Senior Army Officers Research Articles

Pale Dawn of Democracy: Post Ziaul Haq political developments and 1988 Elections in Pakistan

The death of Pakistans Chief of Army Staff and President, General Ziaul Haq, with several senior army officers in a plane crash in August 1988 ushered Pakistan in utter chaos and uncertainty. Though his successors in power positions ruled in favor of democracy, the elections were heavily influenced to in favor of pro-establishment parties and against PPP and its leader Benazir Bhutto. The policies adopted and actions taken by the holders of Constitutional offices and prime state institutions subjected the country to political fragmentation. The present study takes stock of the political developments taking place from the death of General Ziaul Haq till the formation of the new political governments in the Center and provinces in December 1988.

Competency of the Infantry Troops of the Nepalese Army in Disaster Response

Although the Nepalese Army’s regular infantry troops are the tools of disaster response their competency at times becomes questionable. Their disaster response’s soft skill knowledge, technical skill knowledge and preparedness activities along with the perception of senior army officers have been analyzed. As per the result the disaster response competency of such troops needs improvements. The organization should focus on competency building activities. Besides, the perception of senior army officers is positive and convincing towards disaster response engagement.

Arguments About the Dictatorship

term modern dictatorship can be found in classic works of political thought, including The Politics of Aristotle, the Republic of Plato, Leviathan of Hobbes, and The Social Contract of Rousseau, much of analysis of modern political science generally (implicitly) based on concept of legitimate authority of Max Weber.Classification of authoritarian political institutions: authoritarian political non-development; authoritarian political development. To switch from non-democratic regimes, dictatorship to democracy, thong usually politicians often use three methods to switch, that is: innovation, reform and social revolution. All three methods are three different category to only three modes of creating change in different levels.In summary, dictatorship is political regime formed in social terms too speed up modern capitalism. That in that political power was centralized in nature. It appeared in historical conditions when that bourgeois nationalism is still weak and forces of democracy are not yet strong enough to have ability to organize and operate a democratic Government. To solve task of socio-economic urgency put country escape crisis and prevent risk of incurring a social revolution, gender-related political chop-a-z bu, thong is often about senior army officers began tough actions as military coup, declared emergency page status or martial law to organize construction of a centralized power structure.

Making Sense of "Long Wars" — Advice to the US Army

Most military institutions that experience success or failure in war will seek to understand their recent history so they can make sense of it, and learn intelligently from it. The process is never easy or straightforward; indeed, it is often fraught. Those inside the institution have positions and reputations to defend; those outside it--often anxious to level critiques--may not have enough knowledge to offer sophisticated and informed analyses, or may be so determined to build a good story around goats and heroes they miscast the events and offer far more heat than light. Analyses of the wars in Afghanistan and Iraq have come in every possible form: journalists' accounts were first on the scene, but they were followed quickly by those of think-tank analysts, academics, defense intellectuals, official historians, and memoir writers. Each of these has its own weaknesses and strengths. Many have echoed the frustration felt by the American people--frustration driven by a belief that while the US seemed to invest extraordinary amounts of time, blood, and treasure in these campaigns, we have little to show for them. The US Army had the biggest investment--and thus the biggest stake--in the long wars. It is unsurprising, then, that the Army should be the service most buffeted by the experience and the institutional effort to make sense of it. After all, the senior leaders of the US Army must continue to hold the trust and confidence of the American people, and justify the resources invested in the organization. They must learn from and adapt to past experience even as they look forward to a future that arrives with unforgiving speed. They must fight ongoing budget battles, maintain force readiness, keep up with new technologies, plan for new weapons systems, and educate personnel even as they try to process and absorb the recent past. Adding to the difficulty of this task is the fact that, of all the services, the Army may have the greatest challenge when it comes to predicting the future and getting ready for it. In many ways, the Army is the utility infielder of the US military: because it can never be sure exactly what the nation will ask of it, it must be prepared to perform a wide range of tasks well. It must be able to transform itself from Retriever to Rottweiler, and back again, quickly and seamlessly. As an institution, the Army is not averse to introspection and self-analysis. But like all institutions, it is susceptible to the pathologies that stem from cognitive bias and sensitivity to criticism. At one moment senior leaders may ignore that which is painful; the next moment they may over-react to it. Similarly, they may miss moments of success that deserve capture and amplification. At present, the Army seems to be in a phase not dissimilar to the one it entered after Vietnam: it does not study the hard problems and failures deeply enough, and it overlooks and forgets the things that deserve positive acknowledgment and reinforcement. As the Army works through its own analyses of the long wars, and responds to external critiques, it must discern which problems were internal, which were external, and which emerged due to frictions and pathologies along the ever-challenging civil-military fault line. While the Army must understand and take responsibility for the ways it contributed to unsatisfactory outcomes, its leaders must recognize these failings were located inside a broader national security framework that must be addressed comprehensively. Simply put, the Army operates within a civil-military system in which both parties are responsible for failure and success. One can hardly argue, for instance, the flawed assumptions embedded in the Bush 43 decision for regime change in Iraq in 2003 stemmed principally from a failure of strategic thinking inside the Army. One can and should argue senior Army officers might have found more effective ways to ask probing questions about the direction of events, and about the theory of victory operative in the minds of those who were driving the decision for war. …

Сибирский Вавилон: шведские узники в начале XVIII в.

The article is devoted to the history of Swedes in Siberia from their capture in 1709 until their release after the signing of a peace treaty in 1721. The analysis is based on memoirs, diaries and literary works as well as documents from the Tyumen State Archive. The article examines the way in which the prisoners preserved their identity in exile. The Lutherans’ hostility towards the Russian Orthodox Church followers and those of their compatriots, who decided to join it, increased the prisoners’ religious isolation. The paper also considers their inclusion into cultural life and their interest in other groups of people by whose side they spent over a decade. There was an urgent issue connected with starting and leading a family life. Given the shortage of Lutheran brides in Siberia, the prisoners had to develop appropriate marriage strategies. As a result, many widows became involved in a new relationship immediately after the death of their husbands. Most interfaith marriages broke up and the Russian Orthodox wives were abandoned together with their children in Russia after the peace treaty of 1721 and the return of the prisoners to their homeland. The community of the Swedes was formed by more than 75 colonies dispersed throughout the country. They were mostly located in three regions, i. e. Central, Volga and Western Siberia. The colonies were associated with the Field Commissariat established in Moscow and ten administrative offices for prisoners of war. Senior army officers and aristocrats were settled in the capital and its suburban monasteries; most of the rank and file and junior officers worked in factories and shipyards. The most educated groups of officers resided in the Asian part of Russia, organizing the most active and successful colony in Tobolsk. Religion became the backbone and axis around which their community life concentrated, allowing the prisoners to accept their destiny and preserve their identity. The prisoners themselves initiated the establishment of institutions necessary for a full-fledged religious life in exile. They established congregations and groups to discuss religious issues, arranged places to conduct public services, as well as schools for both their children and people who wanted to nurture their spirituality. Stories of the Old Testament turned out to be the most appropriate for the prisoners’ sentiments. Captivity and exile to Siberia were perceived by many as punishment for their sins, similar to the Old Testament Babylonian captivity and deliverance, eventually leading to purification and spiritual growth. This helps explain why during captivity, many officers not only received religious education, but also took active part in the Christianization of the peoples of Siberia and described their indigenous religions. Such a goal gave their stay in Siberia a deep sense of universal meaning, helping them overcome the hardships of captivity and exile, while hoping to eventually return to their homeland.

In the shadow of power: civil–military relations and the Tunisian popular uprising

This study examines the relative unknown strategic decisions inside the ‘black box’ of Ben Ali's authoritarian regime under stress, and questions the broader narrative claiming that the fall of his regime was mainly the result of the mass uprising. Making use of new primary and secondary material, the author argues that the demise of the autocratic ruler was caused by the failure of the regime's controlling strategies due to the defunct communication among key security figures that represented its coercive apparatus: military, ministries of Defense and Interior, and different domestic security organisations. Indeed, the dysfunctional intra-regime dynamics were responsible for the outcome of the popular uprising, not the number of the demonstrators across the country. In this regard, Ben Ali's departure was the unintended outcome due to his misreading of the civil–military relations, as well as his own ambiguous perception of the military as a protector and potential threat that led to a lack of loyalty on the side of senior army officers. His departure was not the result of a deliberate decision or a coup d’état, per se, but rather the consequence of miscommunication between representatives from different bodies in the security establishment. In addition, the article shed lights on the role the military played in securing the country's political transition during the immediate aftermath of the dictatorship's fall.

Uganda's civil courts and the administration of military justice : an appraisal of their jurisprudence on selected issues

The last two decades stand out as the most important period in Uganda's history as far as civil courts' engagement with issues of military justice is concerned. In this period, Uganda's civil courts have handled many cases concerning the administration of military justice more than in any other epoch. Key among these cases include: Attorney General v Major General David Tinyefuza, Brigadier Henry Tumukunde v The Attorney General & Electoral Commission, Joseph Tumushabe v Attorney General, Attorney General v. Joseph Tumushabe, Uganda Law Society and Jackson Karugaba v Attorney General, Uganda Law Society v The Attorney General, Attorney General v Uganda Law Society, Dr Kizza Besigye & Others v Attorney General, Uganda Law Society v Attorney General, and Major General James Kazini v Attorney General. A key observation about many of these cases is that they involve senior army officers/former senior army officers challenging their prosecution by the military justice system as essentially persecution by Government for their critical views. This is for instance true of the Tinyefuza case, the Tumukunde case, the Kazini case and the cases involving Rtd Col Dr. Kiiza Besigye.

Where Are They Now?: The Careers of Army Officers Who Served in East Timor, 1998-99

Where Are They Now?The Careers of Army Officers Who Served in East Timor, 1998-99 Douglas Kammen (bio) In 1998-99, the Indonesian Armed Forces (Tentara Nasional Indonesia, TNI) organized and armed pro-integration militias and oversaw and participated in widespread violence before and after the United Nations-sponsored referendum in East Timor. The violence left at least 1,500 people dead and hundreds of thousands more displaced from their homes, many forcibly relocated to Indonesian West Timor. Basic infrastructure was devastated, homes were destroyed, and livestock killed. In the face of international condemnation, the Indonesian military eventually withdrew its troops from the territory, and the Indonesian government agreed to relinquish its claim to East Timor. Human rights activists called for an international tribunal to bring the perpetrators of the violence to justice, but there was little support in the United Nations for such an initiative, which was soon dropped in favor of piecemeal measures. Several Western powers cut off ties with the Indonesian military and pressured the Indonesian government to act on the findings of the National Human Rights Commission's fact-finding team. In 2001, the Indonesian government did so, establishing an Ad Hoc Court for Human Rights Violations in East Timor that tried eleven army officers, four police officers, and three civilians. Of these, three army officers, one police officer, and three East Timorese civilians were convicted, but all were subsequently acquitted on appeal. In Dili, meanwhile, the United Nations established a Serious Crimes Unit to investigate human rights abuses and crimes against humanity, and a Special Panel for Serious Crimes was created to try those [End Page 111] indicted. A number of low-level militiamen were brought to trial, but because the special panel had no jurisdiction over suspects in Indonesia, the major indictment against senior and middle-ranking Indonesian military officers never made it to court. The half-hearted and now stalled initiatives to bring the perpetrators of human rights abuses in East Timor to justice have been the subject of intense scholarly scrutiny, so they will not be summarized here.1 Instead, I would like to ask what has happened to the careers of those Indonesian army officers who served in East Timor in 1998-99. This is particularly important in light of the debate over foreign—including US—engagement with the Indonesian military and ongoing human rights violations. In a 2007 diplomatic cable arguing in favor of resuming US cooperation with Indonesia's special forces, Cameron Hume, the US Ambassador to Indonesia, argued that Kopassus (Komando Pasukan Khusus, Special Forces Command) forces "play an essential role in Indonesia's ability to protect US official, civilian, and commercial interests." Ambassador Cameron approvingly cited the argument posed by the commander of the Indonesian Armed Forces that "younger officers [should] not be penalized for past transgressions."2 Such lobbying eventually paid off. In June 2010, the United States and Indonesia signed a defense cooperation agreement for military-to-military cooperation, and a month later the US resumed ties with Kopassus. Commenting on the US-Indonesian security partnership at the time, security analyst John Haseman noted that "[m]ost of the individuals involved in these incidents [in East Timor and the abduction of activists] have already retired or left the service, and Kopassus has not been credibly accused of a major human rights violation in at least the last five years."3 The data presented here are limited, as they concern only the two most senior army officers in the Bali-based Udayana Military Command and army officers who served in East Timor in 1998-99. Senior officers in the army and armed forces headquarters in 1998-99, most of whom were already approaching mandatory retirement age, and officers in the police and mobile brigade are not included. In all, sixty-two officers are listed. It is essential to note at the outset that the data presented here were collected from publicly available sources. Much of the information is from Indonesian newspapers and magazines that, now electronically accessible and searchable, regularly report on appointments, promotions, and the activities of the army. Further information has been obtained from the myriad military websites that not only report military...

On the Discriminant Validity of Burnout, Depression and Anxiety: A Re-examination of the Burnout Measure

We investigated the discriminant validity of the frequently used Burnout Measure (BM) (Pines et al ., 1981), in relation to depressive symptomatology and anxiety. Following Russell's (1980) work on the multidimensional space of affective states, BM's items were hypothesized to reside in three separate regions of that space, labeled anxiety, depression, and wornout, with wornout representing a combination of physical and emotional exhaustion. Respondents were 704 senior army officers, who completed a questionnaire that included BM items, standard measures of depression and anxiety, and measures of military-related stresses. Their responses to the BM items and to the depression and anxiety scales were subjected to multidimensional scaling analysis. Excepting an unexpected finding related to a fourth construct, loss of vigor, the results were supportive of the hypothesis and led to the construction of three unidimensional measures, respectively gauging anxiety, depression, and wornout. The correlations of the three measures with the stress measures supported their discriminant validity. We suggest that future research using the BM should focus on the set of items that were found to load on the dimension of wornout, to the exclusion of items tapping depression and anxiety.

George Graham, visible technician

In December of 1675, in a desperate race with Christiaan Huygens over a patent for a spring-regulated watch, Robert Hooke, FRS (Fellow of the Royal Society of London) characterized the clock maker Thomas Tompion as a ‘Slug’, a ‘Clownish Churlish Dog’ and a ‘Rascall’, because Tompion was making a watch of Hooke's design too slowly for the latter's taste. It was Hooke's watch, not Tompion's; Hooke was the patron and Tompion the client. Fifty years later Tompion's apprentice, George Graham, made watches and clocks and quadrants for other Fellows of the Royal Society, yet these instruments were known as Graham's clocks and Graham's quadrants. Language such as Hooke had used towards Tompion was inconceivable towards Graham; he was a member of the Royal Society's governing body, the Council, and had published several significant papers in the Society's journal, the Philosophical Transactions , in which his testimony on and experiments in astronomy, magnetism, horology and metrology were unquestioned. Yet in the early decades of the eighteenth century one could still go to his shop in London's Strand and buy a watch or a clock from him. Like Tompion, George Graham, FRS was a shopkeeper. Nor was he alone in the eighteenth century, at that supposed bastion of gentlemen, the Royal Society. Nearly two-thirds of the membership had to work for a living in one way or another, some rather grandly as high government officials, senior army officers, clerics with ample livings and physicians and lawyers with large and successful London practices ; others more modestly as sailors, surgeons, apothecaries, schoolteachers, engineers, attorneys and instrument-makers. The latter group included some of the most scientifically eminent members of the Royal Society in the eighteenth century: the sailor James Cook (geography), the printer Benjamin Franklin (electricity), the teacher and preacher Joseph Priestley (chemistry), the instrument-maker and engineer James Watt (chemistry), the musician William Herschel (astronomy), and the silk weaver and optician John Dollond (optics). None of these men were gentlemen (though many of their sons or grandsons became so) yet they made science and were acknowledged to have done so; their papers were published and their best work awarded medals.

Mexicans at Arms: Puro Federalists and the Politics of War, 1845-1848

The decades that followed independence from Spain in 1821 transformed Mexico from a strong, stable colony to a republic suffering from economic decline and political turmoil. This chaotic state hindered efforts of the young republic to meet the aggressive expansionism of the United States between 1845 and 1848. Santoni sheds new light on Mexican domestic history during the conflict--a much neglected subject--through a comprehensive examination of the only Mexican political bloc that wanted war with the United States. Led by Valentin Gomez Farias, this faction was the radical federalists, who in 1846 took the name of puros. Santoni demonstrates the reasons for the failure of the puros' attempts to reestablish federalism in Mexico, shape public opinion, develop a civic militia and forge alliances with senior army officers and opposing political groups. Santoni maintains that the economic, social, and political troubles of Mexico nullified the puros' endeavors to direct armed resistance against the Americans.

Santa Anna and the Abortive Anti-Federalist Revolt of 1833 in Mexico

Historians are familiar with the short-lived alliance between General Antonio López de Santa Anna and the Mexican Federalists that was formed in July 1832 and lasted until April 1834. After achieving its goal of overthrowing the centralist regime of Anastasio Bustamante, the alliance led to the exercise of power by Santa Anna's Federalist vice president, Valentín Gómez Farías, in April 1833, and it disintegrated a year later when Santa Anna returned to Mexico City from his hacienda to seize personal control of the government. By April 1834 the army officer corps and the ecclesiastical hierarchy had become incensed at the Federalists' anti-military and anti-clerical reform program and were demanding the ouster of Gómez Farías and the dissolution of Congress. Members of the proprietary class of central Mexico and a considerable portion of the masses, who had been incited by the clergy, also joined the clamor against the Federalists. One of the factors that contributed to Santa Anna's extraordinary success as a politician was his shrewd sense of timing. In this case, it is well known that he turned against the Federalists when opposition to them from important sectors of the population became widespread and heated. What is not so well known is that, in the absence of such broad opposition, he chose to suppress an anti-Federalist revolt of senior army officers that broke out in May 1833. He did so even though the rebels offered to make him “supreme chief of the nation” if he adhered to their movement. Just as an understanding of Santa Anna's decision to break openly with the Federalists in April 1834 provides important insights regarding his political methods and goals, an assessment of his decision not to do so eleven months earlier in May 1833 can shed additional light on the tactics and objectives that helped to make him the most formidable political figure in Mexico during the post-independence period. Accordingly, this article will analyze the reasons for Santa Anna's decision not to support the anti-Federalist revolt of 1833.

THE ARMY, THE STATE, AND THE ‘RAWLINGS REVOLUTION’ IN GHANA

SINCE Independence in 1957, the masses of Ghana have been hoping for something dramatic on the political scene; they have been hoping for an earthshaking change in the foundation of the power structure which has been ruling their lives, for an end to the seemingly endless cycle of poverty, deprivation and want. They have been hoping for something which will remove their anxieties, guarantee the future of their children, and fulfil their aspirations. In a way, they have been hoping for something which will give them a sense of selffulfilment. It was hoped that Nkrumah would achieve this, but in spite of commendable efforts, the dream did not materialize. Will it work this time? To what extent has the 4 June 'Rawlings Revolution' ushered in the new era claimed by the coup leaders? Has Ghana at long last hitched on the vehicle which will, hopefully, translate the hopes and aspirations of the broad masses of the people into reality? Or is this just a moment in the dialectic, a temporary phase in the intense struggle between different fractions of the petty bourgeoisie to gain control over the state apparatus and redirect resources more beneficially to their sectional interests? Has the exit of Rawlings and his colleagues in the last week of September 1979 meant an end to the Rawlings phenomenon? What meaning should be attached to Rawlings's intervention within the constellation of class forces within Ghanaian politics? The emergence of Rawlings on the Ghanaian political scene was as dramatic as his exit in late September 1979, rivalling in sense of drama only the extravaganzas of the James Bond films. How else could one characterize the episode of a man who only two weeks before was being held in a condemned cell for leading a section of junior officers in an unsuccessful attempt at insurrection, yet manages to escape to lead this time a successful one against the incumbent junta of senior army officers? Not only that, in a move characterized as a 'cleaning-up' operation, the new junta executes eight senior army, air force and naval officers, including three former Heads of State, for 'crimes against the state', sends hundreds of 'corrupt' officers and civilians to long prison sentences, dismisses a number of top senior civil servants and police officers (shaking the foundations of petty bourgeois power), and yet allows scheduled elections to go ahead as planned ten days after the seizure of power. Three months later, amidst

Elections and Coups in Sierra Leone, 1967

On St Patrick's Day 1967 Sierra Leone went to the polls to elect a new parliament. Four days later, on 21 March, Brigadier David Lansana, head of the Sierra Leone army, seized power. After two more days, on 23 March, Lansana was repudiated by a group of senior army officers; this second coup was followed by the creation of a National Reformation Council, including five army officers and two senior police officials, which was to take control of the government. Almost the last multi-party democracy in independent black Africa had come to an end, cancelling the first peaceful change of government through the ballot-box. Lansana's action was in some respects less defensible than Ian Smith's U.D.I. in Rhodesia. Smith acted against the presumed wishes of a majority of Rhodesians; Lansana acted against the majority wish which had just been expressed. Smith did not, within minutes of taking power, send troops to fire on protesting crowds in the streets of the capital.

NIGERIA: ONE OR MANY?

MR. WILLIAMS began by reminding his audience that the war in Nigeria was already into its second year. When the war began it was described as a police action against an area less than a sixth of the size of the Federation. Not unnaturally few people suspected that the war would last so long. In order to explain the war the speaker turned to the events of January 1966, when all of Nigeria's leading politicians with the exception of the two Ibo premiers along with many senior army officers were murdered by a group of largely Ibo majors. These coup leaders were subsequently jailed and a form of legitimacy was established under the regime of General Aguyi Ironsi, a regime that the speaker held would have survived had it governed with more tact. For although the coup of January, with its undertones of reformism, had been generally welcomed, a belief grew up, particularly in the North, that it had been an Ibo plot. In May 1966 there were brutal disturbances in the North directed against the large migrant Ibo communities living and working there. Even after these troubles had been quelled, it still seemed possible that Ibos might be able to live outside their crowded homeland without danger. At this stage the speaker clarified his terms. By talking of Easteners one included many non-Ibo easterners. It also had to be remembered that there were a great many Ibo living outside the old Eastern Region. There were also those Ibos who were aboriginal to the Mid-Western Region. The May disorders were directed against Ibos in the North. The July troubles, although confined to the army, affected not only Eastern Ibos but also a number of non-Ibo Eastern officers. Whatever the causes of these troubles, the important fact was that a large number of Ibo officers were affected and made their way back to the Eastern Region. In the country at large there was a feeling that July was revenge for January and that with scores settled things could settle down again. But from this point onwards the gradual withdrawal of the East from the Federation began. Ironsi was murdered in July and was replaced by Gowon. It is held by Colonel Ojukwu, who has never recognised Gowon as Head of State, and others, that Gowon was implicated in the July disturbances. This allegation was not one the speaker subscribed to and he felt that although there were officers senior to Gowon in the hierarchy, no one else could have restored order and discipline at that time. But the immediate result of July was that army discipline did break down and in contrast with the May disorders, when soldiers had done much to restore

Economic Aspects of Indonesian Disunity

HE DECISIVE STEPS in the series of revolts between December i956 and March I957 which drastically reduced the authority of the Indonesian Government over most areas of the country outside Java were taken by senior Army officers. Their action was primarily motivated by dissatisfaction with the internal organisation of the Army and its relationship with the central government. At the same time, it is clear that the action of the local Army commanders in Sumatra, Kalimantan and east Indonesia was in conformity with local political aspirations and had the fullest support of local economic interests.' The action of the Army commanders immediately precipitated a major economic, as well as a political, crisis, but in any event the former was inevitable. Since the end of the Korean War the Indonesian economy has deteriorated, although world economic conditions have been generally favourable. Despite a plethora of plans of all kinds Indonesia, at the end of i956, was virtually unique in eastern and southern Asia in having no overall Plan for economic development in active implementation. At a time when almost every country in Southeast Asia has recorded substantial economic progress, Indonesia has stagnated. The few temporary rallies in the economy have not been sustained. By the end of i956 Indonesia's money supply had reached the record high level of almost I4,000 million Rupiahs. Mainly in consequence of a large budget deficit, the Bank Indonesia's ratio of reserves to deposits fell below the legal minimum of 20 per cent in September and again in December, when by a decision of the Monetary Board the Bank's minimum ratio of gold and convertible foreign currencies was lowered to i5 per cent. At present there seems little likelihood of restoring the old ratio; in April I957 the ratio was I7.8 per cent. The deficit in June I957