NORTH-WEST FRONTIER

New Zealand Herald, Volume LXX, Issue 21561, 4 August 1933, Page 9

NORTH-WEST FRONTIER

BOMBING A VILLAGE CONTROVERSY REVIVED ACTION BITTERLY CONDEMNED By Telegraph—Press Association—Copyright LONDON, Aug. 2 Despatches from Calcutta state that members of-the Royal Air Force'again bomherl the village of Kotkai, on the North-West frontier of India. There was no sign from the air of hostile forces nor was there any offer to surrender the three seditionists, who are being sheltered. Tho bombing of Kotkai has revived the controversy over Britain's reservation at tho Disarmament Conference of the right to bomb tribesmen. Tho Leader of tho Opposition, Mr. George Lansbury, in a letter to the Times declares it will be an everlasting shame to nil the Christian Churches unless they repudiate this outrage against God and humanity. . Tho News Chronicle says if it is morally right to bomb Kotkai it cannot be morally wrong to bomb London. It is not worth risking the bombardment of London in order to retain the privilege of bombing Kotkai. The* Daily Herald denounces whßt it terms "a revolting and brutal exercise of aerial power which does not discriminate between the guilty and tho guiltless."

WATCH AND WARD __ # A TYPICAL " LITTLE WAR " THE WAY OF THE PATHAN BT CAPTAIN" A. C. CIjATTO.V, Late Intelligejico Liaison Officer •with the R.A.F., North-weflt Frontier, India. July and hot weather (very hot) in this historic spot. The fomale population and a few lucky males left for the Murree Hills two months ago, the club is deserted, and now everybody is hecoming a little bored with lifo in the heat and themselves in particular. The hill tribes, who have done their harvesting, are of the same way of thinking, and have begun to look round for the annual diversion, in the way of troublo of some sort, either among themselves or producing some sort of complication for the political authorities. And so we have it agaiu this year. At last the rumours of trouble have become a fact. The tribes are out and lashkars (gatherings of tribesmen) have been formed in the Mohmand Country (north-west of Peshawar). Bajaur is sheltering agitators, probably "red shirts," from Charsadda, always a hot bed of sedition. They refuse to give them up. Trouble in this quarter is serious. Tho annual Chitral relief may find opposition on its long march in September, if the tribesmen are not taught a lesson at once. Tho political authorities and the Royal Air Force are very active. The intelligence bureau is working day and night. Royal Air Force pilots, agents and runners are cross-questioned and eventually the seat of the trouble is located. Notices are dropped on the tribal villages, giving warning of aerial bombing if tho lashkars do not disperse and the agitators are not given up. Unhonoured and Unsung

A flying column of troops (British and Indian) is assembled at Peshawar and sets off on its long and weary duty. The tribesmen do not comply with the requests of the political authorities and tho villages are bombed, although they have probably been previously evacuated. The column arrives in the hill country. Little or nothing is seen of the tribesmen or the lashkar. Tho expedition remains for a fortnight or more, putting up with tribal sniping, and other unpleasantness. Suddenly the agitators aro delivered to the political authorities perhaps in tho Malakand, and the column is ordered to return, being thoroughly shot at in the process. So we come to the end of another hot weather amusement and find on return to Peshawar the London newspapers with a few insignificant lines to the effect that the recent disorder on the frontier has now calmed v down and normal conditions prevail once more.

It all sounds easy enough. But what of the men who do all this; what of the careful preparation to be made; what of the men who march in the sweltering heat, climb the hills and picket the route, being daily shot at bv the tribesmen: what of the Royal Air Korea, who risk their lives in this terrible country? Never a word. They arc England's best, and tho Indians who go are India's best. They are not there to shout about it. It is their job, and they do it gladly. So our firm hand is maintained and our garrison increased in efficiency. Peculiar Peshawar Soon the tribesman will be able to till his land again and will be much too busy making his women work to bother about anything in tho way of political trouble until next year. But in Peshawar the fun begins again. It is a peculiar station, for not only is there the frontier problem always to be contended with, but also tho question of internal unrest in India.

The agitator will start again and the Indian police will have their work cut out to keep peace and quiet. The moment any serious trouble takes place in Peshawar the ever-attractive word "loot," goes forth to the hills, and crops or no crops, fodder or no fodder for the winter, the tribesmen cannot resist it and down they come on Peshawar again, only to be repulsed by tho garrison. It is a wonderful part of tho world this, with its tribal wars, blood feuds, murder and sudden death; but through it all most people manage to enjoy themselves. The Peshawar Vale Hunt still goes on in the cold weather and in tho Khaibar the tribesmen come to our sports and rifle meetings. Delightful old men they are, and with a great sense of humour. They arrive in a bunch, shepherded by tho political Thesildar. Keen-eyed and grey-bearded, each carrying a local wild flower in the left hand and salaaming with tho right. To see them together one would never 'dream that they aro probably mostly sworn enemies.

A Truce, Buns and Lemonade

At our sports on the aerodrome at Landi Kotal, I saw such a gathering. The old maliks were very reverend old gentlemen. I noticed that they wero in two groups, Khaibar Afridi and Shinwari. I asked in the Shinwari group the reason and received tho answer, given with a shrug of tho shoulders and a gesture of disdain, ''Huh! Khaibar wallah" (tho Shinwaris live about Landi Kotal). But they intermingled and talked together afterwards, nevertheless. They seemed particularly fond of green lemonade and buns. And so we go on. Tho British soldier always makes friends with everybody and the tribesman bears us no ill-will, but he resents any attempt to interfere with his hereditary rights, and we allow him to go on with his blood feuds and tribal customs so long as he does not interfere with us. Isn't life a problem?