Action stations on a war footing

I could be woken at any hour of the night. I had instructed my communicators to give me half a minute before putting my communication through. Warm water was always beside my bed. Those seconds allowed me to gather my thoughts and clear my throat. In a crisis, a commander’s voice must convey composure and authority. Preparedness is ultimately a collection of habits created when there is no crisis.

The 26/11 Mumbai attacks remain an enduring reminder that information, even when available in fragments and over time, does not automatically induce preventive action. Possessing information is different from converting it into preparedness. Between detection and response lie interpretation, dissemination, decision, orders, mobilisation and execution. Every transition is a potential point of failure.

I saw the importance of this first-hand during the Silkyara tunnel collapse in November 2023. Prime Minister Narendra Modi grasped the gravity of the situation early and directed that every resource required be made available without delay. We worked passionately to deliver success. In my media interactions, I have often said that I treated the rescue operation as a war.

Technical information must first be converted into comprehensible language. The person on the ground needs no scientific dissertation. He needs answers to five questions: What is likely to happen? Where? When? Who is at risk? What must be done now?

That conversion — from technical information to operational instruction — is a neglected function in emergency management. It must be accurate but rapid. Information in a fast-moving emergency is perishable. Warning time is an operational resource; every avoidable delay consumes it. A technically perfect warning that spends too long moving through institutional channels can arrive as an explanation of what has already happened.

Then comes dissemination. Technology offers cell broadcasts, SMS, messaging platforms, television, radio, social media, sirens, public address systems, satellite communications and government as well as police networks. But issuing a message is not the same as communicating it.

The State must employ every available means, with redundancy, to reach the maximum number of people. Not everyone will receive a warning. Phones may be switched off, networks fail, people are asleep. Language and literacy matter. Remote communities may lack connectivity, while some citizens will ignore advice. The test is whether every effort was made to reach as many people as possible — and whether the message was understandable and actionable.

This is why I remain concerned about emergency response operations at the district level. India has around 750 district disaster management authorities, yet permanent professional operations rooms are still far from universal in practice. In a disaster, this is an operational deficiency. A classic example of success was provided by the Gujarat government in June 2023, when 32 million messages were communicated in anticipation of Cyclone Biparjoy; not one life was lost.

Where does the first warning arrive? Who monitors the channel at 2 am? Who acknowledges it and informs the District Magistrate? Who converts it into executable orders? Who alerts the police, fire services, hospitals, SDRF (State Disaster Response Force) units, engineers and local administrations? Who orders evacuation, identifies shelters, arranges transport and confirms that action has begun? Who maintains the operational picture? Who tells citizens that help is on its way?

An operations room is not necessarily a room with screens and telephones. It is the nervous system of response. It requires trained people, updated contact directories, standard operating procedures, communications redundancy, resource visibility, decision matrices, logs and the habit of functioning together. A command centre activated only when disaster strikes is of limited value. Relationships and reflexes have to be built beforehand.

The sequence should become instinctive: receive, understand, simplify, decide, disseminate, mobilise, confirm, update and reassure. Communication cannot cease after the warning. People caught in a disaster need to know what is happening, what they should do and whether assistance is coming. In an information vacuum, rumour travels faster than relief.

The same principle applies to national security. Cyberattacks, terror incidents, military contingencies and failures of critical infrastructure may look different, but all test the distance between knowledge and action. India has invested in its capacity to know: satellites, sensors, radars, surveillance systems, intelligence networks, meteorological capabilities and digital communications. The next challenge is ensuring that the institutional machinery beneath these technologies is optimally responsive.

The first minutes of a crisis are not the time to construct command relationships, search for telephone numbers, interpret unfamiliar technical terminology or debate authority. They are the time to execute what institutions have already thought through and rehearsed.

“Koi ladai nahin lagi hai” should therefore never become an argument against preparedness. It should be the reason for it. When no fire is burning and no war is on, there is time to check the alarm, test communications, rehearse the response and ensure that everyone knows what to do.

Once the fire starts, the critical minutes have already begun.