Book & Author
General Gul Hassan Khan: Memoirs of Lt. Gen. Gul Hassan Khan
By Dr Ahmed S. Khan
Chicago, IL
Lieutenant-General Gul Hassan Khan (1921-1999) was the last Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army. He was an officer and a gentleman and belonged to a rare and vanishing breed of Generals who did not indulge in acquisition of material wealth and real estate. He was regarded as a General with a good sense of humor. He spent his last years in a room at the artillery mess in Rawalpindi. When he passed away on October 10, 1999, he left behind a small amount of money in his bank account. Before his demise he had instructed his orderly to buy his Kafan (burial cloth) with that money.
In his frank autobiography — Memoirs of Lt. Gen. Gul Hassan Khan — he dispels many misconceptions about his role in various events. The book has four sections: I. Carefree Days (growing up in Quetta), II. The Fateful Posting (accounts of 1961-1965 period), The End of an Era (narratives of 1966-1971 period), and IV. The Inevitable (accounts of 1971-1977 era). The book is dedicated to “All ranks of the Pakistan Army Past and Present.”
The author describes his experience of serving as ADC to Viscount Slim, towards the end of WWII. He says that the time he spent as ADC to the Quaid-i-Azam provided him with an opportunity to observe and learn from the great leadership of the founder of Pakistan. Working with two great leaders prepared young Gul Hassan to aim for high standards of leadership — which he exhibited later in his career when he commanded his men. General Gul Hassan also objectively analyses the events of the Indo-Pakistan wars of 1965 and 1971. The author concludes the book by describing events after the fall of East Pakistan, and the drama of his sacking (resignation) by Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto; he considered Bhutto’s order — to use military force against civilians — as unlawful. Bhutto forced General Gul Hassan and Air Marshal Rahim Khan to resign during a meeting in Rawalpindi, and after the meeting Bhutto’s partymen Mumtaz Bhutto, Khar and Jatoi drove Gul Hassan and Rahim Khan to Governor’s House in Lahore — later that evening Bhutto announced about their resignation (sacking) in his address to the nation. Khar drove them back to Rawalpindi the next day.
Gul Hassan Khan was born in Quetta in 1921. In 1932 he joined the Prince of Wales Indian Military College, and in 1941 the Indian Military Academy. He was Commissioned in February 1942. In November 1944, he was appointed ADC to General (later Field Marshal Viscount) Slim. At Partition, he was appointed ADC to Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah. He held several key appointments in the Pakistan Army: he served as the Director Military Operations during the 1965 war, and as Chief of General Staff during the 1971 war. In December 1971, he assumed command of the Army, and was its last Commander-in-Chief. After his forced “resignation/sacking” he served as Pakistan's ambassador in Vienna and later in Athens. General Gul Hasan was awarded Sitara-e-Pakistan and Sitara-e-Quaid-i-Azam for his dedicated services and gallant efforts.
In the preface the author, reflecting on the impetus for the book, observes: “The motivation for writing this account is that fate placed me in close proximity to personalities who were destined to make history. Thus, I was enabled to witness momentous events from a ring-side seat. Towards the end of the Second World War, I was posted as Aide-de-Camp to General (later Field Marshal Viscount) Slim, the redoubtable Commander of the Fourteenth Army in Burma. He has been acknowledged as one of the ablest generals produced by the British in that war; I have recounted episodes as his ADC, and no more: I was not posted as the deputy army commander, to wait in the wings, should it have become necessary to replace him. In addition, I am in no position, even with the aid of hindsight, to reconstruct his battles, which he has described admirably in his book, Defeat into Victory—conceded to be the best general's book of the Second World War. My narrative is therefore restricted to the more mundane issues, and I mention these because I thoroughly enjoyed my stay on his staff. Another reason is to highlight the humane aspects of his personality, notwithstanding the immense pressures he was exposed to. That is why he was affectionately known to the whole of his army as 'Uncle Bill'.”
Describing his association with Quad-i-Azam, the author states: “At the partition of India in August 1947, I was appointed ADC to Quaid-i-Azam Mohammad Ali Jinnah, the founder and the first Governor-General of Pakistan. I did not have to persuade myself that he was in no need of any guidance from me to help him launch the new State, but someone had to fill the post of his Army ADC and the privilege fell- to me. I had matured since my days with Bill Slim, but even then the political environment I had to work in was beyond my grasp, and also interest. However, what was well within my comprehension was to study Jinnah as a man, and for this I had ample opportunity. He had no peers in our society. At the same time, he was no prophet and never professed to be one, though I don't doubt that if anyone else had been in his shoes, the history of Islam would assuredly have been in danger of being recast. Mohammad Ali Jinnah was above petty sentiments. He was robust enough to withstand influences exerted by sycophants and other similar creatures. His passing away so soon after Independence was the biggest tragedy for Pakistan, which, in next to no time, became a playground for enduring gangsters, inveterate opportunists, and chronic freebooters. And of these species there appeared to be no dearth in our country.”
Commenting on the evolution of the Military's higher command, and the 1965 and 1971 wars with India, the author notes: “I have endeavored to describe the evolution of higher command since 1951, when a Pakistani officer was appointed the first Commander-in-Chief of the Army. At that time I was a major, commanding a squadron, and with the passage of time I held ascending commands. Here I was again fortunate because it is being in command of troops that provides one with the best sounding-board to assess the efficiency of higher leadership in any army. In narrating this I have no doubt I shall be treading on several delicate toes, but there is just no other way to divulge the truth; and truth is everlastingly bitter. Nevertheless, I owe it to all ranks of the Pakistan Army, past and present, and to the public, to acquaint them with reality. It is about time too. They have been duped for long enough. Though I took no part in actual combat in the 1965 and 1971 Wars with India, I nevertheless held sensitive posts before and during the hostilities; I was the Director of Military Operations from January 1961 to April 1966, and the Chief of the General Staff from December 1968 to December 1971. This equips me to try and set the record straight. A large number of books and articles have been written on those conflicts, some being personal experiences of authors who fought in crucial battles, while other narratives were compiled at the behest of the Government. In the former, the scenario is perforce restricted, whereas in the latter instances, the authors have sought to cloud the truth with sensationalism or have steered away from it for fear of injuring the reputations of those directly affected. However, it is imperative that controversies are set forth candidly, irrespective of personal considerations, which can in no circumstances be permitted to take precedence over recording history faithfully for posterity.”
Expounding further on wars and martial law, the author observes: “I have narrated the events connected with our two wars with India as I saw them. I do not absolve myself of the blunders committed. I have mentioned these, and I share the responsibility. In an army, effective leadership at the top makes all the difference between success and failure: so it is with the Pakistan Army. Our environment went askew because Martial Law became a part and parcel of our very existence, thereby burdening the army with the dual tasks of administering the country and defending it in any emergency. I shall frankly state that we failed miserably in both these undertakings. Our commitment to Martial Law was total in 1971, when in spite of the fact that the Army was all-in-all, there was no communication whatsoever between the Government and the General Headquarters. The void was absolute, and it had to be experienced to be believed. As far as I can foresee, the specter of Martial Law will be ever-present in Pakistan, unless she produces political leaders who can look beyond provincial horizons, be above-board, possess honesty of purpose, command the solid support of the masses, and be genuinely concerned with their welfare, and, last but by no means least, be patriots. (The meaning of the last word is a person who loves, supports, and defends his country and its interests.) This would be a tall order for our political community to fulfil, and it will be equally wishful to console ourselves that one fine day the leadership of the Army may decide to devote themselves wholly to their profession. I am not for one moment bracketing the junior officers with the top ranks. In both the wars with India their performance was magnificent, especially those who were in East Pakistan in 1971. In spite of being utterly isolated from the West Wing, harassed by a not-too-friendly population and surrounded by an implacable neighbor, they stood up to the un-remitting strain for over six months with a courage and resolve that is not easy to find in the pages of military history. They were let down by their Government and General Headquarters and their own senior-most commanders.”
The author observes that “Bhutto was a showman of high caliber. He always gained political mileage by playing to the gallery, thus enhancing his own image. He achieved this by constantly appearing on public platforms, and not by sitting in an office directing the administration.” Describing his relationship and interactions with Zulfiqar Ali Bhutto, the author states: “I have briefly sketched my relationship with Zulfikar Ali Bhutto. This is essential because there is no end to the speculation that I, along with Air Marshal Rahim Khan, was responsible for contriving to oust Yahya Khan and install Bhutto in his stead. I have also given an account of my dealings with Bhutto when I was the Commander-in-Chief of the Pakistan Army, and later as Ambassador: in both these capacities I have omitted to narrate details but have referred only to a few incidents which are relevant to putting my contacts with Bhutto in their correct perspective. For nearly six years, Bhutto was the undisputed leader of Pakistan, during which period he also, unwittingly, played the leading role in cooking his own goose. I have deliberately refrained from summing up my narrative because I honestly find it a perplexing undertaking. I am not clear in my own mind in which direction Pakistan is heading. The sooner those at the helm of affairs realize this lack of direction, the less misfortune we are likely to encounter in the future. I must stress that most of what appears in my Memoirs is based upon my personal knowledge and, at times, when incidents have eluded me, to promote continuity I have taken recourse to narrating observations of those whom I consider reliable. I have firmly resisted the temptation of calling on quarters which in my opinion are dubious: at the same time I have steered clear of sensationalism, for which I have substituted reality—reality that has long been shrouded in mystery. I appreciate that a large number of my compatriots will be disappointed because I, having been so close to the star performers, have not cast any light on the extracurricular indulgences of those who mattered. There is a reason behind this deliberate omission—I did not personally participate in these activities; moreover, these goings-on gained a notoriety which I treat with disdain. There is yet another category of episodes I have refrained from bringing into focus because these infringe on national security. Rawalpindi 1993.”
Introspecting about the performance of armed forces during the 1965 war, the author notes: “My criticism of our high command may appear to be severe and perhaps unjustified, but I have contrived it to be so. All of us in Pakistan had recognized and vehemently admitted that the threat to us from India was ominous and real, yet we had accomplished little to gear ourselves to face it seriously. It would appear that we did not possess the will and the stamina to earnestly prepare our army for the challenge which confronted us. Likewise, we have deluded ourselves that we emerged victorious in our 1965 conflict with India—far from it. All that we attained was to ensure that our adversary did not make any telling gains, and this is a feeble pretext to console ourselves. So, instead of basing our opinions on false premises, why did we not get down to fielding a highly trained army which should have been in a position to take the field at short notice and in an exemplary professional manner? …In this narrative I may be accused of washing our dirty linen in public, but have not we for far too long a time not washed our linen even in private? And if we were all so dedicated then we would not be in the predicament that engulfs us. My motive in exposing our maladies is that we learn for the future, and not for our neighbor to gloat over. The latter is in no position to derive any satisfaction from this self-inflicted embarrassment because India, with more than double our strength in the field, miserably failed to humiliate us. Could it be that their inherent maladies were more deadly than ours?”
Describing the background of the 1969 Martial Law, the author observes: “…present unrest could not be endured for much longer and the President should be prepared to hand over to the Speaker of the National Assembly. Yahya Khan told me that the President had no confidence in the Speaker. I answered that if it were so, Ayub Khan had no alternative but to hand over to him (Yahya Khan), and that he should declare Martial Law and pave the way for handing the reins of the government to the politicians as quickly as possible. Legally, Ayub Khan could not declare Martial Law, as he was for all intents and purposes a civilian, his rank of Field Marshal notwithstanding. The Chief agreed and left for the meeting. A few days later, another meeting was arranged at the residence of the Defense Minister Admiral (Retired) A R Khan, at which some ministers, the Chief, Lieutenant-General Hamid, the Judge Advocate-General of the Army, one or two others from GHQ, and I were present. The ministers were pressing for the imposition of partial Martial Law, but the Chief and his advisers did not agree. Then the ministers went to great lengths to argue that the President was empowered to impose Martial Law but the Judge Advocate-General ruled this out. We were back to square one, but everyone was clear what should be done and by whom, when the time came. There has been no end of irresponsible talk about how General Yahya Khan took over from Ayub Khan. On 25 March 1969, Ayub Khan handed over to Yahya Khan, who abrogated the Constitution and declared Martial Law throughout the country. The next day General Yahya Khan announced that as soon as conditions had normalized, he would arrange to hold elections to pave the way for the peoples' representatives to take over the Government.”
Reflecting on the role and leadership of General Ayub Khan and the impact of the lack of democratic institutions, the author states: “I thought of Ayub Khan, who had rendered constructive and demonstrable services to the country despite the corruption. It was a period of prosperity and stability unknown to Pakistan, yet he had been hounded out of office by the very same public who had acclaimed his achievements. The reasons were not far to seek. In a situation of one-man rule, there are no institutions which can absorb shocks. The good, and especially the bad, rebound on the man at the helm of affairs. Those who serve him never miss a chance to acknowledge the accolades, but they are smart enough to duck when the going gets rough. Ayub Khan was a national leader. He thought in terms of Pakistan as an entity, unlike our politicians whose vision never extended beyond provincial boundaries. Their politics, therefore, revolved around regional sentiments, and these can be ignited without much effort because our people are a simple folk, who, taking the cue from the leaders, cannot comprehend what the whole of Pakistan is about. We are also a nation that has a record second to none of throwing up diligent sycophants who thrive in any environment that is prevalent.”
Reflecting on the 1970 elections, the author observes: “The long and lingering period before the elections was beneficially utilized by the younger political leaders—Mujibur Rahman and Z A Bhutto. The former had been provided with a particularly welcome breathing space to spread more venom against the West, and his Six Points were preached with such enthusiastic diligence that it would put Goebbels' propaganda antics during the Second World War in the shade. Bhutto was more circumspect. He strengthened his hold on his party and advocated a more rational autonomy for the provinces with a viable center. The seasoned politicians decided to take it easy, hoping that their vast experience would harvest the votes for them. The elections took place on 7 December 1970, with Mujibur Rahman bagging all but two of the 162 seats in East Pakistan, whereas Bhutto's People's Party secured 88 seats out of the 138 in the West Wing. Neither of these dynamic leaders, or the other not so dynamic ones, won a single seat in the Wing they did not belong to. The polarization was absolute. The Sheikh and Bhutto had much in common. They were comparatively young; they were fiery rhetoricians; they oozed ambition; they were vindictive; and neither ever told the truth if a lie would serve the purpose—in fact, they were creative liars. Nevertheless, they now occupied Centre-stage, and whether the President liked it or not, he had them on his hands. The destiny of Pakistan was precariously balanced.”
Describing how Bhutto manipulated General Yahya to change his mind about holding the national assembly session and its adverse impact on East Pakistanis, the author states: “In the second week of January, the President visited Dhaka, where he informed the Sheikh that the National Assembly would be convened in early February. On his departure, he referred to the Sheikh as the future Prime Minister of Pakistan, which must have pricked Bhutto's ego. On his return to the West Wing, he accepted an invitation from Bhutto to visit Larkana, the latter's hometown. Having imbibed sufficient high grade political octane, Yahya Khan left for Rawalpindi, where he announced that the National Assembly would meet on 3 March in Dhaka. This announcement created a furor in both the Wings. In East Pakistan, the delayed convening of the Assembly was seen as another ploy on the part of West Pakistanis not to hand over power to the majority party, and the President's visit to Larkana had added to their suspicions. The situation in that Wing was further exacerbated because Mujibur Rahman, at a public ceremony held in Dhaka on 3 January, had administered an oath to all the elected members that they would not deviate from the Six-Point formula. In West Pakistan, Bhutto's aspirations also received a grievous setback: he appreciated that he would have no say in the making of the Constitution or the Government. He accordingly vented his anger by declaring that if the Assembly met, there would be flames from the Khyber Pass to Karachi. And later, when some of the minority party members made known their intention to attend the Dhaka session, Bhutto warned that he would break their legs and that they would be well advised to buy one-way air tickets. These utterances were meant to add spice to what he had said earlier that 'no party should even think of framing a Constitution without the People's Party'. The President must have discerned that he was check-mated.”
Expounding on Indira Gandhi’s friendship treaty with the Soviet Union, the author notes: “When the perspective fell into focus, Indira Gandhi concluded a Treaty of Peace, Friendship, and Co-operation with the Soviet Union on 9 August 1971. In order to cater for current and future contingencies, this treaty was valid for a period of twenty years. It will be of interest to mention that this document had been hanging fire, owing to opposition to it in India, since 1969. But when Indira Gandhi determined that our predicament in East Pakistan had reached a point of no return, she ratified it with undue haste, notwithstanding India's avowed non-aligned status and taking most of Delhi by surprise. The agreement suited both the signatories. India perceived her chance of undoing the partition of the subcontinent, at least in some measure, and for this she had acquired the backing of a superpower. The Soviet Union had to square accounts with Pakistan for the role we played in facilitating the rapprochement between the USA and China. Moscow also seized this opportunity to demonstrate that China was an impotent ally, because the latter could not possibly come to the assistance of Pakistan without inviting retaliation from the Soviet Union. Indira Gandhi visited Moscow in late September to reassure herself that all would be well when she set in motion her grand design to bring Pakistan to book. While in Moscow, she also obtained additional military hardware to augment her existing awesome arsenal.”
Reflecting on the invitation to appear before Hamood-ur-Rehman Commission, the author notes: “In April 1972, I was asked to appear before the Hamood-ur-Rahman Commission, which was instituted by Bhutto to inquire into the causes of the surrender of the Army in East Pakistan, and the reasons for calling for a cease-fire in West Pakistan. A day before my date with the Commission, on my return from Islamabad, I was informed that the Attorney-General had called several times and that he expected me to call him back urgently. Being in no need whatsoever of legal guidance in any form, I decided to ignore the matter. Some hours later, there was yet another call from the AG and on the persuasion of my host I reluctantly took the phone. The AG told me that as I was appearing before the Commission the next day, Bhutto had asked him (the AG) to meet me, prior to my confrontation with the Commission. This request was so bizarre that it had to be dismissed at once. I told the AG that on no account would I consent to be tutored…”
Explaining the reasons why he did not oust Bhutto in 1972, the author observes: “In 1977 a compatriot asked me, in all earnestness, why I had not, in the supreme interest of Pakistan, ousted Bhutto in March 1972, when I was fully aware of what he was up to. I had replied that, firstly given time, I knew he would accomplish this feat without any help from me; secondly, I was just not interested; and, thirdly, I did not divulge to him that at the back of my mind was the lurking fear of screwing things up. At the end of a long and, at times, sticky innings, I can without much compunction state that while my attainments may be spectacular, my achievements, in correlation, fall far short.”
Commenting on the imposition of Martial Laws, the author states: “In February 1969, Ayub Khan had convened the RTC with the sole purpose of transferring power to the politicians but again they miserably failed to read the writing on the wall. In March 1977, Bhutto held elections which he had arranged to rig. In their wake ensued an unprecedented upheaval in the country. There was no necessity for rigging the elections, but the infallible Bhutto panicked. It must have dawned upon him that his five years in office were over, and he had little to show for his labors. The poor and downtrodden masses had not received too many, if any at all, of those bounties he had promised them in the 1970 election campaign…We, therefore, have to thank Bhutto, that self-appointed captain of democracy, for pushing Pakistan into yet another spell of Martial Law—longer, more repressive, and infinitely more agonizing than those we had endured with forbearance and fortitude earlier. Let us not make a habit of creating an environment that invites Martial Law and also not, as a matter of form, readily impose it. Our people deserve a break. The nation has been assiduously fed a diet of concentrated lies, has been blinded by a shroud of deceit, and soothed by an enriched salve of bribery and corruption, so much so that it can no longer distinguish between right and wrong. In the end I wish to emphatically reiterate what I have stated in the Preface, that I do not absolve myself of our failure…”
The author concludes the memoir by observing: “I was very much a part and parcel of the General Staff at GHQ. It is, therefore, logical and realistic to terminate the story on this note, otherwise the reader is likely to perceive that I had assumed the role of an official umpire to record events from the sidelines. I do not deny that I have been critically harsh on occasions, but then that criticism is apportioned to all, including my person. Under the circumstances it will not be easy to envisage why I did not quit the scene in 1971; but the fact is that though I did not go to that extent, I did request General Yahya Khan to send me back to 1 Armored Division. Thereafter we were so inundated by overwhelmingly traumatic issues that I considered it infra dig to abandon a sinking ship, having been one of its crew members.”
Memoirs of Lt. Gen. Gul Hassan Khan is an important book. The author — the last Commander-in-Chief of Pakistan Army — has candidly summarized highlights of his 30-year military career and the background details about two wars and three Martial Laws. It is a historic document — an essential reading for students of history and for all civilian and military policy makers in Pakistan so that they can learn from mistakes made during the past seven decades and benefit greatly from General Gul Hassan’s advice and insights on politics and military affairs.
[Dr Ahmed S. Khan (dr.a.s.khan@ieee.org) is a Fulbright Specialist Scholar (2017-2022)]
