General in the cantonment, writing murder mysteries

It’s not every day that an army chief writes a novel. In fact, it’s only happened once during the 77 years since Independence. This is what makes General Manoj Naravane’s book almost unique and special. That’s also why I’m writing about it today.

Called The Cantonment Conspiracy, it is, as its subtitle says, a military thriller. Though not a Le Carre, it is pacey and very readable. I finished it in a single sitting. The pages seemed to turn themselves.

The story centres around two young newly commissioned officers, Lieutenant Rohit Verma, a third-generation officer, and Lieutenant Renuka Khatri, the first woman to join an infantry regiment. Rohit is accused of molestation and assumed by most people to be guilty. Renuka, the more powerful personality of the two and the driving force behind the story, jumps to his defence. As the plot unravels, two murders take place, and the person who commits them is not the one you first suspect. But I won’t tell you more. That would reveal the tale.

The story is set in the future. It all happens sometime after June 2026. It unfolds at the regimental centre of the Sikh Rifles in Fatehpuri. Rohit and Renuka are there for what is called orientation training. Now, General Naravane’s own regiment was the 7th Sikh Light Infantry. So, clearly, he’s drawing upon his own experience and personal knowledge.

Thrillers, of course, are not easy to write. First, there is the plot. It needs to be intriguing and, more importantly, as you read you need to be pulled deeper and deeper into it. Then, there’s the pacing of the story. It must gallop towards a climax if not also a furious end. Finally, there’s the language. It needs to be terse and taut. Short snappy sentences rather than long philosophical disquisitions. Through all of this, you also need a clear sense of what sort of people the principal characters are. Their personality needs to be etched clearly and sharply. And you need a deft sense of right and wrong. Thrillers tend to be moral books.

This book has all of that. Yet to be honest, it is not what you expect from army generals. The book’s different shades of colour and its subtlety of description is, I would say, pleasantly surprising. I haven’t met an army chief who has these literary qualities and, believe me, I’ve met several.

Though his is only a peripheral role, I was particularly struck by the Regimental Centre’s commandant’s English. When he speaks, Brigadier Ashok Menon reminds me of an English Colonel Blimp. “What the deuce?” and “darn” pop out of his mouth. His speech is peppered with words like ruddy, blighter and bugger.

Clearly, General Naravane has done this deliberately. He’s conveyed a particular image with his character’s language. At times, it reminds me of Arthur Conan Doyle or even PG Wodehouse. But is that what army brigadiers are truly like? Or is that what the author believes readers would expect? Either way, it works.

However, for all its meticulous attention to detail and description — and this thriller captures the spirit and character of army life rather accurately — there’s one strange lapse I find mystifying. There’s a moment when Brigadier Menon is talking to Rohit and the author writes: “Pointing to the wall, he said ‘Do you see that quote of Guru Nanak? The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing’.” As far as I know, this quotation is usually attributed to the British Conservative politician Edmund Burke, although scholars of late have even begun to question that. Did Guru Nanak really say it? If he did, when and where?

That quibble apart, I can’t wait for the general’s next thriller. He tells me if this one is well-received, there could be a series of Lt Renuka Khatri murder mysteries. Who knows, she could become our own young Miss Marple. In that event, the general would be the new Agatha Christie!