In today’s column, I shall share some lighter moments of my diplomatic life.
ONE: To mark the first anniversary of their landing on the moon on July 20, 1969, Messrs Armstrong and Aldrin undertook a world tour. One of their important stops was New Delhi, to meet Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and present her a fragment of the moon rock.
The meeting took place in the Prime Minister’s Office in the Parliament House. I conducted the two lunar heroes to her room. The US ambassador was also present.
The Prime Minister, if she was meeting someone she did not personally know, was amiable but distant. After the photographers departed, there was an awkward silence. She looked at me. Signal for me to speak up. “Mr Armstrong, you will be interested to know that the Prime Minister kept awake till 4 am, so as not to miss the exact time of your lunar landing.”
Neil Armstrong rose to the occasion. “I apologise for the inconvenience we caused you Madame Prime Minister. Next time, I shall make sure that we land on the moon at a less unearthly hour”.
TWO: Every organisation, institution, service has, what are called, “characters”. These precious individuals are endowed with a certain benign temperamental quirkiness. They add fun to life and make it less menacing.
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One such gem belonged to the IFS. Narayan Vinayak Agate was born on July 21, 1924. He got an emergency commission in the British Indian Army in 1943. He was inducted into the IFS in March 1947. He thus belonged to the first batch of the IFS. Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru was the vice-president of the Interim government, incharge of External and Commonwealth Affairs. In that capacity he interviewed the 1947 batch. Tony (as Agate was popularly known) was asked, “Mr Agate, what is your ambition?” Tony replied, “To sit in your chair, sir”. Pandit Nehru was forgiving of this cheekiness. Tony joined the newly-formed IFS.
During the war, Tony had received a serious head wound. As he grew older, his behaviour became erratic. He did brief spells in Lahore, Tokyo, Cairo and Berne, but was posted at head quarters from November 1953.
I came into daily contact with him when he was deputy secretary in the administrative division. I was under secretary. The section officer put in an application for leave. The paper came to me. I approved and sent it to Tony for his clearance. Two days later, the leave application was back on my desk. Tony had noted: LBW. I was completely at sea. I walked to the deputy secretary’s room. Asked Tony what a cricketing term had to do with a leave application.
“What kind of an asinine fellow are you? Who selected you for the IFS?” One was used to such harmless and malice-free outbursts. “Tony, you haven’t told me what the letters LBW are doing on this leave application?”
Tony’s reply: “LBW means, Let the Bugger Wait.” Then he gave me another harmless dressing down — “How did a dimwit like you make it to the IFS? You don’t even know what LBW stands for.” I conceded defeat and so did the leave applicant.
THREE: Soon after my arrival in Lusaka in August 1977, a “national” football team from India arrived. The Zambians, like most Africans, take football more than seriously. For the India-Zambia match, the large Lusaka football stadium was overflowing. Zambian President Kenneth Kaunda and most of his Cabinet were present. They had no choice. Absence would have amounted to committing soccer hara-kiri.
I was seated not far from the Zambian political glitterati. The Zambian team was quite obviously in good form. The huge crowd was knowledgeable about the finer points of the game. From the very beginning, it was evident that the Indian team was unlikely to get the better of the Zambians, who were fitter and charged up. Our team obviously did not know that Lusaka was almost 4,000 feet above sea level. That too was an important factor. The team should have spent at least three to four days to get acclimatised. It did not. This gave the Zambians a natural advantage.
We lost. Zambia at the time had a population of eight million. India, nearly 700 million. More than the population of the whole of the continent of Africa.
The same evening, the Zambian Football Association held a reception for the two teams. The Zambian team was on cloud nine. I thought I would add a little humour in my speech. I said, Indians were model guests and could not possibly defeat their hosts. Mild applause. The president of the Zambian Football Association (I forget his name) rose to the occasion. In his forthright response, he said, the Zambians too were very generous hosts. “We did our best to lose to elder brother India. I am sorry we did not succeed.” Touché.