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Silence of the Hawks

The sheer childishness of it all is a wonder to me. Two grown men -- they know each other and have undoubtedly spoken numerous times -- find themselves on the same long flight, sitting a few feet apart. Both know the other is there. But they don't exchange a word, even pretend not to have noticed each other. This happens not once, but twice in the space of a few days, the second time with another pair of grown men on another long flight.

Now these are more than just your everyday men; they are senior leaders in their respective countries. Yet their behaviour must cause onlookers to ask: Are these adults or overgrown children? Ministers or playground runabouts? Statesmen or half-men?

The first pair was Jaswant Singh and Abdul Sattar, foreign ministers of India and Pakistan respectively. Heading for the recent meeting of the Non-Aligned Movement, they took the same flight last Saturday from Miami to Cartagena, Colombia. Sattar was already seated in the plane as it waited at the gate in Miami. Singh arrived late and hurried on board. Reports tell us that he "studiously" avoided eye contact with his Pakistani counterpart as he made his way down the aisle to his seat three rows behind. For the several hours to Cartagena, they sat just like that. "The deep freeze in Indo-Pak ties," PTI reported, "was evident" on that flight.

The second pair was General Perveiz Musharraf and India's Human Resources Development Minister, Murli Manohar Joshi. They took the same flight to Havana for a meeting of 77 developing countries. Joshi followed the example Singh had set. Edged his way past the general. Sat in silence the rest of the trip. Was whisked away on arrival in Havana, separately from the general.

Here's the fruit of hostility between India and Pakistan: Childish pettiness from our most senior leaders.

Now I met several Pakistanis last week. Some of them, I had met before. Curiously, we didn't turn up our noses at each other. We didn't look "studiously" past each other. We didn't maintain haughty silences. No, we sat down, chugged a beer or two together, talked. I say this with no particular desire to show off. Nor do I feel ashamed of our familiarity. It just happened that way, is all. We behaved just as anyone -- you and I, for example -- might at a gathering. Some small talk, some gossip, some arguments, even heated ones. Normal stuff from normal people.

But apparently when you get to be a minister in our part of the world, you can't be normal any more. You have to play-act a kiddie way through life.

I can see it already. Here in an India Today article by Swapan Dasgupta I'm looking at, for example. Those Pakistanis I mentioned, and those of us who met them, are all soft, goody-goody "leftists" and "peaceniks", thus to be dismissed. We "bleeding-hearts" are entirely out of touch with reality. Meanwhile, it's the "hawks" who have a monopoly on a true understanding of the realpolitik of Indo-Pak relations. Peace between our countries will come not from the naivete of the "peaceniks", but via the hard-nosed realism of the "hawks."

All very well. Except when hawks play their games on international flights, you have to wonder who's truly out of touch with reality. Us, doing what comes naturally? Or the hawks, with their silly playschool play-acting? When 60-year-old men behave like five-year-olds, are they being hard-nosed?

Of course, Jaswant Singh went on to win India a "major diplomatic triumph" in Cartagena. He persuaded NAM that military-ruled states should be debarred from membership. Though a final decision will be taken only next year, Singh made the case that NAM should take a "principled stand" against "countries which subverted democratic principles." (Apart from anything else, let's remember that this is the same NAM that once had Castro's Cuba as its chair. That watched Cuba try to introduce a resolution saying the Soviet Union was the "natural ally" of the NAM. In NAM-space, principles mean little).

He spoke easily of a "principled stand", but Master Singh really only wanted to make digs at Pakistan. That phrase he used, "countries which subverted democratic principles," is mere code for "Pakistan". As Seema Guha points out in the Times of India, "The purpose of the entire exercise was not so much respect for democracy as to nail ... Musharraf. If democracy was the hallmark, India could have been just as cool towards its eastern neighbour, Myanmar. Yet New Delhi, in its eagerness to woo the military junta in Myanmar, has steadily ignored the cause of the democratic movement [there]."

Or, the only reason Master J Singh went to this NAM meeting was to find ways to embarrass Pakistan. These days, it seems that's the only reason any of our Ministers go to any international meeting. But oddly enough, Master Singh was in excellent company as he went about his embarrassing endeavours. Master A Sattar was busy finding ways to embarrass India, chiefly by what, in Indian circles, is always described as "raking up the Kashmir issue."

They did not care to speak to each other, these two overgrown kids, but they worked overtime trying to score brownie points off each other. More delicious fruit of the hostility between India and Pakistan.

Meanwhile, we leftist bleeding-heart Indian and Pakistani peaceniks spent most of a day together in Mumbai. Three memories from that day, if I may.

One: We had a small squad of policemen with us, to ward off any hawk-inspired hostility. One cop stood with our one-woman reception committee near the immigration counter at the airport, watching the Pakistanis emerge. "Arre," he whispered to her wonderingly, "these fellows look just like us!"

It should be no surprise, but the tragedy is that it is -- that people from across the border do look just like us. What the cop said is certainly a cliche, but it bears being repeated. Over and over, if it helps break down stupidity.

Two: When we rounded up everybody after lunch to head for Juhu Beach, two of the Pakistanis were missing. Consternation for a while. Then we remembered the five Mumbai constables sitting outside. A couple of hours earlier, the missing pair had been seen talking to them. Now, we rushed out to check.

The two were still there, chatting with the havaldars like old chums. Smiles and handshakes as they reluctantly parted company.

Three: At Juhu Beach, the Pakistanis traipsed off in all directions. Some took rides, some munched coconuts and corn, some ran down to the water's edge to wade in the waves. Within seconds, not one was visible among the crowd on the beach. Until I saw three, some distance away. They were surrounded by several unknown locals and the whole group was caught up in an animated discussion. My heart skipped a beat. After all, in the climate our hard-nosed hawks and sawdust supremos have built up, especially in Mumbai, who knows what might happen to a few Pakistanis left to themselves on a crowded beach?

I needn't have worried. Suddenly, they were all exchanging hugs. Try that on for size, you silly little hawks.

Dilip D'Souza