The recent enthusiastic response to military recruitment in Bihar and Rajasthan has often been attributed to the post-Kargil nationalistic upsurge that gripped the nation. The argument centred around the ``patriotic'' drive and ``nationalist'' sentiment of an aspiring recruit logically culminates in the ``martyrdom'' syndrome if the recruit looses his life in any military operation. This cycle of causation inadvertently projects other non-military professions as relatively lacking in their commitment to the country.The exaggerated sense of ``nationalism'' attributed to the soldier in the long run only invites jealously and anger from the less-privileged, non-military professional. Indeed in regions like the Punjab, Jammu and Kashmir and the Northeast where the civilian population has been in close interaction with the Army, resentment is more than evident. It is important to remind ourselves that the soldier is no exceptional patriot. He is only performing a job for which he is trained and wellremunerated. His service to the nation is as valuable as that of a humble worker in any of the country's industrial belts or for that matter any other white-collared professional.One's sense of the exceptional nationalism of the Army gets diluted when we locate the current enthusiasm for recruitment in the context of the age-long tradition of soldiering in India. In terms of what it means to be a soldier and the regions tapped for the most able recruits there is a remarkable continuity between the post-Independence Army and its colonial predecessor. Lord Robert Clive, the military General, whose momentous victory at Plassey inaugurated British rule in India, envisaged British expansion in India on the basis of setting up an elaborate army manned by Indian soldiers and officered by Britishers. The first such regiment - Lal Paltan - comprised of high-caste peasant recruits from the Bihar-Awadh region. The composition of the Army was a direct consequence of the British army's definite preference foragricultural labourers, highlanders and men from the countryside. The British officers in India were similarly of the view that the agricultural classes of the country made the best soldiers.Significantly, the region targeted as their recruitment zone had a history of military service stretching back to the pre-colonial period: the Afghan ruler Sher Shah, the Mughals and later regional potentates had all recruited from Bihar and carefully crafted a military labour market. But British service was particularly attractive because of the high salary, awards, welfare and pension schemes that it offered. Besides, in keeping with the cautious approach of early orientalist administrators, like Warren Hastings, it also claimed to protect the religious observances of its high-caste recruits. On both these accounts the Army not only attracted recruits in large numbers but also developed a high-caste profile. Its upper-caste image made it an effective forum for sorting out tensions in rural society of Bihar. Forinstance, the Bhumihar Brahmins who had always been denied high status by rural high castes because they had taken to agriculture took advantage of this military protection to improve their social status in society.The agile military labour market of the Bihar-Awadh region dried up when after the 1857 mutiny the high-caste soldiers of the region fell out of favour with the British. As new recruiting zones were identified in the Punjab, Nepal and the North-West Provinces the economy of the Bihar region plummeted because it had so far relied on the pay and pension inputs of its peasant soldiers. However, the labour market was once again revived in post-Independence India. Keeping in mind the new secular fabric of the country the overt exhortations to religious sensibilities of the recruits were dropped from the Army's advertisement campaigns. The recruitment drew an enthusiastic response from sometimes the same families that had served the British.Let us appreciate the professionalism of the Indiansoldier and the legacy he has inherited. There are obvious limits to which one can stretch "patriotism" and "nationalist upsurge" as defining motives behind one's choice of profession. Yes, even the military profession.The writer teaches military history at Jamia Millia
