On June 15, 2020, the Indian Army was taken by surprise as its troops clashed with the Chinese Army on the Galwan heights in Ladakh. At least 20 Indian soldiers and an unknown number of Chinese soldiers were killed in the first fatal clash between the two countries in more than three decades. Was this an instance of intelligence failure? Accusations of intelligence failure as explanations for military surprises tend to come from retired military officials and political opponents in the aftermath of incidents and crises. The reaction of governments, when faced with such surprises, is usually to remain silent and let the intelligence agencies take the blame. Deviating from this norm, following the Galwan incident, the current Indian government denied that there was any intelligence failure. Therefore, it is pertinent to ask from an independent standpoint, was there really an intelligence failure? Contrary to some scholars, I argue that the surprise at Galwan was not an intelligence failure, but a response failure.
The Galwan surprise is comparable to the Kargil surprise. In 1999, Pakistani troops, initially disguised as militants, occupied vast swathes of land in the Kargil region of Jammu and Kashmir. Their aim was to cut off Indian access to a vital road in the region. What made the invasion possible was a routine winter withdrawal by the Indian Army to avoid weather-related casualties. Absent any resistance, the Pakistani troops occupied the Kargil heights, leading to a brief war between India and Pakistan, in which the Indian troops prevailed. Likewise, in 2020, citing Covid-19 precautions, the Indian Army postponed its annual drill with the Indo-Tibetan border police, thereby removing a potential check to the Chinese expansionary moves in Ladakh, with the Galwan clash taking place soon after. In both instances, the intelligence agencies were blamed for not providing “specific intelligence” on the enemy’s “intentions,” and were thus regarded as having failed. Such conclusions demonstrate neither an understanding of intelligence failures nor the limitations of India’s strategic intelligence agencies.
Misunderstanding and misreadings
Scholars Abram N. Shulsky and Gary J. Schmitt define intelligence failure as “a misunderstanding of the situation that leads a government (or its military forces) to take actions that are inappropriate and counterproductive to its own interests. Whether it is subjectively surprised by what happens is less important than the fact that the government or the military is doing or continues to do the wrong thing.” According to this definition, an intelligence failure occurs if the government fails to understand its strategic environment and, thereby, adopts policies that are retrospectively found to be detrimental to its interests. An example of this is the Indian government in the 1980s misreading the intentions of the Tamil Tigers, and failing to distinguish a friend from a foe. As a result, its policies toward Sri Lanka were later found to be contradicting its interests, leading to the assassination of former Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi. When such intelligence failures are absent – i.e. if the intelligence reading of the strategic environment is accurate – surprises are an outcome of political and military officials not responding to available intelligence adequately and appropriately.
This “response failure” school posits that the cause of surprise is not a lack of warning. Instead, “response,” i.e. “action designed to counter an attack” must develop from the warning through “accurate evaluation and sound judgement.” As evidenced in my book, India’s Intelligence Culture and Strategic Surprises, India has a political and strategic culture that prefers restraint and positive international reputation to the diplomatic costs of pre-emptive action. This makes India’s strategic intelligence assessments less consequential as military policies demand accurate and specific intelligence on enemy intentions. Especially when instances of surprises tend to be preceded by positive diplomatic developments, the demand for specific intelligence becomes stronger. Prior to the Kargil War, India and Pakistan were engaged in a rapprochement that was facilitated by the Indian prime minister making an unprecedented bus journey to Pakistan. Similarly, despite tensions between India and China on the borders, the political climate prior to the Galwan clashes between the two had remained fairly optimistic around the “Wuhan Spirit” referencing a series of informal summits between leaders of both countries over 2018 and 2019. At times, when the political relationship appears to be positive, the government expects Indian intelligence agencies to furnish unequivocal evidence of enemy intentions – an unachievable expectation for several reasons.
First, overcoming enemy counter-intelligence and uncovering tactical intentions that are always susceptible to change is highly challenging. Second, in India, the responsibility of military intelligence is divided between the Research and Analysis Wing (R&AW), India’s foreign intelligence agency and the Army. Drawing its personnel from the Indian Police Service and other bureaucracies on deputation, the R&AW retains a capacity for strategic analysis of the target from a political and economic perspective, rather than a military view. Ever since it was carved out of its predecessor organisation, the Intelligence Bureau – which is now only responsible for domestic intelligence – the Indian foreign intelligence bureaucracy has tried to develop long-term expertise on Pakistan and China. However, since the 1990s, flawed manpower management and budgetary constraints have rid the agency of the expertise it would have desired. Nevertheless, considering the focus of the agency being the broader strategic context in which policies are made, the agency cannot be held accountable for the failure of military intelligence analysis, which is largely the forte of the army. The Indian Army, as the end-user of intelligence, shares the bulk of responsibility for military analysis, i.e. interpreting the military implications of the collected data, besides collecting tactical intelligence. Therefore, while blaming the R&AW for intelligence failure, observers need to bear in mind this division of responsibilities.
Mirror imaging
To elaborate, in Kargil, the Indian Army operated on an assumption that the nuclearisation of the subcontinent had negated any possibility of open conflict between India and Pakistan. Therefore, according to the Army’s analysis, Pakistan would continue with “infiltration” of militants into Kashmir but would not attempt a military “intrusion.” When the R&AW assessed in October 1998 that “a limited swift offensive” by Pakistan was possible, the Indian Army showed resistance since the conclusion contradicted its analysis. Bereft of specific data about Pakistan’s aggressive intentions (a closely guarded secret known to only four members including General Pervez Musharraf), the R&AW was incapable of convincing the army to re-evaluate its assumptions. Therefore, when the Indian Army was taken by surprise on the Kargil heights, there was no intelligence failure. Rather, it was the army’s failure to pay heed to the R&AW’s assessment that caused its misunderstanding of the strategic environment.
More importantly, the army had ignored nearly 23 reports from its own intelligence apparatus and sufficient warnings from mid-ranking officers. Therefore, the cause of surprise was not intelligence failure but the lack of appropriate response from the army. In order to fill gaps in the intelligence picture, instead of undertaking proactive action, the army seems to have succumbed to “mirror imaging.” This is a situation where an analyst assumes that the enemy would abide by their own dictates of rationality. In Kargil, it seemed irrational to the Indian Army that Pakistan would be willing to lose lives attempting to capture the hilltops during the freezing winters. Therefore, it assumed that the Pakistani leadership would seek to infiltrate militants along the riverbeds but not intrude through the high ridges. Had the army paid attention to strategic intelligence from the R&AW and appreciated warnings from within its ranks, it had numerous options, such as air surveillance, to counter Pakistan’s moves. Having failed to do so, intelligence became a scapegoat for a response failure.
Although available evidence is sketchy, the Galwan surprise seems to have followed a similar pattern. At least three months before the incident, intelligence warned the army about the People’s Liberation Army movements in Ladakh. Yet, there was a failure to assess its implications on border defence and establish credible deterrence. As pointed above, there are once again complaints about lack of specificity about Chinese intentions leading to accusations of intelligence failure.
This is also a response failure indicating an inability of the Indian Army to mount adequate responses to available warnings. Such distinctions between intelligence and response are not merely academic, but are necessary to understand that intelligence reforms will not act as a silver bullet against military or strategic surprises. What is required is greater consumer literacy, i.e. decision makers’ awareness of the limits of strategic intelligence and better understanding of the enemy’s operational culture. This can ensure that the challenges of mirror imaging are overcome and possible enemy actions in varying scenarios are gamed to develop appropriate responses.
Dheeraj Paramesha Chaya is a lecturer in Intelligence and International Security at the School of Criminology, Sociology and Policing at the University of Hull.
This article first appeared in India in Transition, a publication of the Center for the Advanced Study of India, University of Pennsylvania.
