The armed forces were once known for their prowess in sports and games. Combined Services teams or teams from individual Services stole the honours at national sports events.

That was then but what is it now? Services teams struggle to find a place in the sporting leagues at city level, the medal tally has plummeted at national events and the officer class refrains from participating in contact games due to fear that injury would result in career setback.

Many reasons are attributed to this dismal state of affairs but one factor not talked about is the adoption of a game called golf by the officer class. Golf has been elevated to a cult status in the armed forces and entry into this cult fraternity is restricted to the officer cadre. So, exclusion of the majority has had its own negative dynamics.

Golf is a game in which individuals pursue objectives for their individual gain and profits increase if the others playing the game trip or get stuck. This concept, arguably, may be relevant in some fields of human endeavour but is a complete anathema to the psyche of the armed forces.

Football, hockey and cricket are excellent examples where the spirit of the game is congruent with the essence of the armed forces. Golf stands in stark contrast with its objectives militating against everything that the forces want to instill in their personnel. And the unfortunate part is that golf has succeeded in driving every other game into the background.

Golf made its silent entry into the armed forces in the early 1970s, spread its tentacles in the 1980s, lured the younger lot also in the 1990s. And in the first decade of the new millennium, it has become a symbol of “having reached it” for the officer class. All this has happened at the cost of other games. These games are played by personnel below officer rank (PBOR).

Cricket grounds have been converted to golf greens, trees have uprooted to create fairways and vast tracts of defence lands have been reserved as golf courses. The oddity in this state of affairs becomes evident when one considers that commissioned officers, for whom all this has been done, constitute less than four per cent of the overall strength of the fighting forces.

It is not unusual these days for itineraries of senior officers visiting lower formations being structured around the senior officers’ golf preferences. Does the senior officer wish to “tee off” early morning or later in the day? No problems, the rest of the visit or inspection can be fitted into the remaining part of the day!
The outcome is that the dignitary does not get an opportunity to interact informally with the men. And it was not long ago that visiting officers would insist on witnessing or sometimes even participating in contact games where officers rubbed shoulders with the PBOR and later sipped tea with them in an environment of mutual respect for a game, well-played.

The golf culture has also spawned a parallel HR system in which young officers seek postings and placements of choice or redressal of personal problems. Bypassing the laid down channels of communication or redress weakens the entire system and dilutes military authority.

It will be an uphill task to reverse the trend but a beginning has to be made. Traditional games must be encouraged and young officers discouraged from playing golf. Subsidisation of the golf culture should stop and the senior leadership, on whom rests the well-being of the fighting forces, should take the lead in bridging the golf divide.

(The writer is a retired Air Marshal)