The Supreme Censors

Months after his death, as Mrs Gadgil knocked on every possible door withinthe Indian Air Force and the Ministry of Defence, she was met with cold staresand a whisper campaign that almost called her a traitor. But Mrs Gadgil refusedto give up and sought answers to her pertinent questions: How did her son die?What was wrong with the MiG-21? Why were so many of them falling out of theskies?

The Ministry of Defence shaped several answers to her questions, choosingtheir vast PR network and considerable clout. One saw the then defence ministerGeorge Fernandes take to the skies in a carefully selected and prepared MiG-21that took off from an Air force station in the northern sector as TV cameracrews, ferried over in an Air Force AN-32 from Delhi, captured the images.

That image, played over several TV news channels, was intended to bring homethe message that everything was fine with the much-maligned MiG-21. Which iswhy, it was perhaps the unkindest cut of them all, when the three service chiefsalong with their principal staff officers and their wives, accompanied by seniorbureaucrats of the Ministry of Defence, sat through a three-hour long Hindi film - Rang De Basanti, that was released yesterday - to sit and judge on whether it would "demoralise the armed forces."

Unfortunate, because the three men heading the fourth largest standing armyin the world, as well as one of the finest air and naval forces, displayed alack of courage in the face of a "fictional" film. Well, ofcourse they wanted it placed on record prominently that this was "a work offiction". What else did these "super censors" recommend? Besidesthe "fictional' rendition of a "fictional defence minister"getting into the cockpit of a MiG-21 in the film, the three chiefs also wantedthe film makers to drop the "roll of honour" listing the names of allthe pilots who have perished in MiG-21 crashes in the last 15 years. All thisbecause they did not want to "de-moralise their young MiG pilots".Understandably, the film's producers anxious for an early release accepted mostof the "suggestions".

But then, why are the MiGs still crashing? On that singular issue, theMinistry of Defence as well as the Indian Air Force, perhaps on instructionsfrom its political masters, have continued to maintain a veil of secrecy. Thereport on aircraft crashes prepared by the then scientific advisor to the RakshaMantri, one A.P.J Abdul Kalam, continues to be secret and there have been noupdates on what has been accepted - or not.

At one point, Air Chief Marshal S.Krishnswamy did raise a pertinent issuewith the Hindustan Aeronautics Limited (HAL) which has been tasked withoverhauling the MiGs. In three confidential letters to the HAL chairman, the airchief expressed his displeasure at the complete lack of quality controls at HAL.The shocking facts that a public sector undertaking under the Ministry ofDefence had slipped up leading to two consecutive crashes of upgraded MiG-21aircraft was, to say the least, criminal. The courts of inquiry into these twoaccidents had clearly established that there was a contamination in theaircraft's fuel pump assembly because there were no quality control checks atHAL. Wasn't that de-moralising for the young pilots?

But HAL and the defence ministry refused to learn its lesson. A year later,the IAF's entire jaguar fleet was grounded because the technicians at HAL hadfailed to insert a split pin in one engine leading to its crash. Subsequentchecks revealed two other aircraft with similar problems. Wasn't that de-moralisingfor the IAF's young pilots?

Another reason identified by several flight safety committees also attributedthe high rate of crashes to the lack of an advanced jet trainer. And yet AirHeadquarters waited patiently for 23 years before the government finally cleareda deal for 60 jet trainers from the United Kingdom. By then, more than 100pilots, most of them young rookie trainees, had already lost their liveslearning their basic skills on an aircraft as harsh and demanding as the MiG-21.

In fact, several years before George Fernandes climbed into a MiG-21 cockpitto "build the confidence of the nation and its young pilots", AirChief Marshal S.Y. Tipnis had already tried out the same trick with a degree ofsuccess. He flew the MiG-21 from Bareilly as an army of defence correspondentsand their camera crew captured the image for posterity. What they all missed outon was the story that was narrated to a few by all air force personnel whoserved on that base. The air base, which houses the IAF's Electronic WarfareSquadron did not have a single MiG-21 which was in a condition to fly on thatchosen day. Instead, a specially earmarked MiG-21 was flown in from Gwalior airforce station, which houses the IAF's prestigious TACDE so that the airchief could get his 15 seconds of prime time publicity.

Which is why, when the three service chiefs easily found time from whatshould have been a busy schedule to see a three-hour long Hindi film and make"suggestions" before it could be released, it immediately raisedseveral questions. What is more de-moralising? The fact that there is aninstitutional mind-set to brush all problems under the establishment's widecarpet and refuse to acknowledge what everyone knows to be the real problem? Ora "fictional" film, inspired by every day news headlines, with awell-established star in the lead?

In the end, as the film hits the stands, hopefully Mrs Gadgil might find afew answers. Perhaps, they might even tell her why her son's death was dismissedas that of an "average pilot" and the crash ascribed to "PilotError". Little wonder then that an establishment out to prove that all isright with the world, was concerned enough to troop into Mahadev auditorium and"certify" the film with appropriate "suggestions".