The Border Security Force Is Really India¡¯s First Line Of Defence - The Tragedy Is Not Many Know Them

There¡¯s a man out there by the fence looking out, always looking out, never looking in. His eyes set on a small 150 mt patch between the India fence and the International Border. He leaves his camp between 6 and 7 for his night duty, most of it spent on foot armed with a flashlight, his rifle and whatever food he¡¯s managed to smuggle out from the canteen. He¡¯s acute, aware and alert but he doesn¡¯t belong to the army.

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In Border, Sunil Shetty plays a small and important role in the recreation of the Battle of Longewala, but it's Sunny Deol who walks away with all the glory and the honour.

Border might be an unfair comparison considering the magnitude of bravery displayed by Major Chandpuri and his men, but the bravery of the men who guard our borders has been constantly ignored.

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By every stretch of imagination, being in any of the forces requires an unimaginable amount of courage, perseverance and selflessness. But there is one very serious thing that is lacking among the jawans on the border ¨C lack of awe. Constantly confused with the army and dubbed a police force by the Central Govt, the jawans at the border are fighting a losing battle for recognition.

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In Jammu and Kashmir, a BSF border outpost alternates with Army posts on the Line Of Control. In Punjab the jawans of the BSF dominate every inch of a 500 km border. In Rajasthan, border outposts in the middle of the desert like the one we visited at Babliyanwala guard the 1100 km border in 58 degrees temperature and in Gujarat the BSF guards kilometres of the India-Pak border - a lot of which are just pillars in the middle of Sir Creek. The story continues for the Tripura-Bangladesh and the North Eastern Borders.

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But how much do we really know about the Border Security Forces? As we sit in Babliyanwala, the nearest army presence 120 kms further inland, it starts to become clear - it really is India¡¯s first line of defence. The tragedy is not many people know ¨C an officer tells us the story of MPs who visited Attari for the Beating Retreat ceremony and had no clue the soldiers on the border didn¡¯t belong to the army.

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Another officer tells us a story about how TV channels and other media regularly report BSF¡¯s anti-terror ops as Army encounters. To be honest I think the comparison with the Army is a little bit unfair but there are very obvious gaps in our understanding of how things work on the border. We know about the soldier in Siachen but where's our coverage of the one in the middle of the Thar? That¡¯s what the soldier on the border is asking for. He¡¯s asking for recognition, he¡¯s just asking to not be generalised.

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Reality is that after the 7th Pay Commission there is now a significant disparity in the salaries of the jawans who serve on the border ¨C even if they work alongside each other. BSF, by virtue of it being classified as a ¡®police¡¯ force since 2004, is not entitled to a pension. But the most unjust is the fact that BSF soldiers can no longer be called ¡®martyrs¡¯ even if they are killed in the line of duty, alongside their army colleagues.

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Perhaps the biggest omission from public discourse is the fact that the BSF has had women working with it since 2009 (the first batch started in 2008) in combat and other duties, but it's something that is rarely known. Women in Air Force are celebrated, but women on the border are not celebrated quite as much.

There is a very strong case for the BSF too, by virtue of it being a border force that is always on active duty (an aggressive high alert since the Modi government came into power) and always posted in places where the enemy is just one of the threats. By definition of them being posted to inaccessible border areas, their families can¡¯t live with them, as schools and other facilities are minimal.

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On the Tripura border malaria is a huge enemy, in Rajasthan the 58-degree temperature stares them in the eye, in J&K it¡¯s the militants and the intense cold. In each place, our soldiers on the border stare right back. It¡¯s a long, hard stare, the sort that expects nothing from you but knows what he must do.

At BOP 1175, the last pillar of India¡¯s western frontier in Bhuj, a jawan emerges from a makeshift kitchen with the best cup of tea I¡¯ve had all week. There are only two sips of tea in the glass, our crew has finished the rest. It¡¯s lovely. Across the compound that houses three Italian-made massive ATVs for patrolling in the marshy land are the living quarters of the jawans, a makeshift shed and a temporary roof. The wind is so strong we have trouble opening the doors of our Ertiga. A new BOP is under construction right behind, explains a jawan sheepishly.

At some levels that¡¯s been the beauty of the soldiers we¡¯ve met on the Western Frontier, there is an obscene amount of hardships but also an insane amount of hope. It¡¯s up to us to decide whether we want to disappoint him or not. Even if we do, he¡¯ll say nothing, turn around, light his flashlight and slowly walk back to patrol his section of the border.