The 14th Dalai Lama, also called Tenzing Gyatso, is likely to meet Prime Minister Manmohan Singh this week, keeping up his tradition of getting to know India’s senior leadership ever since he fled from Lhasa 45 years ago. Ironically, this is also the exact week when India and China signed the Panchsheel agreement 50 years ago, as a preamble to which New Delhi agreed to sign away the trading and other privileges it had inherited in Tibet from the British. Last year, when the BJP government of A B Vajpayee accepted in Beijing that the Tibetan Autonomous Region was an integral part of the PRC, it was not only arriving at the logical conclusion that Nehru and Zhou-en Lai had arrived at 50 years ago, but also removed the illusion of India’s special relationship with Tibet that has persisted since. The Dalai Lama had met Vajpayee once as PM, in the month of the nuclear tests in May 1998—another irony, perhaps even a message to China—and his senior officials before last year’s visit to Beijing. And yet, India does have a special relationship with Tibet. It exists, at least in memory, both as dream and nightmare, in mythology, in religion, culture—and best of all, in the shelter that India still offers thousands of Tibetans who escape the hardship of their land year after year, every year. It’s an unescapable fact, commonly testified to in Dharamsala and in the border towns of Arunachal Pradesh. Pak, via China? Khokhar’s no Since Pakistan and China describe themselves as ‘‘all-weather friends’’, a friendship that’s higher than the mountains and deeper than the seas, New Delhi thought it might be a good idea to propose, at the recent Foreign Secretary-level talks, that the Sino-Indian agreement on ‘‘peace and tranquillity on the Line of Actual Control’’ be used as an example of something Islamabad and New Delhi could have on the Line of Control. No way, said Riaz Khokhar—who also wanted to visit the Golden Temple in Amritsar and Agra during his visit, until the sacking of his own PM summoned him right back. Undeterred, New Delhi has now invited Dai Bingguo, the Special Representative on the boundary talks with National Security Adviser J N Dixit, for the third round of talks likely on July 26-27. This key round is likely to put into place the framework for a possible boundary solution that has defied both nations for the last 40 years. Perhaps the general expression of solidarity and friendship manifested during the 50th anniversary of Panchsheel will come in handy. Natwar Singh’s meetings in Beijing and the many exchanges between the two leaderships clearly indicate that China is the flavour of the season. Even Foreign Secretary-designate Shyam Saran is a China hand. Paradise lost, India forgotten If India can get over its obsession with Pakistan, it might notice that there’s a little island nation just over there in the Arabian Sea called the Maldives, with a permanent hotline to Paradise. Only, President Abdul Gayoom has ruled his tiny fief with his tiny fists for 25 long years, brooking no dissent or disruption. No political parties are allowed to function, the few independent-minded journalists have fled to Sri Lanka and most of the elite is either compromised or beholden to Gayoom. Interestingly, he should be beholden to India—in late 1988, then PM Rajiv Gandhi had sent 1,500 troops to Maldives after Gayoom appealed for help to suppress a local resistance allegedly organised with the help of Sri Lankan mercenaries linked to the Tamil group called PLOTE. Instead, the Maldivian dictator’s extended family and friends have been known to publicly grumble about the ‘‘messy democracy’’ inspired by India’s political pluralism next door. At a national meeting in Male on June 9, summoned by Gayoom to ‘‘perfect’’ a Constitution that he has manipulated to serve himself, warnings about emulating India’s example were loudly made. Meanwhile, the local Indira Gandhi Memorial Hospital routinely treats people who have been tortured, flogged, kept in solitary confinement etc by Gayoom’s loyal police. Most Maldivians are only looking for reasonable expressions of freedom, but of course Gayoom wants total control. Jennifer, the daughter of the leader of the Maldivian Democratic Party—banned in the Maldives, of course, so it operates out of Colombo—was simply thrown into solitary confinement because she participated in a protest march against police brutality following the infamous prison riots in September 2003. And so it goes. Will New Delhi figure out what’s going on its sleepy, little neighbourhood?
