IDHAR UDHAR KI BAAT 149 —THE EYEBROW THEORY IN WARFARE - Brig PS Gothra (Retd.)

The Presiding Judge said, “Brigadier, you may continue.”

“My Lord, Helen, Julia Roberts and Madhubala were known for thinner eyebrows. Pamela Anderson, Deepika Padukone and Alia Bhatt have, at different times, carried bolder eyebrows. All were considered exceptionally beautiful women. The problem is that millions of women copied whatever eyebrow style happened to be fashionable. A particular eyebrow may look wonderful on one face and ridiculous on another.”

Justice Ladyfinger instinctively touched her own eyebrows.

“Today,” I continued, “AI can even help you. The principle is simple: first understand your face. Then choose your eyebrows.”

The Presiding Judge looked irritated.

“Brigadier, stick to warfare.”

“That, My Lord, is warfare. Force structuring is exactly like eyebrows. You created three Integrated Theatre Commands in 2032.”

“Yes. After years of deliberation,” said the Defence Minister.

“Precisely. By the time you implemented the answer, the question had changed. With the advent of AI and other emerging technologies, geographically rigid theatre commands are no longer the optimum mechanism to achieve jointness. Considering the size of your country, the strength of your armed forces and the nature of your threats, perhaps even a single integrated command structure might have served your requirements. But you created three—partly because other countries had theatre commands, partly because the arrangement served certain vested interests. Or perhaps, you created three because one commander was considered too dangerous.”

“So you are suggesting we should have retained the old system?”

“No. That would have been equally foolish. Warfare had already moved beyond merely coordinating the Army, Navy and Air Force. Today there is economic warfare. Cyber warfare. Information warfare. Psychological operations. Diplomatic pressure. Lawfare. Subversion. Technology. Finance. Trade. Sanctions. Supply chains. Narratives.”

I paused.

“The greatest misunderstanding of your generation was believing that warfare belongs to soldiers. It does not. Warfare belongs to nations.”

Even Justice Ladyfinger was listening.

“You established Integrated Theatre Commands,” I continued. “What you really needed was something different—a War Headquarters.”

Justice Coconut leaned forward.

“What would this War Headquarters do?”

“It would bring together the instruments of national power to achieve a particular objective. Military commanders would sit alongside people dealing with diplomacy, intelligence, cyber, technology, economics, information, law and other relevant national capabilities.”

The Defence Minister objected.

“You want bureaucrats to fight wars?”

“No, Minister. I want the nation to fight its wars. Modern wars may begin long before the first bullet is fired. Your currency can be attacked, markets manipulated, population influenced, diplomatic space constricted, technology denied and supply chains disrupted. If you wait for somebody to fire the first bullet before admitting that the war has begun, you may already have lost half of it.”

The Presiding Judge frowned.

“Surely the military still matters?”

“My Lord. The question is whether it is producing the desired effect.”

“Explain.”

“Take my country. Tanks had traditionally been considered important for countering enemy mechanised forces through approaches such as the Spanggur Gap towards Chushul and beyond. For decades, that made operational sense. But with the advent of  long-range anti-tank weapons, drones, surveillance and precision weapons made concentrating expensive armour in terrain with little cover increasingly hazardous. That is precisely the mistake militaries make—declaring things either indispensable or useless. A weapon is useful only in relation to the effect it can produce, the threat it faces and the price you pay for employing it.”

The Presiding Judge nodded. “What happened in your 2034 war?”

Our tanks were decimated. It was disheartening. Eventually our Bhairav Battalions found another way. They got hold of the enemy's tetua and squeezed.”

The Presiding Judge looked puzzled.

“What is tetua?”

“Adam's apple, My Lord.”

I should have stopped there. But condemned men, as I had discovered, develop an unfortunate tendency to keep talking.

“My Lord. We often admire the instrument instead of asking what effect we actually want. Sometimes the best solution is not the biggest weapon. Sometimes it isn't even a military weapon.”

“For example?”

“I am merely reminding Your Lordships of that fascinating gentleman who occasionally appears in newspaper reports, accomplishes something rather consequential and then disappears.”

Justice Coconut leaned forward.

“Who?”

I smiled.

“The unknown gunman.”

There was too much of murmur in the court.

The Defence Minister interjected, “Your honour he has been painting all our Military Leaders as fools, we should not delay his execution.”

“That is a big accusation. Brigadier do you have anything to say in your defence?”

“Yes, your honour.  ….”

The Presiding Judge hurriedly lifted his gavel.

“We will listen to it after the tea break of one hour.  Court adjourned.”