The appointment that didn’t happen

The meeting took place well past midnight, when South Block had emptied and the winter air pressed against its stone walls in silence. No aides. No notetakers. Just the Prime Minister and the Defence Minister seated across a polished table, a single file between them.

The file was thin.
That was the problem.

On paper, General Maarunga was flawless.

Operationally brilliant.
Decorated.
Respected within the ranks.
A natural contender for the post of Chief of Defence Staff….

The Defence Minister spoke first, carefully.

“Sir, the services will accept him without resistance. Publicly, there will be no controversy.”

The Prime Minister did not respond immediately. He turned a page in the file… not because he needed to, but because silence has its own weight in such rooms.

“Publicly,” he repeated…

The Unwritten Record

The problem was not what the file said.

It was what it didn’t…

No inquiry had ever questioned Gen. Maarunga’s conduct.
No charge had ever been framed.
No rule had ever been broken.

Yet both men in the room knew something else existed—
an unwritten record…

Years earlier, during a fragile coalition era, Gen. Maarunga had been a trusted confidant of the then Chairperson of the ruling alliance. Not professionally inappropriate. Not illegal. But intimate enough to matter…

Appointments…
Strategic briefings…
Backchannel consultations…

All within protocol…
All within discretion…

But loyalty, once established, does not evaporate with regime change.

The Defence Minister leaned back.

“The CDS is not just a military role,” he said. “It is a strategic one. It sits at the intersection of politics, war, procurement, and long-term doctrine.”

The Prime Minister nodded…

“The CDS must be immune to memory,” he replied. “No past equations. No old reflexes.”

This was the crux…

Gen. Maarunga had served under a different political philosophy. A different style of governance. A different understanding of civil–military boundaries. He had not opposed it. He had adapted to it.

And adaptability, in this case, was not an advantage…

 “Capability is not in question,” the Defence Minister said quietly. “But perception will follow.”

“Not outside,” the Prime Minister replied. “Inside.”

He paused.

“A CDS carries institutional memory forward. If that memory bends toward a past political centre, even unconsciously, it creates friction we cannot afford.”

This was not about revenge.
Not about settling old scores.

It was about clean lines…

The current government had redefined civil–military engagement. Faster decision-making. Sharper accountability. Less ambiguity. The CDS had to embody that break completely.

The Defence Minister closed the file.

“If we pass him over,” he said, “there will be whispers.”

“There are always whispers,” the Prime Minister replied. “What matters is whether the institution remains unquestioned.”

They both knew what this meant…

Gen. Maarunga would never be publicly criticized.
He would retire with honours intact.
History would remember him kindly.

But he would not be the CDS.

Not because he was disloyal to the nation…
but because he had once been too close to power when power was diffuse.

The Prime Minister stood.

“We are building institutions that must outlive us,” he said. “That requires decisions that feel unfair to individuals but fair to the system.”

The Defence Minister nodded…

“I’ll prepare the alternative shortlist.”

No announcement would mention politics.
No briefing would hint at the past.
The official reason would be “strategic alignment.”

And that would be true….

Weeks later, speculation filled television studios. Analysts debated merit, seniority, timing.

No one mentioned the coalition years.
No one spoke of old loyalties.

And Gen. Maarunga, in this fiction, watched quietly from the sidelines—respected, accomplished, but excluded from the final elevation.

Not because he failed…

But because some roles demand not just excellence,…
but absolute detachment from yesterday’s power…

And in the calculus of the state,
that distinction matters more than medals…

Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. All characters, events, dialogues, and situations are imaginary. Any resemblance to real persons, living or dead, or actual events is purely coincidental. This content is intended for storytelling and thought exploration only.