Author: Krishnan Srinivasan

Why Is a War Correspondent’s Profession a Calling?

In ‘I Brought the War with Me’, British journalist Lindsey Hilsum has the courage to introduce the human interest despite the brutality, and by and large, with welcome non-romanticism.

Of the 50 short on-the ground narratives about various conflict zones, British journalist and war correspondent Lindsey Hilsum has structured her autobiographical text in ten segments. Within those segments, the events are neither chronological nor confined to one country.

‘I Brought the War with Me: Stories and Poems from the Front Line’, Lindsey Hilsum, Chatto & Windus, UK, 2024.

The narratives refer to warzones in the Middle East, Africa and Europe, with less than a handful in Asia and one in North America, and in terms of specific countries, the maximum references are to Syria, followed by Ukraine, Palestine/Israel, Rwanda and Russia.  The absence of Asia, by and large, and Latin America is explained by British priorities and possibly the journalist’s available budgets.

Why is a war correspondent’s profession a calling? Because, in Hilsum’s words, ‘the act of documenting someone’s story makes it count for something, or at least for something more than if it had never been recorded at all.’ She finds reporting from warzones ‘rewarding and exciting,’ the feeling of ‘living through history’ in which ‘nightmares, anger, tears and bouts of despondency are all normal…it is hard to believe that humans are inherently good.’

Sometimes she was an eyewitness to history; at others, among the first on the scene. In 1994, Hilsum served with UNICEF in Rwanda, the only foreign reporter when the Hutu genocide of the minority Tutsis began and led to 800,000 killed, one of the most brutal mass crimes of the 20th century. She reports that ‘I was alone in a city I scarcely knew with no petrol in my car. Barricades manned by red-eyed drunken men armed with broken beer bottles, machetes and nail-studded clubs had sprung up all over town.’ And on the Palestine West Bank, ‘we were the first outsiders in nearly two weeks who hadn’t come to kill them.’

Hilsum has the courage to introduce the human interest despite the brutality, and by and large, with welcome non-romanticism. She states that some ‘details were tantalizing in their mundanity…There was nothing that could be called victory. There was certainly no glory,’ pointing out the ‘futility and cruelty of war which never achieves the results promised by those who start it.’ In using the words of interviewees verbatim, Hilsum notes that the most courageous people in war have been civilians, and ‘war brings out the best and worst in people.’ In countless instances of inhumanity, she saw that in Uganda ‘children became the most feared fighters because they knew no restraint,’ and one with ‘a louring volatility I have never seen in an adult soldier.’

Lindsey Hilsum. Photo: Chatham House, CC BY 2.0.

Hilsum has no respect for American overseas interventions; the Afghans did not believe bin Laden had orchestrated the 9/11 attack from Afghanistan, and regarded the Americans as just another foreign invasion. The USA had equally little impact with its ‘reckless and aggressive behaviour’ in Iraq when its invasion had brought anarchy in its wake – ‘an ignorant, ahistorical intervention by outsiders.’ The Iraqis that had welcomed the US intervention ‘were now trembling with fury and outrage…US troops were regarded as liberators for less than 24 hours.’ So, is ‘totalitarian oppression’ better than the bedlam that follows it more often than not? This remains an imponderable question.

Hilsum considers terrorism in Europe: ‘If you thought about it too much it was unnerving so on the whole, we didn’t…Jihadism only has currency because their generation is looking for identity and meaning.’ Like W.H. Auden, she ‘knew human folly like the back of [her] hand.’ Therefore, she writes that ‘the online world increasingly demands binary attitudes; the only authentic response [varies] between happy warrior and bitter pacifist,’ whereas ‘experience tells me that that war never turns out as planned, and taints everyone it touches.’

Hilsum predicts that the ongoing conflict in the Sahel presages wider wars and greater African numbers who will try to escape to Europe and the US, and that refugee flows caused by climate change are only starting. She observes that the top five refugee-hosting countries include only one developed nation – Germany. Western societies are riven by polarising politics, AI disassociates the decision-makers from the killed while she regrets that ‘journalists focus on what is critical now.’ Deploring the destruction of ancient monuments, she states ‘the moment of history in which they [the combatants] were living was more important to them than preserving emblems of the country’s past.’

With unsentimental but often evocative prose, Hilsum notes that ‘Nothing bonds you to your colleagues as intensely as being under fire.’ Her own experiences were ‘too painful to recall but too searing to forget,’ for example, ‘In Mexico it’s more dangerous to be a journalist than a drug trafficker.’ And there are also rare flashes of humour – as in Ukraine when ‘statements of questionable veracity [about the author’s alleged connections with the British Queen] would speed up our passing through almost any roadblock.’

The poems are sometimes more eloquent than the text. After all, from time immemorial poetry has dealt with the tropes of passion and battle. Assessing a poem is a deeply subjective exercise, but the context for the poems is apposite, the poets sometimes familiar, others unexpected like Enheduanna, the world’s (2300 BC) earliest poet with her hymns to Sumerian goddesses Inana and Nanna; and touching when they concern the futility of settlement of disputes through force.

A student or practitioner of international relations would be on the lookout for any suggestion of bias, and to the author’s credit there are few, save a predisposition to oppose actions by Russia and Syria on account of ‘dictatorships’, irrespective of the legitimacy of their positions, and when ‘similarities between enemies can be almost unbearable.’ Russia according to the author has ‘belligerent imperial ambition’ which reflects the UK’s government and media’s prejudices.

It has to be questioned whether the non-chronological, non-geographical system of the book best serves the author’s interest. It seems so designed to appeal to the emotions rather than a reasoned train of sequence. It is for each reader to judge the validity of this format.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

Living the Asian Century — An Undiplomatic Memoir

Kishore Mahbubani’s memoir merits reading for its rags to prominence story, examination of the highs and lows in dealing with the political and diplomatic landscape, and severe self-dissection of his motives and career graph.

Born in 1948 to impoverished Sindhi parents in Singapore, Kishore Mahbubani is acclaimed as a prominent diplomat, respected public intellectual and credible spokesman for the current Asian century. His memoir is notable for diverse aspects; the academic and bureaucratic success of a largely self-educated person, Singapore as a multi-racial economic success after its break from Malaysia, vignettes of some founding fathers of Singapore, and the international landscape in which the city state retained its robust independence.

Living the Asian Century, Kishore Mahbubani, Public Affairs/Hachette, New York, 2024.

Mahbubani describes quite dispassionately the travails of his early life — an alcoholic father, cramped living conditions, a future without promise — but redeemed by a long-suffering and religious ‘tiger mom’, so often the key to a son’s success. Taking to reading, a minority pastime in his first school, Mahbubani was able to enter a better school and then college (1967-70) as a government scholar, where he studied philosophy and edited the college magazine Singapore Undergrad distinguished for being outspoken and non-conformist.

He was at the time convinced about the advanced secular West and backwardness of the rest, including Hindu religious rituals and traditional customs of respect. He was fortunate to be born into Singapore’s multiracial milieu, and “Two separations had brought calm to my life: my mother from my father in 1962 and Singapore’s from Malaysia in 1965.”

Required by his scholarship to work for the government for five years, he joined the Ministry of Foreign Affairs (MFA) in 1971, whose minister was Rajaratnam, and donated 8/9th of his salary to his mother. He describes his foreign postings; Cambodia as Chargé d’Affaires from 1973-4 during the war with the insurgent radical Khmer Rouge, Kuala Lumpur (1976-9), Washington DC (1982-4) as deputy chief of mission and ambassador to the UN (1984-9 and 1998-2004). In between were postings in MFA (1979-82, 1989-91 and 1993-8).

In Cambodia he experienced upper class life for the first time with house, staff and car, though not yet familiar with the use of cutlery. His next foreign experience was a one-year MA philosophy course in Halifax, where he discovered that the academic life did not suit him, married Gretchen, an American lady from the “comfortably middle class”, and found on return to Singapore that his research earned him the friendship of deputy prime minister and defence minister Goh Keng Swee, although his mother lost face among the Sindhi community since his one bedroom lodging was too small to enable her to live with him and wife as tradition demanded..

In Kuala Lumpur, he knew he “would be heading towards physical comfort and political discomfort [due to strained ties between Malaysia and Singapore] but Gretchen and I finally had enough to live on after sending my mother $1,000 monthly.” He “encountered the continuing suspicion of and hostility towards Singapore among the Malaysian establishment” despite sharing social and cultural identities like India and Pakistan. The author acknowledges he may not have been popular in his embassy, and his end-of-posting report on the rift between Singapore and Malaysia caused his high commissioner to disagree strongly. He also faced personal tragedy; his wife suffered two miscarriages and lost a third baby at birth.

After his tenure in Washington, when he and Gretchen divorced and he met future wife Anne, his rapid rise, aged 35, was confirmed by being assigned as ambassador to the UN. His spirits were further boosted by authoring an article in Foreign Affairs. His mother and now separated father felt jubilation at his UN appointment whose prestige they valued as much as the financial security brought to the family. This assignment gave Mahbubani “social and intellectual standing” and his appointment as deputy secretary in MFA and a one-year course at Harvard followed. 

Mahbubani became permanent secretary in 1993, overcoming some negative appraisals concerning his insecurity hidden behind over-confidence and ambition, which he ascribes to his background of poverty and determination to overcome the handicaps. His tenure as head of the foreign service was fulfilling, but after bilateral talks with his Malaysian counterpart, he was sharply criticised by former Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew (LKY) for exaggerating his influence at home. The support of current Premier Goh Chok Tong was important, and he returned, aged 49, as ambassador to the UN, this time to be an elected member of the UN Security Council (UNSC).

When the New York assignment ended, he felt depressed about future prospects but was appointed dean of the LKY School of Public Policy, with a curriculum that included economics, politics management and leadership, from 2004 to 2017. Mahbubani was successful in fund-raising and it became the third best endowed institute with academic standards validated globally. And through his publications Mahbubani became “one of the main narrators of the greatest story of our time: the return of Asia to the world stage.” He stepped down in the middle of his third five-year term at age 69 for unspecified reasons but with plaudits for his contributions to the institution.

Reverting to the main themes of this memoir, Mahbubani at university was thought a rebel against the authoritarian Singapore regime and aspired to be an academic in philosophy, but in Cambodia he discovered his mission to defend Singapore against external bullies, and writes “It has been my joy to live the Asian dream and perhaps contribute a little to the realisation of the Asian century.” He admires, even enthuses over, the leadership which through robust deliberations gave deep consideration to current issues to safeguard the future and guide Singapore’s progress. 

He attributes Singapore’s success story to the founding fathers’ bold and unconventional methods and willingness to recruit initial dissenters like himself.  For a country with no natural resources and scarce territory, Singapore’s financial reserves are impressive due to frugality and discipline along with pragmatism and honesty. Singapore’s bureaucracy was merit-based and high office accessible to the relatively young because the leadership was willing to forgive if not forget. Despite being youthful and low in status, Mahbubani was able to access high levels of Singapore’s government such as Rajaratnam and Goh Keng Swee and win their support.

Regarding the first prime minister’s towering personality which could be sharp with dissent, “Lee Kuan Yew always had multiple objectives… he was a political juggler of the greatest skill.” He would not suffer fools, but was not petty nor vindictive, which enabled Mahbubani to retain the self-confidence to express his views openly. In foreign policy, LKY’s objective was good relations with USA to create political space for Singapore to take its own decisions. In 1990, LKY gave way to Goh Chok Tong, the first transition since 1965, but his room was not used by his successor even after his death in 2015.

During Mahbubani’s first term at the UN, his main pursuit was mobilizing support against Vietnam for invading Cambodia, and in his second, to win the UNSC seat and stall US efforts to increase Singapore’s compulsory financial contribution.  Like other authors, he notes that “power speaks more eloquently than personality” in generating influence, and permanent UNSC members derisively viewed the elected members as ‘tourists’. Big powers had double standards and the West lectured the rest of the world. The USA was constrained by multilateral rules and institutions, and reacts by dominating the SC and the UN Secretariat, seeing itself as a great power that could impose sanctions whenever a problem arose. Mahbubani’s attitude to the United States evolved over time. Starting with deep admiration, he became disillusioned with the Anglo-Saxon world and wanted to encourage greater self-confidence among fellow Asians, noting “The callousness and cruelty of America’s impact upon the world…The US was totally incapable of listening to or heeding the advice of friends.”

Indian readers may be disappointed that there are rare mentions of India and none of Indian diplomats. Those named are usually Americans, and Mahbubani says that some his best diplomatic tutors were American colleagues. There are tantalizing phrases in the text such as “a dependent mentality in Singapore” (attributed to Foreign Minister George Yeo), “culture of secrecy that has become deeply embedded in Singapore” and “Singapore government culture of complete paranoia” but are not elaborated on. The book’s dedication reveals that the author’s parents are dead, but his sainted mother’s passing finds no other. mention. Given Singapore as an US ally, it is unsurprising that in 1977, he declares, “ASEAN countries were traumatised by the fall of Indo-China to the communists,” but describing PLO chief Arafat, Syria’s Assad and Iraq’s Saddam as “pro-Soviet thugs” is inappropriate, and use of the term ‘Red China’ as late as 2001 is anachronistic.

This memoir by a renowned academic and top-ranking bureaucrat from Asia merits reading for its rags to prominence story, examination of the highs and lows in dealing with the political and diplomatic landscape, and severe self-dissection of his motives and career graph. Important in the mix is Mahbubani’s high idealism for Asia to assert the self-confidence to claim its rightful leadership role in the world.  

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary. 

The (False) Alarm in India About a Japanese Invasion During World War II

In an amalgam of scholarly history and popular narrative for the layperson, Mukund Padmanabhan delivers a succinct new dimension to a period of many facets: war and defence, imperialism and nationalism, rumour and fact, courage and cowardice.

The title tells the tale; Mukund Padmanabhan’s The Great Flap of 1942 covers the alarm in India during the second world war about a Japanese invasion, and the consequent flight of people from many towns, both coastal and inland, to escape from it. In retrospect, it was much ado about nothing. The Japanese invasion was limited to a brief unsuccessful incursion into Northeast India in 1944. 

Padmanabhan researched this little-publicised aspect of the war after hearing his mother’s difficulties when, like others, she fled inland from Madras for one year with her parents. He discovered that much of India was gripped by similar panic. Indians and Europeans were equally fearful, the chaos being compounded by lack of management by the British. The ‘flap’ seriously dented the Raj’s prestige.

Mukund Padmanabhan
The Great Flap of 1942: How the Raj panicked over a Japanese non-invasion
Vintage, 2024

Padmanabhan writes, “The Japanese threat is not easily slotted into either of the two grand narratives of British decolonization and the Indian freedom struggle,” and poses two broader questions: did the Japanese threat affect Britain’s attitude to India’s freedom; and did the war influence the course of the freedom movement? On the first; after the urgings of Chiang KaiShek and Roosevelt, a reluctant Churchill Cabinet put forward proposals carried to India by Stafford Cripps. On the second, the Cripps mission was “scuppered by Gandhi’s beliefs in nonviolence and a likely Japanese victory.”

Gandhi was inconsistent. He first favoured mass action to hasten freedom while opposing armed defence – aggression would be met by non-violence. If Britain left India, he thought Japan would leave an independent India alone. But by June 1942, Gandhi’s position changed. He said he did not want a Japanese victory and, implying that the absence of troops would provoke Japanese aggression, agreed that Britain and its allies could use India as a base. 

Japanese propaganda claimed its army would help Indians achieve independence, and Indian soldiers who defected were treated humanely by the advancing troops. This gave rise to sympathy from a “sizeable [Indian] constituency”, as Japanese broadcasts highlighted British racism and Asian freedom. Chiang KaiShek in 1942 said, “If the Japanese should know of the real situation and attack India they would be virtually unopposed.”

The author narrates the background to the flap. Significant warnings of a likely invasion came from the fall of Hong Kong, Malaya, and finally Singapore to Japan in February 1942, the Andaman Islands the following month and the bombing of Colombo, Trincomalee, Vizag and Kakinada a month later. But Padmanabhan asserts there was no Japanese plan to invade, having neither the men, ships nor land-based aircraft to do so; their instructions were to disrupt Allied shipping and sporadically bomb cities from 1942-44.

The British “tacitly or otherwise” encouraged the exodus though they attributed it to Indian timidity. There were several causes for civilian flight from towns: it was questionable whether Britain was capable of defending India, having abandoned Hong Kong, Penang and Singapore. Air Raid Precautions (ARPs), blackouts, trenches and civil defence measures stoked panic, as did refugees from Burma and Ceylon, along with Britain’s reluctance to establish Indian defence industries and involve Indians in defence management. There was rationing, food and petrol shortages, wild rumours of Japanese attacks and of European women and children being evacuated. A practice air raid warning in Vizag led to 10% of the population fleeing. The whole atmosphere was one of the Raj in retreat.

Also read: Why the Second World War Remains Relevant for India Today

The arrival of foreign soldiers after 1941 led to apprehensions of “real, alleged, and imagined” misbehavior, though the number of serious incidents was “extremely small”. To an extent, such incidents offset the reported atrocities of the invading Japanese. By the end of the war, there were 240,000 British and 120,000 American troops in India.

Madras and Calcutta City Corporations, as early as 1938, wanted more defences against Japan and called for military training but came up against Gandhi’s non-violence which made no distinction between national security and the freedom struggle. Congress delivered mixed messages; in 1938 it disapproved of ARPs which “spread an atmosphere of approaching war,” and Gandhi demanded that no ‘scorched earth’ policy should apply to India. Leaders indulged in semantics and nitpicking on evacuation rather than providing clarity. C. Rajagopalachari censured the Madras authorities for creating panic and advocated resisting the Japanese, while claiming that the risk of invasion was remote. Mixed messaging by the Raj after the bombing of Rangoon (Myanmar) in December 1941 and the fall of Singapore in 1942 added to the confusion. Some newspapers endorsed evacuation because a defenceless people could not be expected to stay. 

Padmanabhan takes Madras as a case study, where exodus took place in three phases; the well-off left when the Japanese entered the war and by mid-January 1942, 30% had left. The second phase was when Singapore surrendered, the Colombo bombing of April 1942 and the arrival of 30,000 refugees from Ceylon led to another exodus. That month British intelligence mistakenly anticipated a Japanese invasion in Madras Presidency by 10 Japanese divisions and the government ordered evacuation with free board and lodge being provided in six camps 40 miles from Madras. With this third phase, 87% of the city had fled. Madras was the only big city where there was an official evacuation advisory. In an anti-climax, in October 1943, a lone Japanese plane dropped a few bombs in the Madras port area.

Among other places where evacuation took place were Bombay, Calcutta, Hyderabad, Delhi, Cuttack, Cochin, Madurai, Trichy, Mysore, Jamshedpur, Bihar coal fields, Ahmadabad, Imphal, Gauhati and Shillong – the last two lost 75 and 40%  of their populations respectively.

Apart from exhuming the main elements of the flap, Padmanabhan uncovers the little-known internment of 2,000 Japanese in the Delhi Old Fort and freezing of Japanese assets in 1941. And he concludes with the sad story of zoo animals and household pets being shot and sacrificed for the war effort, not only in India, but in various cities like London, Rangoon, Sydney, Warsaw and Berlin, to save food and prevent dangerous creatures being accidentally released and roaming wild.

In an amalgam of scholarly history and popular narrative for the layperson, Padmanabhan delivers a succinct new dimension to a period of many facets; war and defence, imperialism and nationalism, rumour and fact, courage and cowardice.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

In Brazil After Bolsonaro, the Significance of Lula Da Silva’s Return and the Challenges Ahead

Lula was elected president in his fourth attempt, becoming the first person from outside the political and economic élite who did not have a degree. The obstacles he faces in his third term are formidable.

Brazil is a big country, with a population of 214 million. It is the second most populated country in the Americas and third in land area. During President Lula da Silva’s first two tenures from 2002 to 2010, millions emerged from poverty through welfare and education schemes.

Now 77, a survivor of jail (2018-20) and cancer, Lula grew up in a poor rural household. He was the seventh child out of eight children. A former metal worker, he rose through union politics.

He was married thrice; his present wife, who is his Workers Party (PT) colleague, is 21 years younger.

Lula was elected president in his fourth attempt, becoming the first person from outside the political and economic élite who did not have a degree.

He is immensely popular with the poor and the least educated section of the society because of cash-transfer policies, backed by education and healthcare. By 2010, a quarter of the population was benefiting from such policies.

His policies deepened human rights and decreased hunger, poverty, inequality, and child labour. Upward social mobility was achieved through access to education, including the use of quotas, scholarships, incentives, and finance. By 2017, nearly 10% of the ‘coloured’ people, who are 56% of the population, graduated, while 22% of white individuals also graduated.

Brazil became a recognised player across the world, and was a leader in controlling climate change. However, the need for coalition governments in Brazil has been a consistent factor. Since he came to power, allegations of corruption were made against Lula. It was alleged that he bought votes. His narrow win as president last year showed that the taint of corruption still persists.

Lula was followed by his chosen successor, Dilma Rousseff, who held the position from 2011 to 2016. However, the economic situation changed for the worse, as demand for Brazilian exports fell, and she mismanaged the administration. Poverty levels surged, public services deteriorated, her approval rating plummeted to less than 30%, and corruption scandals contributed to her downfall.

Lula’s policies were further discarded by Michel Temer, who succeeded Rousseff, but the greatest change came with President Jair Bolsonaro, who held the position from 2018 to 2022. He is known for his extreme populist nationalism, which ended on January 8, 2023, when, in protest against Lula’s victory, his supporters, along with the army and security agencies, invaded the main governmental institutions.

Representative image. Photo: Unsplash

The ensuing domestic and international denunciation of the riots helped Lula, however, the obstacles he faces in his third term are formidable.

Bolsonaro’s term

Bolsonaro was a seven-term Congressman who switched parties seven times. He “had no friends in Latin America,” and reversed Lula’s policies, prioritising alliance with Christian nations and close ties with the US. He was undone by an administration considered “obscurantist, exclusivist and retrograde,” the popularity of Lula, and the inept handling of the COVID-19 pandemic since he was a vaccine denier.

Health and education were underfunded, concerns about climate change and environment grew, and for the first time, the incumbent failed to get re-elected.

Bolsonaro traded on anti-PT, anti-corruption, and anti-criminal sentiment; he thought higher education had been “captured by the ideology of the Left”, and cut education funding.

Income growth mostly went to the better-off. In 2021, there were 33 million people living in poverty, 18 million people were extremely poor, and food insecurity affected 15% of the population.

“Mechanisms that explained the mitigation of hunger were dismantled,” 8,000 Cuban doctors were forced to withdraw from their profession. Human rights concerns were dismissed.

Bolsonaro regarded indigenous rights as “obstacles” to agri-business, illegal timber and mining, and was prepared to use violence to achieve his objectives.

He called NGOs “anti-family”, “anti-god”, “anti-nation” and “anti-life” (abortion). He recognised the power of the military and police families who supported the use of violence to combat crime, and favoured gun ownership, brutal policing and police autonomy. He brought in former military officers into government positions because of “a certain nostalgia for the military dictatorships”, and deployed social media for “non-stop confrontation.”

His electoral defeat evoked international relief due to his reputation as the ‘Trump of the Tropics’.

But Lula faces a difficult transition.

The need to regain political and personal credibility for Lula

Having secured only a slim majority of 51-49%, Bolsonaro loyalists control half of the 26 states, the federal capital, and the three most populated and developed states. The legislature and courts are empowered and combative. There are fissures along race, income, gender, and religious lines. Pro and anti-Lula voters “disagreed on basically everything.”

In a deeply polarised Brazil, Lula will have to regain political and personal credibility, deal with rightist and centre-right governors, the Senate, the Congress, and the military with suspect loyalty, a stagnant economy, fiscal deficit, and about one-third, or 60-70 million people, in poverty.

Yet “all eyes are on Brazil and hopes are high.”

Lula will be a one-term president and this is his “last chance, and he has no room for error.” While “never intimidated in contact with powerful people,” and a “quintessential political negotiator,” his relations with the establishment were never easy, though he was more pragmatic and popular than the PT.

Lula will enjoy strong support from feminists and indigenous people when he focusses on sustainable growth, eradication of poverty, and extension of social programmes for the extreme poor and women. He must re-establish state control and restore public security as a social right.

Lula has chosen a conservative vice-president, but “relies on fewer people and takes almost all his important decisions alone.” His cabinet is oversized with the Left under-represented, and three centrist parties are key to his success, which could lead to defections.

The political opinions of the police and the army will be important. With 86 different police forces, and numerous veto holders, making reforms in reducing racial inequality in the police, authoritarian community policing and excessive violence will be difficult.

Though Brazil is technologically advanced and is doing well in the financial services sector, natural resources still remain key to its economy.

Lula encounters environmental issues related to dams, highways, gas, oil, biofuel, deforestation, and land tenure security.

Brazil after Bolsonaro: The Comeback of Lula da Silva, edited by Richard Bourne (Routledge, August 2023)

Brazil has 305 indigenous peoples and 100 uncontacted tribes comprising 0.8% of the population who suffer marginalisation and racism. Lula’s first tenure showed some improvement in this area, but his overall record was average. He demarcated 79 territories, more than what Rousseff did with demarcating 21 territories; Bolsonaro did none. Despite that, Lula will need political will to demarcate another 200 territories, expel illegal invaders, repeal anti-indigenous laws, and oppose vested interests.

Lula’s foreign policy was autonomy through international solidarity and energising South American integration. In his first terms, he sought global actor status, permanent membership of the UN Security Council, moved away from Europe and strengthened ties with Africa. He now has to remove rightist ideology from foreign affairs, and balance ties with China and Russia so as not to alienate the US, considering a possible Trump comeback in 2024.

Compilations are not normally considered worth reviewing due to diversity of style and content. However, this volume of Brazil After Bolsonaro: The Comeback of Lula Da Silva, edited by Richard Bourne, is an exception.

It is no hagiography, with critical comments and telling points on every page. Considering Lula’s tenure is only a few months old, this is a rushed job but with superb editing there are hardly any typos, there is a good index and useful graphs, though a list of acronyms is sorely needed.

The language throughout is excellent and the flow seamless, considering that some contributions presumably needed translation from Portuguese. The last chapter, by a former president of Costa Rica, is a brilliant and compelling read. This is an essential book to understand today’s Brazil and Lula, whose success is paramount for the aspirational Global South.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

A Peek Into Ten Years in the Life and Career of a Successful Indian Diplomat

Chinmaya R. Gharekhan writes about time he was in the prime minister’s office (PMO) and ambassador to the UN at New York.

Ambassador Chinmaya Gharekhan joined the Indian Foreign Service in 1958 and was one of India’s most brilliant and successful diplomats. By an accident of fate – or misjudgment by then Prime Minister Narasimha Rao – he was never the foreign secretary, but is believed in the mid-2000s to have been offered the foreign ministership by Sonia Gandhi only to be turned down by Congress satraps under Manmohan Singh.

In Centres of Power: My Years in the PM’s Office and Security Council, which follows the author’s Horseshoe Table about his later period as under secretary-general at the UN Secretariat, he covers the 10 years from 1981 to 1991 during which time he was in the prime minister’s office (PMO) and ambassador to the UN at New York.

Given that the events described in the book are over 30 years old and can reasonably be assumed to be known to anyone sufficiently interested in such matters, what remains is the author’s view of the important people with whom he came in contact. Strangely, given that Gharekhan was a foreign policy expert, there is much in this book about domestic affairs, in which he was presumably not directly involved. He notes that concentration of power in the PMO has tended to depreciate the expertise of the civil service machinery. “In bureaucracy, access is everything” and having the PM’s ear inspired a feeling that he could influence decisions even more than the foreign secretary. As for politicians, he says “even puppet politicians are politicians first and puppets later”.

Chinmaya Gharekhan
Centres of Power: My Years in the PM’s Office and Security Council
Rupa, 2023

He believes Narasimha Rao was unconfident at dealing with his counterpart the Pakistani foreign minister, and that Indira Gandhi, when she had become used to someone, dealt through him/her irrespective of status. She never allowed any text to pass uncorrected, and took pains over trivia like gifts and menus. She did not share Nehru’s ideological affinity for Russia, was pro-British and was solicitous over British visitors, though she disliked the Commonwealth, perhaps because in that forum several heads of government indulged in very plain speaking. She cared about her coverage in the media, especially the Western press. She treated Indian ambassadors “with indifference and even contempt”, and was less than happy with Sri Lanka, Nepal and of course Pakistan. She “expected others to accept her as the world’s elder stateswoman and to give her due respect”. There is mention of how Indira’s officials tried to manoeuvre the Nobel Peace Prize for her, as bizarre as that sounds. Clearly some in high places at Delhi were, then as now, remote from reality.

The author speaks of how the Americans were “most excited” about Rajiv Gandhi’s assumption of office and took advantage of Rajiv’s inexperience to flood Delhi with a host of envoys of dubious quality. The prime minister for his part was anxious to “impress his interlocutors” with his sincerity. Soon, the PMO was aware that reference to, or praise for, Indira was not well received in the Rajiv circle. “Decisions were taken more or less off the cuff and by instinct.” He hardly had the time or inclination to read anything, and bureaucrats were insecure in the feeling they could be moved out at any time.

During his tenure in the PMO, Gharekhan was told he was considered a “progressive” in the PMO, though this is never explained. He displays sympathy for both Indira and Rajiv Gandhi, a case of propinquity leading to affection and affecting critical judgment. He is inclined to a benign view even of arrogant upstarts like the PMO stenographer R.K. Dhawan. Nevertheless, he allows himself to critique Indira’s invocation of family heritage – “the emphasis on family did not sound decent in a democracy”, adding, in another context, there “was no half-way house between democracy and dictatorship”.

On the US, the author states “if one wanted to have good relations with them, it was only possible on their terms”. So it amply proved during his tenure in New York as ambassador to the UN Security Council during the first Gulf War (1991), where the US propensity for unilateral action was obvious and when the UN’s role was sidelined; “the US bullied, badgered and bribed to get the votes. They flouted rules of procedure and traditions.’ As Gharekhan notes, this was the first war authorized by the UN ‘by passing a series of resolutions’ in the name of the UN though ‘it had absolutely no control over it.” Already at this early date, the US promoted the canard that Iraq was close to acquiring a nuclear bomb, namely, the same lie that led to the Second Gulf War (2003-11), left Iraq in the dire straits it is in today and spawned the Islamic State.

India’s economic situation was such that “everyone under the PM was conscious not to upset the Americans” though most Indian opinion was pro-Saddam, the president of Iraq. Gharekhan reflects that “my non-offensive, non-combative style” enabled him to ride this contradiction at the Security Council with dignity and self-respect. These indeed are the qualities the author is known for, which brought him to the highest platforms of international diplomacy.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

Why the Conclusion in Ukraine Will Be Untidy

The US and NATO seem determined to prolong the fight until Russia is weakened and destabilised, and its sympathisers shamed.

Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky was propelled into the headlines last year by the Russian invasion of Ukraine, becoming a permanent haranguer on the screens of Europe and the US, and projecting himself into whichever occasion he could contrive to make demands for moral and material support on behalf of his country. He was an actor elected in 2019 as an anti-establishment, anti-corruption campaigner, in contrast to the oligarchs who had preceded him in the notoriously corrupt country. But by the end of 2021, his approval had fallen to 32% for non-performance. The invasion was his redemption; he now rates around 95%.

Ukraine is a state but has struggled to consolidate itself as a nation; in the 30 years since the USSR’s dissolution, it produced no leader capable of uniting its citizens in any shared conception of national identity. The territory claimed by Kiev was assembled after World War II; eastern portions of Poland and Czechoslovakia were incorporated by Stalin and Crimea by Khrushchev. Since the entire Soviet Union was controlled from Moscow, these accretions were of little practical significance, but they produced fractures along linguistic, religious and cultural lines, made worse by the unitary government and not a federal one that could have allowed some devolution.

The break-up of the Soviet Union in 1991 resulted in unfortunate consequences for many inside and outside the USSR, particularly the ethnic Russians that found themselves minorities in newly independent republics. A basic principle of Moscow’s foreign policy after 2000 has been attention to, and protection of, these Russian minorities, which was evident in Georgia, Moldova and now in Ukraine.

The 2014 Ukraine revolution that overthrew President Yanukovich because he preferred closer ties with Russia rather than with the European Union saw the US and EU openly supporting the uprising in order to attach Ukraine to the EU and NATO, although Ukraine was ineligible for both under normal requirements. With Yanukovich’s departure, the Donbas uprising against Kiev was supported by Russia. The 2014 and 2015 Minsk agreements were to provide Donbas a degree of autonomy through election of local officials with Kiev guarding the Donbas external borders, but the Kiev legislature rejected both the federal structure and amnesty for secessionists. An impasse developed; although Zelensky was initially anxious to arrive at a settlement with Moscow, he could not risk his political future by implementing the Minsk agreements against nationalist and far-right ‘neo-Nazi’ opposition, and he had the support of the US in not doing so. Only an implementation of Minsk might have persuaded Russia to withdraw from Donbas, though that is now moot with Moscow having incorporated the four eastern and southeastern Ukraine provinces into Russia.

Also read: How Feasible Is it For India to Broker Peace Between Russia and Ukraine?

Due to naïveté or instigation from the West, Zelensky made no effort to reassure Moscow about any intention to seek membership of NATO during the Russian build-up leading to the February invasion, and within a month of the invasion, tripartite talks in Antalya between Turkey, Ukraine and Russia arrived at contours of a diplomatic solution, with Kyiv eschewing future membership of NATO and a time-bound status quo in Crimea, but expectations were dashed allegedly due to US objections.

Now, a year later, with at least eight million Ukrainian refugees across Europe and six million internally displaced, the fighting continues with increasing devastation. Neither party accepts the other’s conditions for a ceasefire. The total donations to Ukraine for its military and administrative arrangements are €106 billion, with the US leading with €48 bn and the EU with €35 bn. The World Bank and IMF have contributed $2 bn in contrast to their indifference to the abject destitution in war-torn Yemen and Afghanistan. At every stage, with Zelensky like Oliver Twist ever asking for more, the West has delivered more modern weapons into Ukranian hands, though some European electorates are feeling uneasy, and German Chancellor Scholtz has deplored the ‘bidding war’ in which every Western leader postures like a wartime Churchill, every Ukranian is a voluble hero and photo opportunities with Zelensky reap domestic political benefits. With this degree of involvement, the US and NATO seem determined to prolong the fight until Russia is weakened and destabilised, and its sympathisers shamed.

White House spokesperson Jen Psaki warned that India should worry about how the history of Ukraine would record it, and a Kiev parliamentarian urged India to be sanctioned by Washington. In fact, history will record that Ukraine rebuffed Indian approaches in the early 1990s on nuclear cooperation, sold Pakistan 320 Ukrainian T-80UD battle tanks and robustly opposed Indian nuclear testing at the Conference on Disarmament in 1998. This came as no surprise; the new republics that separated from USSR were wary of India’s historic ties with Moscow, and overnight, decades-old patterns of economic, trade and cultural contacts were disrupted and are yet to be fully redeveloped. History will also record that no Asian country, other than known American allies, have implemented anti-Russian sanctions and that India’s policy is a triumph of pragmatic pursuit of the national interest.

Many wonder how the current conflict will end. It will be an untidy conclusion; Ukraine another divided country like Korea or Cyprus, though it could achieve unity and prosperity only through reasonable and cordial relations with Russia. A de facto partition of Ukraine would be a fragile flashpoint prone to insurgency and partisan activity backed by intelligence, weapons, monetary and logistical support that would make life in the Russian-absorbed enclaves difficult. Therefore, even a Russian face-saving outcome would prove pyrrhic. In the broader context, Ukraine is the harbinger of future ‘total’ wars, weaponising artificial intelligence, propaganda, energy, sanctions, finance, banking, cyberspace, digital technologies and social media.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

Edited by Jahnavi Sen.

Book Review: Delving Into the Rafale Deal’s Many Opaque Aspects

In ‘The Rafale Deal: Flying Lies’, authors Ravi Nair and Paranjoy Guha Thakurta examine in forensic detail the Indian negotiations with France over the purchase of the fighter jets.

In The Rafale Deal: Flying Lies, authors Ravi Nair and Paranjoy Guha Thakurta have examined in forensic detail the Indian negotiations with France over the purchase of the Rafale fighter jets for the Indian Air Force and concluded that many opaque aspects remain to be clarified if doubts about the probity of the deal are to be laid to rest.

Ravi Nair with Paranjoy Guha Thakurta
The Rafale Deal: Flying Lies
Paranjoy (November 2022)

A precis here of the history of the purchase might be necessary. Concluding a commercial bidding process that began in 2007, by 2012 the purchase of 126 Rafale aircraft from Dassault was decided upon with 18 planes in fly-away condition and the remainder to be assembled in India by HAL. By 2015, the negotiations were said to be 95% complete though Dassault was disinclined to guarantee the HAL planes. In a dramatic intervention on April 10, 2015, Prime Minister Narendra Modi in Paris announced he had asked French President Francois Hollande for 36 ‘fly-away’ Rafales on terms better than the ongoing process, which was considered superseded. This was a political decision, not a commercial one, that had not been approved by the Defence Acquisition Committee headed by the defence minister nor the Cabinet Committee on Security.

This new contract was implemented without seeking competitive bids, bank guarantee, an anti-corruption clause, obligation to transfer technology or manufacturing in India. The arbitration centre would be in Geneva and not India. Anil Ambani’s Reliance Aerostructure Ltd., though the company was financially stressed and “brought neither funds nor knowhow to the venture” other than political influence, was chosen as the offset partner by Dassault, which arrangement was worth about Rs 30,000 crore. Hollande first claimed that Ambani had been proposed by India and later recanted. A formal inter-government contract was signed for €7.8 billion in September 2016 with a 5-year maintenance warranty.  According to the authors, the cost was nearly Rs 900 crore more per aircraft though with an added new missile, and Rs 20,000 crore was paid in advance.

Three out of seven in the Indian negotiating team dissented on the price hike. The government pleaded a secrecy accord with France and security sensitivity to protect information about the costs.  It removed the CBI director from initiating an enquiry, and before the Supreme Court claimed a clearance from the Comptroller and Auditor General, who by then had not yet tabled his conclusions in Parliament. In December 2018, the court dismissed the petitions for an enquiry, which closed down the investigation into corruption allegations. The Indian negotiating team and Cabinet Committee on Security approved the deal post facto.

The main questions the authors pose are: why were only 36 planes acquired whereas the original requirement projected was 126? Who approved the deal? Why had the price escalated? Why was Anil Ambani’s company taken as the offset partner?

Prime Minister Narendra Modi and French President Francois Hollande at their April 10, 2015 press conference in Paris. Photo: PIB

Commendably, in the interest of equity, the authors have included a 42-page robust defence in 2020 of the 36-plane Rafale deal by retired Air Marshal R. Nambiar, who states that the prescribed procedures being complex and time-consuming, IAF’s need became progressively more pressing. The Dassault-HAL arrangement had broken down over the man-hours required, and the French company would not take responsibility for the 108 planes HAL was manufacturing. He asserts that the IAF had asked for at least 36 planes as an emergency procurement and the defence minister was aware of Modi’s intention to purchase 36 fly-away Rafales and their price since India did not have the money for 126 planes. Modi did not break procedures; in Paris, he only announced an intention, not a contract; the procedures were fulfilled later. Nambiar also claimed that the inter-government price was better pro rata than the commercial package, and was approved by the Defence Acquisitions Committee guided by the Indian negotiating team. As for the letter of comfort rather than a sovereign guarantee, Nambiar claimed that this covered only the offsets which were a commercial contract. Dassault had wanted an extra 0.35% for any bank guarantee which was unreasonable. And Geneva was accepted as the seat of arbitration since the inter-government process was entirely different from the commercial deal envisaged earlier.

The BJP government predictably accused the opposition of anti-national behaviour by undermining the military through formulating a “selective and incomplete picture”, and the Congress party and HAL for delaying the purchase pre-2014. There’s no denying that despite the IAF’s shortages, delays were caused by defence minister A.K. Antony, who repeatedly had the Dassault agreement reviewed. In any event, the original deal for 126 planes was unaffordable since there was no budget. There is no money trail, the CBI did not investigate the deal and the government refused a joint parliamentary committee, so corruption accusations are hard to level. Ambani’s preferential treatment can be ascribed to habitual crony capitalism. Indian media has lost interest and public engagement died with the 2019 election.

Modi, the ultimate event manager, loves the dramatic gesture, the big announcement – his unpredictability is his USP as one Delhi-based editor has written. In this case, precedents and procedures were set aside for the prime minister to appear a decisive nationalist. In the wake of this, the BJP and the cabinet engaged in mixed messaging, false leaks, contradictions, double-speak, half-truths and equivocations – a travesty for a party and leader who take pride in connecting seamlessly with the people.

French anti-corruption agencies were approached by an NGO called Sherpa in 2021 and a judge started an investigation into French malpractice, though it will be blunted by the French government’s plea of secrecy and will have marginal impact on the authors’ queries. The main French media platform making enquiries is Mediapart, whose target is a family headed by Brij Mohan Gupta, Dassault agents, who, it is claimed, received money for influence pedalling, and no less than 1 million Euros for producing 50 model replicas of Rafale.

The authors’ dedication and diligence are remarkable; this work is fully referenced and the sources are in the public domain, but the approach is one of an advocate’s brief which makes it difficult to engage. A summary of each chapter would have been advisable for readers who did not need, or wish, to encounter such granular detail. But the salient argument remains – that the ruling party has a case to answer and many doubts to clear. For this, the authors are to be commended.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

The MEA’s Hyper-Sensitive Rebuttals to Foreign Criticism Hurt Its Own Credibility

Insulting a friendly neighbour or well-intentioned interlocutor for the sake of public plaudits is too high a price for the country to pay.

According to media reports, the Ministry of External Affairs of the Government of India has dismissed the United States presidential advisor on religious freedom Rashad Hussain’s comment that religious freedom includes the ability to choose one’s religious attire. The MEA claimed that the matter is sub judice, and that Hussain’s remarks arose out of ignorance of India’s constitutional mechanisms and institutions.

A similar remonstration on this issue of hijabs in schools was also conveyed formally to the Organization of Islamic Cooperation. A rebuttal on the similar lines was earlier given to the United States Commission on International Religious Freedom that had recommended for some years that India be designated a country ‘of particular concern’. At that time, India dismissed such advice as “biased and tendentious”.

Also read: India Lodges Protest Against Singapore PM’s Speech on MPs With Criminal Charges

The latest evidence of New Delhi’s muscular hyper-sensitivity to foreign criticism concerns the Singapore Prime Minister’s speech in his national parliament. PM Lee Hsien Loong praised Jawaharlal Nehru and spoke of how when the vision of founding fathers fade, democratic deficits appear.

The context provided by the PM was that he had read in media reports that almost half the members of the Indian parliament face criminal charges. The actual figure might be 43% according to the electoral watchdog the Association for Democratic Reforms, but this reference was considered vexatious enough for the MEA to lodge an indignant protest with the Singapore high commissioner in India. Perhaps our MPs would have expected no less.

Also read: Know the Context: Here’s What Singapore’s PM Said About Nehru, Criminal Cases Against India’s MPs

Every government in the world, whether democratic or totalitarian, or anywhere in between, is deeply conscious of its external image and takes pains to cultivate a benign persona. This becomes more difficult to carry off as the globalised world demands greater transparency, and non-governmental organisations enjoy higher status and greater reputation.

The Indian government shows little patience for the views of domestic NGOs or concern for the viability of foreign NGOs in India, be it well reputed organisations like Oxfam and Amnesty International or lesser known bodies. It should not then be taken aback by the downgrade assessments of such as the United States Country Report on  human rights practices, the World Press Freedom Index, Freedom House, V-Dem Institute, Open Doors World Watch List and a host of other such vigilant groups. Commercial companies also attracted India’s official ire, with a tweet by Hyundai on Kashmir leading to representations at an inter-governmental level.

The question of how to respond to external criticism is always a delicate one, especially when it concerns foreign governments that are considered generally sympathetic. In general, the more autocratic a regime, the greater the umbrage towards foreign governmental or media censure; whereas the more tolerant and democratic the regime, the more accommodating it is towards well-meaning criticism. It is not wise to swat away foreign critiques with the same contempt as accusations from domestic political rivals. Mitigating allusions to domestic safeguards like the rule of law can be justified, but do not carry great weight when the nation’s record in checking abuses of human rights through the courts is seen as distinctly patchy.

Also read: Singapore’s PM Has Praised Nehru. MEA, ED Must Probe Who’s Behind This Anti-Modi Conspiracy

The broader issue is whether an excessively robust denial and display of muscular petulance serves any purpose other than to give satisfaction to the domestic audience. Protesting too much will undermine credibility when a moderate assurance to examine the grievance and redress any deficiency through the processes that are available would better serve the nation and preserve the goodwill of the interrogator. Uninformed and motivated interference in internal affairs is a charge that has merit if the aggrieved party does not indulge in the same practice, whereas India is on record as vigorously taking up Sikh and Hindu causes abroad even when they pertain to domestic jurisdiction over citizens of foreign nations. What is sauce for the goose is also sauce for the gander.

The chief minister in Delhi in May last year warned about a strain of COVID-19 observed in Singapore that was extremely perilous for children. During the excessive over-reaction habitual within India’s ruling elite, Foreign Minister S. Jaishankar pronounced that “irresponsible comments from those who should know better can damage long-standing partnerships”.

This advice has not been internalised by his own colleagues. A senior minster last year made many derogatory statements about Bangladesh when he described illegal Bangladeshi immigrants as vermin that he would push into the Bay of Bengal, and implied that poor people in Bangladesh were starving, which drew a stinging rebuke from the Bangladesh foreign minister.

As former police officer and ambassador Julio Ribeiro wrote in The Tribune on November 12, 2021,

“There is a need for wisdom and restraint in the pronouncements of our leaders. In their anxiety to claim credit and win elections, they often skip the need for common decency.”

This is where Jaishankar’s dictum is relevant. Insulting a friendly neighbour or well-intentioned interlocutor for the sake of public plaudits is too high a price for the country to pay.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

India Should Have Kept Its Embassy in Kabul Open

Whatever our distaste for the Taliban’s previous and present behaviour, their abuse of human rights, and the fact that they are beholden to Pakistan, it will nevertheless be essential to maintain connections with the incoming de facto regime.

India has evacuated its ambassador, his staff and the protection force from the country’s embassy in Kabul on the grounds of ‘conditions that are not normal’ according to the ambassador. 

These abnormal conditions are believed to include the Taliban seizure of the Shahir Visa Agency, which processes visas for Afghans seeking to travel to India, surveillance of the embassy by the Taliban, fears of a Lashkar- e-Tayyaba assault on the embassy compound, and the general atmosphere of complete chaos and confusion at Kabul airport where thousands of desperate Afghans had arrived in the hope of flying out of the country.

Only a few days ago, it was reported that New Delhi had no plans to evacuate the embassy and that it would be kept fully operational.

Clearly, the prevailing circumstances from the government’s point of view had altered sufficiently to change the former assessment. It is an important principle for any country that the security of its embassy personnel should not be placed in needless jeopardy, in this case despite the presence of the armed Indo-Tibetan Border Police contingent that had been deployed with the embassy since 2002 to protect the diplomatic mission and its staff.

Also watch: Frantic Scenes at Kabul Airport, Videos Show Desperate Afghans Clinging to Aircraft

And yet there are some cogent factors which argue for the maintenance in Kabul of the embassy and in particular, the ambassador personally.

The Indian government has for long years been comfortable with the combat role of the United States, NATO and its allies in Afghanistan. Most, if not all, of these bodies are in the process of evacuating their diplomatic personnel from Afghanistan, and for good reason, since they represent those once involved in fighting the Taliban and protecting the erstwhile leadership of former president Ashraf Ghani, and were thus considered hostile by the incoming Taliban authorities.

By remaining in Kabul, despite all the negative circumstances, India would have clearly distanced itself from those seen as adversaries fleeing the country, and such behaviour could only have been regarded by the ordinary Afghan – and perhaps the incoming regime too – as creditable.

All the influential countries of the region have retained their presence in the capital of Kabul and some have already been able to open some degree of contact with the Taliban authorities. These nations include Pakistan, Iran, Russia, China, and Turkey. By its evacuation, India is notably missing from this list, and by stepping back now, making up lost ground later may prove difficult. The past history of similar diplomatic withdrawals suggest that early resumption of normal activities is never easy.

Also read: India Calls for ‘Inclusive Dispensation’ in Afghanistan a Day After Taliban Seizes Kabul

Whether or not India has engaged in confidential talks with the Taliban – and there are sufficient hints by third parties to suggest there have been such interactions – establishing early connections with the incoming regime in Kabul will be important for all manner of reasons, including the safety of Indian citizens and the issuing of visas to Afghans who wish to travel to India, not least to reunite with family members. 

On the official level, there are the matters of our ongoing development activities and the safety of projects existing or under construction to be discussed with the new regime.

Whatever our distaste for the Taliban’s previous and present behaviour, their abuse of human rights, and their being beholden to Pakistan, it will nevertheless be essential to maintain connections with the incoming de facto regime, if only to emphasise our principles and safeguard our interests to the extent possible. 

Government officials welcome Indian citizen on their arrival from crisis-hit Afghanistan by an Indian Air Forces C-17 aircraft, in Jamnagar, Tuesday, Aug. 17, 2021. Photo: PTI

The Taliban assertions of civilised conduct need to be accepted at face value until proved otherwise, because there is no alternative but to do so. In this respect, we will be doing nothing more than the other regional powers, and we shall reap no benefits by stepping aside at this time. 

If a definition of diplomacy is the procedure of influencing the decisions and behaviour of a foreign government through dialogue, negotiation, and other measures short of violence, this cannot be practiced in absentia.

It is both official dogma and credible for well-established reasons that India enjoys the greatest respect and sympathy among the Afghan people. It will hardly burnish India’s reputation with the Afghans, whether officials or the proverbial man/woman in the street, if we remove our official presence in their country at the first sign of trouble, however ominous it might be, and join the evacuating countries who enjoy no such historical affinities with the Afghan people.

Even the Afghans who have fled their country would take some comfort from the presence of the Indian embassy remaining in Kabul.

With the evacuation of our embassy now complete, this appraisal has been overtaken by events. But for these and other good reasons, it is to be hoped that the activities of our diplomatic outreach in our important SAARC partner Afghanistan can be resumed as quickly as possible despite our flawed first move.  

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary.

Review: Exploring Giuseppe Garibaldi’s Military Enterprises in South America, Europe

In ‘Garibaldi in South America: An Exploration’, author Richard Bourne offers a detailed account of Italian military general Garibaldi’s life, and how he later came to be known as a ‘hero of two worlds’.

Giuseppe Garibaldi (1807-82) began his colourful career as a fugitive after a failed naval plot against the Piedmont King, for which he received a death sentence, and his flight took him in a roundabout way to Rio de Janeiro in 1835 at the age of 28. In Italy, he had been inducted into the underground Young Italy movement led by Giuseppe Mazzini for a united democratic republican Italy, and he was soon to become an active participant in the ever-shifting loyalties of the big and small South American brutal wars as new states were being created out of the ruins of the Spanish and Portuguese colonial empires, and boundaries were drawn and re-drawn through conflicts, local revolts and “chameleon figures who changed direction several times”.

Garibaldi first involved himself as a sailor for the Spanish-speaking Rio Grande (a separatist area in Portuguese-speaking Brazil) and later for Montevideo in a multi-faceted war in what is now Uruguay. In Brazil, he met widow Ana (Anita), his wife and fellow campaigner to be. He was then 32, she was 18, and they married in a church in Montevideo in 1842. She bore four children and died in Italy in 1849, still less than 28 years old.

Garibaldi in South America: An Exploration by Richard Bourne. Publisher: Hurst.

In Rio Grande, the majority population was mestizo (a person of a combined European and indigenous American descent), together with 30% who were in slavery. Garibaldi’s function for the so-called republic of Piratini in 1836 was to capture Brazilian vessels. After five years, the republican rebellion was not prospering and eventually was to peter out in 1845, but Garibaldi moved to Montevideo in 1841 where there were 6,000 Italians out of a population of 42,000, and the struggle was between warlords and private armies. In greatly simplified shorthand, from 1843 to 1851, Oribe laid siege to Montevideo along with Brazil and Argentina and was resisted by Rivera within the city and assisted in defying the siege by France and Britain who sought their own interests through trying to enforce freedom of trade and navigation in the Plate basin and the rivers Parana and Uruguay.

In this melée, mercenaries from Scotland, Germany, Spain, Austria, Ireland and America were fighting on every side and never consistently. Garibaldi threw in his lot with Rivera and created a small force of ships to harry the opposition, but he was obliged to fight on land as well as water, suffered capture and torture, and at times was obliged to live in hiding. Sometimes he was victorious, sometimes defeated, at other times the conflicts were indecisive, but then and later, author Richard Bourne writes that Garibaldi survived “a lifetime of close shaves”.

In 1842, Garibaldi took charge of a small fleet and soon established an Italian Legion with a few hundred men recognisable in their redshirt livery. In due time, he was appointed commander-in-chief, but for only a few weeks due to his ‘outsider’ tag. He had by then fallen out with the French and British navies and their business interests in the city, and by 1847, the tide was turning against Montevideo. Garibaldi was disillusioned by the endless politicking and induced to return to Europe in 1848 by the arrival of an initially liberal Pope Pius lX, the urgings of Mazzini and an appeal by King Carlo Alberto of Sardinia and Piedmont, who had himself earlier sentenced Garibaldi to death.

Returning to Italy

In the year of European revolutions, the pope fled Rome and a short-lived Roman republic was declared in 1849, but the city was retaken by the Bourbons under Louis Napoleon. Making common cause with Cavour, Mazzini and King Victor Emmanuel but feeling frustrated, Garibaldi worked in a candle factory in New York in 1850 and then went back to the sea from 1852-54.

The Italian peninsula was at the time controlled by eight different states including the Papal States. The idea of a unified Italy may now seem obvious but the notion had to be sold to those who had lived for hundreds of years in separate states with their own laws and dialects and deeply embedded with conservative Catholicism. Garibaldi’s main contribution to unification was with his Thousand Redshirt followers with whom the liberation of Sicily and Naples from the Bourbons was achieved in 1860. This was the apogee of Garibaldi’s reputation and Rome became the capital of Italy in 1871.

Bizarrely, as evidence of Garibaldi’s opportunism, he offered to fight for Bismarck’s Prussia against France in 1870 but then allied with France along with his two sons Menotti and Riciotti for his final campaign. He found himself increasingly at odds with erstwhile allies Cavour, Mazzini and Victor Emmanuel and retreated to Caprera off Sardinia from 1871 to 1882. Elected to seven parliaments, he rarely attended. He married twice more after Anita’s death. Admired by George Sand, Victor Hugo and Alexander Dumas, he was awarded the freedom of the City of London and Abraham Lincoln requested him to fight in the American civil war but he insisted on the status of commander in chief! Later he was invoked as an inspiration for early Indian nationalists against the British Raj.

Garibaldi’s forte was in evoking loyalty, moulding untrained volunteers into an effective army with a ruthless commitment to victory. His forces were invariably outnumbered and his Redshirts more often than not ill-equipped and ill-shod, little more than cannon-fodder. Assembling the aspects of Garibaldi’s complex and often contradictory character, he was poorly educated but a keen reader, an anti-clerical Freemason, brave and fixated on a unified Italy, but also vain, promiscuous, insubordinate, unpredictable and a poor administrator. He detested slavery, but did not see the emancipation of the indigenous people in South America in the same light. A corsair, pirate and soldier of fortune, he was austere, teetotal, living on fruit, bread and cigars.

The Redshirts inspired the later Fascist Blackshirts, and Garibaldi was regarded by some as a person of questionable faith who had taken arms against the pope and had ended the rule of the papal states. It is one of history’s ironies that Garibaldi ‘could have been cut down or shot a thousand times’ but died of natural causes. Had he not returned to Italy and played a role in the Risorgimento, he could never have been described as ‘a hero of two worlds’ but been at best a footnote in the multiple brutal conflicts in the making of states in South America in the 19th century. In fact, of the couple, the combative Anita is remembered more in Brazil, and Garibaldi in Uruguay.

Popular print showing Garibaldi wearing uniforms of 1848, 1859 and 1860 wars. Photo: Unknown author/Wikimedia Commons, Public Domain

In a learned and informative final chapter of summation, Bourne states that ‘while adventure and reward could be factors, idealism was the strongest motivation’. Garibaldi’s career is an important reminder of the historic links between Europe and South America, so different from the European migration to North America in the same century.

Krishnan Srinivasan is a former foreign secretary