A tiff with Morarjibhai Desai
When Desai saw the discretionary grant register, he pronounced, ‘Indira used to send Natwar Singh foreign currency by the diplomatic bag to promote the Emergency in England.’ He had not the foggiest idea how diplomatic bags were handled.
Morarjibhai Desai was born in 1896. He died in 1995 at the age of 99. Unlike Jawaharlal Nehru, he did not have a flying start in life. He qualified for the Provincial Civil Service in 1918, resigning to join the Congress. He spent several years in jail during the freedom movement.
He was not a complex individual. Never minced words. Lacked a sense of humour and a warm heart. He possessed excessive self-assurance—I am never wrong. He had no sense of history. Lacked vision.
There was a positive side too. He was incorruptible, a competent administrator, practised genuine austerity. He, probably, had never heard the French word, sangfroid, but he was endowed with it. He knew the Gita by heart. He did not conceal his fondness for fountain pens and watches.
In April 1960, Prime Minister Chou-En-Lai (I am using the spelling then in use) came to New Delhi to discuss with Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru the Sino-Indian border problem. I was attached to the Chinese Prime Minister as liaison officer. R.N. Kao, who later became the first head of RAW, was the security officer.
During their parleys, Nehru informed Chou-En-Lai, that two or three senior members of his Cabinet would call on him. Chou-EnLai insisted that he would call on them. He was totally disregarding protocol. He had his way.
His first called on Finance Minister Morarji Desai. Apart from G. Parthasarthi, our Ambassador to China, Jagat Mehta, Joint Secretary dealing with China, our brilliant interpreter V.V. Pranjpay and myself represented the Indian side to assist the Finance Minister. Chou-EnLai brought Foreign Minister Marshal Chen Yi with him.
The meeting was a disaster. As soon as the Prime Minister and Foreign Ministers sat down, Desai said, “You are spying in Kalimpong.” This was not diplomacy. It was an outrageous insult. Chou-EnLai was aghast. By the end of the meeting the Chinese Prime Minister had lost his cool, saying to Desai, “You have said enough.” To our horror, the Finance Minister’s response was, “You have said more than enough.”
In his autobiography Morarji Desai omitted to mention his boorish behaviour.
Prime Minister Morarji Desai came to London in June 1977 to attend the meeting of Commonwealth Presidents and Prime Ministers. The High Commissioner, B.K. Nehru, a second cousin of Indira Gandhi, had some weeks back invited the Prime Minister as his house guest.
By then I had been asked to proceed on leave. A couple of days later, B.K. Nehru telephoned to tell me that I had given a champagne party at India House to celebrate the declaration of the Emergency. I reminded him that on that date we were in his office trying to ward off the media. I added, “Bijju Bhai, are you sure you did not hold the champagne party?” He laughed.
The next day he called again. “The Prime Minister wants to see the discretionary grant register. How much of the sanctioned amount did we spend?” I said of the £ 5,000 sanctioned, only £500 had been used. When the Prime Minister saw the register, he pronounced, “This is not true. Indira used to send Natwar Singh foreign currency by the diplomatic bag to promote the Emergency in England.” This was incredible. Desai had not the foggiest idea how diplomatic bags were handled. In London these arrived twice a week. They were opened in the presence of a first secretary and three assistants. No currency was ever found.
More unpleasantness was in store for me. I was transferred to Zambia in August 1977. This was a blessing in disguise. Lusaka has a superb climate. Politically it was the hub of Southern Africa. Leaders of freedom movements from Southern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe), North West Africa (Namibia) and South Africa had taken refuge in Lusaka. Above all, I knew President Kenneth Kaunda well. He wrote to Prime Minister Desai in very generous terms about me. Desai’s reply was dry as dust: “I hope Natwar Singh comes up to your expectations…” An acrimonious exchange of letters followed. It was not the wisest thing for a grade three head of mission to take on the Prime Minister. Defiance is a part of my character. This landed me in trouble from time to time.
Towards the end of 1978, President Kaunda decided to send a high powered delegation to India headed by his Prime Minister, which included several senior Cabinet ministers. It had been the practice for the heads of mission to arrive in New Delhi before Presidential and Prime Ministerial visits. An exception was made in my case. Nevertheless, I arrived in Delhi with the delegation. This was grave insubordination. I was asked to see the Prime Minister the next day at 1 Safdarjung Road at 8 am. Desai’s opening words were, “Aap begair bulaye aagaye (You have come without being asked to)”. I told him that my not coming would have been taken as an insult to the friendly President and the people of Zambia. Also, it would show that the High Commissioner did not have the confidence of his government.
He was silent for a moment or two, then said, “Why are you encouraging that terrorist Nkomo?” I was appalled, “Sir, he is not a terrorist, he is fighting for the freedom of his people. He was exiled to the remotest and inhospitable part of his country for ten years. We have been helping him.” The Prime Minister changed gear: “I have been reading your reports from Lusaka. They are not good.” “Sir, you must be the only person in South Block to read my despatches. No one else looks at them. May I ask, what is wrong with them?” “They are too pro-Zambian.” This was mind- boggling. I said, “I was in Zambia to strengthen, deepen and broaden our bilateral relations. President Kaunda was a Gandhian. Why should I send anti-Zambia reports?” Response: “He is financing terrorists.” I kept quiet.
In June 1979, the Commonwealth Summit was to be held in Lusaka. Morarji Desai was to lead our delegation. Fortunately, his government fell a few days earlier.
I still have document headed, “The Dietary Preferences of the Prime Minister.” It arrived weeks before the conference was to start.