India-40 and the Circle of Demons

On an early spring day in 1966, Prime Minister Indira Gandhi is ushered into the White House Oval Office with Mahendra Singh, her Chief of Protocol, Krishna Rao, Government of India’s Ambassador to the United States, and Mrs. Gandhi’s Chief Aid, Horace Tata. They are welcomed by Angus Lockwood, Assistant Undersecretary of State for India, then greeted warmly by Chester Bowles, America’s ambassador to India. A moment later, Lyndon Johnson enters through a well-polished oak side door. “Madame Prime Minister,” says the President extending his hand, “it is a great pleasure to see you here and to welcome you to the White House.” “The pleasure is mine, Mr. President,” she says, trying to let go of his hand, “and I look forward to your own visit to New Delhi soon.” A waiter in a starched white tunic and perfectly creased black pants rolls in a cart with drinks. Glasses, an ice bucket, soft drinks, and a row of whiskey, gin, and vodka bottles. The waiter sets the cart’s brake. Tata brings Mrs. Gandhi a Schweppes tonic over ice and Lockwood pours a bourbon and branch water for the President. “To eternal and undying friendship between our two great democracies - India and the United States,” says Ambassador Bowles. “…and to our new friendship agreement!” adds Ambassador Rao. Glasses are raised, clinked, then sipped. The President and Prime Minister settle into armchairs, the others sit on couches to either side. “Mr. President, we have a number of matters to discuss so let me enumerate the first. My Parliament is most grateful for the release of wheat authorized by your Congress under Public Law 480. We have urgencies on this matter. We have pockets of starvation in Bihar, drought in Rajasthan, predictions for a failing monsoon across the south, and there is fear of a major famine and growing unrest over food security.” “We stand ready to help in every way,” says President Johnson. “… and we are most appreciative,” the Prime Minister continues. “However, we also have concerns about your insistence that large numbers of Agency for International Development workers and Peace Corps Volunteers should be stationed in our country. You have asked us to take these people as an implied condition of the wheat arrangement. We are simply not able to accommodate and administer the 2,000 Americans you want us to place.” “Mrs. Gandhi – may I call you Indira and can I speak plainly?” “Of course,” the Prime Minister says, frowning at the presumption. “Indira, we have great concerns about the nuclear buildup taking place on the subcontinent, your country and Pakistan to be specific. We also understand and share the need to be vigilant. The American people are fearful of what the Commies, excuse me, the Communists are doing inside your country, in Kashmir where you have fought with the Pakistanis, along your border with China, in Ceylon with their developing Tamil insurgency, and with the growing number of Maoist political parties in your country and Nepal. As you know, 150,000 of our boys are fighting in Vietnam…” “India has provided you refueling access at our Indian Ocean bases Mr. President,” Gandhi interrupts. “… and we are thankful to you for that, Indira, but we also think the best way to counter Communism in your country and the rest of South Asia is to win the hearts and minds of ordinary people person by person. Our aid workers are the real front line for us. We would like every one of our USAID specialists and Peace Corps Volunteers to coordinate closely with an Indian counterpart and to work under local supervision. This will not cost you anything but a bit of coordination as partners in their connection to some of your development offices. In fact, their presence brings foreign exchange into your country.” “Mr. President,” Gandhi replies, “we are grateful, as always, but you are forcing workers on us that we don’t want or need. We have three million doctors, engineers, scientists, and teachers who are unemployed or working at menial jobs. We need massive amounts of food, tools, machinery, equipment, and most of all, low cost financing for roads, bridges, dams, and water systems. Those are our real needs, Mr. President, not more Peace Corps people fresh out of college.” “Indira,” says a frowning President in his gravest voice, “Ladybird and I are looking forward to our visit to New Delhi and I wonder if you might arrange for us to visit one or two of those AID and Peace Corps workers.” “Of course,” she says, clearly unhappy with Johnson’s response, “but let me ask you this. We want better access to your colleges and universities. Will you provide us with twenty-five thousand student visas over the next five years?” “I was thinking more like eight thousand,” Johnson replies, a smile wide as Texas. And I would like India’s support on our proposed U.N. resolution sanctioning North Vietnam.” “That is not nearly enough but we might be able to consider twenty thousand.” “The best we can do,” said the President, “is ten thousand.” Mrs. Gandhi, stiff and formal, says, “Then that is what we shall do. Now, let us talk about Kashmir, China, and the Naxal rebellion, a more difficult situation for us and a source of great instability in the region. The United States should be helping us in several ways.” One hour later, the President and Prime Minister speak briefly to an assembled cadre of American and Indian reporters in the Rose Garden, shake hands, reaffirm their undying friendship, and the entourage from India departs. Back in the Oval Office, Johnson turns to Lockwood, one of his oldest friends and a grizzled veteran of early political wars in Texas. “You know Angus, when I negotiate with people I like to have one of their nuts in my pocket just to help things along. That’s a little harder with a broad like Indira.” Lockwood, with his undergraduate degree in history and a law degree from the University of Texas, says to Johnson, “Remember what Lenin said, ‘Trust is good, control is better.’”