America is very far away, and until the discovery of flight, we rarely met. Swami Vivekananda was one of the first, visiting by boat in 1893, which is one more reason to admire him. Mark Twain came in 1896, as part of a world tour he made to settle his debts. He collected around Rs 2,600 per night, doing shows at the Novelty Theatre in Bombay. He was sympathetic to India. So was President Roosevelt, who pushed hard for independence during World War II, but stopped when Churchill threatened to hold his breath.
Our prime ministers started visiting the US early on in our history. Nehru visited in 1949, leaving the women misty-eyed, but President Truman unimpressed. During a banquet at the White House, he and his Chief Justice mostly discussed whisky. It was during this visit that Indira Gandhi, accompanying her father, formed her first impression of America, and realised that her right profile was better than her left profile. The visit was a flop. Nehru was too proud to beg for aid, and too aristocratic to talk to businessmen, so he came back with nothing. No agreements were signed, and no business deals were made. MN Roy described his trip as an attempt to “increase his popularity with the vocal middle class at home by appealing to nationalist conceit”. This was long ago, so things were very different.
The situation improved slightly in the sixties. The US provided over $ 2 billion worth of aid, double what the Russians gave. Nehru was too tired to talk to Kennedy, or flirt with his wife, during his visit in 1961. Kennedy forgave him, and sailed an aircraft carrier into the Bay of Bengal during the 1962 war. Had he not done so, people in Assam would probably be speaking Chinese today.
A bitch and a witch
Then Indira Gandhi visited in 1971. Nixon and she did not get on well. She lectured him like a schoolboy. Nixon later referred to her as “that goddam woman” and “a bitch and a witch”. Being a diplomat, Kissinger only referred to her as a bitch. Shortly afterwards, the US declared full support for Pakistan in the Indo-Pak war, and sailed an aircraft carrier into the Bay of Bengal, this time to threaten us. We then became part of the Soviet bloc, thereby ensuring that we would have a lifelong supply of defective weapons.
The truth is, Indian prime ministers and American presidents have never gotten along. George W. Bush was the only exception. He loved Manmohan Singh without reservation. When you look at their pictures, you can see the love in his eyes. While it's hard to tell anything with MMS, in most of them, he looks mildly pleased. This upset Prakash Karat so much that he destroyed the CPI (M).
Why have our relations been so poor, even though we repeat the phrase “natural allies” three to four times a week? It's because our PM selection was wrong. In early twentieth century America, religious conservatives and economic liberals joined hands and evolved modern conservatism, a strange cocktail of Bible bashing and profit stashing. This means that every US president since then has had to hug businessmen, pose with flags, and go to church every Sunday. Black or white, left or right, they have to follow these rules. A socialist or a Sikh has as much chance of being US president as Lady Gaga.
It’s our own fault
Our own choices show no such consistency. We’ve had godless commies with English accents, like Nehru, and worshippers of foreign goddesses, like Manmohan Singh. Vajpayee rarely prayed, and spoke in mysterious couplets. Even an atheist like Jyoti Basu almost got a chance to turn India into West Bengal. There was a brief ray of hope in the ’70s, when the US had Jimmy Carter, a peanut farmer, and we had Morarji Desai, a pee nut. But he banned Coca Cola, which was a terrible mistake. Coca Cola had him replaced by Indira Gandhi soon after.
Now, finally, with Modi, we’ve got it right. He’s the perfect candidate for success in America. Like Nixon, he keeps tabs on everyone. Like Reagan, he’s a Great Communicator. Like Clinton, he plays musical instruments. Most crucially, he supports business, but he also fasts for Navratra. Americans understand this mixture better than they ever understood Hindi poets, urine therapists, and scary women with Soviet friends. America and India are now like Amar Akbar Anthony without Akbar. We are brothers separated at birth, finally reuniting. Much love will be in the air.
Poor Akbar may be a little worried, but just like the movie, which you must see if you haven’t, I believe that everything will work out fine in the end.
We welcome your comments at
letters@scroll.in.
Our prime ministers started visiting the US early on in our history. Nehru visited in 1949, leaving the women misty-eyed, but President Truman unimpressed. During a banquet at the White House, he and his Chief Justice mostly discussed whisky. It was during this visit that Indira Gandhi, accompanying her father, formed her first impression of America, and realised that her right profile was better than her left profile. The visit was a flop. Nehru was too proud to beg for aid, and too aristocratic to talk to businessmen, so he came back with nothing. No agreements were signed, and no business deals were made. MN Roy described his trip as an attempt to “increase his popularity with the vocal middle class at home by appealing to nationalist conceit”. This was long ago, so things were very different.
The situation improved slightly in the sixties. The US provided over $ 2 billion worth of aid, double what the Russians gave. Nehru was too tired to talk to Kennedy, or flirt with his wife, during his visit in 1961. Kennedy forgave him, and sailed an aircraft carrier into the Bay of Bengal during the 1962 war. Had he not done so, people in Assam would probably be speaking Chinese today.
A bitch and a witch
Then Indira Gandhi visited in 1971. Nixon and she did not get on well. She lectured him like a schoolboy. Nixon later referred to her as “that goddam woman” and “a bitch and a witch”. Being a diplomat, Kissinger only referred to her as a bitch. Shortly afterwards, the US declared full support for Pakistan in the Indo-Pak war, and sailed an aircraft carrier into the Bay of Bengal, this time to threaten us. We then became part of the Soviet bloc, thereby ensuring that we would have a lifelong supply of defective weapons.
The truth is, Indian prime ministers and American presidents have never gotten along. George W. Bush was the only exception. He loved Manmohan Singh without reservation. When you look at their pictures, you can see the love in his eyes. While it's hard to tell anything with MMS, in most of them, he looks mildly pleased. This upset Prakash Karat so much that he destroyed the CPI (M).
Why have our relations been so poor, even though we repeat the phrase “natural allies” three to four times a week? It's because our PM selection was wrong. In early twentieth century America, religious conservatives and economic liberals joined hands and evolved modern conservatism, a strange cocktail of Bible bashing and profit stashing. This means that every US president since then has had to hug businessmen, pose with flags, and go to church every Sunday. Black or white, left or right, they have to follow these rules. A socialist or a Sikh has as much chance of being US president as Lady Gaga.
It’s our own fault
Our own choices show no such consistency. We’ve had godless commies with English accents, like Nehru, and worshippers of foreign goddesses, like Manmohan Singh. Vajpayee rarely prayed, and spoke in mysterious couplets. Even an atheist like Jyoti Basu almost got a chance to turn India into West Bengal. There was a brief ray of hope in the ’70s, when the US had Jimmy Carter, a peanut farmer, and we had Morarji Desai, a pee nut. But he banned Coca Cola, which was a terrible mistake. Coca Cola had him replaced by Indira Gandhi soon after.
Now, finally, with Modi, we’ve got it right. He’s the perfect candidate for success in America. Like Nixon, he keeps tabs on everyone. Like Reagan, he’s a Great Communicator. Like Clinton, he plays musical instruments. Most crucially, he supports business, but he also fasts for Navratra. Americans understand this mixture better than they ever understood Hindi poets, urine therapists, and scary women with Soviet friends. America and India are now like Amar Akbar Anthony without Akbar. We are brothers separated at birth, finally reuniting. Much love will be in the air.
Poor Akbar may be a little worried, but just like the movie, which you must see if you haven’t, I believe that everything will work out fine in the end.
