Abstract
Discipline, responsibility, resilience, moral courage and leadership by example are often associated with military life, but their relevance extends much beyond the Armed Forces. More than three decades after the film Prahaar was released, its central character, Major Chauhan, continues to offer an interesting lens through which these values can be examined. This article does not argue for the militarisation of civilian society or for imposing military command structures upon civilian institutions. Instead, it asks whether some values commonly nurtured by military life can find a greater place in schools, workplaces and public institutions. Drawing upon personal reflections from military service, the article argues that India does not need a Major Chauhan standing over every institution. It needs institutions that nurture resilience, uphold discipline, exercise authority with accountability, and promote leadership through personal example.
Introduction
Every society is shaped not only by its institutions but also by the character of the people who run them. Discipline, moral courage and leadership are developed over time and strengthened by example. More than three decades ago, Major Chauhan, played by Nana Patekar in Prahaar, left a lasting impression on me. As a young viewer, I saw him mainly as a tough and uncompromising commando instructor. After more than two decades in uniform, I see behind that toughness something more important: discipline, integrity and the courage to stand by what one believes is right.
A former senior commander of mine, now a retired Major General, recently read my reflections on Major Chauhan. His response raised a larger question: can these values associated with the soldier find a greater place in our everyday institutions? Major Chauhan can thus be viewed not merely as a memorable fictional soldier, but as a starting point for thinking about institution-building. His character made me reflect upon a simple truth: a nation cannot be strengthened by systems and structure alone. It also needs people who work with competence, integrity and a sense of responsibility. The argument is not for military command in civilian life, but for carrying some of its underlying values into our institutions. Perhaps what is really missing is not someone giving orders, but a culture where people do the right thing even when nobody is watching.
Why We Still Need a Major Chauhan
We live in an age of speed, convenience and instant solutions. Life has undoubtedly become easier, but the ability to face difficulty remains just as necessary. That was one of the lessons I took from Major Chauhan. His training was demanding, but its purpose was not simply to make his trainees suffer. He wanted them to discover that they were capable of more than they believed. When the trainees struggled, he did not immediately make the task easier. He showed them the way and expected them to try again. The lesson was simple: a good leader does not abandon someone who is struggling, but neither does he always lower the standard. Sometimes leadership means helping a person develop the strength and confidence to meet that standard.
This distinction is important. Hardship for its own sake has little value. Humiliation is not leadership, and fear cannot be a permanent substitute for motivation. The purpose of a difficult experience should be growth. A demanding leader must therefore know the difference between challenging people and breaking them. This lesson extends beyond military training. As parents, teachers, managers and mentors, our instinct is naturally to protect people from difficulty. That instinct is important. But removing every challenge may leave a person unprepared for the difficulties that life will eventually bring. Resilience develops gradually by facing difficulties, learning from failure and trying again. Qualifications and professional success are important, but the ability to remain steady under difficult circumstances is also valuable.
This is where the idea of an institutional ‘Major Chauhan’ becomes relevant. We need leaders who maintain high standards, correct people when required, but also give them the confidence to improve. Major Chauhan’s lasting lesson, therefore, is not about toughness for its own sake. It is about helping people discover their own strength while refusing to compromise on values and standards.
The Armed Forces as a Force for Nation-Building
The Armed Forces are naturally seen primarily in the context of defending our borders and protecting the country’s territorial integrity. That remains their foremost responsibility. But their contribution to the nation goes beyond the battlefield. The military also develops men and women trained in discipline, teamwork, responsibility and leadership. India is a country of enormous diversity. Soldiers come from different regions, religions, languages and social backgrounds. Yet, once in uniform, these differences become secondary to a common identity and purpose. A soldier does not stand beside another soldier because he comes from the same region or speaks the same language. He stands beside him because they belong to the same team and serve the same nation.
This is one of the quiet strengths of military life. It teaches people from very different backgrounds to live, train and work together. It creates a sense of belonging that rises above many of the divisions encountered outside the uniform.
Military institutions have also historically played an important role in professional education and the development of leadership. For more than 150 years, the United Service Institution of India has contributed to professional military learning, research and strategic thought in India.
Over time, professional military education in India has evolved to prepare leaders for responsibilities beyond immediate tactical duties. The contribution does not end when a soldier hangs up his uniform. Every year, trained personnel retire from the Armed Forces and return to civilian life. They carry with them years of experience in leadership, teamwork, crisis management, discipline and accountability. Many subsequently work in businesses, educational institutions, administration and their local communities. What they have learnt in uniform can continue to serve society long after their military service has ended.
In this sense, the Armed Forces do not merely defend the nation. They also develop men and women who can continue serving it in different ways.
Moving the Soldier Beyond the Pedestal: A Practical Role Model
Our society rightly respects its soldiers. We applaud them, remember their sacrifices on important occasions and express our gratitude to those serving in difficult areas. Such recognition matters. But perhaps respect for the soldier should go one step further. Instead of only admiring the uniform, we can also ask what we can learn from the values associated with it. The most useful lessons are often very simple: punctuality, consistency, teamwork, responsibility and the willingness to accept accountability when things go wrong. None of these values belongs exclusively to the military.
One of the first lessons military life teaches is that responsibility comes with leadership. When something goes wrong, a leader cannot always look for someone else to blame. He must first ask what he could have done differently. This does not mean that every failure is the leader’s fault. But leadership does require the courage to accept one’s share of responsibility.
That lesson has value far beyond the Armed Forces. Whether we work in an office, hospital, school, business or public institution, it is easy to find explanations when something goes wrong. Sometimes those explanations are entirely genuine. But there are also occasions when accepting responsibility and finding a solution is more useful than simply identifying whom to blame. Military discipline, therefore, should not be seen as something relevant only to soldiers or battlefields. Its everyday values—being on time, keeping one’s word, doing one’s duty, working as a team and taking responsibility—are equally relevant to civilian life.
Perhaps the best way to honour a soldier is not merely to place him on a pedestal, but to carry some of these values into our own lives.
The Missing Command in Our Institutions
This brings us to the central question: what exactly is missing? It would be simplistic to argue that India’s institutions lack good people or capable leaders. Every profession has individuals who work quietly, accept responsibility and uphold high standards. Nor can military methods simply be transferred to civilian organisations. The larger issue is whether our institutions consistently encourage such behaviour.
An institution becomes stronger when good conduct does not depend entirely upon the personality of the person in charge. A hospital, school or office cannot depend permanently upon one exceptional individual. A strong institution is one where good practices do not remain limited to a few individuals but gradually become the normal way of working. That requires clear standards, accountability, mentoring and, most importantly, example from the top. Rules have a role, but rules alone cannot create character. People notice what their leaders actually do. If punctuality is demanded but senior leaders themselves routinely arrive late, the written rule soon loses meaning. If integrity is repeatedly spoken about but convenience determines decisions, people quickly understand the real standard. If responsibility is demanded from juniors while seniors avoid accountability, institutional trust weakens.
The problem, therefore, may not be a lack of rules or orders. What matters more is whether leaders themselves follow what they expect from others.
Taking These Values Beyond the Uniform
How, then, can these values become part of everyday life? Civilian society cannot—and should not—be turned into a military organisation, nor can character be imposed through rules alone. But schools, workplaces and public institutions can provide opportunities for people to learn teamwork, responsibility, resilience and leadership through experience.
Building Resilience Through Education
Education is not only about marks, examinations and academic achievement. It is also about preparing young people for life. Children need opportunities to work in teams, face manageable challenges, accept setbacks and learn that success sometimes requires repeated effort. Sports, adventure programmes and community service can develop cooperation, responsibility and perseverance in ways that textbooks alone cannot.
Many of us acquired these qualities without ever being formally taught them. While playing games such as gilli-danda, we negotiated our own rules, settled disagreements, accepted defeat and returned to the game after failure. Such games developed not only coordination and endurance, but also patience, adaptability and emotional control.
This is not to romanticise the past or reject technology. Children today must acquire digital proficiency. But when screens replace physical play, community participation and face-to-face interaction, opportunities to develop resilience may diminish. What we need is a sensible balance. There is room for both. Children need modern education and digital skills, but they also need the lessons that come from physical play and interaction with others.
The National Cadet Corps, in particular, already provides young people with exposure to discipline, teamwork and service. Wider participation and greater support for such programmes can bring these experiences to many more students.
Schools can also encourage responsibility in simple ways. Character is often revealed not when someone is being watched, but in the choices made when no one is watching. The purpose should not be to make education unnecessarily harsh. The objective is quite the opposite: to prepare young people gradually for a world which will not always be predictable or easy.
Bringing Leadership Lessons into the Workplace
Technical competence alone is not enough. Organisations also need individuals who can work in teams, accept responsibility and remain steady under pressure. Leadership development need not be expensive. Community service, disaster-management training, outdoor leadership and structured team activities can expose young professionals to situations outside their normal workplace. The aim is not to make civilian employees behave like soldiers, but to develop adaptability and reliability. During my years in uniform, I have repeatedly seen how another person’s success may depend upon your reliability. That lesson has equal value in an office, hospital, school or business.
Leadership by Example in Public Life
Perhaps the most important lesson is also the simplest: a leader must practise what he expects from others. An administrator cannot demand punctuality while regularly arriving late, nor can a manager demand integrity when his own decisions are guided by convenience. Authority becomes meaningful when supported by personal example. I have also learnt that good mentorship requires balance. People need encouragement, but they must also be corrected when necessary. A good mentor neither humiliates nor avoids difficult conversations. He guides people and helps them improve. This, to me, remains one of Major Chauhan’s most enduring lessons: leadership begins with oneself.
From a Strong Leader to a Strong Institution
Military service has taught me that no institution should depend too heavily upon one strong leader. Military organisations understand this well. Commanders change. Officers are posted out. People retire. Yet, the organisation must continue to function. Procedures, traditions, training and institutional memory provide continuity.
What holds true for a military unit holds equally true for a civilian institution. If an organisation performs well only during the tenure of one particular leader, the institution itself may not yet be strong. Real institution-building occurs when standards survive the individual who introduced them. This is why the idea of an ‘institutional Major Chauhan’ is more useful than searching for a real Major Chauhan. The aim should not be to depend upon a few strong personalities. It should be to build institutions where responsibility, integrity, mentoring and personal example become part of everyday functioning.
The leader eventually leaves. The standard should remain.
What Should—and Should Not—Travel Beyond the Uniform
Any attempt to draw lessons from military life must also recognise an important boundary. The Armed Forces and civilian institutions serve different purposes. Military command exists because combat can demand rapid decisions, unity of command and obedience under conditions where lives and national security are at stake. A university, business, hospital or civil department functions in a different environment.
Therefore, military command structures cannot simply be copied into civilian life. Nor should discipline be confused with unquestioning obedience. Healthy civilian institutions require debate, professional disagreement, innovation and the freedom to question established practices. Even within professional military education, critical thought is essential because future leaders must be able to understand complex situations rather than merely follow familiar patterns.
The useful lessons lie in the values, not in the command structure. Discipline must be balanced with empathy, and authority must always come with accountability. Without this balance, discipline can become too rigid and authority can easily be misused.
These distinctions are important if the lessons of military life are to have genuine relevance outside the Armed Forces.
A Practical Way Forward
An institutional ‘Major Chauhan’ does not require a new government scheme. Much can be achieved through practical changes within existing institutions.
First, education should give greater importance to experiential learning. Sports, NCC, adventure activities, community service and team-based responsibilities can complement academic education. Second, organisations should treat leadership development as more than promotion-oriented training. Young professionals should be given responsibility early, allowed to make reasonable mistakes and taught to learn from them. Third, mentoring should become a more conscious part of institutional culture. A good mentor does not shield a junior from every failure. He prepares the junior to work independently. Fourth, accountability must apply upwards as well as downwards. People are more likely to accept high standards when their leaders follow them too. Finally, institutions must ensure continuity. Good practices should be documented, taught and passed on so that they survive changes in leadership.
None of these suggestions is particularly complicated. In fact, many of them are things that good institutions already try to do. During my service, I have seen how small, consistent actions strengthen institutions. Nation-building also happens quietly—in classrooms, offices, hospitals, training grounds and workplaces where individuals decide whether to accept responsibility or pass it on.
Conclusion: The Responsibility Beyond the Border
The responsibility for building a strong nation cannot rest entirely upon the men and women guarding its borders. A soldier can defend the frontier, but the strength of society ultimately depends upon the conduct of its citizens and institutions. India’s economic progress, technological achievements and growing strategic importance deserve our pride. But they also leave us with another question: are our institutions developing the character required to sustain that progress?
A country is strengthened not only by its military capability and infrastructure, but also by how its people conduct themselves in everyday life. Armies defend our frontiers. The responsibility for what exists within those frontiers belongs to all of us. More than three decades after Prahaar appeared on the screen, Major Chauhan remains relevant to me for a simple reason. He reminds us that discipline matters, leadership begins with personal example, courage extends beyond the battlefield, and responsibility cannot always be passed to someone else.
We neither can nor should turn everyone into a soldier. We simply need to carry some of the soldier’s finest values—discipline, resilience, responsibility, integrity and courage—into our own lives and institutions. The real ‘Missing Command’ is not someone standing above us and giving orders. It is the inner voice that makes us accept responsibility even when nobody is watching. When such conduct becomes a habit, institutions become stronger.
Every generation needs a Major Chauhan. More importantly, every generation needs the courage to become one.
Disclaimer: The views expressed are those of the author and do not necessarily represent the views of the organisation to which he belongs.


Welcome to The Indian Hawk. To safeguard constructive defense and geopolitical debate, we enforce a strict zero-tolerance policy against anti-national content, trolling, spam, profanity, and toxic political brawls.
Note: Violators will be permanently banned instantly.
Let's keep the discourse sharp, civil, and strategic.