The Sino-Indian War of 1962: New Perspectives 1138693200, 9781138693203

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The Sino-Indian War of 1962

The Sino-Indian border war of 1962 forms a major landmark in South Asian, Asian and Cold War history. Among others, it resulted in an unresolved conflict permanently hindering rapprochement between China and India, the establishment of the Sino-Pakistani axis, the deepening of the Sino-Soviet split and had a lasting impact on Indian domestic affairs. This volume draws on new documentary evidence to re-evaluate perceptions, motivations and decision-making processes of both antagonists, but also of third powers immediately affected by the conflict. It also investigates the effect on India’s internal politics, its Constitution, the Communist Party of India and the fate of Indians of Chinese origin. Finally, it analyses how the conflict is viewed in India today and its ramifications for India–China relationship. A major intervention in the Asian historical landscape, this book will be indispensable to scholars and researchers of modern history, especially of modern South Asia and China, international relations, defence and strategic studies, international politics and government. It will also be useful for think-tanks and government agencies. Amit R. Das Gupta is Senior Researcher at the Universität der Bundeswehr München, Germany. Previously he was affiliated with the German Institute of the University of Amsterdam, the Institute for Contemporary History, Department Berlin, Foreign Office and Jacobs University Bremen. After a first book on West Germany’s South Asia policy between 1949 and 1966, he has authored a political biography of Foreign Secretary Subimal Dutt. Currently, he is writing a monograph on the impact of officers of the Indian Civil Services on Indian foreign policy after independence. Lorenz M. Lüthi is Associate Professor of History of International Relations at McGill University, Canada. His first book dealt with the Sino-Soviet Split and has been translated into Polish and Chinese. He has written on China, ­Vietnam, non-alignment, Germany and the socialist world during the Cold War. At present, he is working on an international history of the Cold Wars in Asia, the Middle East and Europe.

‘This book is an essential contribution to discussions on the India–China war of 1962, its origins and its aftermath. In twelve chapters and a comprehensive introduction, the editors have put together studies that answer most of the remaining questions about the conflict, put to rest many controversies, and shed light on the existing obstacles to better relations between Asia’s two largest countries and emerging world powers. This volume will be mandatory reading for politicians, historians and researchers in all the countries covered by the book.’ Krishnan Srinivasan, Former Indian Foreign Secretary, Government of India ‘This excellent and timely volume revisits the Sino-Indian war of 1962 – a brief but immensely consequential conflict. Dasgupta and Luthi have brought together a group of fine scholars to examine afresh the causes and consequences of the conflict. The volume is particularly noteworthy for its attempt to situate the Sino-Indian war against a wider international backdrop of the Cold War and decolonisation. This book will be indispensable for scholars and general readers alike.’ Srinath Raghavan, Senior Fellow, Centre for Policy Studies, New Delhi, India ‘This important collection of original essays sheds fresh light on the origins, course, and consequences of one of the Cold War era’s seminal – and yet most understudied – conflicts. The authors demonstrate the great value of history written from a truly international, multi-archival perspective. Highly recommended for all students of China, India, and, more broadly, the post-1945 world order.’ Robert J. McMahon, Ralph Mershon Professor of History, Ohio State University, USA

The Sino-Indian War of 1962 New perspectives

Edited by Amit R. Das Gupta and Lorenz M. Lüthi

First published 2017 by Routledge 2 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 711 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10017 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2017 selection and editorial matter, Amit R. Das Gupta and Lorenz M. Lüthi; individual chapters, the contributors The right of Amit R. Das Gupta and Lorenz M. Lüthi to be identified as the authors of the editorial material, and of the authors for their individual chapters, has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. The international boundaries, coastlines, denominations, and other information shown in any map in this work do not necessarily imply any judgment concerning the legal status of any territory or the endorsement or acceptance of such information. For current boundaries, readers may refer to the Survey of India maps. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing in Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging in Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-1-138-69320-3 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-315-38894-6 (ebk) Typeset in Galliard by Apex CoVantage, LLC

Contents

List of mapsvii Acknowledgementsviii Notes on contributorsix

Introduction

1

LORENZ M. LÜTHI AND AMIT R. DAS GUPTA

PART 1

Bilateral perspectives27   1 India’s relations with China, 1945–74

29

LORENZ M. LÜTHI

  2 Foreign Secretary Subimal Dutt and the prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war

48

AMIT R. DAS GUPTA

  3 From ‘Hindi-Chini Bhai-Bhai’ to ‘international class struggle’ against Nehru: China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62

68

DAI CHAOWU

  4 The strategic and regional contexts of the Sino-Indian border conflict: China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 85 ERIC HYER

vi  Contents PART 2

International perspectives103   5 The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war

105

PAUL MCGARR

  6 Pakistan and 1962

124

AMIT R. DAS GUPTA

  7 The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962

142

ANDREAS HILGER

  8 Saving non-alignment: diplomatic efforts of major nonaligned countries and the Sino-Indian border conflict

160

JOVAN Cˇ AVOŠKI

PART 3

Domestic perspectives179   9 Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency: institutional re-alignments

181

IMTIAZ OMAR

10 Manufacturing radicals: the Sino-Indian War and the repression of communists in India

197

SUBHO BASU

11 The Chinese in India: internment, nationalism, and the embodied imprints of state action

215

PAYAL BANERJEE

12 Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on

233

JABIN T. JACOB

Index253

Maps

1  Ladakh – claim lines, Aksai Chin Road 2 North East Frontier Association (NEFA), with claim lines 3 Ladakh – Chinese claim lines, Indian patrols

4 5 6

All maps are based on Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India, pp. 231, 232 and 265 (Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2010), and are published with the kind permission of Srinath Raghavan and Permanent Black.

Acknowledgements

We would like to express our gratitude to Srinath Raghavan for allowing us to use maps originally published in his book, to Shoma Choudhury for steering the volume through the publication process, to numerous friends and reviewers who have read and commented on parts or the whole manuscript and to the copyeditor and the publishers.

Contributors

Payal Banerjee teaches Sociology at Smith College, USA. Her research includes three projects: Indian IT workers in the United States; Chinese minorities in India’s post-1962 era; and the issue of Green growth and river dams in India’s Northeast. Subho Basu is Associate Professor in the Department of History and Classical Studies, McGill University, Canada. He has widely published on labour history and contemporary Indian politics. ˇ avoški is a researcher at the Institute for Recent History of Serbia Jovan C and holds a PhD in diplomatic history from the School of International Studies, Peking University, People’s Republic of China. Dai Chaowu is Professor of History at East China Normal University. His main research interests are on China’s foreign relations during the Cold War. He has published widely on both Taiwan Strait Crises and Sino-American relations in general. Amit R. Das Gupta is Senior Researcher at the Universitat der Bundeswehr Munchen, Germany. Andreas Hilger specializes in International History in the 19th and 20th centuries. He is private lecturer at Helmut-Schmidt-University, ­Hamburg, and at Heidelberg University, Germany. Eric Hyer is Associate Professor at Brigham Young University, USA, and the author of The Pragmatic Dragon: China’s Grand Strategy and Boundary Settlements (2015). Jabin T. Jacob is Assistant Director and Fellow at the Institute of Chinese Studies, Delhi, India. He is co-editor of two volumes – India’s Foreign Policy: Old Problems, New Challenges (2011) and Military Confidence-Building and India-China Relations: Fighting Distrust (2013).

x  Contributors Lorenz M. Luthi is Associate Professor of History of International Relations at McGill University, Canada. Paul McGarr is Assistant Professor of American History at the University of Nottingham, UK. He is the author of Britain, the United States and the Cold War in South Asia (2013). Imtiaz Omar has authored several books on constitutional and comparative constitutional law. Until recently he taught at the University of New England, Australia.

Introduction Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta

India and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) remember the border war of late 1962 in fundamentally different ways. For India, the defeat has left a trauma that seemingly refuses to heal. It not only revealed a history of diplomatic miscalculations and inadequacies in defence preparedness but also had a major impact on the political system itself. In its wake, the constitution was partially suspended during a multi-year state of emergency, thousands of citizens were interned or jailed without trial on the basis of their political views or ethnic background, and the government embarked on a massive armament campaign. For over half a century, Indian officials from the time as well as scholars in retrospect have controversially discussed the reasons, responsibilities and consequences of the war. Still, the border war of 1962 remains a sensitive issue in India. In comparison, the PRC hardly remembers its quick and overwhelming victory. Most Chinese people do not even know about the short ‘Self-defence–Counterattack War’ that pales in comparison to the three-year-long ‘Support-Korea–Resist-America War’ and the eight-year-long ‘Support-Vietnam–Resist-America War’. Similarly, the Chinese-language memoir and secondary literature is comparatively small and focuses mostly on event history. The Sino-Indian divergence in memory is likely related to the difference of how the two countries perceived each other from the 1940s to the 1960s. For Delhi, Beijing was a major potential partner and rival; for China, India was but one of many neighbours. The current volume moves away from the well-established event and military history of the Sino-Indian War. Originally, the project started as an academic conference with international participants, which was held at the National Archives of India (NAI) in Delhi on the occasion of the war’s 50th anniversary in late 2012. From the beginning, the project focused on the themes and developments that intersected in late 1962. In Part I, two chapters each focus on India’s policy towards the PRC and vice versa since the late 1940s. They collectively reveal the differences between how

2  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta India and the PRC approached each other. Starting in 1949, Delhi grew concerned with the boundary, Chinese policies in Tibet and the potential threat from the Communist neighbour. At the same time, India, particularly its Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, saw the enormous potential for mutually beneficial cooperation on a whole cluster of regional and global issues. In comparison, Beijing approached its relationship with India mostly in a hesitant and indecisive manner – until 1959. War came after the two countries had failed to compromise and thereafter tried to improve their respective positions by military occupation of disputed areas. Part II focuses on the international context. Pakistan – India’s hostile twin and China’s emerging friend – hoped to benefit from India’s defeat in 1962. For the United States, the United Kingdom, the Soviet Union and the non-aligned countries, the war raised questions about India’s future stand in international affairs. In the end, their mutual fear of China resulted in mutually complementary but essentially uncoordinated efforts of political backing for the South Asian giant. Each of them believed that a non-aligned India was in their best, individual interest, though each of them hoped for a recalibrated non-alignment in their respective favour. This again provided India with the opportunity to redefine its position mostly on its own, whatever Indian non-alignment meant after the defeat. Given the almost complete lack of the war’s influence on Chinese domestic and foreign policy, Part III focuses on the conflict’s long-term impact on India – primarily with regard to the constitutional order, the destiny of the Communist Party of India (CPI), the fate of Indian citizens of Chinese descent and today’s collective memory. We are pleased to present a volume that is the result of international collaboration on several levels. The volume’s contributors hail from eight countries on three different continents, namely Bangladesh, China, ­Germany, India, Serbia, Switzerland, the United Kingdom and the United States. Collectively, they used archives in their countries of origin as well as in Australia, the Czech Republic, Canada and Russia. Their evidence comes from published and archival sources in ten different languages: Assamese, Bengali, Chinese, Czech, English, French, German, Hindi, Serbian and Russian. In many cases, they were among the first scholars to access and use archival and published evidence used in their chapters. Working half a century after the war, this group of international scholars also has a greater distance to the events than previous authors, is less emotionally invested and has politically less at stake.

Border issues, 19th century to the 1950s When the PRC was proclaimed on 1 October 1949, it did not have any agreed, let alone demarcated, southern borders. The Himalayas from

Introduction 3 Ladakh over India’s North East Frontier Association (NEFA) to the border triangle with Burma were traditionally considered a nearly insuperable barrier between Asia’s two oldest civilizations, only being crossed by caravans and pilgrims. Tibet, on the ‘roof of the world’, for centuries remained mostly isolated from the rest of the world. Though formally under Chinese suzerainty since the late 18th century, Lhasa before 1950 had managed its own affairs for decades. For a multitude of reasons neither British India nor Tibet nor Imperial China, respectively Republican China, had felt an urgent need to define the boundary. Chinese governments from the middle of the 19th century had been struggling to keep control over the periphery of the empire. They insisted on extensive territorial claims, like the ‘five fingers’ of Tibet – Ladakh, Nepal, Sikkim, Bhutan and what is today the Indian state of Arunachal Pradesh – but refused to conclude any treaties which, given the balance of power, would most likely have been to their detriment. British India was a peculiar political entity. The East India Company and, after 1857, the Crown had established a diarchy. Next to each other existed areas under direct control of the British and more than 500 princely states that de jure remained sovereign even if the colonial rulers controlled their external affairs. To the north, British India was secured by a number of buffer states of different relevance. In British strategic thinking, it was the northwest with the Khyber Pass, the traditional entrance gate into the subcontinent for invaders since millennia, that needed maximum attention. On the contrary, the very north and the northeast appeared to be inaccessible to proper armies. Until the Anglo-Russian Treaty from August 1907, Tsarist Russia with its drive southwards was the only external threat. After the British had attempted to subjugate Afghanistan in vain over three wars, it emerged as the most important buffer around which the famous Great Game was played. Whereas the British took over direct control of the crucial North West Frontier Province (NWFP) immediately to the South of the Khyber Pass, the control of the border areas eastwards was mostly left to indigenous princes. Kashmir (including Ladakh), the kingdom of Nepal, Sikkim and Bhutan were supposed to secure much more difficult routes of approach to the subcontinent. The very northeast had been accessible for centuries only from Bengal; otherwise it was surrounded by natural barriers like the Himalayas in the north and the nearly impenetrable border areas with Burma. The British, having neither much economic nor any military interests in the region, exercised only very loose control via treaties with local rulers and tribals. In short, British India did not have a modern state’s clearly defined territory with demarcated borders; it faded out northwards and, in the thinking of the time, it was neither necessary nor possible to know where exactly British India or British influence ended. Nevertheless, there had been attempts to secure supposedly strategically necessary borders east of the Khyber Pass. W.H. Johnson of the Survey

4  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta

Map 1  Ladakh – claim lines, Aksai Chin Road

of India in 1865 had suggested, without success, to claim Ladakh up to the Kunlun [Kuen Lun] range, including the whole of Aksai Chin.1 Thirty-two years later, the chief of the British military intelligence, Sir John Ardagh, propagated the same line – subsequently named after him – but

Introduction 5 failed to convince the Government of India once again because it considered the line too ambitious. Instead, in 1899, it approached the Imperial Chinese Foreign Office proposing a boundary along the so-called MacCartney-MacDonald Line that would have placed most of Aksai Chin within Chinese territory. Beijing, however, did not respond. British attitudes changed quickly over the following years. In 1911, the Indian Army favoured the Ardagh Line once again, whereas British India’s Foreign Secretary Henry McMahon suggested at the Simla Conference in 1914 to make the whole of Aksai Chin a part of Tibet, thereby creating a buffer between Kashmir, Russian-dominated Sinkiang and Republican China. The proposal went nowhere because the Chinese delegation, for unrelated reasons, withdrew from the conference.2 Thereafter, Delhi’s position remained vague. In 1946, however, the General Staff of the Indian Army produced a map for the Cabinet Mission in which Aksai Chin was not a part of British India.3 The feeble attempts to decide about the territorial affiliation of the high plateau in any case were more of an academic nature. The area was ‘about as desolate (and remote) as the surface of the moon’4 and had ‘no intrinsic value’.5 Aksai Chin would remain a sort of a blind spot on the map until China started road construction in the 1950s.

Map 2  North East Frontier Association (NEFA), with claim lines

6  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta

Map 3  Ladakh – Chinese claim lines, Indian patrols

The story of the populated border areas further east was somewhat different. With some regularity, disputes between Indian and Tibetan authorities surfaced about who was or was not allowed to collect taxes. It was during Lord Curzon’s term as viceroy (1899–1906) that, for once, the focus was

Introduction 7 on India’s borders. Taking the Russian threat seriously, Curzon not only established the NWFP but tried to find a settlement for Aksai Chin. In 1903, Colonel Francis Younghusband led an expedition to Tibet, nominally in order to prevent a Russian intervention.6 Younghusband de facto enforced the opening of Tibet and the signing of the Treaty of Lhasa on 7 September 1904, permitting British trade missions in Yadong, Gyantse and Gartok. It also made Tibet, formally still a region of imperial China, pay an indemnity, recognize the border with Sikkim and abstain from relations with any other foreign country. The Treaty of Lhasa was replaced with the Convention between Great Britain and China respecting Tibet on 27 April 1906. Whereas, on the one hand, it reaffirmed Chinese suzerainty over Tibet, with the British guaranteeing not to annex any territory or to interfere in Tibetan domestic affairs, Beijing, on the other hand, assured that it would not permit any foreign power to interfere in Tibet. In 1913, the Government of India tried to reach a comprehensive solution for its borders in the northeast, inviting a Tibetan and a Chinese delegation to Simla. The idea was to reach an agreement that would fix the boundary east from Bhutan along the Himalayan watershed, which came to be known after British India’s Foreign Secretary Henry McMahon. Whereas British India and Tibet eventually agreed on the terms regarding their mutual border, no consensus could be reached between Tibet and China regarding the line separating ‘inner’ and ‘outer Tibet’, indicating that Beijing considered the latter autonomous. The Chinese delegation withdrew from the convention, whereas the British Indian and the Tibetan plenipotentiaries signed, on 3 July 1914, the Simla Accord, including a small-scale map showing the McMahon Line. In an attached note, China was denied any privileges under the accord. The Simla Accord was repudiated not only by Republican China but also by the Government of India, arguing that it was incompatible with the Anglo-Russian Convention from 1907. Later discussions focused on the question whether Lhasa had the right to enter into any agreements of this kind, although all three parties concerned recognized Chinese suzerainty over Tibet. Proponents of the validity of the Simla Accord also argued that the Chinese delegation withdrew not due to differences about the Tibet-Assam border, but with “because of differences about the geographical extent of Outer Tibet. The agreement disappeared into oblivion until the British in 1937 started publishing maps with the McMahon Line as official boundary of British India. This unilateral step triggered regular protests by both the Tibetan and the Republican Chinese governments. Notwithstanding the military alliance in World War II, the latter in late 1943 and 1946 launched protests against activities of British Indian troops south of the McMahon Line in what it considered part of its province Xikang (encompassing territories in eastern Tibet and western Sichuan).7 It also regularly issued maps claiming

8  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta tribal territories in Assam,8 a practice which the British internally labelled ‘a campaign of annexation by cartography’.9 As late as winter 1946/47, Tibetan officials, supported by troops, tried to collect taxes in certain places in NEFA.10 After India had gained independence, the government in Lhasa expressed hopes for a cordial bilateral relationship, but at the same time demanded the return of Ladakh, Darjeeling, Sikkim and Bhutan.11 In correspondence with map publishers, the British government had taken a clear line in late 1944: ‘Care should be taken to show the international frontier between Assam and Tibet as running not along the northern administered border of Assam but a considerable way to the north, along the main ridge of the Himalayas.’ The status of Tibet vis-à-vis China, however, was considered ‘somewhat indeterminate’.12 Regarding the latter issue, India chose a much more determined stand. A Tibetan delegation was invited to the Asian Relations Conference held in Delhi in March and April 1947 and, despite Republican Chinese protests, treated like that of a sovereign country.13 When the Chinese ambassador in Delhi later that year protested against maps showing Tibet as a separate country, the Secretary General of the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA), Sir Girja Shankar Bajpai, made clear ‘that the protest was childish and could not be taken seriously’.14 ‘Demi-officially’, the Government of India requested from the British government ‘to do something “even now” to bring to the notice of British cartographers the fact that Tibet should not be shown on their maps as part of China’.15 India would have been clearly better off with Tibet as an independent buffer, and China for decades had been in no shape to exercise any authority there. To no surprise, Nehru strongly protested against the Chinese military occupation of Tibet in 1950–51.16 The first Indian of relevance to anticipate dangers accompanied with the foreseeable Communist victory in China was the Ambassador in Nanjing, K.M. Panikkar. In an essay titled ‘When China goes Communist’ from November 1948 he warned of the ‘combination of Machiavelli and Marx’ which would not permit territories at the periphery like Tibet any independence. A centralist China ‘will be in an extremely powerful position to claim its historic role of authority over Tibet’, though those claims were ‘vague and dizzy. . . . Not only the McMahon Line, but the entire boundary from Ladakh to Burma may become a new area of trouble’. In the case of the fall of the Republican Chinese government, Panikkar expected Tibet to declare independence and suggested Indian recognition, expecting the United Kingdom and the United States to take the lead. ‘There may be some hope of keeping the new Chinese Communist State away from the Indian border.’17 Bajpai and Home Minister Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel raised the issue again in 1950, trying in vain to convince Nehru to pay more attention to Indian military preparations at the Indo-Tibetan border and to

Introduction 9 cooperate more closely with the West.18 The Himmatsinjhi Committee in its report published in April and September 1951 recommended to extend administration all over NEFA and to develop the area. The boundary was meant to be secured with check posts.19 That the Government of India did not consider the northern boundary as wholly fixed became evident twice in the early 1950s. Maps published in 1950 labelled the western and central sector of the border ‘undefined’,20 indicating a clear position only in the east. On the contrary, Aksai China and the middle part of the boundary appeared to be open for debate. In November the same year, however, Nehru publicly declared that the border from Ladakh to Nepal was defined by usage and custom, and the one from Bhutan to Burma by the McMahon Line.21 No survey of border areas or research in archives had taken place by then. Nevertheless, India itself extended its border in the east when, in February 1951, it occupied the northern part of Tawang District. The area is located south of the ­McMahon Line, a fact that escaped the attention of the British Indian government until the mid-1930s. Although Tibet had accepted the Simla Accord, it had refused to hand over the district because it is home to an important Buddhist monastery. Accordingly, in 1938, a tentative British attempt to take over control met strong Tibetan protests. In 1944, however, the southern part of the district was brought under British Indian administration. Only after the Chinese occupation of Tibet, the rest of the area was incorporated into Indian territory. In September 1951, Chinese Prime Minister Zhou Enlai suggested discussions about the correct location of the Indo-Tibetan boundary,22 but became reluctant again by early 1952.23 Nevertheless, in April, Nehru instructed Panikkar to take up the matter of a ‘general settlement of our interests in Tibet’ including ‘affirmation of the frontier’.24 Panikkar, however, ignored those instructions,25 arguing instead that Zhou’s ‘persistent silence should . . . be treated as acquiescence in – if not acceptance of’ the Indian claims. India should use the time to develop its standing in the areas that might come under discussion in the near future.26 Nehru followed this advice.27 Having always recognized Chinese suzerainty over Tibet, India accepted the new reality of a strong China as an immediate neighbour. In the Tibet Agreement of April 1954, India denounced the Treaty of Lhasa from 1904 and reconfirmed the Chinese position. The issue of the common boundary was not discussed at all; the agreement named a few passes for pilgrims along the Himalayan watershed but nowhere did it explicitly say that those formed part of the boundary, although some in the Government of India took it at least as an indication. The very first time the issue was raised in bilateral talks was in late 1954 on the occasion of Nehru’s visit to China. Zhou mentioned that Chinese maps differed from those of its

10  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta neighbours first of all because they were outdated. His government had not had the time either for a proper survey of the border areas or for consultations with other countries. Nevertheless, Zhou assured Nehru, Communist China did ‘not have any deliberate intentions of changing the boundaries as KMT [Kuomintang/Guomindang] had’. His Indian counterpart accepted the explanation and confirmed that ‘our frontiers are clear’.28 Nevertheless, the first minor dispute had already surfaced in July and August that year. Both countries claimed a grazing ground in the middle sector of the boundary, which the Indians named Bara Hoti and the Chinese Wu Je (Wure). Mutual protests against the intrusion of patrols were lodged and reiterated in the following years, but it was not until 1958 that Beijing acquiesced in bilateral discussions among officials not leading to a conclusion.

From border tensions to war, 1957–62 During his visit to Delhi at the turn of 1956/57, Zhou Enlai for the first time repudiated the term McMahon Line, but also was ready to recognize its location as the customary border. He, however, left a backdoor open informing Delhi that Beijing had not yet consulted the Tibetan government about the issue.29 In the summer of 1959, however, he claimed that the Indians had misunderstood his statement.30 The Chinese announcement of the completion of a road through Aksai Chin, linking Tibet and Xinjiang (Sinkiang) on 2 September 1957, took India by total surprise. In none of the conversations with Nehru, Zhou had ever mentioned the construction although India claimed the area as part of its own territory. An Indian patrol sent to gather information about the location of the road the following summer was detained and set free only two months later. In October 1958, Delhi launched a formal protest against the road, with Zhou replying in January 1959 that Aksai Chin had always been under Chinese jurisdiction, declaring the whole joint border over more than 3,000 kilometres open to debate.31 The unrest in Tibet, simmering since years, exploded in a major uprising in March 1959. Among those seeking and being granted asylum in India was the Dalai Lama, who in public statements criticized Chinese rule in Tibet. The tone of notes exchanged between Delhi and Beijing grew more and more hostile. The first border skirmish took place on 25 August at Longju north of the McMahon Line, followed by another one at the Kongka Pass in Ladakh on 21 October. In the second, a number of Indians were killed, with the rest of the party arrested. As the clashes were partially the result of both countries moving forces towards their respective claim lines, both sides suggested military disengagement but under conditions unacceptable to the other party. In February 1960, the Government of India accepted Zhou’s offer for a summit of the two prime ministers, which

Introduction 11 took place from 20 to 25 April in Delhi. No compromise was found apart from an agreement to continue discussions about the respective territorial claims on the level of officials. Three rounds between June and December did not produce any solution. In February 1961, India published the joint report together with a separate one explaining its own position.32 In January 1961, the Indian Army announced to the government that it was not prepared for more than limited warfare in the Himalayas, but asked only for a modest increase in armaments and troops.33 As the China’s People’s Liberation Army (PLA) in Ladakh pushed forward to the Chinese claim line, Defence Minister V.K. Krishna Menon developed the Forward Policy: ‘If the Chinese were placing their posts in Indian territory, the Indians could place posts behind them and closer to the Indian claimed border.’ This policy was implemented after Delhi had discovered that a Chinese post had been established in the Chip Chap Valley close to Indian-controlled territory. The Indian Intelligence Bureau (IB) held the opinion that even token occupation of areas hitherto under no one’s control would keep the PLA away.34 That China would not react sharply ‘became an article of faith for military as well as civilian officials in Delhi’. In November Nehru gave orders that Indian units in Ladakh should patrol as far as possible but avoiding any clashes. In the middle and eastern sector, the army was to establish control of the whole border.35 The new strategy appeared to be successful when in May 1962 the PLA after taking a menacing posture vis-à-vis an Indian post in the Chip Chap Valley retreated. Already in June, however, Chinese forces surrounded a check post in the Galwan Valley in Ladakh. Although after massive Indian diplomatic warnings they refrained from attacking, the PLA went on to surround and isolate Indian posts, which led to shooting incidents.36 In the meantime, the focus of the Government of India shifted towards NEFA, particularly the disputed Thagla area from which it wanted the PLA to be pushed out. In September 1962, Krishna Menon ordered that, if necessary, force should be used, ignoring the advice of military leaders believing the Indian Army was not strong enough. From 20 to 30 September, sporadic fighting occurred in the area, with Nehru keen to demonstrate resolve.37 Full-scale war started with a Chinese attack on 20 October. Notwithstanding the difficult topographic conditions and against all military analysis,38 the PLA proved capable to launch a massive attack in the east including the use of tanks. Neither side, however, used its air force. Within a few days, the PLA controlled the areas up to the Chinese claim line in Ladakh. In the east, Indian troops had to withdraw from the Thagla area and Walong. A temporary lull in the fighting from 24 October was accompanied by a letter from Zhou offering negotiations, a mutual 20-kilometre withdrawal from the lines of actual control, a Chinese withdrawal to the north of the

12  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta Indian claim line in NEFA and a guarantee that neither side would cross the line of present control in Aksai China. Nehru in return insisted on the boundary prior to 8 September. Zhou turned this down, instead suggesting to return to the McMahon Line in the east and the Chinese claim line in Aksai Chin. Intense fighting resumed on 17 and 18 November, with Chinese forces in the east driving helpless Indian units down to the Brahmaputra plain. On 19 November, Zhou declared a unilateral ceasefire to start two days later. The PLA withdrew to the lines held before 20 October. Until today, India and China have not agreed on their common border. The line of actual control in Aksai Chin is nearly identical with the MacCartney-Macdonald Line; apart from minor exceptions, in the east it is equivalent to the watershed, respectively, the McMahon Line.

Historiography Research on India’s role in the 1962 war until today is suffering from the lack of access to archival sources. Papers of key protagonists, such as Nehru or Menon, remain closed as are many of those of the MEA. The Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru provide researchers with documents up to early April 1960, but particularly the recent volumes regarding Sino-Indian relations offer mostly manuscripts of speeches instead of internal documents. Apart from the White Papers,39 historians had no choice but to reconstruct internal decision-making via archival material available in other countries or via memoirs. Only three of the main Indian civilian protagonists have published their reminiscences. In 1971, the former director of the IB, B.N. Mullik, indicated in the subtitle of his book The Chinese Betrayal which party he considered responsible for the boundary dispute and the war.40 Mullik provides the reader with many details about Indian intelligence and decision-making at the top level. Responding to public criticism of the poor performance of the IB, the memoir is partially apologetic and not always reliable. Six years later, former Foreign Secretary Subimal Dutt provided a much more trustworthy and balanced account of the Indian perception of the boundary dispute and the logic behind major decisions.41 The recent opening of the Dutt papers at the Nehru Memorial Museum and Library (NMML) revealed that the memoir is based on an extensive collection of official files. Although Dutt’s term ended in April 1961 and the book did not get much public attention in the late 1970s, nearly all research around the boundary dispute relies heavily on this memoir, even more as the author has been criticizing not only Chinese, but – though in a moderate manner – also Indian policy. Jagat S. Mehta’s reminiscences were a latecomer in 2007; he dedicated a full chapter to the boundary dispute under the telling title ‘Diplomatic Advocacy in a Crisis of mutual Misperceptions’.42 Working

Introduction 13 immediately under Dutt, Mehta was deeply involved in Sino-Indian affairs since 1959, an eye-witness to the April 1960 summit, and leading the Indian delegation in the bilateral talks thereafter. His accurate account reflects the Indian frustration about the near impossibility to involve the Chinese counterparts in proper discussions about the rights and wrongs of the historical claims, which is also evident in Dutt’s memoirs and the collection of official files the latter has left with the NMML. The earliest research on the boundary dispute dates back even before the outbreak of the war. In 1959, the Legal Advisor of the MEA, K. Krishna Rao, produced an analysis of the legal status of Tibet and the validity of the McMahon Line, but it was published only in April 1962.43 Rao came to the conclusion that, though Delhi’s claim was not without deficiencies, China had acquiesced India’s effective control over NEFA and thus forfeited all of its claims. The PLA’s incursion into India, he found, was ‘a flagrant disregard of the principle of good faith’; the use of force entitled India to defend itself. Margaret W. Fisher, Leo E. Rose and Robert A. Huttenback offered similar judgments in the first monograph about the conflict, published as early as 1963.44 It originally had been intended as an investigation into the historical rights of both parties in Ladakh since the 19th century, but also took into account the war. China supposedly had attacked to slow down Indian development and out of wounded pride while Beijing’s tactics allegedly were deceptive after having stealthily built the Aksai Chin road and thereafter having attempted a negotiated Indian surrender. The first monograph discussing Chinese and Indian claims along the border as a whole – the most intriguing question for public and historians in the years immediately after the war – was provided by Alastair Lamb in 1964.45 The China-India Border until today is one of the most detailed accounts of the history of the border regions. Whereas Lamb holds that in the east a compromise along the watershed could have been easily achieved and the middle sector was not prone to raise any disputes, in his eyes the Indian claim line in Aksai Chin was based on a series of coincidences and errors mostly dating back to the colonial period. Later research around the history of the border areas by, for example, Parshotam Mehra, Suchita Ghosh and recently A.G. Noorani relies heavily on Lamb’s work.46 The numerous studies of India’s military performance in the war, like D.K. Palit’s War in the High Himalaya, are not the focus of this volume.47 With the recent leakage of part one of the Henderson Brooks–Bhagat Report, the classified internal account of the military aspects of the conflict, they anyway became outdated.48 Dorothy Woodman in Himalayan Frontiers49 in 1969, like Fisher, put the full blame for the war on China. In her eyes, Beijing had never been willing to negotiate on the border, but instead intended to weaken a rival.

14  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta She characterized Zhou’s assurances as insincere and the result of coldly calculated opportunism. Nehru, who in a poor country like India would never have found support for an early military build-up in the H ­ imalayas, received blame for his trustfulness and for missing the opportunity to push for a settlement when Delhi’s position still was favourable. In the end, fighting the war had led to nothing but a humiliation and a line of actual control exactly along the Chinese claim lines. On the contrary, Neville Maxwell in his India’s China War focused on the faults of the Government of India, maintaining that it was mostly the latter’s provocative border policy that was responsible for a major escalation.50 As South Asia correspondent for The Times since 1959, he had been in close contact with events and protagonists. The monograph among others was based on the Henderson Brooks–Bhagat Report, which criticized Indian political and military decisions before and during the 1962 war. In an article from 1999, Maxwell reiterated his views that India unilaterally decided about the borders and later on refused to negotiate about them; China only reacted to this policy and in October 1962 entered into a pre-emptive war.51 Using Western and Chinese published sources, Liu Xuecheng in 1994 to a certain degree confirmed Maxwell, arguing that Indian inflexibility and the Forward Policy eventually forced China into the border war.52 In comparison, Karunakar Gupta in The Hidden History of the Sino-Indian Frontier in 1974 maintained that there was genuine friendship and cooperation between the two neighbours during the 1950s.53 They drifted apart because of superpower politics, British manipulations and strong Taiwan and Tibet lobbies playing a crucial role in Indian politics. Those views have not found much support later on. Since the 1962 war appeared avoidable to many scholars, the investigative focus increasingly turned towards decision-making processes. Allen S. Whiting in 1974 followed a mediated stimulus–response model, trying to understand Chinese decisions as reactions to the behaviour of other countries as perceived by the leadership in Beijing.54 He took in account the perceived foreign penetration of Tibet, the conflict with Taiwan, but also domestic politics like the Great Leap Forward. M. Taylor Fravel in 2008 drew a much wider picture, comparing Chinese behaviour in 23 territorial conflicts between cooperation and confrontation.55 Regarding the Sino-Indian boundary conflict, the author investigated only the years between 1960 and 1962. Fravel maintains that the Indian Forward Policy threatened to make Chinese positions vulnerable in times of domestic difficulties; Beijing only resorted to force after diplomacy had failed. In comparison, Yaacov Vertzberger in 1984 investigated processes of group dynamics on a personal and an organizational level, coming to the conclusion that, notwithstanding that Indian democracy was led by

Introduction 15 a convinced democrat, no proper assessment of the situation or a discussion of alternative strategies had taken place. Thus, the Indian leadership was surprised when China attacked in autumn 1962.56 In 1990, Steven A. Hoffmann analysed Indian decision-making, looking into information processing, patterns of consultations and the consideration of alternatives.57 Though Hoffmann had no access to Indian archival material, thanks to numerous interviews with many protagonists since the years immediately after the war, his account and analysis are highly reliable. Only recently has the Sino-Indian boundary conflict received more attention once again. Srinath Raghavan investigated crisis management in the Nehru years, based on extensive archival research in India and the United Kingdom.58 In the two chapters dedicated to the border conflict, he focuses, first, on perceptions and decisions of the civilian government and, second, on its interaction with the military leadership. Raghavan’s conclusions are twofold. The army in the prehistory of the war was to blame for both a too passive stand communicating its assessment of the situation on the ground and poorly implementing the decisions of the government. The principal mistakes before and during the war, however, were made by the civilians in Delhi. Jayanta Kumar Ray, in general a critic of the Nehru administration, argues similarly.59 In his detailed account, he blames the British and the Americans for missing the chance to acknowledge Tibetan independence while pursuing their own petty goals in Asia. As the main reason for developments from 1947, he names India’s half-hearted Tibet policy that aimed for the country’s independence without actively pursuing it. Finding both diplomacy and military of an extremely poor quality between 1959 and 1962, he makes Nehru and Menon responsible, both considered mentally insane. The most recent notable monograph by Claude Arpi is not a scholarly study, but a contribution relevant for researchers due to the many quotations from sources available hardly anywhere else.60 In comparison, the volume of Chinese-language literature on the Sino-Indian conflict is much smaller. On the one hand, academic publications started to appear only following the opening of the PRC in late 1978. On the other hand, Chinese scholars working on the history of the country’s foreign relations often focus on the United States and the Soviet Union, or China’s East Asian neighbours Korea and Vietnam. Still, Chinese academics and party research units have produced a noteworthy body of scholarship. Two short pieces published in the first half of the 1980s briefly sketched the legal problems surrounding the missing border demarcation.61 The official Dangdai Zhongguo (Contemporary China) series from 1988 provided one of the first scholarly narratives of Sino-Indian relations since the late 1940s, including the war,62 which was followed by the first book-length military history of the border war five years later.63 The

16  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta officially published life chronicles (nianpu) of Zhou Enlai and Mao Zedong provide much additional detail on decision-making.64 In contrast, the official biographies of these two pre-eminent Chinese leaders barely touch foreign relations.65 Since the 1990s, Chinese historians have tried to move beyond merely chronicling events in Sino-Indian relations. Early interpretations still tend to place responsibility for the war squarely on the Indian side.66 With the partial, but only temporary opening of Chinese archives in the new millennium, Chinese scholars in general were able to use a wider range of evidence. As a result, Dai Chaowu, one of the few Chinese specialists on India, and Shen Zhihua, a Chinese specialist on the Soviet Union, tried to place the development of the Sino-Indian relationship into a larger Cold War context, particularly with regard to the concurrently collapsing Sino-Soviet alliance.67

Archival sources Three Indian archives have provided evidence to several chapters in this book. The NAI provided files of the MEA. However, they consist mainly of monthly and annual reports of somewhat limited relevance because the MEA until recently has been rather restrictive in transferring its files to the NAI. More relevant insights in decision-making processes provide the internal archives of the ministry, to which but one of the editors enjoyed privileged access. Still, until today, the most relevant files regarding India’s relations with China, the United Kingdom, the United States and the Soviet Union remain with the respective departments of the MEA and are unlikely to become accessible to researchers in the foreseeable future. The NMML, housing numerous collections of personal papers of politicians and officials, helps to fill some of the gaps. Unfortunately, the papers of Krishna Menon remain closed for research for an unforeseeable period. For decades, this had also been the case for the Nehru papers; the recent decision to open them – with the practical results still to be seen – came too late for the authors of this volume. The 62 currently available volumes of the Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru (2nd series) cover the period up to early April 1960 and are an indispensable resources to any researcher.68 Among the collections in NMML, the papers of officers of the Indian Foreign Service, such as of Subimal Dutt, T.N. Kaul and P.N. Haksar, have been particularly useful. Among the Chinese archives, only the Foreign Ministry Archive (PRC FMA) had opened its doors by the early 2000s.69 Before the closing of most of its holdings in 2012 for political reasons, scholars could access digitized copies of over 10,000 documents on a wide range of topics for the period from 1949 to the mid-1960s. Although there were some discernible gaps in the collection (e.g. on relations with India and on the Vietnam War), the

Introduction 17 documents seemed to represent fairly the record of Communist China’s foreign relations. The nature of the declassified documents clearly reflected their functional origin; many were routine diplomatic documents (e.g. embassy reports), but some included conversations of central party leaders with foreign leaders. Several PRC FMA documents have been published in English translations in the digital archive of the Cold War International History Project. Archives in the former socialist world contributed many important documents to various chapters in this volume. While researchers still face access problems to Russian archives,70 the open collections in several repositories in Moscow provide important clues to Soviet policy towards the Sino-Indian conflict. Luckily, documents of Presidium meetings of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union have been published in Russian-language edited volumes and the journal Istochnik.71 The almost completely open archives of the former German Democratic Republic and the former Czechoslovak Socialist Republic are particularly useful sources of evidence. They contain embassy reports from India and China; talks with Indian, Chinese and Soviet governmental and party officials; and Soviet reports about Sino-Indian relations.72 In Serbia, the Archive of Yugoslavia and the Foreign Ministry Archive provide excellent insight into the relationship between the Non-Aligned Movement and the Sino-Indian War.73 Archives from the former West offer such great amounts of evidence that researchers drown in documents. Collections of the UK and US archives traditionally have been wide open due to legally mandated declassification.74 They contain a wide range of documents covering internal debates, conversations with foreign leaders, analyses of foreign countries, embassy reports, routine diplomatic traffic, to military assessments. The US government has routinely published representative selections of its documents on specific foreign policy topics, which however mostly focus on the conduct of American foreign policy.75 Similarly, the German Foreign Office routinely issues Akten zur Auswärtigen Politik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland [Documents of the Foreign Policy of the Federal Republic of Germany].76 The archives of Australia and Canada offer a similarly open access to researchers.77 Due to their shared Commonwealth membership and the absence of an imperialist legacy, the two countries enjoyed close working relationships with India and Pakistan that provide unexpected insights. The Swiss Federal Archives contain embassy reports from Delhi from the perspective of a neutral country.78

Chapter summaries Opening Part I, Lorenz M. Lüthi provides a long-term overview of India’s policy towards China from the end of World War II to the mid-1970s (chapter 1). In the first decade, the South Asian country tried to come to

18  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta terms with the emerging PRC. While Delhi followed a policy of principled support for Communist China’s claim of membership in the United Nations, it did not completely trust the new government in Beijing. Nehru was troubled by the Communist Chinese occupation of Tibet, feared the expansive nature of the PRC, but at the same time did not want to negotiate on the borders which he considered a settled issue. In the five years before 1962, his dual policy of friendly engagement and negotiations on the disputed borders collapsed. During the negotiations with Zhou Enlai in April 1960, Nehru was unwilling to make any major territorial concessions at all. In the dozen years after the war in late 1962, India had to come to terms with China’s hostile policies, the increasing collaboration between the Chinese and Pakistani neighbours and the PRC’s rise to great power status in the United Nations. By 1974, India exploded its first nuclear device in an attempt to catch up with the PRC which had ridden to international standing partially on the basis of its own nuclear test a decade before. In chapter 2, Amit R. Das Gupta, partly on the basis of classified papers, investigates the key role of Foreign Secretary Subimal Dutt (1955–61) in formulating and implementing Indian policy in the boundary dispute. As a former ICS officer coming from a realist and anti-Communist school of thinking, Dutt quickly brought the formerly vague and indecisive China policy to an end, choosing a minor dispute around Bara Hoti to find out whether Beijing was after all willing to negotiate. After talks had taken place only after much delay and ended without any result, Nehru made the foreign secretary the man in charge for handling the dispute which with the Aksai Chin Road in 1957 had become one over the whole run of the border. Dutt’s strategy was to take a firm stand but to avoid provocations and to collect documentary evidence in British archives to support India’s historical rights. Once the Government of India had convinced itself to have a fool-proof case even in Aksai Chin, it invited Zhou Enlai, on Dutt’s initiative, to Delhi in April 1960. The summit not only ended without any progress but gave evidence of disunity in the Indian leadership. Thereafter, the foreign secretary took care for the publication of Indian documents demonstrating to the world the rightness of India’s stand. Although from summer 1961 he held the influential ambassadorship in Moscow, the Nehru government did not make use of Dutt’s expertise from then on. In chapter 3, Dai Chaowu explores China’s relationship with India from 1949 to 1962. Similar to Delhi, Beijing delayed negotiations on the disputed border; yet, unlike India, the PRC did not consider any particular line a settled issue but decided to play on time. On the one hand, it did not want to endanger the nascent friendship with the South Asian neighbour through potentially antagonistic negotiations on the borders. Communist China also had realized that the border territories were a sensitive issue to

Introduction 19 India. For example, Nehru’s government did not allow supplies for the Chinese army stationed in Tibet to be delivered via the convenient route across India’s territory. On the other hand, the early PRC had first to survey the historical and legal situation of all of its borders, which took much time. Early on, some officials had doubts about the soundness of long-standing Chinese claims with regard to the borders with India. Once military clashes at the border occurred in the second half of the 1950s, Beijing took a pragmatic approach by proposing a compromise deal in which each side would get what was most dear to it. After Nehru and Zhou could not reach an agreement in April 1960, the PRC reinforced its border defence. It decided to go to war in response to the perception of a greater Indian military assertiveness in the border regions. Beijing used Delhi’s turn to Washington and London for military aid during the war in late 1962 to accuse it of having sold out its non-aligned status. Eric Hyer (chapter 4) places the Chinese approach to the border dispute with India into the larger context of China’s domestic and international weakness in the early 1960s. Against the background of the failed Great Leap Forward (1958–60), Beijing attempted to defuse territorial disagreements with several of its neighbours. From 1959 to 1963, the PRC was able to resolve its border disputes with Burma, Nepal and Pakistan in an amicable way. China’s willingness to offer a compromise deal in April 1960 not only fit into this larger pattern of external behaviour, but also reflected its simultaneous attempts to develop a moderate foreign policy towards the United States, the Soviet Union and India. Even after the failure of the Nehru–Zhou talks in April 1960, the PRC pursued a conciliatory policy towards the outside world – as for example in the case of negotiating a compromise agreement on Laos during the Geneva Conference in 1961–62. Only by the late summer of 1962 did Beijing reject its moderate-cooperative approach in foreign policy for ideological reasons. Paul McGarr’s chapter commences Part II with an analysis of US and UK policy towards India before, during and immediately after the 1962 war (chapter 5). In the early 1960s, British-American relations were strained due to policy differences on Europe, NATO and the Middle East. Both sides, however, realized that shared interests with regard to India – that is, limiting Soviet influence and defusing the Indo-Pakistani conflict – could serve to improve their mutual relationship. During the Goa crisis and its aftermath in 1961–62, Delhi alienated Washington and London when it moved against a member of NATO without prior consultation. American and British political and military aid during and immediately after the war of 1962 accrued much goodwill in India towards the West. As Washington pushed London to take the lead in their joint policy towards South Asia – that is, in containing the Sino-Indian conflict, preventing the outbreak

20  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta of Indo-Pakistani hostilities and keeping India in the Non-Alignment Movement – it allowed its British partner to determine American policies. US–Indian disagreements over linking arms deliveries with Kashmir talks with Pakistan and the installation of a radio transmitter of the Voice of America in India took care for a return to mutual suspicions. In chapter 6, Amit R. Das Gupta analyses how the Sino-Indian ­border dispute caused a fundamental reorientation of Pakistan’s foreign ­policy. Had the country, inferior to its hostile twin India, placed its hopes on the United States to help establish a military and later an economic counterweight, it had to realize during and after the war that – when the worst came to the worst – Washington gave higher priority to stabilizing the South Asian giant than rewarding ally Pakistan for not making use of India’s defeat. Islamabad’s tentative attempts for rapprochement with ­Beijing gathered momentum as soon as the latter saw no more prospects for a settlement with Delhi, resulting in a Sino-Pakistani border agreement benefitting the smaller partner. The timing of the opening of the negotiations and the announcement of a settlement probably contributed to the failure of the Indo-Pakistani Kashmir talks. In the long term, ‘1962’ stands for the establishment of the axis Beijing–Islamabad, to a large part based on parallel national interests in limiting Indian influence, and a loosening of ties with the United States. Andreas Hilger argues in chapter 7 that the Soviet Union was confused about the outbreak of the Sino-Indian War in October 1962. The hostilities revealed that the Soviet–Chinese alliance and Soviet–Indian friendship were incompatible. In 1950, Moscow had entered into a friendship and alliance treaty with Beijing; since 1955, the Soviet Union had tried to establish good relations with India, a major ‘neutral’ – that is, non-aligned – country in the global Cold War. Soviet–Chinese relations deteriorated in the late 1950s just at a time when Sino-Indian relations worsened as well. Concurrently engaged in its own crisis in Cuba, Moscow decided to assume a quasi-neutral position during the war, which, however, alienated both China and India. Given Western military aid to India, the Soviet Union feared that India would cease being ‘neutral’ in the Cold War. In the wake of the war, Moscow thus advised Delhi to take strong positions on Kashmir towards Pakistan in order to disturb American-British attempts to defuse the crisis. ˇ avoški focuses on the reaction of the non-aligned In chapter 8, Jovan C states, particularly Yugoslavia and Egypt, to the Sino-Indian border conflict. They were concerned about the repercussions of Sino-Indian tensions as early as 1959 when the first major skirmishes occurred. But only three years later, several non-aligned countries took immediate action to mediate in the Sino-Indian conflict, mostly because they feared that India might

Introduction 21 leave the Non-Aligned Movement for an alliance with the United States. Due to Yugoslavia’s ideological conflict with the PRC, Afro-Asian states among the Non-Aligned Movement took the lead in mediation. While the United Arab Republic (Egypt) initially seized the initiative, it was C ­ eylon that presented the non-aligned mediation proposal – which fully supported neither pro-Indian Egypt nor pro-Chinese Indonesia – to India and the PRC in early 1963. Delhi accepted what amounted to the restoration of the status quo-ante in the Himalayas, while Beijing demanded some amendments. Despite the ultimate failure of the mediation attempt, Yugoslav and Egyptian diplomacy not only prevented India from leaving but ultimately also strengthened the movement. Standing at the beginning of Part III, Imtiaz Omar’s chapter 9 explores the impact of the Sino-Indian border war on India’s constitutional order. During the war, the government for the first time implemented the emergency provisions of the constitution from 1949. The Defence of India Act allowed the Indian government to detain, without the provision of any reasons or even without trial, any person engaging in acts prejudicial to India’s defence and safety. An amendment extended the act to persons of hostile origin. In several cases brought to the Supreme Court in subsequent years, the judges upheld the legality of the Defence of India Act, even after the original reasons for its implementation had disappeared. The Supreme Court thereby denied itself for the future the power of judicial review of any emergency declaration or similar legislation that limits constitutionally guaranteed freedoms of Indian citizens. Subho Basu’s chapter focuses on how the emergency rule influenced the CPI (chapter 10). Although the Indian government arrested almost 1,000 party members of the internationalist wing on the suspicion of being Maoist and thus pro-Chinese, only the experience of incarceration produced two Maoist splinter parties. Still, by then, the connection between Indian and Chinese Communism had been long-standing. It was an Indian communist and Comintern agent, M.N. Roy, who provided the young Chinese party with the idea of an agrarian revolution in the mid-1920s. In the following decades, the Indian Communists were torn between a moderate wing that proposed collaboration with, including subversion of, the Congress Party and a radical wing propagating rural revolution. The establishment of the PRC in 1949 as a supposedly agrarian model, India’s execution of free general elections two years later and the open outbreak of Sino-Indian border tensions in 1959 exacerbated the divisions within the CPI. Those members who were arrested in 1962 suspected that the moderate faction, which supported Nehru’s policies towards the PRC, had collaborated with the Indian government in their arrest and ultimately their political suppression. Continued waves of arrest in subsequent years further

22  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta embittered the radical faction. Long imprisonment under emergency rule provided a fertile ground for radicals to see Maoism as an alternative form of radical communism. In a similar vein, Payal Banerjee in chapter 11 explores how Indian citizens of Chinese origin were affected by the Defence of India Act. The war triggered a specific form of ethnic nationalism which perceived India’s ethnic Chinese citizens – many of whom had lived in India for generations and had even intermarried with locals – as enemies and made them targets of brutal mob assaults. The Indian government itself not only denied fundamental rights to thousands of its own citizens but also deemed them alien nationals affiliated with an external enemy. The deportation into camps and the forcible expulsion of thousands of ethnic Chinese to the PRC occurred until 1967. Banerjee uses an emerging memoir literature to trace the experiences of those who were not deported but interned for many years. After their release in 1967, they not only were denied their citizen rights for a long period of time but also had to deal with the loss of property assets and broken professional careers. Jabin Jacob closes the volume with a review of how India’s China watchers, an important group shaping the public memory, perceived the Sino-Indian border war around the 50th anniversary in 2012 (chapter 12). In his view, the community of China watchers is divided into an older, well-trained generation of diplomats, army personnel and scholars who were involved in the events of 1962, and a younger group of less well-trained ‘opportunists’ who have seized the recent moment of renewed Indian interest in China to promote their own careers. By doing so, the second group, however, only feeds existing stereotypes, biases and suspicion about China. In 2012, public debates mostly focused on specific aspects of the Indian war experience or on questions of personal responsibility. Some of the public debates also were connected to long-standing antipathies among the contributors. In general, a systematic investigation into the causes, consequences and even the context of the war was still missing from India’s public arena. Unfortunately, the war itself also had not sparked a greater political or academic interest in China over the entire length of half a century since the war. While India’s younger generation in general sees greater opportunities in a better relationship with China, the country as a whole still has not overcome its collective trauma stemming from the defeat in 1962.

Notes 1 Alastair Lamb, Kashmir: A Disputed Legacy 1846–1990, Hertingfordbury: Roxford Books, 1991, pp. 23–4. 2 Steven A. Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990, pp. 14–15.

Introduction 23 3 Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, pp. 15–16. 4 Lamb, Kashmir, p. 70. 5 Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, p. 12. 6 Patrick French, Younghusband: The Last Great Imperial Adventurer, ­London: Harper Perennial, 2004, pp. 235–50. 7 Ministry of External Affairs Archives (MEAA), 3(5)-L/47, ‘Confidential report of the British Embassy in Nanking no. 968 (78/212/46) for Foreign Secretary Ernest Bevin’, 20 August 1946, Ralph Stevenson. 8 MEAA, 3(5)-L/47, ‘Report for Deputy Secretary External Affairs Department of the Government of India L.A.C. Fry’, 13 January 1947, Political Officer Sikkim Anthony J. Hopkinson. 9 National Archives of the United Kingdom (NAUK), Dominions Office (DO), 142/468, ‘Note’, 3 September 1948, Dominions Office, H.A.F. Rumboldt. 10 MEAA, 3(6)-L/47, ‘Letter to the British Indian Mission in Lhasa’, 11 January 1947, Political Agent Sikkim Anthony J. Hopkinson. 11 MEAA, 3(6)-L/47, ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 16 October 1947, Foreign Office Tibet. 12 NAUK, DO 142/468, ‘Circular letter sent to various map publishers’, November 1944, Ministry of Information. 13 Carolien Stolte, ‘ “The Asiatic hour”: new perspectives on the Asian Relations Conference, Delhi, 1947’, in Nataša Miškovic´ et al. (eds.), The Non-Aligned Movement and the Cold War: Delhi – Bandung – Belgrade, London: Routledge, 2014, p. 58. 14 NAUK, DO 142/468, ‘Letter to Commonwealth Relations Office, ­Donaldson’, 22 December 1947, UK High Commission Delhi, Lesly A.C. Fry. 15 NAUK, DO 142/468, ‘Letter to Commonwealth Relations Office, ­Donaldson’, 21 January 1948, UK High Commission Delhi, Lesly A.C. Fry. 16 Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd Series (SWJN2), vol. 15-II, pp. 331–2. Message to Zhou Enlai, 26 October 1950, Nehru. 17 NAUK, Foreign Office (FO), 371/75798, ‘Top secret memorandum “When China goes Communist” ’, 22 November 1948, Panikkar. 18 Chandrashekhar Dasgupta, ‘Nehru, Patel and China’, Strategic Analysis, 38(5), (September 2014), pp. 717–24. 19 Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India: A Strategic History of the Nehru Years, Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2010, pp. 235–6. 20 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 227–8. 21 ‘Answer to a question in parliament’, 20 November 1950, SWJN2, vol. 15-II, p. 348. 22 ‘Cable to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 2 October 1951, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 16-II, p. 643. 23 ‘Cable to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 12 April 1952, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 18, p. 471. 24 ‘Cable to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 24 May 1952, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 18, p. 473. 25 ‘Cable to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 16 June 1952, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 18, p. 474. 26 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 237. 27 ‘Cable to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 18 June 1952, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 18, p. 475.

24  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta 8 ‘Minutes of talks’, 10 October 1954, SWJN2, vol. 27, pp. 11–20. 2 29 ‘Note for Secretary General N.R. Pillai’, 1 January 1957, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 36, p. 614. 30 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 8 September 1959, Zhou, White Paper II, pp. 40–51. 31 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 23 January 1959, Zhou, White Paper I, pp. 52–5. 32 Report of the Officials of the Governments of India and the People’s Republic of China on the Boundary Question, Delhi: MEA, 1961. 33 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 271. 34 Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, pp. 95–6. 35 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 275–6. 36 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 286–7. 37 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 292–8. 38 NAUK, Defence Ministry (DEFE) 5/106, Secret, ‘The military threat to India and Pakistan from Communist China up to 1964’, 22 September 1960, Joint Intelligence Committee (Far East). 39 White Papers: Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged and Agreements Signed between the Governments of India and China, Delhi: Government of India, MEA, 1959–1968. 40 B.N. Mullik, My Years with Nehru: The Chinese Betrayal, Delhi: Allied Publishers, 1971. 41 Subimal Dutt, With Nehru in the Foreign Office, Calcutta: Minerva Associates, 1977. 42 Jagat S. Mehta, Negotiating for India: Resolving Problems through Diplomacy, Delhi: Manohar, 2007. 43 K. Krishna Rao, ‘The Sino-Indian boundary question and Interna tional Law’, The International and Comparative Law Quarterly, 11(2), (April 1962), pp. 375–415. 44 Margaret W. Fisher, Leo E. Rose, and Robert A. Huttenback, Himalayan Battleground: Sino-Indian Rivalry in Ladakh, New York: Praeger, 1963. 45 Alastair Lamb, The China-India Border: The Origins of Disputed Boundaries, London: Oxford University Press, 1964. 46 Parshotam Mehra, McMahon Line and After: A Study of the Triangular Contest on India’s North-Eastern Frontier between Britain, China and Tibet, 1904–47, Madras: Macmillan, 1974; Suchita Ghosh, Tibet in Sino-Indian Relations 1899–1914, Delhi: Sterling Publishers, 1977; A.G. Noorani, India-China Boundary Problem 1846–1947: History and Diplomacy, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2011. 47 D.K. Palit, War in the High Himalayas: The Indian Army in Crisis, 1962, London: Lancer International, 1991. 48 http://www.nevillemaxwell.com/TopSecretdocuments.pdf, accessed 20 August 2015. 49 Dorothy Woodman, Himalayan Frontiers: A Political Review of British, Chinese, Indian, and Russian Rivalries, London: Barrie & Rockliff, the Cresset Press, 1969. 50 Neville Maxwell, India’s China War, London: Cape, 1970. 51 Neville Maxwell, ‘Sino-Indian Border Dispute reconsidered’, Economic and Political Weekly, 10 April 1999, pp. 905–18.

Introduction 25 52 Liu Xuecheng, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute and Sino-Indian Relations, Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1994. 53 Karunakar Gupta, The Hidden History of the Sino-Indian Frontier, Calcutta: Minerva Associates, 1974. 54 Allen S. Whiting, The Chinese Calculus of Deterrence: India and Indochina, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1974. 55 M. Taylor Fravel, Strong Borders, Secure Nation: Cooperation and Conflict in China’s Territorial Disputes, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008. 56 Yacoov Y.I. Vertzberger, Misperceptions in Foreign Policy Making: The Sino-Indian Conflict 1959–1962, Boulder, CO: Westview Press, 1984. 57 Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis. 58 Raghavan, War and Peace. 59 Jayanta Kumar Ray, India’s Foreign Relations, 1947–2007, London: Routledge, 2011. 60 Claude Arpi, 1962 and the McMahon Line Saga, Delhi: Lancer, 2013. 61 Chen Tiqiang, ‘ZhongYin bianjie wenti de falü fangmian’ [‘Legal Aspects of Sino-Indian Border Questions’], Guoji wenti yanjoiu, 1982 (1), pp. 11–82; Jing Hui, ‘Youguan ZhongYin bianjie zhengduan de yixie qiangkuang he beijing’ [‘On the Circumstances and Background of the Sino-Indian Border Disputes’], Guoji wenti yanjiu, 1986 (2), pp. 1–8. 62 Dangdai Zhongguo congshu bianjibu bianji [Contemporary China Series Editorial Department, ed.], Dangdai Zhongguo waijiao [Foreign Relations of Contemporary China], Beijing: Zhongguo shehui kexue chubanshe chubanshe, 1988, pp. 173–86. 63 Shi Bo, ZhongYin dazhan jishi [Record of China-India War], Beijing: Dadi chubanshe, 1993. 64 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP Central Documents Research Office, ed.], Zhou Enlai nianpu, 1949–1976 [A Chronicle of Zhou Enlai’s Life: 1949–1976], 3 vols., Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1997; Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP Central Documents Research Office, ed.], Mao Zedong nianpu, 1949–1976 [A Chronicle of Mao Zedong’s Life, 1949–1976], 6 vols., Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2013. 65 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP Central Documents Research Office, ed.], Zhou Enlai zhuan [A Biography of Zhou Enlai], 2 vols., Beijing: Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1998; Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP Central Documents Research Office, ed.], Mao Zedong zhuan (1949–1976), 2 vols., Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2003. 66 Xu Yan, ZhongYin bvianjie zhizhan lishi zhenxiang [True History of the Sino-Indian Border War], Hong Kong: Tiandi tushu gongsi, 1993; Wang Hongwei, Xima layasan qingjie: ZhongYin guanxi yanjiu [The Sentiment of the Himalayas: A Study of China-Indian Relations], Beijing: Zhongguo zangxue chubanshe, 1998. 67 Dai Chaowu, ‘ZhongYin bianjie chongtu yu Sulian de fanying he zhengce’ [‘The Sino-Indian Conflict and the Soviet Response and Policy’], Lishi yanjiu, (3), (2003), pp. 58–79; Dai Chaowu, ‘Guanyu 1962nian ZhongYin bianjie chongtu he ZhongSu fenlie yanjou de ruodan wenti’ [‘Questions about 1962 Sino-Indian Conflict and the Sino-Soviet Split’], Dangdai shijie yu yanjiu, (4), (2010), pp. 180–5; Shen Zhihua, ‘Nanyi mihe de liehen: Sulian dui

26  Lorenz M. Lüthi and Amit R. Das Gupta ZhongYin chongtu de lichang yiji ZhongSu fenqi gongkaihua (1959–1960)’ [‘A Crack Hard to Be Closed: The Soviet Stand toward the Sino-Indian Border Clashes and Open Divergences in Sino-Soviet Relations, 1959–1960’], Qinghua daxue xuebao (zhexue shehui kexue), (6), (2009), pp. 5–27. 68 Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 1st and 2nd Series, New Delhi: Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, various years. 69 Zhonghua Renmin Gongheguo Waijiaobu [MOFA; Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the People’s Republic of China, Beijing]. 70 Rossisskii gosudarstvennyi arkhiv noveishei istorii [RGANI; Russian State Archive of Contemporary History, Moscow]; Rossiiskii Gosudarstvennyi Arkhiv Ekonomiki [RGAE; Russian State Archive of the Economy, Moscow]. 71 A.A. Fursenko, ed., Prezidium TsK KPSS, 1954–1964 [Presidium of the CC of the CPSU, 1954–1964], 3 vols., Moskva: Rosspen, 2003–2008. Various issues of Istochnik. 72 Stiftung Archiv der Parteien und Massenorganisationen der DDR im Bundesarchiv [Archive of the Parties and Mass Organizations of the GDR in the Federal Archives (Foundation)]; Politisches Archiv des Auswärtigen Amtes, Bestand: Ministerium für Auswärtige Angelegenheiten [Political Archive of the Office for Foreign Affairs, Files: Ministry for Foreign Affairs of the former GDR]; Národní archive [National Archive, Prague]. 73 Arhiv Jugoslavije [Archive of Yugoslavia, Belgrade]. Diplomatski arhiv Ministarstva spoljnih poslova Srbije [Diplomatic Archives of the Serbian Foreign Ministry, Belgrade]. 74 National Archives and Records Administration, Washington, DC, and College Park, MD]; National Archives of the United Kingdom. 75 United States. Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States, Washington, DC: U.S. Government Printing Office, various years. 76 Institut für Zeitgeschichte, ed., Akten zur Auswärtigen Politik der Bundesrepublik Deutschland, several vols., München: R. Oldenbourg, various years. 77 National Archives of Australia; Library and Archives Canada. 78 Schweizerisches Bundesarchiv [Swiss Federal Archive].

Part 1

Bilateral perspectives

1 India’s relations with China, 1945–74 Lorenz M. Lüthi

After World War II, India and China played in a class of themselves among Afro-Asian countries. No other country in the decolonized world could match them in terms of territory; given their respective populations, they even were the two largest in the world. From an Indian viewpoint, the People’s Republic of China (PRC) was the source of some hope but also much mistrust, fear and frustration. While the two countries shared the historical experience of colonialism and the struggle against it, they choose to establish different socio-economic and political systems in the late 1940s. India’s relationship with Communist China was fraught by two major problems. Almost from the very beginning, Tibet and the problematic border situation in the Himalayas were on the minds of Indian government leaders. And, then, Pakistan imposed itself as a second irritant in the bilateral relationship. In a quarter century, India’s relationship with the PRC went through three distinct phases: the unfolding of the relationship until 1957, the road to war in the Himalayas and beyond in the period from 1958 to 1965 and the final decade of India’s attempts to manage China’s relative rise in international relations.

India’s relations with China, 1945–57 As soon as Jawaharlal Nehru was released from prison in mid-1945 after three years of incarceration for anti-colonial activities, he pondered India’s role in international relations. The prime minister-in-waiting had no doubt that India was a great power, destined to lead the colonized world to independence.1 At the same time, he was convinced that India and China would assume their rightful great power positions as permanent United Nations (UN) Security Council members alongside the United States and the Soviet Union.2 It was against this background that Nehru demanded UN membership for the newly established PRC in 1949. He considered New China’s

30  Lorenz M. Lüthi exclusion from the United Nations not only counterproductive but also a violation of the organization’s spirit.3 At the same time, the prime minister called the continued membership of the Republic of China (ROC) of Taiwan – including the permanent seat in the Security Council – ‘farcical’.4 Despite the border conflict that started a decade later, India never disputed Communist China’s entitlement to UN membership and the permanent seat. When the United States proposed in 1950 for India to replace the ROC in the council, and the Soviet Union suggested in 1955 a 6th permanent seat for India, Nehru declined to consider either, asserting that India would discuss this issue only after the PRC had replaced the ROC in the United Nations.5 During Nehru’s visit to Moscow in mid-1955, the Soviet leader Nikita S. Khrushchev proposed to convene a six-power conference – bringing together what the Indian prime minister considered the four legitimate permanent Security Council members plus the PRC and India – which was supposed to discuss pertinent issues in international affairs.6 Nehru, however, ‘replied that in his view the time was not yet ripe’ for such a meeting.7 The two proposals and Nehru’s twofold rejection are remarkable in several aspects. First, they testify to the great international reputation which India enjoyed in the first half of the 1950s.8 Indeed, Delhi had twice organized an Arab-Asian relations conference in the late 1940s, and was an important convenor, though not host, of the Afro-Asian conference in Bandung in 1955.9 Concurrently, Nehru had defined and established the idea of non-alignment that helped to position India between the superpower blocs as mediator while it rejected acquiring nuclear weapons on moral grounds.10 Nehru’s rejection of both proposals also reveals two implicit assumptions on his part: first, that the PRC would replace the ROC in the United Nations in the future, and second, that India’s continued reputation in international affairs would lead to a renewal of these offers. India’s principled position with regard to PRC representation in the United Nations did not, however, include an endorsement of Communist China’s domestic or foreign policies. With the foundation of the PRC, Nehru was convinced that ‘all kinds of new problems arise’.11 The prime minister worried about the possibility of expansionist tendencies in the foreign policy of New China.12 Just as India was establishing its own democracy, the ‘totalitarian creed’ of the Communist neighbour troubled him deeply.13 Yet, even before the foundation of the PRC, he had stressed that India had to respect the Chinese choice of government, ‘whether we like it not’.14 Enthusiastic reports from the Indian embassy in Beijing in the early 1950s about China’s ‘general feeling . . . of great friendship with India’ caused him hope that his fears about a rising Communist China, may be, had been mislaid.15

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 31 Still, in the wake of the war with Pakistan over Kashmir in 1947–48, Nehru started to emphasize the ‘new importance’ of the territory south of the McMahon Line (at the eastern sector of the border), which would become the Northeast Frontier Agency (NEFA; today’s Arunachal Pradesh province) in 1951.16 In late 1950, with the start of the Chinese Communist military occupation of Tibet in the wake of the Chinese intervention in the Korean War, Beijing’s actions in Tibet became ‘incomprehensible’ to Nehru, and he himself even ‘more frontier-conscious’.17 It was in this context that he reconsidered Indian trading and military privileges in Tibet that dated back to the British colonial period.18 The maintenance of such rights, he would write in 1954, was against the essence of India’s anti-imperialism.19 While unhappy about the Chinese occupation of Tibet in October 1950, the prime minister, however, was not really bothered by the appearance of battle-hardened Chinese troops north of the Himalayan crest line.20 Attacking India from this ‘icy wilderness’ would be ‘foolish’, Nehru wrote as late as mid-1952.21 Yet, at the same time, Nehru grew alarmed over the possibility of Tibet becoming a source of Sino-Indian conflict. Girja Shankar Bajpai, the first secretary general of India’s foreign ministry, had become deeply concerned about the emergence of Sino-Indian conflict over Tibet in November 1950 but wondered a year later whether or not it was advantageous to raise the issue with the PRC as long as the Korean War was still going on.22 Against the background of China’s concurrent intervention in the Indochina conflict, the Indian government in early May 1952 publicly warned the PRC that any ‘aggression in Burma, Siam [Thailand] or Malaya [Malaysia] would be treated as war-like’, and promised military support for the three South Asian nations.23 Still, as Bajpai told US Ambassador Chester Bowles later that month, ‘India would continue to talk softly on subject [of] Communist China because [of the] common long boundary and fear of Chinese aggression [in] south East Asia’.24 In October, Nehru grew additionally concerned ‘about the way [the] Chinese had been negotiating’ with the United States during ‘the last months’ of talks on the termination of the Korean War.25 After China’s Prime Minister Zhou Enlai suddenly had offered to negotiate on India’s relations with Tibet on 14 June 1952, Nehru read into the absence of any reference to the McMahon Line an implicit Chinese attempt to renegotiate what he considered a settled issue.26 According to the US Ambassador Chester Bowles who regularly met Nehru, the Indian prime minister started to fear that his country had ‘only two alternatives’ – ‘to build up a military force which would enable her to speak on terms of equality with China, or to seek a modus vivendi for co-existence with China’. For political and economic reasons, Nehru doubted that the first was feasible. Since he also was convinced that China’s contemporaneous

32  Lorenz M. Lüthi foreign policy, in particular in Korea and Indochina, was tied to Soviet expansionist policies, he aimed for India ‘to loosen’ these bonds with the goal of Sino-Indian ‘co-existence’.27 On 1 August 1953, four days after the end of the three-year-long Korean War, Nehru observed the general ‘lessening of tension’ in the global Cold War.28 A month later, he proposed to China negotiations on Tibet; his communication to Beijing implied that no border disputes existed.29 Yet, while he soon came to admit to himself that the McMahon Line had come to India ‘during British rule’, he was not willing to raise border issues because he seemingly did not want to awaken sleeping dogs.30 The Sino-Indian Agreement on Tibet, which was signed in Beijing on 29 April 1954 after almost four months of negotiations, was an odd mixture of technical agreements and lofty principles. In the six articles codifying trade and pilgrimages, India renounced the old British privileges in Tibet. The preamble, however, contained what became known as Panch Sheel, the five principles of peaceful co-existence between India and China.31 Apart from the mutual promise to respect each other’s sovereignty, the agreement did not delineate the borderlines itself but defined six entry points into Tibet for Indian pilgrims at the McMahon Line. Nehru probably saw the articles and the preamble as a single unit, by which India gave up its rights in Tibet while the PRC recognized de facto the McMahon Line.32 Nehru’s desire to accommodate China was related to his perceived need of both solving bilateral problems and binding the PRC into the international system. With the Tibet Agreement, he hoped that Sino-Indian rapprochement would help draw China away from its Cold War ally, the Soviet Union.33 Thus, he insisted on the invitation of the PRC to the Afro-Asian Conference, scheduled for April in 1955.34 During the conference, Nehru observed with satisfaction how Zhou’s conciliatory behaviour helped to establish the PRC in the decolonizing world.35 Sino-Indian rapprochement was crowned by a series of Chinese state visits to India at the turn of 1956/57. Among other issues, Nehru and Zhou discussed the Sino-Indian border, particularly after the PRC had printed maps showing NEFA as a part of China.36 According to Indian documents, the guest confessed that he had not been aware of the ‘McMahon Line’ for a long time. Although he rejected its ‘British imperialist’ provenance,37 he was willing to ‘accept it’ as an ‘accomplished fact’.38 While the two sides were willing to discuss at least the border situation in the eastern sector, they did not even touch the border problems at the western sector.

Towards war and beyond, 1958–65 Soon, the Sino-Indian relationship cooled down, however. The sharp ­Chinese ideological attacks on Yugoslavia in 1958 irritated Nehru, not

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 33 only because they targeted a close non-aligned friend but also because they seemed to contradict the spirit of Panch Sheel.39 Simultaneously, Beijing published brandnew maps that claimed both NEFA at the eastern sector and Aksai Chin at the western sector.40 Nehru had known since at least May 1956 that the PRC were using Aksai Chin as a strategic communication and transport link between Xinjiang and Tibet.41 In a letter to Zhou in December 1958, he raised the issue of unresolved borders by pointing out that they had agreed on the McMahon Line two years earlier.42 To Nehru’s surprise, the Chinese prime minister bluntly denied a month later any border agreement.43 The Tibetan Uprising in March 1959 further undermined the relationship. The young Dalai Lama, Tibet’s theocratic leader, sought asylum in India in April but Nehru, in order not to alienate the PRC, decided to keep him isolated despite an upswell of support for the illustrious refugee in Indian public opinion.44 For most of the month, the Indian leader walked a ‘delicate’ line between dealing with the Dalai Lama, placating public opinion and trying to keep relations with the PRC unscathed.45 By late April, Nehru became the target of Chinese propaganda, which accused him of collaborating with British imperialism.46 The Chinese leaders, he concluded, ‘had lost all balance’.47 The skirmishes that started at the McMahon Line in August 1959 were a consequence of the uprising, even if smaller scuffles had occurred for years. With both sides sending troops to the disputed borders after the uprising, the probability for violent clashes multiplied.48 This sudden turn of events made the prime minister ‘introspective’, given that it seemed to prove the ‘failure’ of his policy of accommodation.49 ‘India and China have fallen out’, Nehru reported to his chief ministers, ‘and the future appears to be one of continuing tension’.50 Nehru’s initial reaction was to strengthen South Asian partnerships. He reconfirmed existing commitments to defend Bhutan, Sikkim and Nepal.51 Delhi also sought rapprochement with Rawalpindi, offering talks about divided Kashmir.52 In October, the Indian prime minister met his Burmese colleague Ne Win to discuss the McMahon Line, which comprised the entire length of their combined borders with China.53 The Burmese leader warned Nehru to use the term ‘McMahon Line’ in negotiations with the PRC, because it was a ‘red flag of [the] imperialist past in the face of [the] Chinese bull’. In concurrent border negotiations, Ne Win claimed, China was making many compromises and had essentially accepted the ‘McMahon Line’ – as long as it was called the ‘traditional border’.54 But Nehru’s attempts to marshal India’s neighbours ultimately failed because the PRC signed generous border agreements with Burma and Nepal in early 1960.55 The Indian memoranda of the Zhou–Nehru conversations in Delhi from 20 to 25 April 1960 revealed that the Chinese prime minister had

34  Lorenz M. Lüthi come to India to propose a deal. NEFA was to go to India, but the much smaller Aksai Chin, which was strategically crucial to China, to the PRC. But Nehru was unwilling to bargain.56 His mistrust of Chinese motives, concurrent Indian public opinion and constitutional clauses, which made any transfer of territory dependent on approval by a super majority in the Indian parliament, left him with little room to manoeuvre.57 Still, despite his own firmness, Nehru publicly called Zhou a ‘hard rock’ soon after the Chinese guest had departed.58 In the following two and a half years, Nehru seemingly was not concerned about the possibility of major military conflict in Himalayas. Beyond ‘shouting at each other, not much would happen’ there, he told Australian diplomats in June 1962.59 A British defence assessment from August 1960 supported this assessment; geographical and logistical difficulties would make it ‘unlikely’ for the Chinese to ‘enforce their claims by full scale military actions’.60 After the failure of low-ranking border talks by late 1960, India decided to implement a policy of establishing armed posts where it claimed its border at NEFA and Aksai Chin was. By mid-1962, this Forward Policy and corresponding Chinese measures had led to the spatial entanglement of Indian and Chinese posts that triggered armed skirmishes.61 By the fall of 1962, Nehru’s optimistic assessment about the situation in the Himalayas started to look bleak. Just one day before the Chinese attack on 20 October, India’s Defence Minister V.K. Krishna Menon admitted to his ‘black mood’ about China’s military build-up north of the Himalayan crest line.62 In the face of Beijing’s massive military attack starting the following day, Delhi turned to Washington, London, Moscow and other friendly capitals for emergency arms supplies.63 Eventually, 40 states offered military or other assistance, which testified to India’s continued standing in international affairs.64 However, what motivated many Western, socialist, non-aligned and Afro-Asian countries to support India was general antipathy towards Communist China but not intimate knowledge about Sino-Indian border issues.65 While Pakistan, too, initially feared a Chinese attack,66 the sudden promises of military aid to the neighbour made it less amendable to engage in negotiations over Kashmir.67 This change in position did not go unnoticed in Delhi; Nehru compared Pakistan to a ‘jackal going to clean up after the tiger’s kill’.68 Indeed, during the war, the Muslim country negotiated secretly with the Chinese Communist power on their borders.69 On 27 December 1962, the day on which official Pakistani-Indian talks on Kashmir – induced by Western pressure – were supposed to start, Beijing and Rawalpindi announced a tentative border agreement that covered that disputed territory as well.70 Delhi was aghast. In early January, Nehru confirmed India’s desire ‘to have good relations with . . . China and Pakistan.

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 35 But it does not mean that any country can humiliate us or force us to accept anything at the cost of national prestige and honour’.71 While the Sino-Indian border war had helped to solidify India’s position in the world, the subsequent three years witnessed a slow erosion of the country’s international standing. From the Indian point of view, the war with China in late 1962 threatened to damage Delhi’s reputation in the decolonizing world. The country’s turn to the superpowers seemed to undermine Nehru’s definition of non-alignment. Even if other non-aligned countries, like Yugoslavia and Egypt, had received military aid from the superpowers, Nehru in 1954 had defined Indian non-alignment in rigid terms: even military aid from the superpowers constituted alignment.72 PRC propaganda thus could emphasize in late 1962 that ‘India Sheds the Cloak of Non Alignment’.73 Despite the fact that Nehru denied in late 1962 that his request of military aid violated his own long-standing positions,74 the Indian diplomat R.K. Nehru confirmed that the war indeed touched on questions of status: ‘China saw India as its chief rival for the leadership of Asia and was out to . . . strip her of influence among non-aligned countries.’75 In the wake of the war, the Sino-Indian enmity imposed itself onto the competition between the Afro-Asian Movement and its non-aligned ­sibling. At the 15th anniversary meeting of the UN General Assembly in the fall of 1960, Yugoslav President Josip Broz Tito had called for a gathering of the non-aligned nations (which was eventually convened ­ in September 1961 in Belgrade),76 followed by Indonesia in December demanding a 2nd Bandung Conference (which did not occur).77 Despite his earlier doubts about the usefulness of the Non-Aligned Movement,78 Nehru in 1963 decided to engage with it more closely – at the expense of the Afro-Asian sibling which he had helped to spawn in the late 1940s.79 Following the collapse of Sino-Soviet talks on their ideological disagreements in Moscow in mid-year, the PRC refocused its foreign policy on the decolonizing world.80 Zhou’s extended trip through the Middle East and Africa at the turn of 1963/64 was supposed to marshal support for a 2nd Bandung Conference.81 Egypt, Ceylon and Yugoslavia, which all were close to India, countered by calling for a non-aligned preparatory conference in Colombo for late March 1964, designed ‘to bury . . . the prospects of a Bandung Conference’.82 The increasingly pro-Chinese Indonesia took up the challenge by calling for an Afro-Asian preparatory meeting to convene in Jakarta three weeks later.83 Six weeks before his death on 27 May 1964, Nehru engaged with Zhou in one last diplomatic struggle, though only by proxy. Closely managing the Indian delegation in Jakarta from Delhi, he evidently was willing to dispense a poisonous pill to the Afro-Asian Movement for the purpose of

36  Lorenz M. Lüthi undermining China’s standing.84 Against the background of the Sino-Soviet rift, he instructed his delegation to insist on the invitation of the Soviet Union (which had not been summoned to the original conference in 1955) as an Asian country to the 2nd Afro-Asian Conference scheduled for 1965.85 The devious move was successful; the preparatory conference decided to keep the issue alive – to China’s fury.86 Following the first successful Chinese nuclear test on 16 October 1964, Beijing, however, seemed to get the upper hand over Delhi. The enthusiastic reaction among Afro-Asian countries about the first non-white, ‘Asian’, ‘Afro-Asian’ or ‘peace’ bomb, as it was variously called, spurred China to try to impose its radical anti-American, anti-Soviet and anti-Indian positions unto the movement.87 The PRC thereby collaborated closely with the designated conference host – Algeria – and two countries hostile to India – Pakistan and Indonesia.88 Yet, within a year, China had destroyed the Afro-Asian movement as a result of its radical positions that had emerged between 1962 and the start of the Cultural Revolution in 1966.89 Although Nehru thereby won the fight against Zhou posthumously, Delhi’s passionate political bickering with Beijing and Rawalpindi turned out to be bruising for India, too. An internal government report in late 1965 warned of ‘the danger that India may become more and more isolated both in the countries of Asia and Africa. . . . It is, therefore, important for India to think seriously how she can counteract these trends’.90 Moreover, the good relationship with the United States, which the Chinese attack on India in 1962 had helped to establish, eventually soured over the massive American escalation of the Vietnam War in 1964–65, political strings which Washington attached to grain deliveries to Delhi and the short Indo-Pakistan war in the fall of 1965.91

The United Nations and nuclear weapons, 1964–74 After the Chinese a-bomb test in mid-October 1964, Delhi faced the double problem of diminished status in relation to Beijing and endangered national security. Communist China’s nuclear achievement seemed to open up a path for the PRC to great power status. In line with Cuba’s Fidel Castro, Algeria’s Ben Bella and even American and Canadian government officials, Delhi’s leaders realized that the successful nuclear test increased PRC’s chances to replace the ROC in the United Nations, including in the Security Council.92 In the wake of the test, Beijing itself raised the issue, but got nowhere.93 The ensuing Indian debate about status and security focused on nuclear weapons. Although India had developed nuclear capabilities since the 1950s, Nehru until his death in 1964 had rejected the establishment of

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 37 an Indian a-bomb programme.94 Yet, even he had understood, as early as 1954, the implicit connection between great power status and nuclear weapons, but continued to reject the Indian acquisition of such weapons on moral grounds.95 Although nuclear weapons had not been a subject in the Indian public debate until after the Chinese test, in the years immediately beforehand, some politicians had argued that, since India was a great power, it needed nuclear weapons as an ostentatious status marker.96 The father of India’s nuclear programme, Homi Bhabha, in comparison, had proposed in early 1964, that is, before the first Chinese test, the development of Indian nuclear weapons as deterrence against the PRC. Under both the impression of the first Chinese bomb in mid-October and the public pressure it had generated, Nehru’s short-lived successor Lal Bahadur Shastri authorized late that year the technological process that would eventually lead to India’s first nuclear test almost a decade later.97 As a stopgap measure, India initially hoped to get a nuclear guarantee against China from the United States. But in the wake of the faltering of bilateral relations in late 1965, Shastri’s successor Indira Gandhi re-focused on the Indian bomb project.98 Against this background, she instructed, in April 1968, her representative in the negotiations on the Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty (to be signed on 1 July) to announce India’s refusal to accede: ‘We cannot fail to notice that out of five nuclear weapons powers, two will not be signatories to it. . . . one of the non-signatories is our neighbour, namely, China, who is full of hostile intentions towards our country. It [the PRC] is not subject to the discipline which arises from membership of the United Nations.’99 In the wake of China’s accession to the United Nations in October 1971, India’s international environment worsened once more. All declared nuclear weapons powers were now permanent UN Security Council members, and vice versa.100 The PRC had entered the organization in lieu of the ROC following the public announcement of Sino-American rapprochement – which Pakistani mediation and logistical support had facilitated – in July of 1971.101 Although the PRC now was under the ‘discipline’ of the international organization, it quickly used its elevated position against India. Despite the long history of Delhi’s principled support of Beijing’s quest for UN membership, the PRC cast its very first veto against India.102 Against the background of the extended civil war in Eastern Pakistan between the national government dominated by Western Pakistani elites and the local independence movement that had won general elections in late 1970 with a clear majority, India intervened with military force and thereby caused the breakup of its bi-territorial Muslim neighbour and long-time antagonist.103 In a series of Security Council votes on 5 December 1971, Beijing vetoed Moscow’s draft censuring Islamabad, and the Soviet Union vetoed an

38  Lorenz M. Lüthi American resolution draft, supported by China, that condemned India.104 Deadlocked, the council passed the task to the General Assembly, which adopted, on 7 December, a resolution along the lines of the vetoed US draft. Only the socialist states and Bhutan voted against it, thereby expressing support for India.105 The international condemnation of India, which the United States and the PRC headed, left Delhi ‘bewildered’,106 especially since it was convinced that its intervention in Eastern Pakistan was a blessing for peace.107 Despite strenuous diplomatic efforts by Indira Gandhi and her cabinet throughout much of 1971, India had not been able to convince the world about the brutal nature of the Pakistani military campaign in Eastern Pakistan, which had caused millions of refugees to seek safety in eastern India.108 Delhi also repeatedly – but without success – asserted in December that the majority of UN members had failed to acknowledge the ‘root cause’ of the conflict, and that India’s primary military goal was to stop Pakistan’s ‘brutal’ actions.109 Even close long-time friends did not come out in support. Non-aligned Yugoslavia objected to the creation of Bangladesh.110 Muslim countries in the non-aligned world, including the long-time friend Egypt, had failed to protest against Pakistani misbehaviour in the eastern half of that country throughout 1971, but were quick to accuse India of breaking up a fellow Muslim nation.111 The emergence of India as the undisputed dominant power of South Asia following its intervention in East Pakistan made many countries in the region uneasy, too.112 Delhi’s defiance of several resolutions by the General Assembly in December 1971 caused the ‘isolation of India from many of its traditional friends and, in particular, the break with the United States’.113 In February 1972, insult came to injury when US President Richard Nixon visited the PRC. The highly symbolic rapprochement between two countries, which also happened to be the major backers of Pakistan, had been scheduled months before India even had decided to intervene in East Pakistan. In reality, Nixon’s visit was largely connected to both the shared Sino-American enmity towards the Soviet Union and the concurrent Vietnam War.114 Still, Delhi was deeply troubled that the United States had substituted its long-held policy of ‘ “containment” of China’ with ‘accommodation’ – a policy which India itself had unsuccessfully pursued in the 1950s. An Indian foreign ministry report came to the conclusion that the visit was a strategic anti-Soviet and anti-Indian move designed both to exclude Moscow and Delhi from the solution of international problems, like the Indochina War, and to hamper India’s attempts to find a modus vivendi with Pakistan.115 In April of 1972, Indira Gandhi took the principal decision to test a nuclear device after the bomb project had fallen dormant in 1969 for

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 39 reasons related to domestic politics.116 Given the dearth of Indian primary sources, remarkably little is known about her motivations that led to the single nuclear test on 18 May 1974.117 In all likelihood, they included a mixture of considerations about the international context, domestic causes and bureaucratic momentum.118 The Indian press reacted with enthusiasm to the unannounced test, proclaiming that it had ‘made India into a great power in the world’.119 Responding to the ‘arrogance’ with which the great powers had criticized the test, Gandhi herself publicly asserted that ‘India, which was until sometime back a slave country, had the audacity to stand in line with them’.120 One historian of India’s nuclear programme concluded that the test was a symbol of India’s ultimate rise to post-colonial modernity and greatness.121 The UN and Soviet leaders saw the test both in terms of an Indian claim to a sixth permanent Security Council seat and as a reaction to the Chinese nuclear threat since 1964, respectively.122 The US government too perceived it in terms of international ‘prestige’ and ‘national security’.123 But since India neither conducted additional tests – which would have been required to develop a useable warhead – for another two decades nor possessed the necessary delivery systems at the time,124 the single test, officially dubbed a ‘peaceful explosion’, pointed to the desire for great power status in the world.125 Indeed, the following year, India campaigned for a non-permanent seat in the Security Council for the 1976–77 term after it had already occupied one in the 1972–73 period. China, the United States and the Islamic world opposed – successfully, in the end – this bid since they feared that it would lead to a de facto ‘semi-permanent’ seat for India in alternate two-year periods.126 Unlike after the Chinese test a decade before when half of the world welcomed the Chinese bomb, the international reaction in 1974 was mainly hostile. The United States was concerned about the possibility that the Indian test might set off nuclear weapons programmes in Pakistan and other countries in the Afro-Asian-Latin American world.127 Canada and Japan, two of India’s closest scientific and economic partners, announced the suspension of their collaborative programmes.128 Yugoslavia, a long-standing Indian friend and advocate of nuclear disarmament and non-proliferation, was deeply disappointed by India’s break from earlier, Nehruvian and non-aligned commitments not to pursue nuclear weapons.129 And Pakistan used the fear of a Hindu a-bomb at the 5th Islamic Conference in June 1974 to prod 37 Muslim countries, all from the Afro-Asian world, to demand guarantees from the United Nations against ‘nuclear threats to non-nuclear countries’.130 The Soviet Union, India’s most important partner since 1971, was one of the few states that refused to join the international choir of condemnation,

40  Lorenz M. Lüthi asserting, though not in public, that a single nuclear test did not make India into a nuclear weapons power.131 Yet, its foreign minister Andrei Gromyko admitted to British diplomats that the test was an ‘unwelcome development’, given the ongoing international attempts to curb nuclear proliferation.132 Equally, the PRC dismissed the test ‘as of little significance’, but quickly responded with one of its own.133 Paradoxically, China’s strategic doctrine at the time was to endorse nuclear proliferation as the only avenue to break the pre-eminent international status of the other nuclear powers – the United States, the Soviet Union, Great Britain and France.134

Conclusion Nehru’s India started into independence with the self-perception of being a great power. His policy towards the Afro-Asian world and his commitment to non-alignment underscored this claim, even triggering American and Soviet proposals of formal great power recognition as a permanent member of the UN Security Council. Since 1945, this self-perception had been married to a view of equality with the other great Afro-Asian nation – China. The victory of the Chinese Communists in the Civil War in 1949 did not change the assessment of shared great power status and equality. Thus, when the PRC attacked in October 1962, it triggered Indian insecurities about the country’s status, as Delhi feared that Beijing was out to topple it from its pre-eminent position in decolonizing the world. This perception fuelled, to a certain degree, Indian policies after the Chinese bomb test in 1964, even if the PRC quickly gambled away the Afro-Asian enthusiasm about its nuclear achievement. Again, in February 1972, Delhi suffered from fears that the Sino-American rapprochement was designed to exclude India from world politics and hamper its interests in South Asia. From the very beginning, Nehru struggled to understand Communist China; he entertained a general mistrust, rooted in his anti-Communist default positions. Delhi was irritated by the contradictory signals which it received from Beijing since the early 1950s with regard to the borders. Furthermore, the Himalayan borders themselves, including Tibet, posed a colonial legacy that turned out to be difficult to disentangle. India experienced the Chinese attack over these unsettled borders in 1962 as a humiliation, only to be augmented shortly afterwards by the announcement of the Sino-Pakistani agreement on the borderline at Pakistani-occupied Kashmir. The war itself did not undermine India’s good standing in the world – on the contrary. What started to isolate India was the subsequent imposition of the Sino-Indian enmity unto the Afro-Asian and non-aligned world and related developments. China’s accession to the United Nations marked yet another important point in the development of India’s trajectory in international affairs. In the

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 41 mid-1950s, Delhi had tried to bind the PRC into the world through the principles of Panch Sheel in the Tibet Agreement and the invitation to the Bandung Conference. But once the PRC was bound into the outside world in 1971 (though for reasons unrelated to India), it helped to humiliate the South Asian nation during the East Pakistan crisis and, at least in India’s perception, through rapprochement with the United States in February 1972. Nuclear weapons thus were an avenue, maybe the only one, to get even with the PRC in international relations. The war of 1962 greatly enhanced Sino-Indian hostility, helped to establish a closer Sino-Pakistani relationship, caused sharp conflict in the Afro-Asian world, made India more sensitive towards its status and security and had a long-term impact on the international reaction to the Eastern Pakistan crisis. This all raises the question as to what India could have done to avoid war in 1962 and its consequences. Nehru had strong moral and practical reasons to assert that Mainland China, regardless of its internal set-up, had a legitimate claim to UN membership and the permanent seat. Yet, tying Indian claims for a permanent seat to the prior fulfilment of Chinese claims is a peculiar policy choice. Against the background of his early mistrust of Communist China, Nehru eventually chose a policy of accommodation that probably had no viable alternative. A more assertive policy towards the PRC in the early 1950s, including maybe military containment, would have required enormous material resources that India did not possess. Even the United States gave up on its two-decade-long policy of containment of China in the early 1970s because, among other reasons, it simply could no longer afford it. Paradoxically, once India chose some form of the military containment in 1961–62, it quickly faced a massive Chinese attack. Given the tangled colonial legacy of the Himalayan borders (and the concurrent quarrel with Pakistan over Kashmir), a focused and self-assured negotiation policy on the borders in the 1950s – including a compromise deal along the lines of Zhou’s proposal from 1960 – might have prevented the war. However, such a course of action would have required India’s preparedness – in political, bureaucratic or other terms – to negotiate about the borders as well as the Chinese willingness and readiness to join in.

Notes 1 ‘India’s lead in Asian liberation’, 29 October 1945, Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 1st series (SWJN1), vol. 14, New Delhi: Orient Longman, 1981, pp. 459–60. 2 ‘The limits of self-determination’, 2 August 1945, SWJN1, vol. 14, pp. 441–2; ‘India’s Foreign Policy’, 8 March 1948, SWNJ2, vol. 5, p. 496.

42  Lorenz M. Lüthi 3 ‘Exclusion of some countries from the U.N.’, 5 May 1950, SWJN2, vol. 14-II, p. 437. 4 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 1 March 1950, SWJN2, vol. 14-I, p. 410. 5 Anton Harder, ‘Not at the Cost of China: New Evidence Regarding US Proposals to Nehru for Joining the United Nations Security Council’, CWIHP Working Paper 76 (March 2015). See also numerous documents: National Archives of the United Kingdom (NAUK), DO 35/7131. 6 Bundesarchiv Licherfelde – Stiftung Archiv Parteien und Massenorganisationen (SAPMO-Barch), NY 4090/474. 7 NAUK, PREM 11/919, ‘Secret’, 10 July 1970. 8 For a British evaluation of India’s influence in the world, see: NAUK, DO 35/7131, ‘Annex A: India’s claim to a permanent seat’, July 1956. 9 Asian Relations Organization, Asian Relations, Being Report of the Proceedings and Documentation of the First Asian Relations Conference, New Delhi, March–April, 1947, New Delhi: Asian Relations Organization, 1948. India, Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, Publications Division, ed., The Conference on Indonesia, January 20–23, 1949, Delhi: United, 1949. 10 Lorenz M. Lüthi, ‘Non-Alignment, 1946-65: Its Formation and Struggle against Afro-Asianism’, Humanity, 7(2) (Summer 2016), pp. 201–23. 11 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 16 February 1950, Jawaharlal Nehru, Letters to Chief Ministers 1947–1964, vol. 2, 1950–1952, New Delhi: Oxford University, 1986, p. 27. 12 ‘To Thakin Nu’, 8 February 1950, SWJN2, vol. 14, pp. 547–8. 13 As Nehru told the Americans, who immediately reported it to the Australians: National Archives of Australia (NAA), Series A1838, 169/11/87 PART 2, ‘India Foreign Policy and Mr. Nehru’, 16 August 1952. 14 ‘My dear Premier’, 15 August 1949, Letters, vol. 1, p. 434. 15 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 30 May 1950, Letters, vol. 2, p. 116. 16 ‘Importance of the North-East Frontier’, 25 July 1949, SWJN2, vol. 12, p. 431 (quote); ‘Role of Chinese officials in Lhasa’, 26 July 1949, SWJN2, vol. 12, p. 411. 17 ‘To K.M. Pannikar’, 25 October 1950, SWJN2, vol. 15-I, p. 440; ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 17 November 1950, Letters, vol. 2, pp. 267–8. 18 Mentioned in: ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 2 August 1952, SWNJ2, vol. 19, p. 694. 19 Nehru Memorial Museum and Library (NMML), India, Subimal Dutt Papers, Subject Files, File 6, ‘Prime Minister Secretariat’, 18 June 1954. 20 ‘Cable to K.M. Panikkar’, 22 October 1950, SWJN2, vol. 15-I, p. 438. 21 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 2 August 1952, SWNJ2, vol. 19, p. 694. 22 Chandrashekhar Dasgupta, ‘Nehru, Patel and China’, Strategic Analy sis, 38(5) (2014), p. 718; Library and Archives Canada (LAC), RG25, vol. 3262, 6083–40, part 1, ‘Despatch No. 1198’, 30 November 1951. 23 NAUK, DO 133/72, ‘No. 610’, 8 May 1952. 24 National Archives and Record Administration (NARA), RG 59, Decimal File 1950–54, Box 3002, ‘No. 4427’, 26 May 1952. I thank Ira Hubert for the document. 25 NARA, RG 84, India, U.S. Embassy, New Delhi, Top Secret General Records, 1947–1957, Box 3, ‘No. 1460’, 6 October 1962. I thank Ira Hubert for the document.

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 43 26 ‘Cable to K.M. Panikkar’, 16 June 1952, SWJN2, vol. 18, pp. 474–5, and footnote 2. 27 As Bowles told in detail the Australian High Commissioner in Delhi, see: NAA, Series A1838, 169/11/87 PART 2, ‘India Foreign Policy and Mr. Nehru’, 16 August 1952. No corresponding document was found in NARA. See also: Chester Bowles, Ambassador’s Report, London: Victor Gallancz, 1954, pp. 223–31, 251. 28 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 1 August 1953, SWJN2, vol. 23, p. 581. 29 ‘Message to Chou En-lai’, 1 September 1953, SWJN2, vol. 23, pp. 485–6. 30 ‘Principles of Foreign Policy’, 24 March 1954, SWJN2, vol. 25, p. 391. 31 ‘Agreement between India and China on Trade and Intercourse between Tibet Region of China and India’, 29 April 1954, Harold C. Hinton, ed., The People’s Republic of China, 1949–1979: A Documentary Survey, vol. 1, 1949–1957, Wilmington: Scholarly Resources, 1980, pp. 165–6. The five principles are: 1. respect for territorial integrity and sovereignty, 2. non-aggression, 3. non-interference in each other’s internal affairs, 4. equality and mutual benefit, and 5. peaceful co-existence. 32 ‘India and the International Situation’, 15 May 1954, SWJN2, vol. 25, p. 398; Sarvepalli Gopal, Jawaharlal Nehru: A Biography, vol. II, London: Jonathan Cape, 1979, p. 180, and vol. III, p. 304. 33 As the Indonesians told the Australians: NAA, Series A1838, 3004/13/3 PART 9, ‘I.7279’, 24 June 1954. 34 National Archives of India (NAI), External Affairs, 1 (44)-AAC, 1955, ‘Short report on the Second Session [of the Bogor Conference]’, 29 December 1954. 35 ‘Note to Chief Ministers’, 28 April 1955, SWJN2, vol. 28, pp. 131–2. 36 ‘Chinese maps of the Frontier with India’, 6 May 1956, SWJN2, vol. 33, pp. 475–7. 37 ‘To U Nu’, 22 April 1957, SWJN2, vol. 37, p. 508. 38 ‘Talks with Chou En-lai I’, 31 December 1956 and 1 January 1957; and ‘Talks with Zhou Enlai II’, 1 January 1957, SWJN2, vol. 36, pp. 600–1, 614. 39 NMML, Subimal Dutt Papers, Subject Files, File 32, ‘Prime Minister’s Secretariat’, 15 June 1958. 40 Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India, Basingstoke: Palgrave Macmillan, 2010, p. 245; ‘Inaccurate Maps issued by the Chinese Government’, 8 April 1958, SWJN2, vol. 42, p. 655. 41 Gopal, Nehru, vol. III, p. 33. 42 ‘To Chou En-lai’, 14 December 1958, SWJN2, vol. 45, pp. 702–6. 43 ‘Letter to Nehru’, 23 January 1959, Hinton, People’s Republic of China, vol. 2, pp. 807–8. 44 NMML, Subimal Dutt Papers, Subject Files, File 6, ‘Message to be conveyed by Shri P.N. Menon on behalf of the Prime Minister to the Dalai Lama’, 29 April 1959. 45 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 25 March 1959, Letters, vol. 5, p. 227. 46 ‘The revolution in Tibet and Nehru’s philosophy’, 6 May 1959, Hinton, People’s Republic of China, vol. 2, pp. 814–23. 47 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 18 May 1959, Letters, vol. 5, p. 240. 48 Xuecheng Liu, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute and Sino-Indian Relations, Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1994, p. 26.

44  Lorenz M. Lüthi 49 LAC, RG25, vol. 7152, 9193–2–40, part 1, ‘FM LDN SEP4/59 SECRET CDN EYES ONLY’. 50 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 1 October 1959, Letters, vol. 5, pp. 285, 288. 51 LAC, RG25, vol. 4235, 6083–40, part 4, ‘From the Office of the High Commissioner for Canada, New Delhi’, 28 August 1959; ‘Nehru promises to defend Nepal’, New York Times (NYT), 28 November 1959, p. 1. 52 ‘India meets Pakistan’, NYT, 16 October 1959, p. 3; ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 16 October 1959, Letters, vol. 5, pp. 297–8. 53 ‘Premier of Burma meets with Nehru’, NYT, 10 October 1959, p. 2. 54 LAC, RG25, vol. 7152, 9193–2–40, part 1, ‘FM DELHI OCT21/59 SECRET’. 55 ‘Burma and Red China to swap border slices’, Chicago Daily Tribune, 1 February 1960, p. 17. ‘Red China reaches accord with Nepal’, NYT, 22 March 1960, p. 1. 56 See also the chapter by Amit Das Gupta, who explores the reasons why Nehru did not want to negotiate. 57 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 262–3. 58 ‘Chou “hard rock,” Nehru declares’, NYT, 27 April 1960, p. 5. 59 NAA, Series A1838, 169/10/1 PART 6, ‘I.14793’, 7 June 1962. 60 NAUK, DEFE 5, vol. 106, ‘The military to India and Pakistan from Communist China up to 1964’, 26 August 1960. I thank Amit Das Gupta for the document. 61 Steven A. Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990, pp. 75–114. 62 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40, part 8.1, ‘FM DELHI OCT20/62 SECRET’. 63 Paul M. McGarr, The Cold War in South Asia: Britain, the United States and the Indian Subcontinent, 1945–1965, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013, pp. 149–82. 64 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40, part 9.1, ‘Memorandum for the Minister’, 19 November 1962. 65 See also chapters in the second part of the book. 66 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40, part 9.1, ‘FM KARACHI NOV19/62 SECRET’. 67 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40, part 9.2, ‘FM DELHI NOV28/62 CONFD’. 68 LAC, RG25, vol. 7169, 9340-A-40, part 1.2, ‘FM DELHI DEC8/62 CONFD CDN EYES ONLY’. 69 LAC, RG25, vol. 5379, 483–40, part 7, ‘FM KARACHI DEC28/62 UNCLAS’. See also chapter 6 by Amit Das Gupta. 70 LAC, RG25, vol. 5379, 10483–40, part 7, ‘FM KARACHI DEC27/62 UNCLAS’. 71 LAC, RG25, vol. 5284, 9126–40, part 12, ‘Nehru Speech’, 7 January 1963. 72 ‘To Ali Yavar Jung’, 8 September 1954, SWNJ2, vol. 26, p. 525. 73 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40, part 8.2, ‘No. 540’, 12 November 1962. 74 ‘My dear Chief Minister’, 22 December 1962, Letters, vol. 5, p. 564. 75 NAA, Series A1838, 169/10/1 PART 6, ‘Record of conversation with R.K. Nehru, Secretary-General, Minister of External Affairs’, 14 November 1962.

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 45 76 Politisches Archiv des Auswärtigen Amtes, Bestand: Ministerium für Auswärtige Angelegenheiten (PA AA-MfAA), A14336, ‘[Document without title]’, 20 July 1961. 77 People Republic of China Foreign Ministry Archive (PRC FMA), 105–00703–02, ‘The record of the talks of Vice-[Foreign] Minister Geng Biao receiving the Interim Chargé d’Affaires of the Indonesian Embassy in China Suleiman’, 9 December 1960. 78 Bundesarchiv Bern (BA Bern), E 2300, Akzession 1000/716, Box 302, ‘India and the project of a Conference of the Non-Aligned States’, 1 June 1961. 79 PA AA-MfAA, C1738/76, ‘Information’, 6 February 1963. 80 Jiangsu Sheng Dang’anguan [Jiangsu Provincial Archive], [collection] 3124, zhang 177, ‘No title’, August 1963. 81 PRC FMA, 203–00495–01, ‘Outline of the Report of the Visit to 14 Countries’, 27 May 1964; Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP, Central Documents Research Office], ed., Zhou Enlai nianpu, 1949–1976 [A Chronicle of Zhou Enlai’s Life: 1949–1976], vol. 2 (ZELNP2), Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian, 1997, pp. 603, 612, 616, 626. 82 Arhiv Jugoslavije, KPR I-4-a/4, ‘Great and good friend’, 16 February 1964; quote from: LAC, RG25, vol. 8885, 20-UAR-1–3, part 1, ‘FM COLOMBO OCT17/63 CONF’. 83 NAI, External Affairs, 118 (78)/WII/64, ‘Copy of letter date March 7, 1964, from Dr. Subandrio’, no date. 84 BA Bern, E2300, Akzession 1000/716, Box 361, ‘Political letter’, 22 April 1964. 85 ‘Compromise over issue of inviting Russia’, Times of India (TofI), 16 April 1964, p. 7. 86 ZELNP2, pp. 633–4, 641. 87 Various documents in: PRC FMA, 106–00778–02, 106–00778–03, 107–00597–01, 107–00835–03, 113–00395–10, 113–00396–07, and 113–00396–09; PA AA-MfAA, A13344, ‘Conference: 2nd Afro-Asian conference in Algiers’, 3 January 1965. 88 ZELNP2, pp. 720–41. 89 Chapters 7 and 9 in: Lorenz M. Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split: Cold War in the Communist World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008. See also chapter by Eric Hyer. 90 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers (I–III Instalments), Subject Files, File 15, ‘[No title]’, no date. 91 Guha, India after Gandhi, pp. 402, 409–10. 92 PRC FMA, 113–00395–10, ‘Reactions to our nuclear explosion and Khrushchev’s Fall’, 23 October 1964; PRC FMA, 107–00835–03, ‘Reactions to the explosion of our atomic bomb’, 16 October 1964; Lyndon Baines Johnson Presidential Library, National Security File 1963–1969, Files of Robert W. Komer, Box 15, folder China-UN Representation (1964–1966), ‘Kromer to Bundy’, 23 November 1964; United Nations Archive, New York, S-0884–0006–11, ‘Press conference by Paul Martin, Foreign Minister of Canada’, 23 November 1966; NAA, Series A1838, 169/11/87 PART 26, ‘Memorandum No. 1965’, 20 October 1964. 93 PA AA-MfAA, A17424, ‘Memorandum’, no date.

46  Lorenz M. Lüthi 94 ‘Nehru “regrets” U.S. fleet tour of Indian Ocean’, Chicago Tribune, 14 April 1964, p. A8. 95 ‘Issues in foreign policy’, 23 March 1954, SWJN2, vol. 25, p. 383. 96 Zafar Iqbal Cheema, Indian Nuclear Deterrence: Its Evolution, Development, and Implications for South Asian Security, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010, p. 117. 97 George Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb: The Impact on Global Proliferation, updated, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1999, pp. 61, 66–83. 98 Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, pp. 86–145. 99 NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers (I and II Instalments), Subject Files, File 35, ‘Instructions to India’s representative to U.N. on Non-Proliferation Treaty’, 20 April 1968. The other non-signatory was France. 100 In the early 1970s, Israel probably was a nuclear power as well, but due to its doctrine of ambiguity has never declared or denied its nuclear capabilities. 101 Chris Tudda, A Cold War Turning Point: Nixon in China, 1969–1972, Baton Rouge: Louisiana State University Press, 2012, pp. 54–103. 102 Mentioned in: ‘China, Russ veto U.N. truce bid’, Chicago Tribune, 6 December 1971, p. 1. 103 Srinath Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, Cambridge: Harvard University Press, 2013, pp. 231–63. 104 ‘China, Russ veto U.N. truce bid’, Chicago Tribune, 6 December 1971, pp. 1, 12. 105 ‘U.N. vote asks India-Pakistan truce, pullback’, Chicago Tribune, 8 December 1971, p. 1. 106 In the words of India’s Joint Secretary External Affairs Gonsalves, see: NAA, Series A1838, 169/10/1 PART 20, ‘I.126251’, 12 November 1971. 107 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers (I to III Instalments), Subject Files, File 19, ‘India and the World’, 22 January 1972. 108 Raghavan, 1971, pp. 155–83. 109 See an Indian Aide-Memoire sent to several countries: LAC, RG25, vol. 8915, 20-INDIA-1–3-PAK, part 18, ‘Aide Memoire’, 13 December 1971. 110 PA AA-MfAA, C 334/75, ‘Foreign policy: Yugoslav media on the armed conflict between India and Pakistan’, no date. 111 ‘After India’s war: The unsettled Arabs’, Jerusalem Post, 21 January 1972, p. A5. 112 NAA, Series A1838, 169/10/1 PART 20, ‘India and South East Asia’, 14 December 1971. 113 NAA, Series A1838, 169/10/1 PART 20, ‘I.107781’, 23 December 1971. 114 For the transcripts of the Nixon talks in China, see: Documents 194 to 202 in: United States of America, Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS), 1969–1972, vol. 17, pp. 667–811. 115 NAI, External Affairs, WII/104/18/72, ‘Sino-American Detente’, no date. 116 Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, pp. 146–60. 117 K. Subramanyam reminisces that there was no decision on paper at all, see: ‘Indian Nuclear Policy – 1964–1998 (A personal memoir)’, in Jasjit Singh

India’s relations with China, 1945–74 47 (ed.), Nuclear India, Delhi: Institute for Defense Studies and Analyses, 1998, p. 30; Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, p. 170. 118 Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, pp. 169–72. 119 NAUK, FCO 37/1469, ‘India’s report to the nuclear explosion’, 7 June 1974; Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb, p. 179. 120 NAUK, FCO 37/1471, ‘FM DELHI 170740Z’, 17 July 1974. 121 Itty Abraham, The Making of the Indian Atomic Bomb: Science, Secrecy and the Postcolonial State, London: Zed Books, 1998, pp. 155–66. 122 For the U.N. position, see: ‘India’s bomb: others can’t be far behind’, 2 June 1974, The Sun, p. K2; for the Soviet reaction, see: SAPMO-Barch, DY 30/IV B 2/20/127, ‘Note’, 5 June 1974. 123 ‘Paper prepared by an Interagency Working Group’, 30 May 1974, FRUS, 1969–1974, vol. E-14, Part 2, p. 114. 124 NAUK, FCO 37/1471, ‘Nuclear India’, 22 June 1974. 125 Cheema, Indian Nuclear Deterrence, pp. 139–41. 126 NAUK, FCO 37/1601, ‘Dear Christopher’, 31 October 1975, and ‘Dear Mr. Hum’, 21 November 1975. However, India was chosen for a non-permanent seat the following year. 127 See multiple documents in: FRUS, 1969–1974, vol. E-14, Part 2. 128 Mentioned in: ‘Paper prepared by an Interagency Working Group’, 30 May 1974, FRUS, 1969–1974, vol. E-14, Part 2, p. 115. 129 ‘Nuclear club keeps growing’, 21 June 1974, Christian Science Monitor, p. 2. 130 ‘Nuclear guarantee by U.N. sought’, 26 June 1974, Times of India (TofI), p. 1. See also numerous documents in chapter 5 of FRUS, 1969–1974, vol. E-8. 131 SAPMO-Barch, DY 30/IV B 2/20/127, ‘Note’, 5 June 1974. 132 NAUK, FCO 37/1469, ‘FM MOSCOW 080912Z’, 10 June 1974. 133 NAUK, FCO 37/1471, ‘Nuclear India’, 22 June 1974. 134 NAUK, FCO 37/1470, ‘Confidential’, 12 June 1974.

2 Foreign Secretary Subimal Dutt and the prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war Amit R. Das Gupta For the mere fact that Beijing in October 1962 ultimately resorted to force to resolve the Sino-Indian border dispute, many scholars maintained that armed conflict had become inevitable. Such determinism tends to lead to false conclusions. Both sides wanted to avoid escalation and were concerned that large-scale hostilities might trigger the involvement of third powers. With regard to the Indian side, the general consensus among historians is that a long-term series of lapses together with uncoordinated and ill-prepared steps contributed to the defeat at large. The armed forces were in a hopelessly inferior position, and India stood isolated without any allies. Therefore, Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and Defence Minister V.K. Krishna Menon received most of the blame for supposed naivety or alleged neglect of the military, political and diplomatic preparations necessary for a war. Such a view, first, ignores that any government, notwithstanding limited financial resources investing huge sums into a long-term armament and infrastructure programme for an unlikely high-altitude war in remote and partly uninhabited border areas, would have come under massive criticism. The focus on the faults of the Nehru government, second, has led critics and historians to ignore developments in the years between 1954 and 1959. Until today, the discussion focuses, on the one hand, on the years between the establishment of the People’s Republic of China in 1949 and the Tibet Agreement from 1954, when India allegedly missed the opportunity to settle the boundary issue on its own terms, and, on the other hand, on the developments between 1959 and 1962, that is, from the Tibetan uprising to the failed Nehru–Zhou Enlai summit, often portrayed as a failed chance for a peaceful settlement in the form of a barter of the North East Frontier Association (NEFA) versus Aksai Chin, and finally to the Forward Policy leading into the war. Nevertheless, the years between the Tibetan Agreement and the Tibetan uprising were crucial, as it was then that India for the first and last time formulated a consistent and promising strategy. The aim was a negotiated solution based on historical rights, custom and the watershed principle.

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 49 The climax, and at the same time the end, of that policy came with the summit in April 1960. In retrospect, it is easy to argue that, since the strategy failed, it was ill-conceived and futile from the very beginning. Given legal constraints, public opinion, military weakness and the declared will to remain non-aligned, this chapter will show that there was no rational alternative. For a government promoting international peace, believing in the rule of law and needing a public mandate, it was almost without alternative to try a diplomatic solution. This fitted to the general Indian approach to international affairs, largely an extension of the civil rights movement having achieved independence. It turned out, however, that the Chinese counterparts were less interested in legal principles but gave priority to their national interests, that is, securing Tibet and Sinkiang. From a certain point, settling the border along their own terms was part of a Chinese policy of military dominance vis-à-vis a neighbour more and more perceived as a threat on many levels. Development and implementation of that strategy are inevitably linked to Subimal Dutt, India’s longest serving foreign secretary (October 1955– April 1961), who ended a period of vagueness in India’s China policy and insisted on a realist approach. Particularly after Nehru had understood to what extent he had been ill-advised by Krishna Menon in the crisis around the Soviet intervention in Hungary in 1956, he asked Dutt to handle the boundary dispute. When it turned out that reaching a Sino-Indian understanding about a minor area in the middle sector of the frontier was impossible, the foreign secretary established a team of experts in 1958/59. He also ordered archival research to investigate India’s claims, and eventually managed to convince Nehru to meet Zhou in order to reach a top-level solution. After the failure of the summit in April 1960, he initiated talks on the level of experts, which with the publication of White Papers1 were meant to demonstrate the strength of India’s case to the rest of the world. A detailed research of this period has become possible, first, thanks to the vast collection of official documents which Dutt handed over to the Nehru Memorial Museum & Library. Second, while working on a political biography of Dutt,2 the author gained access both to Dutt’s diaries and to classified documents in the internal archives of the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA). Combined with the records in the National Archives of India and Dutt’s published memoirs,3 it has become possible to draw a detailed picture of events, decision-making processes and the assessments of main protagonists.

The first decade (1949–59) On 12 October 1955, Dutt was appointed foreign secretary. Apart from a two-year interlude as ambassador in West Germany, he had held the post

50  Amit R. Das Gupta of commonwealth secretary since 1947, hardly coming in touch with Chinese affairs. Nevertheless, he had had first-hand experience with socialist countries when regularly travelling to Berlin through East Germany, finding living conditions, officials and politicians there as appalling as their Soviet masters. Right after his promotion, rumours circulated in the MEA that he was ‘anti-Chinese – anti-Russian’,4 which had some justification. Whereas Nehru harboured sympathies for socialism and the USSR, and Krishna Menon was known for his strong anti-American and pro-Soviet bias, there was another school of thinking in Indian foreign policy, too. The majority of Indian Foreign Service (IFS) officers had been recruited from the Indian Civil Service (ICS), the proverbial ‘steel frame of the Raj’. The British had feared the independence movement, but even more a communist takeover. Whereas many of the ‘brown Englishmen’ in the ICS had struggled with split loyalties when fighting the Congress Party, they had shared the British anti-communist stand. This was particularly true for Sir Girja Shankar Bajpai. From the 1920s when working in the Department for Education, Health and Lands (EHL), which most prominently looked after Indians overseas, he had become India’s most eminent foreign policy expert. Finally appointed member – that is, minister – of that department in 1940, he had been the superior of many of those who joined the IFS after independence. His posting as Agent-General to Washington from 1942 to late 1946 had brought Bajpai in immediate contact with global developments, including the beginnings of the Cold War. Called back by Nehru to run the MEA, the secretary general was most loyal but at the same time held views partly differing from those of the prime minister. In a sort of legacy for the foreign policy of a soon independent India, in late 1945 he had pleaded for alignment in international affairs. He, however, had advised the coming rulers against a close partnership with either the immature USA or the USSR, holding that the latter would inevitably undercut India’s political system. His vision was a partnership on a par with the UK.5 Though he eventually followed suit when Nehru opted for non-alignment, Bajpai took no pains to hide that, regarding communism, ‘my whole soul revolts against its totalitarianism’.6 Moreover, Bajpai was a realist through and through. In his Washington legacy he emphasized that ‘sentiment must serve, not master the national interest’,7 reiterating this as his credo in the essay ‘India and the balance of power’.8 Subimal Dutt proved to be his true heir. Having worked in the EHL Department from 1938 to 1940 and as Indian Agent in Malaya in 1941, he had come in touch with foreign affairs and won Bajpai’s confidence. As chairman of the Secretariat Reorganization Committee, the latter ensured that the majority of IFS officers were recruited from the ICS.9 Accordingly,

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 51 the troika of secretaries at the top of the MEA consisted of three such officers, though Foreign Secretary K.P.S. Menon was rather Nehru’s man and hardly left an imprint on foreign policy until his departure to Moscow in 1952. India’s early China policy lacked consistency. Once the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) had won the Civil War and New China occupied Tibet, unease about India’s northern boundary rose in Delhi. Given the potential threat of a powerful neighbour ready to use force, Nehru developed a double strategy. While India should be militarily prepared and – partly for that purpose – develop its border areas, it should try to establish friendly relations with New China to mutual benefit, thereby making open conflict unlikely.10 The wisdom of this approach was beyond doubt, but not the balance between the two components. Together with Home Minister Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, Bajpai wanted a stronger focus on the military aspect, while the former also suggested closer cooperation with the West.11 The debate ended with Patel’s death in late 1950. The Indian position remained contradictory. Whereas maps published in 1950 termed the western and central sector of the northern boundary undefined,12 Nehru in November the same year declared the border from Ladakh to Nepal ‘defined chiefly by long usage and custom’, the eastern part by the McMahon Line,13 which had been drawn along the watershed. Indeed, there had been no investigation into the justification of these claim lines, nor were any border sections between India and China settled. This could have been a bargaining position for future Sino-Indian negotiations in the case that Beijing would not simply accept the Indian claims. As it turned out, however, the Nehru government preferred to focus on the second part of the double strategy instead of bargaining hard. In the Tibet Agreement from April 1954, India acknowledged Chinese suzerainty and gave up rights enforced by the Younghusband expedition from 1904 without getting anything in return. The agreement mentioned a few passes for pilgrims but did not explicitly spell out that those were part of the boundary. Although the denouncement of the Treaty of Lhasa placed India on the moral high ground, its wisdom was questionable given that it was concluded with a government that had proven ready to use force and to bargain hard in Korea. Joint Secretary T.N. Kaul, India’s chief negotiator among the officials, felt uneasy, warning against Chinese attempts to push their claim line, wherefore he strongly suggested the establishment of border posts.14 Dutt’s predecessor, Foreign Secretary R.K. Nehru, did not have a reputation for his work,15 and Secretary General N.R. Pillai had neither the decade-long experience nor the strong personality of Bajpai. The prime minister himself had not shown much decisiveness in the first half of the

52  Amit R. Das Gupta 1950s either. He had tolerated that Ambassador K.M. Panikkar ignored instructions to raise the border issue with the Chinese, Panikkar arguing that the ‘persistent silence should . . . be treated as acquiescence in – if not acceptance of’ – Indian claims.16 Moreover, when Zhou touched the issue in the summer of 1954, apologizing that his government had republished Guomindang maps for not having had time yet for a proper survey of the border areas, Nehru simply replied that ‘our frontiers are clear . . . I am sure the maps were old maps and you did not mean it’.17 Nevertheless, the year 1954 witnessed the first territorial dispute emerging around a grazing ground in the middle sector of the border, which the Indians called Bara Hoti, the Chinese Wu Je (Wure); both sides protested against intrusion by the other.18 The MEA did not pay close attention to this problem at all. Kaul held that China would take years to absorb Tibet, and that its policies would make people in the border areas turn towards India.19 R.K. Nehru saw no threat of aggression, too. India should pursue the issue of the maps and otherwise ‘extend our administration to the border as rapidly as possible and . . . develop this area by measures designed to improve the status of the people. Because of easier communications, we enjoy an advantage over China in this matter’.20 Even after his transfer to Beijing, ­Ambassador R.K. Nehru emphasized that India should not establish close relations ‘with hostile elements in Tibet’.21 Dutt’s approach could not have been more different. In early May 1956, both he and Nehru expressed distrust of the Chinese narrative of outdated maps. The foreign secretary also emphasized ‘that the truculent attitude taken by the Chinese at Bara Hoti . . . could not be attributed only to the local patrols; they must be acting on instruction. We should take up these local disputes with the Chinese even if we do not take up frontier demarcation as a general issue’.22 Moreover, whereas R.K. Nehru had considered the Chinese imposition of reforms in Tibet business as usual,23 Dutt saw it as open oppression. He felt confirmed when the CCP used pretexts to prohibit the Dalai Lama to attend the celebrations of the Buddha’s anniversary in late 1956.24 The tone within the MEA had changed with the new foreign secretary, but it took some time until it had an impact on the prime minister, too. In the summer of 1956, Nehru still felt not more than ‘a sense of disquiet’ about ‘petty raids and the maps’, and about Chinese road-building in the border areas.25 With Dutt he argued that Beijing merely developed Tibet and ruled ‘out any kind of physical or aerial attack on India for a considerable time to come at least’. Given India’s poor financial situation, countermeasures had to be restricted to border posts and the development of those areas. The maps might be discussed ‘some time or other’.26 Over the months, however, Nehru’s assessment became remarkably similar to Dutt’s. The foreign secretary won the prime minister’s consent to give

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 53 no publicity to the dispute.27 When in September 1956 a Chinese patrol crossed over the Shipki La Pass, Nehru in a rather Duttish tone ordered the Border Security Force to remain there ‘even if this involves a clash’. Beijing should be warned that any intrusion was considered as aggression.28 It fits in that, in late November, Dutt discussed with Kaul and Special Secretary B.N. Chakravarty ‘the central administration of certain border areas in the Himachal Pradesh and the Punjab’.29 Moreover – following the foreign secretary’s advice – Nehru for the first time referred to the boundary issue in his talks with Zhou at the turn of 1956/57. According to the Indian protocol, Zhou replied that ‘the Chinese government were of the opinion that they should give recognition to this McMahon Line’, though the term itself was unacceptable. Nevertheless, he left the door open for a change of mind when emphasizing that the Tibetan government had to be consulted.30 Nehru regarded the eastern part of the boundary as a settled issue, but became cautious regarding the rest. Dutt appears to have taken Zhou’s vague and ambiguous statement with greater scepticism, which grew even further when China refused to accept the McMahon Line in border talks with Burma. He was apprehensive that a general dispute about the validity of traditional borders might be looming behind the horizon.31 For the time being, Dutt asked Defence Secretary M.K. Vellodi to avoid all provocations. Only a policy of co-existence enabled ‘countries with different social and political systems to live side by side without fear. . . . Any other policy would not only be opposed to the principles which govern the international relations of India but would . . . stand in the way of economic development of the country’.32 Therefore India did not raise the question of Spiti Valley in Ladakh, where the Chinese had placed boundary stones in August 1956.33 Such caution was also caused by the lack of any means to enforce India’s claims. During the severe financial crisis, which eventually led to the establishment of the Aid India Consortium in August 1958,34 there was no money even for a crucial road connecting Manali and Leh, the capital of Ladakh.35 At least, Dutt instructed the embassy in Beijing to declare that ‘Sikkim is a protectorate of India. You should also say that the relations between Bhutan and India are governed by a special treaty and we cannot accept the position that Bhutan is an entirely independent country’.36 All hopes that China only sought discussing a few miles here and there, however, ended in September 1957 when Beijing announced the construction of a road linking Tibet with Sinkiang running through Aksai Chin, a high plateau in the northeast of Ladakh claimed by India. For the time being, Dutt saw India in a quandary. Not only was Aksai Chin shown as part of China on Soviet and Chinese maps, but the Indian claim also did ‘not seem to be based on very sure grounds. . . . To approach the Chinese

54  Amit R. Das Gupta with a complaint that the highway passes through our territory, even it were to be admitted that Aksai Chin is part of India, would not be right since we are not sure of the fact. At the same time, if we do not do anything at all at this stage we shall never again be able to assert our claim to this area’. He counselled Nehru to send a reconnoitring party since this could be done without consulting China. If it faced resistance, ‘our party can come back and we can take up the matter diplomatically. An alternative would be for us to reconsider our position in regard to Aksai Chin, and if our claim is not based on substantial evidence, to give it up’.37 Such pragmatism was but one side of the coin. As Zhou had not uttered a word about the road during his meetings with Nehru at the turn of 1956/57, ‘it lent credence to Delhi’s perception that China had occupied Aksai Chin furtively and treacherously’.38 Moreover, Beijing showed no inclination to start talks about Bara Hoti, although it had indicated readiness in early 1957.39 In return the Government of India hardened its stand. In a communication with the Chinese embassy, it emphasized that ‘the watershed principle has extensive application and determines the frontier between India and Tibet region of China practically all along its length’; in the process, Spiti joined the list of areas to be discussed.40 Dutt at all costs wanted to find out whether China was willing to negotiate at all; he even was ready to accept the loss of more territory in case Beijing had the better-justified claims, choosing Bari Hoti as a litmus test. India until now had ‘insisted on the tacit acceptance by the Chinese of Tunjun La as the border pass and suggested that the question whether Bara Hoti was Indian territory or Chinese territory should be determined with reference to its situation north or south of the pass’. This precondition was given up41 in order to get ‘an inkling into the Chinese mind in regard to frontier questions in general’.42 The Bara Hoti talks started on 19 April 1958. On the one hand, Dutt found ‘our case . . . factually even stronger than what I myself thought it was’. On the other hand, he was embarrassed that a member of the Chinese delegation openly stated that ‘either side can produce whatever she wants according to their own convenience’.43 After a second round in early June, the foreign secretary informed Nehru that, whereas the Indian delegation had provided exact data, their Chinese counterparts had only vaguely spoken of an area south of the Tunjun La Pass and suggested a ‘joint local enquiry’. Dutt rejected this proposal since both sides could produce any number of supporters, resulting ‘in a fantastic position’. The real problem, in his eyes, was the general Chinese attitude. Beijing repudiated Indian claims based on maps ‘supposed to have been prepared by British colonialists surreptitiously. They are also not prepared to accept the passes mentioned in the 1954 agreement as border passes and thereby

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 55 indirectly repudiate the principle of watershed marking the international boundary’. Dutt held that Delhi could not afford to make concessions on either of these two points. The Chinese had even ruled out a temporary compromise ‘that no civil official on their side should visit Bara Hoti pending the conclusion of the present talks’.44 Dutt understood this as part of a larger picture of a generally stiffening attitude vis-à-vis India.45 The combined Sino-Soviet pressure on Yugoslavia fitted in, in his eyes.46 Nehru reacted even harsher to this development, holding that ‘if the Soviet Union or China can do this in regard to Yugoslavia, there is no particular reason to imagine that they cannot or will not do so in the case of India’.47 Against the background of the growing feeling that China had become a threat, Nehru decided to keep Defence Minister Krishna Menon out of the border dispute; hitherto the latter had seen virtually any relevant paper relating to Indian foreign affairs. In March 1958, the prime minister warned the Ambassador designate to Beijing, G. Parthasarathy, that China was ‘arrogant, devious, hypocritical and thoroughly unreliable’. He also gave orders to bypass Menon in all communication, characterizing the latter as ‘clouded on the matter of our relations with China merely because China is a communist country’.48 It fits in that about a year later Nehru asked Dutt to focus on the border dispute,49 apart from Menon also keeping out the latter’s favourite Commonwealth Secretary M.J. Desai. The foreign secretary formed a team, consisting partly of those who had supported him in the Bara Hoti negotiations. Apart from the Director of the Historical Division Sarvepalli Gopal and his Deputy K. Gopalachari, these were Joint Secretary East K.L. Mehta and Jagat S. Mehta, who was soon appointed director of the newly created Northern Division.50 The team was complete with Under Secretary V.V. Paranjpe, whom Beijing had declared persona non grata after his term at the Indian embassy there. Following the Chinese example, Dutt also added cartographers and historians.51 Since Dutt did not see any prospect for reaching a consensus regarding Bara Hoti,52 from autumn 1958 he focused on the much bigger problem, namely Aksai Chin. He reiterated his doubts about Indian claims,53 but advised Nehru not to acquiesce as this ‘might serve as an encouragement to the Chinese authorities to take unilateral action in other contested areas also. In the long run there is bound to be a stalemate. That is to say, the Chinese will continue to use the road and we shall merely be going on record as having asserted our claim to this area without being able to enforce our right or obstruct the use of the road by the Chinese’.54 Nehru accepted Dutt’s views. After in August 1958 a patrol had confirmed the disputed road running through Aksai Chin, India protested against the violation of ‘indisputable Indian territory’ and asked about the fate of another patrol having disappeared.55 Dutt called it a ‘gross callousness’ when he

56  Amit R. Das Gupta learned that China, without informing India,56 had detained the soldiers for two months and then pushed them ‘across a pass which at that time of the year was already on the way to being blocked by heavy snowfall’.57 His tone sharpened further after a Chinese note indicated that Beijing had no intention to correct its maps. He counselled Nehru to remind Zhou of his inclination to accept the McMahon Line, though without going into details. The Chinese hitherto had not raised any specific dispute in NEFA and, thus, their attention was not supposed to be drawn to this area. Discussing Aksai Chin, however, was a must.58 Nehru’s letter to Zhou from 14 December 1958 closely followed Dutt’s advice,59 Zhou responding that apart from Aksai Chin, beyond doubt forming a part of China, the whole border was open to dispute.60 The foreign secretary advised the prime minister not to reply and wait whether China would offer substantial negotiations.61 He found Nehru’s habit of immediately answering letters a disadvantage – both for occasional lack of preparations and for tactical reasons.62

Tibetan uprising (1959/60) With the Tibetan Uprising in spring 1959, the difficult situation changed to the worse. Since 1956, Dutt and Nehru had been of one mind that India should not get embroiled in Tibetan affairs, and they kept to this line when the unrest intensified at the turn of 1958/59. Neither were wounded Tibetans allowed to cross into India for medical treatment63 nor were Indian troops moved towards the border with the purpose of avoiding any impression of provocation.64 In comparison, China accused India of exploiting the trouble in Tibet for its own purposes65 after Nehru in late March had sent Zhou a letter – again drafted by Dutt – clarifying India’s case along the whole border in detail and protesting against the ongoing occupation of Bara Hoti.66 Even worse, once granted asylum in India, the Dalai Lama publicly demanded Tibetan independence. Dutt tried to limit the damage by isolating the Dalai Lama from political contacts,67 but also convinced Nehru to extend reconnaissance both in Aksai Chin68 and along the McMahon Line.69 The foreign secretary personally became the target of most vitriolic allegations, expressed by Ambassador Pan Zili on 16 May. The Chinese diplomat maintained that, whereas Dutt blamed China for the bilateral tensions, India had massively intervened in Chinese domestic affairs. He openly warned that India – after Pakistan – might face a second front: ‘Our Indian friends! What is your mind? Will you be agreeing to our thinking regarding the view that China can only concentrate its main attention eastward of China, but not southwestwards of China, nor is it necessary for it to do so? . . . It seems to us that you too cannot have two fronts.’70 Nehru

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 57 found the statement as a whole a ‘very objectionable message’;71 Gopal later even characterized it as ‘unequalled for open blackmail’.72 Accordingly, Dutt conveyed to Pan Zili a note expressing ‘regret and surprise’ about the latter’s statement which his government considered ‘wholly out of keeping with diplomatic usage and the courtesies due to friendly countries’.73 Adding that India had no intention of interfering in Tibet or reconsidering its friendship with China, he did not comment on Pan Zili’s renewed allegations.74 India’s subsequent attempts to re-establish a normal atmosphere bore no fruit. On the contrary, in Tibet the trade missions and Indian nationals faced continuous harassment.75 This led India to prepare countermeasures. Dutt believed that Indians of Chinese origin would find it ‘extremely difficult to abjure their Chinese patriotism’.76 Had he initially advised against enforced registration of foreigners because this might have created the ‘impression that we were preparing for a war with China’,77 in December he changed his mind, complaining the massive abuse of the Foreigner’s Registration Rules by people of Chinese origin.78 When, however, the Government of West Bengal started investigating the accounts of all Chinese shops in the state, the foreign secretary asked to limit such measures to one state as otherwise it looked like India was preparing for a state of emergency.79 Otherwise, his line hardened. When access to an Indian primary school in Tibetan Yatung/Yadong was blocked, he suggested to Nehru an eye-for-an-eye policy.80 On 25 August 1959, an Indian border guard died in a clash to the north of the McMahon Line at Longju. As a reaction, India published its first White Paper with exchanges between the prime ministers and officials with the purpose to calm domestic criticism caused by press reports.81 Instead of reducing the pressure on the Government of India, it aroused public opinion, resulting in vehement attacks on China in press and parliament. Around the same time, Dutt asked US Chargé d’Affairs Winthrop G. Brown not to bring the Tibetan question to the United Nations Security Council. He feared that this would only lead to Chinese reprisals against Tibetans and force Moscow to side with Beijing, although the USSR had hitherto been ‘very quiet over Tibet and Sino-Indian border problems, which might indicate they do not approve of ChiComs [Chinese Communists] actions and statements’. In a conversation with the Japanese ambassador he emphasized that India could not afford to have China as enemy.82 The ongoing letter exchanges between the prime ministers were fruitless. Zhou insisted that the whole border had never been formally delimited, but indicated that China might accept its run in the east.83 In return Nehru claimed that the McMahon Line followed the Himalayan watershed, referred to treaties from the 19th century and demanded a withdrawal of

58  Amit R. Das Gupta forces from Aksai Chin as precondition for talks.84 Confidentially, MEA officials told Western diplomats that this was ‘more “a bargaining position” ’ than a real demand, and that Delhi was ready to make some territorial concessions.85 Another skirmish at the Kongka Pass in Ladakh on 25 October left a number of Indian police officers dead and showed that, without disengagement, more clashes were likely to follow as both armies pushed their positions towards their respective claim lines. Delhi considered Zhou’s offer from 7 November of a mutual withdrawal of 20 kilometres from the actual line of control disadvantageous.86 It would have left large parts of Aksai Chin under Chinese control, whereas India was supposed to withdraw from the McMahon Line, which it was not at all willing to discuss. Therefore, Nehru asked to leave things as they were in the middle and eastern sector of the border. In Ladakh, he suggested a withdrawal of the respective forces of either country behind the claim line of the other, leaving the disputed and uninhabited territory in between without any civil administration. Only thereafter would he accept Zhou’s suggestion to meet for a discussion of the border.87 Under those terms, China would have lost control over the crucial Aksai Chin road. Accordingly, Zhou refused to discuss the three sectors of the border on different footings.88 Dutt found his letter ‘a cleverly worded document’, reiterating Chinese territorial claims without throwing any light on their basis.89 The fruitless exchange, however, helped India buy time. Dutt had criticized earlier that India was hardly capable of providing any documentary to support its claims, particularly papers of the Simla Conference; China in the meantime had withdrawn old maps where the borders were marked in a manner favouring India – a development that he found in ‘itself significant’. In autumn 1959, the foreign secretary sent Gopal to conduct research in British archives,90 where he had to work under special security measures after a Chinese agent had attempted to steal a map on a London bus from an official of the high commission.91 Gopal’s research was so successful that both prime minister and foreign secretary let themselves be convinced that – rather unexpectedly – India had a nearly fool-proof case even in Aksai Chin.92 The whole research had been undertaken in utmost secrecy, with Dutt hoping for a tactical advantage; had Gopal’s mission been public, ‘the Chinese Government may be ready with other documentary evidence’.93 He advised Nehru, who advocated the quick publication of maps supporting India’s case in order to reduce domestic pressure on the government,94 to keep a low profile for the time being.95

April 1960 summit and aftermath On 5 February 1960, the Government of India felt confident and prepared enough to accept Zhou’s proposal for a summit, dropping the

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 59 precondition of a Chinese withdrawal from Aksai Chin. The atmosphere seemed rather favourable to India. In late 1959, US President Dwight D. Eisenhower had received an enthusiastic reception in India, and there could be no doubt that the United States would intervene in case of a major communist attack.96 Nevertheless, Eisenhower avoided any involvement in the border dispute.97 Certainly, Indian expectations rested more on Khrushchev’s ability to restrain China, but he only expressed hopes for a peaceful settlement, while he refused mediation or taking a ‘position on merits, involving two friends’.98 In short, both superpowers indicated sympathies for India’s stand, but refused to put pressure on China. With the border agreement with Burma from 28 January 1960, China itself sent contradictory signals. Whereas the PRC accepted most Burmese claims including the watershed principle, it repudiated the Indian and Burmese geographical location of the border triangle and insisted on a location five miles further south.99 Apart from the international constellation, Dutt had his own reasons to push for both the summit and a diplomatic solution, because he saw the Chinese much more determined than the Indians. ‘Our whole system is such that in a struggle with them we are loomed to lose’ in an open confrontation.100 The Nehru government knew that Zhou would offer bartering Aksai Chin versus NEFA. China had never shown any real interest in territories south of the McMahon Line, whereas the Aksai Chin road was crucial. On the reverse, India to some extent had established itself in the Northeast, but never exercised control in Aksai Chin. What might earlier have appeared a reasonable compromise, settling the border dispute and confirming the status quo, however, had become unacceptable to the Government of India by 1959/60. Ironically, Gopal’s findings further blocked any compromise. The Supreme Court ruled in March 1960 that no territory could be ceded without an amendment to the constitution that needed parliamentary support that was unconceivable in times when public opinion was intensely aroused. For that reason, Nehru and senior ministers were convinced that he could not remain prime minister if he agreed to Zhou’s proposal.101 Even worse, Delhi did not consider Beijing trustworthy any longer after having repeatedly changed its claims and even resorted to force. The Indian government had no reason to believe that, once it had agreed to a compromise, the PRC would not come up with even more extensive claims in the future. From an Indian perspective both NEFA and Aksai Chin were rightfully Indian territory; Zhou’s offer read like ‘you condone my last theft and I won’t steal any more’.102 Nevertheless, the government discussed various scenarios including a long-term lease of Aksai Chin, leaving China in control of the road in return for recognition of Indian sovereignty.103

60  Amit R. Das Gupta Accordingly, during the summit from 20 to 25 April, Nehru turned down Zhou’s proposal to accept the status quo, which the latter praised as ‘being fair to both. It would make no difference to India’ and minor adjustments were no problem.104 The talks were conducted on four levels. On the level of subaltern governmental officials, the Indian delegation entered the talks with a collection of 500 pages of documents, whereas their Chinese counterparts had arrived with none. The embarrassed Dutt refused to continue talks on such a basis, and was supported by Nehru and Home Minister G.B. Pant,105 the grey eminence in the cabinet regarding the dispute.106 The talks between the prime ministers as well as those conducted by Railway Minister Swaran Singh and Pant, respectively, got deadlocked, too. China pursued a pragmatic solution, whereas India wanted to discuss ‘historical borders’.107 Those two incompatible concepts reflected the strengths of the respective sides – China was in control on the ground while India believed to have the stronger legal position. As Delhi was neither willing nor capable to accept Zhou’s position, the only conceivable way allowing both sides to keep their face would have been for China to present documents fleshing out the Chinese claims on Aksai Chin. This would have allowed the ­Government of India to admit that the Chinese claims were stronger and to withdraw its own without violating the constitution. Given the mood of both the Nehru government and the Indian public, however, such a move would have needed far more mutual goodwill than that existed. Dutt understood that Zhou had arrived with a ‘take it or leave it’ attitude, and to make things worse, the performance of the Chinese delegation was superior. The foreign secretary wondered ‘why discussions were proceeding at four levels’, although it was known that all Chinese spoke with one voice, whereas every Indian negotiator as usual pursued his own strategy, which appeared amateurish in comparison.108 Zhou caused even more discord after the first fruitless conversation with Nehru when he asked to see Krishna Menon, India’s leading leftist who hitherto had been kept out of the picture. The content of their conversation remained unknown even to the MEA,109 but the secrecy itself took care for ill-feelings and speculations, even more as Zhou thereafter refused to see Menon again. Anyway, there was no need for outsiders to weaken the deficient cohesion of the Indian team. For example, Dutt was fuming that, notwithstanding his key role in the border dispute, he was not admitted to the talks between Swaran Singh and Foreign Minister Chen Yi because Singh had warned Nehru that some MEA officials were not interested in the talks to succeed. As early as the second day of the talks, the foreign secretary drew a gloomy picture, expecting the Chinese to ‘assume a more rigid and aggressive attitude. Shall we be able to match them? They are aggressive, determined, autocratic and authoritarian. We are slow, inefficient, divided amongst ourselves’.110

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 61 In the end, the summit deepened the divide. When discussing the final communiqué the Chinese refused every phrase Dutt suggested even when he used their terminology.111 To keep the door open for future talks without a further loss of face, the foreign secretary found a solution by announcing talks of officials to discuss the evidence of both sides.112 Those discussions were not prone to open the way to compromises; Dutt in private even confessed that he ‘had no hope that the Chinese would change their stand’.113 Such talks, however, did not prejudice anything and left the impression of mutual goodwill. Three such meetings held over the period from June to December 1960 ended nowhere.114 In February 1961, the MEA published the joint report of these talks, combined with a separate Indian report.115 This was Dutt’s last activity in connection with the border dispute. In April, he was transferred to Moscow, his team was dissolved and its members spread across the globe. Since the attempt to make China discuss historical borders had failed, there apparently was no need for those experts any longer. Although the military situation was clearly in favour of China, Nehru seems not to have attempted to win active Soviet support. Dutt did not once discuss the issue with a Soviet official during his term in Moscow that ended in early October 1962, just before the start of the Sino-Indian War. In the meantime, India introduced its fateful ‘Forward Policy’. After the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) had pushed further towards the Chinese claim line and come close to Indian posts in Ladakh, Nehru decided on 6 November 1961 to send forward patrols and establish new posts behind the Chinese lines. The Indian government believed that the PLA would not engage in armed clashes as soon as such posts were sufficiently manned, and that Beijing would not react sharply. Instead of a line of actual control, a sort of zigzag pattern would come into being in Aksai Chin, effectively preventing further Chinese advances.116 Whereas Nehru made it a point to prevent any armed confrontation, Foreign Secretary Desai suggested giving the Chinese ‘an occasional knock during these chance encounters . . . [and] to engage them in a short offensive action aimed at inflicting casualties and/or taking prisoners’.117 Whether Dutt knew about this risky policy and approved is unknown, though it appears rather unlikely. The generally more assertive and aggressive policy pursued by Krishna Menon and Desai ran counter to his idea of presenting India as pursuing legitimate goals by legitimate means. In the case of the Indian invasion of Goa in December 1961, Dutt believed that Nehru had been pushed into a dangerous adventure, giving the friendship with the United States and the United Kingdom, ‘which has been built up so carefully during the past 2/3 years . . . a crushing blow’.118 Strangely enough, he once again re-entered the picture shortly before Nehru’s death on 27 May 1964, when an article appeared in the Bombay

62  Amit R. Das Gupta weekly Blitz that the prime minister had been ready to accept Zhou’s proposal in 1960 but had been stopped by Pant. Dutt and Nehru maintained that no such offer had been made and ‘therefore the question of accepting or rejecting did not arise’. Against the facts as laid out in this chapter, Dutt again kept to that position a decade later,119 when K.P.S. Menon reiterated the story in the Statesman,120 the reasons remaining unknown and incomprehensible.

Conclusion Subimal Dutt was the mastermind behind the strategy pursued at the summit from April 1960. As the talks did not lead to a solution, it is convenient to argue that the concept was stillborn. This, however, ignores that there was no alternative to the attempt to discuss historical borders. Given the topography and a decade of neglecting military preparations, India had no option of resorting to force, which anyway would have been diametrically opposed to Nehru’s policy. India also would have needed powerful allies. Not only would that have ended non-alignment but neither of the superpowers were willing to get involved in the border dispute because they had their own and more pressing problems with China. Therefore, it made sense to resort to classical diplomacy discussing the validity of the respective claims as long as there was some hope that Beijing was willing to play along. After the failure of the Bara Hoti talks, those hopes were vague, but it would have been foolish had India not tried. Those negotiations had probably had better chances to succeed before the Tibetan uprising, which aroused emotions on both sides and let Dutt order archival research that resulted in finding strong evidence for India’s claim to Aksai Chin, the actual bone of content. Thereafter, Zhou’s suggestion to pay tribute both to the realities on the ground and the actual needs of both countries, but not to historical claims, the watershed principle and public feelings became absolutely unacceptable to India which was not even willing to offer but minor amendments. Although Dutt’s strategy did neither lead to an improvement in SinoIndian relations nor prevent the war which nobody foresaw in 1961, it nevertheless had a beneficial effect on India. Whereas China was perceived even in the USSR as unscrupulous, ready to use force and ignoring established diplomatic customs,121 India pursued its aims with peaceful mains via established procedures. Moreover, its claims which, thanks to another initiative of Dutt, were published in the White Paper and the report from 1961, appeared to be reasonable, whereas the Chinese did not bother even providing evidence, seemingly following the principle that might be right. To be in the right and to gain one’s right, however, are two different things. In

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 63 the end, India gambled away its own moral superiority with the invasion of Goa in December 1961, which Dutt, typically, considered a big mistake.122

Notes 1 White Papers: Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged and Agreements Signed between the Governments of India and China, 8 vols., New Delhi: Government of India, Ministry of External Affairs, 1959–1968. 2 Amit Das Gupta, Serving India: A Political Biography of Subimal Dutt, New Delhi: Manohar, 2016. 3 Subimal Dutt, With Nehru in the Foreign Office, Calcutta: Minerva, 1977. 4 Dutt Diary 9, 31 October 1955. 5 British Library (BL), India Office Records (IOR), L/PS/12/4627, ‘Quarterly report for the months from October to December 1945’, Bajpai. 6 Library and Archives Canada (LAC), RG25, vol. 3262, ‘Despatch no. 1198’, 30 November 1951, Chipman. Document kindly provided by Lorenz Lüthi. 7 BL, IOR, L/PS/12/4627, ‘Quarterly report for the months from October to December 1945’, Bajpai. 8 G.S. Bajpai, ‘India and the balance of power’, Indian Year Book of International Affairs, 1952, pp. 1–8. 9 National Archives of India (NAI), MEA, 319-AD/47, ‘Secret report of the Secretariat Reorganization Committee’, 10 August 1947. 10 ‘Note’, 18 November 1950, Nehru, Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd series (SWJN2), vol. 15-II, pp. 342–6. 11 Chandrashekhar Dasgupta, ‘Nehru, Patel and China’, Strategic Analysis, 38(5), (September 2014), pp. 717–24. 12 Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India: A Strategic History of the Nehru Years, Ranikhet: Permanent Black, 2010, pp. 227–8. 13 ‘Answer to a question in parliament’, 20 November 1950, SWJN2, vol. 15-II, p. 348. 14 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 241. 15 Mohammad Yunus, Persons, Passions and Politics, Sahidabad: Vikas, 1980, p. 115. 16 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 237. 17 ‘Minutes of talks’, 10 October 1954, SWJN2, vol. 27, pp. 11–20. 18 ‘Notes’, from 17 July, 13 and 27 August 1954, White Paper I. 19 Ministry of External Affairs Archives (MEAA), 7(3)NGO/56, ‘Secret note’, 17 April 1956, Kaul. 20 MEAA, 7(3)NGO/56, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 24 April 1956, R.K. Nehru. 21 Dutt Diary 10, 29 March 1956. 22 Dutt Diary 10, 6 May 1956. 23 MEAA, 7(3)NGO/56, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 24 April 1956, R.K. Nehru. 24 Dutt Diary 9, 20 February 1956. 25 ‘Note to Krishna Menon’, 6 May 1956, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 33, pp. 474–7. 26 ‘Note for Foreign Secretary Dutt and Joint Secretary T.N. Kaul’, 12 May 1956, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 33, pp. 477–8.

64  Amit R. Das Gupta 27 Dutt Diary 9, 10 November 1955; ‘Note’, 7 September 1956, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 35, p. 514. 28 ‘Note for Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 21 September 1956, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 35, pp. 515–6. 29 Dutt Diary 10, 29 November 1956. 30 ‘Note for Secretary General N.R. Pillai’, 1 January 1957, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 36, p. 614. 31 Nehru Memorial Museum & Library (NMML), Subimal Dutt Papers (SDP), Subject File (SF) 27, ‘Note for Commonwealth Secretary Desai’, 4 May 1957, Dutt. 32 NMML, SDP, SF 27, ‘Confidential letter to Defence Secretary Vellodi’, 4 June 1957, Dutt. 33 MEAA, 3/NGO/58, ‘Top secret note, attached to top secret letter to Chargé d’Affairs Bahadur Singh’, 26 November 1957, Acharya. 34 Amit Das Gupta, ‘Development by consortia: international donors and the development of India, Pakistan, Indonesia and Turkey in the 1960s’, in Marc Frey (ed.), Asian Experiences of Development in the 20th Century, Leipzig: Leipziger Universitäts Verlag, 2009, pp. 98–9. 35 NMML, SDP, SF 27, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 9 May 1957, Dutt. 36 NMML, SDP, SF 27, ‘Telegram to Embassy Beijing’, undated [late April 1957], Dutt. 37 NMML, SDP, SF 31, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 3 February 1958, Dutt. 38 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 245. 39 ‘Note for Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 30 July 1957, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 38, p. 693. 40 MEAA, 3/NGO/58, ‘Top secret letter to Chargé d’Affairs Bahadur Singh’, 26 November 1957, Acharya. 41 NMML, SDP, SF 31, ‘Top secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 8 February 1958, Dutt. 42 NMML, SDP, SF 31, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 24 February 1958, Dutt. 43 NMML, SDP, SF 32, ‘Top secret note for Prime Minister Nehru and Secretary General Pillai’, 1 May 1958, Dutt. 44 NMML, SDP, SF 32, ‘Secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 3 June 1958, Dutt; see also Dutt, With Nehru, p. 117. 45 NMML, SDP, SF 32, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 19 June 1958, Dutt. 46 NMML, SDP, SF 32, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 13 June 1958, Dutt; see also ibid., SF 33, ‘Secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 27 August 1958, Dutt. 47 NMML, SDP, SF 29, ‘Letter to Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 15 June 1958, Nehru. 48 ‘Don’t believe in Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai Nehru told envoy’, The Indian Express, 22 January 2010, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/ dont-believe-in-hindichini-bhaibhai-nehru-told-envoy/570332, accessed 26 January 2016. 49 NMML, SDP, SF 39, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru and Secretary General Pillai’, 29 December 1959, Dutt. 50 NMML, SDP, SF 43, ‘Office order’, 6 April 1960, Dutt. 51 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note for Special Secretary Chakravarty and Director Gopal’, 27 December 1959, Dutt.

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 65 52 NMML, SDP, SF 33, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 8 October 1958, Dutt. 53 NMML, SDP, SF 33, ‘Secret note for Joint Secretary (E)’, 23 September 1958, Dutt. 54 NMML, SDP, SF 33, ‘Secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 8 October 1958, Dutt. 55 ‘Informal note’, 18 October 1958, White Paper vol. I, pp. 26–8. 56 ‘Note for Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 4 November 1958, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 45, pp. 697–8. 57 Dutt, With Nehru, p. 119. 58 NMML, SDP, SF 34, ‘Secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 11 December 1958, Dutt. 59 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Zhou Enlai’, 14 December 1958, Nehru, White Paper vol. I, pp. 48–52; see also SWJN2, vol. 45, pp. 702–6. 60 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 23 January 1959, Zhou, White Paper vol. I, pp. 52–5. 61 NMML, SDP, SF 35, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 13 February 1959, Dutt. 62 Dutt, With Nehru, p. 279. 63 NMML, SDP, SF 35, ‘Top secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 9 January 1959, Dutt; see also SWJN2, vol. 46, pp. 682–3. 64 ‘Note for Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 5 October 1958, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 44, pp. 570–1. 65 M. Taylor Fravel, Strong Borders, Secure Nation: Cooperation and Conflict in China’s Territorial Disputes, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, p. 81. 66 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Zhou Enlai’, 22 March 1959, Nehru, SWJN2, vol. 47, pp. 451–4. 67 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note for Joint Secretary (E)’, 25 November 1959, Dutt. 68 NMML, SDP, SF 36, ‘Note for Joint Secretary (E)’, 22 June 1959, Dutt. 69 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Top secret note for Joint Secretary (E)’, 1 October 1959, Dutt. 70 ‘Statement to Foreign Secretary Dutt’, 16 May 1959, Pan Tsu-li, White Paper vol. I, pp. 73–7. 71 MEAA, 3/5/NGO/59, ‘Secret and personal letter no. 297-PMO/59 to Political Officer Sikkim Pant’, 23 May 1959, Nehru. 72 Sarvepalli Gopal, Nehru: A Biography, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1984, vol. 3, p. 93. 73 ‘Statement to Ambassador Pan Tsun-li’, 23 May 1959, Dutt, White Paper vol. I, pp. 77–9. 74 MEAA, 3/5/NGO/59, ‘Secret note’, 23 May 1959, Paranjpe, Dutt. 75 NMML, SDP, SF 37, ‘Telegram to the missions in Tibet and Sikkim’, 23 July 1959, Dutt. 76 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Letter to Home Secretary B.N. Jha’, 28 December 1959, Dutt. 77 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note for Deputy Secretary (E)’, 9 November 1959, Dutt. 78 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Secret note for Joint Secretary Fateh Singh, Ministry of Home Affairs’, 3 December 1959, Dutt. 79 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note’, 4 December 1959, Dutt; see also chapter by Payal Banerjee.

66  Amit R. Das Gupta 80 NMML, SDP, SF 41, ‘Top secret note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 14 January 1960, Dutt. 81 Ministry of External Affairs, White Paper: Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China, 1954–1959, Delhi, 1959. 82 ‘Telegram to the State Department’, 5 September 1959, Brown, FRUS, 1958–1960, vol. XIX, doc. 385. 83 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 8 September 1959, Zhou, White Paper vol. II, pp. 40–51. 84 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Zhou Enlai’, 26 September 1959, Nehru, White Paper vol. II, pp. 51–73. 85 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 256. 86 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 7 November 1959, Zhou, White Paper vol. III, pp. 45–6. 87 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Zhou Enlai’, 16 November 1959, Nehru, White Paper vol. III, pp. 47–51. 88 ‘Letter to Prime Minister Nehru’, 17 December 1959, Zhou, White Paper vol. III, pp. 52–7. 89 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note’, 20 December 1959, Dutt. 90 ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 5 October 1959, Dutt. 91 NMML, SDP, SF 39, ‘Secret letter no. FS/991/59 to Director Gopal, Officer on Special Duty Gopalachari, and Joint Secretary K.L. Mehta’, 6 October 1959, Dutt. 92 Steven A. Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990, pp. 82–3. 93 NMML, SDP, SF 39, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 12 October 1959, Dutt. 94 NMML, SDP, SF 38, ‘Note for Deputy Secretary (E) and Deputy Director Gopalachari’, 23 November 1959, Dutt. 95 NMML, SDP, SF 39, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 24 November 1959, Dutt. 96 Amit Das Gupta, ‘South Asia and Superpower Competition 1954 to 1972’, Asian Affairs, 26(4), (October–December 2004), pp. 18–19. 97 Gopal, Nehru, vol. 3, p. 104. 98 NMML, SDP, SF 24, ‘Top secret memorandum of conversation’, 13 ­February 1960, P.N. Kaul. 99 NMML, SDP, SF 45, ‘Note for Director Mehta and Officer on Special Duty Gopalachari’, 14 November 1960, Dutt; see also chapters by Eric ˇ avoški. Hyer and Jovan C 100 Dutt Diary 11, 7 March 1960. 101 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 262–3. 102 Neville Maxwell, India’s China War, London: Cape, 1970, p. 161. 103 Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 263. 104 NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers, SF 24, ‘Top secret record of conversation II’, 20 April 1960, Haksar. 105 Dutt Diary 11, 24 April 1960. 106 Hoffmann, China Crisis, p. 46. 107 Hoffmann, China Crisis, p. 255. 108 Dutt Diary 11, 20 April 1960. 109 Dutt, With Nehru, p. 128.

Prehistory of the Sino-Indian border war 67 10 Dutt Diary 11, 21 April 1960. 1 111 Dutt Diary 11, 25 April 1960. For the undated verbatim protocol of the meeting on 25 April 1960 see NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers, SF 26. 112 Dutt Diary 11, 20 April 1960 and 24 April 1960. 113 Dutt Diary 11, 23 April 1960. 114 NMML, SDP, SF 57, ‘Note for Prime Minister Nehru’, 27 May 1960, Dutt; for the talks see Jagath S. Mehta, Negotiating for India: Resolving Problems through Diplomacy (Seven Case Studies 1958–1978), New Delhi: Manohar, 2007, pp. 87–9. 115 Report of the Officials of the Governments of India and the People’s Republic of China on the Boundary Question, Delhi: MEA, 1961. 116 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 273–9. 117 Quoted after Raghavan, War and Peace, p. 274. 118 Dutt Diary 12, 30 December 1961. 119 NMML, SDP, SF 74, ‘Top secret, personal letter to High Commissioner Dutt’, 31 January 1974, K.C. Pant, Minister of Irrigation and Power. 120 ‘India’s relations with China – chances missed, says K.P.S. Menon’, The Statesman, 7 January 1974. 121 See chapter by Andreas Hilger. 122 Dutt Diary 12, 30 December 1961.

3 From ‘Hindi-Chini Bhai-Bhai’ to ‘international class struggle’ against Nehru China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 Dai Chaowu On 20 October 1962, the Chinese People’s Liberation Army (PLA) launched a major offensive at several points along the entire disputed frontier with India. PLA troops pushed across the McMahon Line at the eastern sector, and China’s Xinjiang border troops eliminated 43 checkpoints which India had established since the spring of 1962. The war of ‘self-defence and counterattack’ marked the ultimate end of ‘Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai’, the Sino-Indian friendship proclaimed in the mid-1950s. This ‘long forgotten war’ has lately received much scholarly attention in China. Recent literature has focused on the interaction between Mao’s domestic power struggle, national security concerns and illusions of grandeur. Chinese researchers in general concluded that the grounds of the war lay in both India’s aggressive policy towards territories claimed by China and India’s refusal to negotiate about the disputed boundary line.1 Yet, several major questions remain: why had Beijing kept silent about the Indian claim and partial occupation of territories south of the Himalayan crest-line in 1951–54? Why did China seek a military solution to the border conflict in October 1962? Why did Beijing’s leaders decide on a ceasefire and unilateral withdrawal following the PLA victory? And what was the impact of the Sino-Indian border dispute on China’s foreign policy in the 1960s? Documents that until recently were available in the Chinese Foreign Ministry Archives help to answer these questions, explore the Cold War influence on China’s foreign policy, provide a better understanding of decision-making on a number of acute issues and shed light on the effects of domestic policies on Beijing’s actions on the international stage. This chapter provides an overview of the main developments of China’s policy towards India from the early 1950s through the early 1960s, particularly with regard to how foreign and domestic priorities interacted. Focusing on

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 69 the Tibetan question and the frontier dispute, the chapter explains why the Chinese government kept silent about the Indian occupation of the disputed territories south of the McMahon Line and why the border disputes re-emerged on the priority list of the leaders of the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) in the early 1960s, eventually leading to war. It will show the key consideration of the CCP’s leaders in formulating their perception of Indian domestic and foreign policies when they revised their approach after the Tibetan rebellion in 1959.

Peaceful co-existence and China’s strategy of delay in the frontier dispute with India The independence of India in 1947 and the establishment of the People’s Republic of China two years later marked the beginning of a new era in the relations between the two countries. The entirely different reading of the history of the common boundary is the root of the border dispute and even the war in 1962. As early as in 1946, 1947 and 1949, the Chinese Nationalist Government repeatedly protested against inroads which first the British colonial administration and then the Government of Independent India made into what Delhi eventually called the North East Frontier Administration (NEFA) by 1951. The nationalist government reminded authorities in India that China had never recognized the 1914 Simla Convention and the legitimacy of the McMahon Line. In October 1947, the Tibetan government formally asked India to return to Tibet a ‘wide swath of territory from Ladakh to Assam . . . including Sikkim and the Darjeeling district’.2 With the Chinese occupation of Tibet, India’s policy in the border areas became more assertive, particularly with the armed occupation of Tawang District, in the northwest of NEFA, on 12 February 1951. Beijing, however, neither commented nor protested against India’s advance until 1959. The official explanation about China’s silence was that Beijing had little information about what had happened in Tawang and other areas south of the McMahon Line. The CCP leadership was preoccupied with consolidating its rule in China proper, fighting the Korean War and nationalizing the economy. Therefore, it was not until late 1956 that Zhou Enlai raised the issue during his visit to New Delhi.3 China’s strategy at the time was to avoid making or retracting any explicit border claims.4 Mao Zedong, Zhou Enlai and other central leaders knew, on the basis of an internal military report from April 1952, about the occupation of Tawang and other areas south of the McMahon Line, which it considered Chinese territories.5 Zhang Jingwu, the central government representative in Lhasa, submitted a report to the Ministry of Foreign Affairs on 21 October 1953, after

70  Dai Chaowu he and Yang Gongsu, the director of Tibet Bureau of Foreign Affairs, had studied documents related to the Simla Convention and the map with the McMahon Line which they found in possession of the Kashag, the local government of Tibet. Zhang and Yang focused on the Indian occupation of the areas south of the McMahon Line and Delhi’s statements that there was no territorial dispute. They concluded that ‘it was a trick from the Indian side in order to keep China acquiesced and to legalize India’s occupation of Tawang and other areas south of the McMahon Line’. After consulting officials in the Kashag, they stressed that the Simla Convention and the legality of the McMahon Line were the basis for India’s extraterritorial claims in Tibet. According to their suggestions, the central government should not only proclaim old treaties invalid but also reiterate that the Simla Convention had never been recognized by any Chinese government. At the same time, it should stick to its position that the Indian side must withdraw from the recently occupied areas before the start of any negotiations on the final line of the common border. Zhang and Yang admitted, however, that in the current situation it was impossible to settle all issues related to the convention and the border. Therefore, it might be disadvantageous for China to push for a solution of all territorial and boundary problems while, at the same time, it would be of utmost importance to take a clear position on all issues. Matters such as trade, troops, pilgrimage and the rights of Indian commercial representatives, which the Indians had mentioned in their diplomatic notes, also should be negotiated. Zhang and Yang concluded that in the current climate, ‘we can and need to solve these problems’.6 Similarly, Tibetan officials had reported in the time of the Indian occupation of Tawang to the Kashag, to the Bureau of the Foreign Affairs in Tibet and to Yang Gongsu.7 In January 1953, Yang informed Beijing that Tibetan representatives in Tawang were under house arrest.8 Even after Beijing knew what had happened in Tawang, Zhang’s and Yang’s proposals were not accepted by the central government. When Yang went to Beijing to attend the Sino-Indian negotiations of the Agreement between the Republic of India and the People’s Republic of China on Trade and Intercourse between Tibet region of China and India in the first months of 1954, he was told that the border issue was not on the agenda and would not be included in the agreement, signed on 29 April 1954.9 One of the most important reasons for Beijing to adopt such a strategy was that CCP leaders did not yet believe the conditions ripe for settlement because ‘Tibet is not brought under the complete control by us militarily and politically’ and thus ‘our position in Tibet will be unstable for the next one and two years’. Meanwhile, considering the complex situations in the territories south of the McMahon Line, the Chinese leaders believed that ‘we only raise the issue to recover these regions after we are well prepared’.10

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 71 Meanwhile, India had explained its position regarding the McMahon Line several times. In March 1951, Counsellor T. N. Kaul, for example, told Chen Jiakang, vice director-general of the Department of Asian Affairs in the Chinese Foreign Affairs Ministry, that unless the McMahon Line was mutually accepted as the official boundary, there would be a problem in the bilateral relationship. Kaul complained about PRC maps showing some Indian-claimed territories as a part of Tibet. Chen replied that he would report what he considered Kaul’s personal opinion on the boundary to Zhou Enlai, while he did not believe that Kaul’s statements ‘represented the general viewpoints of the Indian government’.11 Nevertheless, in a conversation with Ambassador K. M. Panikkar on 27 September 1951, Zhou Enlai stated that ‘there was no territorial dispute or controversy between India and China’.12 Stabilizing the Tibetan frontier was in the common interest of India, Nepal and China and could be reached through early discussions.13 On 1 June 1951, Zhou Gengsheng, one of the top jurists in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs who had participated in drafting the first constitution of the PRC, explored the background of the Simla Conference and the actual convention of 1914. Although he did not mention the McMahon Line explicitly in his note, he pointed out that the Northern Warlords Government, the internationally recognized government in China at the time, had agreed to the draft convention in 1914 but not signed the final one. It actually disagreed with how the line between Inner and Outer Tibet and the line between Tibet and the neighbouring Chinese provinces was defined. Even if the Northern Warlords Government had not explicitly objected to the McMahon Line, Zhou Gengsheng still stressed that the Simla Convention was invalid without the ratification of the Chinese government, regardless of the reasons for not ratifying.14 China’s India policy at this juncture, especially its delaying strategy with regard to the frontier dispute, was heavily shaped by the perception of an asymmetrical salience of bilateral relations. At the outset, the CCP leaders had denounced Nehru and his government as ‘reactionary’ and ‘imperialist vassal’ because of his policies towards the Indian Communist Party. As India became China’s major channel to the Western world, Beijing began to re-evaluate Delhi’s role. When Beijing needed Indian help to repatriate the Prisoners of War of the Korean War in 1953, to participate at the Bandung Conference in April 1955 and to establish informal Sino-American ambassadorial talks in Geneva (later in Warsaw) in the same year, the CCP leadership was satisfied with Nehru’s policies of peace. Mao himself saw India as ‘an oppressed nation and a state led by patriotic groups or parties rather than communist parties’.15 This belief stood in the background of the Sino-Indian honeymoon, especially after the 1954 Agreement over Tibet.

72  Dai Chaowu Second, the Tibetan-Indian economic and trade relations in the early 1950s, to a great degree, conditioned the major events in Sino-Indian relations in general and the CCP’s strategy of handling the McMahon Line in particular. Historically, because of its shortage of food, Tibet had to purchase a large amount of food grains from its neighbours, especially ­Bhutan, Sikkim and Nepal, to meet the demand. The arrival of PLA troops in 1951 exacerbated the situation. Most importantly, nearly all vital commodities had to be imported from or via India while the latter had been Tibetan largest export market of wool and other local products. The government in Beijing believed that Indian administration under Nehru was aware of this situation, and that it manipulated the economic interactions to render pressure on China. It saw India’s trade control as an ‘embargo’ against Tibet which was closely related to the developments in Tibet at that time. When PLA troops entered Tibet in 1951, New Delhi seemed to try to minimize Beijing’s military presence by using its economic leverage in Indian-Tibetan trade. Also, in November 1950, India had forced Bhutan to ban exports of rice to Tibet, and India itself had increased import tariffs by 30 percent on Tibetan wool in the winter of 1950.16 Nehru understood the connection between food supplies and the military presence of the PLA in Tibet as he believed that Chinese troops in Tibet ‘had to be withdrawn because of difficulties of feeding them there. . . . It is very difficult to send food across the Gobi desert and through a good bit of China’.17 Delhi imposed what Beijing considered an outright trade ‘embargo’ against Tibet in the period between the PLA entry into Tibet and the Sino-Indian Agreement of 1954. On 8 December 1952, Balraj Krishna Kapur, the Indian Political Officer in Sikkim, announced that new export control regulations for Tibet would be implemented.18 The Tibet Bureau of Foreign Affairs and the Chinese embassy in Delhi reported to Beijing the news of the Indian embargo which Tibetan traders in Kalimpong had provided, of the Indian implementation of the embargo and the Kashag’s response to it.19 The Chinese embassy in Delhi suggested countermeasures, such as buying in bulk, stock-piling of goods and even encouraging Indian traders to smuggle. Yet the CCP leadership did not accept the advice by Yuan Zhongxian, the Chinese ambassador to India, when he suggested that the way to break the embargo was ‘to offer high prices for imported goods which Tibet needed most and to sell cheaply the raw materials which Tibetans desperately needed to export’.20 The CCP leadership concluded in March 1953 that it would be improper for the central government to negotiate formally on this matter with Delhi because such measures were within the authority of Tibet’s internal affairs.21 A Sino-Indian Agreement from May 1952 stipulated that India would transport Chinese rice to Tibet with the ensuing high charges and Beijing

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 73 had to sell rice and sorghum at low prices to India.22 Nehru believed that the fact that India was the main route of supplies to Tibet for the Chinese ‘has a certain psychological significance, demonstrating the reliance of Tibet on India’. However, he insisted that such an arrangement for transportation ‘as part of general settlement of our interests in Tibet’ involved ‘political interests such as affirmation of the frontier’.23 The politics of geography in the end had given India an advantageous position in dealing with China over many issues.

Emerging divergence upon the frontier and Chinese preparations for negotiation One of the critical factors causing the CCP leaders to reconsider the wisdom of the delaying strategy was Indian activities in the border areas. From the Chinese perspective, it was India that withdrew old maps, published revised maps and occupied disputed territories along the passes of the middle and eastern sector even after the Agreement over Tibet in 1954. During his visit to Beijing in October 1954, Nehru for the first time formally complained to Zhou that Chinese maps showed vast tracts of territory claimed by India as Chinese.24 In following years, the Indian government continually urged China to correct its maps in accordance with the Indian claims.25 In September 1956, Indian and Chinese forces faced each other in the area of Chuje [Spiti] over the dispute about Wu Je [Bara Hoti] after Nehru had ordered that Indian forces ‘must on no account withdraw from their present position’ and ‘must remain there even at the cost of conflict’.26 Between April and July in 1958, China and India for the first time held formal talks over Wu Je – but without result. For the Chinese leadership, the events at Wu Je increased its awareness of the border problems with India.27 Meanwhile, the developments in Tibet compelled the CCP leadership to take the border dispute with India more seriously. In 1956, armed resistance had broken out in the Kham areas and had spread to other parts of Tibet. Complaining about CCP reform policies in the Kham areas, the Dalai Lama after his attendance of the Buddha’s 2,500 birthday anniversary in India in late 1956 was unwilling to return to Lhasa.28 Given his key role as spiritual leader and as one of the pillars of Beijing’s control over Tibet, this was a major blow to China’s reputation and its rule in Tibet.29 One of the best ways out of such predicament, in the CCP leadership’s judgment, was to use Zhou’s visit to Delhi in December 1956 to ask Nehru to persuade the Dalai Lama to return.30 In talks with Nehru on 31 December 1956 and 1 January 1957, Zhou referred to the McMahon Line as ‘an accomplished fact’. Although no central government of China had ever recognized it, the PRC ‘should accept

74  Dai Chaowu it’ upon the condition that the issue had to be consulted with the Tibetans once the Dalai Lama had returned to Lhasa.31 In 1958, New Delhi also claimed that the Aksai Chin road, a highway which China had constructed to connect Xinjiang and Tibet and publicly announced in September 1957, lay in Indian territory. The strategic importance of this road was primarily to solve the logistical difficulties faced by the PLA in Aksai Chin and to establish effective control over Tibet.32 Given these developments, it became imperative for the CCP leadership to prepare for alternative solutions. In May 1958, the CCP decided to establish the ‘Boundary Committee’ under the State Council to conduct and coordinate the work concerning the boundary issues,33 which were meant to be settled within a period of five to ten years. The Sino-Burmese boundary was given priority, given the hitherto rather friendly relations with India. More importantly, the CCP had still not acquired sufficient information about the border areas. Therefore, the India issue was scheduled as the second on the list of priorities. The new agency, chaired by Vice Foreign Minister Zeng Yongquan, comprised members from the key departments and ministries related to national security issues. In order to tackle open questions in a phased manner, the major tasks of the committee were to survey the boundary lines comprehensively, to organize the relevant authorities to investigate and to collect materials and to assess the facts on the ground. Within two to three years, the committee was supposed to become knowledgeable of every un-demarcated section of the border. It was required to justify fully every major decision on the exact line of the border to the CCP leadership. The committee was divided into two subgroups; one dealt with issues of boundaries with socialist, the other with capitalist states, including India. One of the major undertakings in 1958 was to study the situation along the Sino-Indian border. In April, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs in an instruction to seven provinces and autonomous regions at the border required all of them to ‘fully collect material and prepare studies in order to provide the ministry with information and opinions about the boundary issues’. The investigation, the Ministry of Foreign Affairs stressed, should focus on the problems related to un-demarcated sections and disputed areas.34 The CCP leadership highlighted, in its instruction of 13 December 1958, that China was encountering many difficulties, which had increased the negative influence on the national defence and the boundary negotiations with neighbouring countries. Those included ‘our limited knowledge about the frontiers, and the lack of historical materials, diplomatic files and accurate maps of the boundary lines’. In Beijing’s perspective, although these issues could not be solved quickly according to Chinese wishes, ‘more attention must be paid and the first-phase preparations must be made in order to

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 75 seize the initiative when we must and can solve the boundary issue with a neighbouring country’.35 Obviously, Beijing was aware that the solution of border disputes had to be based on a mix of historical claims, national security needs and concerns about good relations with the neighbours. Under the guidance of the Boundary Committee, the survey teams investigated the western and the eastern sector of the Sino-Indian border. After the border clashes at Longju and the Kongka Pass in 1959, China accelerated the survey, with the western sector being the main focus. Survey Team No.101 had started to work in Xinjiang and Team No.102 in the western parts of Tibet. In 1960, Team No.103, which was composed of members from the National Survey Bureau and Survey Bureau of Joint Chiefs of Staff, was established with the purpose of making a detailed survey of the eastern sector but its work was suspended due to the unsafe situation in Tibet following the rebellion in 1959.

The Tibetan Rebellion, the Zhou–Nehru summit in 1960 and the road to border war The Tibetan rebellion brought about a fundamental change in the attitude of the CCP leaders towards India and Nehru himself and marked the turning point of Sino-Indian relations. When the PLA began to suppress the rebellion, the PRC believed that India implemented the trade embargo against Tibet once more while the CCP leadership adopted unyielding positions different from the early 1950s. Reforms introduced by the CCP in Tibet included the abolishment of Tibetan money, setting a deadline for its exchange and banning all foreign currency in Tibet. As a result, Indian businesspersons suffered significant losses. Delhi’s continued protests on this issue did not fare well in the changed political situation in Beijing.36 The CCP leaders believed that the Tibetan rebellion was the ‘last fierce and serious class struggle on the [Asian/Chinese] mainland’. In their view, it was incited by Tibetan rebellious groups and by a section of India’s national bourgeoisie, which the Indian government and Nehru himself had encouraged and enticed while also supporting Tibetan ‘splittists’ who opposed Beijing’s authority.37 Mao pointed out that even after repressing the Tibetan rebellion China should ‘let the Indian authorities keep on doing unrighteous deeds’ but ‘settle accounts with them later’. The very day when People’s Daily published The Revolution in Tibet and Nehru’s Philosophy on 6 May 1959, Mao told delegations of socialist countries that because of the rebellion ‘there are many ghosts’ which acted as ‘imperialist stooges and reactionaries’ in Asia. As to Nehru, Mao decided to ‘criticize him sharply and not to be afraid of making him feel agitated or of provoking a break with him. We should carry out the struggle until the end’.38

76  Dai Chaowu Most importantly, Beijing’s evaluation of Delhi’s response to the Tibetan rebellion shed new light on the roots, processes and effects of the SinoIndian border dispute. Beijing believed the boundary dispute was provoked by India, a ‘reactionary nationalist state’. Furthermore, the CCP leaders asserted, Nehru was playing the border card to tighten his control over rightist political groups in India and over the Congress Party, and to suppress leftist groups. In doing so, he also sought economic and military aid from both Washington and Moscow.39 When PLA troops pursued Tibetan rebels fleeing south into India, Nepal and Bhutan, they approached the disputed border areas to secure the frontier. At the same time, Indian units deployed additional troops at the boundary to deal with the influx of Tibetan refugees and defend the border against possible Chinese advances. In this context, armed clashes occurred between Chinese and Indian forces along the McMahon Line as well as in the Western Sector. Skirmishes at Longju on 25 August and at the Kongka Pass on 21 October 1959 signalled the beginning of a new stage in Sino-Indian relations. Those clashes led to a major change in China’s policy. On 3 November, Mao chaired an important meeting in Hangzhou and instructed Zhou to offer two proposals to Delhi: the creation of a demilitarized zone by means of a 20-kilometre withdrawal by each side from the line of actual control, and talks between prime ministers. Although repeatedly expressing its frustration about India’s refusal to negotiate, Beijing tried to reach a compromise solution by means of diplomacy. Based on a report by the Intelligence Department of the PLA General Staff from September 1959, the Chinese leaders decided that they were willing to accept Indian control over the disputed territories at the eastern sector if India in return accepted China’s control over parts of Aksai Chin.40 China was willing to offer this compromise because of the many difficulties Beijing had to handle in the wake of the Tibetan Rebellion. For example, India’s ‘trade embargo’ in 1959 had restricted Beijing’s control of Tibet. In January 1960, the CCP leadership thus had decided to settle the dispute with India through negotiations based on the principle of ‘give and take’. Therefore, Zhou came to Delhi in April 1960 to resolve the border dispute with India on the basis of the ‘package deal’. Zhou and other CCP leaders were optimistic about the chances of this proposal. Before his departure, Zhou Enlai presented a ‘Plan for the Talks between the Chinese Premier and the Indian Prime Minister on the Border Problems’ to the CCP leadership, in which he analysed the possible prospects of his visit. Not confident that the meeting would be wholly successful, he still did not believe that it would be a total failure. The most likely result of it was that the two sides would ‘reach some kind of agreement to help calm the

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 77 tensions’.41 Before Zhou visited Delhi, China signed a border agreement with Burma, which rather favoured the latter; the idea was to set a precedent for future negotiations with India and other countries.42 At the April 1960 summit meeting with Nehru, Zhou hoped to reach a consensus of at least the de facto and perhaps even the de jure recognition of the McMahon Line, while India was supposed to accept Chinese control over Aksai Chin. The meeting was doomed to failure when Nehru in the opening session on April 20 stressed that ‘this frontier has been considered to be a firm one’ and ‘the question of demarcation of the entire frontier does not arise’.43 The only result was talks among officials of both sides until the end of the year, precisely naming areas of dispute and mutual examination of each side’s historical materials. When Zhou came back from Delhi with empty hands, the CCP leadership ordered the establishment of new military posts in the western sector. However, Chinese troops at the same time were ordered not to patrol until after the new posts were set up. In case of encounters with Indian forces, PLA units ‘should persuade them to leave and avoid armed conflict’.44 India responded with similar measures along the actual line of control in order to prevent the Chinese from advancing any further.45 The Indian Forward Policy in both border sectors evoked forceful reactions from the Chinese side. Chinese diplomatic protest notes warned that ‘it would be very erroneous and dangerous should the Indian Government take China’s attitude of restraint and tolerance as an expression of weakness’. Beijing cautioned that if Delhi continued to establish posts in the western sector, ‘the Chinese Government would have every reason to send troops to cross the so-called McMahon Line and enter the vast area between the crest of the Himalayas and their southern foot’. India’s activities in the western sector would be considered ‘deliberate attempts to realize by force the territorial claims put forward by the Indian Government’, which ‘is most dangerous and may lead to grave consequences’.46 In April 1962, India intensified the implementation of the ‘Forward Policy’ in the eastern sector. China now prepared for the possibility of a war. On 14 May, Zhou chaired a meeting with senior military commanders and ordered them to complete preparations by the end of June.47 The PLA General Staff issued an order for war preparations on 29 May. Subsequently in early June, the Tibet No. 419 Unit was established as frontline headquarters to command a future battle in the eastern sector. For the western sector, the Xinjiang Military District established its frontline headquarters at Kangwaxi. After the clash in the Galwan Valley in July, which compelled Indian troops to retreat, Mao issued a 20-character order: ‘Resolutely do not yield, but strive to avoid bloodshed; create interlocking positions for long-term armed coexistence.’48

78  Dai Chaowu Throughout the summer of 1962, Beijing sought talks with Delhi. On 23 July, Zhou instructed Chen Yi while in Geneva for the Laos conference to arrange a meeting with Indian Defence Minister V.K. Krishna Menon to ‘explain China’s consistent position to settle the dispute with negotiation and discuss arrangements for resuming negotiations’.49 After the Chen–Menon talk, Beijing proposed negotiations on three occasions: On 4 August, after Nehru had indicated his willingness to talk; on 13 September, following a standoff over Thag La; and on 2 October, when Mao approved at the Politburo Standing Committee meeting that the scheduled negotiations between China and India should be held on 15 October.50 Each time, India insisted on China’s prior withdrawal from the disputed areas in Aksai Chin as a precondition. As it considered this unacceptable, the CCP leadership decided that war was inevitable. On 8 October, the PLA General Staff Headquarters issued and advanced an order to launch an attack in the eastern sector. In early October, after listening to the operational disposition report of the General Staff, Mao emphasized that ‘winning the war must be our goal’.51 On 17 October, he authorized the order and on 20 October the PLA troops began to shell Indian positions. It is important to note that the Sino-Indian border dispute illustrates how top CCP leaders understood and analysed their deep, concurrent differences with the Communist Party of the Soviet Union over ideology and over basic approaches to issues of foreign policy. In 1959, the C ­ hinese leaders concluded that the unprincipled accommodation of Nehru would not be in the interest of Sino-Indian friendship and not be at all helping him to take up a friendlier attitude towards the socialist countries.52 For Beijing’s leaders, conducting the war of ‘self-defence and counterattack’ against India along the disputed border was the best way to ‘pursuing unity through struggle’.53 During the war, a senior Chinese official in the Ministry of Foreign Affairs at the occasion of a party quarrelled with a Soviet counterpart and denounced Moscow’s stand as disgrace to Leninism.54 Zhang Hanfu detailed Chinese grievances against Khrushchev in the National Foreign Affairs Work Meeting on 7 November 1962. He blamed Khrushchev for having ‘sold out our nation, betrayed [his] ally’, and having provided military equipment to India.55 The events of October 1962 constituted ‘a turning point in the development of Sino-Soviet relations and signified the beginning of the open split between the two countries’.56 From 20 to 25 October, PLA units overran India’s frontline posts both at the eastern and the western sector while Zhou Enlai offered Nehru a three-point proposal according to which both sides should withdraw their troops 20 kilometres from the line of actual control on 7 November 1959. Zhou reiterated the proposal on 4 November, only to receive Nehru’s rebuff. Some days after the start of the second phase of PLA operations on

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 79 17 November, Beijing announced that a ceasefire would come into effect on 22 November, and the PLA withdrawal would begin by 1 December. Further demonstrations of generosity were to follow as all captured equipment and personnel would be repatriated to India in order to create favourable conditions and a constructive atmosphere for Afro-Asian mediation. The conference of the Six Colombo nations – Ceylon, Burma, Cambodia, Ghana, Indonesia and the United Arab Republic – on 10–12 December proposed that China should fulfil its commitment to withdraw the PLA troops 20 kilometres behind their military posts while Indian armed forces would move up to the McMahon Line.57 Beijing’s response to the Colombo proposals was closely related to China’s main aim in the war. The PRC praised the ‘constructive’ initiative as it proposed a ‘conference’ which would be the best way to promote the peaceful settlement of the boundary question. Beijing expected that the Colombo conference would play a significant role in promoting direct negotiations between China and India. For these reasons, it tried to find out the general attitude of the Afro-Asian nations towards the war. In January 1963 in talks with Ceylon’s Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, Zhou pointed out that because the proposals advocated that China should make concessions in both the western and eastern sectors, the Indians would not be induced to make any concessions on both sectors at all.58 When New Delhi accepted the Colombo proposals only with preconditions, Beijing concluded that Nehru was unwilling to negotiate territorial changes at all. By the end of June 1963, the CCP leaders held that the proposals were not only ‘imprecise and inconsistent’, but unfair and ‘of severe defect’.59 China and India thus neither entered negotiations nor did reach any agreement; the mediation of the Colombo Conference power had failed.60

Conclusion The detailed exploration of the developments of China’s policies towards India in general and towards the Sino-Indian border dispute particular is valuable for a variety of reasons. First, because of India’s unique role as the major channel of communication between China and the West, and because of Chinese dependence on Indian exports to Tibet, the perceived asymmetrical nature of bilateral relations had dominated developments even before the Tibetan rebellion in 1959. In Chinese eyes, this asymmetry had given India an advantageous status with regard to many issues, particularly the boundary. Second, China’s India policy between 1949 and 1963 illustrates changes in the strategies pursued in Tibet. Before 1959, from the perspective of the CCP leadership, the internal stability in Tibet was more

80  Dai Chaowu critical than the border dispute with India – a stability in which the Dalai Lama was considered an irreplaceable player. With the Dalai Lama’s escape to India in 1959, the situation in Tibet had changed fundamentally. The Sino-Indian border war, in the context of Mao’s ‘revolutionary diplomacy’, embodied the new understanding of nationalist states. The Chinese leaders persisted in the view that ‘with the sharpening of social contradictions at home and class struggles in the world, the bourgeoisie in some independent countries, especially the big bourgeoisie, are increasingly throwing in their lot with imperialism and adopting anti-people, anti-Communist, and counterrevolutionary policies’. In this view, Nehru’s policies towards Tibet and the Sino-Indian boundary issue were by no means accidental, but were determined by ‘the class nature of India’s national bourgeoisie in close collaboration with imperialism’. The best way to teach such ‘reactionary nationalists’ a lesson, in the judgment of the CCP leaders, was to ‘thump them severely’.61 Judged by the CCP leaders as ‘international class struggle’, the war of ‘self-defence and counterattack’ was supposed to play a major role in ‘showing Nehru in his true colours as a reactionary nationalist’. In addition to debunking Nehru’s peaceful non-aligned policy, the war was supposed to expose India’s reactionary anti-China policies and its plot aimed against the world’s people which the imperialists had instigated. Teaching Nehru a lesson and forcing him to take up Beijing’s proposal for direct negotiations were the main reasons for the CCP leadership to launch an attack.62 Finally, for the CCP leaders, one of the primary goals of the Sino-Indian border war was to demonstrate to Moscow the truth of Beijing’s strategy on how to deal with nationalist countries. Moreover, in Beijing’s eyes, the war would ‘keep the Khrushchev clique in a vexing situation’.63 When it broke out, the CCP leaders believed that the frontier forces in Tibet and Xinjiang were in a joint battlefront against the reactionary Nehru and Soviet revisionism, a struggle ‘necessary and unavoidable’. Mao himself later saw the war as a military battle on the political front or political battle on the military front.64

Notes 1 Wang Hongwei, Xima Layasan Qingjie: Zhongyin guanxi yanjiu [The Sentiment of the Himalayas: A Study of China-Indian Relations], Beijing: Zhongguo Zangxue Chubanshe, 1998; Xu Yan, Zhongyin Bianjie Zhizhan lishi zhenxiang [True History of the Sino-Indian Border War], Hong Kong: Tian Di Tushu Gongsi, 1993. 2 Yang Gongsu, Zhongguo Fandui Waiguo Gansheqinlue Xizangdifang Douzhengshi [History of China’s Resistance against Foreign Powers’ Aggression and Interference in Tibet], Beijing: Zhongguo Zangxue Chubanshe, 2001, p. 226.

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 81 3 Zhongyin Bianjie Ziwei Fanji Zuozhan Shi Bianxiezu [The Editorial Team of History of the Sino-Indian Border War of Self-defensive Counter Attack], ed., Zhongyin Bianjie Ziwei Fanji Zuozhanshi [History of the Sino-Indian Border War of Self-defensive Counter Attack], Beijing: Junshi Kexue Chubanshe, 1994, p. 63. 4 Yang Gongsu, Cangsang Jiushinian: Yige Waijiao Teshi de Huiyi [The Life Story of a Chinese Diplomat: The Memoirs of Yang Gong Su], Haikou: Hainan Chubanshe, 1999, pp. 215–6. 5 Archive of Ministry of Foreign Affairs of the People’s Republic of China (PRC FMA), 105–00119–01, ‘Collections of the current military, political, and economic conditions in Tibet’, 12 April 1952. 6 PRC FMA, 105–00032–23, ‘Telegram from Zhang Jingwu to the Ministry of the Foreign Affairs’, 21 October 1953. 7 Tudeng Qunpei, ‘Witness to the Indian Army’s occupation of Tawang’, in Material Research committee of Culture and History of the Tibetan Political Consultative Conference (ed.), Xizang Wenshi Ziliao Xuanji [Selected Materials of Tibetan Culture and History], vol. 10, Beijing: Minzu ­Chubanshe, 1989, pp. 19–20. 8 PRC FMA, 105–00116–05, ‘Telegram from Yang Gongsu to the Ministry of the Foreign Affairs and to Ambassador Yuan Zhongxian’, 28 January 1953. 9 Yang Gongsu, Cangsang Jiushinian, pp. 215–16. 10 ‘The CCP’s Instruction about Work in Tibet’, 4 April 1952, see Xizanggongzuo Wenxian Xuanbian, 1949–2005 [Selected Documents about the Work in Tibet, 1949–2005], Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian Chubanshe, 2005, pp. 65–6. 11 PRC FMA, 105–00119–02 (1), ‘Summary of the conversation between Director Chen Jiakang and Counselor Kaul’, 26 March 1951. 12 ‘Cable from Prime Minister Nehru to Ambassador K.M. Panikkar’, 2 October 1951, Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd Series (SWJN2), vol. 16–2, New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1995, p. 643, notes 2 and 4. 13 ‘Speech delivered in Lok Sabha on 25 November 1959’, Prime Minister on Sino-Indian Relations, vol. 1, Parliament, New Delhi: External Publicity Division, Ministry of External Affairs, Government of India, 1961, p. 184. 14 PRC FMA, 105–00534–01, ‘The historical background of the Treaties which related to Tibet’, June 1951. 15 Mao Zedong, Jianguo Yilai Mao Zedong Wengao [Mao Zedong’s Manuscripts since the Founding of the People’s Republic of China], vol. 7, Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian Chubanshe, 1992, pp. 265–6. 16 PRC FMA, 118–00262–01(1), ‘Bhutanese blockade of border and export ban on rice to Tibet’, 15 August 1951. 17 ‘The Indo-Tibet Frontier Issue, reply to a Debate in the Council of States’, 24 December 1953, SWJN2, vol. 24, p. 583. 18 PRC FMA, 105–00116–01(1), ‘Indian Political Officer in Sikkim announced new export control regulations for Tibet’, 31 December 1952; PRC FMA, 105–00116–01(1), ‘Please report the impacts which Indian Embargo against Tibet might have on us’, 10 January 1953. 19 For the details, see: PRC FMA, 105–00116–09, ‘Indian changes in methods of cloths exports to Tibet’, 4 March 1953; PRC FMA, 105–00116–10,

82  Dai Chaowu ‘Tibetan muleteers are needed the visa of India’, 4 April 1953; PRC FMA, 105–00116–11(1), ‘Tibet-India trade’, 4 April 1953; PRC FMA, 118–00448–01, ‘Management circumstance of Tibet-India trade’, 8 August 1953. 20 PRC FMA, 105–00116–05, ‘Indian embargo of exports to Tibet’, 28 January 1953; PRC FMA, 105–00116–06(1), ‘Suggestions for Indian-Tibetan trade’, 4 February 1953. 21 PRC FMA, 105–00116–07, ‘Settlement opinions on Indian implementation of exports control against Tibet’, 14 February 1953; PRC FMA, 105–00116–08, ‘The CCP Instruction on the countermeasures against Indian Embargo on the trade with Tibet’, 7 March 1953. 22 For the details about China-India negotiation and implementation of ­Chinese rice transportation to Tibet via India, see: PRC FMA, 105–00154– 01, 105–00154–02, 105–00154–03, 105–00154–04,105–00154–05, 105–00535–01. 23 ‘Note from Prime Minister Nehru to the Secretary-General and Secretary’, 5 March 1953, SWJN2, vol. 21, p. 557; ‘Cable to K.M. Panikkar’, 24 May 1952, SWJN2, vol. 18, p. 473. 24 PRC FMA, 204–007–05(1), ‘Record of the second conversation between Premier Zhou and Prime Minister Nehru’, 20 October 1954. 25 For example, see various documents in: Notes, Memoranda, and Letters Exchanged and Agreements Signed between the Governments of India and China, 1954–1959, New Delhi: Ministry of External Affairs, Government of India, pp. 46, 48–51, 55–7. 26 ‘The Shipki La Pass incident’, 21 September 1956, SWJN2, vol. 35, pp. 515–16. 27 For the details of the talks over Wu Je dispute, see: Yang Gongsu, Cangsang Jiushinian, pp. 245–6. See also chapter by Amit Das Gupta. 28 See records of talks between Zhou Enlai and the Dalai Lama on 29 November 1956, 30 December 1956, and 1 January 1957 PRC FMA, 105–00329–01, 105–00329–02, and 105–00329–03. 29 As one of the conditions for his return to Lhasa, Beijing pledged the Dalai Lama that reforms would not be implemented in Tibet region within six years; previous reforms had drawn violent opposition in the Kham areas. See: ‘CCP Central Committee telegram to Tibet Working Committee’, 16 December 1956, Mao Zedong Nianpu, 1949–1976 [Chronological Records of Mao Zedong, 1949–1976], vol. 3, Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian C ­ hubanshe, 2013, pp. 51–2. 30 Mao Zedong Nianpu, vol. 3, p. 53. 31 ‘Talks with Chou En-lai’, 31 December 1956 and 1 January 1957, SWJN2, vol. 36, pp. 598–600. 32 See chapters by Lorenz Lüthi and Amit Das Gupta. 33 Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region Archives, Nanning, fond X50, list 2, vol. 290, ‘Report of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs about the works of the Boundary Committee’, 16 July 1958. 34 Jilin Provincial Archives, Changchun, fond 77, list 4, vol. 1, ‘Telegram from the Ministry of the Foreign Affairs to the relevant Provinces and Autonomous Regions’, 25 April 1958. 35 Archives of the Guangxi Zhuang Autonomous Region, fond X50, list 2, vol. 258, ‘Instructions from the CCP CC on the intensification of the works about the Boundary Questions’, 13 December 1958.

China’s India policy and the frontier dispute, 1950–62 83 36 Dai Chaowu, ‘Indian Embargo against Tibet and China’s responses, 1950–1962’, part I, Zhonggong Dangshi Yanjiu [Journal of Chinese Communist Party History Studies], 180, (June 2013), pp. 24–37; Dai Chaowu, ‘Indian Embargo against Tibet and China’s responses, 1950–1962’, part II, Zhonggong Dangshi Yanjiu, 181, (July 2013), pp. 57–70. 37 ‘Conversation between Liu Shaoqi and Soviet charge d’Affairs S.F. Antonov’, 6 September 1959, quoted in: PRC FMA, 105–01272–01, ‘The Soviet Union’s Treatment to the Sino-Indian Border Question and the Soviet-Indian Relations’, April 1963. 38 Mao Zedong Nianpu, vol. 4, p. 38; Wu Lengxi, Yi Mao Zhuxi [Remembering Chairman Mao], Beijing: Xinhua Chubanshe, 1995, pp. 121–5. 39 ‘Conversation between Mao Zedong and Nikita Khrushchev’, 2 October 1959; ‘Conversation between Zhou Enlai and Soviet Ambassador Stepan Chervonenko’, 12 December 1959, quoted in: PRC FMA, 105–01272–01, ‘The Soviet Union’s treatment to the Sino-Indian Border Question and the Soviet-Indian relations’, April 1963. 40 PRC FMA, 105–00944–07, ‘Bulletin of the Military Intelligence’, 29 September 1959. 41 Zhou Enlai Nianpu [Chronological Records of Zhou Enlai], vol. 2, Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian Chubanshe, 1997, p. 302. 42 PRC FMA, 203–00036–02, ‘The record of first conversation between Premier Zhou Enlai and Burmese Prime Minister U Nu’, 17 April 1960. Zhou also told Burmese President Win Maung in January 1961, when he visited Burma, that the Sino-Burmese border agreement will play a leading role model for the settlement of other disputed territories, see: PRC FMA, 203–00047–06(1), ‘The record of conversation between Premier Zhou Enlai and Burmese President Win Maung’, 2 January 1961. 43 Nehru Memorial Museum and Library (NMML), P.N. Haksar Papers (I and II instalments), Subject Files 24, ‘First talk’, no date, and ‘Record of talks between PM and Premier Chou held on 20 April 1960, from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. at Prime Minister’s Residence’, no date. 44 Liu Wusheng and Du Hongqi (eds.), Zhou Enlai junshi huodong jishi, 1918–1976 [Chronological Records of Zhou Enlai’s Military Activities], vol. 2, Beijing: Zhongyang Wenxian Chubanshe, 2000, p. 525. 45 P.B. Sinha and A.A. Athale, History of the Conflict with China, New Delhi: History Division, Ministry of Defence, Government of India, 1992, p. xx. 46 See: ‘Note from China MFA to the Embassy of India in China’, 2 November 1961. State Council Gazette, 17(247), (18 December 1961), pp. 319–20. ‘Note from China MFA to the Embassy of India in China’, 30 November 1961, State Council Gazette, 17(247), (18 December 1961), pp. 321–2. ‘Note from China MFA to the Embassy of India in China’, 1 March 1962, State Council Gazette, 4(253), (15 April 1962), pp. 68–9. 47 Zhou Enlai Junshi Huodong Jishi, p. 564. 48 Zhongyin Bianjie Ziwei Fanji Zuozhanshi, pp. 143, 465–6. 49 Mao Zedong Nianpu, vol. 5, 2013, p. 117; Zhou Enlai Junshi Huodong Jishi, p. 564. 50 Mao Zedong Nianpu, vol. 5, p. 162. 51 Yang Chengwu Nianpu [Chronological Records of Yang Chengwu], Beijing: Jiefangjun Chubanshe, 2014, pp. 368–9. 52 ‘The reply from CCP Central Committee to CPSU Central Committee’, 13 September 1959, in PRC FMA, 105–01272–01, ‘The Soviet Union’s

84  Dai Chaowu treatment to the Sino-Indian Border Question and the Soviet-Indian relations’, April 1963. 53 Sergey Radchenko, Two Suns in the Heaven: The Sino-Soviet Struggle for Supremacy, 1962–1967, Stanford and Washington, DC: Stanford University Press and Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2009, chapter 1; Lorenz Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split: Cold War in the Communist World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, chapters 4 and 7; Dai Chaowu, ‘The Sino-Indian border conflict of 1962: The Soviets’ response and its policy’, Lishi Yanjiu [Historical Research], 283, (June 2003), pp. 58–79. 54 PRC FMA, 109–03801–01, ‘Brief minutes of conversation between Yu Zhan (Deputy Director-General, Department of the Soviet Union and Europe) and Soviet Chargé d’Affairs, concerning the Sino-Indian border issue’, 12 December 1962. 55 Dong Wang, ‘The Quarrelling Brothers: New Chinese archives and a reappraisal of the Sino-Soviet split, 1959–1962’, Cold War International History Project Working Paper, 49, (2005), pp. 63–4. 56 M.Y. Prozumenschikov, ‘The Sino-Indian conflict, the Cuban missile crisis, and the Sino-Soviet split’, October 1962, in ‘New evidence from the Russian Archives’, Cold War International History Project Bulletin, 8–9, p. 251. ˇ avoški. 57 See chapter by Jovan C 58 PRC FMA, 204–01493–10, ‘Conversation between Premier Zhou Enlai and Mrs. Bandaranaike’, 31 December 1962; PRC FMA, 204–01493–05, ‘Conversation between Premier Zhou Enlai and Mrs. Bandaranaike’, 3 January 1963; PRC FMA, 204–01493–07, ‘Conversation between Premier Zhou Enlai and Mrs. Bandaranaike’, 8 January 1963. 59 Zhou Enlai Nianpu, vol. 2, pp. 522–96. ˇ avoški. 60 See chapter by Jovan C 61 Instruction from PLA General Chief of Staff, 6 October 1962, Zhongyin Bianjie Ziwei Fanji Zuozhan Shi, p. 179. 62 Instruction from the PLA General Staff to Front Operational Headquarter of Tibetan Military Region, 20 October 1962, see Huang Yao, Zhang Mingzhe et al. (eds.), Luo Ruiqing Zhuan [A Biography of Luo Ruiqing] Beijing: Dangdai Zhongguo Chubanshe, 1996, p. 379. 63 ‘Circular of the CCP Central Committee about the Question of the Sino-Indian Border Conflict and the Sino-Indian Relations’, 14 November 1962, Zhongyin Bianjie Ziwei Fanji Zuozhanshi, pp. 267–8. 64 Jianguo Yilai Mao Zedong Wengao, vol. 7, pp. 188–9; Mao Zedong, Jianguo Yilai Mao Zedong Junshi Wengao [Mao Zedong’s Manuscripts on the Military Affairs since the Founding of the PRC], Beijing: Junshi Kexue Chubanshe, Zhongyang Wenxian Chubanshe, 2010, vol. 3, pp. 162–3.

4 The strategic and regional contexts of the Sino-Indian border conflict China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours Eric Hyer Focusing on the strategic and international context in which China’s relations with India unfolded in the wake of the tumultuous Great Leap Forward (GLF; 1958–60) helps our understanding both of the country’s failure to resolve the bilateral boundary dispute and of the ensuing war in 1962. The comparative analysis of the relations of the People’s Republic of China (PRC) with the other South Asian neighbours at the time of the war in 1962 further deepens our understanding of China’s efforts to resolve its boundary dispute with India. Actually, in the years before the war with India, Beijing had adopted a new foreign policy strategy that was motivated by the parallel decline of China’s relations with India and the Soviet Union, and the escalating US involvement in Southeast Asia.1 As Beijing began to seek a resolution of its multiple boundary problems ‘left over by history’, it focused on ‘diplomacy and the nation’s security’.2 It undertook efforts to improve its relations with its neighbours in an attempt to balance against the perceived threats emanating from the Soviet Union, the United States and India.3 Indeed, China’s successful boundary settlements with Burma, Nepal and Pakistan at around the 1962 war facilitated closer, or at least less hostile, relations with these neighbours.4 Previous authors have speculated that the accommodation of Burmese, Nepalese and Pakistani territorial demands was motivated by China’s efforts to pressure India into accepting a compromise settlement or into embarrassing India for its refusal to negotiate.5 The pragmatic Chinese policy of the ‘Three Conciliations and one Reduction’ (sanhe yishao), however, was supposed to ameliorate tension between the PRC and the ‘modern revisionists’ (the Soviet Union), ‘imperialists’ (the United States) and ‘reactionaries’ (mainly India, but also Pakistan and Burma), and to reduce its support for leftist national liberation movements throughout the world in order to improve relations with its neighbours.6 Despite the radical inclinations of many of China’s top

86  Eric Hyer leaders at the time, Beijing pursued a policy of conciliation because the strategic imperatives of China’s international environment threatened to undermine its domestic and ideological long-term objectives.7

New Chinese approaches to foreign policy, 1960–62 In the wake of the economic collapse and the famines which the GLF caused by the spring of 1960, the PRC was ‘confronting a storm’ in international relations, particularly because of its poor relations with both superpowers.8 Thus, the Chinese supreme leader, Mao Zedong, warned that the PRC should not allow relations with India to deteriorate to the point that it ‘becomes caught in the middle of a desperate situation with enemies on all sides’.9 As early as 1959, Beijing had expressed to Delhi its alarm over the increasingly hostile international environment, which was the reason why it sought conciliation with its southern neighbour: ‘China will not be so foolish as to antagonize the United States in the east and again antagonize India in the west. . . . We cannot have two centres of attention, nor can we take friend for foe.’10 Reiterating the same point in April 1960, Foreign Minister Chen Yi told Railway Minister Sardar Swaran Singh, a confidant of Prime Minister Nehru: ‘It is clear to us that our most important enemy is the United States which may attack us at any time. . . . It would be stupid if we created a tense situation with India in the west, too. . . . We are in a serious situation and need your friendship.’11 It was in this context that China’s conciliatory foreign policy ‘emerged as part of an overall policy derived from a sense of weakness and vulnerability’, as the political scientist Allan Whiting has argued early on.12 The policies adopted by the PRC in the years before mid-1962 were in accordance with the strategic principles laid out by Wang Jiaxiang, one of China’s leading diplomats.13 Heading the CCP International Liaison Department, Wang pioneered the policy of sanhe yishao in 1961 under the oversight, guidance and support of top party leaders, although some of its ideas had already been tested in relations with India and Burma, in particular, since 1959.14 With Mao’s agreement, Prime Minister Zhou Enlai had called for a review of China’s foreign policy strategy given the domestic and international circumstances.15 In several memoranda to central party leaders, Wang outlined his views on the international situation and the need to formulate a flexible strategy, recommending specific policies to deal with the Soviet Union, the United States, India and towards national liberation movements around the world.16 He characterized China’s radical foreign policy in preceding years as a case of adventurism that had caused international tensions and alienated the Soviet bloc, leaving Beijing without an ally to assist in its economic development. Wang advocated sanhe yishao as an alternative foreign

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 87 policy that would allow the PRC to ease tensions with both superpowers as well as with India, and to reduce foreign aid to revolutionary causes abroad in accordance with China’s economic capabilities.17 He recommended that the PRC should adopt a strategic foreign policy that distinguished between waging revolution and governing the country. If China only championed revolution, it would weaken and obscure the peaceful character of China’s foreign policy and hamper its own economic development.18 China’s new approach to its deteriorating strategic environment motivated its attempts to resolve boundary disputes with its neighbours in South Asia: India, Burma, Nepal and Pakistan. At a state banquet honouring Cambodia’s Prince Norodom Sihanouk in February 1963, Liu Shaoqi stated that ‘it has always been the sincere desire of the Chinese Government to . . . settle complicated questions left over by history through negotiations with its Asian neighbours and strive for a peaceful international environment favourable to socialist construction’.19 The compromise boundary settlements with India’s neighbours, as covered towards the end of this chapter, testify to Beijing’s attempt to reassure and placate its neighbours after they had grown apprehensive about Chinese political radicalism in previous years. The PRC pondered a policy of accommodation towards India, in particular, already as early as 1959. In April of that year, Zhou, in his official ‘Report on the Work of the Government’, had reconfirmed China’s respect for India’s non-alignment policy while expressing the desire for peaceful negotiations to settle the boundary dispute.20 During the Sino-Indian summit in Delhi the following April, Zhou linked China’s deteriorating domestic and international situation to his country’s effort to settle the boundary dispute. He said that although ‘we do not stress [this] in public . . . I want to tell you all the facts. Only in the past two years [during the GLF] things have become very complicated and we know that non-settlement of this problem will harm us both. This is why we have come to Delhi to try and reach some sort of settlement’.21 The available primary and secondary Chinese-language evidence suggests that the PRC adopted a conciliatory policy towards India in the fall of 1959, after a time of growing tensions along the border.22 As late as July 1962, in a note to its own embassy in Delhi, Beijing pointed out that the ‘Chinese Government has repeatedly stated that China is not willing to fight with India and the Sino-Indian boundary question can be settled only through routine negotiations’.23 China’s attempts to come to an agreement with India in the early 1960s were also related to its concerns over the deteriorating situation in Laos, particularly in the context of the increasing American involvement in all of Indochina under President John F. Kennedy.24 Beijing was concerned that the United States would pull neutral Laos into the South East Asia

88  Eric Hyer Treaty Organization (SEATO), which it had established in 1954 to contain the perceived expansion of North Vietnamese and Chinese Communism.25 The alignment of Laos with the United States, Beijing feared, could have a tremendous impact in South Asia as it would put growing pressure on Burma to relinquish its neutralist policy as well. Thus, China engaged Burma actively in constructive boundary negotiations (as covered below) to prevent that country’s drift towards the United States.26 This larger strategic view of its South East Asian and South Asian border areas explains China’s policy of supporting continued Laotian neutralization during the Geneva Conference in 1961–62. This included both the establishment of diplomatic relations with the non-communist government in April 1961 and pressure on the insurgent, communist Pathet Lao to conclude a ceasefire and enter into a government of national unity.27 In the end, the Geneva agreement of July 1962 that re-established Laos as a neutral country exemplified the influence of sanhe yishao on Beijing’s foreign policy and helped ‘the PRC to come in from the cold’.28 For a long time, Mao supported the idea that ‘new initiatives should be adopted vigorously in order to create a new situation in diplomacy’.29 As late as during the ‘7,000 Cadre Conference’ in January 1962, he supported moderation in China’s foreign policy.30 However, in the wake of the unrelated radicalization of his domestic policies in the summer of 1962, he started both to advocate class struggle in international relations and to criticize Wang’s sanhe yishao sharply.31 The causes for this change of views were rooted in his fears that the success of the pragmatic economic recovery policies, which his fellow leaders Liu Shaoqi and Deng Xiaoping had implemented to alleviate the economic problems that Mao’s own brainchild – the GLF – had caused, threatened his political standing within the party and the country. The radicalization of internal policies thus was primarily related to an escalating domestic power struggle which, however, had indirect and sometimes even direct consequences on foreign policy.32 It is likely that Mao’s colleagues would not have agreed in the fall of 1962 to ‘teach Mr. Nehru a lesson’ given their previous support for sanhe yishao, had Mao not steered left in the previous summer and thereby forced their hands in foreign policy.33 Yet, Mao’s left turn also needed some time to achieve its full impact, which explains why some successful territorial settlements with China’s neighbours still occurred even after the Sino-Indian border war in late 1962.34

Sino-Indian relations and the boundary dispute A longer periodical focus on how China specifically tried to come to terms with the unsettled borders with India helps to explain that the problems

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 89 there were more complicated than in the cases of the other South Asian countries. China’s approach to the border with India was based on the perceived imperialist nature of the McMahon Line, the need to survey a border which it essentially considered non-delineated and simultaneously its willingness to reduce tensions and come to a compromise agreement. For the first five years of the relationship between the newly established PRC and India, Beijing was unhappy about how Delhi dealt with various kinds of issues related to common borders.35 Yet, during the negotiations on the Tibet Agreement in the first four months in 1954, neither side was willing to raise the issue of the unsettled border.36 Zhou was convinced that ‘big countries like India and China with long frontiers were bound to have many questions at issue’. However, in 1954 he also believed that conditions were not yet ‘ripe for settlement’ because the Chinese side had not yet had sufficient time to ‘study the question’, and thus was unwilling to discuss the issue without any prior survey.37 Ironically, while the Indian public in the early 1960s was unhappy with what it perceived as Nehru’s surrender to Chinese demands with regard to Tibet in the 1954 agreement, the Chinese leaders were angered by what they perceived was India’s continued meddling in Tibetan affairs. For example, Beijing believed that Delhi was behind the Dalai Lama’s initial refusal to return to Tibet during his visit to India in late 1956 on the occasion of the 2,500th birthday of the Buddha.38 In the shadow of these rising tensions, boundary incidents occurred even before the Tibetan Rebellion in the spring of 1959.39 Officially, Beijing argued that since the boundary was unsettled, such incidents were predictable; thus, both sides should make every effort to avoid actions that increased their likelihood.40 In confidential communications in the second half of the decade, however, the PRC was willing to accept the so-called McMahon Line as a basis for negotiations in the eastern sector. Indian primary documents of Zhou’s visit to India at the turn of 1956–57 suggest that he stressed that no Chinese government ever had recognized the McMahon Line but that he also maintained that since ‘it is an accomplished fact, we should accept it’ and promised to ‘try to persuade and convince Tibetans to accept it’. Zhou added, however, that ‘although the question is still undecided and it is unfair to us, still we feel that there is no better way than to recognize this line’.41 Two years later, in January 1959 on the eve of the Tibetan Rebellion, Zhou reiterated the view that China ‘finds it necessary to take a more or less realistic attitude toward the McMahon line’, indicating Beijing’s willingness to use that line as a basis for settling the borderline with some minor technical adjustments.42 At no point did these conversations address the border issues at the western sector. Several boundary incidents in 1959 had forced New Delhi and Beijing to engage subsequently in direct talks. The head of the Chinese delegation,

90  Eric Hyer Yang Gongsu, did not fail to note that India’s boundary claims were primarily based on the documentation of British officials from the colonial era. As a self-declared anti-imperialist country, the PRC rejected these claims as morally questionable; subsequently, Beijing was unwilling to commit to any specific boundary line without a survey of the whole border.43 Despite the revolutionary rhetoric generated by the concurrent GLF and despite the Tibetan Uprising that had erupted in March 1959, Mao two months later discounted the disagreements with India as ‘one episode in the thousands of years of friendship between our two countries. It doesn’t warrant the people and government officials becoming alarmed’.44 After the occurrence of border skirmishes at the Tibetan–Indian border in August, Zhou returned to the topic of the British imperialist nature of the McMahon Line ‘which constitutes the fundamental reason for the long-term disputes over and non-settlement of the Sino-Indian boundary question’. He called on Nehru to reach ‘an overall settlement of the boundary question . . . taking into account the historical background and existing actualities’.45 In an otherwise stormy meeting with Khrushchev in Beijing on 2 October 1959, Zhou confirmed China’s willingness to seek a negotiated settlement, and Mao even assured the worried Soviet leader ‘that the McMahon line with India will be maintained’. Two weeks later, in a conversation with Soviet Ambassador S.F. Antonov, Mao again stated, ‘we never, under any circumstances, will move beyond the Himalayas. This is completely ruled out. This is an argument over inconsequential pieces of territory’.46 Despite another border skirmish in October and against objections from military leaders, Mao in early November 1959 decided to reduce tensions along the border with India by proposing a mutual troop withdrawal 20 kilometres from the customary boundary line; he even advocated a unilateral Chinese withdrawal even if India did not agree to the proposal.47 The offer went out in a letter by Zhou to Nehru dated 7 November 1959, expressing the Chinese hope that the mutual withdrawal would ‘create a favourable atmosphere for a friendly settlement of the boundary question’.48 On 5 February 1960, Nehru eventually agreed to the idea of a meeting with Zhou for a ‘general discussion of bilateral relations’ – but not to the Chinese proposal to withdraw forces from the respective actual line of control – while insisting that the McMahon Line was the delineated border between the two countries.49 By then, the Standing Committee of the Chinese Politburo had adopted guidelines for negotiated border settlements with all of China’s neighbours which should be based on ‘mutual understanding and mutual accommodation’.50 Zhou had defined four pragmatic principles that were supposed to guide boundary negotiations in general, but which also reflected the

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 91 supposed anti-imperialist nature of New China: first, boundary disputes should be considered the result of imperialism; second, China should give up older historical claims, including tributary territory (i.e. claims from the Chinese imperial period); third, boundary agreements should be negotiated on the basis of existing boundary agreements, even if they had been forced on China during the imperialist era; and finally, China should adopt a ‘national stand’ but avoid ‘big nation chauvinism’.51 Beijing was willing to delimit its borders based on ‘customary boundaries’ but insisted on adopting modern techniques to determine the boundaries more precisely in order to establish ‘distinct and stable’ boundary lines.52 By the time Zhou put these four principles in place, China had already started negotiations with Burma, hoping to pursue a similar approach in negotiations with India. Before departing for Delhi in early April, Zhou defined two objectives for the talks with Nehru: to strive for establishing principles while reaching agreement on particular aspects in order to pacify the current situation, and to create the conditions for the continuation of negotiations with the goal of finding an equitable settlement of the boundary dispute. For China, however, the primary point was that – apart from Aksai Chin being undoubtedly Chinese territory – the entire boundary was unsettled – only defined by a ‘traditional and customary boundary’ – and that it was to be delimited through negotiations and not through the wholesome Chinese acceptance of the imperialist McMahon Line in the eastern sector. Zhou was confident that ‘principle favoured China’ (daoli zai women de fangmian), although he did not anticipate resolving the boundary during the talks in Delhi. Since Zhou’s primary objective was to reach agreement on the principles governing border negotiations during his visit to Delhi and not to discuss minute details of the borderline, he decided not to bring documents or maps to India.53 In the event the talks failed, the Chinese side had prepared three policy alternatives. All included some form of continued negotiations while avoiding military engagements at the border areas. None envisioned the use of military force to create facts on the ground at the disputed border.54 While Zhou publicly reiterated his government’s desire ‘to resolve reasonably the boundary problem and other problems’ at his arrival in Delhi, he was irritated by the low-key welcome at the airport which he believed was Nehru’s way to ‘show the cold shoulder’.55 The Indian transcripts of the seven days of negotiations between Zhou and Nehru and between the two country’s delegations testify to the strategy the Chinese side had established beforehand. While Nehru asserted India’s historical claims on the basis of British-era documentation and insisted that China simply needed to change its maps, Zhou tried to work for the outline of a pragmatic

92  Eric Hyer compromise settlement by taking into account the ‘traditional customary boundary’ and by requesting a formal delimitation of the actual boundary line through a survey.56 In the course of the talks, Zhou also proposed what would become known as a ‘package deal’.57 China was willing to recognize India’s claim to the North East Frontier Administration (NEFA) in the eastern sector, comprising 84,000 square kilometres, in spite of China’s view that this area historically was connected with Tibet, in exchange for India accepting China’s claim to Aksai Chin in the western sector, encompassing 38,000 square kilometres. Zhou believed this was a practical solution to a historically complex and politically intractable dispute, but Nehru did not want to consider it. Zhou then pushed for a mutual troop withdrawal from the line of actual control to avoid further incidents.58 He argued that ‘disengagement of the armed forces . . . would not prejudice the stand of either side on the boundary question’ but would avoid future clashes.59 In general, Zhou had misjudged India’s views of the boundary because he assumed that, given the shared anti-imperialist nature of their countries, both sides would adopt ‘an attitude of mutual sympathy, mutual understanding and fairness and reasonableness in dealing with the boundary question’.60 One Chinese foreign ministry official later reminisced in frustration that ‘we repeatedly asked India to observe the spirit of mutual understanding and mutual accommodation that is the basis of the Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence [from 1954] in order to resolve the boundary issues, but they wouldn’t listen’.61 Zhou’s failed attempt to set the stage for further negotiations left China convinced that India was unwilling to put aside the complicated historical legacy and to see beyond the recent border skirmishes in order to delimit a legitimate boundary. During their final meeting, Zhou and Nehru even had difficulties in agreeing on the text of the joint communiqué. The Chinese pushed hard for a more positive tone but the Indians resisted making any statements that would have indicated any progress towards a resolution of the border issue.62 Despite the disappointing outcome, Zhou told the People’s Congress later that spring that ‘we isolated him [Nehru] and proved that while we are willing to resolve the boundary issue, he is unwilling to solve the boundary problem; we have gained the initiative’.63 Several rounds of lower-level meetings followed in the period from June to December 1960. The 47 meetings in total accomplished little more than a joint report about the conflicting views of both sides. China participated in these talks in order to show that it was keeping the door open for ­negotiations.64 After the completion of the report, the former Indian ambassador in China R.K. Nehru visited Beijing in his new function as secretary general of the Ministry of External Affairs to meet with Prime

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 93 Minister Zhou. It was clear that the report had provided no avenue for a compromise, ‘given the impossibility of reaching a consensus on the facts’ and the ‘sharp differences of opinion’. At least, the two agreed to consider alternative paths to a settlement through ‘unofficial talks’.65 India’s Ambassador Gopalaswami Parthasarathy and Zhang Wenjin, the director of the Asian Affairs Department of the Ministry of Foreign Affairs, conducted three sessions of unofficial talks in Beijing on 17–19 July 1961. The Chinese sought to place the boundary dispute in a larger strategic context arguing that ‘one cannot get tangled up in the details. The relationship between our two countries is too important; we should view it from a greater distance, from an elevated height, considering the big picture, and seek resolution’. The Indians seemed to embrace this perspective, responding that our ‘two sides have sharp differences of opinion; one method is to place the reports to one side and ignore them, while both sides proceed from a political angle to reconsider [the issues]. . . . But the difficulty lies in swaying popular opinion’.66 As these talks did not lead to a breakthrough either, tensions at the border built up again. By the summer of 1962, both sides had reinforced their military positions at the unsettled border to such a degree that skirmishes became more frequent.67 The time-line of the decision-making process in Beijing with regard to using military force had been established reasonably well.68 Yet, the mutual inability to agree to a solution at the negotiation table is insufficient to explain why China chose to go to war in October 1962, as the diplomatic deadlock had existed for several years. The little available Chinese evidence sketches two possible, mutually complementary explanations why China eventually decided to resort to military force. On the one hand, the internal radicalization, which occurred for unrelated domestic reasons in the summer of 1962, led to spill-over effects in foreign policy. As in 1958, when Mao had launched the radical phase of the GLF by manufacturing an international crisis in the Taiwan Strait, he connected in July 1962 again the need for revolutionary fervour in domestic affairs with the supposed lack of it in foreign policy.69 This allowed him, by late September, to brand sanhe yishao – including the policy of relaxation of relations with India – as ideologically erroneous.70 Soon thereafter, Wang Jiaxiang was sidelined and while in declining health suffered severe public criticism until his death in 1974.71 On the other hand, the Chinese leaders seemed to have become worried about the recent Indian military assertiveness in the Himalayas. Starting in mid-July, they convinced themselves that Indian activities looked like preparations for a military operation.72 Consequently, on 20 October, the PRC started the war of ‘self-defence and counterattack’ as a quasi-pre-emptive attack with the double goal of clearing out Indian military installations

94  Eric Hyer in all of NEFA while using the opportunity to occupy Aksai Chin completely – thereby implementing Zhou’s package deal from 1960 on the ground.73 The well-prepared and swift Chinese incursion deep into disputed territories and eventually beyond belied the supposedly defensive and reactive character of the military response against a supposed Indian attack at 7 a.m. on October 20, which Chinese public statements claimed had happened at the very beginning of the war.74 Despite the fact that ­Chinese propaganda milked the claim of India’s supposed military aggression in its concurrent revolutionary propaganda while simultaneously attacking Soviet ideological errors in the parallel Cuban Missile Crisis,75 China’s leaders to all accounts genuinely believed that India had tried to seek some form of military solution to the border dispute since the summer of 1962. The Indonesian Foreign Minister Subandrio returned from Beijing to Jakarta in early 1963 with the impression that the Chinese were ‘sincerely’ convinced that the ‘Indians began aggression [,] and that they [the Chinese still] must be ready for eventual further Indian thrusts’.76 On 22 November 1962, one month into the war, Beijing announced the start of withdrawal of its troops by 1 December to areas 20 kilometres behind the ‘illegal McMahon Line’ in the eastern sector while calling for the return to the negotiation table.77 Yet, even the Chinese leaders understood that Indian public opinion was strongly against any negotiations because they could only have led to what it must have considered territorial concessions under pressure, or even the legal recognition of Chinese control of Aksai Chin.78 It took more than half a century, until May 2015, before the two sides seemed to return to the spirit of the informal Zhang–Parthasarathy talks, agreeing that ‘bearing in mind the overall bilateral relations and the long-term interests of the two peoples, the two sides are determined to actively seek a political settlement of the boundary question’.79

The boundary settlements with other neighbouring states Before and after China went to war with India over the disputed border, Beijing was able to conclude border agreements with three other South Asian nations. At this point, we must keep in mind, however, that the disputed areas in each of these cases were much smaller. While Beijing failed to resolve its boundary dispute with Delhi, the treaties with Burma and Nepal in 1960 and the agreement with Pakistan three years later show that China did seek conciliation with those neighbours. On 28 January 1960, the PRC concluded a boundary settlement with Burma on terms generally corresponding to Rangoon’s claims. It generally

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 95 followed the McMahon Line, indicating China’s willingness to compromise while not accepting the legitimacy of the McMahon Line. Beijing thereby ceded territory which was, in strategic or logistical terms, more valuable to its neighbour. The Namwan Assigned Tract had always been Chinese territory but provided territory for a vital link between the Shan and Kachin states of Burma. Following the same logic, the PRC implicitly expected that India should agree to a reasonable compromise on Aksai Chin because the Xinjiang‑Tibet road which traverses that territory was strategically vital to China. The PRC in return was willing to cede all of NEFA and to transfer Tibetan territory (i.e. the ‘Chicken’s Neck’) that was strategically important to India.80 On a larger plane, China’s boundary settlement with Burma cost little in terms of national security, but had a high return in terms of public relations, helping to polish the country’s international image as a champion of ‘peaceful coexistence’.81 In the case of Nepal, China acceded to all of the demands of the South Asian neighbour. Talks had begun in February 1960, two months before Zhou’s ill-fated journey to Delhi. In an 18 March meeting with Prime Minister Koirala, Mao personally agreed to divide Mount Everest; on 21 March, an agreement was signed that asserted the goal of respecting the ‘traditional customary boundary’ until the conclusion of a formal treaty.82 Zhou publically confirmed the Chinese concessions during his 26–29 April 1960 visit to Kathmandu when he signed a peace and friendship treaty.83 Pakistan, however, was the most complicated of the three cases. In late 1959, Pakistan broached the issue of boundary differences with China, but Beijing was reluctant to engage. Eventually China responded in February 1962, and on 3 May agreed on negotiations to start by 12 October 1962 – a date that eventually would be just eight days before China’s attack on India. The PRC and Pakistan reached with little difficulty a boundary agreement, which was announced on 27 December. As the news release occurred just hours before negotiations between Pakistan and India over Kashmir were scheduled to begin, Indian government officials in Delhi reacted with anger, believing that Beijing and Rawalpindi were conspiring to undermine the impending talks between the two hostile South Asian neighbours.84 Yet, for many years, Beijing had delayed responding to Pakistan’s initiatives so as not to risk derailing the possibility of a Sino-Indian Agreement.85 Only after a compromise settlement with India appeared less and less likely by the spring of 1962 did China engage with Pakistan.86 Already during the Zhang–Parthasarathy talks in mid-1961, China had mentioned to India that it needed to settle the borderline with Pakistan because ‘there are practical problems that must be handled’.87 When negotiations with Rawalpindi started, Beijing insisted that the agreement be provisional, pending

96  Eric Hyer the outcome of India-Pakistan negotiations over the Kashmir dispute, thus leaving the door open for an eventual agreement with Delhi on Sino-Indian borders. Liu Shaoqi told Pakistan’s ambassador to China, N.A.M. Raza, as early as in mid-1961, that ‘China and Pakistan will . . . sign a temporary agreement. This is for the sake of safeguarding a stable border and good neighbourly relations. . . . We are not intervening in Pakistan and India’s dispute over Kashmir; this has consistently been our position’.88 China’s ambassador in Rawalpindi also told Ayub Khan that his country did not want Pakistan to use the boundary settlement ‘merely as a lever to gain advantage over India’.89 The communiqué issued in March 1963, when the treaty was formally signed, expressed the hope that the Sino-Indian boundary dispute would be settled by mutual accommodation and good will.90 At the same time, China also settled boundary disputes with Afghanistan and Mongolia. Following the Sino-Mongolian compromise agreement in late December 1962, Zhou pointed out that China had now solved ‘complicated boundary questions with other countries’. Implicitly referring to India, he expressed the hope that this ‘reasonable settlement of the border question [with Mongolia] . . . will be an example and an encouragement for border negotiations with other countries’.91 The message to India was clear; China wanted a compromise settlement that would resolve an issue that had hampered Sino-Indian relations for a long time.

Conclusion To understand China’s policy towards its boundary disputes and the settlements fully, they must be placed within a larger context. China’s larger strategic concerns in the wake of the GLF, the unfolding Sino-Soviet dispute, the escalating involvement of the United States in South and Southeast Asia and deteriorating relations with India all deeply concerned Beijing. These larger strategic concerns motivated the PRC to take a new tack in its foreign policy. The policy of sanhe yishao revealed that China wanted to reduce tensions with its neighbours; boundary settlements were a major way to achieve this goal. Thus, the long-held view in the literature that compromise settlements with other countries were supposed just to serve China in its attempt to resolve the Sino-Indian boundary dispute obscures the larger strategic forces at play. China’s efforts to achieve a compromise settlement with India followed the pattern which the PRC had adopted to seek ‘mutual understanding and mutual accommodation’ with all of its neighbours. From China’s perspective, Zhou’s ‘package deal’ proposal in April 1960 was an ‘earnest effort to reach a preliminary agreement that would help settle the boundary question’. However, the PRC was frustrated by the failure of ‘the sincere efforts of the Chinese side’ and even

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 97 believed that, ‘if Nehru really wanted to settle the boundary question, it should have not been difficult to do so’.92 To Chinese eyes, Nehru’s unwillingness to negotiate increasingly looked like intransigence and even preparation for military aggression.

Notes 1 Niu Jun, ‘1962: the eve of the left turn in China’s foreign policy’, Woodrow Wilson International Center for Scholars, Cold War International History Project, Working Paper no. 48, 1. 2 ‘90% of Land Boundaries settled’, http://www.china.org.cn/archive/ 2005–05/05/content_1127780.htm, accessed 18 May 2015. 3 Xuecheng Liu, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute and Sino-Indian Relations, Lanham, MD: University Press of America, 1994, pp. 25–6; Eric Hyer, The Pragmatic Dragon: China’s Grand Strategy and Boundary Settlements, Vancouver: University of British Columbia Press, 2014, pp. 17–9. 4 Robert Jervis, Perception and Misperception in International Politics, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1976, pp. 28–31. 5 Wayne Wilcox, India, Pakistan and the Rise of China, New York: Walker and Co., 1964; Anwar H. Syed, China and Pakistan: Diplomacy of an Entente Cordiale, Amherst: University of Massachusetts Press, 1974; ­Ramakant, Nepal China and India (Nepal-China Relations), New Delhi: Abhinav Publications, 1976. 6 Lorenz M. Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split: Cold War in the Communist World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, pp. 212–3, 222, 224. 7 Kenneth N. Waltz, Theory of International Politics, New York: McGraw-Hill, 1979, p. 63. 8 In the words of one of the participants in the event, see: Yang Gongsu, Zhonghua Renmin Gongheguo waijiao lilun yu shijian [The Theory and Practice of PRC Foreign Policy], Beijing: Beijing Daxue Guoji Guanxi ­Xueyuan, 1997, p. 16. 9 Lei Yingfu, Zai zuigao tongshuaibu dang canmo: Lei Yingfu jiangjun huiyilu [A Staff Officer in the Supreme Command: The Memoir of General Lei Yingfu], Nanchang: Baihuazhou wenyi chubanshe, 1997, p. 204. 10 Li Lianqing, Da waijioajia Zhou Enlai [The Great diplomat Zhou Enlai], vol. 4, Hong Kong: Tiandi tushu youxiangongsi, 1999, pp. 273–4. 11 Nehru Memorial Museum and Library (NMML), P.N. Haksar Papers (I-II instalments), Subject Files, File 26, ‘Notes on Conversation held between Sardar Swaran Singh and Marshal Chen Yi on 23rd April, 1960, at Agra’. 12 Allen S. Whiting, ‘Chinese behavior toward India: 1962’, First Sino-American Conference on Mainland China, 22, (1971), p. 15. 13 Niu, ‘1962’, p. 29. 14 Zhang Tuosheng, ‘Nanneng tansuo, kegui de nuli: shilun Wang Jiaxiang dui dang de guoji zhanlue sixiang de gongxian’ [‘Difficult Study, Admirable Effort: Examining Wang Jiaxiang’s Contribution to the Party’s International Strategic Thinking’], in China Foundation for International Strategic Studies (ed.), Huanqiu tongci liangre, Beijing: Zhongyang ­wenxian chubanshe, 1993, pp. 182–3; Roderick MacFarquhar, The Origins of the

98  Eric Hyer Cultural Revolution: Vol. 3: The Coming of the Cataclysm, 1961–1966, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1997, pp. 270, 376. 15 Zhu Zhongli, ‘Firmly holding Premier Zhou’s concern for Comrade Wang Jiaxiang’, Gongren ribao, (5 April 1976), in FBIS (ed.), Daily Report: People’s Republic of China, (4 May 1979), p. L14; Forty Years of Communist Rule, Beijing: CCP Party History Documents Press, 1962, p. 213. 16 Zhang, ‘Nanneng tansuo’, pp. 176–8. 17 Zhang Xiangshan, ‘Yici fang zuo jiuzuo de changshi – du Wang Jiaxiang de jipian youguan guoji wenti de wenxian’ [‘An attempt to oppose and correct leftism: reading several of Wang Jiaxiang’s manuscripts on international problems’], Dangde wenxian, 5 (15 September 1988), pp. 43–6. 18 Zhang, ‘Nanneng tansuo’, pp. 171–2. 19 ‘Speech at a State Banquet Honouring Prince Sihanouk’, 12 Febru ary 1963, Collected Works of Liu Shao-ch’i, 1958‑1967, Hong Kong: Union Research Institute, 1968, p. 153. 20 Zhou Enlai, ‘ “Report on the Work of the Government”, 1st session, 2nd National People’s Congress (15 April 1959)’, Renmin Ribao (19 April 1959), p. 4. 21 NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers (I-II Instalments), Subject Files, File 26, no date. 22 Niu, ‘1962’, p. 26; Allen S. Whiting, The Chinese Calculus of Deterrence: India and Indochina, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1975, pp. 38–9, 48, 75–7. 23 India, Ministry of External Affairs, Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged Between the Governments of India and China, July 1962-October 1962, White Paper, vol. 7, New Delhi: GOI Press, 1962, p. 1. 24 Niu, ‘1962’, pp. 12–14, 25. 25 Qiang Zhai, China and the Vietnam Wars, 1950–1975, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2000, pp. 93–4. 26 Chester Cheng, ed., The Politics of the Chinese Red Army, Palo Alto: Stanford University Press, 1966, p. 585. 27 Qiang Zhai, China and the Vietnam Wars, pp. 98–105. 28 MacFarquhar, Origins, p. 273. 29 Quoted in Niu, ‘1962’, p. 9. 30 Lorenz Lüthi, ‘Chinese foreign policy, 1960–1979’, in Tsuyoshi Hasegawa (ed.), The Cold War in East Asia, 1945–1991, Washington, DC: Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2011, p. 157. 31 MacFarquhar, Origins, p. 271. 32 Lüthi, Sino-Soviet Split, pp. 220–4. 33 MacFarquhar, Origins, p. 312. 34 Dong Wang, ‘From enmity of rapprochement’, Ph.D. Thesis, University of California, Los Angeles, 2007, p. 214. 35 See chapter by Dai Chaowu. 36 See chapter by Amit Das Gupta. 37 Han Nianlong (ed.), Diplomacy of Contemporary China, Hong Kong: New Horizon Press, 1990, p. 218. 38 Zhang Tong, ‘DuiYin ziwei fanjizhan qianho de huiyi’ [‘Recollections of the pre and post counter attack in self-defence against India’], in Pei Jianzhang (ed.), Xin Zhongguo waijiao fengyun: Zhongguo waijiaoguan huiyilu [New China’s Diplomatic Challenges: Recollections of Chinese Diplomats],

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 99 vol. 1, Beijing: Shijie zhishi chubanshe, 1990, pp. 67–9. Zhang Tong was the military attaché in the Chinese embassy in New Delhi prior to 1962 and then deputy director of the Asia Bureau at the Ministry of Foreign Affairs. 39 Li, Da waijioajia Zhou Enlai, p. 274. 40 Hyer, Pragmatic Dragon, pp. 42–4. 41 ‘Talks with Chou En-lai I’, 31 December 1956 and 1 January 1957, Jawaharlal Nehru, Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd series (SWJN2), vol. 36, Delhi: Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, 2005, pp. 598–9, 600–1. No Chinese documents on these talks have surfaced. 42 White Paper, vol. 1, p. 3. 43 Yang Gongsu, Lunsang zhoushinian – yige waijiao teshi de huiyi [Waning Days at 90 Years: The Memoirs of a Special Ambassador], Haikou: Hainan chubanshe, 1999, pp. 245–7. 44 ‘India is not China’s enemy, but rather China’s friend’, 13 May 1959, PRC Foreign Ministry and CCP Central Document Research Office, eds., Mao Zedong waijiao wenxuan [Selected Foreign Policy Documents of Mao Zedong], Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe/Shijie zhishi chubanshe, 1994, p. 377. 45 Documents on the Sino-Indian Boundary Question, Peking: Foreign Language Press, 1960, pp. 2, 12. 46 ‘From the Journal of Ambassador S.F. Antonov, summary of a conversation with the Chairman of the CC CPC Mao Zedong’, Cold War International History Project, Digital Archive, http://digitalarchive.wilsoncenter.org/ document/114788, accessed 18 May 2015. 47 Lei, Zai zuigao tongshuaibu dang canmo, pp. 202–3. 48 Documents on the Sino-Indian Boundary Question, pp. 16–17. 49 Documents on the Sino-Indian Boundary Question, p. 143. 50 Niu, ‘1962’, pp. 10–2. M. Taylor Fravel, Strong Borders, Secure Nation: Cooperation and Conflict in China’s Territorial Dispute, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, p. 83. 51 Pei Jianzhang, ed., Yanjiu Zhou Enlai – waijiao sixiang yu shijian [Research on Zhou Enlai: Diplomatic Thought and Practice], Beijing: Shijie zhishi chubanshe, 1989, pp. 101–3. The basic principles are elaborated in: Pei ­Monong, Zhou Enlai waijiao xue [Study of Zhou Enkai’s Diplomacy], ­Beijing: Zhonggong zhongyang dangxiao chubanshe, 1997, pp. 189–95. 52 Tian Zengpei, ed., Gaige kaifang yilai de Zhongguo waijiao [Chinese Foreign Policy since Opening Up and Reform], Beijing: Shijie zhishi chubanshe, 1993, p. 628. 53 Li, Da waijioajia Zhou Enlai, pp. 280–1, 292, 294. 54 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi, ed., Zhou Enlai nianpu, 1949–1976 [Chronicle of Zhou Enlai, 1949–1976], vol. 2, Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1997, p. 302; Liao Xinwen, ‘Laoyibei gemingjia chuli ZhongYin bianjie wenti de duice fangfa’ [‘The older revolutionary Generation’s Methods for Dealing with the Sino-Indian boundary dispute’], Dangde wenxian, 6, (2013), pp. 70–1. 55 Shi Yanfeng, ‘Zhou Enlai yu 1960 ZhongYin bianjie tanpan: Xindeli shezhan chunru’ [‘Zhou Enlai and the 1960 Sino-Indian Boundary Negotiation: Verbal Battle in New Delhi’], Dangshi wenhui (January 2014); Li, Da waijioajia Zhou Enlai, p. 282.

100  Eric Hyer 56 NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers (I-II instalments), Subject Files, File 24, ‘Record of talks between PM and Premier Chou held on 20th April, 1960, from 5 p.m. to 7 p.m. at the Prime Minister’s Residence’. 57 See chapter by Dai Chaowu. 58 NMML, P.N. Haksar Papers (I-II instalments), Subject Files, File 24, ‘Record of talks between PM and Premier Chou En Lai held on 23rd April, 1960, from 4.30 p.m. to 7.45 p.m’. 59 ‘More on Nehru’s philosophy in the light of the Sino-Indian Boundary Question’, 27 October 1962, Renmin Ribao, in The Sino-Indian Boundary Question, enlarged edition, Peking: Foreign Language Press, 1962, p. 102. 60 Documents on the Sino-Indian Boundary Question, p. 2. 61 Zhang, ‘DuiYin ziwei fanjizhan qianho de huiyi’, p. 71. 62 Li, Da waijioajia Zhou Enlai, pp. 302–6. 63 Quoted in Liao, ‘Laoyibei gemingjia’, p. 71. 64 Xiaonong Liu, Chinese Ambassadors: The Rise of Diplomatic Professionalism since 1949, Seattle: University of Washington Press, 2001, p. 133; Report of the Officials of the Governments of India and the People’s Republic of China on the Boundary Question, New Delhi: GOI, MEA, 1962. 65 PRC FMA, 105–01056–03, ‘Memorandum of conversation between Director Zhang Wenjin and Indian Ambassador Parthasarathy (2)’, 17 July 1961, http://digitalarchive.wilsoncenter.org/document/121626, accessed 20 May 2015. 66 PRC FMA, 105–01056–03, ‘Memorandum of conversation between Director Zhang Wenjin and Indian Ambassador Parthasarathy (1)’, 17 July 1961, http://digitalarchive.wilsoncenter.org/document/121625, accessed 20 May 2015. 67 Steven A. Hoffmann, India and the China Crisis, Berkeley: University of California Press, 1990, pp. 75–114. 68 See chapter by Dai Chaowu. 69 Lüthi, Sino-Soviet Split, pp. 95–104. 70 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP Central Documents Research Office], Mao Zedong zhuan (1949–1976) [A Biography of Mao Zedong (1949–1976)], Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian, 1997, p. 1236. 71 Zhu, ‘Firmly Holding’, pp. L13–19. 72 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi [CCP Central Documents Research Office], ed., Mao Zedong nianpu, 1949–1976 [A Chronicle Mao Zedong’s Life, 1949–1976], vol. 5, Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 2013, pp. 113, 117, 138, 148, 162. 73 Mao Zedong nianpu, 1949–1976, pp. 164–5. 74 ‘Red China says India attacking’, 20 October 1962, Boston Globe, pp. 1, 3. 75 Lüthi, Sino-Soviet Split, p. 227. 76 A report by the Indonesian government to the Canadian ambassador: Library and Archive Canada (LAC), RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40 [Pt. 10], ‘FM JAKARTA JAN12/63 CONFD’. The Chinese made a similar statement to the North Vietnamese, who conveyed it to the Indians when they visited Hanoi in their capacity of the official member of the international supervisory commission of the Indochina Agreements of 1954, see: LAC, RG25, vol. 5284, 9126–40 pt. 12, ‘FM DELHI AUG20/63 CONFD’.

China’s policy of conciliation with its neighbours 101 77 ‘Text of China regime’s ceasefire statement’, 22 November 1962, The Globe and Mail, p. 39. 78 LAC, RG25, vol. 5201, 6083–40 [Pt. 9.2], ‘FM LDN NOV 29/62 CONFD CDN EYES ONLY’. 79 ‘Joint Statement between the People’s Republic of China and the Republic of India’, 20 May 2015, http://www.fmprc.gov.cn/mfa_eng/ wjb_663304/zzjg_663340/yzs_663350/gjlb_663354/2711_663426/2 712_663428/t1265496.shtml, accessed 21 May 2015. 80 The Chicken’s Neck is the narrow corridor connecting India with Arunachal Pradesh near the Chumbi Valley between Sikkim and Bhutan, see: Hyer, Pragmatic Dragon, pp. 53–5. 81 Wayne Wilcox, India, Pakistan and the Rise of China, New York: Walker, 1964, p. 61. 82 ‘The China-Nepal boundary will be eternally friendly and peaceful’, 18 March 1960, Mao Zedong waijiao wenxuan, pp. 395–7; Han, Diplomacy of Contemporary China, p. 184. 83 China sought a non-aggression treaty but Nepal was unwilling to go that far, see: S.D. Muni, Foreign Policy of Nepal, Delhi: National Publishing House, 1973, pp. 105–6, 112. 84 ‘Hot words open talks on Kashmir’, 28 December 1962, The Globe and Mail, p. 1. 85 Altaf Gauhar, Ayub Khan: Pakistan’s First Military Ruler, New York: Oxford University Press, 1996, p. 137. Syed, China and Pakistan, p. 91 86 Xie, Zhongguo waijiao shi: Zhonghua Renmin Gongheguo shiqi 1949–1979, p. 253. 87 PRC FMA, 105–01056–03, ‘Memorandum of conversation between Director Zhang Wenjin and Indian Ambassador Parthasarathy (1)’, 17 July 1961, http://digitalarchive.wilsoncenter.org/document/121625, accessed 20 May 2015. 88 PRC FMA, 105–01801–02, ‘Record of conversation following Pakistani Ambassador to the PRC Raza’s Presentation of Credentials to Liu Shaoqi’, 1 September 1962, http://digitalarchive.wilsoncenter.org/docu ment/121571, accessed 21 May 2015. 89 Quoted in Gauhar, Ayub Khan, p. 141. 90 Han, Diplomacy of Contemporary China, p. 188. 91 ‘Record of conversation between Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai and Mongolian Leader J. Zedenbal’, 26 December 1962, Cold War International History Project, Digital Archive, Mongolia in the Cold War, http://digita larchive.wilsoncenter.org/document/112072, accessed 18 May 2015. 92 ‘More on Nehru’s philosophy in the light of the Sino-Indian Boundary Question’, pp. 100, 107.

Part 2

International perspectives

5 The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war Paul McGarr

In October 1962, a simmering border dispute between India and the People’s Republic of China (PRC) that from the late 1950s had embittered relations between Asia’s two most powerful states descended into armed conflict. In short order, a succession of rapid Chinese military advances saw some commentators question whether India would emerge from the border war as an independent sovereign state. Speaking to his fellow citizens on 22 October, India’s Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru characterized China’s thrust into northern India as ‘the greatest menace that has come to us since independence’.1 With India’s armed forces in full retreat, a national state of emergency was enacted, MPs summoned to parliament, sand bags piled around public buildings, and military recruiting stations flooded with eager volunteers. On the streets of the nation’s major cities, effigies of China’s leader Mao Zedong were torched. Citizens added to the atmosphere of melodrama by publicly penning pledges written in their own blood to defend Mother India.2 In framing the US approach to events unfolding in South Asia, President John F. Kennedy informed senior figures within his administration that, ‘you would, you must figure India a British mission. . . . I think the British ought to take the lead here’.3 Kennedy’s rationale for placing the British front and centre of a Western response to the border war was rooted, in large part, in an orthodoxy that had shaped Washington’s diplomacy in the subcontinent over the preceding decade. Republican and Democrat governments alike had concluded that coordinating policy with the United Kingdom in India would best advance American interests. First the Eisenhower, and subsequently the Kennedy administration, had come to view India as an important bulwark against the expansion of Chinese communist influence in Asia, and beyond. Encouraging the British to maintain a prominent role in South Asian affairs, US officials calculated, would help to offset unease in Congress, Pakistan and the wider international community over increased American economic and political support for Delhi. Moreover,

106  Paul McGarr collaborating with London in the subcontinent also promised to deliver benefits in terms of developmental and military burden sharing. Equally, to the surprise of Whitehall, the experience and connections that Britain had accrued in India over the previous two centuries retained currency in Washington. In the midst of the border war, Kennedy informed his close friend and Britain’s Ambassador to the United States, Sir David Ormsby Gore, that, in defending India, the United Kingdom with its ‘exceptional knowledge of India and as . . . leader of the Commonwealth . . . had an exceptionally important role to play’.4 This chapter explores American and British approaches to the Sino-Indian border war, throwing fresh light on Washington and London’s approach to territorial disputes in the subcontinent, both before and after the events of late 1962. It goes on to trace how, by spearheading the politico-military effort to support Nehru’s government following the outbreak of hostilities with China, the United States and Great Britain accumulated unprecedented Indian goodwill, and an equal measure of Pakistani disapprobation. The chapter interrogates the emergence of US–British disagreements over how best to utilize amplified Western leverage with Nehru’s government, and weighs the impact that such disputes had on the broader triangular relationship between the United States, Britain and India. Particular attention is focused upon the significance of tensions between Washington, London and Delhi over the Harriman-Sandys mission to India in ­November 1962, Indo-Pakistani talks on the Kashmir dispute and the provision of long-term Western military assistance to Nehru’s administration. Advances in contemporary scholarship on American responses to the border war have been made possible, to a considerable extent, by the declassification of state records and private papers in the US, British and Indian archives, and the publication of new official documentary collections in the United States, the United Kingdom and India. The release of a wealth of material by, among others, the US National Archives, the US Library of Congress, the Dwight D. Eisenhower, John F. Kennedy, Lyndon B. Johnson and Richard M. Nixon Presidential Libraries, the Butler Library at Columbia University, the British National Archives, the India Office collections of the British Library, the Bodleian Library at the University of Oxford, Churchill College Archives at the University of Cambridge, the Indian National Archives and the Nehru Museum and Memorial Library has helped to deepen and broaden interpretations of the border war. Notably, the emergence of new documentary evidence has called into question the received wisdom that the Cold War, in a South Asian context at least, was conducted in an East versus West binary. Recent examinations of the border war, grounded in the latest primary material, have instead privileged the power of local agency and stressed the extent to which foreign

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 107 interventions in the region were beholden to potent political, ethnic, communal, religious and cultural forces.

Prelude to war: the Goa crisis and the Indo-Soviet MiG deal Two episodes immediately prior to the outbreak of Sino-Indian hostilities underscored the diplomatic risks inherent in an interventionist policy favoured by the Kennedy administration in South Asia. On 17 December 1961, Indian troops launched ‘Operation Vijay.’ Entering the Portuguese enclaves of Goa, Daman and Diu on India’s Western coastline, Indian forces encountered only token resistance from the territories’ garrisons. In Delhi, news of the invasion led John Kenneth Galbraith, America’s ambassador in India, to predict that Goa would fall in ‘one day and [with] no casualties to speak of’.5 Galbraith’s assessment was prescient. By the morning of 19 December, the Indian army had occupied Goa’s capital Panjim, bringing Portugal’s 460-year presence on the Indian subcontinent to an ignominious end. From 1947 onwards, the Indian government had made a series of fruitless attempts to engage Portugal in bilateral discussions on Goa’s future. To the Indian government’s irritation, Portuguese colonialism was tacitly endorsed by the Eisenhower administration, which valued Lisbon as a Cold War ally. Notably, through its membership of NATO, Portugal provided the United States with access to prized military staging facilities in the North Atlantic and in Portugal itself. In December 1955, the US Secretary of State, John Foster Dulles, enraged Indians by issuing a joint communiqué with Paulo Cunha, Portugal’s foreign minister, in which reference was made to Lisbon’s Asian ‘provinces’. Asked by journalists to clarify the communiqué’s use of the term ‘province’, Dulles aggravated his diplomatic gaffe by blithely responding that ‘As far as I know, all the world regards it [Goa] as a Portuguese province’.6 Speaking subsequently before a gathering of Goan expatriates in Bombay, Nehru openly castigated Dulles, declaring that he had been ‘astonished’ at the ‘extraordinary statement . . . made by the responsible head of the Foreign office of this great country, America’.7 In the weeks preceding Goa’s ‘liberation’, the Kennedy administration had been alarmed at the prospect of an armed clash between Portugal, a NATO ally, and India, a nation pivotal to America’s strategic vision for Asia. Above all, White House officials agonized that Indian military action would see the US Congress, and the wider international community, impose financial sanctions on Delhi, sabotaging India’s prospects of outstripping Chinese economic growth.8 Furthermore, both Washington and London harboured misgivings that an Indian assault on Goa could spark

108  Paul McGarr further conflict in Asia and Africa. Writing to Nehru on 13 ­December 1961, ­ ritain’s Prime Minister Harold Macmillan cautioned that the annexation B of Goa would light the touch paper for a series of regional conflagrations. ‘I feel sure’, Macmillan warned, ‘that President Sukarno would then consider himself justified in making a military attack on New Guinea, and I fear that many of the new African states would have recourse to the same methods in order to solve their feuds and jealousies’.9 In Whitehall, the Commonwealth Relations Office was acutely aware that conflict between India and Portugal would place Britain in an awkward bind. Britain’s financial, military and political investments in India were considerable. However, Anglo-Portuguese treaties dating from 1661 and 1899 bound Britain to defend Lisbon’s overseas territories.10 In the view of the Foreign Office, Britain had much to lose and little to gain from taking on a prominent role in the Goa crisis. ‘Getting into this squabble’, British officials insisted, would ‘do ourselves nothing but harm with the Indians . . . [inviting their] utmost bitterness to any interference on our part’.11 Equally, Portugal’s outmoded and quixotic imperial pretensions garnered scant sympathy in London. ‘It was absurd of the Portuguese’, Macmillan recorded, ‘to try to hold onto it [Goa]’.12 Failing back on a precedent reaffirmed by successive post-war British governments that discounted UK military action against India, or any other member of the Commonwealth, as ‘unthinkable’, Macmillan’s administration followed a policy of concerned detachment.13 In the aftermath of the Goa operation, Adlai Stevenson, the US ambassador to the UN, informed the Security Council that a failure to condemn India’s act of aggression ‘could end with [the UN’s] death’.14 The reaction inside India to such strident Western criticism was one of incredulity mixed with genuine anger. The iniquities of Britain and America’s own colonial and neo-colonial histories led many Indians to dismiss Western censure as grossly hypocritical. Washington ‘could have made a token protest regarding Goa’, one Indian diplomat complained, ‘but instead they approached it as though it were comparable to the Anschluss’.15 Indeed, the Goa incident fuelled concerns inside Kennedy’s government that the international community would splinter along colour lines, exacerbating North–South tensions and widening racial fissures inside the developed world. Throughout the 1950s, the Soviet premier, Nikita S. Khrushchev, took delight in publicly contrasting the Soviet endorsement of nationalist movements in Africa and Asia with the US support for anachronistic colonial regimes. Moreover, Indian passivity in the face of Portugal’s refusal to discuss Goa’s sovereignty had led African nationalists to openly question Nehru’s commitment to the anti-imperial cause. Speaking at a press conference days after India’s military had occupied Panjim, Nehru

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 109 voiced ‘deep distress’ at the sharp division of opinion and attitude that Goa had revealed to exist between countries in the West and those within the Afro-Asian bloc. ‘I do not like this division to put it very crudely between black and white’, the Indian leader stated. ‘It is a bad sign, but there it is.’16 In early December, a debate had raged within the Kennedy administration over the merits of balancing a warning to India against military action with a statement condemning colonialism. Galbraith badgered ­Washington to adopt a ‘bolder and more dramatic’ approach to the Goa question. Supporting India’s position on Goa and strengthening Indo-US ties, the ambassador argued, would better serve Asia’s future and America’s wider interests than a policy tacitly condoning Portuguese imperialism.17 Dean Rusk, Kennedy’s secretary of state, disagreed. Mindful of Lisbon’s importance to NATO, Rusk acceded to a Portuguese request that A ­ merican officials refrain from any public comment on the colonial dimension of the Goa dispute. Furthermore, on 8 December, following a request for American support from Portugal’s Foreign Minister Franco Nogueira, the State Department issued India with a firm warning against military action. In Delhi, a dispirited Galbraith reflected that he had ‘hardly imagined that I would be undercut in such a flaccid and incompetent manner by our own management’.18 So inexplicable had Washington’s timidity seemed in the face of ‘incredible’ Portuguese proposals, which included a suggestion that Pakistani divisions be deployed along India’s border to intimidate Nehru’s government, that a member of Galbraith’s embassy staff ‘conclude[d] that the [US] policy was to support the Portuguese fully and that I was out of step’.19 Tensions injected into Indo-US relations by the Goa crisis were further exacerbated the following spring when it emerged that India planned to purchase Soviet MiG-21 supersonic fighters. India’s air force had previously operated frontline aircraft sourced exclusively from the West. Delhi’s change of heart encompassed several strands. Strategically, Nehru’s government felt compelled to respond to a decision that Kennedy had taken in July 1961 to supply Pakistan with American F-104 supersonic fighters. Likewise, with the Sino-Indian border dispute turning increasingly rancorous, bolstering the nation’s defences appeared prudent.20 Financially, India’s parlous foreign exchange reserves precluded the acquisition of more expensive Western aircraft.21 From Washington’s perspective, the prospect that Nehru’s government would turn away from the West and towards Moscow for its military hardware was seen as politically incendiary. An indignant Congress, Kennedy staffers suspected, would react to such an unwelcome development by censuring India and slashing its allocation of US aid. Offering to supply India with American fighters was ruled out by Washington on the

110  Paul McGarr grounds that it would alienate Pakistan and risk Islamabad’s withdrawal from Western-sponsored regional security pacts, or the closing of US intelligence gathering facilities on Pakistani soil.22 Instead, Kennedy turned to London and pressed Macmillan to make the British Lightning supersonic fighter available to India. On balance, the British cabinet concluded that the benefit of preventing India’s purchase of a handful of Soviet fighters failed to justify the considerable political and economic costs associated with contesting such a transaction.23 At this stage, the British were less concerned about the future possibility of a long-term and large-scale Indo-Soviet fighter programme and more focused on the heavy price of thwarting what they suspected might prove to be a largely symbolic Indian statement of intent. In Delhi, Britain’s High Commissioner Sir Paul Gore-Booth emphasized that India’s purchase of small number of Soviet fighters ‘would not, of course be the end of the world’.24 Some American policymakers concurred. Inside the White House, Robert Komer, the National Security Council’s expert on South Asia, argued that a token show of Soviet military support for India might in fact work to Washington’s advantage by encouraging Nehru to become more openly critical of China. Llewellyn Thompson, Kennedy’s ambassador in Moscow, agreed. In Thompson’s view, an Indo-Soviet MiG deal was unlikely to ‘lead to Indian dependence upon [the] Soviet Union in other military fields . . . [yet] would place serious further strain on their [Soviet] relations with [the] Chicoms’.25 Nonetheless, under considerable pressure from Kennedy, over the summer of 1962 the British embarked upon a half-hearted and ineffectual campaign to scuttle an Indian acquisition of MiGs.26 Heavy-handed tactics employed by American and British officials, which encompassed dire warnings issued to Indian government ministers that by turning to Moscow and antagonizing the US Congress the ‘cheap MiG’ would turn into ‘the most expensive aeroplane the Indians had ever bought’, proved counterproductive.27 On 23 June, fulminating against what he characterized as unwarranted Western duress, Nehru informed India’s parliament that ‘no independent country and certainly not India, can agree to the proposition that our purchases of aircraft or anything can be vetoed by another country’. Although the West had publicly ‘agreed we can buy where we like and what we like’, Nehru seethed, ‘behind it all, although it is not said as a threat, behind it all is the question of aid’.28 In the Western media, the last week of June was categorized as ‘a period of fuming, frustration and political rethinking in New Delhi’.29 The ‘almost overt’ tactics of coercion adopted by Macmillan’s government, and to a lesser degree the United States, one British newspaper commented, ‘had the predictable consequence of uniting all extremes of [Indian] opinion

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 111 behind Mr. Nehru’.30 The strength of Indian opposition to American and British pressure saw Washington beat a tactical retreat, and switch from a policy of cajoling Indian officials to one of ameliorating the friction that the MiG affair had introduced into Indo-US relations. ‘At this point’, ­Kennedy was advised towards the end of the summer, ‘further frenetic efforts on our part [against the MiG deal] will merely depreciate our currency further and create bad blood. We should now begin thinking of how best to . . . recover our footing in India’.31 Intriguingly, during its first year in office, the Kennedy administration’s faith in India’s capacity to serve as a bulwark against communism had briefly assumed a nuclear dimension. On this occasion, concern in Washington had centred on China, and Beijing’s programme to acquire atomic weapons. India, officials in the State Department reasoned, could, with appropriate American technical assistance, become Asia’s first nuclear power. By beating China to membership of the nuclear club, US officials suggested, democratic India would undercut communist claims that state-directed economies offered the surest path to progress and modernity. Moreover, an Indian bomb promised to shield Delhi from Chinese nuclear blackmail, weaken Beijing’s influence over its regional neighbours and moderate communism’s appeal inside India.32 A formidable concatenation of practical and political obstacles ensured that an Indo-US nuclear pact remained confined to the pages of a State Department policy paper. Not least, Nehru’s vehement public opposition to nuclear proliferation, legal constraints surrounding the transferral of US nuclear technology and the volcanic reaction that was anticipated from Pakistan to such a development combined to seal the proposal’s demise.33 The mere fact that the Kennedy administration seriously debated the merits of such a proposal, however, reveals much about Washington’s preoccupation with the expansion of communist influence in Asia in general, and, more specifically, the New Frontier’s obsession with what it interpreted as an especially insidious threat to US national interests posed by militant Chinese communism.

The Sino-Indian border war The onset of Sino-Indian hostilities in October 1962 provided the Kennedy administration with an early and unexpected opportunity to recover the political ground that it had lost in India over the previous twelve months. From the outset, Washington approached the conflict between India and China as a chance to regain India’s favour by providing Nehru’s embattled administration with a firm show of US–British support. Alert, nonetheless, to the imperatives of preserving the appearance of Indian non-alignment, assuaging Pakistani insecurity and containing the scope of Sino-Indian

112  Paul McGarr conflict, Kennedy and his British partners initially offered India rhetorical, rather than material, backing.34 So long as the border war remained a localized affair, American officials judged, there was no need to risk alienating Nehru’s government with unsolicited offers of Western military assistance. In the circumstances, it appeared more prudent to limit US–British interaction with India to expressions of ‘quiet sympathy and encouragement’.35 Towards the end of October, the scale of Indian military reverses at the hands of the Chinese led Washington and London reconsider their hands-off approach. On 25 October, a shocked Nehru conceded that his government had been found wanting and was guilty of drifting along ‘in an artificial atmosphere of our own creation’.36 The following day, India’s premier called openly for international ‘sympathy and support’.37 In response, Kennedy’s administration formally recognized the McMahon Line, which India claimed delineated its northeastern border with China, and began expediting the delivery of automatic rifles, ammunition and military spares to a grateful India.38 At the same time, Kennedy pushed the reluctant British to the forefront of a collaborative Western effort to defend India. Conscious, as Secretary of Defense Robert McNamara pointedly emphasized that Britain’s financial and military limitations would constrain London’s long-term capacity to assist India, Kennedy nevertheless judged that working with Macmillan’s government offered short-term advantages. Rehashing familiar arguments, Kennedy reasoned that with the British in the vanguard, American intervention in the subcontinent would prove more palatable to the international community and ease Congress’ reservations over US action in South Asia. William Fulbright, Chairman of the Senate Committee on Foreign Relations, had privately warned administration officials of his concern that the United States would face a problem of strategic overstretch should it embark on unilateral intervention in South Asia. Moreover, the antipathy that Nehru’s government had garnered on Capitol Hill led many of ­Fulbright’s fellow legislators to openly gloat at India’s predicament. While the extent of Chinese territorial ambitions in the subcontinent remained uncertain, it seemed, Congressmen were in no hurry to rush to Delhi’s assistance.39 Consequently, in coordinating a response to the Sino-Indian crisis with London, Kennedy hoped to offset a proportion of the politico-military burden that the State Department and the Pentagon estimated would be required to underwrite Indian security.40 Following Kennedy’s cue, Dean Rusk set about cajoling the British to mobilize a coalition of the ‘old’ Commonwealth forces to assist India. A Commonwealth coalition, Rusk suggested, could assist Delhi by halting grain shipments to China, convening an emergency summit, calling on Pakistan to extend an olive branch to India and possibly sending

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 113 a detachment of combat troops to the subcontinent.41 Discounting the absence of a Commonwealth collective security mechanism, Rusk made clear that without the participation of the old Commonwealth, ‘the United States would face political difficulties in underwriting India’s security’. To reinforce this point, Galbraith was instructed to ensure that Nehru’s government ‘insist[ed] on maximum Commonwealth support. . . . Specifically, any requests for assistance made of us should also be addressed to the British’.42 For its part, Macmillan’s government was alarmed at the prospect of Britain becoming enmeshed in a Sino-Indian War. One Foreign Office report contended that by scrambling to furnish India with military assistance, the Commonwealth risked dislocating the existing balance of power between India and Pakistan and squandering precious resources if, as was suspected, China’s territorial ambitions proved limited. Moreover, the Foreign Office added, Britain’s economic problems alone suggested that ‘even if the Americans can afford to give unlimited aid [to India] we cannot’.43 After a lull in Sino-Indian fighting towards the end of October, by the middle of November 1962 a combination of Indian jingoism, Delhi’s decision to rebuff peace overtures from Beijing and intelligence indicating that fresh Chinese troops were being mobilized along the border set alarm bells ringing in Washington and London. What had seemed ‘essentially a border conflict’, Galbraith reflected on 13 November, now looked set to develop into ‘something more serious’.44 On 15 November, in the most potent demonstration of Chinese power since the People’s Liberation Army had flooded across the Yalu River and into North Korea in October 1950, India suffered a second wave of catastrophic military defeats. In a rerun of ­October’s debacle, more than 40 Indian Army outposts were overrun in the Western Himalaya in Ladakh, and the strategically vital Chushul airfield peppered with Chinese artillery fire. In the northeast, Chinese forces took control of the Indian towns of Walong and Bomdila and, in the process, breached the defensive line guarding India’s densely populated central plains.45 Addressing a stunned nation on 19 November, Nehru announced that his government had appealed to the United States and Great Britain for ‘massive’ military aid. In tones redolent of that archenemy of Indian nationalism, Winston Churchill, India’s leader declared defiantly that ‘we are not going to tolerate this kind of invasion of India. . . . India is not going to lose this war, however long it lasts and whatever harm it may do us’.46 The implication that Nehru might consider temporarily qualifying Indian non-alignment was driven by a real and present danger that, without immediate and substantial international military assistance, much of northern India risked falling under Chinese control. India’s Home Minister Lal Bahadur Shastri had earlier cautioned his cabinet colleagues that

114  Paul McGarr with the Indian Army in full retreat, the PLA was free to walk unopposed into Assam and Bengal. Contingency plans had been put in place, Shastri added sombrely, to disable Assam’s oil fields before they fell into Chinese hands.47 In a stark personal appeal to Kennedy, Nehru represented India’s situation as ‘desperate’. Only prompt American military intervention in the conflict, an incredulous American president was informed by India’s prime minister, could avoid ‘nothing short of a catastrophe for our country’. Specifically, Nehru asked Kennedy to authorize the transfer to India of twelve squadrons of American supersonic fighters, two squadrons of bombers and a mobile radar network. Aghast that Nehru was ‘clearly in a state of panic’, Kennedy speculated whether the ageing premier’s nerve and judgment had abandoned him.48 Galbraith shared Kennedy’s concern. Having spent much of his time in Delhi deflecting charges from the Indian Left that Washington was conspiring to undermine the nation’s independence, the US Ambassador was dismayed to find the Indian government now ‘pleading for military association’.49 Doubtful that the latest Chinese thrust would materialize into a full-scale invasion of India, Dean Rusk instructed Galbraith to advise Nehru that his government would have to accept some tough conditions before America considered direct intervention in the Sino-Indian War. These included maximizing India’s mobilization of its own political and military resources, exploring an Indo-Pakistani rapprochement and garnering support from the British Commonwealth and South East Asia nations, such as Thailand, Burma and Malaya, with a common interest in containing China. Moreover, if, having first exhausted all other avenues, Delhi requested assistance from American combat forces, as a quid pro quo India would be expected to abandon its Cold War neutrality and become a formal ally of the West.50 Earlier in November, American officials, led by Deputy Assistant Secretary of Defense William Bundy, had travelled to London to coordinate the provision of Anglo-American military assistance to India. Between 12 and 14 November, Bundy’s team negotiated an agreement with the ­British to confine military aid to India to ‘reasonable quantities’ of defensive equipment, encompassing small arms, radio sets and winter clothing. Such a moderate programme of military support for India, American and British officials rationalized, would prove sufficient to uphold Indian sovereignty and avoid exacerbating Pakistan’s insecurity or encouraging China to escalate the border war.51 Back in Delhi, an angry Galbraith smouldered that the London talks had failed to adequately address India’s sense of vulnerability. ‘After lecturing the Indians for years on the aggressive tendencies of the Chinese Communists’, the Ambassador fumed, ‘we cannot now turn around and explain that these chaps are really lambs’.52

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 115 Galbraith’s fears were assuaged when, in response to Nehru’s plea for American military support, Kennedy shelved the London agreement and sent a high-level fact-finding mission to the subcontinent to assess the gravity of the situation facing India. Based on the Taylor Mission that had reviewed the military picture in South Vietnam for Kennedy in October 1961, the US delegation to India was commanded by the veteran diplomat Averell W. Harriman. Harriman’s brief was to establish the precise nature of India’s military predicament, and to provide Nehru’s government with an overt demonstration of American solidarity.53 At the same time, Macmillan despatched a British politico-military team to India, led by Duncan Sandys, the Secretary of State for Commonwealth Relations.54 On 20 November, with Harriman and Sandys yet to reach India, the Chinese government unexpectedly declared a unilateral ceasefire. Catching politicians in Delhi, Washington and London by surprise, Beijing announced that its armed forces would pull back to positions 20 kilometres behind the line of actual control that had existed prior to 7 November 1959.55 The timing of the ceasefire declaration, Whitehall officials observed ruefully, had left India ‘somewhat more committed to the West than would have been the case had the Chinese acted two days earlier’.56 More significantly, perhaps, the Chinese action effectively absolved Nehru of the responsibility for taking what, for the Indian leader, would have been an agonizing decision. Beijing’s loud protestations that Nehru had compromised Indian non-alignment by turning to the West for military support, while rejected by many inside the developing world, nevertheless, left many Indians feeling uneasy. In the absence of the Chinese ceasefire, how would Nehru have balanced obligations to uphold Indian national sovereignty with stipulations from Dean Rusk that direct American intervention in the Sino-Indian War would necessitate New Delhi’s adherence to the Western system of collective security? With the prospect of a Western combat role in the War having receded by the time Harriman and Sandys arrived in Delhi, once on the ground in India the separate British and American missions quickly concurred that the Chinese threat to South Asia could only be contained at a manageable economic and political cost by India and Pakistan burying their animosities and entering into a joint defence plan for the subcontinent.57 ­Engineering a rapprochement in Indo-Pakistan relations, however, at least from ­Pakistan’s perspective, was dependent on the resolution of the K ­ ashmir dispute, which had embittered relations between Delhi and ­ Islamabad since 1947. Over the course of 1963, American and British attempts to cajole Nehru’s government into an agreement under which India would trade Western military support against China in return for an Indo-Pakistan

116  Paul McGarr Kashmir settlement would prove futile, and succeed only in driving a wedge between India, the United States and Great Britain.

The Kashmir dispute and Indian air defence The Kennedy administration’s policy of linking the provision of Indian military aid to an Indo-Pakistan Kashmir settlement made little sense to American diplomats in the subcontinent. An exercised Galbraith warned Washington that Indians were bound to react with cold fury should A ­ merica, Britain and Pakistan appear to be colluding to enforce the surrender of Indian territory while the Chinese were grabbing land elsewhere in the north. ‘For God’s sake’, Galbraith implored the State Department, ‘keep Kashmir out of it’.58 Choosing to ignore Galbraith’s counsel, H ­ arriman and Sandys inveigled upon a resentful Nehru to open talks with Pakistan on Kashmir. Failure to do so, the Indian premier was cautioned, would erode the political and public support in the United States and the United Kingdom that Kennedy and Macmillan needed to deliver a programme of military assistance to India. As Galbraith had suspected, however, six rounds of Indo-Pakistan talks on Kashmir, held between December 1962 and May 1963, succeeded only in aggravating fractious relations between India and Pakistan.59 In April 1963, frustrated by the ‘badly lagging tempo’ of Indo-Pakistan talks on Kashmir, Galbraith hatched a plan to break the negotiating impasse by offering Nehru ‘a crude bazaar level’ bargain. Changing tack, and abandoning the position he had staked out in November 1962, Galbraith suggested asking India to relinquish a ‘substantial’ area of the Kashmir Valley to Pakistan in return for a ‘sizable’ long-term programme of American military aid.60 The White House dismissed Galbraith’s proposal as an unnecessary and risky intervention in bilateral discussions between India and Pakistan at a point when they had yet to run their course.61 On 15 April, disregarding instructions from the State Department to take no action, Galbraith presented the ‘bazaar bargain’ to Nehru.62 The infuriated Indian premier turned it down flatly. His ‘bazaar-level’ approach having backfired, a chastened Galbraith was left to inform Washington that Nehru had subsequently delighted in informing anyone who would listen ‘that we [Americans] were real bastards’.63 Further initiatives undertaken by the Kennedy administration to extract a political advantage from Nehru’s government by exploiting Indian anxieties in relation to Beijing faired equally poorly. A scheme to boost American radio penetration into China by locating a Voice of America (VOA) transmitter in eastern India was a case in point. Allowing a radio transmitter located on Indian soil to disseminate US anti-Chinese propaganda could

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 117 not be considered a defensive measure vital to the nation’s security and, as such, clearly cut against the grain of non-alignment. Under considerable American duress, Nehru first agreed to the operation of a VOA transmitter in India, and then, confronted by powerful domestic opposition, reneged on the deal. The very public debacle left Nehru politically weakened, and Washington red-faced.64 Likewise, pressure exerted on India by Washington in the air defence field proved largely ineffectual. In mid-November 1962, Nehru’s call for American combat jets to be sent to the subcontinent to defend Indian airspace had been prompted by fears that China’s Air Force would bomb the country’s eastern cities.65 Concerned that America’s armed forces were overcommitted elsewhere, the Pentagon recommended that prime responsibility for Indian air defence should be left to the British.66 The State Department agreed, arguing the operation of Commonwealth as opposed to American fighter squadrons in India would prove more acceptable to Pakistan and help to make ongoing military support for Nehru’s government more ‘saleable’ on Capitol Hill. ‘Indian air defence’, Dean Rusk confirmed on Galbraith in early December 1962, ‘is a field in which we are going to insist on Commonwealth leadership’.67 In New Delhi, Galbraith objected loudly to what he saw as the State Department’s inexplicable willingness to allow the British to ‘get the credit’ from sending their fighter aircraft to India’s rescue.68 In the estimation of the American ambassador, Nehru’s government was on the verge of cooperating in the containment of Communist China in return for the provision of long-term Western military aid. The importance of exploiting such a propitious opportunity to draw India into the Western orbit, Galbraith insisted, meant that the air defence issue was far too important to be left to the feckless British.69 In response, Washington acknowledged that a prominent Commonwealth role in India’s air defence risked alienating Nehru’s government by permitting the British to dictate when, and in what form, fighter support might materialize. Nonetheless, the political value of working though the Commonwealth in South Asia retained a surprising amount of currency with senior American policymakers.70 Characteristically, the British approached the air defence question from an entirely different angle. Macmillan’s government recoiled at the prospect of the Royal Air Force undertaking combat air patrols over India. The possibility that British fighters might be compelled to shoot down Chinese bombers, embroiling the United Kingdom in hostilities with Beijing, was regarded as unthinkable. Duncan Sandys maintained that deploying the RAF in the subcontinent was militarily unnecessary and more likely than not to ‘provoke the Chinese to attack India again in the hope of involving Western prestige in an Indian defeat’.71 This in turn, Sandys postulated,

118  Paul McGarr could see events in the subcontinent spiral out of control, and result in ‘a major trial of strength between China and the West and possibly a nuclear war’.72 In general, the British were troubled that the United States’ breach with Communist China after 1949 had led ‘the Americans . . . to view with much greater equanimity than we . . . the prospect of a shooting war developing between the West and China’.73 Mindful of its substantial trading stake in China and the strategic vulnerability of Hong Kong, Macmillan’s government had no wish to break with Beijing. In January 1963, the ­British underlined this fact by welcoming Lu Hsu-Chang, China’s vice minister for foreign trade, to London. ‘It is important for our trade with China that we do this’, Lord Home informed Duncan Sandys, ‘we are so badly in need of export outlets it would, I think, be difficult to justify to Parliament and public a more rigid attitude towards China, out of deference to India’.74 In a bid to avoid Britain being sucked into an air war with China, ­Macmillan’s government stipulated a series of onerous preconditions that would have to be met by Washington before the RAF was to be permitted to operate in India. These encompassed a concomitant US Air Force combat presence and Kennedy’s undertaking to protect British assets, such as Hong Kong, from Chinese retaliation. Disinclined to offer Delhi security guarantees on a par with that of formal allies, such as Pakistan, but with none of the attendant responsibilities, the British also insisted on formal Indian military association with the West in return for the provision of air defence.75 Kennedy spurned Macmillan’s terms, considering them likely to drive a wedge between his administration and Pakistan, and alienate Nehru’s government by calling for India’s abrogation of non-alignment. A fudged solution emerged from the US–British impasse. This saw Britain and the United States conclude an agreement with the Indian government to stage periodic joint air exercises in the subcontinent, without either party entering into mutual security obligations of any kind.76 Frustrated American officials subsequently lamented that British timidity had sacrificed a valuable opportunity to consolidate Western influence in India by offering Nehru a no-strings attached security guarantee. In an NSC meeting on 9 May, McGeorge Bundy, Assistant to President ­Kennedy for National Security Affairs, griped that the British ‘really don’t accept our basic view that there is a revolution in policy in the subcontinent. I think that’s what it comes down to’. Reflecting upon the potential deterrent effect of a comprehensive air defence scheme on future Chinese aggression against India, Kennedy himself mused that ‘I don’t think there’s any ­ hinese to doubt that this country is determined we couldn’t permit the C defeat the Indians. Don’t know what we’re doing if we were. We might as well get out of South Korea and South Vietnam. . . . We would quite

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 119 obviously use nuclear weapons if we were really going to be overrun in . . . India. . . . [The question is] is a deterrent necessary to the Chinese and therefore do we want to express a guarantee at this time, and second in what way can we get the most political mileage out of it if we give the guarantee to the Indians, and the least political heat from the Pakistanis, and do we need the British to go with us on it’.77 The air defence compromise proved more satisfactory to the British, principally by limiting the risk of their involvement in a regional conflict with China. Tellingly, however, with tensions between Beijing and Delhi having cooled by early 1963 and opposition mounting in India to foreign participation in the country’s defence, Nehru had perhaps the most cause for satisfaction from the air defence arrangement. From the Indian premier’s vantage point, the Chinese had been given a clear signal of Western military intent, while, nominally at least, Indian non-alignment remained intact. In November 1963, following a single combined training operation in the subcontinent, involving Indian, American, British and ­Australian military aircraft, Nehru quietly shelved a second exercise scheduled for April 1964.

Conclusion The chasm that existed between relative American and British power at the time of the Sino-Indian border war and the divergent viewpoints from which Washington and Whitehall approached their relationships with India and Communist China, militated against the operation of an effective US–­ British partnership in the Indian subcontinent. American and British strategic goals in South Asia were broadly compatible. Pronounced tactical differences existed between American and British policymakers, however, over how best to address regional challenges or exploit regional opportunities. By electing to work closely with Harold Macmillan’s government in South Asia, initiatives championed by the Kennedy administration were invariably delayed, diluted and rendered ineffectual. In the case of the Sino-Indian border war, as Washington belatedly came to acknowledge, London was ­ olitical and military role pressed by the United States to take on a financial, p in support of India, for which Britain was singularly ill-equipped. Equally, the documentary records suggest that in the early 1960s ­American policymakers had a profoundly inadequate sense of the extent to which India’s previously intractable problems were susceptible to external manipulation. Whether attempting to prevent Delhi’s annexation of Goa, halt India’s purchase of Soviet combat aircraft, coax Nehru’s government into becoming a de facto member of the West’s system of collective security or broker a settlement to the Indo-Pakistan dispute over Kashmir, actions

120  Paul McGarr undertaken by the United States in concert with Great Britain invariably succeeded only in alienating Indian opinion. Having come to office in January 1961 with the intention of transforming India into a beacon of Asian democracy and advocate of American interests inside the non-aligned world, towards the end of 1963 the steam had run out of the Kennedy administration’s Indian project. Protracted and enervating disputes between Washington and Delhi over military aid and Kashmir brought on by the Sino-Indian War had a chilling impact on Indo-US relations. Moreover, an abrupt change at the top of the American government in November that year exacerbated a growing sense of detachment between India and the United States. On 22 November, following Kennedy’s assassination in Dallas, Texas, Lyndon B. Johnson took charge of a traumatized nation and inherited a series of pressing domestic and foreign policy problems. Issues left over from his predecessor’s intervention into the politics of the Indian subcontinent, Johnson decided, could wait while more urgent matters were addressed, at home and abroad. ­Washington’s focus in Asia was, fatefully, already moving away from the Indian subcontinent and towards the turmoil engulfing South Vietnam. Other wars loomed large on the Asian horizon, and it was to these that successive American governments redirected their attention.

Notes 1 The Times, 23 October 1962; ‘Galbraith to State Department, 18 October 1962’, United States, Department of State, Foreign Relations of the United States (FRUS) 1961–1963, vol. XIX, South Asia, Washington, D.C: Government Printing Office, 1996, pp. 346–7. 2 National Archives of the United Kingdom (NAUK), DO 196/75, ‘Gore-Booth to Saville Garner’, 26 October 1962; Neville Maxwell, India’s China War, London: Penguin Books, 1972, p. 414; National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), CIA Records Search Tool (CREST), ‘CIA Daily Intelligence Bulletin’, 28 October 1962. 3 John F. Kennedy Library (JFKL), Meetings Recordings, Tape No. 62, ‘Sino-Indian War’, 19 November 1962. 4 ‘Presidential meeting on Sino-Indian conflict’, 19 November 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, pp. 395–6; NAUK, FO 371/164929, FC1063/14, ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2899’, 19 November 1962. 5 Entry for 20 December 1961, in John Kenneth Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal: A Personal Account of the Kennedy Years, Boston: Houghton Mifflin, 1969, p. 285. 6 Arthur Rubinoff, India’s Use of Force in Goa, Bombay: Popular Prakashan, 1971, pp. 67–8. 7 ‘Nehru Bombay speech’, 4 June 1956, in Mushirul Hasan, H.Y. Sharad Prasad, and A.K. Damodaran, eds., Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd Series, vol. 33, New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 2004, p. 412.

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 121 8 ‘Weil to Talbot’, Washington, 6 December 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 147. 9 NAUK, PREM 11/3837, ‘Macmillan to Nehru’, 13 December 1961. 10 NAUK, FO 371/159707/D1024/52, ‘The Anglo-Portuguese Treaty’, 13 December 1961. 11 NAUK, FO 371/159706/D1024/30, ‘Warner note on Goa’, 8 December 1961. 12 Bodleian Library, Harold Macmillan Papers (HMP), MSS Macmillan, dep. c. 332, f. 293, ‘Macmillan to Menzies’, 19 December 1961. 13 NAUK, FO 371/159707/D1024/52, ‘The Anglo-Portuguese Treaty’, 13 December 1961. 14 ‘Failure of Goa Cease-Fire Call could be end of U.N.’, The Times, 20 December 1961, p. 8. 15 Michael Brecher, India and World Politics: Krishna Menon’s View of the World, London: Oxford University Press, 1968, p. 134. 16 ‘White & Black Division on Goa regretted’, Amrita Bazar Patrika, 29 December 1961, p. 1. 17 ‘Weil to Talbot’, Washington, 6 December 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 146. 18 Entry for 18 December 1961, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, pp. 281–5. 19 NARA, RG 59, Lot 72 D 192, Box 41, Folder G, ‘Galbraith to Rusk’, 19 December 1961. 20 NAUK, PREM 11/3836, ‘Delhi to CRO, No. 633’, 7 May 1962; NAUK, T 317/362, ‘Sandys to Macmillan, SOSCRO No. 26’, 17 June 1962. 21 NAUK, PREM 11/3836, ‘Delhi to CRO, No. 634’, 7 May 1962; Bodleian Library, Sir Paul Gore-Booth Papers, MSS.Gorebooth 85, f. 141, ‘Mountbatten to Gore-Booth’, 21 June 1962. 22 ‘Special National Intelligence Estimate, SNIE 31/32–62’, 6 June 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 263. 23 NAUK, CAB 130/186, ‘GEN. 767/3rd Meeting’, 15 June 1962; NAUK, CAB 21/5685, ‘Macmillan to Sandys’, 15 June 1962; Bodleian, HMP, Macmillan diaries, d.45, 19 June 1962. 24 NAUK, CAB 21/5685, ‘Gore-Booth to Saville Garner’, 12 June 1962. 25 ‘Komer to McGeorge Bundy’, 9 May 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, pp. 242–3; JFKL, National Seccutiry Files (NSF), Box 420, ‘Komer to McGeorge Bundy’, 22 May 1962; NARA, RG59, 791.5622, 5–962, Box 2135, ‘Thompson to Rusk, No. 3025’, 22 May 1962. 26 ‘Kennedy to Macmillan’, 9 June 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, pp. 265–6. 27 NAUK, DO 121/239, ‘Sandys’ interview with Morarji Desai’, 15 June 1962; NAUK, T 317/362, ‘Sandys to CRO, No. 26’, 17 June 1962. 28 NAUK, T 317/363, ‘Nehru speech to Rajya Sabha’, 23 June 1962. 29 The New York Times, 1 July 1962. 30 The Times, 5 July 1962. 31 JFKL, NSF, Box 107, General, India, 7/26/62–7/31/52, ‘Komer to McGeorge Bundy’, 26 July 1962. 32 George Perkovich, India’s Nuclear Bomb: The Impact on Global Proliferation, Berkley: University of California Press, 1999, pp. 52–3. 33 Ibid.

122  Paul McGarr 34 ‘Brubeck to Bundy’, 15 October 1962, and ‘Galbraith to State Department’, 18 October 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, pp. 340, 343–4; NAUK, DO 196/165, ‘Delhi to CRO, No. 1623’, 20 October 1962; NAUK, FO 371/164914, ‘FC 1061/92, Memo from E.H. Peck’, 22 October 1962; Churchill College, Duncan Sandys Papers (DSP), DSDN 8/1, ‘CRO to Delhi, No. 2250, Sandys to Nehru’, 26 October 1962. 35 Entry for 23 October 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, New Delhi, p. 430. 36 Gopal, Nehru, 1956–1964, p. 223. 37 NAUK, DO 196/75, ‘Gore-Booth to Saville Garner’, 26 October 1962. 38 Entries for 26 and 29 October 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, pp. 440, 7; NAUK, FO 371/164914/FC 1061/82, ‘Delhi to CRO, No. 1629’, 21 October 1962; NAUK, FO 371/164880/F 1195/11/G, ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2723’, 29 October 1962. 39 Library of Congress (LC), Manuscript Division, W. Averell Harriman Papers (HP), Box 537, Folder 1, ‘Harriman conversation with Fulbright’, 4 December 1962; LC, HP, Box 536, Folder 2, ‘Harriman to Rusk’, 18 December 1962. 40 ‘Presidential meeting on Sino-Indian conflict’, 19 November 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, pp. 395–6. 41 NAUK, FO 371/164929, FC1063/14/G, ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2899’, 19 November 1962. 42 ‘State Department to New Delhi, 20 November 1962’, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 401. 43 NAUK, FO 371/164929, FC1063/1, ‘E.H. Peck paper’, 2 November 1962; NAUK, CAB 130/189, ‘GEN.779, Meeting on Sino-Indian Conflict’, 20 November 1962; NAUK, DO 196/168, ‘COS (62) 73’, 20 November 1962. 44 Entry for 13 November 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, New Delhi, pp. 474–5. 45 JFKL, NSF, Box 108, ‘Galbraith to Rusk, No. 1898’, 20 November 1962. 46 The New York Times, 20 November 1962. 47 Gopal, Nehru, 1956–1964, p. 228; NAUK, DO 196/168, ‘COS (62) 73’, 20 November 1962. 48 NAUK, DO 196/168, ‘Ormsby Gore to Macmillan, No. 2899’, 20 November 1962. 49 Entry for 19 November 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, p. 486; JFKL, NSF, Box 108, ‘Galbraith to Rusk, No. 1898’, 20 November 1962. 50 ‘Rusk to Delhi’, 20 November 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 400; NAUK, DO 196/168, ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2900’, 20 November 1962; NAUK, DO 196/168, ‘Ormsby Gore to Macmillan, No. 2899’, 20 November 1962. 51 NAUK, FO 371/164929/FC1063/13 (D), ‘CRO to New Delhi’, 15 November 1962. 52 Entry for 16–17 November 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, pp. 478–80. 53 JFKL, Meetings Recordings, Tape No. 62, ‘Sino-Indian War’, 19 N ­ ovember 1962; ‘Kennedy to Harriman and Galbraith’, 23 N ­ ovember 1962, and ‘Galbraith to Washington, No. 2032’, 24 November 1962, FRUS, ­ 1961–1963, vol. XIX, p. 405.

The United States, Britain and the Sino-Indian border war 123 54 NAUK, FO 371/164929/FC1063/14/G, ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2899’, 19 November 1962; NAUK, FC1063/16 (C), ‘Ormsby Gore to FO’, 20 November 1962; Churchill College, DSP, DSDN 8/12, ‘Sandys to Macmillan’, 13 November 1962. 55 NAUK, FO 371/164930/FC 1063/35G, ‘Ledward to McKenzieJohnston’, 24 November 1962. 56 NAUK, DO 196/172, ‘Sino-Indian conflict: Policy situation’, 22 November 1962. 57 LC, HP, Box 536, Folder 1, ‘Report of the Harriman Mission’, no date. 58 Entry for 28 October 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, pp. 441–2. 59 LC, HP, Box 536, Folder 1, ‘Report of the Harriman Mission’, no date; Entry for 11 December 1962, in Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, New Delhi, p. 518. 60 FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, ‘Galbraith to State Department, New Delhi’, 25 March 1963, pp. 526–9. 61 JFKL, NSF, Box 109A, ‘Komer to McGeorge Bundy’, 27 March 1963. 62 JFKL, NSF, Box 109A, ‘Kennedy to Galbraith’, 28 March 1963; FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, ‘Presidential meeting on Kashmir’, Washington, 1 April 1963, pp. 535–7. 63 JFKL, NSF, Box 126A, ‘Galbraith to Rusk, No. 4068’, 19 April 1963. 64 Kux, Estranged Democracies, p. 215. 65 NAUK, DO 196/171, ‘Appendix 2 Annex to COS (62) 477, Report by Air Vice Marshall P.G. Wykeham, Director, Joint Warfare Staff, on the Indian Air Force’, 22–30 November 1962; NAUK, FO 371/164880, F1195/44/G (A), ‘Ormsby Gore to FO, No. 2901, Nehru to Kennedy’, 20 November 1962. 66 JFKL, NSF, Box 109, ‘JCS Memorandum to McNamara, JCSM-996–62’, 14 December 1962. 67 NARA, RG59, CDF, 1960–1963, Box 2136, 791.5622/10–2062, ‘Rusk to Galbraith’, 5 December 1962. 68 Entry for 10 December 1962, in: Galbraith, Ambassador’s Journal, p. 517. 69 LC, HP, Box 537, Folder 7, ‘Galbraith to NSC Executive Committee’, 17 December 1962. 70 LC, HP, Box 472, Folder 2, ‘Harriman meeting with Talbot’, 28 January 1963. 71 NAUK, DO 196/175, ‘Sandys to Macmillan, 46/62’, 10 December 1962, and earlier drafts within same series. 72 Ibid. 73 NAUK, PREM 11/4301, ‘The Indian War Machine’, 29 March 1963. 74 NAUK, DO 196/4, ‘Home to Sandys’, 11 January 1963. 75 NAUK, DO 196/175, ‘Sandys to Macmillan, 46/62’, 10 December 1962; NAUK, FO 371/164925, FC 1061/314, ‘Air Support for India: Political assessment, A.J. de la Mare’, 12 December 1962; NAUK, PREM 11/4229, ‘Prime Minister’s talks with President Kennedy, 4 (h), Nassau’, 20 December 1962, p. 40. 76 NAUK, PREM 11/4229, ‘Prime Minister’s talks with President Kennedy, 4 (h), Nassau’, 20 December 1962, p. 44. 77 JFKL, Meetings Recordings, Tape No. 86 (1), NSC Meeting on India, 9 May 1963.

6 Pakistan and 1962 Amit R. Das Gupta

There is no lack of turning points in early Pakistani history. The year of 1958 brought the first military coup; the Kashmir War in 1965 was a military failure and above all a political disaster leading to the downfall of Mohammad Ayub Khan; and 1971 saw the secession of Bangladesh. The year of 1962 easily adds to the list of crucial dates. There was no other third party more affected by the Sino-Indian border war than Pakistan. It triggered events which would finally add the second constant to the country’s foreign policy. From its birth, the country has been entrenched in never-ending antagonism with its much larger twin India. The year 1962 resulted in a similarly stable constellation – the axis Beijing–Islamabad, surviving all turns of the Cold War and the Cold War itself. Whatever other common interests they shared, India’s two arch rivals discovered that cooperation was to their mutual benefit. As we will see, the alliance – informal until today – did not come out of the blue. Moreover, until 1965 or even 1971 the United States seemingly offered an alternative or even a supplement. American policy during and immediately after the border war, however, made P ­ akistani decision-makers understand that Washington considered non-aligned India more relevant if the worst came to the worst, an assessment to be confirmed in 1965. On the contrary, whatever the many enigmatic features of Chinese policy, there could be no doubt that Beijing shared Islamabad’s interest in reducing Indian influence in the region and the world. Because Pakistani archives remain closed, it is difficult to give a fair assessment of the country’s policy. Apart from interpreting published exchanges of notes and letters, public statements and comments in the press close to the government, any analysis to a certain extent has to rely on documentary provided by other parties. As usual, scholars run the risk to take as facts what are actually views, perceptions or even misunderstandings of – as in this case – mostly American, British or Indian diplomats and politicians. Memoirs of Pakistani decision-makers – most prominently President

Pakistan and 1962 125 Mohammad Ayub Khan1 – have proved not reliable enough to advance the understanding of internal processes at critical junctures.

Weighing options Against the opposition of the All India Congress, Mohammed Ali Jinnah’s Muslim League had accomplished a separate state, but thereafter five times larger India was calling the shots. The Pakistani attempt to win Kashmir by force had mostly failed, leaving India with the relevant parts of the former princely state. Moreover, Delhi had sent its military to crush the resistance of those Muslim princes who had opted for Pakistan or independence, not willing to accept enclaves. The Bengal Crisis from 1950 had the potential to trigger an all-out war between the two hostile twins, and demands by Indian hawks ‘to teach Pakistan a lesson’ found a broad echo in the Indian public.2 There was but one conclusion to be drawn from the crises following the partition of British India. Thanks to its superior potential in all levels, Delhi could bully Karachi unless the latter found allies enabling it to form a proper counterweight.3 As Pakistan had no intention to become a second Nepal, formally independent but de facto much of an Indian client state, it started looking for powerful friends. Only four years later, the problem seemed to be solved. In the overall anti-Soviet alliance system the United States tried to establish in the mid-1950s, India was meant to form an important part, but non-alignment stood against concluding any military alliances, let alone the highly critical stand of the Nehru government towards US policy in general. Pakistan with its two wings to the west and the east of India appeared the best available substitute.4 On the basis of a Mutual Defence Assistance Agreement of 19 May 1954, the United States delivered to Pakistan arms worth around US$ 1.5 billion for over a decade.5 In September 1954, Pakistan joined the South East Asia Treaty Organisation (SEATO) and a year later also the Baghdad Pact, thereby becoming ‘America’s most allied ally’.6 Right from the beginning, the crux turned out to be fundamentally different interpretations of the meaning of the new alliance. Washington focused on the communist threat from the north, whereas Karachi hardly saw any risk of a Soviet or Chinese attack.7 In Pakistani eyes, the alliance was a security guarantee against India with whom the United States tried to establish good relations, too. As Washington’s policymakers dreamed of a united Indo-Pakistani front against the socialist bloc, their very nightmare was another Indo-Pakistani escalation.8 As long as the situation in South Asia remained calm and Pakistan received modern weaponry, however, those fundamental disagreements did not surface.9

126  Amit R. Das Gupta Initially, the rapprochement with the United States formed an obstacle to the establishment of closer relations with Beijing. Earlier on, Karachi had pursued a China policy much in harmony with India’s, recognizing the communist government as early as 4 January 1950 and supporting C ­ hina’s UN membership.10 By 1951, missions were exchanged. N ­ evertheless, ­Karachi viewed Beijing with suspicion, among others for being closely allied with the USSR. Stalin denounced recently decolonized countries as Western stooges, and neither China’s military intervention in Korea nor the occupation of Tibet were prone to make it more trustworthy in Pakistani eyes. To make things worse, Stalin’s successors supported Afghanistan’s claim to create Pakhtunistan11 and India’s claim for Kashmir.12 Against this background, Prime Minister Mohammed Ali Bogra’s performance at the Bandung Conference in 1955 came as a surprise. Earlier criticized by Chinese Prime Minister Zhou Enlai for propagating pro-Western views,13 he made friends with his Chinese counterpart, differentiating between Soviet and Chinese policy.14 In private conversations, which Zhou made public already during the conference, Bogra assured the former that his country did not pursue any anti-Chinese policy and would not participate in an attack against China.15 Accordingly, when Zhou visited Pakistan in December 1956, both sides stated that they had ‘no real conflict of interests’.16 As a consequence, Prime Minister Huseyn Shaheed Suhrawardy told parliament that he felt ‘perfectly certain that when the crucial time comes China will come to our assistance’,17 which had to be understood as a hint towards India. Those overtures, however, remained inconsequential as both parties were preoccupied with other matters thereafter. Whereas Beijing let the issue of negotiating and demarcating its southern border drift for its own reasons,18 Pakistan went through a deep domestic crisis. Ayub Khan’s coup d’état on 27 October 1958 stabilized Pakistan, but also stood for a pronounced pro-Western course in foreign policy. Trained at Sandhurst and having served in the British Indian Army, the field marshal quickly became something like the West’s favourite ‘benevolent’ dictator. He won sympathies at home and abroad for a successful programme of industrialization, supported financially mostly by the United States and the Aid Pakistan Consortium. Steady economic growth rates made the country a showpiece for development along ‘Western’ lines. Out of gratitude, pursuing national interest and also due his personal convictions, his foreign policy was more pronounced anti-communist than those of his predecessors.

Chinese threat? When the world after the outbreak of the Tibetan uprising became aware of intense Sino-Indian tensions, Ayub on 24 April 1959 suggested to

Pakistan and 1962 127 Nehru a joint front against the communist threat from the north.19 This was exactly what Washington had hoped for since the Chinese occupation of Tibet,20 but it came with a price Delhi was not willing to pay. Ayub’s precondition for close cooperation was a settlement in Kashmir favouring Pakistan, India remaining adamant not to give in.21 Evidence suggests that Islamabad was trying to profit from Delhi’s dilemma, the Indian military not being in shape to reach, let alone defend the claim line in Ladakh. On the contrary, according to the British Defence Coordination Committee, ­Pakistani forces were more than capable to contain any Chinese military threat which, however, was seen as hardly existent.22 Besides, Ayub found those areas where C ­ hinese and Pakistan claims clashed not worth a war,23 and Pakistan, of course, would not have fought for India’s claims. Even in the case of P ­ ortugal’s South Asian possessions, a little more than a decade after independence neither the Government of Pakistan nor the public had any sympathies with India’s attempts to bring colonial rule on the subcontinent to an end.24 On the other hand, Chinese forces in 1958 had removed Pakistani border demarcation stones and established a post in Hunza.25 The Mirs of Hunza had traditionally recognized Chinese suzerainty and fled to China when the British took control over their territory in 1891. Only in 1947, the current Mir had opted in favour of Pakistan.26 To make the matter even more complicated, India, unlike Pakistan, regarded Hunza as part of the former princely state of Kashmir, whose maharaja had opted for India. When Zhou stated in January 1959 that China regarded its southern border as a whole open to dispute,27 this implicitly affected Pakistan as well. Accordingly, Chinese maps since long differed from Pakistani ones regarding the border areas,28 though this became public only in 1959. In October 1959, the Dawn reported Chinese intrusions along the border,29 which had sporadically taken place since 1953.30 Ayub publicly declared Pakistan’s readiness to defend its borders and, even more, ‘complete understanding between India and Pakistan in the wake of danger developing on the northern and north-western frontiers of the subcontinent’.31 Islamabad tried both to assure American backing and to come to terms with Beijing. On the one hand, on 21 October it voted in favour of Resolution 1353/XIV in the UN General Assembly, calling to respect human rights for Tibetans and their right to enjoy their cultural and religious life.32 Moreover, Ayub spoke of an ‘occupation of Tibet’ and of a Chinese threat.33 On the other hand, towards the end of 1959, he also offered China to negotiate on the border. He met with no response for the time being,34 maybe because Pakistan was not willing to discuss the border of disputed Azad Kashmir, but only of Gilgit and Hunza,35 which, in Islamabad’s eyes, both had acceded to Pakistan independently from the princely state of Kashmir.

128  Amit R. Das Gupta In 1959 and 1960, Washington reconfirmed its commitment, first of all with a bilateral security agreement on 5 March 1959. Again, however, it was interpreted in different ways. While the United States committed itself to help in case of a communist aggression, Pakistan read it as a security guarantee against an Indian attack.36 Moreover, for the very first time Islamabad understood that the alliance with Washington came with a price. In May 1960, a U-2 spy plane, which had started from Badaber in Pakistan, was shot down over the Soviet Union, with Khrushchev threatening to attack any country offering bases for such flights.37 On the other hand, by late 1960 the Kashmir dispute seemed to be off the table for the foreseeable future. The Indus Water Treaty from 9 September 1960 took care for a mutually agreed distribution of water provided by the six rivers flowing through Kashmir. As it was sponsored by the World Bank and those Western donors who already participated in the development consortia it came close to an international guarantee for the actual line of control. Without this implicit agreement, the heavy investments into the construction of dams and related installations would not have made sense. Washington had taken the lead in the negotiations. Pakistan, thus, had its back free. The year 1960, however, was characterized by a lull regarding the Sino-Pakistani border, China in vain trying to settle the corresponding dispute with India.38 Islamabad in the meantime requested more US arms39 and again signalled its willingness to come to terms with Beijing. Both Pakistan and China abstained from hostile propaganda against each other, noticeable even after the U-2 incident.40 When in September 1960 Nehru visited Pakistan, he discussed the border dispute, allegedly ‘not . . . unduly disturbed about the prospect of talks between China and Pakistan’.41 In October, Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, the young minister for Water and Power, Communications and Industry, who would become the face of rapprochement with China, in the UN refused to vote in favour of a postponement of China’s admission.42 A month later, the cabinet discussed foreign policy options, criticizing that the United States had ‘not found it possible for their own reasons to give us political support in our dispute with India. . . . We have to fend for ourselves in this field. . . . This, in turn means, that we should not adopt rigid postures towards Russia or China’.43 In December, Pakistan again proposed to China to demarcate the boundary.44

Sino-Pakistani border negotiations On 15 January 1961, Foreign Minister Manzur Qadir announced China’s readiness to negotiate.45 Acting Foreign Secretary Murshed informed the British High Commission that whereas Beijing ‘wanted demarcation

Pakistan and 1962 129 of the entire border with Pakistan, Pakistanis were concerned only with the 150-mile border between China and Hunza. Pakistanis considered that the remainder of the border lay in territory which was sub judice’.46 By ­February, Ayub appeared to have changed his mind, declaring his readiness to hold talks about the border as a whole as ‘Pakistan was “very much in legal occupation of the territory which runs along China” and had every right to hold talks with that country on border demarcation’, thereby repudiating Nehru’s statement that India would not accept any such decision.47 In March, Finance Minister Mohamed Shoaib, the first member of cabinet to visit Washington after the inauguration of President John F. Kennedy, told his hosts that his government concluded that the Chinese ‘were prepared to reach a settlement, if only to bring pressure on India (he laughed). He said that the ChiComs [Chinese Communists] would say that they were able to reach an agreement on their border with Burma, Nepal, and ­Pakistan and that the Indians were at fault not agreeing also’.48 A few weeks later, Ayub confirmed to US Ambassador W. Averell Harriman that his government had taken ‘some steps to “normalize” Pakistan’s relations with China and the USSR’, assuring his counterpart that the United States could further count on his country ‘as true friend and ally’. He wanted to ‘avoid trouble with China’ without embarrassing India. Shoaib confirmed that Pakistan was keen to discuss the border as a whole, not only in Hunza.49 In notable contrast to India, the Pakistani government held that notwithstanding attempts during the Raj the border ‘continued to remain undefined’. Expressing gratefulness for US aid and arms, it, however, also emphasized ‘that the West has offered little political assistance to ­Pakistan’.50 This was a reference to the Kashmir dispute and a hint that Islamabad had more options than exclusive cooperation with the United States. Within the Ministry of External Affairs, a cell was formed to research the border question, and survey parties were sent into the mountains, whereas Beijing remained silent.51 Further developments throughout 1961 remain unknown. The narrative in Ayub’s memoirs, uncritically taken over by most scholars, in any case does not make sense against the documentary evidence provided above. Allegedly when towards the end of the year Chinese Ambassador to Pakistan Ding Guoyu asked for support for his country’s membership in the UN, the president made this dependent on negotiations on border demarcation – on which both sides had agreed eleven months ago. According to Ayub general agreement had been reached by D ­ ecember 1961.52 Most likely this was the outcome of informal talks throughout the year, which had been kept secret from Washington above all. Kennedy had distinguished himself as a friend of India, and the pro-Indian leanings among his staff were well known. Pakistan needed to reassure the confidence of the new US administration. Visiting Washington in July 1961,

130  Amit R. Das Gupta Ayub won the sympathies of Kennedy together with the assurance that ‘there was no intention now to give India military aid. If there should be a change in US policy, President Kennedy would talk with President Ayub first’.53 Only in December, when the new Sino-Pakistani understanding emerged, Pakistan once again supported China’s admission to the UN after an interruption for a number of years.54 On 3 May 1962, China and Pakistan in a joint communiqué announced that they had agreed to negotiate the location of the boundary, adding that any agreement would be provisional pending a final settlement of the Kashmir dispute.55 That Beijing had no intention to meddle in the latter and – unlike Delhi – did not consider the whole of Kashmir under Indian de jure sovereignty had been made clear in 1960.56 Naturally, Foreign Secretary Samiullah Khan Dehlavi emphasized that China took a stand towards the Kashmir dispute diametrically opposed to the Soviet Union, which supported India since 1955.57 Whereas Pakistan had earlier protested against India negotiating the borders of Kashmir with China,58 it now did so itself. The timing of the announcement served both sides as it coincided with the UN debate on Kashmir, what Dehlavi considered a diplomatic coup to put pressure on India.59 In a conversation with Lord Selkirk, British Commissioner General for Southeast Asia, Ayub held that Beijing’s interest in an agreement with Pakistan was based on ‘China’s desire to demoralize India and to show her up as a weak and inefficient country’ in order to ‘reduce India’s attractiveness to the rest of Asia as a possible rival and competitor of Chinese communism’. Furthermore, China considered India a base for the resistance in Tibet.60 The bilateral talks taken up shortly after the announcement revealed great differences and immediately got stuck.61 According to Aga Shahi, in charge of the China section of Pakistan’s foreign ministry, a study of available records showed that neither side had any strong legal or historical base for its claims. The Chinese later admitted to him that their own investigations had led to the same result. Shahi’s suggestion to seek a frontier along the Karakorum watershed – the watershed principle repudiated by Beijing vis-à-vis India – plus an additional 500 square miles traditionally used by the Hunza people won approval first by his own government, the Shimshal and Opran valleys. After bilateral talks had been reopened on 12 October, both sides announced complete agreement along Shahi’s line on 26 December.62 Zhou – again according to Shahi – even suggested a non-aggression pact.63 True or not, the Pakistani government was aware that rumours about such a pact served the country’s security interests.64 On 2 March 1963, foreign ministers Bhutto and Chen Yi signed the Pakistan-China Border Agreement.65 Apart from considerations discussed below, both sides negotiated along lines differing from those pursued in Sino-Indian talks. Pakistan

Pakistan and 1962 131 declared the border as undefined, whereas China accepted that the watershed principle and custom were overriding considerations. The timing of negotiations and its conclusion together with the content of the agreement deserve closer consideration. China had taken up Ayub’s offer to negotiate the border rather late – only after the failure of the attempts to reach a settlement with India in 1960. The announcement of bilateral talks in March 1962 and their resumption immediately before the attack on India in October certainly fitted in Beijing’s schemes showing India as the one stubborn neighbour not willing to accept a fair compromise whereas Burma, Nepal and finally Pakistan had signed or were in signing border agreements all to their benefit.66 Informing the public that shortly after the cessation of hostilities Beijing and Islamabad quickly and easily had come to terms right before the opening of the first round of Indo-Pakistani Kashmir talks from 27 to 29 December emphasized this point of view. Pakistan’s motives appear to be obvious. First of all ­Islamabad could hardly afford another territorial dispute; those with A ­ fghanistan and India remain unsettled until today. Pakistan got the minor part of the disputed territory, but more than it had ever controlled. This was a unique opportunity not to be passed.67 China gained the larger portion, but accepted Pakistani suggestions.68 Nehru’s allegations that ­Islamabad had made major territorial concessions, therefore, have justly been termed as lacking substance.69 On top of it any diplomatic move irritating hostile India was welcome. It is obvious, however, that the announcement of a Sino-Pakistani consensus right after the border war was not prone to increase Indian willingness to give up parts of Jammu and Kashmir, if there was any willingness at all. Whereas the events gave Pakistan a secure border in the north while acquiring another enemy of India as a potential partner, they obstructed the solution of the country’s most burning problem. When the US Ambassador Walter P. McConaughy asked Ayub straight away whether he ‘did not think Chinese had every motive for wrecking Indo/ Pakistan talks’, the president replied that ‘he did not look at matter in this light’, although admitting that ‘the Chinese wanted to see both India and Pakistan off-balance’.70 Islamabad had consciously started a tightrope walk between Beijing and Washington. According to press reports, the Pakistani government in May 1962 had adopted a new foreign policy formula: ‘Each equation would be determined by the limits of tolerance of the third party, taking national interests of Pakistan as the dominating factor.’71 Given the timing and the provocative anti-Indian statements when announcing the agreement on 26/27 December while an Indian delegation under Foreign Minister Swaran Singh had come to Pakistan for Kashmir talks,72 it seems that Pakistan had given up hopes to gain essential parts of Kashmir via negotiations.

132  Amit R. Das Gupta

Disappointment about the United States The Sino-Indian border war caused massive Pakistani disappointment about US policy towards South Asia. A few days after the PLA had launched its attack, Deputy National Security Advisor Carl Kaysen convinced Kennedy, first, to help India ‘on a military assistance basis if they ask for it’ instead of cash sales. Second, he wanted Ayub to ‘make a significant gesture; for example, breaking off in a public way his own negotiations with the Chinese about the border’.73 When McConaughy took up the second issue with the Pakistani president the following day, he emphasized the ‘identity of interest of both great countries of subcontinent in repelling common threat’ and suggested ‘to send to Nehru, publicly or privately, some expression of sympathy, assurance against any GOP [Government of Pakistan] diversionary move and understanding of dangerous situation faced by GOI [Government of India]. I particularly stressed our view that an action by GOP to renounce opportunity to capitalize on present situation would be in its own interest in making GOI more tractable and flexible in later bilateral negotiations’. Ayub assured the ambassador ‘somewhat testily that his government of course had not taken and would not take any action which hamper GOI fight against Chinese Communists’, but rejected a message to Nehru. According to him, India was aware that its large concentrations of troops at the Pakistani borders were not necessary, while their deployment towards the north, however, would also make no difference in the ongoing war. Moreover, he did not believe that China intended a ‘major thrust far beyond McMahon Line into India proper or a challenge at this time to fundamental security of India’. He found India itself responsible for the crisis, having issued provocative statements ‘and then proving totally incapable of handling subsequent military actions’. Finally, he suggested the United States to convince India to accept a settlement of the Kashmir dispute.74 Had Ayub been upset about demands not to make use of India’s miserable situation, he was ‘deeply offended’75 when Kennedy – against earlier assurances without consulting Pakistan’s president first – merely informed him that the United States would deliver arms to India. The value of assurances ‘that whatever help we give will be used only against the Chinese’76 were only too well known in Islamabad, which – as Delhi had been told repeatedly – had received US weapons to be used exclusively against a communist aggression. Like Kennedy in his message to Ayub, the State Department asked McConaughy to ‘reiterate our view that Sino-Indian border conflict is second in importance only to Cuba in present global confrontation between the Free World and the Sino-Soviet Bloc. We expect our Allies in both areas will do all they can to meet the Communist challenge’. Once again it suggested to Ayub the dispatch of a message to Nehru, an

Pakistan and 1962 133 adjournment of the border talks with China and – finally – ‘guidance to Pak press for positive approach’.77 In a conversation with McConaughy, the Pakistani president ‘complained with obvious personal hurt regarding our pressures on him to make gesture to India. He said patience of Pakistani people who friends of US not beyond limit and they interpreted request for gesture as demonstration US not sympathetic with, nor understanding of Pakistan position and essential interests’. Ayub clearly felt having been let down by the United States, but admitted that Chinese military advances were a ‘matter of great concern of Pakistan and U.S.’. Besides, he stated that Pakistan had no intentions ‘to precipitate military action against India’.78 In return, McConaughy handed over an aide-memoire in which ‘the Government of the United States of America reaffirms its previous assurances to the Government of Pakistan that it will come to Pakistan’s assistance in the event of aggression from India against Pakistan’.79 According to Pakistani wishes, the State Department also issued a public statement, which, however, only held that those arms delivered to India would be used exclusively against China.80

Indo-Pakistani Kashmir talks In his rather harsh reply to Kennedy, Ayub held that the only real solution of the subcontinent’s security problems ‘lies in creating a situation whereby we are free from the Indian threat, and the Indians are free from any apprehensions about us. This can only be done if there is a settlement of the question of Kashmir.’81 The US president took up the hint and – together with British Prime Minister Harold Macmillan – pushed Nehru – in exchange for Western arms – to agree to Kashmir talks. Nevertheless, ‘Kennedy could no longer disregard a basic US-Pakistan difference about what the alliances meant’ and demanded that Pakistan realized that the rapprochement with China must not go too far.82 Linking military aid to concessions in Kashmir met with scepticism, particularly by US Ambassador to India John Kenneth Galbraith, who saw all the goodwill Anglo-American immediate willingness to help Delhi in its darkest hour gambled away for vague hopes for an ultimate Indo-Pakistani settlement.83 The driving force, accordingly, turned out to be British Minister for the Commonwealth Duncan Sandys, who brushed aside Indian sensitivities.84 Whether Pakistan saw any realistic chance to come to terms with India regarding Kashmir is doubtful. It is hard to imagine a moment when Delhi was less willing to agree to more than minor amendments, above all handing over the very bone of content, the Kashmir valley. Having ultimately lost Aksai Chin and suffered a humiliating defeat, Nehru certainly could not afford to give away even more territory, particularly in Kashmir where

134  Amit R. Das Gupta the Indian Army had successfully fought Pakistani forces between 1947 and 1949. Moreover, during the five rounds of talks, India was gaining a position stronger than before the war. Both superpowers – the United States openly, and the Soviet Union implicitly and with some delay85 – declared their support for India vis-à-vis renewed Chinese attacks. This constellation, which has aptly described as ‘double aligned’,86 allowed India not to become dependent on one superpower. Thanks to Egyptian and Yugoslav efforts, India maintained its non-aligned status among the Afro-Asian countries.87 Had the South Asian giant found itself mostly isolated in October 1962, by May 1963 it enjoyed multiple international support. Moreover, Delhi had started a massive armament programme, focusing on equipment for mountain warfare and the air force, which both were useful in a confrontation with Pakistan in Kashmir, too. Thanks to this superpower support, India received sophisticated weapon systems including the supersonic MiG-21 fighter jet. Had the Indian compared to P ­ akistani forces been mostly superior in terms of numbers before late 1962, the smaller of the South Asian antagonist was in losing the advantage derived from modern American arms. In this context, it comes as no surprise that, by 16 May 1963, five rounds of Kashmir talks ended nowhere.88 Among the losers of spring 1963 were London and Washington as their relationships with both Delhi and Islamabad turned to the worse.89 India was not willing either to further cease territory or to admit a radio transmitter of the Voice of America in exchange for rather limited Western military aid.90 The Anglo-American attempts even caused it to move closer to the Soviet Union, which had kept mostly neutral during the war. Moreover, Pakistan had good reasons to feel betrayed. When the worst had come to the worst, its non-aligned neighbour had clearly been considered more relevant than America’s ‘most allied ally’. Pakistan naturally considered such arms deliveries as further strengthening a hostile neighbour which had kept the bulk of its forces at the Indo-Pakistani border in the West even when the PLA seemed to break through to the plains of Assam. As demanded by Kennedy Pakistan, which probably was equally surprised about the Chinese blitzkrieg, had not made use of India’s miserable situation but eventually was not ‘rewarded’ with anything. On the contrary, shortly after the war India – notwithstanding the lasting shock and humiliation – rose rather like phoenix from the ashes with a stronger standing in international affairs and an American–Soviet-sponsored armament programme. In Pakistani eyes, the border war and its aftermath had provided a litmus test for the value of the alliance with the United States, and the outcome could hardly have been more disappointing. Washington pursued a policy of preserving the status quo in South Asia, which the have-not Pakistan had never been willing to accept. The power that enforced borders and cut India to size was

Pakistan and 1962 135 China, which had not only settled the Sino-Pakistani border to the latter’s benefit but also stretched out a hand of friendship.

Aftermath: two more Indo-Pakistani Wars The disillusionment from 1962/63 resulted in a general reorientation of Pakistani foreign policy, with China being considered the closest ally with parallel national interest vis-à-vis India, and the United States perceived as not fully reliable. Islamabad’s dependence on American aid and arms supplies together with the pro-Western leanings of Ayub, however, left the door open. Nevertheless, US-Pakistan relations hit rock bottom in 1965, when Islamabad tried to win by force what it had failed to obtain in negotiations. Considering Nehru’s successor Lal Bahadur Shastri to be a weak prime minister, Pakistan’s military saw the window of opportunity closing when its more sophisticated equipment was believed to counterbalance Indian superiority in numbers. In August 1965, Islamabad tried to impress on the world that there was an indigenous uprising in Indian Jammu and Kashmir, with the insurgents calling Pakistan to help. The pattern was the same as in October 1947 when Pakistan actually had infiltrated armed personnel into Kashmir, with the intruders failing to win much support among the locals. When India, disadvantaged by Kashmiri topography, decided to strike back across the international border in the Punjab, Pakistan tried to portray itself as a victim of an unprovoked attack – a claim that failed to convince the rest of the world including Washington. Kennedy had assured Ayub to intervene in case of an Indian attack, but his successor Lyndon B. Johnson saw Pakistan as the actual aggressor.91 The American arms embargo imposed against both combatants hit Pakistan much harder, which lacked another supplier, whereas India could rely on ongoing Soviet arms deliveries. ­Militarily the short war had no winner, but Indian forces – unlike 1962 – had not only stood their ground, but occupied some ­Pakistani territory which helped to restore national self-confidence. Whereas the United States remained strictly neutral and asked other powers to follow suit, thereby ultimately losing Pakistani sympathies, China, under combined American and Soviet pressure,92 resorted to allegations and an inconsequential ultimatum about India’s supposed violation of the Sino-Indian line of control in Sikkim, both of which did not influence the war at all. Beijing, however, became Pakistan’s main arms supplier, as it did not, unlike the United States, impose any restrictions out of consideration for India. On the contrary, Washington even after the war continued to refuse the delivery of arms or spare parts. From 1969 with the Nixon administration Washington took a more favourable stand towards Pakistan, also because it relied on Islamabad’s services for arranging secret

136  Amit R. Das Gupta Sino-American talks. In 1970, the United States gave Pakistan a one-time exception to procure arms worth US$ 50 million.93 When in March 1971 the Pakistani army seized control in the eastern wing of the country, committing horrible atrocities and driving 10 million refugees into India, the United States remained quiet. But it also did not actively help its ally when the short Indo-Pakistani War in December resulted in the creation of ­Bangladesh. Sending the 7th fleet into the Gulf of Bengal was a belated and useless gesture, merely irritating India.94 China, having ‘no desire, from the outset, to become embroiled in the East Pakistan crisis’,95 left it with threats and let Pakistan lose the war alone. Whereas the latter felt let down by the United States once again, the axis Islamabad–Beijing did not suffer from reiterated Chinese passivity.

Conclusion The Sino-Indian border war marks a turning point in Pakistani foreign policy. Had the country’s in general pro-Western elites believed that the alliance with the United States would bring gains in terms of modern armament and combined pressure on India, the events of October and ­November 1962 brought home the lesson that India ultimately ranked higher in US appreciation. Whereas Pakistan’s interests were of exclusively regional nature – that is, limiting Delhi’s influence and therefore cooperating with the foe’s foes whatever the latter’s policy otherwise – Washington in the context of the global Cold War could not allow the main Asian democratic counterweight to communist China to be permanently weakened. If the Kennedy administration had still believed that an Indo-Pakistani rapprochement through a Kashmir settlement had offered the prospect of a joint anti-Chinese front in South Asia, it might have been more actively involved in the Kashmir talks of 1963. Islamabad, however, departed from the line of Washington’s strategy in Asia by negotiating and then signing a border agreement with Beijing at a time when it hurt Delhi most. Shortly after it had become America’s ally in 1954, Pakistan’s elites had already started toying with the Nehruvian idea of not putting all eggs in one basket. Both Islamabad and Beijing took their time to seek rapprochement – both for their own reasons. It was the emerging Sino-Indian conflict that accelerated the process. Being offered favourable terms and proving to be much more flexible than India, Pakistan quickly settled the border with China at a juncture when it suited Chinese interests most. Had the setting of the final round of talks immediately before the outbreak of the border war hardly been of Islamabad’s choosing, the announcement of the agreement right before the opening of Kashmir talks had to be understood as a signal towards Delhi that Pakistan had found a powerful

Pakistan and 1962 137 partner. Overplaying its cards, however, the negotiations ended without any results. In the meantime, India had not only stabilized its position in international affairs thanks to the support it received from the superpowers and non-aligned friends, but also started a massive rearmament programme that turned out to the detriment of Pakistan. As gaining essential parts of Kashmir became less and less unlikely, the latter resorted to a rather desperate attempt to cease it by force in 1965. The US-Pakistan alliance never fully recovered from the mutual disappointment of 1962/63, and the events in 1965 and 1971 only deepened the mutual alienation. Nevertheless, both sides found it useful not to end cooperation. Whereas Washington kept a foothold in Pakistan for mostly geostrategic reasons, Islamabad appreciated American aid and occasional arms deliveries. From a realist’s point of view it is rather surprising that, in parallel, the informal alliance with China became the cornerstone of Pakistan’s foreign policy. Beijing had been generous in the border agreement, but thereafter gave not much more than symbolic support in either of the Indo-Pakistani Wars. One can hardly write of ‘invaluable assistance’, as Samuel Burke has done.96 Unrestricted Chinese arms deliveries certainly were welcome, but their quality was not prone to offer Pakistan’s forces superiority vis-à-vis India as US arms were believed to have done. In the long run, however, the axis has offered Pakistan invaluable benefits. Apart from economic gains, it has kept India barred from access to Central Asia, relevant both during the Cold War and after. Moreover, Pakistan’s nuclear programme to no small extent has received help from China, ensuring, through trilateral mutual nuclear deterrence, that borders in South Asia have become de facto unchangeable.

Notes 1 Mohammad Ayub Khan, Friends Not Masters: A Political Autobiography, London: Oxford University Press, 1967. 2 Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India: A Strategic History of the Nehru Years, New Delhi: Permanent Black, 2010, pp. 181–2. 3 Raghavan, War and Peace, pp. 185–7. 4 Shirin Tahir-Kheli, The United States and Pakistan: The Evolution of an Influence Relationship, New York: Council on Foreign Relations Press, 1982, p. 2. 5 Golam Wahed Choudhury, India, Pakistan, Bangladesh and the Major Powers: Politics of a Divided Subcontinent, New York: Free Press, 1975, p. 122. 6 Khan, Friends Not Masters, p. 130. 7 Dennis Kux, Disenchanted Allies: The United States and Pakistan 1947–2000, Baltimore: Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2001, pp. 61–2. 8 Amit Das Gupta, ‘South Asia and Superpower Competition 1954 to 1972’, Asian Affairs, 26(4), (October–December 2004), pp. 17–18.

138  Amit R. Das Gupta 9 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, pp. 84–5. 10 ‘Speech of Foreign Minister Zafrullah Khan’, 25 September 1950, Rajendra Kumar Jain, ed., China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, New Delhi: Radiant Publishers, 1981, p. 5. 11 Werner Levi, ‘Pakistan, the Soviet Union and China’, Pacific Affairs, 35, (1962), pp. 213–5. 12 ‘Miscellaneous’, The Hindu, 12 December 1955. 13 S.M. Burke and Lawrence Ziring, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy, Karachi: Oxford University Press, 2nd edition, p. 214. 14 G.H. Jansen, Nonalignment and the Afro-Asian States, New York: F ­ rederick A. Praeger, 1966, pp. 204–5. 15 Statement Zhou Enlai in the Political committee of the Bandung conference, 23 April 1955, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, pp. 8–9. 16 ‘Joint Statement’, 24 December 1956, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, pp. 12–13. 17 Quoted after S.M. Burke, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy: An Historical Analysis, London: Oxford University Press, 1973, p. 215. 18 See chapter by Dai Chaowu. 19 Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru, 2nd series, vol. 49, p. 525, footnote 3. 20 Das Gupta, ‘South Asia and Superpower Competition 1954 to 1972’, pp. 17–21. 21 Sarvepalli Gopal, Jawaharlal Nehru. A Biography, vol. 3, New Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1984, pp. 91–2. 22 National Archives of the United Kingdom (NAUK), Defence Ministry, 5/106, ‘The military threat to India and Pakistan from Communist China up to 1964’, 16 August 1960. 23 NAUK, Dominions Office (DO) 35/8925, ‘Telegram no. 226’, 28 October 1959, High Commission Karachi, document forwarded by Lorenz Lüthi. 24 Subimal Dutt Diary 9, 2 September 1955. 25 NAUK, Foreign Office (FO) 371/133389, ‘Report by British Military Advisor’, 4 June 1958, Brigadier B. Kingzett. 26 Andrew Small, The China-Pakistan Axis: Asia’s New Geopolitics, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015, p. 21. 27 ‘Letter Zhou to Prime Minister Nehru’, 23 January 1959, Ministry of External Affairs, White Paper: Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China, 1954–1959, Delhi, 1959. 28 ‘Memorandum from Assistant Secretary of State for Near Eastern and South Affairs (Jones) to the Deputy Under Secretary of State for Political Affairs (Hare)’, 2 December 1960, FRUS, vol. XV, South and South Asia, doc. 393, pp. 819–20. 29 Gurnam Singh, Sino-Pakistan Relations: The Ayub Era, Amritsar: Guru Nanak Dev University Press, 1987, p. 66. 30 Small, China-Pakistan Axis, p. 21. 31 Quoted after Singh, Sino-Pakistan Relations, p. 67. 32 ‘Statement by the Representative of Pakistan’, 20 October 1959, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, pp. 22–3. 33 ‘Interview Ayub Khan with Kayhan International’, 9 November 1959, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, p. 23. 34 Khan, Friends Not Masters, pp. 161–2. 35 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Sino-Pakistani Border Discussions’, no date; all documents from this file forwarded by Lorenz Lüthi.

Pakistan and 1962 139 36 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, p. 102. 37 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, pp. 112–13. 38 See chapters by Amit R. Das Gupta and Dai Chaowu. 39 ‘Memorandum of Conversation’, 2 June 1960, FRUS, vol. XV, South and South Asia, doc. 389, pp. 813–14. 40 Singh, Sino-Pakistan Relations, p. 72. 41 ‘Telegram from the Embassy in Pakistan to the Department of State’, 22 March 1961, Rountree, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 11, pp. 26–30. 42 Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, New Directions, London: Namara Publications, 1980, pp. 118–21. 43 ‘Decisions reached at a special Pakistani cabinet meeting’, 18 Novem ber 1960, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, p. 26. 44 Singh, Sino-Pakistan Relations, p. 72. 45 K. Sarwar Hasan, ed., China, India, Pakistan: Documents on the Foreign Relations of Pakistan, Karachi: Pakistan Institute of International Affairs, 1966, p. 365. 46 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Confidential telegram no. 159’, 23 January 1961, High Commission Karachi. 47 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Telegram no. 293’, 17 February 1961, High Commission Karachi. 48 ‘Memorandum of Conversation’, 7 March 1961, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 8, pp. 16–24. 49 ‘Telegram from the Embassy in Pakistan to the Department of State’, 22 March 1961, William M. Rountree, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 11, pp. 26–30. 50 Civil and Military Gazette, Lahore, 11 March 1961, Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, pp. 26–7. 51 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Confidential report no. 156/6/1 from the High Commission Karachi’, 12 May 1961, A.A. Goldis. 52 Khan, Friends Not Masters, p. 162. 53 ‘Memorandum of Conversation’, 11 July 1961, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 30, pp. 66–74. 54 United Nations, General Assembly Official Records, XVI. Session, vol. 2, 11 December 1961, p. 986. 55 ‘Sino-Pakistani Agreement on Boundary negotiations’, Hasan, China, India, Pakistan, p. 366. 56 Report of the Officials of the Government of India and the People’s Republic of China on the Boundary Question, MEA, Government of India, 1961, p. 18. 57 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Confidential note of a talk on 6 May 1962’, 12 May 1962, High Commission Karachi. 58 United Nations Security Council, S/4242, 3 December 1959. Letter from the Permanent Representative of Pakistan to the President of the Security Council, http://repository.un.org/bitstream/handle/11176/83104/ S_4242-EN.pdf?sequence=1&isAllowed=y, accessed 1 May 2016. 59 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Confidential telegram no. 563’, 12 May 1962, High Commission Karachi. 60 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Confidential note of a talk on 7 May 1962’, 11 May 1962, High Commissioner Karachi. 61 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, p. 126. 62 Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, p. 31. 63 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, pp. 136–7.

140  Amit R. Das Gupta 64 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Note of conversation with Foreign Minister Mohammed Ali on 30 November’, 11 December 1961, High Commissioner Karachi. 65 For the text see Jain, China-South Asia Relations, vol. 2, pp. 33–7. 66 See chapters by Eric Hyer and Dai Chaowu. 67 Abdul Sattar, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy 1947–2012: A Concise History, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 3rd edition, 2013, p. 79. 68 M. Taylor Fravel, Strong Borders – Secure Nation: Cooperation and Conflict in China’s Territorial Disputes, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, p. 116. 69 B.N. Goswami, Pakistan and China: A Study of Their Relations, Bombay: Allied Publishers, 1971, p. 90. 70 Conversation mentioned in NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Report no. 88’, 27 December 1962. 71 Goswami, Pakistan and China, p. 79. 72 NAUK, DO, 196/130, ‘Immediate, confidential telegram no. 92’, 29 December 1962, High Commissioner Karachi. 73 FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 181, pp. 351–2; for the following also see chapter by Paul McGarr. 74 ‘Telegram McConaughy to the Department of State’, 27 October 1962, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 183, pp. 353–5. 75 ‘Statement by Ambassador McConaughy’, quoted in Morrice James, Pakistan Chronicle, Karachi: Oxford University Press, 1993, pp. 81–2. 76 ‘Telegram to the U.S. Embassy in Pakistan, 28 October 1962, Rusk, forwarding President Kennedy’s message to President Ayub Khan’, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 186, pp. 358–9. 77 ‘Telegram to the U.S. Embassy in Pakistan’, 27 October 1962, Rusk, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 184, pp. 355–6. 78 ‘Telegram to the Department of State’, 5 November 1962, pp. 369–73, McConaughy, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 191. 79 Ibid., footnote 6. 80 ‘U.S. extends Military Aid to India’, Press release dated 17 November 1972, Department of State Bulletin, (1223), (3 December 1962), pp. 837–8. 81 Letter in ‘Telegram to the Embassy in Pakistan’, 13 November 1962, Rusk, FRUS, vol. XIX, South Asia, doc. 195, pp. 377–80. 82 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, p. 134. 83 Paul McGarr, The Cold War in South Asia: Britain, the United States and the Indian Subcontinent, 1945–1965, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013, p. 175. 84 McGarr, Cold War, pp. 193–5. 85 See chapters by Andreas Hilger and Paul McGarr. 86 William J. Barnds, India, Pakistan and the Great Powers, London: Pall Mall, 1972, p. 182. ˇ avoški. 87 See chapter by Jovan C 88 See chapter by Paul McGarr. 89 McGarr, Cold War, p. 184. 90 Dennis Kux, Estranged Democracies: India and the United States 1941–1991, New Delhi: Sage, 1993, p. 215. 91 Kux, Disenchanted Allies, pp. 159–62. 92 Burke, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy, p. 340.

Pakistan and 1962 141 93 Srinath Raghavan, 1971: A Global History of the Creation of Bangladesh, New Delhi: Permanent Black, 2013, p. 84. 94 Kux, Estranged Democracies, p. 342. 95 Raghavan, 1971, p. 185. 96 Burke, Pakistan’s Foreign Policy, p. 348.

7 The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 Andreas Hilger

In the face of the massive Chinese attacks that started in October 1962, Moscow appeared confused. Nevertheless, the Soviet leadership had much time at its disposal beforehand to prepare for a potential conflict at the Sino-Indian border. The year 1959, with intensive Sino-Indian exchanges as well as with bloody skirmishes, had revealed that Soviet-Indian cooperation was hardly compatible with unqualified Soviet-Chinese friendship. Thus, the Soviet activities in 1962 were more than just desperate attempts to react to dramatic parallel developments on Cuba and at the Sino-Indian border. In fact, Moscow’s approach to the war displayed basic problems and contradictions of Soviet multidimensional international policies towards the dynamic, interconnected processes of decolonization, the global cold war and the embedded emergence of inner-socialist rivalries since the 1940s.1 Therefore, to analyse Soviet policy during the Sino-Indian border war and its immediate aftermath, one has to start with a brief overview of the basic characteristics of Soviet relations with the quarrelling Asian states. Facing these essential problems led to specific Soviet evaluations of Sino-Indian strains and their culmination in autumn 1962. At least with regard to the border war, the available historiography tends to focus on the Sino-Soviet side of the triangle. It is beyond doubt that the Soviet position not only highlighted Sino-Soviet differences about fundamental questions of socialist internationalism and global strategies, but, at the same time, contributed to the further deteriorating of the relationship between ­Moscow and ­Beijing. In contrast, Moscow’s contemporaneous views on the international positioning and domestic developments of India, which constituted the desired showpiece of a Soviet-defined peaceful competition, are less known. Nonetheless, the inconsistency of Soviet announcements in autumn 1962 clearly reflect Soviet oscillation between Chinese and Indian standpoints and therefore the implicit weight of the Indian factor.2 In the end, historical research has yet to carve out the complex decision-making

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 143 process in Moscow. Unfortunately, this task is still impeded by the problematic archival situation. Russian archives, published source editions and, to a lesser degree, memoirs give invaluable insights into the details of bilateral exchanges and discussions including the important Soviet-Indian MiG-21 deal of August 1962 and its twisted realization.3 The positive aspects of the archival revolutions since the early 1990s notwithstanding, declassification remains incomplete. With respect to the Soviet global player, systematic and full use of depositories of relevant party and state bureaucracies, from the South Asian Division of the Ministry for External Affairs (MID), responsible departments of the State Committee for Economic Relations (GKE˙S) to Central Committee (CC) departments for international and inter-party relations and the CC Chairmanship itself is a desideratum. Nevertheless, the accessible parts reveal sufficient indications of central deliberations and decision-making mechanisms by Soviet functionaries and politicians in 1962. Besides, important additions from private papers of Indian diplomats and the Indian Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) as well as from parallel records of professional observers and contact persons in London, Washington or East Berlin, allow for an appraisal of Soviet activities during the border crisis 1962.4

Sino-Indian estrangement ‘The future of Tibet may become a subject for argument’, Jawaharlal Nehru warned the chief ministers of India’s states as early as 1948.5 In the following years, the latent Sino-Indian differences on Tibet became insolubly interconnected with the question of the line of the bilateral border. The territorial problems and differences about Tibet’s status (and its relations with India) symbolized the fundamental gap between the Indian and the Chinese perceptions of both the process of post-colonial nation building and international affairs. At stake were, apart from diverse ideas about the best development policy, incompatible claims on regional influence, the relationship between (new) Asian states with ‘imperialist powers’ and, in particular, the opportunities and limits of international principles of equality and peaceful co-existence among states with different social systems. In short, since the late 1950s, Beijing regarded developments in Tibet, ­Taiwan, East and South East Asia as the final proof that India’s government had decided to swim in the anti-Chinese, imperialist wake. In the eyes of large parts of the Indian foreign policy establishment, Chinese actions and reactions, within and outside of China and Tibet, seemed more and more to reveal New China’s inclination to follow aggressive and irresponsibly expansive, imperialist policies. The discrepancies escalated in the summer and fall of 1959 into repeated bloody clashes between Indian and Chinese

144  Andreas Hilger border patrols. In view of the serious fundamental differences, Mao Zedong after the Tibetan rebellion and India offering the Dalai Lama asylum consequently expected ‘more fights with Nehru’.6 About three years later, the contradictory stands in international, regional and bilateral questions once again reached the abyss of a violent conflict. The Soviet leadership was compelled to look for an appropriate reaction that would not (further) alienate possible partners in its own global mission.7

Soviet policy in Asia Iosif V. Stalin had no trouble to place Sino-Indian relations into his camp mentality. In principle, he regarded independent India as a bourgeois ally of Anglo-American imperialism and anti-socialism, while Mao’s Beijing was expected to be a supporter of Moscow’s international strategies. Against this background, Stalin enthusiastically supported Chinese policies in Tibet. The Soviet dictator was not disturbed by the thought that Beijing’s modus operandi might undermine or scare away the Nehru government domestically and internationally, respectively. Since the early 1950s, Stalin, who started to test a more flexible exploitation of supposed contradictions within the world capitalist community, was lessening his bellicosity against New Delhi.8 Nevertheless, it was only Nikita S. Khrushchev who, in a complex mixture of domestic power politics, ideological optimism, de-Stalinization and recognition of the impossibility of global military victories of socialism in the atomic age developed a more differentiated approach towards the class enemy. It was less a design than an idea to secure ‘the victory of Socialism all over the world by most minor costs and victims’.9 This vision included attempts to activate the whole socialist camp on the basis of a supposed common spirit. In this basic conception, Moscow desired China to be a reliable partner for Soviet ends.10 Conversely, the Kremlin took the self-will and independence of the emerging Third World into account, although with characteristic (mis-)readings. In general, Khrushchev located the Soviet relationship with Asian and African countries in the general framework of his somewhat erratic peaceful–competitive co-existence with Anglo-American world imperialism. On the international and regional level, the Soviet leadership attempted to capitalize on inevitable discrepancies between young national states and the ‘West’, and, therefore, meticulously noticed any symptom of unwillingness of new national governments to get absorbed by Western-dominated economic or power systems and blocs. Besides, the Union of Socialist Soviet Republics (USSR) considered Third World societies to be a worthwhile object of a socialist offensive by economic, political, cultural, and propaganda means. This multi-faceted combination should, according to the Kremlin’s internal argumentation,

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 145 ‘consolidate our influence on those [neutral] countries, . . . undermine the positions of imperialism, . . . stimulate the national liberation movement, and . . . use all resources and possibilities in favour of the formation of the most advantageous conditions for the maturation of a Socialist revolution there’.11 In this calculation, Moscow granted India a special place as both promising and convincing test case for relations between the socialist and the Third World: the historical victory of socialism in India, along with the corresponding movement into Moscow’s orbit, would prove the ideological conclusiveness as well as political advantages of Moscow’s – Khrushchev’s – foreign policy. Regardless of the subtle theoretical rationalizing, the balancing between inter-state and inter-party relations in practice proved to be extremely difficult, and, in 1964, Khrushchev’s successors would accuse him of having neglected party-solidarity and corresponding ideological aspects in his Third World policy. After India and China seemed to have reached far-reaching mutual understanding in Geneva, Delhi, Beijing, and Bandung in 1954/55, ­Stalin’s successors did not expect the integration of Sino-Indian relations into the newly defined set of Soviet global policies to be problematic – Panchsheel, the Five Principles of Peaceful Coexistence, appeared to be the new magic word to solve any problems and questions of the advance of socialism worldwide. However, by the late 1950s, the Indo-Soviet-Chinese triangle had come under stress. Moscow sensed behind Beijing’s increasing belligerent international posture and hazardous developmental measures challenges by the ‘brother’ state – ideological as well as geopolitical.12 At the same time, the Indian ‘friend’ seemed to be unable or unwilling to comply with Soviet strategic calculations. Instead, the enforced dissolution of the communist state government in Kerala could be read as signal that the Nehru government was not only anxious but able to guard itself against a shift to the left. On the international level, Indian standpoints regarding Taiwan, Yugoslavia or Berlin, underlined that Delhi was not willing to fall in line with the socialist world movement in general. Moscow concluded that Indian ‘progressive’ forces needed to be nurtured carefully.13 In this complex constellation, Sino-Indian frictions with their farreaching implications for inner-socialist and socialist-Third World relations could not but complicate the Kremlin’s juggling. In 1959, while the Soviet leaders must have realized the explosive potential of the Tibet and the border question, they did not undertake serious attempt to defuse it. At first, Moscow’s diplomacy obviously preferred a noncommittal position in order to weather unwelcomed complications and to keep its options open.14 The Sino-Indian clashes at the border, however, were no longer an exclusively internal affair of China or a minor regional aberration. The Kremlin was forced to judge them in the context of its policy of peaceful

146  Andreas Hilger system competition, and with that in the interrelation of its own relations with the United States, in the light of Indian domestic perspectives as well as in connection with alarming shifts towards the right in other countries of the Third World (e.g. Egypt, Thailand and Pakistan). Moreover, in this broader setting, a war between China and India was simply a nuisance. The whole conflict in 1959 was seen as of ‘no use to the whole socialist camp, but only a negative event’, that ‘had undermined the belief of the people of Asia in the possibility of a successful development of relations with the PRC on the basis of the well-known five principles of peaceful coexistence’, had strengthened the rightist forces in India, and, overall, had weakened the socialist camp.15 In the months and years to come, Beijing flatly rejected Soviet lecturing on Sino-Indian relations. From Delhi, Moscow could not expect a profound change of policies towards the socialist neighbours either. Due to the current archival situation in Moscow, it remains unclear – but doubtful – if the USSR was ready to start any substantial mediation effort. At least according to the Indian sources, the Soviet side did not launch serious initiatives. If there were any, they had failed in the summer of 1960 by the latest, when China demonstrated more openly its international and revolutionary independence from the Soviet Union, and when high-level Sino-Indian talks had been to no avail.16 In fact, Moscow continued to play on time. An active foreign trade policy, combined with diplomatic gestures by Moscow and its satellites towards India – like during the Indian ‘liberation’ of Goa in 196117 – were supposed to move on the South Asian country on the appropriate (development) path. This was supposed to help defuse ideologically charged Sino-Indian contradictions and thereby swing decisively Sino-Soviet debates on the correct international strategy in Moscow’s favour. Appeals for a renunciation of violence, which Moscow directed towards both sides, were designed to provide the necessary respite for the Soviet policy of hopeful – one might say: illusionary – restraint.18 Meanwhile, in the early 1960s, Moscow’s ruling circles became increasingly aware of certain miscalculations in their policy towards the Third World. ‘Neutral countries are not neutral’, but ‘frightened by the advance of revolutionary powers . . . against communism’. This was Khrushchev’s disappointed assessment of the correlation of forces in the wake of stormy UN debates (1960), the Congo crisis (1960/1961) and the Berlin crises (1958/1961), and in the face of intensified engagement of the Kennedy administration in South Asia that did explicitly include Nehru’s India.19 Even worse, the domestic constellation in India gave little reason to overoptimistic expectations for fundamental changes in the nearer future: ‘200,000 members and 10 million votes’ in the general elections of 1962, compared with a population of 340 million people, did not constitute a

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 147 ‘particular’ success of the Communist Party of India (CPI), Indian and Soviet comrades agreed.20

War between friends and brothers: Moscow’s twisted diplomacy At that time, the Chinese leadership adopted a set of completely different strategies to win the battle against anti-socialist forces in the world in general and in India in particular. In August 1962, Mao’s radicalism definitely became the accepted line in China’s foreign policy. In general, a militant course was regarded as the best way to underline the Chinese international pioneering task against global imperialism with its ‘reactionary’ or ‘revisionist’ accomplices and to support Beijing’s ambitions in the Third World.21 The combination of China’s radical maximalist programme with Indian rigidity made a vehement clash in the lingering border question more and more unavoidable.22 In Beijing’s reckoning, a short campaign with comparatively minor military risk could serve different political aims: it would provide for a positive solution of the territorial quarrelling and distract from domestic and economic problems. In addition, even more important, a victorious demonstration of power would damage the detested Indian bourgeoisie with its annoying domestic and foreign policy. Finally, via the war with Delhi, Beijing was able to weaken Moscow’s position in the Sino-Soviet ideological-political contest on the one hand and thwart machinations of US imperialism on the other hand.23 Unsurprisingly, India thought along different lines. In the first hours of the war, Nehru with considerable success appealed to his fellow countrymen to defend not only Indian territory but also the Indian conception of peaceful co-existence, peace policy and independence against an expansionist, hegemonic power.24 Like in 1959, Moscow must have sensed the impending culmination of the Sino-Indian antagonism. After all, already in July 1962 renewed armed hostilities had occurred at the border.25 Nevertheless, as in the preceding years, the accessible files for 1962 do not document any real Soviet diplomatic effort to solve the conflict.26 Quite the contrary, the alarm signals from the Sino-Indian border notwithstanding, Moscow did not hesitate to finalize a large arms deal with Delhi. India, particularly under Minister of Defence Krishna Menon, was striving for greater diversification with regard to military procurement and, in the long term, for greater independence from imports. With the uneasy neighbour China in mind, India was also anxious to upgrade quickly its weaponry.27 Since 1961, the Indian Air Force showed intense interest in the Soviet MiG-21 and in modern jet engines. Finally, additional helicopters and transport planes were considered to be

148  Andreas Hilger useful in high mountain warfare.28 In contrast to previous years, British and American lobbying against the Indo-Soviet deal proved to be ineffective.29 Whether or not India, apart from pragmatic-technical reasons and apprehensions of possible negative implications of US deliveries for current Kashmir debates in the United Nations, considered particularly military hardware procured from China’s ally Moscow to be an additional deterrent against Beijing, remains speculation. In any case, the last round of negotiations started on 2 August 1962. The Indian delegation not only pressed for a quick agreement, but wished to secure flying lessons for Indian pilots on the MiG as well.30 On 29 August, Moscow and Delhi signed the agreement about Soviet delivery of twelve MiG-21 and additional eight AN-12 transport planes. The USSR assured the delivery of four jets for December 1962, the rest for 1963 and 1964. In addition, India obtained a production licence of the MiG with corresponding promises of technical aid and consultation.31 At least US diplomats wondered whether the Moscow leadership was willing to disregard ‘strong Communist Chinese objections’ and was prepared ‘to arouse Chinese passions at a time when they are pressing the Chinese and Indians to stop playing war with their elbows on the northern border’.32 The unsatisfying archival situation concerning the Soviet decision-making process does not allow for definitive answers. The following events suggest, that, in all likelihood, the Kremlin’s readiness to conclude the MiG deal emanated from a strange mixture of short-term deliberations relating to the parallel developing crises on Cuba and in the subcontinent with long-term strategies with regard to capitalism, China and India: a successful Caribbean operation with Chinese support would strengthen the unity of the socialist camp under tacit Moscow leadership. At the same time, a peaceful solution of the Sino-Indian border quarrel would prevent Delhi’s alienation from the socialist community and avoid the weakening of leftist forces in India with their (presumed) power perspectives. Unsurprisingly, the remarkable military aid to India did nothing to ease the border crisis. Belligerent announcements on both sides and minor clashes in September and October further heated the atmosphere.33 The Chinese representative in Delhi on 10 October 1962 confided to his Soviet colleague that ‘the Indian government has already gone too far in this conflict to have the possibility of returning to normal relations’.34 Three or four days later, the Chinese ambassador in Moscow attempted to solicit Khrushchev’s unconditional backing for Beijing’s border policy.35 At least American observers registered ‘indicators of an imminent Chinese offensive’.36 Taking the Chinese warnings, aggressive public statements in Delhi and the regular shooting at the border into account, the decision to postpone the delivery of Soviet MiGs can be regarded as demonstrative attempt

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 149 to deescalate the immediate situation.37 In this perspective, hasty offers ‘of licenses and technical help to make a modified MiG-21pf aircraft in China’, which were never taken up by Beijing, were to balance future deals with India.38 Conversely, these manoeuvres might have been just a part of Soviet efforts to win support in the simmering Cuba crisis – after all, the delivery of the MiGs had been scheduled for December. In any case, the ­Kremlin on 18 October started one final initiative to prevent the outbreak of broad-scale, uncontrollable hostilities. Moscow appealed to both parties. Unfortunately, while the Soviet note to Delhi is available, the corresponding directives to the Soviet ambassador in Beijing are still classified.39 But notes of Soviet-Chinese talks from 13 and 14 October and material from the CC files signal that the Kremlin had no ambitions to foment the dispute but tried, in the cause of socialism, to convince Mao to shelve an outright Sino-Indian War.40 In principle, the Moscow leadership was in no position to exert decisive influence in the Asian theatre. Therefore, in Delhi, Ambassador Ivan A. Benediktov had to plead once again for a peaceful solution of Sino-Indian differences. By underlining the worthlessness of the territories in question, Moscow tried to play down the dimension of the conflict. On the merits of the dispute, the Soviet argumentation quite suddenly adopted Chinese positions. On behalf of Moscow, Benediktov questioned the controversial McMahon Line as colonial leftover and strongly recommended unconditional negotiations with consideration of the factual border situation. Obviously, Chinese presentations had left their impact in Soviet minds, particularly since Benediktov criticized Delhi’s allegedly aggressive postures. First and foremost, however, the Soviet remonstrance in Delhi again documented that Khrushchev situated the Sino-Indian conflict in his ideologically substantiated calculus of the world’s correlation of forces. ‘It is our firm conviction’, Khrushchev let Benediktov explain ‘that an armed conflict between Indian and the PRC only benefits the imperialists’.41 Due to the fragmentary records, one can only approximately describe fundamental motives of Soviet policy on the verge of war. Besides, one gets the impression that the Kremlin tried to avoid a clear and definite choice between Delhi and Beijing. In autumn 1962, Soviet hopes to muster the broadest possible support for its Cuba policy might have been a factor in the Kremlin’s Asian movements, although corresponding archival evidence still remains to be discovered. At the same time, peacekeeping remained a priority in the Soviet calculus. A certain pressure on the Nehru government seemed to be a way to combine both concerns. At the same time, this approach demonstrated Delhi the risks of unwanted rightist deviations of its domestic and international policy.42

150  Andreas Hilger In view of practically incompatible aims of Soviet international policies, the developments in Cuba and the independent dynamics of the Sino-Indian relations, the leadership of the USSR since 10 October 1962 constantly had to readjust its reactions to the border war. The first official reaction came on 25 October. Pravda published the Chinese offer of negotiations, adopted – in line with Moscow’s message to Delhi from 18 October – Beijing’s criticism of the ‘colonial’ McMahon Line and advised Nehru to accept the Chinese proposals. Continued conflict, predicted the Soviet Cassandra, would only serve ‘the interests of imperialism as well as of certain reactionary circles in India as well’.43 In several meetings with East European comrades, the party’s upper echelons class made clear that this was the effective Soviet position.44 Meanwhile, Soviet apprehensions about the double negative effect of the conflict on both the domestic balance of power in India and Delhi’s international position seemed to become true. Foreign observers throughout India noticed a remarkable upsurge of nationalist feelings, accompanied by an all-time low of communist and Soviet prestige as well as by vehement persecutions of Indian left-wingers.45 The most prominent among them, Krishna Menon, became untenable.46 Nevertheless, the nationalist fever captured vast circles of the Indian left including the Communist Party as well.47 On the international level, Moscow could not but register Indian endeavours to obtain as much support and military aid as possible from capitalist metropolises. London and Washington reacted immediately.48 Consequently, the Secretary-General of the CPI, Namboodiripad, warned Benediktov at the end of October ‘that the Indian government . . . can reach the conclusion that only western countries are our true friends’.49 In the end, the Soviet leadership continued to weigh scrupulously its fundamental interests in Asia and on the global stage. What tactics and measures would serve the Soviet programme best – continuous qualified support for China, strict neutral stance or positive signals to Delhi? Active mediation efforts were considered to be impossible, since the Soviet Union would have been compelled ‘to take a position which pleased neither the one nor the other side’.50 But noncommittal neutrality was impossible either, since it was equally disliked by both warring parties. The end of the Cuba crisis on 28 October, accompanied by more or less unfriendly comments emanating from Beijing, might have eliminated one immediate reason for Soviet acknowledgement of Chinese sensitivities and interests in Asia. Moreover, Indian representatives in their efforts to win Soviet understanding knew how to play on the fundamental Soviet-Chinese differences: T.N. Kaul in Moscow and Nehru from Delhi subtly demanded Soviet support in this ‘question of peaceful coexistence between states with different social systems’.51 In addition, the above-mentioned rise of Indian

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 151 nationalism and the increasing Anglo-American engagement shed light on the negative aspects of the previous course. Once again, the uneven archival material does not allow for a final evaluation of the specific contribution of single threads in Moscow’s Asia and global policies in the following remarkable changes of position. Apart from possible considerations to win an indirect justification of the peaceful ending of the Cuba crisis against Chinese critics, Moscow’s changing attitude corresponded with previous motivations: to frustrate efforts by capitalist states to win more influence on India, to avert a (further) deterioration of Soviet-Indian relations with their model character for socialist-Third World relations and, in this connection, to prevent rightist forces within India from gaining additional strength. Furthermore, the developments in Cuba and in Asia had emphasized that Mao’s Beijing was, so to speak, ‘lost’ for the time being.52 On 5 November 1962, a Pravda-editorial bundled these considerations. While once again highlighting imperialist dangers emanating from a prolonged war, Pravda now abstained from support for the Chinese proposals and equally distributed responsibility for a peaceful solution – intermingled with an ideological attack on the socialist competitor: ‘Aspirations for war’, read the reminder, ‘is foreign to the nature of a socialist state’.53 Mao’s China completely ignored Moscow’s views. A second military offensive aggravated India’s position. Only then, on 21 November, China declared a ceasefire.54 Nehru’s government remained sceptical and still upheld preconditions for substantial negotiations.55 This Indian position was finally modified by the mediation of the Colombo powers.56 Meanwhile India continued its accelerated build-up of arms. In this broader context, Delhi nourished specific expectations with regard to Moscow.57

Moscow in the post-war era The second round of fighting had heightened Moscow’s apprehensions concerning the advance of imperialist and reactionary forces in India.58 For Khrushchev, the first priority in the wrap-up of the Cuba crisis as well as in the contest with Chinese strategies was to uphold his concept of competitive, though peaceful, co-existence. Significantly, at the CC plenum of 23 November 1962, the First Secretary vehemently attacked China’s policy in general and in particular its Indian policy. ‘Comrades, why start a war with India. Who needs it? . . . It is a dishonourable war. And it is bad, that it is waged by communists. . . . Apart from suffering’, ran ­Khrushchev’s conclusion, ‘it does not give anything’.59 This was no empty talk. The USSR kept urging Delhi to come to a peaceful solution. ‘[A]ny negotiations are better than war’, Khrushchev, ‘a little excited’, dismissed the Indian ambassador’s reasons for territorial demands. ‘We do not ask you to accept China’s

152  Andreas Hilger conditions. But accept the cease-fire and instead of sending notes etc. sit round the table and discuss various possibilities.’ With regard to the territorial dispute, the Soviet leader underlined that there was nothing to die for. ‘[I]t is so cold’, Khrushchev told in his typical drastic language ‘that you cannot even go to the WC at these heights’.60 At the same time, the Soviet leadership was anxious lest Delhi lost its trust in the Soviet partner – and, even worse, further drifted into the Anglo-American orbit.61 Therefore, and regardless of Chinese rancour, the Kremlin decided to resume normal military relations. In the question of MiG deliveries, Khrushchev and his close advisers decided to revise policy on short notice. While on 23 ­November, Deputy Foreign Minister Yakov A. Malik in his conversation with Ambassador Kaul tried to evade the problem, K ­ hrushchev one day later personally informed Kaul, that the first MiGs could be expected in December thanks to the end of the Cuba crisis, according to the official Soviet stance.62 In addition, Moscow was ready to sell several AN-12 and six Mi-4 helicopters, which had proven useful against Chinese forces.63 According to Soviet sources, until mid-January 1963 six MiGs had arrived in India.64 The delivery of ‘some defence production to India did not change the relative strength between China and India’, ran the Soviet calculus, ‘but to a certain degree it prevented India’s rapprochement to the imperialistic bloc under the leadership of the United States’.65 Soviet support for official India harboured specific problems for the parallel struggle for hearts and minds of Indian society. First, a general militarization of the economy seriously endangered economic development, what tended to thwart Soviet long-term developmental aims on the subcontinent. Second, Moscow feared ‘that reactionary forces want to prolong this conflict in order to change India’s policy, both internal and external’.66 In this context, Khrushchev was worried by ongoing persecutions of communists in India: ‘I hear, Mr. Ambassador, you are arresting a whole range of Communists in your country.’ The Indian Ambassador retorted: ‘They are all Stalinists!’ According to the Indian protocol, Khrushchev laughed aloud about this remark.67 But only a few days later, Pravda and Khrushchev publicly condemned the Indian detentions, whereupon Nehru forbade any further interference in domestic affairs.68 In Soviet eyes, it remained beyond doubt that an ongoing Sino-Indian conflict put an additional strain on both Soviet and socialist relations with India as well as on its domestic situation. In the aftermath of the conflict, in the face of intensive American and British efforts to reconcile the – increasingly unwilling – neighbours India and Pakistan in order to form a joint anti-communist front in South Asia, Moscow’s diplomacy continued its traditional approaches to India (and its unfriendly position towards Pakistan).69 While appreciating the so-called

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 153 ­ ashmir Colombo proposals, the Kremlin recommended a stiff position on K in order to frustrate Anglo-American calculations.70 Besides, Moscow aimed to intensify economic and military relations with Delhi.71 Apart from that, India’s domestic situation remained an important factor for Soviet strategists. Here, India in 1963 gave reason for concern.72 Especially the Communist Party continued to be in disarray.73 Consequently, Ambassador Benediktov expected ‘no real support from the progressive forces in India because of their strong fragmentation and their inconsistent appearance’.74 So, even the optimistic Khrushchev became contemplative: ‘Today’, he mused in June 1963, ‘we have such a situation in India that it is unknown whether the country is able to remain on a neutral course’.75 A few months later, CC ideologues like Boris Ponomarev did not count the Nehru government among those which ‘today stand for the national independence and social progress of their countries’.76

Conclusion In the final analysis, Khrushchev’s Moscow clung to the premises, beliefs and means, in the interconnected fields of system competition and Socialist-Third World relations which had been developed since the mid-1950s. The alternative Chinese international path was considered to be among the main reasons for mixed results. Mikhail A. Suslov during the meeting of Chinese and Soviet ideologists in June and July 1963 particularly condemned Chinese ‘activities in the Sino-Indian border conflict’ as one main obstacle for the ‘influence of the socialist system on other peoples’.77 With Sino-Soviet relations continuously deteriorating, the Soviet leadership increased its support for Indian demands against China.78 This encouragement may have contributed to the lasting rigidity of Delhi and Beijing in their border conflict, which indirectly opened the door for new Anglo-American attempts to interfere in South Asia.79 Thus, the Sino-Indian border war of 1962 and its aftermath indeed had revealed inconsistencies, shortcomings and miscalculations of a long-term grand design of Soviet international policy, which tend to ignore unpleasant realities and independent interests of its partner and objects, respectively.

Notes 1 As general discussions of these interconnected, or entangled, histories see Odd Arne Westad, The Global Cold War: Third World Interventions and the Making of Our Times, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007; Christopher E. Goscha and Christian F. Ostermann, eds., Connecting Histories: Decolonization and the Cold War in Southeast Asia, 1945–1962, Washington: Woodrow Wilson Center Press, 2009; Andreas Hilger, ed.,

154  Andreas Hilger Die Sowjetunion und die Dritte Welt: UdSSR, Staatssozialismus und Antikolonialismus im Kalten Krieg, 1945–1991, München: Oldenbourg, 2009. 2 Lorenz Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split: Cold War in the Communist World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008. 3 As published sources/memoirs see e.g. A.A. Fursenko, ed., Prezidium TsK KPSS 1954–1964, 3 vols., Moscow: ROSSPE˙N, 2003–2008; T.N. Kaul, A Diplomat’s Diary (1947–99): China, India, and USA, (the Tantalising Triangle), Delhi: Macmillan India, 2000; Cold War collections of the Parallel History Project (PHP) and CWIHP, http://www.php.isn.ethz.ch/ collections/colltopic.cfm?lng=en&id=94903 and http://digitalarchive. wilsoncenter.org/, accessed 16 January 2016. The most important – ­accessible – archives are the Nehru Memorial Museum & Library (NMML); National Archives of India (NAI); Russian State Archive of Economy (RGAE˙ ); Russian Archive of Foreign Policy (AVP); Russian Archive of Contemporary History, (RGANI). 4 National Archives of the United Kingdom (NAUK); German Federal Archives, Berlin (BArch), and Foundation Archive of Parties and Mass Organisations of the GDR in the Federal Archives (BArch-SAPMO); Political Archive of Ministry of Foreign Affairs (PA AA); National Archives and Records Administration, Washington (NARA). In addition, see FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX: South Asia, Washington: U.S. Government Printing Office, 1996. 5 ‘Nehru to Chief Ministers’, 6 December 1948, G. Parthasarathi, ed., Jawaharlal Nehru: Letters to Chief Ministers (Letters), vol. 1, Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1985, pp. 231–2. 6 BArch-SAPMO, NY 4076/180, ‘Record of conversation Mao with SED-delegation’, May 1959. 7 For the concept of ‘civilizing mission’ see Boris Barth and Jürgen ­Osterhammel, eds., “Zivilisierungsmissionen”: Imperiale Weltverbesserung seit dem 18: Jahrhundert, Constance: UVK-Publishers, 2005. 8 Surendra K. Gupta, Stalin’s Policy toward India 1946–1953, Denver: Academic Books, 2000; Andreas Hilger et al., eds., Indo-Soviet Relations: New Russian and German Evidence, Zürich: PHP, 2009–11, http://www.php. isn.ethz.ch/collections/colltopic.cfm?lng=en&id=56154&nav1=1&nav2= 8&nav3=4, accessed 8 April 2014. 9 BArch-SAPMO, DY 30/3481, ‘Khrushchev’s Address to Heads of Governments and Parties of Comecon Members’, 6–7 June 1962. 10 Vladislav M. Zubok, A Failed Empire: The Soviet Union in the Cold War from Stalin to Gorbachev, Chapel Hill: University of North Carolina Press, 2007; William Taubman, Khrushchev: The Man and His Era, New York: W.W. Norton, 2003. 11 RGANI, f. 2, op. 1, d. 484, ‘Kozlov in TsK’, 16 July 1960. 12 Lüthi, The Sino-Soviet Split, pp. 46–193; Roderick MacFarquhar, The Origins of the Cultural Revolution, vol. 2: The Great Leap Forward, 1958–1960, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1983, pp. 7–266. 13 For fundamental differences in Nehru’s and Moscow’s worldviews see ‘Academician Yudin on the basic approach: being the full text of Jawaharlal Nehru’s note, “The Basic Approach”, (15 August 1958), and Yudin’s reply, “Can we accept Nehru’s basic approach?” ’, Muhammad Shahidullah Felicitation, (1959), pp. 1–46.

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 155 14 See ‘Head TsK-Department for relations with Communist and Work ers parties, Andropov, to TsK’, 31 March 1959, David Wolff, “One Finger’s worth of historical events”: New Russian and Chinese Evidence on the Sino-Soviet Alliance and Split, 1948–1959, Washington: CWIHP 2000, pp. 60–4; Aleksandr I. Andreyev, Tibet v politike tsarskoj, sovetskoj i postsovetskoj Rossii, Sankt-Peterburg: Izd. Sankt-Peterburg University, 2006, pp. 362–4. 15 MfAA, PA AA, A. 13915, ‘Note on conversation head of GDR trade mission Renneisen and Soviet Ambassador Benediktov’, 29 October 1959. 16 M. Taylor Fravel, Strong Borders, Secure Nation: Cooperation and Conflict in China’s Territorial Disputes, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 2008, pp. 94–6; Jagat S. Mehta, Negotiating for India: Resolving Problems through Diplomacy (Seven Case Studies 1958–1978), New Delhi: Manohar, 2006, pp. 78–103. 17 PA AA, MfAA, A. 765, ‘Memorandum of conversation GDR Ambassador Dölling with Head MID-Department South Asia Likhachev’, 15 January 1962. 18 NMML, Subimal Dutt Papers, SF 24, ‘Memorandum of conversation Nehru with Khrushchev’, 12 February 1960. 19 Quoted in ‘Khrushchev in TsK-Chair’, 26 May 1961, Fursenko, ed., Prezidium CK KPSS 1, pp. 500–7, quotation p. 506, and ‘Memorandum on conversation Khrushchev with Czechoslovakian leadership, 1 June 1961’, Istochnik, (3), (1998), pp. 85–92, here pp. 89–90; see Robert J. McMahon, The Cold War on the Periphery: The United States, India, and Pakistan, New York: Columbia University Press, 1994, pp. 272–8. 20 BArch-SAPMO, DY 30/IV 2/20/317, ‘Information S.A. Dange about CPI’, 7 June 1962. 21 See MacFarquhar, The Origins, vol. 3, pp. 274–305; Allen S. Whiting, The Chinese Calculus of Deterrence: India and Indochina, Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1975, pp. 30–47, 63–64. 22 For a discussion of Indian policies see the contrary interpretations by ­Neville Maxwell, India’s China War, London: Cape, 1970, and Hoffmann, India. 23 Fravel, Strong Borders, pp. 175–88, 194–7; John W. Garver, ‘China’s decision for war with India in 1962’, Alistair Iain Johnston et al., eds., New Directions in the Study of China’s Foreign Policy, Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2006, pp. 86–130. 24 See ‘Nehru to Chief Ministers’, 21 October 1962, Letters, vol. 5: 1958–1964, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1989, pp. 534–9; AVP, f. 90, op. 24, papka 45, d. 11, ‘Nehru to Khrushchev’, 22 October 1962. 25 See CIA, POLO XVI, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute, Section III: 1961–62, Washington: CIA, 5 April 1964, http://www.foia.cia.gov/CPE/POLO/ polo-09.pdf, accessed 14 November 2014; Whiting, The Chinese Calculus, pp. 48–9. 26 See ‘Memorandum Executive Secretary State Department Brubeck, to President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs Bundy’, 10 August 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, doc. 165; ‘protocol TsK-chair’, 26 July 1962, Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 1, pp. 573–4. 27 See ‘Deputy Secretary of Defence Gilpatric, to Under Secretary of State Bowles’, 12 June and 13 September 1961, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX,

156  Andreas Hilger docs. 27, 42; S.N. Prasad et al., eds., History of the Conflict with China, 1962, Delhi: Government of India, Ministry of Defence, Historical Division, 1992, http://www.php.isn.ethz.ch/collections/coll_india/Secret History.cfm?navinfo=96318, accessed 14 May 2015. 28 NMML, K.P.S. Menon Papers, Correspondence with S. Dutt, ‘Indian Ambassador Menon to his successor Dutt’, 28 May 1961; Dutt Diary 11, entries 10, 16–17 August 1961, and Dutt Diary 12, entries 16 January, 22 March, 20 and 28 April 1962, quoted in Amit Das Gupta, Serving India: A Political Biography of Subimal Dutt, New Delhi: Manohar, 2016, chapter ‘Moscow Interlude’; RGAE˙ , f. 4372, op. 80, d. 317, p. 312, ‘Gosplan, Rjabikov, et al., note’, 10 May 1962; RGAE˙ , f. 29, op. 1, d. 2369, ‘Memorandum of conversation Deputy Head GIU, Kovtun, with Indian delegation’, 18 June 1962. 29 See ‘U.S.-Ambassador Delhi Galbraith to State Department’, 8, 13 and 18 May, 25 June and 25 July 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, docs. No. 118, 121–2, 147, 159; ‘NSC, Komer, to President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs Bundy’, 9 and 25 May 1962, ibid., pp. 119, 125; ‘President’s meeting’, 14 June 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, doc.136; NAUK, Prime Minister’s Office (PREM), 11/3836, ‘Nehru to Prime Minister Macmillan’, 23/24 May and 30 June 1962. 30 RGAE˙ , f. 29, op. 1, d. 2369, p. 62, ‘Deputy Head Leiter GKE˙S Arkhipov to Head GKAT Dementev’, 31 July 1962; RGAE˙ , f. 4372, op. 80, d. 320, ‘Head GKE˙S Skatchkov to TsK’, 2 August 1962. 31 RGAE˙ , f. 4372, op. 80, d. 320, ‘Head GKE˙S, Skatchkov, to TsK’, 2 August 1962; ‘Protocol TsK-Chair, 20 August and 14 October 1962’, Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 1, pp. 575–76, 616–17; the agreement in RGAE˙ , f. 29, op. 1, d. 2369, ‘Head GIU Sergeytchik to Head GKAT Dementev’, 6 September 1962; The still classified resolution about the delivery of AN-12, 23 August 1962, is mentioned in Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 3, p. 317, fn. 5. 32 Quotations in ‘Bureau of Near Eastern and South Asian Affairs’, 19 September 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, doc.167, and ‘U.S.-Ambassador Delhi Galbraith to Kennedy’, 6.August 1962, ibid., doc. 164. 33 See CIA, POLO XVI, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute, Section III: 1961–62, Washington: CIA, 5 April 1964. 34 ‘Memorandum of conversation Soviet Ambassador Benediktov with Chinese Chargé d’Affairs Cheng-Cheng’, 10 October 1962, CWIHP, Collection: Cold War in Asia, http://www.wilsoncenter.org/digital-archive, accessed 14 April 2015. 35 See Sergey Radchenko, Two Suns in the Heavens: The Sino-Soviet Struggle for Supremacy, 1962–1967, Stanford: Stanford University Press, 2009, pp. 25–9; MacFarquhar, The Origins 3, p. 312–3. 36 CIA, POLO XVI, The Sino-Indian Border Dispute III: 1961–62, pp. 46–50. 37 See ‘Protocol TsK-Chair’, 14 October 1962, Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 1, pp. 616–7. 38 See Radchenko, Two Suns, pp. 29–30. 39 See Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 3, p. 1008. 40 See Radchenko, Two Suns, pp. 25–9; MacFarquhar, The Origins 3, pp. 312–3. 41 ‘Resolution TsK-chair’, 18 October 1962, Fursenko Prezidium CK KPSS 3, pp. 335–9, here pp. 336, 338–9.

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 157 ˇ , 07/17, Novotný – Zahranicˇí, 42 National Archives Prague, Archive ÚV KSC box 193, SSSR, ‘Memorandum of conversation Khrushchev with Czechoslovak President Novotný’, 30–31 October 1962. 43 ‘V interesakh narodov, vo imja vseobshtchego mira’, Pravda, 25 October 1962, p. 1; ‘Zajavlenie Kitajskogo narodnogo respublika’, ibid., p. 3. 44 See editor’s note regarding ‘conversation Khrushchev with First Secretary of the Romanian Workers’ Party Gheorghiu-Dej’, 30 October 1962, PHP, Global Cold War: India-Soviet Bloc relations, http://www.php.isn.ethz. ch/collections, accessed 16 April 2015; National Archives Prague, Archive ˇ , 07/17, Novotný – Zahranicˇí, box 193, SSSR, ‘Memorandum of ÚV KSC conversation Khrushchev with Czechoslovak President Novotný’, 30–31 October 1962. 45 BArch-SAPMO, DY 30/J IV 2/2J/900, ‘MfAA, Abteilung Information, Information no. 67/XI, 9.11.1962 with Resolution National Council CPI’, 1 November 1962; NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, Correspondence with Nehru, ‘Protocol conversation Khrushchev with Indian Ambassador Kaul’, 24 November 1962. 46 NMML, T.T. Krishnamachari Papers, correspondence with Nehru, T.T. Krishnamachari to Nehru, 30 October 1962. 47 See ‘Memorandum of conversation Soviet Ambassador Benediktov with Secretary-General CPI Namboodiripad’, 26 October 1962, CWIHP, Digital Archive, Collection: Cold War in Asia, http://www.wilsoncenter.org/ digital-archive, accessed 14 August 2014. 48 See ‘Memorandum Executive Secretary, Brubeck, to President’s Special Assistant for National Security Affairs, Bundy’, 15 October 1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, doc. 174; ‘Nehru to Kennedy, 26 October 1962’, ibid., doc. 182; ‘Kennedy to Nehru’, 28 October 1962, ibid., doc. 187; NAUK, PREM, 11/3839, ‘Nehru to Macmillan’, 11 December 1962. 49 ‘Memorandum of conversation Soviet ambassador Benediktov with Namboodiripad’, 26 October 1962, CWIHP, Collection: Cold War in Asia, http://www.wilsoncenter.org/digital-archive, accessed 14 May 2015. 50 NSA, AVP-copy, ‘Memorandum of conversation Deputy Foreign Minister, Pushkin, with Indian Ambassador Kaul’, 13 November 1962. 51 NSA, AVP-copy, ‘Memorandum of conversation Soviet ambassador Benediktov with Indian Ambassador Kaul’, 24 October 1962. 52 See ‘Khrushchev in TsK-Chair’, 3 December 1962, Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 3, pp. 408–9. 53 ‘Peregovory – put’ k uregulirovaniju konflikta’, Pravda, 5 November 1962, p. 1. 54 ‘Chinese announcement’, 21 November 1962, printed in Appadorai, ed., Select Documents I, pp. 673–8. 55 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, correspondence with Nehru, ‘Memorandum of conversation Ambassador Kaul with Khrushchev’, 24 November 1962. 56 See ‘Prime Minister Ceylon to Nehru’, 15 December 1962, Appado rai, Select Documents I, pp. 685–7; ‘Nehru to Chief Ministers’, 2 February 1963, Letters, vol. 5, p. 566. 57 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, Correspondence with Nehru, ‘Ambassador Kaul to Nehru’, 30 November 1962; NMML, T.T. Krishnamachari Papers, Correspondence with Nehru, ‘Minister for Co-ordination of economic and military questions, T.T. Krishnamachari, to Nehru’, 16 December 1962.

158  Andreas Hilger 58 See NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, SF 15, ‘Ambassador Kaul to Nehru’, 16 November 1962; NSA, AVP-copy, ‘Memorandum of conversation Deputy Foreign Minister Malik with Kaul’, 23 November 1962. 59 RGANI, f. 2, op. 1, d. 623, ‘Khrushchev in TsK-Plenum’, 23 November 1962. 60 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, Correspondence with Nehru, ‘Protocol conversation Khrushchev with Ambassador Kaul’, 24 November 1962. 61 Concerning Indian requests for massive military support see NAUK, PREM 11/3839, ‘Nehru to Macmillan’, 20 November 1962; ‘U.S.Embassy Delhi to State Department’, 19.11.1962, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. XIX, doc. 203. 62 See NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, correspondence with Nehru, ‘Protocol conversation Khrushchev with Ambassador Kaul’, 24 November 1962; NSA, AVP-copy, ‘Memorandum of conversation Malik with Kaul’, 23 November 1962. 63 See Prasad, History of the Conflict with China, pp. 349–64. 64 See ‘Head GKAT, 5th department, Khokhlov, to Head GIU GKE˙S Sergeytchik’, 10 January 1963, RGAE˙ , f. 298, op. 1, d. 3828. 65 ‘Resolution TsK-Chair’, 28 January 1965, Mikhail Prozumenshchikov, ‘Spor idet o slishkom bol’shikh veshchakh: Neudavshajsja popytka sovetsko-kitajskogo primirenija: 1964–1965 g., part 2, (Istochnik), 2007, 1, pp. 19–20. 66 NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, correspondence with Nehru, ‘Protocol conversation Khrushchev with Ambassador Kaul’, 24 November 1962. 67 Ibid. 68 See ‘Mirovaja obshchestvennost osuzhdaet repressii protiv Kommunisticheskoj Partii Indii’, Pravda, 30 November 1962, p. 5; ‘Speech Khrushchev in Supreme Soviet’, 12 December 1962, Pravda, 13 December 1962, p. 4. 69 See McMahon, The Cold War, pp. 286–304; McGarr, The Cold War, pp. 171–86, 192–215, 228–41; AVP, f. 117, op. 17, papka 31, d. 16, ‘Note MID-Dpt. South Asia Bryntsev on Kashmir’, 25 June 1963. 70 See Hemen Ray, Sino-Soviet Conflict over India: An Analysis of the Causes of Conflict between Moscow and Beijing over India since 1949, New Delhi: Abhinav Publishers, 1986, pp. 79–80; NMML, T.N. Kaul Papers, correspondence with Nehru, ‘Note Ambassador Kaul on conversation with former Soviet Ambassador Menshikov, to Nehru’, 28 December 1962. 71 See ‘CIA, Current Intelligence Weekly Review’, 21 June 1963, FRUS, 1961–1963, vol. V: Soviet Union, doc. 334. 72 See McGarr, The Cold War, pp. 252–5. 73 See ‘Resolutions CEC CPI and National Council’, 15–17 January and 5–12 February 1963, Jyoti Basu, ed., Documents on the Communist Movement in India, vol. 9: 1962–1963, Calcutta: National Book Agency, 1997, pp. 249–53, 283–303. 74 PA AA, MfAA, A. 14009, ‘Note GDR-Trade mission Delhi, Böttger, 2 December 1963, on conversation Head of Mission Scholz with Soviet Ambassador Benediktov’, 25 November 1963. 75 RGANI, f. 2, op. 1, d. 658, ‘Khrushchev in TsK-Plenum’, 21 June 1963. 76 RGANI, f. 2, op. 1, d. 696, ‘Ponomarev in TsK-Plenum’, 12 December 1963. 77 BArch-SAPMO, DY 30/3608, ‘Suslov in Sino-Soviet negotiations’, 6 July 1963.

The Soviet Union and the Sino-Indian border war, 1962 159 78 See ‘Protocol TsK-Chair’, 23 July 1963 and 19 August 1964, Fursenko, Prezidium CK KPSS 1, pp. 734, 849–50; RGANI, f. 2, op. 1, d. 743, ‘Suslov in TsK-Plenum’, 14. February 1964, and Resolution Plenum, 15 February 1964. 79 PA AA, MfAA, A. 13978, ‘Note GDR-Attaché Moscow Hentze, 30 December 1963, on conversation Deputy Head MID-Dpt. South Asia Smirnov with member GDR-embassy, Quiliztsch’, 23 December 1963.

8 Saving non-alignment Diplomatic efforts of major non-aligned countries and the Sino-Indian border conflict ˇ avoški Jovan C The Sino-Indian War in 1962 not only marked the definite watershed in the bilateral relationship between the People’s Republic of China (PRC) and India but also represented the defining moment in shaping the future of global non-alignment during the Cold War years. Unlike any other previous crisis where leading non-aligned nations faced direct or indirect encroachment by the great powers (e.g. like Egypt in 1956), this was the first crisis where the very notions of Afro-Asian solidarity and the viability of non-alignment were questioned. This was not a conflict between a traditional great power and a Third World nation, which would have made the choice between the antagonists for many Afro-Asian nations easy, but a direct clash between two major Asian nations that sought recognition as the leader of Third World politics. Furthermore, it was the competition between two alternative approaches to Third World politics – the regionalist approach within the Afro-Asian framework against the more globalist approach of non-alignment vis-à-vis the superpower blocs. In this manner, the whole Third World ultimately found itself torn between the revolutionary, radical and regionalist ideas of Afro-Asianism, which were directly represented by the Chinese ideological experience and backed by ­Indonesia and some radical African countries, and somewhat more pragmatic and flexible, universalist and non-aligned principles advocated by countries such as Yugoslavia, India and the United Arab Republic (UAR). In addition, due to their specific relationships with either of the conflicting parties, many non-aligned nations found it difficult to take sides, which compelled them to seek a diplomatic solution in order to avoid an open rift between key Afro-Asian nations. Finally, the war in 1962 also marked a moment when India’s non-alignment was under grave threat, which forced countries like Yugoslavia and the UAR, which had formed with India the core of global non-alignment, to engage in serious diplomatic activities in order to preserve India’s place among non-aligned nations as intact as possible.

Saving non-alignment 161 The Sino-Indian conflict has drawn attention throughout many publications, but the aspect of diplomatic mediation of major non-aligned nations during that period hitherto has not drawn much scholarly attention. Nevertheless, some authors have already noticed that the Third World dimension as one of the trigger points of the Sino-Indian confrontation was significant and sometimes indicative to understand the wider implications of such a crisis in the nations standing apart from the two blocs. There are only few publications, some of them 50 years old, which concentrate on this aspect of this international crisis.1 Therefore, in order to shed more light on the role the ‘Third Side’ of the Cold War exercised during the border war and after, as well as on China’s and India’s reactions to these initiatives, this chapter will largely base its elaboration on newly declassified documents from the American, Chinese, Indian, Russian and Serbian archives.

Preliminary non-aligned reactions to the Sino-Indian dispute When the unresolved border issue between China and India burst into armed clashes in August 1959, it not only influenced regional peace and stability but also changed earlier perceptions that Indian and Chinese public had held about each other. Since the border issue was closely connected to the events in Tibet, tensions between the two countries were already running high.2 In the words of the Yugoslav Ambassador to India, Dušan Kveder, this new Sino-Indian rivalry became ‘a contradiction unknown in the recent history of Asia, which demands from us new assessments of the overall situation in Asia and assuming a new stance’.3 In fact, China and India had become competitors for influence in Asia, while the initial economic successes in China were also raising stakes for India to accelerate its own development.4 However, as one high-level Indian official confidently told Yugoslav diplomats in April 1959, India was not willing or ready to undertake a programme of comprehensive military rearmament since this would have affected the country’s economic modernization.5 Conversely, Beijing faced an unprecedented internal crisis that gradually compelled Mao Zedong to undertake a shift in his policies and seek compromises with the Soviets and China’s key neighbours, like Burma and Nepal.6 Nevertheless, some Indian diplomats like Jawaharlal Nehru’s sister Vijaya Lakshmi Pandit by the fall of 1959 were convinced that China’s goal was to discredit India’s non-aligned foreign policy, to force Nehru to side with the West, and thereby to affect India’s ties with the Soviet Union and Afro-Asian nations.7 Yugoslavia’s leader Josip Broz Tito emphasized to Nehru that the problems which Yugoslavia and India were facing with China were the result of Beijing’s intentions to demonstrate the feebleness

162  Jovan Cˇ avoški of the Soviet policy of peaceful co-existence.8 Therefore, Belgrade’s diplomatic support for Delhi was crucial for solidifying India’s non-aligned foreign policy, particularly vis-à-vis the socialist camp, thus ‘keeping the minimal balance’ between the superpowers, as Nehru confided to ambassador Kveder.9 Since 1959, Yugoslavia, Egypt, and other non-aligned countries harboured serious concerns regarding the effect of Sino-Indian tensions on the prospects of India’s non-alignment. Preserving the latter became an imperative for Belgrade and Cairo, since without India their whole concept of organizing the non-aligned world would have become unfeasible.10 Nehru in turn was doing everything to keep the Sino-Indian dispute out of the East–West competition in order to avoid confronting the joint Sino-Soviet alliance or weakening the non-aligned position of his country and of other Asian nations.11 However, surprisingly to Yugoslavia and the UAR, the dispute with China did not make India intensify its relations with other non-aligned countries, but, on the contrary, resulted in further inactivity. Nevertheless, Belgrade’s strained relationship with both Beijing and Moscow became an open textbook for Delhi to study how to deal with two communist powers; in turn, it also triggered Yugoslavia’s spontaneous solidarity with India during the war of 1962.12 As a high-ranking official of the Indian Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) told the Yugoslav ambassador, the Balkan country was ‘more present in the internal deliberations of the MEA than before’ since the Yugoslav case was used as ‘the best example and argument’ against all those officials sceptical about India’s non-aligned course.13 Nevertheless, when Yugoslavia and the UAR proposed in late 1959 to convene another tripartite meeting between Tito, Nehru and Gamal Abdel Nasser – similar to the meeting on Brioni in July 1956 – in order to signal a common stance on the world scene, Nehru turned this idea down. He was against any kind of multilateral initiative that might result in a non-aligned conference addressing world problems before any great power summit.14 India understood that the turn in its relationship to China during the year of 1959 required a new approach to Afro-Asian nations, since this conflict was more about world opinion than about borderlines. However, India started approaching many Afro-Asian states in a bilateral fashion, shying away from any multilateral initiatives, though still taking somewhat for granted its leading position among them. During the preparatory phase of the First Conference of Non-Aligned Nations in Belgrade in September 1961, which Nehru only reluctantly joined, India realized that it had ‘overestimated its strength, respect, influence, and role’ in the face of the onslaught of some Third World radicals. As Ambassador Kveder concluded, India had ‘lost touch with the Afro-Asian world and sensibility

Saving non-alignment 163 for its aspirations’, which largely isolated Delhi from other non-aligned countries.15 Conversely, when Nehru needed clear backing from many of these nations in a time of crisis, some were initially reluctant to render support to India, a country that had conducted, a policy of ‘nonalignment towards the nonaligned’.

The Sino-Indian border war and international reactions During the years 1961 and 1962, the situation at the Sino-Indian border steadily deteriorated, pitting two countries against each other along the unsettled borderline. These developments meant that India implemented its ‘Forward Policy’ along the western and eastern sectors of the border, while the Chinese response on the ground was designed to dissuade Indian troops from further encroachments, as stipulated by Mao Zedong.16 However, when new clashes took place again in September 1962, the situation had already passed a point of no return. Full-scale armed conflict erupted on 20 October and lasted for a month, ending with India’s defeat and ­China’s unilateral withdrawal to its original positions.17 Acting both on their own behalf and simultaneously responding to Indian pleas, Western powers were ready to render large-scale military assistance and thereby draw India into its ranks, thus discarding the whole concept of non-alignment.18 Conversely, the Soviet Union at first was treading carefully due to its peculiar relationship with China and the concurrent Cuban Missile Crisis. But already in mid-November, Moscow confidentially indicated its strong friendship with Delhi as a means to thwart India’s potential rapprochement with the West.19 The impact of the border conflict on the prospects of India’s non-alignment disturbed like-minded nations and compelled them to act. In many ways, China’s decision to engage in an armed conflict with India aimed at both forcing the Soviet hand into aligning with the PRC and readjusting ­Beijing’s policies among national-liberation and revolutionary movements. Ultimately it served China to prove that India’s non-alignment was ‘false’ because Nehru ‘really’ stood side by side with the United States.20 The open support of India by non-aligned countries was slow to materialize, with many Afro-Asian governments only expressing their concerns, merely providing cautious support, or even just remaining silent. This, however, did not mean that the crisis in the Himalayas was not at the top of their diplomatic agendas.21 This conflict had the potential to set an unwanted precedent for the Afro-Asian world to become embroiled in wars against each other. Naturally, Afro-Asian countries rejected war as a means to solve bilateral issues, but were also concerned that the Sino-Indian War threatened to

164  Jovan Cˇ avoški undermine notions of Afro-Asian solidarity and non-alignment, strengthened imperialism and deepened divisions between these nations, irrespective of their position towards India or China.22 India saw the border war with China not only as an expression of conflicting territorial claims, but also as a Chinese attempt to compromise India’s policy of non-alignment.23 Since Nehru was subjected to growing pressure from right-wing politicians and large parts of the Indian public to align the country with the West, he interpreted, in a letter to Soviet leader Nikita S. Khrushchev, the border war as an assault against the basic principles of peaceful co-existence, thus undermining not only India’s security, but also world peace.24 In a conversation with Soviet Ambassador to India Ivan Benediktov in early November, Secretary-General R.K. Nehru emphasized that this conflict revolved around issues of peaceful co-existence and non-alignment. It was meant to compel India to drop its non-aligned foreign policy, join the Western bloc, and thereby undermine Soviet efforts to prop up and promote peaceful co-existence as means for cooperation with different Afro-Asian countries.25 This was one of the most serious crises for non-aligned countries hitherto – one that could have shaken the very foundations of global non-alignment, leaving most of this group without India’s presence and authority, with China and its allies triumphant to represent the voice of the Third World in the global arena.26

Afro-Asian attempts at mediation Diplomatic initiatives sprang into action even before the border war had started. On the eve of the war, Liberian President William Tubman advocated Afro-Asian mediation in the Sino-Indian conflict. Since Tubman was close to the United States, some African leaders suspected him to act on behalf of Washington.27 Nations like Guinea or Ghana were taking a pro-Chinese position at first, opposing any foreign assistance to India. However, when the war had started, Ceylon and the UAR were among the first to offer their good offices for mediation. Nasser, as one of the leaders closest to Nehru, wanted to address the warring parties as soon as possible. Just one day into the hostilities, he sent a telegram to both Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai and Nehru in which he even proposed to send Prime Minister Ali Sabri to China and India, respectively, to negotiate an immediate ceasefire, a withdrawal to the line of actual control either on 20 October or on 8 September 1962, and the establishment of a demilitarized zone. He also put forward an idea for a conference of ten non-aligned nations to resolve the dispute.28 At the same time, Nasser also sent a message to Ceylonese Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike, requesting her to assist in his efforts to find an immediate solution. Cairo reportedly was convinced

Saving non-alignment 165 that Nasser’s letter to Zhou gave an impetus to Beijing’s decision to offer a three-point proposal on 24 October that implied negotiations and mutual withdrawal.29 However, when Zhou saw the Egyptian ambassador to China, he refused to accept the line of actual control from 20 October but expressed willingness to find a diplomatic solution, despite the fact that all his previous attempts had failed.30 The Egyptian publication of its own four-point proposal on 1 November only further alienated Chinese officials; subsequently, they accused Nasser of a pro-Indian bias.31 Beijing had already decided to initiate diplomatic consultations with Indonesia, since it counted on President Ahmed Sukarno exercising more influence in the Afro-Asian world along China’s interests than Nasser.32 India, too, was irritated by Nasser’s diplomatic efforts, expecting a clearer stance of Egyptian support for India, similar to Delhi’s firm stand during the Suez Crisis six years ago. Since China refused Nasser’s mediation, while India, one of its closest friends, demonstrated displeasure, the UAR decided to stand behind India and to wait for the results of other mediating efforts.33 Egypt’s Foreign Minister Mahmoud Fawzi admitted that differences had emerged among Afro-Asian countries which put obstacles before concerted mediating efforts. Still, Cairo hoped, the situation might become favourable because China was largely isolated in the world in general and after the war in particular, while India by that time had established a vast network of diplomatic relations with non-aligned countries, the West and the Soviet Union. But Fawzi remained concerned about Nehru’s acceptance of arms deliveries from the West and how it would play out with regards to the future of non-alignment, given that the PRC expressed its anger when the UAR decided to sell light arms and tanks to India even if it was on a much lesser scale than what Western powers offered.34 Following Nasser’s initial attempt at mediation, other Afro-Asian countries launched their own initiatives. Sudanese President Ibrahim Abboud sent a letter to both Zhou and Nehru, calling for a ceasefire and negotiations with the help of friendly Afro-Asian countries.35 Ghana’s President Kwame Nkrumah directly appealed to Nasser to undertake a joint attempt to find a negotiated solution, but never received a response.36 Other Afro-Asian countries hoped to use Afghanistan, a country with stable relations with both India and China, as a possible mediator too, but these initiatives did not materialize either.37 Therefore, Ceylon, apart from Indonesia, proved to be the only Afro-Asian country that China trusted, largely as a result of its specific position between the two conflicting parties. Ceylonese officials were going even further in trying to adapt their proposals and efforts to China’s willingness to accept mediation by a group of Afro-Asian countries, including Burma and Indonesia. Bandaranaike

166  Jovan Cˇ avoški initially proposed an immediate ceasefire that precluded that both India and China would hold back their claims until common ground for a comprehensive solution was found.38 Burma also moved closer to Chinese positions, probably because it feared a deterioration of the situation along its own border notwithstanding the agreement with the PRC in early 1960. Conversely, Burma’s leader General Ne Win preferred secret diplomacy, and thus he kept any Burmese proposals out of the public domain – unlike Nasser, whom he privately disparaged. This kind of approach won a lot of sympathy for Burma’s leadership in China, which even preferred Ne Win over Bandaranaike as a potential chief mediator.39 With more and more initiatives for mediation emerging from various Afro-Asian countries, China believed it had the upper hand in compelling India to come to the negotiating table. Even if India would balk, any kind of peace-making effort from the Afro-Asian nations would have been considered as a Chinese diplomatic victory.40 That was the reason why Beijing particularly counted on Indonesia to present China’s case to other Afro-Asian nations and thereby foil any attempts by Nasser to promote India’s interests. The Indonesians were very reluctant to assume any clear position; in any case, they did not want to back India given their own implicit competition with it over influence in Asia.41 When Chinese leaders insisted on a visit of Sukarno to Beijing as a diplomatic move to influence the Afro-Asian community, the Indonesians considered this as a positive signal. Yet, since they could exert little influence over India, they approached Yugoslav diplomats to request from Tito to compel Nehru to negotiate directly with Sukarno, who would then visit the PRC and present India’s position.42 Sukarno was particularly worried about the possibility of a long-term Sino-Indian conflict, including a break up of diplomatic relations, which would undermine any of his efforts to convene a second Bandung conference. He conveyed his worries twice to Zhou and Chinese Foreign Minister Chen Yi through the Indonesian ambassador in Beijing.43 However, the Indonesians reportedly also requested from China to cease all propaganda attacks against Nehru and Tito as a precondition to start any negotiations, and to stop criticizing aid which Afro-Asian countries received from either of the two blocs, arguing that such assistance did not undermine their impartiality.44 Moreover, China’s position was also strengthened by the publication of Zhou’s letter to 25 Afro-Asian leaders from 15 November, in which he presented the Chinese case and openly criticized India’s past and concurrent unwillingness to negotiate.45 Only six days later, China ceased its military activities and withdrew its troops, an indication of goodwill towards its Afro-Asian partners. Nasser and Bandaranaike immediately picked up on this as a positive sign; the Ceylonese prime minister even suggested

Saving non-alignment 167 a conference of six non-aligned countries (Burma, Cambodia, Ceylon, Ghana, Indonesia and the UAR) in Colombo to discuss diplomatic solutions.46 Both India and China accepted this proposal, but they also immediately started to try to win over as many of the participating countries as possible. In reality, Beijing was not happy about the conference since it primarily wanted bilateral talks with India, but it could not reject any mediation efforts coming from Afro-Asian countries.47 As means to influence the course of events, Nehru sent Deputy Foreign Minister Lakshmi Menon first to Rangoon, where she asked for Burma’s neutrality in the conflict and warned of joining any anti-India campaign.48 In Indonesia, she assured Sukarno that India would only accept a solution that prescribed the joint withdrawal to the line of actual control on 8 September.49 Simultaneously, Chinese diplomacy was not standing idly on the side, either. Deputy Foreign Minister Huang Zhen was dispatched to Burma and Indonesia, right at the time when Lakshmi Menon was there, and then to Ceylon.50 The Indonesian side insisted that not only China assisted in finding a peaceful solution, but it also had to re-establish trust of South and Southeast Asian nations in China’s good intentions. Huang left for Ceylon with Sukarno disappointed; in its aftermath, the Indonesian President decided to stop personal mediation and instead to rely upon the decisions of the forthcoming conference in Colombo.51 Already a month earlier, Chen Yi had paid a visit to Cambodia to present the Chinese stance on the conflict to Sihanouk, another participant at the forthcoming conference in Colombo.52

Yugoslavia’s non-aligned attempts at mediation What caused even greater concern in India was Yugoslavia’s silence when the war broke out. Although Nehru had quickly sent a letter to Tito at the end of October asking him to use his international influence to rally support for India and even rendering military aid by dispatching artillery for warfare in the mountains, no reply from Belgrade came forth for another two weeks. Yugoslavia was reluctant to offer public backing to India, which seemed puzzling to many at the time. When a message finally arrived in Delhi on 13 November, the Indian side was satisfied with its contents, since Yugoslavia offered full support for India’s position even if Tito requested not to publish it yet. But Indian officials disapproved of this request, given that China’s pressure was potentially forcing India to give up basic, non-aligned principles of its foreign policy.53 Some of the reasons for Yugoslavia’s initial foot-dragging stemmed from both its inability to influence China and its dissatisfaction with previous Indian policies that had neglected closer coordination among the non-aligned nations.

168  Jovan Cˇ avoški Yugoslavia’s actions were designed to teach India a lesson in appreciating non-aligned initiatives, particularly those coming from Belgrade. Tito knew well that his opinion and actions would influence the posture not only of other non-aligned nations, but also of the Soviet bloc, and he needed time to calibrate carefully his international position.54 Any open siding with India against China when even Moscow was reluctant to take a clear stance might have had a negative impact on ­Yugoslav efforts to normalize relations with the Soviet Union. Being both non-aligned and communist put an additional strain on Yugoslav foreign policy. Tito thus was closely following events in Moscow, hoping for cues that would allow him to start with his own initiative.55 Internally, the ­Yugoslav government believed that India was responsible for its global isolation, since it had neglected developing friendly relations with key non-aligned countries, particularly those in Asia. Now India’s future depended on the attitude of the two superpowers – a situation which might have a negative backlash on the non-aligned stance in international affairs.56 Some non-aligned countries, like Indonesia and Cambodia, counted on Tito to mediate the border conflict, but since they were also well aware that China would resist any such attempt they did not raise the issue at all. Yugoslav diplomats in Beijing knew that Chen Yi had tried to impress on Ceylonese and ­Indonesian ambassadors that Yugoslavia must not participate in the forthcoming Colombo Conference; otherwise China would refuse any mediation.57 Therefore, Yugoslavia decided to act behind the scenes and render its support to India in a different manner. Yugoslavia followed three policies to present its stance to the outside world. First, it relied on the closest political coordination with the UAR. Second, Tito used his short-term visit to Moscow as means to influence Soviet views. And third, Vice-President Kardelj travelled to Indonesia and India to establish close cooperation with these two key non-aligned countries. As to the first, Nasser had originally intended to visit Y ­ ugoslavia prior to the Colombo Conference for consultations with Tito.58 He shared ­Yugoslav views that the Indians were responsible for their diplomatic isolation themselves, and that the Chinese masterfully exploited this situation.59 Yet, instead, Tito sent Foreign Secretary Kocˇa Popovic´ to see Nasser in Cairo. According to several sources, Popovic´ brought with him a proposal for a new Belgrade Conference, to be convened in the near future to discuss Sino-Indian relations.60 In the end, both sides agreed on a joint platform for negotiations at the Colombo Conference, which meant that the UAR delegates in Colombo would present both Cairo’s and Belgrade’s views.61 In addition, both the UAR and Yugoslavia considered a participation of Chinese and Indian representatives as well, which eventually did not find any sympathies with the belligerents.62 Ultimately, however, Yugoslavia and

Saving non-alignment 169 the UAR would offer all their diplomatic backing in order to bring Delhi closer to their views and preserve India’s non-aligned position in world affairs. Soon after the end of Sino-Indian hostilities, in late November, the newly appointed Indian Ambassador to the USSR, T.N. Kaul, met Khrushchev. The Soviet leader now was much more open in his support for India. He clearly stated that ‘we hope India will continue to follow its policy of nonalignment’; Moscow would continue its policy ‘of strong friendship’, and it would ‘fulfil all our obligations’.63 Once Moscow had altered its stance with regard to Delhi, some non-aligned countries were also tilting towards India. In general, Nehru considered it as an imperative to keep a certain distance from the Western bloc and maintain a non-aligned course as a precondition for any future Soviet support.64 At the same time, India concentrated more effort on non-aligned countries ‘because of the common ideology’ among them. T.N. Kaul wanted non-alignment to be further developed ‘irrespective of regional and racial ties it cuts across’.65 This was very close to Yugoslavia’s view that non-alignment was a universal and not only a regional political concept, unlike the Afro-Asian movement. Another influential Indian diplomat, R.K. Nehru, too, no longer saw non-alignment as irreconcilable with the principle of acceptance of military aid from any of the Great Powers, but as another sign of India’s independent position and political pragmatism.66 In this respect, India only followed Yugoslavia’s and the UAR’s previous experiences with both superpowers.67 Moscow’s change of mind to render diplomatic support to India induced Tito to seek rapprochement with the Soviet Union. In early December, he set off for Moscow where he met the Soviet leadership and even made a public speech in the Supreme Soviet. Beforehand, Chinese propaganda painted the impending visit as an unfavourable development, particularly after years of its own venomous attacks against the Yugoslav president.68 Even though in the official transcripts of Soviet-Yugoslav talks the Sino-Indian border conflict was not mentioned, the main goal of Tito’s visit was more than obvious. In a letter he sent to Nehru after his return from Moscow, Tito said that though his counterparts had fully shared his views on the causes of the Sino-Indian conflict, they could not do so in public due to the specific Soviet relationship with China and the Soviet commitment to the policy of peaceful co-existence. But Tito assured Nehru that Khrushchev had conveyed to him that he would firmly support a negotiated solution between India and China.69 While Tito was in Moscow, Vice-President Edvard Kardelj paid official visits to Indonesia and India. In Jakarta, after Huang Zhen’s visit, he discussed the international situation, and the Sino-Indian border conflict with Sukarno, Prime Minister Djuanda and Foreign Minister Subandrio.

170  Jovan Cˇ avoški Both sides agreed that the proposals of the impending Colombo conference had to be fully implemented by both China and India, but Kardelj particularly insisted that non-aligned countries ought to render assistance to India in order to ‘keep it on the right path’. Since Indonesia was closer to China, Kardelj urged his hosts to influence Beijing, finding attentive ears of Sukarno, who, notwithstanding his criticism of Nehru, was interested in keeping the non-aligned group intact. The Indonesians in turn also proposed to facilitate the normalization of Sino-Yugoslav relations – an idea to which Kardelj expressed neither agreement nor disapproval.70 In Delhi, where Kardelj was received solemnly, he held long talks with Nehru. These were mainly about the nature of Chinese politics, PRC relations with non-aligned countries, the Soviet Union, as well as about the necessity for India to remain non-aligned. Kardelj was convinced that the main goal of China’s actions was to compromise India’s non-alignment and break up the non-aligned group, thus leaving India, Yugoslavia and the UAR largely isolated from the rest of the Third World, and insuring the survival of the Afro-Asian movement which Beijing tried to control. Therefore, Yugoslavia promised to render its full support in winning over other non-aligned countries to back India’s stance or to refrain from supporting China. Both sides agreed that the Colombo proposals had to be accepted by both India and China in order to reach a final settlement. Kardelj also met representatives of the Communist Party of India, who were impressed by his views about the world situation and the future of socialism. Although some Indian circles expected even more open Yugoslav support for India, Nehru was quite satisfied with the visit since it helped him to strengthen and reaffirm his non-aligned foreign policy, to clarify his position, and to get additional arguments to counter internal criticism.71 The visit was officially portrayed as a clear signal that Yugoslavia was firmly on India’s side, ultimately confirming that India would not move closer to the West, or even join an alliance.72 In a letter to one of his Chief Ministers, Nehru expressed his gratitude to Kardelj for pointing out to him this wider, global dimension of China’s involvement in South Asia.73

The Colombo mediation If the Colombo Conference in December 1962 officially was named as a gathering of non-aligned countries, it in essence was a meeting of countries embarking on the Afro-Asian path of China’s foreign policy. This was evident in Bandaranaike’s attempt to take the political initiative from Nasser. Beijing was optimistic about the conference’s outcome, since it appeared that most of the participants – at least Burma, Indonesia, Cambodia, Ceylon and possibly Ghana – would be on China’s side, while the UAR was

Saving non-alignment 171 alone and weakened by Yugoslavia’s non-participation.74 Although the Chinese were still largely interested in winning the Indians for bilateral negotiations, the Colombo Conference provided the second best possible way to render diplomatic pressure on Delhi, as Vice Foreign Minister Huang Zhen conveyed to Sihanouk.75 When the Colombo Conference started on 10 December 1962, Bandaranaike put at its core the cause of non-alignment and its ability to solve disputes between Afro-Asian countries. At first all participants tried to keep a balance between China and India, but this did not last for long.76 Soon Ali Sabri and Ne Win engaged in an intense dispute about two strongly differing peace proposals, supporting either India or China. Sabri’s suggestion to uphold the principle ‘no territorial gains through military operations’ stood in opposition to Zhou’s three-point proposal, on which Burma’s and Cambodia’s concept was based. Unsurprisingly, the two blamed Sabri for being pro-Indian. The deadlock was only overcome through efforts by the Indonesian, Ceylonese and Ghanaian delegations.77 In the end, the participants agreed on a compromise solution which stipulated that Chinese troops would withdraw 20 kilometres in the western sector while Indian troops would remain where they were. As to the eastern sector, the proposal foresaw that the line of actual control as re-established at the end of hostilities should serve as ceasefire line, which enabled Indian troops to return to their positions along the disputed McMahon Line. In this manner, both sides would have kept what was important to them in both sectors.78 However, Ali Sabri was so dissatisfied with the outcome of the conference that he refused to accompany Bandaranaike to Beijing to present the Colombo proposals.79 Indonesian officials, conversely, considered the proposals as a means to provide time for India to build up its defences and strengthen its diplomatic position.80 The visit of Bandaranaike and Subandrio to Beijing in early January and their meetings with Mao Zedong, Liu Shaoqi, Chen Yi and Zhou Enlai constituted only a partial success. Even though Zhou appreciated the efforts of the six Afro-Asian non-aligned nations, the proposals, nevertheless, were unacceptable to China, since they called only on Chinese troops to withdraw. Zhou emphasized that, if the Chinese troops should withdraw, Indian troops should also vacate the posts taken after 8 September.81 Mao Zedong saw these proposals as a means to disengage with India and gradually start direct negotiations, so he held a more positive view.82 Separate talks with Zhou, Chen and Liu mostly dealt with the international situation, with all of them being highly critical of India, and thereby denouncing its non-aligned position as false and having a negative impact on other Afro-Asian nations.83 However, as a sign of goodwill, Zhou ultimately accepted a withdrawal of Chinese forces in the western sector by

172  Jovan Cˇ avoški 20 kilometres. He, however, demanded that thereafter no Indian civilian or military personnel would be allowed to enter that area. Equally, in the eastern sector, Indian troops should not enter areas vacated by Chinese troops; only civilian administrators would be allowed to move up to the line of actual control as re-established after the hostilities. Later on, Zhou even suggested that neither side should establish any posts, civilian or military, in vacated areas.84 Moreover, he also sent a personal message to Nehru via Subandrio in which he requested that India should repudiate military aid from the West and again commit itself to reviving Afro-Asian solidarity.85 After travelling from Beijing to Delhi, the two envoys both held constructive talks with Nehru. While he initially maintained that there were still differences between Chinese requests to keep some positions in Ladakh in the western sector and what Indians suggested as the line behind which both sides should retreat, he, ultimately, accepted the proposals in total. The Chinese, on the contrary, only had done so in principle. Since some minor specifications were added to the proposal on an Indian request, this raised further suspicions in Beijing as it seemed that it was designed to water down the essence of the Colombo proposal.86 This unfortunate outcome of the Colombo Conference caused a personal conflict between Bandaranaike and Subandrio, threatening further prospects of the mediating effort.87 As a matter of fact, the Indonesians had already reached an agreement with the Chinese that, after the end of the mission, a new Colombo Conference should be convened with additional Asian and especially African participants, which was supposed to become a precursor to the second Bandung Conference in 1965.88 Egypt, however, was firmly against this idea and claimed that any new conference should only be convened if necessary.89 China was dissatisfied with the Indian stance over the mediation effort, since it did not preclude a possibility for future direct negotiations; Zhou even expressed his resentment in letters to both Bandaranaike and ­Nkrumah. He even demanded Indian troops to keep to their present positions along the whole border and not just in the western sector as a precondition for direct talks, while China would not set up civilian posts on its side of the line of actual control as it was re-established after the hostilities. Nehru, however, continued to insist on the full implementation of the Colombo proposals.90 In fact, some changes in the Chinese position occurred during Ali Sabri’s visit to Beijing in April 1963, when the Chinese premier agreed that direct Sino-Indian negotiations should start without any preconditions. This was Chinese tactics to go beyond the Colombo proposals to reach some diplomatic results. Giving in to Nehru’s demand that the Colombo proposals should be accepted in total, Zhou in turn received the Egyptian promise not to extend mediation beyond the Colombo group. In the end, this was yet another Chinese manoeuvre to avoid even indirect

Saving non-alignment 173 Yugoslav participation.91 Nevertheless, even though this visit might have helped to improve Sino-Egyptian relations – even though Beijing was still unsure about Nasser’s revolutionary credentials – by then the Colombo initiative was in a crisis from which it would never recover, notwithstanding some later mediation attempts.92 Sino-Indian relations were damaged beyond repair for the foreseeable future, while the influence of the two superpowers had become a game changer for any future developments. By the turn of 1962/63, the Sino-Indian border dispute had become just another frozen conflict of the Cold War with far-reaching consequences, but, as Yugoslavia or the UAR were concerned, India had remained a fully committed non-aligned country, now totally devoted to the diplomatic success of the non-aligned group vis-à-vis its Afro-Asian competitor promoted by China. Nehru had indeed needed an international boost to preserve his previous foreign policy strategy, avoid internal and external pressures and remain fully independent in world affairs, while Tito and Nasser were there to back up Nehru’s aspirations as much as they both were able to. This would also be the case with Nehru’s successors.93

Conclusion As it was the case with the Arab defeat by Israel in June 1967, the short Sino-Indian border war was one of the major foreign policy crises that could have adversely affected the course of history for the so-called non-aligned movement. This was the moment when India’s non-aligned position in world politics was at peril, affecting the course of action of other key non-aligned actors. Previous literature either ignored the diplomacy of non-aligned countries during this period or even considered it as unsuccessful and detrimental to India’s position, clearly demonstrating the feebleness of the whole non-aligned concept. Even though new divisions emerged between these nations at the Colombo Conference, they were not only a result of China’s overt diplomatic pressure on some of them, but also an outcome of India’s earlier continuous policy of ignoring or observing with condescension any multilateral non-aligned initiatives. Pursuing its policy of ‘splendid isolation’, Delhi ultimately found itself abandoned by many Asian and African countries, particularly its neighbours Ceylon, Burma and Nepal together with Indonesia, which was a painful discovery for India. The failure of the Colombo mediation notwithstanding, the overt or secret diplomatic activities of Yugoslavia and the UAR in Moscow or among other non-aligned nations ultimately helped garner wider diplomatic and worldwide public support for India. Therefore, India became

174  Jovan Cˇ avoški aware that only by readjusting its policies towards the Soviet Union and non-aligned countries additional pressure could be exerted on Beijing. As a result, this helped Nehru to find a way out of the dilemma without being forced to align with the West, thereby both strengthening his commitment to a non-aligned foreign policy that he shared with Tito and Nasser and forging stronger ties with Moscow as a balance to China’s influence. In the wake of the Sino-Indian War, India became one of the strongest proponents of convening the new non-aligned conferences that could have foiled China’s attempts to mobilize the Third World behind it.94 For Tito and Nasser, it was not problematic that Nehru sought arms from both blocs, since they had had similar experience with both W ­ ashington and Moscow in times of crisis. Since it was crucial for India’s security, it was fully acceptable. But as long as there were no formal commitments or alliances with the great powers, as long as this did not jeopardize the very foundations of Nehru’s non-alignment, India was free to pursue a balancing act between the two blocs in order to prop up its independence and preserve its freedom of action. Any other choice, particularly a pro-Western one, would have only alienated most of the Third World away from India, and Moscow would have been forced to stand behind its intransigent ally China, their previous conflict notwithstanding. Then, Tito and Nasser would not have had a strong ally to face a radical onslaught inside the Third World led by China and Indonesia, which would be the case in 1964–65.

Notes 1 See G.H. Jansen, Afro-Asia and Nonalignment, London: Faber and Faber, 1966; Priyankar Upadhyaya, Nonaligned States and India’s International Conflicts, New Delhi: South Asian Publishers, 1990; Cecil V. Crabb, ‘The Testing of Nonalignment’, The Western Political Quarterly, 17(3), (1964), pp. 517–42; Alvin Z. Rubinstein, Yugoslavia and the Nonaligned World, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1970. 2 People Republic of China Foreign Ministry Archive (PRC FMA), 105–00658–02, ‘Indian reactions to the Tibet issue’, April 1959. 3 Diplomatic Archives of the Serbian Foreign Ministry (DAMSPS), Political Archives (PA), year 1960, folder (f) 36, document 412367, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav Embassy in India’, 4 May 1960. 4 Foreign Policy Archives of the Russian Federation (AVPRF), fond (f.) 0100, opis’ 52 (op.), papka (p.) 451, delo (d.) 77, ‘On Sino-Indian Relations’, 22 December 1959. 5 Archives of Yugoslavia (AJ), 507, CK SKJ, IX, 42/VI-11, ‘Nehru and China’, 6 April 1959. 6 Shen Zhihua, ed., ZhongSu guanxi shigang, 1917–1991 nian: ZhongSu guanxi ruogan wenti zai tantao [History of Sino-Soviet Relations, 1917–1991; Questions and Explorations of Sino-Soviet Relations], Beijing: Shehui kexue wenxian chubanshe, 2010, pp. 320–5.

Saving non-alignment 175 7 National Archives and Records Administration (NARA), Record Group (RG) 59, 691.933/10–2959, ‘Telegram from the U.S. Embassy in the UK’, 29 October 1959. 8 AJ, 837, Cabinet of the President of the Republic (KPR), I-1/369, ‘Tito’s letter to Nehru’, 25 October 1959. 9 DAMSPS, PA, 1959, f-37, 427574 ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 19 October 1959. 10 DAMSPS, PA, 1959, f-69, 426394, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 4 October 1959. 11 DAMSPS, PA, 1959, f-37, 410699, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 17 April 1959. 12 AJ, 507, CK SKJ, IX, 42/VI-28, ‘Passivity in India’s foreign policy’, 1960. 13 DAMSPS, PA, 1959, f-37, 428043, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 26 October 1959. 14 Nehru Memorial Museum and Library (NMML), Subimal Dutt Collection, Subject File 39, ‘S. Dutt instruction’, 14 December 1959. 15 DAMSPS, PA, 1961, f-117, 420359, ‘Analysis of India’s position at the preparatory meeting in Cairo’, 24 June 1961. 16 Shi Bo, ZhongYin da zhan jishi [Record of Events in the Big China-India War], Beijing: Zhongguo dadi chubashe, 1993, pp. 182–6. 17 Srinath Raghavan, War and Peace in Modern India: A Strategic History of the Nehru Years, New Delhi: Permanent Black, 2011, pp. 292–308. 18 Paul M. McGarr, The Cold War in Asia: Britain, the United States and the Indian Subcontinent, 1945–1965, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2013, pp. 149–82. 19 NMML, T.N. Kaul Collection (I-III instalments), Correspondence with Nehru, ‘T.N. Kaul to Nehru’, 16 November 1962. 20 Dai Chaowu, ‘Yindu waijiao zhengce, daguo guanxi yu 1962 nian Zhong Yin bianjie chongtu’ [‘India’s Foreign Policy, great power relations and the 1962 Sino-Indian border conflict’], in Niu Dayong and Shen Zhihua (eds.), Leng zhan yu Zhongguo de zhoubian guanxi [The Cold War and China’s Relations with Neighbouring Regions],Beijing: Shijie zhishi chubanshe, 2004, pp. 548–51. 21 Jansen, Afro-Asia, pp. 326–8. 22 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/11–1062, ‘UAR attitude on Sino-Indian conflict’, 10 November 1962. 23 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 438257, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 19 November 1962. 24 AVPRF, f. 90, op. 24, p. 45, d. 11, ‘Nehru’s letter to Khrushchev’, 5 November 1962. 25 ‘New East Bloc documents on the Sino-Indian conflict, 1959–62’, CWIHP Bulletin, 8–9, pp. 264–5. 26 Sarvepalli Gopal, Jawaharlal Nehru, vol. 3, Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1975, pp. 229–30. 27 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/10–1962, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Liberia’, 19 October 1962. 28 PRC FMA, 107–00528–11, ‘Zhou Enlai’s correspondence with Nasser and other Afro-Asian heads of state or government’, 26 October 1962. 29 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-16, 435224, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Ceylon’, 24 October 1962.

176  Jovan Cˇ avoški 30 Zhonggong zhongyang wenxian yanjiushi bian [CCP, Central Documents Research Office], ed., Zhou Enlai nianpu, 1949–1976 [A Chronicle of Zhou Enlai’s Life, 1949–1976], vol. 2 (ZELNP2), Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian, 1997, pp. 505–6. 31 PRC FMA, 107–00528–11, ‘Zhou Enlai’s correspondence with Nasser and other Afro-Asian heads of state or government’, 11 November 1962. 32 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 437664, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 14 November 1962. 33 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 435683, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 27 October 1962. 34 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 437216, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in the UAR’, 13 November 1962. 35 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 436248, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Sudan’, 5 November 1962. 36 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 434940, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Ghana’, 26 October 1962. 37 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/11–762, ‘Circular telegram from the State Department’, 7 November 1962. 38 PRC FMA, 105–01144–04, ‘Bandaranaike’s attitude towards the Sino-Indian border issue’, 12 November 1962. 39 PRC FMA, 105–01068–02, ‘Attitude of the Burmese government towards the Sino-Indian border conflict’. 40 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/12–762, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in the UAR’, 7 December 1962. 41 PRC FMA, 105–01786–01, ‘Response to some points raised by S ­ ubandrio’, 28 November 1962. 42 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 437213, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Indonesia’, 14 November 1962. 43 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-64, 439374, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 23 November 1962. 44 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-64, 431371, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 21 November 1962. 45 Jin Chongji, Zhou Enlai zhuan [Biography of Zhou Enlai], vol. 4, Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1998, pp. 1663–6. 46 Ibid., p. 1670. 47 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-16, 438908, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Ceylon’, 24 November 1962. 48 NARA, RG 59, 396.1-CO/11–3062, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Burma’, 30 November 1962. 49 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/12–462, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Indonesia’, 4 December 1962. 50 NARA, RG 59, 396.1-CO/12–362, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Ceylon’, 3 December 1962. 51 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 439420, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Indonesia’, 3 December 1962. 52 Liu Shufa, ed., Chen Yi nianpu [A Chronicle of Chen Yi’s Life], vol. 2, ­Beijing: Zhongyang wenxian chubanshe, 1996, p. 943. 53 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/11–1762, ‘Tito’s message to Nehru on November 13’, 17 November 1962.

Saving non-alignment 177 54 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 436450, ‘Circular telegram from the Yugoslav Foreign Secretariat’, 9 November 1962. 55 Rubinstein, Yugoslavia and the Nonaligned World, pp. 294–7. 56 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 441423, ‘Circular telegram from the Yugoslav Foreign Secretariat’, 21 December 1962. 57 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-64, 440389, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 8 December 1962. 58 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-138, 458746, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in the UAR’, 24 November 1962. 59 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/12–862, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in the UAR’, 8 December 1962. 60 NARA, RG 59, 691.93/11–3062, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in the UAR’, 30 November 1962. 61 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-138, 439208, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in the UAR’, 30 November 1962. 62 NARA, RG 59, 396.1-CO/11–2962, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Greece’, 29 November 1962. 63 NMML, T.N. Kaul Collection (I-III instalments), Correspondence with Nehru, 1962, ‘Record of talk between Khrushchev and T.N. Kaul’, 24 November 1962. 64 NMML, T.T. Krishnamachari Collection, Correspondence with Nehru, 1963, ‘Nehru to B.K. Nehru’, 8 March 1963. 65 NMML, T.N. Kaul Collection (I-III instalments), Subject File 15, ‘Letter from T.N. Kaul to M.J. Desai’, 18 December 1962. 66 NMML, T.N. Kaul Collection (I-III instalments), Correspondence with R.K. Nehru, 1962, ‘Letter from R.K. Nehru to T.N. Kaul’, 20 December 1962. 67 See chapter by Lorenz Lüthi. 68 William E. Griffith, The Sino-Soviet Rift, Cambridge: MIT Press, 1964, pp. 85–7. 69 AJ, 837, KPR, I-1/378, ‘Tito’s letter to Nehru, 13 January 1963’. 70 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 441436, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in Indonesia’, 19 December 1962. 71 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-37, 4646, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 5 January 1963. 72 NARA, RG 59, 033.6891/12–2962, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in India’, 29 December 1962. 73 Jawaharlal Nehru, Letters to Chief Ministers 1947–1964, vol. 5, New Delhi: Jawaharlal Nehru Memorial Fund, 1989, pp. 553–4. 74 NARA, RG 59, 396.1-CO/12–1162, ‘Telegram from the U.S. consulate in Hong Kong’, 12 December 1962. 75 PRC FMA, 106–01398–01, ‘Talks between Vice Minister Huang Zhen and Sihanouk’, 30 November 1962. 76 Upadhyaya, Nonaligned States, pp. 73–6. 77 Jansen, Afro-Asia, pp. 339–42. 78 DAMSPS, PA, 1962, f-37, 441909, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 22 December 1962. 79 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-136, 431, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in the UAR’, 30 December 1962.

178  Jovan Cˇ avoški 80 NARA, RG 59, 033.6891/12–2162, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in Indonesia’, 21 December 1962. 81 PRC FMA, 105–01792–05, ‘Record of talks between Zhou Enlai, ­Bandaranaike and Subandrio’, 4 January 1963. 82 PRC FMA, 105–01792–06, ‘Record of talks between Mao Zedong and Subandrio’, 5 January 1963. 83 PRC FMA, 204–01493–05, ‘Record of talks between Zhou Enlai, Chen Yi and Subandrio’, 3 January 1963. 84 ZELNP2, p. 525. 85 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-65, 443394, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 1 February 1963. 86 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-37, 41977, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in India’, 17 January 1963. 87 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-65, 413405, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 13 April 1963. 88 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-65, 41293, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in China’, 7 January 1963. 89 NARA, RG 59, 033.6891/1–1463, ‘Telegram from the U.S. embassy in India’, 14 January 1963. 90 Jin Chongji, Zhou Enlai zhuan, vol. 4, pp. 1685–8. 91 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-136, 415821, ‘Telegram from the Yugoslav embassy in the UAR’, 7 May 1963. 92 PRC FMA, 107–00523–04, ‘Instruction to Ambassador Chen Jiakang to see Ali Sabri over the Sino-Indian border issue’, 17 October 1963. 93 DAMSPS, PA, 1963, f-37, 417220, ‘The Sino-Indian dispute’, 1963. 94 See chapter by Lorenz Lüthi.

Part 3

Domestic perspectives

9 Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency Institutional re-alignments Imtiaz Omar The Sino-Indian border war in 1962 provided the then Indian government, headed by Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, the opportunity to use, for the first time, the emergency provisions of the Indian constitution. Since then two other proclamations of emergency were declared in 1971 and 1975. The emergency declared in 1962 was in force the longest period of time, up until 1969, long after the cessation of hostilities in the border war. During this period of time, the powers of the executive and legislative branches of government under the Indian Constitution were largely expanded to the detriment of citizens’ constitutional rights. Although unaltered during emergency, the powers of the judicial branch of government were also indirectly affected. The powers of the principal organs of government available under the Constitution of India during peace time therefore underwent significant re-alignments as a result of a proclamation of an emergency. This chapter examines the constitutional re-arrangements of the powers of the three principal institutions of government during a state of emergency that can be declared by the President of India under the relevant provisions of the Indian Constitution in circumstances of external aggression and war; certain circumstances of insurrection and rebellion within India can also be a ground for a declaration of emergency entailing the exercise of extraordinary powers of the executive.

Constitutional framework of the Indian Constitution: fundamental rights and emergency powers A distinctive feature of the Constitution of India is the inclusion of a catalogue of constitutionally guaranteed, and judicially enforceable, individual rights designated as ‘Fundamental Rights’. The articulation of the individual rights in the Indian Constitution is preceded by a declaration that all laws inconsistent with the fundamental rights shall be void to the extent of

182  Imtiaz Omar the inconsistency.1 Among the rights entrenched in the Indian Constitution are the following: a) right to equality;2 b) rights to freedom of speech, assembly, association and movement;3 c) right to life and personal liberty;4 and d) right to freedom of religion.5 Among the fundamental rights, the Indian Constitution enumerates certain safeguards as to arrest and detention.6 These safeguards guarantee any person who is arrested the right to be informed of the grounds of the arrest, the right to consult and be defended by a legal practitioner of his or her choice and the right not to be detained without the authority of a magistrate beyond a specified time period. These safeguards, however, do not apply to any person that is arrested or detained under any law providing for preventive detention. The principal object of preventive detention is not to inflict punishment upon a person for any act done but rather to prevent him from doing it. The justification of such detention is suspicion or reasonable probability, and not the tangible evidence required for legal proof. Since preventive detention allows the deprivation of liberty without the normal processes of law, it has become a very significant factor in social and political control, particularly during periods of emergency. When the Constitution of India was adopted in 1949, the majority of the Constituent Assembly appears to have felt that preventive detention was a necessary evil, and was presumably optimistic that executive discretion exercised by an Indian authority would be more humane than that exercised by the former colonial masters. This feeling facilitated the entrenchment of detention without trial among the fundamental rights, subject to a number of procedural safeguards directed at curtailing the powers of preventive detention, and rendering them subject to certain specific limitations.7 The safeguards relating to preventive detention guaranteed by the Constitution of India are essentially procedural in nature, and it is left to the legislatures to determine the substantive content of the exercise of this power. The legislatures have responded by enacting enabling statutes which define the purpose of the power in broad categories such as ‘maintenance of public order’, or ‘security of the state’. The condition precedent for the issue of a detention order is the subjective satisfaction of an executive officer or authority that the incarceration of the detainee is necessary in order to achieve the objects of the enabling legislation. The major safeguard against the arbitrary exercise of the power of preventive detention by the executive is the requirement that ordinarily no preventive detention may extend beyond a specified period, unless an advisory board, consisting of members with prescribed qualifications, has determined that there is sufficient cause for a detention beyond that period. Under the Indian constitution, the Supreme Court, in addition to being a general appellate tribunal, has original jurisdiction under Article 32 ‘to

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 183 issue directions or orders or writs, including writs in the nature of habeas corpus, mandamus, prohibition, quo warranto and certiorari, whichever may be appropriate’, for the enforcement of any of the fundamental rights guaranteed by the constitution.8 Article 226 of the constitution confers on the high courts of the states in India the power to issue similar remedies, not only for the enforcement of fundamental rights but also ‘for any other purpose’. Detailed emergency powers are entrenched in the Indian Constitution. A proclamation of emergency by the executive under Article 352 of the Constitution of India enables the promulgation of special executive decrees and legislative enactments that provide for preventive detention, and other extraordinary powers encroaching upon all aspects of the constitutional rights of individuals. A proclamation of emergency may be issued by the president on grounds of war or external aggression, or armed rebellion/ internal disturbance.9 A number of extraordinary consequences flow as a result of a proclamation of emergency. Among those that have a direct impact on the lives of individual citizens are the permissible derogations from important civil and political rights such as the freedom of speech, assembly, association, and movement.10 Also among these consequences is the power of the president to suspend, by order, the right of an individual to move any court for the enforcement of any of the constitutional rights specified in that order.11 Under the original provisions of the Article 352, a proclamation of emergency may be issued when the president is satisfied, first, that there is a grave emergency and, second, that the gravity of the emergency is such as to threaten the security of the nation. Moreover the kinds of ‘emergency’ which would justify a proclamation appear to be specifically described as crises arising from war or external aggression, or internal disturbances. The purposes for which an emergency may be declared are thus clearly defined. Article 352 includes provisions related to the Union Parliament’s powers in the event of a proclamation of emergency. There are, however, no provisions in the Indian Constitution as to whether parliamentary elections could be held during a period of emergency. As a consequence, several elections for the Union Parliament and state legislatures have been held during the continuance of an emergency. The terms employed in the text of the constitution in connection with a proclamation of emergency are explicit. However, their relevance as substantive criteria for the purpose of evaluating the constitutional limitations on the power to proclaim an emergency can be problematic. This is because of the fact that the apprehension of an imminent threat is expressly mentioned as sufficient to permit the issue of a proclamation. Thus, even a mild disturbance may, in the opinion of the president, be reasonably regarded as

184  Imtiaz Omar constituting an ‘imminent threat’ to the security of the state, and justify the imposition of an emergency regime. The most striking feature of the emergency provisions of the Indian Constitution is the power conferred upon the president to suspend, by order, the right to move any court for the enforcement of the fundamental rights conferred by the articles of the constitution specified in the order. Among the various emergency powers conferred upon the executive, the power to bar access to the courts is the power that has the most direct impact upon the lives of ordinary citizens. During the operation of proclamations of emergency in India, the power to suspend the enforcement of fundamental rights has been regularly invoked. It should be noted that in contrast to the factual circumstances which the Constitution of India postulates with respect to the issue of a proclamation of emergency, the exercise of the extraordinary power to suspend the process of the courts is subject only to the condition that there be a proclamation of emergency in force. There are no words of limitation to suggest that either the power to suspend the enforcement of fundamental rights, or the effect of such suspension is confined to matters having a nexus with the purposes of an emergency.

Sino-Indian border war in 1962: proclamation of emergency and suspension of fundamental rights Emergencies on the ground of war or external aggression were declared in India in 1962 and 1971.12 The emergency of 1962 was proclaimed in the wake of armed conflict with China. Although there was another war between India and Pakistan in 1965, there was no need to proclaim another emergency since the 1962 state of emergency was still in operation. In December 1971, India declared another state of emergency when civil disorders, in what was then still the province of East Pakistan, erupted in a civil war in which India militarily intervened the same month. The state of emergency declared in 1962 continued in force until 1969, long after the reasons for its issue had clearly ceased to exist. In a like manner of prolongation, the emergency declared in 1971 was not revoked until 1977. The Indian courts consistently rejected legal challenges to the long continuation of the emergencies declared in 1962 and 1971. On 28 October 1962, the same day as the issue of the proclamation of emergency, the President of India promulgated the Defence of India Ordinance, 1962.13 The Defence of India Rules, enacted under the authority of the ordinance, were published in the Gazette on 6 November 1962.14 On 12 December, the ordinance was replaced by the Defence of India Act that provided for the continuance of the Rules, and the validation of

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 185 any action taken there under.15 The subordinate legislation consisted of 156 rules that provided for the regulation of virtually all aspects of life – travel, trade, communication, publication, occupation, finance and such like. The provisions were little more than a copy of the Defence of India Rules, 1939,16 which the British administration in India had promulgated during World War II. Rule 30 of the Defence of India Rules, 1962, empowered the central and state governments to detain any person to prevent him or her from engaging in acts prejudicial to the defence of India, civil defence or public safety. The Rules made no provision for the service of the grounds of detention upon the detainee, for the making of a representation by a detainee against an order of detention, or for the maximum period of detention. Rule 30-A, which was subsequently inserted in the Rules, made provision for the periodic review of detention by the government, but did not confer any right to make a representation against an order of detention. The provisions in the Rules dealing with the preventive detention were patently inconsistent with the constitutional safeguards guaranteed by Article 22 of the Constitution of India. On 3 November 1962, the president issued an order, under Article 359(1) of the constitution, suspending the right of any person to move any court for the enforcement of the rights conferred by Articles 21 and 22, ‘if such person has been deprived of any such rights under the Defence of India Ordinance, 1962, or any rule or order made there under’.17 The order was amended on 11 November 1962, so as to include a suspension with respect to the equality rights conferred by Article 14.18 The presidential order of 1962 remained in force until the revocation of the proclamation of emergency in January of 1968. The true issue regarding the 1962 emergency and the subsequent one in 1971 with respect to the declarations of ‘external’ emergency in India did not involve the validity of the issue of the respective proclamations, but rather the constitutionality of the refusal of the executive to revoke the emergencies in question. It could not be seriously denied that the initial proclamation of either of the two emergencies had been issued on valid grounds and that hence the condition precedent, namely the president’s satisfaction, was not open to challenge. In the landmark Supreme Court case of Makhan Singh Tarsikka v State of Punjab, for instance, the Supreme Court of India held that issues relating to the continuation of the emergency and related matters ‘must inevitably’ be left to the executive.19 With regard to a presidential order under Article 359(1) of the constitution, however, the question arises whether the exercise of this power is subject to any implied limitations. This question was first addressed during the operation of the Proclamation of Emergency of 26 October 1962,

186  Imtiaz Omar occasioned by the outbreak of the Sino-Indian conflict. On 30 October 1962, the president had, by order,20 declared that the right of any foreigner to move any court for the enforcement of the fundamental rights, conferred by Articles 21 and 22, was to be suspended. The constitutional validity of this order was challenged in Ghulam ­Sarwar v Union of India.21 The petitioner, a Pakistani national residing in India, who had been detained under section 3 of the Foreigners Act, 1946,22 contended, inter alia, that the order of 30 October was constitutionally invalid because it was a violation of the equality rights guaranteed by Article 14 of the constitution. Another presidential order, dated 11 November 1962, had suspended the right of any person, including a foreigner, to enforce specified fundamental rights with respect to a specified statute, namely the Defence of India Ordinance, 1962.23 In the context of these two orders, it was argued in Ghulam Sarwar v Union of India that to single out foreigners as a class and to suspend their rights unconditionally without reference to any specified legislation constituted unreasonable discrimination and hence violated the equality rights conferred by Article 14. Chief Justice Subba Rao, who delivered the majority judgment of the court in the Ghulam Sarwar case, stressed the distinction between the making of an order under Article 359(1) and its legal effect. Although a valid order would effectively bar the maintainability of a plea based on the fundamental right conferred by Article 14, a presidential order, being a ‘law’ within the meaning of Article 13, which makes ‘an unjustified discrimination in suspending the right to move a court under Article 14 itself, will be void at its inception’.24 Although the classification made by the order was upheld as reasonable in view of the emergency,25 the chief justice unequivocally asserted the jurisdiction to question the validity of the exercise of executive power under Article 359(1). In Mohammed Yaqub v State of Jammu and Kashmir,26 the Supreme Court expressly overruled its previous decision in the Ghulam Sarwar case and rejected the proposition that a presidential order could be tested upon the anvil of the very right which it purported to make unenforceable. Pointing out that Articles 13 and 359 were parts of the same constitution, and applying the principle of harmonious construction, the Supreme Court concluded that a presidential order under Article 359(1) could not possibly be regarded as ‘law’ within the meaning of Article 13(2), for otherwise Article 359(1) would be rendered inoperative, and ‘a declaration made there under . . . would have no meaning whatsoever’.27 With its decision in the Ghulam Sarwar case, the Supreme Court sought to subject the validity of a presidential order under Article 359 to a test of reasonableness by the standards laid down in Part III of the constitution on fundamental rights, including such standards as are derived from these rights which the order

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 187 purported to make unenforceable. The Mohammed Yaqub case restored the inviolability of executive discretion.28 The principal questions regarding the interpretation of a presidential order of the type issued on 3 November 1962, and its effect on the justiciability of the exercise of the executive power of detention under the Defence of India Rules, were addressed in the landmark case of Makhan Singh Tarsikka v State of Punjab.29 The appeals considered by the Supreme Court in the Makhan Singh case arose from a large number of decisions of the High Courts of Bombay and Punjab. In view of the bar created by the presidential order, issued under the power conferred by Article 359(1) of the constitution, the high courts of the those states had dismissed twenty-six petitions and applications challenging, on a variety of grounds, detentions made under the authority of section 3 of the Defence of India Act/Ordinance. Before the Supreme Court, the appeals were heard not on the substantive issues, but involved only the preliminary question of maintainability.30 With respect to the general scope and legal consequence of a presidential order under Article 359(1), the Supreme Court, in the Makhan Singh case, observed that its legal effect was to constitute ‘a sort of moratorium or blanket ban’ against the initiation, or continuation, of any legal action which ‘in substance’ sought to enforce a fundamental right specified in the presidential order. On this interpretation of Article 359, the Supreme Court unanimously31 concluded that a presidential order could never operate as a bar to proceedings in which executive action is attacked on grounds that are not relatable to the specified fundamental rights. These concerned the enforceability of rights other than those specified in the presidential order; infringement by the detaining authority of mandatory provisions of the detention legislation; and mala fides.32 The right not to be deprived of life or liberty, except according to procedure established by law, is a fundamental right conferred by Article 21 of the Indian Constitution. The Supreme Court of India has consistently held that the term ‘law’ as used in Article 21 means statute law or common law, and is not to be regarded as equivalent to notions such as ‘natural law’ or ‘natural justice’.33 The substantive standards to which a law contemplated by Article 21 must conform are thus prescribed not by Article 21, but by other rights included in Part III, as for example, the equality rights of Article 14, and the rights contained in Article 19. Moreover, executive action and probably any enabling statute that deprives a person of life or personal liberty must be in conformity with the safeguards regarding arrest and detention as entrenched in Article 22. In order to ascertain the true ratio decidendi of the Makhan Singh case, it is necessary to take into consideration the terms of the presidential order

188  Imtiaz Omar of 3 November 1962. The order suspended the right of any person to enforce the fundamental rights conferred by the specified Articles only ‘if such person has been deprived of any such rights under the Defence of India Ordinance, 1962, or any rule or order made thereunder’.34 Therefore, in addition to the condition prescribed by Article 359(1), namely that a presidential order could affect only such rights as were conferred by Part III of the constitution, the order of 1962, by its own terms, imposed a second condition for the operation of the bar therein contained. The bar created by the order in respect of the rights conferred by Articles 14, 21, and 22, applied only if the specified condition was fulfilled, namely that the impugned action has been taken under the authority of the enabling legislation. It was by means of applying common law principles applicable to judicial review of administrative action and not by limiting the scope of Article 359(1) that the Supreme Court, in the Makhan Singh case, came to its conclusion in this regard. This conclusion was that a detention order which is purportedly issued under the authority of the Defence of India Act or Rules, and which is found by the court, to have been passed ultra vires, or motivated by mala fides, would not be an order falling within the scope of the specified legislation. Since it would not attract the bar created by the presidential order of 1962, such a detention order would be liable to be struck down. This line of reasoning of the majority in the Makhan Singh case cannot be construed as an authoritative delineation of the scope of Article 359. This proposition receives support from the manner in which the principles of the majority judgment in the Makhan Singh case were reformulated by the court in Ananda Nambiar v Chief Secretary to the Government of Madras.35 In the latter case, it was explicitly indicated that it is the conditional nature of the presidential order and not necessarily a constitutional limitation on the scope of Article 359(1), which operates so as not to bar a plea of ultra vires.36 The specific purposes for which the power of detention could be exercised under the Defence of India Act, 1962, differ little from the purposes already sanctioned by existing preventive detention statutes, such as the Preventive Detention Act, 1950.37 The emergency legislation of 1962, however, differed in two important respects from the ‘normal’ preventive detention laws. The Defence of India Rules did not make provision for the procedural safeguards, which are guaranteed by Article 22 of the constitution and which are generally found in non-emergency legislation. Even more significantly, the Rules did not require that the detaining authority provide the detainee with the grounds for his or her incarceration.

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 189 Since the early years of independence, the Indian courts had established the procedural foundation for the judicial review of preventive detention by holding that Article 22(5) of the constitution implicitly required that a detainee have such particulars communicated to him or her as may be necessary to make an effective representation.38 These subsidiary rights, which were judicially derived from the right to make a representation, sometimes enabled the courts to require the detaining authority to disclose the basic facts that constituted the basis of its requisite satisfaction. Since the effect of the presidential order of 1962 was, inter alia, to suspend the right to move any court to enforce the right to make a representation, which is a right conferred by Article 22(5) of the constitution, the courts could no longer require that the detaining authority communicate the particulars to the detainee. Hence the procedural basis for the judicial control of the abuse of the detaining power was severely curtailed.39 The fact that, in view of the presidential order, Article 22 of the constitution could no longer be invoked to compel the detaining authority to communicate the relevant material facts to the detainee, seriously eroded the court’s ability to ascertain the vires of an impugned detention order. Obviously, questions of ultra vires and mala fides are exceedingly difficult to establish in a court of law without at least some reference to the facts which constituted the basis of the authority’s satisfaction that an order of detention was necessary. Where the detaining authority voluntarily specified the material facts relating to its satisfaction, the courts have, on occasion, been prepared to consider such facts in assessing whether or not the order falls within the objects of the act.40 The general trend, however, has been for the Indian courts to be profoundly reluctant to go behind the face of a detention order, particularly in cases arising under the Defence of India Act. Where the detaining authority declines to reveal the material facts relevant to the grounds specified in the order of detention, judicial review is necessarily confined to the face of the record. In Ram Manohar Lohia v State of Bihar,41 the Supreme Court set aside a detention order on the ground that the detaining authority had acted beyond the scope of its powers. The order of detention stated that apprehension of the petitioner was necessary on the ground that he constituted a threat to the ‘maintenance of law and order’. The majority of the court noted that the relevant provision of the Defence of India Rules permitted detention for the purpose of preventing acts prejudicial to ‘public order’. In the opinion of the court, the expression ‘law and order’ connoted a larger sphere of control than was permitted by the grant of power with respect to the maintenance of ‘public order’. The court quashed the detention order, holding than an order expressed to be made with a view to preventing acts

190  Imtiaz Omar prejudicial to ‘law and order’ could not be justified in terms of the relevant Rule. When the detaining authorities, in the Ram Manohar case, sought to introduce evidence to show that the defect was merely due to an error in transcription, the Supreme Court added a new dimension to its policy of refusing to go behind the face of a detention order. In Jagannath Misra v State of Orissa,42 the order of detention had listed six grounds which simply reproduced in terms practically all the grounds specified in section 3(2)(15) of the Defence of India Act. In his affidavit, the Home Minister of Orissa stated that he was personally satisfied that it was necessary to detain the petitioner under the Defence of India Rules ‘with a view to prevent him from acting in a manner prejudicial to the safety of India and the maintenance of public order, etc.’. In ruling on the validity of the detention order, the court noted the discrepancy between the terms of the order and the wording of the minister’s affidavit and concluded that ‘there can be little doubt that the authority concerned did not apply its mind properly before the order in question was passed’. Hence, the petitioner was entitled to release as the detention order ‘was passed without the application of the mind of the authority concerned’. The court also noted that the order employed the disjunctive ‘or’ rather than the conjunctive ‘and’ in enumerating the grounds of detention, and felt that this was further evidence that the order was merely a copy of the relevant section of the act. The use of the abbreviation ‘etc.’ in the minister’s affidavit was held to be another example of casualness.43 In Sadanandan v State of Kerala,44 the Supreme Court found a mala fide use of power, first, because the official who issued the detention order did not make the effort of denying the allegation that the arrest had been ordered for wholly extraneous purposes and, second, because the affidavit of the home secretary abounded with palpable defects. The court found his statements to be ‘very vague and unsatisfactory’ and observed that the affidavit was ‘so irregular’ in form that it could be ignored on that ground alone.45 In Sadhu Singh v Delhi Administration,46 the Supreme Court held that the violation of Rule 30-A of the Defence of India Rules, which provided for the review of the order of detention after six months, made the detention order void. The implications of the Supreme Court decision in the Sadhu Singh case were easily resolved. Faced with the prospect of having numerous detentions invalidated by the courts, the respective governments hastily revoked the affected orders, and simply issued fresh orders of detention. This procedure was subsequently given judicial sanction by the Supreme Court.47 The Supreme Court decisions discussed above constitute only a handful of instances that challenged the proclamation of emergency under Article 352

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 191 of the constitution, the impact of the presidential order under Article 359(1), and the legality of preventive detention orders under emergency legislation. Many cases of preventive detention did not come up before the Supreme Court due to technical legal procedures and attendant costs of litigation. More importantly in this review of the state of emergency proclaimed in 1962, is the amendment of the Defence of India Act, 1962, after the cessation of hostilities in the Sino-Indian War. By this amendment, the relevant authorities were permitted to apprehend and detain any person suspected of being of hostile origin. This allowed the arrest of any person simply because of a Chinese surname or having a Chinese spouse. It was reported that about 10,000 persons of Chinese origin were detained in various cities across India, and later several thousands were transported to a prison camp in Doeli, Rajasthan.48 The decisions of the Supreme Court of India examined above during India’s first state of emergency between 1962 and 1968 show that the court gave unqualified effect to the procedural impediments which the emergency preventive detention legislation, by implication, cast in the path of any meaningful judicial control of the abuse of executive discretionary powers in matters of preventive detention. As a result, the court avoided defining the parameters of its own role as a constitutional court under the Indian Constitution. The few cases where the Supreme Court upheld challenges to preventive detention were possible because the executive authority voluntarily cooperated by revealing the reasons for its action or where the inadvertence or carelessness of the members of the administration resulted in defects apparent on the text of the detention order.

Conclusion Subsequent to the 1962 state of emergency that was continued until 1968, there were two other proclamations of emergency in India, in 1971 and 1975. In fact there was a continuous period of emergency rule in India from 1971 to 1977.49 During this period, the Indian Supreme Court’s self-denial to exercise the power of judicial review in respect of the declaration of emergency, presidential orders barring the enforcement of fundamental rights and preventive detention that was characteristic during the 1962 emergency was carried out to its logical extremities. On 3 December 1971, the President of India issued a proclamation of emergency on account of the war with Pakistan.50 The Defence of India Act, 1971,51 was enacted that made several significant changes to the Maintenance of Internal Security Act, 1971 (MISA), a preventive detention law that had been enacted by parliament as a permanent statute earlier in the

192  Imtiaz Omar same year.52 Among these changes, preventive detention could be continued for three years; also in certain cases there could not be any reviewability of the detention. The war ended in the same month but the emergency legislation continued in force until 1977. In 1975, there was widespread anti-government political agitation in India. Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, apparently without consulting the cabinet,53 asked the president to proclaim an emergency on the ground that the security of India was threatened by internal disturbances. The proclamation of emergency, which was issued on 26 June 1975,54 inaugurated an era of draconian measures, designed to suppress political dissent and purportedly implemented to bring about fundamental social and political reforms. Since the proclamation of emergency of 1971 was still in operation, no further proclamation was actually required to enable the central government to augment its legislative or executive power. A number of constitutional amendments were soon enacted to ensure the ‘legal’ legitimacy of the regime. First, the Constitution (Thirty-Eighth Amendment) Act, 1975, was adopted so as ‘to remove doubts and make plain that the satisfaction of the president is subjective satisfaction and not justiciable’.55 The new provisions inserted in the constitution by the Constitution (Thirty-Eighth Amendment) Act made it categorical that the president’s ‘satisfaction’ in declaring emergency was ‘final and conclusive’.56 Parliament also approved the Constitution (Thirty-Ninth Amendment) Act, 1975, which precluded the courts from considering cases concerning the election of, among others, the prime minister and the president. During this state of emergency spanning the years 1971–77, the Indian Supreme Court refused to exercise even any residual power of judicial review with respect to the proclamation of emergency, the presidential order passed on proclamation of the emergency and the legality of preventive detention. The landmark Supreme Court decision in Additional ­District Magistrate, Jabalpur v Shivakant Shukla57 highlighted this position. Overall, the judicial inquiry into issues of individual rights and preventive detention during the 1971–77 period of emergency in India was predicated on the perceived need to allow the executive to exercise the full breadth of emergency powers entrusted to it by the constitution, untrammelled by any other considerations. This rationale also extended to the jurisdiction of the courts, which also was to be subordinated, as a matter of course, to the exercise of emergency powers of the executive. The style of interpretation of the Indian Supreme Court during this emergency thus meant that issues of the operation of constitutional rights of citizens were to be treated as wholly subsidiary to the requirements of executive emergency powers. The most disturbing implication of this course of decision-making was the court’s self-denial of any judicial power to compel the executive to comply

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 193 with the substantive requirements of statutes enacted by parliament. This necessarily disturbed the democratic balance in a constitutional system that is predicated on the concept of an executive responsible and accountable to the legislature. A number of significant changes were introduced in the emergency provisions of the Constitution of India by the Constitution (Forty-Fourth Amendment) Act, 1978, adopted very soon after the termination of the last emergency in 1977. Included among the changes in Article 352 is a direct involvement of the Council of Ministers in the decision to proclaim an emergency, removal of the immunity attached to the president’s ‘satisfaction’ to declare an emergency, periodic review by parliament of a proclamation of emergency and its continuation, and the power of parliament to bring about a termination of a state of emergency. As well, the grounds for declaring an emergency have been narrowed. Under the amended provisions of Article 352, a declaration of emergency cannot be made by the president solely on the wishes of the prime minister, such as had happened in 1975. The prospect of the long continuation of a state of emergency, as was the case with the emergencies of 1962 and 1971, also appears to be precluded by the 1978 amendments to the constitution requiring periodic legislative approval of an emergency, and other safeguards. In addition to these new procedural requirements for the initiation and continuation of a proclamation of emergency, a limited number of justiciable issues may also arise from the use of the provisions of Article 352 as amended by the Constitution (Forty-Fourth Amendment) Act, 1978. These justiciable grounds are further indicative of the difficulties that would deter a future Indian government from relying on the expediency of the constitutional emergency provisions for realizing their own partisan objectives. The opportunities in this regard, which were present in 1975, appear to have been curtailed to a significant extent. Another significant constitutional change adopted in 1978, in connection with the operation of a state of emergency, is the exclusion of the fundamental rights in Articles 21 and 22 from the suspensive effect of a presidential order under Article 359 of the constitution. Thus, the means to enforce the right to life and liberty in Article 21, and the safeguards to preventive detention in Article 22 cannot be suspended during an emergency. The amendment to Article 359 of the constitution therefore restricts the power of the state and its agencies to act in derogation of citizens’ rights, during an emergency, and stands in marked contrast to the apparently untrammelled powers previously available under the constitution. A review of the changes introduced in the Indian Constitution by the Constitution (Forty-Fourth Amendment) Act, 1978, indicates that the responsibility

194  Imtiaz Omar for declaring an emergency has been made more broad-based, its duration carefully circumscribed, and the requirements of legislative approval and control elaborately spelt out. Since the revocation, in 1977, of the ‘external’ and ‘internal’ emergencies of 1971 and 1975, respectively, there has not been any proclamation of emergency in India under Article 352 of the constitution. The efficacy of most of the changes brought about by the Constitution (Forty-Fourth Amendment) Act, 1978, has therefore not been tested yet.

Notes 1 Constitution of India, Article 13. 2 Constitution of India, Articles 14–8. 3 Constitution of India, Article 19. 4 Constitution of India, Article 21. 5 Constitution of India, Articles 25–8. 6 Constitution of India, Article 22. 7 B. Shiva Rao, The Framing of India’s Constitution: A Study, New Delhi: Indian Institute of Public Administration, 1968, p. 243. 8 The right to move the Supreme Court for the enforcement of fundamental rights is itself a fundamental right. 9 Constitution of India, Article 352. The Constitution of India also provide for Proclamations of Emergency on account of failure of constitutional machinery in a State (Article 356), and on account of financial crisis (Article 360). 10 Constitution of India, Article 358(1). 11 Constitution of India, Article 359(1). 12 Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 26 October 1962; Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 3 December 1971. 13 Ordinance 4 of 1962, amended on 3 November 1962, by Ordinance 6 of 1962. 14 Defence of India Rules, 1962; Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 6 November 1962. 15 Act 51 of 1962, Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 12 December 1962, p. 49. 16 Promulgated under the authority of the Defence of India Act, 1939 (Act 35 of 1939). 17 G.S.R. 164/3–11–1962. 18 G.S.R./11–11–1962. The Presidential Order of 30 October 1962, unconditionally suspending the right of foreigners to constitutional remedies was also amended to include Article 14, but not until 1965 (G.S.R. 1276/27–8–1965). 19 [1964] A.I.R. (S.C.) 381 at 403. 20 G.S.R. 1418/30–10–1962. 21 [1967] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1335. 22 Act 31 of 1946. 23 G.S.R. 164/3–11–1962. The legislation was originally enacted as the Defence of India Ordinance, 1962 (Ordinance 4 of 1962), and was replaced by an Act of Parliament in December 1962.

Constitution of India and the 1962 war emergency 195 24 Ghulam Sarwar, pp. 1339–40. 25 Ghulam Sarwar, pp. 1340–1. 26 Mohammed Yaqub v State of Jammu and Kashmir, [1968] A.I.R. (S.C.) 765. 27 Mohammed Yaqub, pp. 768–9. 28 The narrow scope of review that the Supreme Court affirmed in Ghulam Sarwar would have had only a limited application, since any question as to the validity of an Order under Article 359(1) necessarily relates only to the initial exercise of the power, and not to the continuance of the legal effect of the Order. Whether or not the continuation of an Order under Article 359(1) is justified is an issue wholly unrelated to the question of the initial validity of the Order in terms of its reasonableness. 29 Makhan Singh Tarsikka v State of Punjab, [1964] A.I.R. (S.C.) 381. 30 One group of these appeals was subsequently decided by the Supreme Court, in favour of the State. See Godavari Shamrao Parulekar v State of Maharashtra, [1964] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1128. 31 Justice Subba Rao, who wrote a separate opinion in which he dissented as to the maintainability of applications under section 491 of the Criminal Procedure Code, concurred with the majority on this point. 32 Makhan Singh, pp. 399–400. 33 See, for example, A.K. Gopalan v State of Madras, [1950] A.I.R. (S.C.) 27. 34 G.S.R. 164/3–11–1962. 35 [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 657. 36 Ibid., at 660. 37 Act 4 of 1950. 38 Province of Bombay v Atma Ram Sridhar Vaidya, [1951] A.I.R. (S.C.) 157; Tarapada De v State of West Bengal, [1951] A.I.R. (S.C.) 174. See also Harikisan v State of Maharashtra, [1962] A.I.R. (S.C.) 911; Icchu Devi v Union of India, [1980] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1983. 39 In P.L. Lakhanpal v Union of India, [1967] A.I.R. (S.C.) 243, for example, the Supreme Court held that the provision made in Rule 30-A of the Defence of India Rules, 1962, for periodic review of detention did not imply a right to make a representation. 40 See, for example, Durgadas Shirali v Union of India, [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1078. Since the detaining authority in this case made the material facts available to the Court, it was possible to give a liberal meaning to the concept of ultra vires. 41 [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 74. 42 [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1140. 43 ‘[S]uch discrepancy . . . can only show an amount of casualness in passing the order of detention against the provisions of s. 44 of the Act’. Ibid., at 1142. 44 [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1925. 45 Ibid., at 1929. 46 [1966] A.I.R. (S.C.) 91. Cf. P.L. Lakhanpal v Union of India, [1967] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1507. 47 See Muhammad Yaqub v State of Jammu and Kashmir, [1968] A.I.R. (S.C.) 766, p. 771. 48 For more information in this matter, see, for example, James Griffiths, ‘India’s forgotten Chinese Internment Camp’, The Atlantic, 9 August 2013. http://www.theatlantic.com/china/archive/2013/08/indias-forgot

196  Imtiaz Omar ten-chinese-internment-camp/278519, accessed 5 May 2015. See also chapters by Payal Banerjee and Amit Das Gupta. 49 Two Proclamations of Emergency were in force during this period. The first was the Proclamation of 1971 on account of war and external aggression, and the second in 1975 during the continuation of the first Proclamation. 50 Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 3 December 1971. 51 Act 42 of 1971, Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 4 December 1971. 52 Act 36 of 1971. The legislation was enacted to replace the Preventive Detention Act, 1950 (Act 4 of 1950), which lapsed in 1969. 53 A.G. Noorani, Prelude to the Emergency, 1977, 213 Seminar, p. 13. 54 Gazette of India, Extraordinary, 26 June 1975. 55 ‘Statement of Objects and Reasons’, reprinted in The Constitution (Amendment) Acts (I to XXXIX), 1975, p. 9. Journal of Constitutional and Parliamentary Studies, 199–293, p. 286. 56 Constitution (Thirty-Eighth Amendment) Act, 1975, clause (5). 57 [1976] A.I.R. (S.C.) 1207.

10 Manufacturing radicals The Sino-Indian War and the repression of communists in India Subho Basu The state repression of left-wing communists in India during the 1962 Sino-Indian War radicalized a substantial segment of activists of the Communist Party of India (CPI), precipitating several splits. Though conventional historiography often viewed these splits through the lens of Sino-Soviet conflict, recently published documents reveal that the very experience of the repression of left-wing communists by the Indian government played a pivotal role in radicalizing grassroots activists, thus hastening the pre-existing schisms and rifts. Indeed, the CPI was deeply divided over the Indian state’s ‘class alignment’ and its own revolutionary strategy – both issues amplified by the 1962 war. While many party leaders had believed for a long time that they should penetrate the Congress Party and steer it towards socialism, a large number of rank-and-file cadres remained committed to agrarian revolution, even though many proponents of that strategy were not Maoists themselves. Furthermore, many communist leaders supported the Indian government’s war efforts, but left-wing activists regarded the conflict with China as a mere border dispute and called for peace. The repression of left-wing communists and the alleged cooperation of some party leaders with Congress in arresting them played a central role in later party splits. This massive repression remains under-explored in the history of the CPI’s radicalization and subsequent fragmentation. Indeed, many left-wing leaders jailed during the Sino-Indian War became convinced of the necessity of revolutionary opposition to the Congress-led central government, and thus opposed their colleagues who supported the war effort and rapprochement with the Congress Party.

The foundation of CPI and the debate over the proper revolutionary line In 1962, the CPI headed towards a split nearly 42 years after its foundation in Soviet Tashkent.1 Though the Sino-Indian War played a crucial role, it

198  Subho Basu was not a straightforward schism between pro-Chinese and pro-Soviet factions. Rather, the split reflected concerns by ‘left-wing’ communists that a section of the party leadership had betrayed them to the Indian government. This distrust was a product of long-standing debate among activists over appropriate revolutionary strategy, centred on the relation between the CPI and India’s ruling political body, the Indian National Congress. This debate had a profound implication for revolutionary strategies as many among those who opposed the Congress remained committed to the cause of agrarian revolution. The government was well aware that the CPI’s left wing opposed its policies, and shrewdly used the faction’s internationalist stance during the Sino-Indian War to suppress it through mass arrests, thus precipitating the crisis of party unity. The debate concerning appropriate revolutionary strategy existed from the CPI’s inception. Indeed, M.N. Roy, a peripatetic nationalist revolutionary-turned Marxist, debated with Vladimir I. Lenin in the Second Congress of the Communist International (Comintern) between 18 July and 20 August 1920 about the revolutionary strategy for decolonization in South Asia. While Lenin argued that the ‘national bourgeoisie’ would lead emancipation movements in ‘backward’ societies, Roy emphasized that the ‘proletariat’ in alliance with the democratic segment of the national bourgeoisie would have precedence.2 Though some historians underestimate the significance of this debate, it had a long life within the Indian communist movement.3 Lenin applied the so-called rule of difference to the colonial context, generating new terms concerning the alignment of the ruling classes and state power. Terms such as ‘semi-feudal’ and ‘semi-colonial’, describing the co-existence of subsistence peasantry with a large and growing industrial sector controlled by colonial capital, were used abundantly in Indian Marxist literature.4 Placing his faith in Marx’s early writings on the working class’s spontaneous revolutionary inclinations, Roy imagined that Indian nationalists were like the Russian populists who had wanted to restore a peasant communitarian society instead of introducing agrarian reforms – an obvious reference to India’s leading nationalist ­Gandhi. Ironically, Lenin had more faith in Gandhi’s revolutionary potential than Roy.5 In real terms, Indian communists sought to determine their relationship with India’s pivotal political organization, the Congress Party. Later, the 3rd Communist International (Comintern) sent Roy to China where he argued for an agrarian revolution against the policy of that institution. He was eventually expelled from the Comintern for his presumed failure in China. Yet these two questions continued to dominate the CPI’s policies throughout its existence. During the interwar years, Indian communists penetrated the miniscule but strategically located labour unions of Bombay, Kanpur and Calcutta.

Manufacturing radicals 199 They established a formidable presence among Bombay’s industrial workers, leading eight general strikes,6 and also attracted sizeable support from railway workers. Yet the CPI could not resolve its relationship with Congress. After the Comintern adopted Bulgarian Georgi Dimitrov’s ‘popular front’ thesis in 1935, the CPI moved to create a left-wing bloc in Indian politics.7 During National Socialist Germany’s invasion of the Soviet Union, the party supported the colonial government’s war efforts and maintained distance from anti-British uprisings, which obviously soured its relationship with Congress. But as a recently legalized organization, the CPI functioned openly and consolidated its position in the trade unions and among certain pockets of the peasantry.8 Throughout 1945–46, the party went on the offensive by taking part in student, labour and peasant uprisings against the etiolating colonial regime. In the princely states of Hyderabad, Travancore and Tripura, peasant rebellions provided a large support base for the party, and Malabar also witnessed mass mobilization.9 Finally, the CPI’s participation in a local peasant movement in Bengal transformed the communists from a small group into a mass political formation in the region.10 In 1947, in the twilight years of colonialism, P.C. Joshi, CPI General secretary since 1935, advocated an alliance with Congress whereby the communists could influence its direction. Indeed, Gandhi’s assassination in early 1948 prompted Joshi to contend that communists should defend the Nehru government.11 The Soviet comrades proposed a more radical line, however. Andrei A. Zhdanov, in his report to the inaugural meeting of the Soviet-sponsored Communist Information Bureau (Cominform) in September 1947, called for armed struggle in India.12 But two years earlier, on 24 April 1945, the Chinese communist leader Mao Zedong had stressed that there should be an alliance of ‘anti-feudal’ and ‘anti-imperialist’ forces for a ‘New Democratic Revolution’. Mao’s argument was regarded as an implicit recognition of a two-stage revolution. The first stage would abolish feudalism and monopoly capitalism to allow for the development of a socialist revolution.13 In the midst of these international debates, the 1948 Calcutta Congress chose B.T. Ranadive to replace Joshi as general secretary of the CPI. Basing its evaluation of Indian politics on Zhdanov’s report, the Calcutta Congress called for armed revolution. Ranadive believed in Soviet-style urban insurrections led by the working classes with the backing of the rural proletariat,14 but his strategy failed miserably and isolated the party in subsequent years.15 However, in 1946–47, South Indian communist leaders, drawing strength from the peasant rebellion in Telangana, opened new debates about the concept of revolution. As the communist-led peasant rebellion expanded, regional leaders demanded a reconsideration of the party line.16 Known as the Andhra faction after the region, the Telangana movement’s

200  Subho Basu leaders, such as C. Rajeswara Rao and P. Sundarayya, demanded from the CPI to mobilize all peasants, including rich ones allied with the middleclass urban bourgeoisie, against India’s residual feudalism.17 They explicitly stated that Mao’s Chinese insurgency was their model and that India required a two-stage revolution. Even P.C. Joshi defended the Chinese position and wrote a long letter to Stalin on that matter.18 In response, Ranadive penned an article for the party’s newspaper Communist, retorting that Mao’s New Democratic Revolution was anti-Marxist. He implicitly compared Mao with Yugoslav leader Josip Broz Tito and the American communist leader Earl Browder, both considered Marxist heretics.19 As the government suppressed the Telangana uprising, the newly banned CPI became dysfunctional because of its premature attempt to organize a revolution.20 Meanwhile, in early June 1949, Pravda published an article by Liu Shaoqi titled ‘Internationalism and Nationalism’, highlighting the necessity of an alliance with the national bourgeoisie to promote revolution in China. Liu emphasized continuing urban political activity, both legal and underground, but he also asserted the requirement of armed struggle.21 By the summer of 1949, the Soviet party approved of his thesis of ‘four class alliance’ (incorporating four anti-imperial classes in China) and Mao’s two-stage revolution.22 Ranadive was soon removed as general secretary and replaced by Rao from Telangana. The ideological implication of this change was clear – the party would have to rethink its revolutionary strategy. After making an assessment of the current situation, the Andhra leaders, who had strong local support, apologized to the Chinese Communist Party (CCP) for Ranadive’s criticism of Mao. The party now adopted what it termed the ‘two stages of revolution’,23 but Rao’s continued failures to organize armed rural uprisings led to further internal debates and leadership struggles. The issue of agrarian revolution became the bone of contention between different party groups. S.A. Dange, the veteran trade union leader from Bombay, openly opposed the CPI’s official policy; a new faction called ‘Party Headquarter Group’ started publishing a journal criticizing agrarian revolution.24 In 1951, a delegation comprised of proponents from all factions visited Moscow at the invitation of the Communist Party of the Soviet Union (CPSU), where Stalin categorically told them that Chinese communists had a tactical advantage due to the combination of underdeveloped rural infrastructure and control over a well-trained army. But more importantly, he advised Indian communists not to replicate the CCP’s strategies in India. He further counselled them to participate in electoral politics.25 After discussion, the CPI adopted a draft manifesto and a new tactical line.26 While claiming adherence to the long-term goal of armed revolution, the short-term situation was declared not conducive towards

Manufacturing radicals 201 revolutionary uprising. Both Ranadive and Rao were criticized for their support of attempted armed insurrections. Ajay Ghosh became general secretary in April 1951 as a compromise candidate.27 Within the party, individual and factional allegiances were fluid as numerous shifts in the early 1950s took place among groups based upon localized interpretations and analyses of international events. The communists remained divided on whether an alliance with the progressive bourgeoisie should come from above, from the party leaders, or from below, through the revolutionary mobilization of agricultural workers, small peasants or the industrial proletariat. Simultaneously, there existed a dispute about the political strategy. While many favoured remaining within parliamentary politics, others supported peasant revolutionary action to seize political power.28 These debates occurred under the influence of the Chinese Revolution, though Indian leaders had no direct, independent connections with the CCP and little understanding of Maoism’s evolving doctrine.29 Even Ajay Ghosh, apparently pro-Soviet, was uncomfortable with the ongoing de-Stalinization in the Soviet Union which was heavily criticized in China. At the CPI’s Palghat Congress in 1956, Ghosh referred to a Chinese People’s Daily article, ‘On the Historical Experience of the Dictatorship of Proletariat’, as the correct evaluation of Stalin.30 At the same time, Ghosh was also deeply dismayed with Soviet suppression of the Hungarian revolution.31 On the 40th anniversary of the Bolshevik Revolution in 1957, the CPSU not only advised the CPI to participate in elections, but also urged it to build an underground apparatus capable of armed struggle – a suggestion opposed by Ghosh and the other Indian delegates. It was under Soviet pressure that CPI leaders apparently agreed to develop connections with the Indian Army and to build an armed underground apparatus in case the struggle required it.32

Move towards parliamentary democracy and the new struggles within the CPI Despite their limited strength, the communists emerged as the secondlargest party in the 1951 Indian parliament. The transformation from a limited secret society-style organization to a regionally entrenched mass party intensified the CPI’s ideological debate about allying with Congress. Leaders also struggled to address the party’s parliamentary role while remaining committed to ‘national democratic’ revolution. As early as 1950 Rajani Palme Dutt, a British communist and Indian political analyst, informed the CPI of the Soviet bloc’s warming attitude towards Jawaharlal Nehru in the wake of his conceptualization of non-alignment and his attempted mediation in the Korean War (1950–53).

202  Subho Basu He maintained that Nehru had demonstrated support for world peace though he admitted that the prime minister still vacillated in his commitment to the ‘anti-imperialist bloc’. Dutt proposed the communists render pressure on Congress to continue peace-building efforts and fight against the ‘reactionary pro-imperialist section of the Indian bourgeoisie’,33 clearly hinting the CPI should support Nehru’s foreign policy. Still smarting from the government’s repression of their abortive revolution, the CPI Congress in October 1951 instead took a negative view. In 1954, those leaning towards Congress identified American imperialism as the main enemy, but the Andhra leaders characterized British imperialism and its indigenous agents, such as Nehru and the Congress leadership, as the principal adversary.34 As both the Soviet Union and particularly China drew closer to India in 1954, veteran communist P. Ramamurthy wrote an article in the CPI weekly New Age discussing a united front against imperialism. Militant party activists who were committed to agrarian revolution protested against the article because it implied side-lining land reforms and uniting with Congress for the sake of foreign policy goals.35 In the summer of 1956, the Soviet comrades published a two-part article in New Times arguing Nehru would guide India towards socialism – something Ghosh objected vehemently.36 The Bengal, Andhra and Punjab party branches were sceptical of the Soviet stance and criticized their central leaders for alleged subservience to Congress. In contrast, many of their counterparts in trade union and parliamentary politics admired Nehru.37 Those favouring a parliamentary path gained the upper hand when the CPI won the 1957 Kerala state elections. The party now eschewed policies of intensifying labour and peasant struggles in order to attract investment into Kerala. This policy dissatisfied the radicals within the party. For example, they could not demand nationalization of industries without compensation or the establishment of Indian control over foreign assets because the Kerala government invited the Birla family, a large Indian industrial house, to invest in paper production and offered them discounted land to set up a factory. While Chief Minister E.M.S. Namboodiripad urged trade unions to cooperate with factory owners to increase productivity, West Bengal leader Bhupesh Gupta attacked his comrade’s new democratic, non-capitalist path to socialism.38 In such a context, the divergence of opinion between the CCP and the CPSU came on the Indian communists’ radar. In 1958, the CCP leadership condemned the Kerala experiment’s ‘pernicious impact’ on Indian communists. Meanwhile, the communist government in Kerala fell when Congress organized a powerful movement against the secular education policy adopted by the communists.39 The central government soon suspended the state government on the grounds of deteriorating security, and imposed Governor’s Rule. Thereafter, the CPI became increasingly polarized on two issues: the proper attitude towards

Manufacturing radicals 203 Congress (or the ‘national bourgeoisie’) and the efficacy of accessing power by parliamentary means. Yet, these schisms still were not manifestations of pro-Chinese and pro-Soviet forces within the party. P.C. Joshi called for a united front between CPI and Congress. Ranadive, who had earlier criticized Mao, remained opposed to an alliance – a position shared by the Bengal, Punjab and Andhra party units. In the midst of this growing polarization, many members occupied an amorphous centrist position. Also, the CPSU did not adopt a consistent opinion of the Nehru government, briefly turning against him in 1958.40 In Delhi in February 1958, a Soviet official advised CPI leaders to establish an underground organization and, though Ajay Ghosh refused, left-wing communist leaders like Harkishan Singh Surjeet, M. Basvapunniah and P. Sundaryya approached Moscow on that issue. The CPI even sought to establish secret connections within the army.41 As Chinese leaders communicated their suspicion of the Kerala experiment to Ajay Ghosh in 1958, left-wing communists became attracted to China.42 Indeed, when Ajay Ghosh led a delegation to Moscow for the 21st Congress of the CPSU in January 1959, the growing Sino-Soviet rift was evident. The Soviet hosts advised the CPI to soften its attitude towards Nehru, but China’s Prime Minister Zhou Enlai recommended the party to harden its stance on that matter.43

Border tension and the CPI The relationship between India and China took a turn for the worse after India granted the Dalai Lama asylum. In April 1959, Chinese Ambassador Pan Zili requested a meeting with the CPI leaders. At this occasion Ranadive advised him not to criticize Nehru personally but to decry the right-wing political parties in India.44 Meanwhile, the CPI witnessed an intensification of the ideological conflicts between supporters of alliance with the progressive bourgeoisie and proponents of militant peasant movements from below. Both camps responded to the growing international tensions between India and China in different ways. In May 1959, the more radical West Bengal state committee claimed in a booklet that Tibet was an integral part of China.45 Yet on 23 August 1959, the veteran trade unionist and leader of the CPI parliamentary party Dange told the ­Maharashtra provincial party committee that the CPI should state openly that the McMahon Line was a valid border in the eastern sector.46 As border tensions increased, CPI leaders felt that a Sino-Indian confrontation might provoke attacks on the party and contribute to its ­political isolation within India. In August 1959 Ghosh, still general secretary of the CPI, along with Ranadive, asked the CCP to soften its differences with India on the border issue. Their jointly written letter focused on settling the issue peacefully and asked China to refrain from blanket allegations like

204  Subho Basu ‘Indian imperialists’ and instead direct criticism towards right-wing political parties such as the Jan Sangh, but the Chinese leaders ignored it.47 On 30 August 1959, the CPI National Secretariat confirmed that the border dispute should be resolved peacefully. Referring to right-wing Indian political parties, the secretariat claimed that ‘enemies of freedom and peace’ were exploiting these unfortunate occurrences to embitter friendly relations between the two countries’.48 Soon several political parties vehemently criticized the CPI for adopting a stand not in harmony with the government of India.49 Alarmed by such hostile environment, Ghosh visited Beijing on 9 September 1959 with the goal of reducing tensions. In a meeting with Chinese leaders, he explained how the border dispute would cause anti-communist reactions in India, contributing to the CPI’s isolation. Ignoring his pleas, the Chinese informed Ghosh that Nehru was the ‘running dog’ of American imperialism and that the CPI should side with China, or its right wing would be ‘absorbed by the right wing reactionary forces’.50 The situation changed radically on 21 October 1959 when a number of Indian policemen died in a border clash with Chinese forces. Dange condemned the incident and publicly dubbed Chinese policy towards India as erroneous. He further asked for the McMahon Line to be regarded as the basis for negotiations over the border.51 Dange’s statement became the source of contention within the party and sharpened the polarization between supporters of the national progressive bourgeoisie and advocates of militant action from below. The National Council, the CPI’s highest decision-making body, remained in the hands of those who tended to support an alliance with Nehru. From 11 to 15 November 1959, the CPI National Council held a meeting, thereafter declaring that, regardless of the historical backgrounds of the McMahon Line, it had demarcated India’s border for a long time and territories to the south of the line had come under Indian administration for a lengthy period.52 This was not to the liking of the left-wing radicals within the party. Soon party members in Bengal took a different stand.53 On 23 November 1959, preeminent Bengali communist leader Jyoti Basu cautioned the ‘Indian people’ to guard themselves against reactionary forces exploiting the border dispute. He maintained that this dispute could only be resolved through immediate peaceful discussions between the Chinese and Indian prime ministers.54

The war, declaration of emergency and the repression of the communists Ideological conflicts among different fractions of the CPI intensified with the growing tensions between India and China. The dispute became critically intertwined with inner party debates over revolutionary strategy.

Manufacturing radicals 205 Throughout the 1960s, those who supported militant action from below felt that the border dispute should be resolved peacefully. But those who were wedded to the thesis of an alliance with progressive bourgeoisie sought to rally the party behind Nehru.55 At the Vijayawada Congress of the CPI in 1961 a heated debate over the idea of including the progressive section of the Congress in a broad united front of workers and peasants occurred. To avoid further intensifying the dispute within the party the Congress scrupulously refrained from discussing Sino-Indian relations. Yet at the beginning of 1962, the emerging bilateral tensions warranted attention from the party. It was at this crucial juncture that Ghosh, the general secretary of the CPI, passed away on 13 January 1962. Since Ghosh had maintained a balance among various factions, the party now lacked such a leader. Dange became the chairman of the party, and to placate his critics, N ­ amboodiripad, a centrist like Ghosh, was appointed general secretary. Meanwhile, the tensions between India and China intensified even further and, in a resolution on 17 October 1962, the CPI stated that Chinese troops had crossed the ­McMahon Line and now India had a right to defend itself. But it was too late. On 20 October, the border war started with a large-scale Chinese attack. The party became deeply divided between those who supported Nehru and dubbed the war as Chinese aggression and those who regarded it as a mere border dispute which should be resolved through negotiations. The latter came to be known as internationalists. On 28 October 1962, the central government promulgated the ‘Defence of India Ordinance’ which contained provisions for detention without trial.56 On 26 November, a Congress member in parliament proposed the detention of communists in special concentration camps though it was never actualized in practice. But Lal Bahadur Shastri, the home minister, declared that the state could keep people under detention only for national security reasons.57 For nearly six years India was under an emergency regime whereby governing elites at various levels armed themselves with a variety of coercive powers.58 Under its provisions, the central government soon decided to arrest the internationalist segment in the CPI. Nearly 900 leaders, including 40 members of various provincial assemblies and 10 MPs were arrested.59 Many more were evicted from their homes through systematic vigilante attacks by Congress members while the rest of the CPI simply went underground.60 In their West Bengal stronghold, left-wing leaders were immediately arrested, and the entire party secretariat was imprisoned without trial for over a year.61 The Bengal government also confiscated the CPI journals’ printing machines, and in some instances banned their publication altogether. In the midst of such state repression, on 1 November 1962, the CPI National Council which was dominated by members loyal to Dange passed a resolution expressing

206  Subho Basu surprise that a socialist country would attack a friendly democratic neighbour like India which was consolidating its newfound independence and followed a non-aligned foreign policy.62 The resolution caused disputes within the party as it was passed without any input from party members who were in jail.63 The state authorities continued to arrest communist leaders even after China announced a unilateral ceasefire on 20 November 1962. Many among the communists believed that the Dange-led faction had sent the central government a list of those who had demanded a peaceful solution of the border dispute.64 Manikuntala Sen, a pioneering woman leader of the CPI, bitterly recorded in her autobiography how she had been told by some young activists that her husband Jolly Kaul had supposedly revealed their names to the police. Shocked by this allegation, both Sen and Kaul left the party and retired from politics.65 The CCP also asserted that the CPI leadership betrayed their ‘internationalist comrades’ to the police.66 The debate among leaders continued in the jails. From the prison in Dum Dum, Basu, by no means a radical, dispatched a clandestine note to his Bengal comrades calling on them to fight reformism and sectarianism. He argued that Nehru had not become an imperialist agent and that China was wrong on many ideological issues within international communism, but stressed that Nehru’s policies had strengthened the forces of right reaction in India. Supported by leading communists in Bengal, he pleaded for the continuation of a newly staffed underground apparatus, but also warned that the party would become a regional Bengali organization if national unity was not preserved.67 Yet the state repression radicalized grassroots members,68 leading various factions to issue clandestinely political leaflets. Samar Mukherjee, a senior Bengali leader, published a new thesis regarding the party’s tasks. The document declared that war would put a financial burden on the Indian people, strengthen imperialism and undermine Afro-Asian solidarity. It stressed China’s honourable position among Afro-Asian nations due to its firm anti-imperialist stand, while simultaneously criticizing its opposition to nuclear disarmament. Finally, a lasting peaceful solution would supposedly facilitate socialism’s progress in the Afro-Asian world. The document’s theoretical cornerstone was the four contradictions identified by the meeting of the world’s communist parties in Moscow in late 1960. These contradictions occurred between socialism and imperialist capitalism, between proletariat and bourgeoisie in developed capitalist societies, and between oppressed nationalities and imperialism, while there were also factional squabbles among imperialists and monopoly capitalist cartels. The main difference between the Bengali leaders and their CPI rivals was over the primacy of class struggle and commitment to ‘proletarian leadership’ in the socialist struggle.69

Manufacturing radicals 207 Thus, though the Sino-Indian War was critical to the split, the main bone of contention concerned the CPI’s relationship with Congress. Some party leaders believed that the national bourgeoisie contained progressives, represented by Nehru’s Congress faction, and that the duty of the communists was to align with such forces. In direct opposition, left-wing communists rejected an alliance with Congress though they theoretically never denied the existence of a ‘progressive’ national bourgeoisie. Finally, the internationalists believed in an undiluted ideology of class struggle and proletarian internationalism. The Indian government’s repression transformed ideological differences into personalized disputes. In the communist stronghold of West Bengal, national front supporters capitalized on the absence of more militant internationalists to capture the organization from them. From jail, the various members of the internationalist faction labelled such proponents ‘social democrats’ who had compromised the proletariat’s interests.70 The long imprisonment without trial, contrary to clear evidence of their opposition to China, embittered internationalists against the CPI headquarters and Congress. In the midst of intense ideological struggles within the party, many leaders were released at the beginning of 1964, after a year of imprisonment without trial. Soon thereafter, on 11 April 1964, the CPI’s national council met. The meeting witnessed acrimonious debates. Thirty-two members of the National Council walked out and eventually held a convention in Tenali, Andhra Pradesh, from 7 to 11 July 1964. This break-away faction decided to plan a national conference of radical communists in Calcutta between 31 October and 7 November 1964 at the same time as the CPI’s own 7th Congress. In Calcutta they even formed a new party named Communist Party of India (Marxist) (CPI (M)). Yet the process was not smooth. Intense debates about the party’s analysis of the nature of class character of the Indian state and about the role of class struggle in the party’s political strategies took place. Indeed, one of the later Maoist groups, the ‘revolutionary council’, originated in1964 from within the CPI (M).71 It was far from certain what would be the new party’s ideological position in relation to the idea of agrarian revolution though officially party leader Namboodiripad stressed that the party would neither side with the Soviets or the Chinese. Meanwhile, throughout 1964, and particularly in 1965, India faced an unprecedented food crisis. By 1966, Congress also had to grapple with the successive deaths of two of its veteran leaders, Nehru and Shastri. ­Popular discontent against Congress rule became widespread. When the 2nd ­Kashmir War broke out in 1965, the government again arrested communists and placed them in jail without trial. During this time, the ‘internationalist’, left-wing communist Charu Majumdar, a leader from West Bengal,

208  Subho Basu started studying Maoism in jail.72 The imprisonment without trial radicalized his political views. In a pamphlet from 28 January 1966, Majumdar had already bemoaned that ‘[t]he Congress government has arrested one thousand communists during the last one month. Most of central and provincial leadership are in jail today’. According to him, India’s Home ­Minister, Gulzarilal Nanda, had suspended constitutional democracy because of capitalism’s internal and international crisis. He also accused the Indian government of gradually becoming the chief political partner in the hegemonic global expansion of American imperialism.73 State repression radicalized communist internationalists like him who increasingly gravitated towards Maoism. By branding some communists as ‘pro-Chinese’, Congress directed this group’s attention to more radical ideologies like Maoism. Thus, state-attributed categories were appropriated by the political actors themselves as a critical tool of confrontation. This latter faction launched a movement in West Bengal in March 1966 demanding subsidized prices for food.74 Ironically, the repression unleashed by Congress to suppress the hunger marchers convinced their leaders to pursue further radical political action. Meanwhile, in the general election of 1967, Congress failed to win elections in populous states like Uttar Pradesh, Bihar and West Bengal. In West Bengal the two communist parties along with dissident Congress leaders formed a United Front Government, in which the CPI (M) had a substantial representation. As a political party, it contained both newly indoctrinated Maoists such as Majumdar and veteran parliamentary politicians like Basu and Namboodiripad. The CPI (M)’s election victory in West Bengal intensified the debate over the strategies of agrarian revolution. While parliamentarians such as Basu persuaded the CPI (M) to join the government, many radicals wanted to use the opportunity to launch armed agrarian revolution. Majumdar played a pivotal role among the left in the CPI (M) in the rebellion in Darjeeling, where he was the secretary of the district party committee. Located on West Bengal’s frontier with both Nepal and East Pakistan, Darjeeling District was dotted with British-owned tea plantations worked by adivasi peasants who were recruited in the colonial era as indentured labourers. When the CPI (M)-influenced United Front came to power in West Bengal, Majumdar started a radical land reform movement in the precinct of Naxalbari police station on 20 May 1967. The rebellion, known as the Naxalite Revolution and led by radical CPI (M) members, soon became a Maoist insurgency.75 The West Bengal government despatched paramilitary forces to suppress the movement. Maoist sympathizers within the CPI (M) responded by building up a new organization called Coordination Committee of Communist Revolutionaries. Many members of the newly formed organization were influenced by ideas of People’s War

Manufacturing radicals 209 as explained by Chinese Defence Minister Lin Biao in an article in Peking Review.76 The CCP welcomed the Naxalbari uprising as a spring thunder over India in a broadcast, later published as an editorial in People’s Daily.77 This editorial sparked a student revolt in the CPI (M) and led to much criticism of the leaders of the party on 14 June 1967, on the eve of its politbureau meeting. On 28 June 1967, however, the CPI (M) leadership removed Maoist leaders from their weekly periodical Wellwishers of the country (Desh Hitaishi). The Darjeeling district committee was dissolved, and Maoists like Majumdar were expelled from the party. This led to the third split in 1969, when Maoists formed their own party called Communist Party of India (Marxist-Leninist) (CPI (M-L)) on 1 May. Majumdar’s conversion to Maoism in jail now became the ideological resource of new armed guerrilla movement in West Bengal, Bihar and Uttar Pradesh, and the agrarian struggle reached its height in the Srikakulam district of Andhra Pradesh. Yet the movement did not become an all-encompassing agrarian revolutionary organization. Rather, fractional disputes, organizational weaknesses, lack of coordination among leaders, and strategies of terrorist attacks dominated the party. As the movement lost popular support, state repression wiped out the first phase of the rebellion. Ultimately, the mass arrests without trial in the wake of Sino-Indian and India-Pakistan conflicts convinced those Indian communists who were engaged in parliamentary politics that capitalism was in crisis.78 In turn, this led to further violence, undermining the democratic processes even more.

Conclusion Events in communist parties and organizations abroad deeply influenced the CPI. Within the party, debates over the strategic efficacy of organizing an agrarian revolution in India emerged early on. However, dominated by middle-class intellectuals and trade unionists, the party remained wedded to democratic parliamentary norms. The path of parliamentary democracy provided it with access to power in state elections. At the national level, despite fierce internal debates over alliance with the ‘national bourgeoisie’ (or Congress), it became the largest parliamentary opposition group. During the Sino-Indian War, the Indian government suppressed the left-wing communists, claiming that they were Chinese-aligned revolutionaries and thus enemies of the nation. Ironically, many of the left-wing communists were actually asking for a peaceful resolution of the ‘border dispute’. However, the very repressive measures adopted by the government not only succeeded in splitting the CPI, but also directed many members to Maoism, convincing them it was the most effective method for the ‘seizure of power’. This obviously undermined a long-term process of drawing most of

210  Subho Basu the CPI into the parliamentary system. The repression ironically attracted some communists to a violent revolutionary confrontation with the state. The Sino-Indian War, coming against the background of the Cold War and the Sino-Soviet rivalry, brought Indian domestic politics to the conflict’s centre stage in Asia for a brief period between 1959 and 1964. The repression unleashed a violent revolution that the Indian state could only eradicate through further repression. Since 1967, Maoism has remained a significant force in Indian politics, while China, the ideology’s birthplace, jettisoned such projects in search of state capitalist development. The lesson was clear: a regime operating within a constitutional democratic framework could ill afford to violate the very principles that it claimed to represent. From 1962 onwards, the state used external conflicts to suppress internal democracy. Yet, ironically, as the liberal democracy armed itself with such coercive power, the very acts of coercions generated radical forms of resistance. The near permanent emergency of the 1960s gave birth to political violence and convinced various groups of radicals that democratic regime shredded the democratic possibilities of transformative politics. They came to believe that social and economic inequities embedded in the structure of the society could only be removed through a violent revolution from below. The transition of the parliamentary CPI into the radical CPI (M-L) thus cannot be fully understood without the emergency.

Notes 1 John Kautsky, Moscow and the Communist Party of India, New York: MIT Press, 1956; Sengupta Bhabani, Communism in Indian Politics, New York: Columbia University Press, 1972. 2 John P. Haithcox, ‘The Roy-Lenin debate on colonial policy: a new interpretation’, The Journal of Asian Studies, 23(1), (November 1963), pp. 93–101; Communism and Nationalism in India: M.N. Roy and Comintern Policy, Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1971; Sanjay Seth, Marxist Theory and the Nationalist Politics: The Case of Colonial India, New Delhi: Sage, 1995. 3 Anil Biswas, ‘Our story’, in Anil Biswas, Robin Deb, Shyamal Chakrabarty, Dilip Banerjee, Sorol Biswas and Anridhu Chakrabarty (eds.), Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya [The Communist Movement in Bengal, Documents and Information], vol. 3, Kolkata: National Book Agency, 2004, p. 8. 4 Alice Thorner, ‘Semi-feudalism or capitalism? Contemporary debate on classes and modes of production in India’, Economic and Political Weekly, 17(49), (4 December 1982), pp. 1961–8. 5 Haithcox, ‘The Roy-Lenin debate’, p. 98. 6 Raj Chandavarkar, Imperial Power and Popular Politics: Class, Resistance and the State in India, (1850–1950), Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994, pp. 100–101.

Manufacturing radicals 211 7 Jayabrata Sarkar, ‘Power, hegemony and politics: leadership struggle in Congress in the 1930s’, Modern Asian Studies, 40(2), (May 2006), pp. 333–70. 8 Subho Basu and Auritro Majumdar, ‘Dilemmas of parliamentary communism: the rise and fall of the Left in West Bengal’, Critical Asian Studies, 45(2), (May 2013), pp. 167–200. 9 Jonathan Kennedy and Sunil Purushotham, ‘Beyond Naxalbari: a comparative analysis of Maoist insurgency and counterinsurgency in independent India’, Comparative Studies in Society and History, 54(4), (October 2012), pp. 832–62; Manali Desai, ‘Indirect British rule, state formation, and welfarism in Kerala, India, 1860–1957’, Social Science History, 29(3), (Fall 2005), pp. 457–88; Harihar Bhattacharyya, ‘Communism, nationalism and tribal question in Tripura’, Economic and Political Weekly, 25(39), (29 September 1990), pp. 2209–14; Dilip Menon, Caste, Nationalism and Communism in South India: Malabar, 1900–1948, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1994. 10 Adrienne Cooper, Sharecropping and Sharecropper’s Struggles in Bengal, 1930–1950, Calcutta: K.P. Bagchi, 1988; Manali Desai, ‘From movement to party to government: why social policies in Kerala and West Bengal are so different?’, in Jack Goldstone (ed.), States, Parties and Social Movements, Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2003, pp. 192–3; Sekhar Bandopadhayay, Decolonization in South Asia: Meanings of Freedom in Post-Independence West Bengal, 1947–52, London: Routledge, 2009, pp. 106–7. 11 Bipan Chandra, ‘P.C. Joshi: a political journey’, Mainstream, 44(1), http:// www.mainstreamweekly.net/article503.html, accessed 24 April 2015. 12 CIA Released Document, ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet dispute’, 7 February 1962, pp. 2–3, http://www.foia.cia.gov/document/ report-indian-communist-party-and-sino-soviet-dispute-7-february-1962, accessed 22 July 2014. 13 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 6. 14 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 5. 15 ‘Review of few movements in the self-critical report of Calcutta District Committee’, date unknown [circa 1950], in Manju Kumar Majumdar and Bhanudev Dutta (eds.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Ithas Anusondhan [The History of Communist Movement in Bengal], vol. 5, Kolkata: Manisha, 2010, pp. 740–92; ‘The resolution of the Provincial Organizing Committee on fraction and bureau’, in Anil Biswas (ed.), Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil O Prasgonkik Tathyo [The Communist Movement in Bengal: Documents and Relevant Information], vol. 2, Kolkata: National Book Agency, 2003, pp. 316–19. 16 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, pp. 5–6. 17 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 5. 18 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, pp. 11–12. 19 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 7. 20 Discussing a circular from the CPI Central Committee in Calcutta comrade Sukhen and comrade Mahesh (pseudonyms) argued that the party was not in a position to organize armed struggle in any part of India outside Telengana region and these leaders emphasized on long-term work among peasants. See: ‘The opinion of the provincial committee on the letter from

212  Subho Basu the central committee (30 October 1950)]’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas Anusondhan, vol. 6, p. 341. 21 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, pp. 10–11. 22 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, pp. 11–12. 23 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 14. 24 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 15. 25 Ronen Sen, ‘The meeting between Ahay Ghosh and Stalin’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas Anusondhan, vol. 6, pp. 386–7. 26 ‘The Attempt to remove Differences of Opinion within the Communist Party’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas Anusondhan, vol. 6, pp. 372–3. 27 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 16. 28 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 53. 29 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 45. 30 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 33. 31 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 34. 32 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 42. 33 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 19. 34 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 20. 35 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 23. 36 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 37. 37 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 27. 38 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 41. 39 Rmachandra Guha, India after Gandhi: The History of World’s Largest Democracy, New York: HarperCollins, 2007, pp. 297–300. 40 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 46. 41 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 42. 42 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 44. 43 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 44. 44 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 57. 45 Communist Party of India West Bengal State committee, ‘About Tibet’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, pp. 583–604. 46 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 60. 47 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 60. 48 ‘Incidents on Himalayan Border: Statement by the Secretariat of the National Council of the CPI, New Delhi, 30 August 1959’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas, vol. 12, pp. 457–8. 49 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 66. 50 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 64. 51 Times of India, 26 October 1959 and Link, 1 November 1959. 52 ‘Relentless struggle and international conference’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas, vol. 11, pp. 24–5. 53 Hindustan Times, 25 October 1959. 54 Ibid. 55 ‘The Indian Communist Party and the Sino-Soviet Dispute’, p. 66. 56 See chapter by Imtiaz Omar. 57 Benjamin N. Schoenfeld, ‘Emergency rule in India’, Pacific Affairs, 36(3), (Autumn 1963), pp. 221–31. 58 ‘Unending Emergency’, Economic and Political Weekly, 8(49), pp. 2151–2.

Manufacturing radicals 213 59 ‘Third General Election and increased crisis within the party’, Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas, vol. 12, p. 26. 60 ‘Third General Election and the intensification of crisis of unity within the party’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas, vol. 12, pp. 25–6. 61 Ibid., p. 25. 62 ‘National Emergency arising out of Chinese aggression: CPI Council resolution adopted after the Chinese attack’, Mainstream, vol. 44, 20 October 2012. 63 Bhupesh Gupta declared that ‘the continuation of this conflict will disrupt the Afro-Asian solidarity, weaken the common struggle against imperialism and for national independence and will harm the cause of world peace’, in Majumdar (ed.), Banglar Communist Andoloner Itihas, vol. 12, pp. 404–14. 64 Biswas, ‘Our story’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 4, p. 11. 65 Mani Kuntala Sen, Sediner Katha [A Tale of Yester Years], Calcutta: ­Nabapatra, 1982, p. 112. 66 Biswas, ‘Our story’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, p. 1. 67 Jyoti Basu, ‘Save the party from Reformists and Conservative Sectar ian Adventurists’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, pp. 159–61. 68 ‘Intelligence Department File dated 25.01.63 and 11.11.63’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, pp. 161–2. 69 Pritviraj [Pseudonynm for Samar Mukherjee], ‘Serious crisis ahead for the party’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, pp. 165–84. 70 ‘Historic Appeal of the 32 members of the National Council of CPI to the members and the fellow travellers of the CPI: Avoid Dange Clique’, Banglar Communist Andolon Dolil o Tathya, vol. 3, pp. 321–6. 71 CPI(M) Party Archives, Kolkata. ‘Why the ultra-left deviation? An examination of the basic causes of the left defections with special reference to Andhra Pradesh’, document adopted by the CPI(M) Central Committee at its meeting held from 5–9 October 1968 in Calcutta. 72 For a brief life sketch of Charu Majumdar see Nadeem Ahmed, ‘Charu Majumdar: The father of Indian Naxalism’, Hindustan Times, 15 D ­ ecember 2005, http://www.hindustantimes.com/india/charu-majumdar-thefather-of-naxalism/story-xMbqnzd7MJp8nm4NamCxqJ.html, accessed 14 July 2014. 73 ‘Our tasks in the present situation (28 January 1965] – First Document, Selected works of Comrade Charu Majumdar Eight Documents, http:// cm-works.blogspot.ca/2007/09/our-tasks-in-present-situation-28th. html, accessed 15 July 2014. Note, the website misdates the document in 1965; it was written in 1966. 74 Dayabati Ray, Rural Politics in India: Political Stratification and Governance in Bengal, New Delhi: Cambridge University Press, 2014, p. 52. 75 ‘A spring thunder over India’, People’s Daily, 5 July 1967. Reproduced in Liberation, I(1), (November 1967), https://www.marxists.org/ subject/china/documents/peoples-daily/1967/07/05.htm, accessed 21 July 2014.

214  Subho Basu 76 Lin Biao, ‘Long live the victory of People’s War’, Peking Review, 3 September 1965. 77 ‘A spring thunder over India’. 78 Charu Majumdar, ‘Make the People’s Democratic Revolution successful by fighting against Revisionism (Second Document)’, https://ajadhind.wordpress.com/historic-documents-charu-mazumdar/, accessed 15 July 2014.

11 The Chinese in India Internment, nationalism, and the embodied imprints of state action Payal Banerjee The Sino-Indian War in 1962 inaugurated a specific form of ethnic nationalism in India, one that mobilized a range of anti-Chinese sentiments and, over time, codified them into state policies. This nationalism targeted both an external neighbour (China) as well as India’s ethnic Chinese as hostile enemies. The Indian state systematically cultivated this ethnic nationalism and, in so doing, implemented a range of policies that discriminated against, disenfranchised and specifically targeted India’s Chinese community – a community that included Indian citizens. Thus, a series of ordinances, special orders, and citizenship policy reforms institutionalized by the Indian state brought a new status for those of Chinese origin in India; they were now deemed as ‘aliens’ affiliated with an enemy nation. The state’s unequivocal codification of exclusions and expulsions were thus stamped on to the blue-print of national belonging through a suspension of various civil liberties, mass arrests, revocation of citizenship papers, deportation, and finally, internment in detention camps and jails. In addition, the felonious conduct of ordinary Indian citizens against the Chinese – public harassment, larceny, arson, physical assault, even homicide – constituted the ‘extra-judicial’ corollaries of the state’s discriminatory actions. The Chinese minority in India was thus subjected to a complex web of violent dispossession organized around a nascent but surprisingly coherent anti-Chinese nationalism.1 Yet, little attention has been paid to this subject in most of the critical scholarly work on India – in which the subcontinent’s partition, Hindu– Muslim communalism, the rise of Hindu nationalism, violence against religious minorities, discriminatory intersections of caste, class, and gender/ sexual hierarchies, and Dalit marginalization have figured prominently, typically through analyses of Indian politics, nationalism, and post-coloniality. This chapter disinters a set of related and yet woefully neglected questions. The Chinese community is the only group in independent India whose arrest and internment were implemented en masse, without charge or any

216  Payal Banerjee heed to due process guarantees, but somehow within the nation’s legal framework. Moreover, these curtailments of civil liberties were justified exclusively on the basis of ethnic origin. How was this accomplished? How do we render tangible the dynamic between national sovereignty and the politics of dispossession – material, legal and social – when the persecuted constituencies are small, the biographies of its members ill-documented, their socio-legal status reconfigured by law? Drawing primarily upon memoirs and oral histories published recently by authors of Chinese origin about their experiences in India since 1962 and supplemented by Indian state documents pertaining to the war, this chapter privileges the perspectives of India’s Chinese community to propose a recalibration of existing understandings of what constitutes the project of India’s nation-building. The chapter begins with an outline of the specific laws and policies that have historically targeted the Indian Chinese in order to draw out, to the extent possible, the intimate realm of emotions, memories and the visceral responses to public and state actions emanating from this community. This is followed by an analysis of the embodied nature of the state’s sovereign actions and the lived experiences of those whom the state punished in its enactment of sovereignty. The final section of the chapter focuses on the lives of those detained at the Central Internment Camp in Deoli, Rajasthan, to bring into view the carceral politics of nation-building.

Disenfranchised by the state’s mandate ‘Three Indian police officers showed up. They were in khaki uniforms and appeared unemotional. They told us they had come to take us away and that we should be prepared to be away for a long time. They didn’t take kindly to our questions and answered brusquely. They didn’t know where we were being taken or how long we would be gone. We needed to take warm clothes, bedding, a few pots and pans, and other essentials needed to exist for many months. . . . I looked at our neighbours who were watching us being carted off like common criminals: a grandmother . . . her thirteen-year-old granddaughter and her eight-year-old grandson. They didn’t look at us as old friends and neighbours. It was a different look, one of astonishment. It also seemed to say we were outsiders. A flood of simultaneous emotions overwhelmed me: bewilderment, fear of the unknown, and a feeling of shame: shame for being Chinese.’2 The preceding excerpt from Yin Marsh’s powerful memoir Doing Time with Nehru chronicles the lives of people of Chinese origin spread across India as they confronted the trauma and dislocation associated with state-authorized arrests, internment and the full effects of being officially

The Chinese in India 217 categorized as an ‘enemy population’ almost overnight following the onset of the India-China war in 1962. Along with a few recent publications and visual materials, this work bequeaths an immense legacy to the roster of Indian national consciousness: it leaves evidence of the visceral and emotional, the simultaneity of the deeply private and immensely public encounters of everyday harassment on the streets, termination of employment, police raids at home, destruction of property, unexplained arrests, and other modes of anti-Chinese state repression, which show how the Chinese in India occupied the vortex of what constituted India’s political explorations of its sovereignty and coming-of-age as a post-colonial nation. Following the outbreak of war with China, India witnessed a surge in anti-Chinese intolerance, which the memoirs suggest was fairly unprecedented hitherto.3 The Indian government, under the leadership of Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru, expedited the legislation and enforcement of a series of laws and ordinances that targeted the Chinese living in India for the stated purpose of protecting national security interests. The Foreigner’s Law (Application and Amendment) Ordinance (30 October 1962), the Foreigner’s (Internment) Order (3 November 1962), the Foreigners Law Act (passed on 26 November 1962), and the Foreigner’s Order (issued on 14 January 1963) collectively set in motion unwarranted arrests, large-scale internment, repatriation, deportation, and serialized violations of civil rights of the Chinese. For example, the legal definition of foreigners was altered and extended such that all people of Chinese descent living in India, including those who were Indian citizens, became ‘aliens’ from an enemy nation. Thus, any person of Chinese descent in India, regardless of settlement history, inter-marriage or mixed Indian ancestry over generations, became India’s enemy. Scholars of law and politics, Jerome A. Cohen and Shao-chuan Leng interpret the implications of a series of related laws as follows: ‘In order to effectuate the Indian government’s intention to subject all Indian citizens of Chinese origin to the [Foreigner’s Law Ordinance], their definition of “person” was soon broadened to make the regulatory scheme applicable to “any person who, or either whose parents, or any of whose grandparents was at any time a citizen or subject of any country at war with, or committing external aggression against, India”.’4 This became the definition of ‘person of Chinese origin’ in all of the government’s subsequent actions. As Cohen and Leng rightly point out, the consequence of these measures was that almost 900 Indian citizens of Chinese origin were denied the rights of citizenship and became subjected to the same restrictions and controls as Chinese aliens.5 The Foreigners Law Act and the Foreigner’s Order enforced the removal of distinctions between people in China and the ethnic Chinese who were part of India’s existing multi-ethnic population. The Chinese community in India at the

218  Payal Banerjee time represented much diversity in terms of settlement history, occupation, social class, inter-marriage and mixed-ancestry, and length of time spent in India as individuals or families. For many families, India represented their homeland for several generations. Many were born in India, had never been to China, and depending on where they were raised, spoke fluent Assamese, Khasi, Nepali, Bengali, Hindi, and English. Many people of Chinese origin had married into local families and had Indian spouses and extended families. A large number of the Chinese were Indians by nationality, while others were long-term residents, whose social ties with China ranged from substantial to nominal or none at all. Following the laws that targeted the community, anyone of any measure of Chinese ancestry in India came to be perceived as a threat and associated with the ‘enemy country’. Once folded into the enemy category by the state’s mandate, people of Chinese ancestry fell under the purview of multiple new laws designed to limit their civil rights. The Foreigners Law Act placed severe restrictions on the community’s mobility, empowered government agents to closely monitor their activities, and made it mandatory for the Chinese to carry a permit if people needed to travel away from their registered address for a period longer than 24 hours. These controls remained in effect until the early 1980s; the specific order restricting movement was removed only in late 1996.6 All persons of Chinese descent were required to report to Indian authorities for ‘registration and classification’. Paul Chung, the president of the Indian Chinese Association and resident of Kolkata, recounted in an interview his memory of the impact of these policies on his life and his relationship to the city that was his home. Upon his return from boarding school during the Christmas holidays, Chung learned that it had become mandatory for him to report to the District Intelligence Branch during each visit home, that he could not venture out of Calcutta’s Chinatown area in Tangra, and that he would need a separate permit for trips outside the restricted zone, such as to the Howrah railway station or the airport at Dumdum.7 Those with Indian citizenship were stripped of their status, and residency requirements for the non-citizen Chinese were made more stringent. With their citizenship revoked, the Chinese were forced to endure the severe hardships of being stateless persons not only during the course of the war but for nearly four decades following the war (until the late 1990s when citizenship got reinstated). The Foreigners Law Act did not allow the Chinese to emigrate without procuring permits, which required the fulfilment of government conditions as specified under the Act. For instance, the Chinese were prohibited from leaving by sea or air, except from the designated cities of Calcutta, Bombay, Madras, and New Delhi.8 The Foreigner’s Order (1963) made it mandatory for the Chinese to carry permits to live

The Chinese in India 219 or enter what were demarcated as restricted zones in the border regions of Assam, West Bengal’s Darjeeling and Kalimpong areas, and portions of Uttar Pradesh and Punjab in north India.9 Some of the Chinese residents of these areas were forcibly relocated.10 The implementation of the Foreigner’s (Internment) Order of 3 November 1962, authorized the mass arrest and incarceration of the Chinese in the interest of national security.11 Based on the template of American President Franklin D. Roosevelt’s Executive Order No. 9066, which had mandated the detention of Japanese Americans in the name of national security for several years during World War II, the Foreigner’s (Internment) Order in India generated mass arrests of those with Chinese ancestry in the country.12 Although the authorities particularly targeted people from the border regions of the Northeast – for example, Assam’s Makum and Digboi, Shillong in Meghalaya and West Bengal’s Darjeeling, Kurseong, and Kalimpong areas – large numbers of Indian Chinese were also arrested from Calcutta, Bombay, Delhi, Kanpur, Jamshedpur, and other parts of India. The authorities used Foreign Registries and scanned schools and other public institutions to identify people of Chinese heritage and family names. Small children, teenagers, the elderly, pregnant women, and in some cases Indian spouses and children, were taken into custody without any charges. The arrested were imprisoned in local jails or make-shift structures for several days or weeks before being transported to the nearest railway stations to be put on a special train commissioned to take over 2,100 people of Chinese origin across India to the Central Internment Camp at Deoli in Rajasthan. According to official statistics, 2,165 Chinese residents were held in Deoli. This relatively ‘small’ number (given the total number of Indian Chinese) cannot explain each individual’s detention. The memoirs help us understand why it is not the total tally of detainees but rather the fact of detention itself, and its symbolic value, that reveals the centrality of the state’s experiments with its own sovereignty. The number of detainees at Deoli could just as easily have been 1,000, even 10,000, or more given the size of the Chinese community and the scale of initial arrests. The figure is partly the result of several practical issues: (1) the arbitrary nature of state action; (2) resource constraints, such as inadequate manpower or infrastructure; and (3) the ability of some Chinese, especially in urban areas, to deter or defer arrests. Ethnographic evidence has also shown that police officers in Assam displayed a clear preference for arresting those with assets with the goal of asset-appropriation. Those interned represented a cross-section of the community, which included people who could be seen as non-threatening: infants, children, the elderly, and non-Chinese family members of mixed families. Counterparts to the camp’s entire population

220  Payal Banerjee could be found elsewhere in places like Assam or West Bengal undergoing other forms of state repression or public harassment, but free nonetheless, or in local jails. The final count of detainees in Deoli thus does not denote a representative figure and its logic is contained nowhere in its summation. About 900 of those interned held Indian citizenship at the time of their arrest and internment. A second camp was established in Nowgong, Assam.13 The Ministry of Commerce and Industry of the Government of India issued The Control of Internees’ Property Order through which an appointed custodian took control over the business accounts and stock-intrade of those interned in camps. Apart from those interned, thousands of others were arrested and sent to local jails where they languished without charges or trial. Yet more were served ‘Quit India’ orders to leave India on a month’s notice.14 Failure to raise travel expenses resulted in imprisonment. According to official data, the Government of India had repatriated about 1,665 Chinese internees along with their 730 dependents to China by September 1963.15 The recent memoirs and news articles suggest that the actual number of people in all categories – arrested, imprisoned, repatriated, and interned – was much higher than figures quoted in official documents. Forcible deportations of people of Chinese origin continued till as late as December 1967, five years after the end of the war.16 Many among those repatriated had never been to China, did not speak Chinese or did not have significant social ties with the country. About 7,500 people not forcibly deported or repatriated left India between 1962 and 1967 to seek domicile in China, Hong Kong, Pakistan, Taiwan, Japan, Australia, the United Kingdom, the United States, and Canada.17 As anti-Chinese sentiments escalated, the community became a target of brutal assaults both by the general public and state authorities. In a demonstration in Delhi during the war, over 15,000 people gathered with placards that declared: ‘Chinese, go back’, ‘Hands off our frontier’, ‘Choke the opium eaters’, and ‘We will crush the yellow rats’.18 Property, shops, factories, restaurants, and homes owned by the Chinese got looted, burned, destroyed, occupied, or auctioned.19 Chinese schools and presses were ordered to shut down, people lost employment and were prevented from attending schools for Indians who no longer trusted them. Although Chinese residents across India extended their support to the Indian cause by making contributions to the defence fund and condemned the military decisions of the Chinese government, such expressions of solidarity were received with severe mistrust.20 The Indian state denied the allegations of arrests and categorically refused to acknowledge that those interned, or any person of Chinese descent for that matter, were mistreated in any capacity. This was in spite of the fact that the last group of internees from the Deoli camp was released in 1967 – five years after the war was over.

The Chinese in India 221

Emotions, the body, and memory: the intimate archives of state action The recent publication of memoirs and oral histories, such as Yin Marsh’s Doing Time with Nehru and Kwai-Yun Li’s Master’s thesis Deoli Camp: An Oral History of Chinese Indians from 1962 to 1966, represent an act of breaking the silence about the history of prejudice and state repression endured by the Chinese in India since 1962.21 Both Marsh and Li document how they themselves and their respondents had been reticent for decades about their experiences of random searches, arrests, and subsequent internment in the Deoli camp. Marsh, then a thirteen-year-old from a prosperous and educated family in Darjeeling and a student at the prestigious Loreto Convent, was arrested with her family and imprisoned for several days at a local jail before being sent to the Deoli camp.22 The personal and political nuances of revisiting after fifty years one of the most devastating and traumatic episodes in the lives of Chinese families like hers are reflected in the memoir: ‘This period may have been a small portion of my life in terms of years, yet it left a huge scar. Most significantly, it led to the disintegration of my family. For the most part, I successfully filed those events deep in my memory and moved on with my life. I had come to America with my mother, her new husband, and my brother, started anew, and never talked about this period of my life to anyone. It wasn’t until just over ten years ago that I began to open this chapter of my childhood beyond my immediate family and thus initiated the healing process.’23 Sequestered, and yet sentient, these memories constitute an intangible archive of evidence that reveals how the disenfranchised interpreted and processed state action and how these events left their imprint on the intimate recesses of one’s psyche and body, and went on to shape the agency of a minority community singled out as enemy aliens. The human consequences of the anti-Chinese laws – the scars, disintegration of families, the memory of trauma encoded in one’s physical being – bear testimony to how certain methods of the new nation’s pursuits of sovereignty got embodied. The narratives of the former internees reveal a keen awareness of the nexus between a form of nation-building and the corporeal dimensions of anti-Chinese state repression. Liu, one of the participants in Li’s oral history of the Deoli camp experience, interpreted their arrest and incarceration without trial as follows: I think the Indian government wanted to show Indians that they were doing something about the Chinese soldiers at their borders, so they arrested the Chinese living within India. They treated us like prisoners of war, but we were not prisoners of war. Most of us were born in

222  Payal Banerjee India. We were civilians, we had jobs, we had shops and a lot of us were kids, still in school. We never lifted a gun to fight the Indians. But we were locked up all the same.24 The emotional costs of having been thrust into a status akin to that of prisoners of war partly account for why, even though several members of the Indian Chinese community in Canada encouraged Li’s project, many former internees declined to take part. The reasons given for their decisions draw out the bodily and psychic contours of the Indian government’s legal actions against the Chinese. One of the women approached for the project said, ‘It is still too painful to talk about my experience.’25 Others declined out of caution, wary of repercussions despite the passage of time. Li’s personal account echoes a residuum of doubt, anxiety, and instinctive reticence about her experiences during the war. An incidence during Li’s interviews with former Deoli internees, who had subsequently emigrated and settled in Canada decades ago following the war, orients readers towards the psychic implications of the searches and arrests by Indian authorities.26 To document the personal accounts of the internment experience, Li had gathered her participants at a coffee shop. During the course of an animated round of reminiscence about old acquaintances and life back in India in the 1960s, the respondents, seized by fear and an unease of being overheard, suddenly stopped their conversation. Li recounts the episode as follows: ‘It happened at Tim Hortons when I sat down with Liu, Hua and Chen for our interview. We froze when we saw two South Asian men in uniform at the next table – they turned out to be security guards. Seeing the uniforms as we discussed the 1962 Sino-Indian incident triggered our fear of Indian soldiers and the anti-Chinese mob: the Indian soldiers who knocked on our doors at midnight to arrest and intern many of us; the Indian soldiers who knocked on our doors to hand out deportation orders; the Indians who taunted “Mera naam hai Ching Ching Chu . . . ” as we ran for home; and the Indian mob who shouted “Dirty Cheena, go home . . . ” before destroying our properties and turning their clubs on us. A fear that never really goes away.’27 Marsh’s memoir chronicles in detail how the conduct of daily life – going to school, walking in the neighbourhood – had become the cause of intense fear arising out of the near certainty of physical assault.28 Following the Foreigner’s Act and Order, acts of anti-Chinese brutalities on the streets spiked causing Chinese children to be sent to school in convoys for protection. The psychic and visceral dimensions of these memories, carried over and preserved despite the passage of time and lives lived in Canada or the USA, expose the dialectics of repression encoded within the enforcement of state sovereignty in 1962. Armed with the new laws, special intelligence units

The Chinese in India 223 combed through schools and hostels to detain or arrest students with Chinese family names. In the larger cities like Calcutta, Delhi and Bombay, Indian officials placed the Chinese under surveillance. Anyone suspected, however incorrectly, of being Communist sympathizers or of being spies for the Chinese government got deported or jailed. In this political scenario, an unfamiliar world of isolation and intolerance descended upon Marsh and her eight-year-old younger brother Bobby in Darjeeling – the prosperous hill town in northern West Bengal, renowned for its namesake tea. Their Indian friends stopped visiting. Schoolmates, once close friends and confidantes, launched a routine of harassment. One evening, just a few days before the family’s arrest and subsequent internment, Bobby hurried home in distress having encountered a backlash from his school friends and asked his sister, ‘They kept chanting, “Ching Chong, Chinaman, Ching Chong, Chinaman”; What does that mean?’29 At the age of thirteen, Marsh could not fully grasp what was at the core of what appeared to be gibberish, doubly incomprehensible as it was, given their past camaraderie. Yet, her own experiences of being a target of ridicule among her friends made her come to the new realization that such words, spoken with contempt, were meant to injure. Although the Chinese in India were spread across the country and surrounded by diverse ethnic and linguistic groups, experiences such as these appear throughout the individual accounts. One of Li’s participants, from an affluent family based in northeastern India, shared how ‘friends became my tormentors overnight’: ‘We became taboo. The Assamese taunted me and all the Chinese, like pulling the corners of their eyes upwards and shouting, Cheena, Cheena, Chin, Chin. Sometimes they threw stones or rotten vegetables at us and yelled at us to go home. I had to change my route to school. I went through the back alleys and walked really fast.’30 For Marsh and her brother Bobby, the disintegration of their social world was accompanied by encounters with the brutality of the state. On the last Friday of October 1962, their father was asked at tea-time to report to the local police station for a brief interview but never returned: he got detained and held in Darjeeling jail indefinitely without charge. Several days after their father’s arrest, the young siblings learned that the Central Intelligence Department (CID) would soon search their home. Marsh and Bobby, school children still, proceeded to strategize how best to prevent the confiscation of their documents, certificates, and personal letters, many of which were in Chinese and therefore liable to be used as incriminating evidence. Marsh and her grandmother were faced with the impossible task of distinguishing between ‘papers that looked important and needed to be hidden, and other letters that [they] thought should be destroyed’.31 An entire part of the family’s history – scripted in the documents and personal

224  Payal Banerjee letters bearing the nuances of the prosaic and the profound – got burned into ashes and flushed down the toilet within hours. When the CID officers finally arrived ‘to look for certain things to make sure everything is all right’ and searched every nook and cranny, Marsh and her brother endured the intrusion and the officers’ rudeness with fortitude and took care not to upset their elderly grandmother.32 A few days later, they found themselves following an official order to pack some basic belongings. Not privy to any information from the officers, Marsh and Bobby were unaware that they were indeed packing for the long road to an internment camp across the breadth of the country, preceded by detention in Darjeeling jail and a seven-day train-ride under the supervision of armed guards. Bedding, pots and pans, food, clothes, and other objects of daily life that the few fortunate ones were permitted to assemble in haste, appear in the memoirs as part of the prominent markers that delineate the moment of arrest. Marsh writes in her memoir: ‘I don’t remember what items I packed for myself, other than books, pens, pencils and a fork-and-knife set. I remembered to take sanitary napkins since I just had my first period. . . . We packed some things for my father because when he was arrested a month before, he had left with just the clothes on his back.’33 No less significant than what archaeological finds unveil, the assorted contents of Marsh’s bag packed following her arrest, constitute a site from which to contemplate the intersection of state power that rendered the family’s future uncertain and the intimate realm of a young girl’s thoughts and agency in the face of imminent dislocation and ambiguity. Indeed, some of the most vivid reflections curated in the memoirs depict the moment of arrest, which many referred to as ‘The Midnight Knock’. Chen refracted the experience of seeing the entire family being taken into custody from Shillong with the following words: ‘Then the arrests started. I remember the night the police came. It was one in the morning. I heard shouting. I heard banging on our door and I heard my parents rushing around. They hid money and valuables in little cubbyholes and cracks in the walls. We had half the money sewn into our clothes, and we had pillowcases full of clothes and food ready. My parents woke us. Then they opened the door.’34 The assortment of specific sounds, the urgency in bodily movements, and hasty efforts made to mitigate the dispossession that had arrived at the doorstep, yet again, serve as embodied signposts of where the state had made its presence felt and marked its territory and dominion. Ming retraced a similar scene from the night of her arrest from Shillong: ‘Indian soldiers knocked on the door around the middle of November of 1962. It was five in the morning. Someone shook me awake. I opened my eyes and saw Mrs. Lin. “Get up. We have to leave. We have to pack up a few clothes

The Chinese in India 225 because the cops are here to take us.” The soldiers told us that they were there to evacuate us. They told us that they would protect us. . . . We will be back in no time, they said. I was only 9 years old. . . . I didn’t know I would end up in Deoli for four years.’35 The Assamese novel Makam, based on oral histories and fieldwork in upper Assam, draws out the disastrous impact of the arrests and internment on the families of Chinese descendants in India’s northeast.36 Settled in the region since 1838 as part of British efforts to develop Assam’s tea plantations and followed later by voluntary migration, the Chinese not only provided indispensable knowledge and labour as tea growers and artisans, but also contributed to the evolution of a unique multi-ethnic society that cut across linguistic and cultural barriers. Several small Chinese areas or ‘China Patty’ grew in various parts of Assam. Makum was one of the largest and its specialized spaces, such as a Chinese club, a Chinese school, Chinese restaurants, and businesses, indicated that the community had retained aspects of its cultural distinctiveness while simultaneously creating for itself a multi-ethnic community rooted in the region’s language and culture. Chinese families, along with the many mixed-heritage ones resulting from intermarriage with the Assamese, created over generations a community of ‘Assamese Chinese, an integral part of the greater Assamese society’.37 The state’s new ordinances set in motion an operation to distinguish and isolate Chinese individuals newly defined as foreign and ‘enemy alien’ from within a culture and population where these distinctions did not exist in well-defined terms. Specifically, given Assam’s multi-ethnic areas with mixed Chinese families, the authorities’ attempts to separate the so-called Chinese from the locals on the basis of facial features or family names created an idiosyncratic selection process inevitably fraught with ambiguities and mistakes, and resulting in dire consequences for the community.38 About 1,500 people identified as Chinese in Assam were arrested en masse on 19 November 1962, often marked as the war’s last day. The Assamese Chinese thus joined thousands of others sharing Chinese ethnicity in bearing the irrevocable costs of separation from family and economic dispossession. Signifying the state’s duplicity, the Indian authorities assured the Chinese that the temporary move for a few days was meant to ensure the community’s safety and gave permission to take nothing except documents. Chen recollects the Indian soldiers’ instructions as follows: ‘The soldiers lied to us. They said, “You don’t need to take that much with you. You don’t need to take money with you. You will be released in no time. Meanwhile, the government will look after you, food and all. Don’t worry.” ’39 Those arrested in the Makum area were crowded into a cowshed before being transferred to Dibrugarh jail, while individuals apprehended in other

226  Payal Banerjee parts of Assam were held at local prisons. Army trucks made rounds to gather those housed in the different jails and brought them to designated railways stations. About 1,500 people from Assam were then put on a special train, which made stops along the way to pick up more members of the Chinese community. Marsh and her brother Bobby, their father, grandmother, and neighbours from Darjeeling, Li and the participants of her oral history – Chen, Hua, Liu, Ming from Assam and adjacent areas – along with hundreds of others from Kalimpong, Kurseong, and Calcutta boarded the same train headed towards a then-undeclared destination.40 After two days of travel, people realized that the train was not bound for Calcutta as was previously surmised and began to speculate upon their unknown destination. During the journey, people ‘napped on the floor of a lurching train and dozed on hard benches and train station platforms that left welts on bottoms and knots in bones’.41 Water was scarce and the meagre quantities of rationed food – diluted tea, parathas, half-cooked boiled rice, and lentils distributed once or twice a day – left everyone hungry. People jostled at the windows when the train made stops to buy food from station vendors. At times the prisoners were allowed to cook their own food during designated train-stops. During the harrowing cross-country train ride, some people lost their lives from exhaustion and strain. A few women gave birth.42 Marsh’s accounts of the train journey provide a moving description of how the physical experience of segregation and confinement as a group also stirred an unfamiliar racial ‘awareness’ among those being transported. The Chinese in India thus encountered an unprecedented experience of racialization, which often took violent turns. Chen described an incident during the journey, when an Indian mob, having mistaken the large concentration of Chinese at a station stop to be prisoners of war, launched an armed attack. The Indian soldiers on guard duty intervened to restrain the mob. At this moment of crisis, the soldiers’ warning to the mob revealed a simple truth that had been placed at the verge of extinction: ‘These are Chinese born in India. They are not Chinese soldiers captured at the frontier. If you don’t go away, we will shoot.’43 This articulation, by agents of the state no less, reveals some of the deepest contradictions in the government’s treatment of the Chinese. Chen recounted a similar incident that, to a minimal extent, abates the starkness of India’s anti-Chinese nationalism: ‘The local Indians [in Shillong] started yelling at the Chinese to go home. They threw stones at Chinese shops and beat up the Chinese. One day a group of students came. . . . [They] shouted anti-Chinese slogans and wanted to drag the Hakka to the street to beat him up. The Indian who owned the shop next door came out and shouted at the students, “Hey, these people were born here in India. They are not from China. They are

The Chinese in India 227 one of us. They speak better Hindi and Khasi than you and have better manners than the lot of you. Our children fly kites together, go to school together and play together. You leave them alone and go home”’.44 Despite the painful memories of physical suffering and indignity experienced during the journey to Deoli, Marsh herself and Li’s participants do not neglect to remember the kindness of Indian soldiers and guards, who gave extra plates of food or bought samosas for the kids in their train compartment. Rare instances such as these chronicled in the memoirs preserve hope about the existence of a few unexpected cracks in some of the most totalitarian elements of state sovereignty.

The Deoli camp: Chinese internment and the carceral politics of nation-building When the train made its final stop after seven days, a convoy of army trucks transported everyone from the station to a military compound. With utter disbelief, the Chinese found themselves gathered in an environment bearing the quintessential marks of a prison camp: the vigilance of heavily armed guards, watchtowers, and high barbed-wire fences. When their exact location was revealed for the first time with the military commandant’s announcement, ‘Welcome to the state of Rajasthan’, people grappled with the realization of how far from home they had been displaced.45 A brief interrogation, registration and strip-searches (segregated by gender) followed, during which money, jewellery, valuables, along with knives and scissors were confiscated and placed in paper-bags marked with numbers assigned to individual families. Left with only those items adjudged to be necessary inside the camp, the Chinese internees were housed in tents with cots and army blankets for some weeks until permanent arrangements were made. Marsh’s memoir provides a vivid description of the camp’s high-security surroundings, which included layers of barbed-wire fences, surveillance-towers, and patrol-guards authorized to shoot anyone who tried to escape. The Deoli camp was not made-to-order for the Chinese. Rather, the camp had evolved over a century as an extension of the colonial state’s military and disciplinary apparatus. In 1852, the East India Company established a cantonment in Deoli to train and house Indian soldiers for its army.46 The information plaque erected in the premises of the Deoli camp notes that the cantonment’s 42nd Battalion Regiment and 43rd Battalion went into active service during World War I. Over the years, the camp had been used to imprison various groups of people including Indians arrested for anti-British activities, leaders of the Quit India movement, and, even later, German, Italian, and Japanese prisoners of war and nationals, along

228  Payal Banerjee with civilians from countries allied with the Japanese during World War II. Following Thailand’s declaration of war against the British in 1942, Thai nationals present in India were arrested and detained at Deoli until 1945. In 1948, the camp was used to house refugees from Pakistan. After the internment of the Chinese between 1962 and 1967, Deoli was assigned to house Pakistani prisoners of war from 1967 to October 1968 and later refugees from Bangladesh during the country’s liberation struggle.47 Regulations pertaining to the administration of the interned Chinese in Deoli were drawn from the camp commandant office’s old copy of a military manual guiding the surveillance of Axis POWs.48 Some of these rules got rescinded when the authorities recognized that children and the elderly constituted about 60 percent of camp’s Chinese. Marsh’s reflections of an uncanny discovery at the camp – about her family’s settling down in a small housing unit that was designated as Bungalow number 2 – unravel further the ironies of post-colonial governmentality. ‘We later learned that Bungalow no. 2 was where Prime Minister Nehru lived when he was interned by the British years before, so we felt very privileged. It felt like we were “doing time with Nehru”.’49 Marsh, who meant her memoir ‘not to serve as material for further division, but to inspire greater understanding’, thus represents the coincidence about Nehru’s internment in the same tenement in the most generous terms, despite the fact that it was indeed under Nehru’s leadership that the Chinese endured incalculable loss and suffering.50 The memoirs help reconstruct the minute details of the camp: its desolate existence in one of the most barren regions of the country, the lack of clean drinking water, the dirt in the insufficient ration of half-cooked food, the curry of old camel meat with entrails included, and the tenement mud floors littered with bird droppings. The small windows with wooden shutters in the barracks barely managed to keep out Rajasthan’s extreme temperatures and arid climate, unbearable for the Chinese from the river valleys and hill towns in India. Many died from heat stroke and related health problems, exacerbated by poor nutrition and the unhygienic conditions of the camp. Chen’s account provides an indication of the barrack’s bleak atmosphere: ‘Depending on the family size, we lived four or five families to each room. There was nothing in the rooms except lots of sand – no toilets, no kitchens, just sand. The men whose families were not arrested had no privacy at all. They set up their beds against the barrack walls outside on the verandas with their belongings under their beds.’51 The Chinese were assigned living quarters on the basis of their place of origin in India. Those arrested from Assam’s Digboi and Makum areas had barracks in the last two wings. Communities from the Darjeeling district were clustered in Camp

The Chinese in India 229 Four, or the Darjeeling Camp, consisting of thirteen or fourteen small and rectangular concrete block houses, each with two or three adjacent units in which individual families could settle with a modicum of privacy.52 The ingenuity and hard work with which the Chinese strove to wrest a sense of autonomy, despite the magnitude of their displacement and dispossession, illustrate the triumph of the community’s agency and spirit. Each wing and barrack chose representatives to negotiate with the camp commandant for better conditions, for example, to request raw rations so that people could cook their own food or ask to be united with members of the same family or towns scattered around the camp. Stripped of any tools, knives, or equipment, the internees used their skills to convert scraps and material bits scavenged from around the camp to make utensils, knives, slingshots, ovens, and cutting boards for chopping vegetables. A shoe-repair stall set up by a man from Shillong provided a much-needed service: people desperately needed to repair the scant one or two pairs of shoes, which got damaged easily in Deoli’s rocky desert terrain. With their meagre one to three rupee monthly stipend, the residents bought essential commodities at the camp store. Ming’s account of how the camp’s women pooled resources to rent a sewing machine to mend and make clothes and the strategies they devised to make maximum use of the costly rental provides a glimpse of the community’s resourcefulness in overcoming the internment’s material deprivation and acute economic constraints. As in the case of negotiations, these internees also engaged in collective action to compensate for the years of schooling that their children were missing and arranged for a small school. Older children were assigned to teach, and lessons were given in Mathematics, English, Hindi, and later Chinese, when textbooks could be ordered. Over time, and particularly following a visit by the International Red Cross, the food and rations improved. The Chinese government had arranged to deliver care packages with necessities such as canned fish, candy, Chinese herbal medicine, toothpaste, toothbrushes, and towels. Emigration forms sent by the Chinese government were also distributed. In the face of the Indian state’s hostility, a large number of families and young men opted to leave for China despite the lack of connections with the country. Many families got separated when some members decided to emigrate, while others chose to stay back. Neither the government, nor the people in India were (or still are) able to appreciate the profound irony of these departures given the Chinese community’s roots in India, an example of which was to be found in the confines of the internment camp itself. The Chinese held small celebrations to invoke some cheer in which people joined in with songs – these were in Hindi, Nepali, and Khasi.53

230  Payal Banerjee

Conclusion Although the war lasted for only a month in 1962, the Chinese were not all released from Deoli until 1967. By this time, anti-Chinese policies had altered the substance of the community’s legal and social standing beyond recognition. Their foreign status remained in effect. People of Chinese descent were required to report periodically to local authorities. In the hill stations and border areas, the rules were more stringent: failure to comply with the requirement of a daily audience at police stations resulted in arrest. For the Chinese from the border towns and hill stations, prohibitions were established against their return to these areas. This not only forced the communities to relocate to cities like Calcutta or abroad, but also dashed any hopes of recovering their homes, property, and assets. Those who were not subjected to this restriction returned to their former homes to see the rubble of their truncated lives: houses occupied by Indians, possessions and businesses taken over, and properties auctioned off by the government. Meanwhile, many arbitrary deportations had separated families. The Chinese in India, once an industrious community representing the spectrum of financial prosperity, had been thrust into a state of penury. The urgency of earning a livelihood put a stop to many young people’s education after being released from the camp. Many of these dispossessed Chinese went to China after their release. Those who stayed sought support from few existing relatives to start over. The travesties of India’s post-colonial nationalism, and indeed sovereignty, manifested throughout this episode are far too numerous. In the absence of many more memoirs and research, such transgressions are yet to make their existence known. I would conclude the essay with one last detail: the Indian state has not issued to the Chinese detained in custody for years without charge any documents that provides material evidence of their internment.54

Notes 1 Payal Banerjee, ‘Chinese bodies in Fire: interpreting the refractions of ethnicity, gender, sexuality, and citizenship in post-colonial India’s memories of the Sino-Indian War’, China Report: A Journal of East Asian Studies, 43(4), (2007), pp. 437–563. 2 Yin Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru: Life before the India-China Border War of 1962, Events that Led Up to It, and Life with My Family at an Internment Camp, California: Sugartown Publishing, 2012, pp. 77–9. 3 Archival evidence suggests that as early as in 1960 the Indian government had at least considered and in some instances implemented at a very preliminary level certain measures to observe and monitor members of the Chinese community in India, especially in North Bengal. See Amit Das Gupta’s chapter in this volume for further details.

The Chinese in India 231 4 Jerome Alan Cohen and Shao-chuan Leng, ‘The Sino-Indian dispute over the internment and detention of Chinese nationals’, in Alan Jerome Cohen (ed.), China’s Practice of International Law: Some Case Studies, Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1972, p. 75. 5 Cohen and Leng, ‘The Sino-Indian Dispute’, p. 75. 6 Ananya Dutta, ‘A psyche shaped by conflict’, The Hindu, 18 November 2012. http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/other-states/a-psycheshaped-by-conflict/article4106426.ece, accessed 13 June 2014. 7 Ibid. 8 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 130. 9 Ibid. 10 Ibid. 11 Cohen and Leng, ‘The Sino-Indian dispute’. 12 S.N.M. Abdi, ‘Without apologies: the state cares little about the lost years of our ethnic Chinese’, Outlook India Magazine, 22 October 2012, http:// www.outlookindia.com/printarticle.aspx?282589, accessed 13 June 2013. 13 References to the Central Internment Camp and another camp at N ­ owgong are to be found in communications between the governments of India and China. See, for example, the notes from the Ministry of External Affairs (MEA), New Delhi sent to the Embassy of China in India, on 4 ­September 1963, in Government of India (GOI), MEA, Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China: White Paper, July 1963–January 1964, no. 10, Delhi: GOI Press, 1964, pp. 65–6. 14 See GOI, MEA, Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China: White Paper, no. 9, 10, 12, and 14, Delhi: GOI Press, 1963–1968. 15 See note given by the MEA to the Embassy of China in India, 3 September 1963, in GOI, MEA, Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China: White Paper, July 1963-January 1964, no. 10, Delhi: GOI Press, 1964, pp. 64–5. 16 See memorandum given by the Embassy of China in India to the MEA, 20 January 1986, no. M/634/68, GOI, MEA, Notes, Memoranda and Letters Exchanged between the Governments of India and China: White Paper, February 1967–April 1968, no. 14, Delhi: GOI Press, 1968, p. 86. 17 Gouri Chatterjee, ‘Goodbye Chinatown’, Far Eastern Economic Review, 159(20), (1996), pp. 28–9. And, Smita Sengupta, ‘Marginality and segregation: a concept of socio-political environment is urban setting’, Man in India, 73(1), (1993), pp. 41–7. 18 The Times of India (Bombay), ‘Delhi demonstrator is dragged and beaten’, 2 November 1962, p. 1. 19 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, pp. 121–4. 20 The Times of India (Bombay), ‘Strict action against “security risks”: Restrictions imposed on Chinese residents’, 15 November 1962. 21 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru. And Kwai-Yun Li, ‘Deoli Camp: an oral history of Chinese Indians from 1962 to 1966’, M.A. thesis, Ontario Institute for Studies in Education, University of Toronto, 2011. 22 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 79. 23 Ibid., p. xvii. 24 Li, Deoli Camp, p. 68. 25 Ibid., p. 19.

232  Payal Banerjee 26 Ibid. 27 Ibid., p. 79. 28 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru. 29 Ibid., p. 76. 30 Li, Deoli Camp, p. 30. 31 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 66. 32 Ibid., p. 68. 33 Ibid., p. 78. 34 Li, Deoli Camp, p. 45. 35 Ibid., pp. 30–1. 36 Rita Chowdhury, Makam, Guwahati: Jyoti Prakashan, 2010. 37 Rita Chowdhury, ‘The Assamese Chinese story’, The Hindu, 18 ­November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/the-assamese-chinesestory/article4106422.ece, accessed 23 October 2013. 38 Chowdhury, Makam. 39 Li, Deoli Camp, p. 46. 40 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 88. 41 Li, Deoli Camp, p. 48. 42 Ibid., p. 39. 43 Ibid., p. 47. 44 Ibid., p. 45. 45 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 89. 46 Li, Deoli Camp, pp. 95–6. 47 Ibid. 48 Abdi, ‘Without apologies’. 49 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 93. 50 Nicole Marsh’s Foreword in Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. xiii. 51 Li, Deoli Camp, pp. 48–9. 52 Marsh, Doing Time with Nehru, p. 94. 53 Li, Deoli Camp. 54 Abdi, ‘Without apologies’.

12 Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on1 Jabin T. Jacob

The 50th anniversary of the 1962 border war with China occasioned in Indian media much historical recall and hand-wringing alongside attempts also at analysis of the reasons for the defeat and the current state of affairs. Given that English is the preferred language of its strategic community, this chapter will examine a selection of writings in English-language newspapers covering mostly the period from October to December 2012 since these were the months that attention to the anniversary of the war was the greatest and given that this is also the span the conflict itself took place 50 years earlier.

The China watchers Within the larger Indian strategic community, the China watchers have some specific characteristics of their own. To begin with, the group is growing. China watchers of the older generation were truly ‘specialists’ in that they had direct knowledge or experience of China as diplomats who served there and spoke the language, military personnel who served along the Line of Actual Control (LAC) and academics who studied and/or taught about China in their respective university departments. Today, China’s rise and growing importance has brought in many more Indians looking at that country. Many of these are merely opportunists taking advantage of the rising interest in China and the lack of genuine experts in the country to fill chairs in television studios and column spaces in newspapers. Usually possessing little knowledge and worse, also bias and unthinking hostility towards China, these newly arrived members of the China-watching community combine the gift of the gab, with a modicum of knowledge of international affairs to feed already prevalent stereotypes, biases and suspicions about China in India. Of course, this phenomenon and these qualities also mark recently retired government officials. Today’s Indian government officials – whether within

234  Jabin T. Jacob the civil service, foreign service or the military – are exposed to China at some point of time or the other during their careers; recent retirees, especially in the last two categories, almost certainly have had something to do with China in at least the latter part of their careers. Being at the forefront of meeting the Chinese challenge as it were, and hobbled by lack of knowledge, institutional capacity or support from outside the four walls of government, officials are easily led to frustration, cover-ups or a reflexive defence of their policies or tenures. And from here it is only but a short step to reinforcement of stereotypes of China or attacks on other sections within the China watchers – in particular, academics – for their inability to provide ‘proper’ inputs or ‘quality’ analyses in a timely fashion or a policy-relevant manner. What allows biases and vituperation to dominate the airwaves is the fact that there are genuinely few people who either understand or can attempt to explain to an Indian audience what goes on vis-à-vis China in a rational fashion. That said, China being much more of a black box in Indian perceptions in comparison to Pakistan – the other ‘enemy’ in the Indian imagination – there is also, perhaps, greater willingness in sections of the government to listen more carefully to genuine expertise whenever it is available. Certainly, by the standards of invective that can be evident in the strategic community where Pakistan is concerned, the debate on China is relatively balanced and open to different opinions. China is also a considerably more dynamic actor than Pakistan is; its abilities and activities have grown exponentially and in multiple sectors in the decades since 1962 and particularly since its economic opening up and reforms began in 1978, and do not afford either Indian policymakers or analysts the luxury of easy generalizations and accusations but demand active analysis and engagement. As a result, there is greater sobriety – and unease – when it comes to China.

1962: 50 years on If Pakistan and China are considered the main countries that pose security challenges to India, then it is to Pakistan that the average Indian pays the most attention. This is as much the consequence of Partition and the continuing influence in Indian government of people involved in those events – directly or indirectly, even at a generation’s remove – as it is of the perceived opacity and mystery that surrounds China in the average Indian’s mind. Even an event as dramatic as the conflict of 1962, perhaps only managed to add a layer of suspicion to the ignorance that already marked views of China. Following the conflict, attention soon returned to Pakistan and feelings of hurt and inadequacy in the public mind over the conflict with China were perhaps assuaged by successive victories over Pakistan in 1965 and 1971.

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 235 China, however, has slowly returned to Indian public attention and this time to stay. This it has achieved in the main by virtue of its rapid economic growth. This growth has had consequences in India as well, both materially and intellectually. Materially, because Chinese products are today ubiquitous in Indian households; for instance, the mass spread of mobile telephony as a result of low-cost Chinese manufacturing has generated a veritable social revolution in India. Intellectually, because China’s economic growth has challenged many long-held political principles, including democracy and its efficacy in a poor, developing country; sections of the rising Indian middle class and elite impatient with urban inefficiencies and government populism perceived to be at their expense have become admirers of the Chinese model of development and delivery. Alongside, the rise of the Indian economy also creates opportunities for mutually beneficial trade and business for Indian businessmen whether small-time traders or corporate houses. That the two groups might exist in separate universes as far as skills, resources and the attention the Indian government gives them is a different matter but the point is that this factor then drives thinking on China in another separate trajectory that does not privilege a past of either conflict or traditional historical linkages with much importance. It is the here and the now that matter. However, combine China’s massive military modernization and its apparent grab for regional and global power with already existing narratives of betrayal over 1962 and of the suppression of the Tibetans, and there arises fear and suspicion over Chinese intentions and the feeling that something must be done to counter China. This then is the other major prong of thinking about China in India. It is largely this element that has occupied most Indian commentary in the wake of the 50th anniversary of the 1962 conflict. When these elements combine, it is, as the journalist Indrani Bagchi pointed out, that ‘The complexity of the relationship is illustrated by the fact that while 2012 was the “year of friendship”, it was also the 50th anniversary of the humiliating 1962 war’. The anniversary focused ‘attention on the military challenge of living next door to a budding superpower with weapons to match and a festering territorial dispute to solve’.2 This ‘attention’, then, came in the form of historical recollections and analysis of past events in the form of op-eds and editorials in major national and regional dailies. The Tribune of Chandigarh, in fact, ran a series ‘on the genesis of the war, India’s political and military blunders and the lessons the country has learnt and should learn’ – including even an article by a former Chinese ambassador to India3 – more or less representing what the other dailies were also engaged in. What follows is an attempt to delineate the major themes that this recollection by India’s strategic community covered.

236  Jabin T. Jacob

Recalling the conflict How exactly was the conflict of 1962 itself remembered, 50 years later? One writer notes: ‘The one-month long war between India and China in 1962 was not a full-blown war between two military powers. It was an army raid across the mountains.’4 This flies in the face of the seriousness with which the defeat of 1962 is viewed in most Indian minds, which is nothing less than an earth-shattering event that destroyed Indian Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru personally, robbed India of its post-colonial innocence and destroyed any pretensions of Third World – leave alone, global – leadership. Journalist Shekhar Gupta makes another interesting point, noting that the 1962 conflict ‘spawned more military literature and history than any other in independent India’ and that it was the fact of defeat that was responsible. This statement he buttresses with the claim that ‘a bulk of the post-1962 books have focused on the eastern front, which was more or less a total rout’, with Ladakh, where the Indian Army gave a better account of itself, only mentioned ‘in footnotes, or in passing’.5 Several authors such as, for example, historian A. G. Noorani,6 the journalist B. G. Verghese,7 and the former diplomat K. S. Bajpai8 provided in their writings in 2012 lessons to be learned from the experience while several features ran in newspapers where direct participants recalled events.9 Stories covered the experiences of the Indian community in China including of businessmen, scholars, and Kashmiri Muslims and Ladakhi Lamas in Tibet, of Chinese scholars with links to India,10 of former soldiers,11 Tibetan refugees12 and about the mistreatment of people of Chinese-origin in India.13 The battle of Rezang La was a particular favourite,14 given that it was one of the few that could be counted as a victory despite the almost complete destruction of Charlie Company of the 13 Kumaon under the leadership of Maj. Shaitan Singh. Several newspapers, in addition, carried stories covering goings-on from inside China that had a relation or bearing on events of 1962.15 Apart from the ‘lessons’, some themes stood out such as the apparent ‘abandonment’ of Assam16 and of Arunachal (then called the North East Frontier Agency), the non-use of the Indian Air Force (IAF) during the conflict and the continuing refusal of the government to release the report of the enquiry by Lt. Gen. T. B. Henderson Brooks and Brig. (later Lt. Gen.) P. S. Bhagat into the conduct of the Indian Army in the 1962 conflict. Talking of Arunachal in 2012, Kiren Rijju, then a former Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) Member of Parliament who had just rejoined the party (then the Opposition in Parliament), declared the people of Arunachal true Indians and held that after the fall of Bomdila not a single villager had thought about going to China and that the patriotism of Arunachalis ‘is

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 237 very high’.17 Others noted that it was defeat that forced the central government to ‘focus’ on Arunachal.18 At the same time one advantage of the defeat was that India ‘won Arunachal’s heart’ for Indian nationalism in the form of the Hindi language ‘won a long-drawn war of language crisis in the state’ forming the lingua franca of various Arunachal tribes who prior to 1962 had difficulty conversing with each other.19 There are still no definitive answers to why the IAF was not used in 1962 but 50 years later, Marshal of the IAF, Arjan Singh, declared that it was a mistake not to have done so given that operating from the lower altitudes of Assam would have been a great advantage.20 The IAF chief in 2012, Air Chief Marshal N.A.K. Browne, also stated that the 1962 conflict would have ended differently if the IAF had been used pointing out also that the Kargil conflict of 1999 ended three months sooner because of the use of the IAF.21 Marshal Singh also however acknowledged that from the point of view of the government the use of air power might have been seen as leading to an expansion of the theatre of war.22 There is also a contrarian view on the use of the IAF, which suggests that all that it could have done was delay the advance of troops of the People’s Liberation Army (PLA) in Arunachal, not halt it. Further bomb drops would also have mostly missed their targets, given the terrain especially in the east. The IAF would have also had to contend with the more numerous Chinese aircraft, which also had more recent operational experience flying in the Korean War of the early 1950s against a superior enemy.23 The Indian ‘victory’ of 1967 in a skirmish at Nathu La in Sikkim24 – one author called it a case of the Chinese being ‘taught a lesson’25 – and the quick and robust Indian reaction to Chinese incursions in 1986 at Sumdourong Chu26 are held up as matters of pride and recovery for the Indian Army. And yet, there is also the curious case of the reluctance to declassify the Brooks–Bhagat Report. In 2005, journalist and former MP Kuldip Nayar, using the Right to Information Act, sought a copy of the Report that should have been made available in the public domain 30 years after submission.27 The Ministry of Defence however refused to declassify claiming that disclosure would give away the army’s operational strategy in Northeast India and that ‘discussion on deployments had a direct bearing on the question of the Line of Actual Control between India and China’.28 This is an amazing claim nearly 50 years after the conflict, showing lack of clarity on military goals, lack of progress on achieving operational readiness and/or lack of any confidence in facing the Chinese. But since this appears largely to be a decision taken also by the bureaucrats and the political class, it is difficult to apportion blame entirely to the Indian Army. The non-release of the Brooks–Bhagat Report has been viewed as a betrayal of

238  Jabin T. Jacob Nehru’s promise to the nation29 and that without declassifying the Report the lessons of the conflict which would remain unlearned,30 in the debate on 1962 generating ‘more heat than light’.31 Even the Rashtriya S ­ wayamsevak Sangh (RSS), the parent organization of the ruling BJP today, has called for declassification;32 however, neither did a previous government with the BJP as the largest component release the report nor has the current BJP government with its majority in Parliament so far done so.

Reasons for failure or . . . whose fault was it? The reasons for failure in 1962 cover issues of capacity, competence, omission and systemic faults. In each instance, newspaper commentary was based on or quoted liberally from important works already in the public domain.33 Covering both areas of capacity and structural faults are problems such as a lack of military preparation, including poor infrastructure34 and ­inadequate military intelligence35 and of misreading the Chinese.36 Gen V.K. Singh in 2012, only recently retired as Indian Army chief, declared that in 1962, the armed forces were not equipped physically or psychologically for war.37 On another occasion Gen. Singh noted that India displayed neither strategic foresight nor planning in its execution of the conflict.38 Indeed, as one analyst pointed out, ‘An air of unreality surrounded India’s policy processes at that time relating to the higher defence management.’39 Tales of political divisions within India and the targeting of individuals, most prominently Nehru, are no less important a part of the narrative of 1962, 50 years later. Former Army chief, Gen. V.P. Malik, suggested that ‘ideological, short-sighted and emotional reasons’ led the government of the day to ignore or underplay geostrategic threats from China ‘till Parliament and public opinion forced the Government to adopt a military posture against China for which it was never prepared’.40 Indeed, pressure from India’s parliamentary opposition and from within the ruling Congress Party41 and the government’s need to produce white papers for debate has been considered as limiting Nehru’s options where quieter diplomacy might have produced a compromise solution.42 Intra-mural attacks are to be expected in post-conflict analyses, of course, and the trend has never let up in the 50 plus years since 1962. The former diplomat Bajpai, for instance, is scathing in his assessment of then Director of India’s Intelligence Bureau, B.N. Mullik.43 Similarly, the journalist Inder Malhotra also declares that ‘had Mullik, instead of messing around with policy that was none of his business, done his job of collecting intelligence on China, the course of events might have been different’.44 The journalist Nayar, meanwhile, talks about internal divisions within the Indian cabinet that stymied China policy. For instance, Gobind Ballabh

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 239 Pant, then Home Minister and Prime Minister Nehru disagreed about the appropriate response to China’s territorial creep in Aksai Chin while neither Pant nor Vijayalakshmi Pandit, Nehru’s sister, trusted Defence Minister Krishna Menon who they considered a communist.45 Problems between Nehru and the army are also highlighted.46 Meanwhile, it is on Nehru that the blame for the failure of 1962 is usually placed47 1962 has been called ‘a politically-determined military disaster’ by the historian Noorani who suggests that there were frequent opportunities since 1959 for Nehru to take pause and reflect and to heed the warning signals but that he ‘ignored them all’.48 Yet, accusations against Nehru cover both ends of the spectrum – he is portrayed as being ‘reluctant to annoy China’49 whereas Chinese documents released decades later suggest that Chinese Premier Zhou Enlai’s 1960 trip to India ended poorly and that, from Beijing’s point of view, Nehru did not seem to be interested in resolving the border dispute.50 That the Indian prime minister is on the one hand seen as being a pacifist while on the other the Chinese (and Indian analysts subsequently) have accused him of being a hardliner indicate the complexity of the situation and of the choices before Nehru. Of course, 50 years later, the criticism of Nehru has also been tempered by considerable scholarship, which has painted his actions of the time with greater nuance.51 Using simple metrics such as the increase in troop numbers and defence budgets from 1947 to 1962, the journalist Praveen Swami argued that accusations that Nehru ‘allowed the Indian military to slowly degenerate towards its catastrophic defeat in 1962’ were incorrect. Swami also notes that while Nehru made the wrong call, his assumptions were ‘not unreasonable’ given the prevailing global situation and his understanding of what he thought were China’s weaknesses and compulsions.52 Nehru himself, however, confessed, ‘artfully using the plural’ as Verghese put it, that ‘we were getting out of touch with reality . . . and living in an artificial world of our own creation’.53 If on occasion Nehru might be given a pass or the benefit of doubt, his Defence Minister Menon receives no such quarter.54 Journalist Shekhar Gupta was cutting when he suggested that the central New Delhi avenue named after Menon, ‘the man primarily responsible for not just the humiliation of 1962 but also the loss of so many lives’ and ‘an obstinate, autocratic disaster’, ought to be renamed after Maj. Shaitan Singh or after 13 Kumaon of Rezang La.55 And yet, even as Bajpai says, ‘let us not just blame individuals: the whole system, if one can call it that, was sheer Alice-in-Wonderland’; he does not target bureaucrats specifically for any blame. He leaves M. J. Desai, then foreign secretary unscathed, calls in parentheses Defence Joint Secretary Harish Sarin ‘a fine officer caught in a quandary’ and suggests that

240  Jabin T. Jacob ‘the Secretary General, External Affairs, and the Defence Secretary had no role’.56 And recasting accusations 50 years old of ‘ill-informed public debate and media hyper-nationalism that drove [Nehru’s] choices’,57 Bajpai tries to make a watertight case for his contentions by referring to the present as one where ‘public opinion has become less open to guidance, political circles have become even more impervious to facts, reality or sense, and our politico-administrative complex is more cumbersome, unproductive and parochial’.58 In other words, normal democratic processes and political prioritizing of domestic tasks are seen as lack of foreign policy attention and failures of strategy.

Understanding the Chinese, post-1962 A Times of India editorial in the 50th anniversary year of the conflict stated that, ‘as a society, India doesn’t invest in Chinese thought, language or culture and continue to train our attentions to Pakistan or the United States. You would be hard-pressed to find Chinese scholars in India’.59 That this should continue to be true over 50 years after defeat against China says a lot about the attitudes of successive Indian governments – or perhaps, more accurately that of the bureaucracy that is supposed to provide advice to the government – about exactly those things that discourse on 1962 over the years have harped on, about honour and of never again succumbing to defeat. Former Foreign Secretary Shyam Saran stated that ‘it is easy to accuse the Chinese of betrayal, as Nehru did after the 1962 war, but a clear awareness that deception is, after all, an integral element of Chinese strategic culture, may have spared us much angst in the past. Such awareness should certainly be part of our confronting the China challenge in the future’.60 Saran appeared to be implying two things. One, since it was he who was making this statement, there were people like him and, perhaps, others who possessed this ‘clear awareness’. Two, such awareness is limited to the portals of government, given that it has never acknowledged any failure of its policies with respect to China since 1962 nor acknowledged or required much by way of inputs from the China-watching community outside government. This then raises the issue of why such awareness or the opportunities to gain such knowledge have been limited to only the government. This lack of any great expertise on China outside of government and/ or of the unwillingness of the government to engage and taken on board what expertise exists in the universities and research institutes is surely one of the most significant failures since 1962. Indeed, it could well be that ‘expertise’ within government is simply a few specific individuals, usually from the Ministry of External Affairs and including some from the intelligence and security services, who have spent more time than the average

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 241 at dealing with China. This expertise then is the sum of years of professional experience and is likely to be very different from and possibly also lacking in the depth and context that scholarly study and engagement with China provide. But because academia is cut off entirely from inputs from policymakers except in the form of research or conference projects given through funding agencies to research institutions or to individual academics on broad themes, academic expertise on China also has its limitations in prescribing policy options. This then affects the quality of analysis of China resulting in either self-flagellation or ascription of rather too much capacity for strategic thinking to the Chinese. Bajpai, for instance, notes that China’s ‘current show of indifference represents the calculated pursuit of national ends, as against [India’s] excitable, ad hoc ways’,61 while another observer, the politician-lawyer Ram Jethmalani pulls out a Sun Zi quote to describe ­Chinese brilliance and the Indian lack of it: ‘All warfare is based on deception . . . Attack where the enemy is unprepared; sally out when it does not expect you. These are the strategist’s keys to victory.’62 References to Sun Zi are a dime a dozen in the daily parlance on China among India’s strategic community. These are however often used without context and without a simultaneous acknowledgement that if the Chinese were such Sun Zi enthusiasts or, indeed, if his dictums themselves were so fool proof, what then explained China’s many other missteps of domestic, foreign and security policies. Mao Zedong is the other great Chinese strategist, according to the Indians. As one article put it, comparing him with Nehru, ‘Mao was made of wilier stuff’.63 Another refers to ‘the thoroughness with which Mao and his top military and civilian advisers had planned the carefully calibrated, limited operation that they eventually delivered to “teach Nehru and India a lesson” ’.64 Several Indian commentators thus seem to suggest that strategic vision and capability are intrinsically Chinese qualities and expect India always to be at the receiving end; one article, for instance, declared that ‘the Chinese have a long term plan of breaking up India and converting it into a third rate military as well as economic power’, with neither sources nor rationale for the contention forthcoming.65 Such understandings of China are rather dominant in India with sections of the security community often expressing concerns sotto voce but sometimes also publicly about so-called leftists in Indian academia and about Indian big businesses influencing government policy in favour of easing restrictions against China and Chinese companies. This last most prominently came to the fore when, in July 2012, Ratan Tata, head of one India’s largest business conglomerates, declared that he wished India could ‘use China as a very strong ally, to forge a relationship with China which would

242  Jabin T. Jacob be a sustaining one’.66 Tata was quickly accused of lacking a clear understanding of the many dimensions and nuances of the Sino-Indian relationship and of being focused only on his economic interests.67

Will India and China fight a war again? The incidents at Nathu La in 1967 and in Sumdourong Chu in 1986, referred to briefly above, were practically the only publicly confirmed cases of military confrontation between the two sides since 1962 till until quite recently. Since about the late 2000s, however, a combination of factors has led to an increase in the number of news reports of what are known in India as ‘incursions’ by the Chinese PLA along the LAC. A brief examination of the whole issue of incursions is a useful preface to the question of how the issue of a potential for conflict between India and China was examined in 2012. To start with, it must be understood that incursions are a way of life along the LAC. For one, since the LAC itself is disputed between the two sides, Indian and Chinese troops patrol up to their own perceptions of the LAC. This is necessary in order to keep alive claims and access to territory in support of the boundary negotiations. Two, there are parts of the LAC where, due to bad weather or difficult terrain and in the absence of constant troop presence, the two sides intentionally or unintentionally cross into area perceived to be in the control of the opposite side. If patrols run into each other, meanwhile, there is an agreed protocol that the two sides follow in order to prevent matters from escalating. This protocol has been more successful than it is given credit for and has so far kept the peace. Next, is there an increase in the number of Chinese incursions, and if so, why? There is no doubt an increase in the numbers of PLA incursions over time simply because both Chinese and Indian troops are able to access more areas along the LAC as physical infrastructure in the region has improved. While the Chinese have the first-mover advantage in this respect, conditions on the Indian side too have improved and the Indian Army and the Indo-Tibetan Border Police (ITBP) patrols are now able to access more areas along the LAC than ever before. In other words, the Indians are now able to spot and record more Chinese incursions. This also, however, increases the possibilities of patrols running into each other, even leaving aside access to prior intelligence on movements that lead to patrols from one side knowing when the other is coming through. To take the case of just the Western Sector, one source put the number of Chinese incursions at 150 for 2005 and at about 240 for 2010,68 while another source put the number of incursions for 2010 at 228 and for 2011 at 213.69

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 243 While the numbers tell a specific story, the ‘increase’ in incursions is not just about numbers but also a matter of perception, given that for long hardly any information of this kind has ever come from the LAC. Residents in areas along the LAC in the Western and Eastern Sectors have always communicated to the Indian security forces, government officials and other visitors about the Chinese ‘nibbling away’ Indian territory. It is only however, with the coming of the 24-hour news cycle on Indian television that such issues have made it to the forefront of mainstream Indian attention. In the process, however, it also perhaps natural that LAC incursions sometimes get blown out of proportion. Feelings of resentment against China for the defeat of 1962, and of confusion and mystification about its foreign and security strategies and intentions are one part of the story. The other part has much to do with the fact that when LAC incursions started becoming ‘news’ in the late 2000s, it was Nehru’s party, the Congress, which led a coalition government at the centre and which was perceived to be repeating some of the same mistakes that were made in 1962. It did not help that Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and Defence Minister A.K. Antony were both perceived to be weak and lacking in decisiveness, and therefore, incapable of defending the country’s territory against China. However, when the Depsang incursion occurred in April–May 2013, on the eve of Chinese Premier Li Keqiang’s visit to India, despite the heavy criticism of the government it was also clear that Indian self-confidence and that in their Army’s abilities in dealing with China had advanced much. It did not matter that the Depsang incursion was of a significantly different nature from previous Chinese incursions – Chinese troops for the first time set up camp following an incursion – but Indian troop response was immediate and firm.70 And when Chinese troops refused to budge, India did not hesitate to take the issue all the way up the command chain to ­Beijing even threatening to call off Li’s visit altogether.71 This strong response of the UPA government notwithstanding, it was evident to observers that when the Chumur incident took place in September 201472 in the first few months of the new BJP-led National Democratic Alliance regime at the centre, there was far less worried commentary about the government’s capacity to deal with the incident, even as mystification about Chinese intentions continued. This context also influenced the debate on 1962. Fifty years on in 2012, it would seem that overall, and despite perhaps what can be called the neuroses evident in the writing of sections within India’s strategic community, Indian confidence had certainly improved. That 2012 is not 1962 was a refrain frequently heard.73 In 2012, Antony, Army Chief Gen. Bikram Singh and Air Force Chief Air Chief Marshal Browne were all on record assuring the country of the fighting abilities of the armed forces.74

244  Jabin T. Jacob One analyst went so far as to say that ‘all the Chinese have done with their poking, prodding and insulting is to finally wake the Indian elephant from its perpetual comatose state’, resulting in a build-up that would create a ‘serious Indian offensive threat’ to the Chinese in Tibet.75 Another observer, a former military officer, stated that India was better prepared 50 years on, ‘by way of knowledge of Chinese strategy, tactics, and weapon systems’ and that the armed forces had ‘gotten over the trauma of the 1962 War and will stand and fight’.76 India also had the satellites, specialized aircraft and electronic intelligence-gathering systems that ensured that the Chinese would no longer be able to mount the kind of surprise offensive that 1962 was.77 Another sign of confidence, perhaps, was the fact that the government was for the first time willing to commemorate those fallen in the 1962 conflict.78 In addition to privately organized commemorations, there was politics involved too, as in the case of the Bharatiya Janata Yuva Morcha, the youth wing of the BJP that was in the opposition in Parliament in 2012, embarking on a countrywide programme to remember Indian soldiers who died in 1962.79 Yet, accusations of not learning the lessons of 1962 have continued over 50 years later with commentators referring to apparent Indian servility80 or naiveté81 when it comes to dealing with China. It is, no doubt, this feeling that in large part also drives fears about renewed possibility of conflict with China despite the vastly changed national and international circumstances. In a review of the events of 1962, the diplomat Bajpai was willing to acknowledge that India had since made many achievements in terms of its defence preparedness but feared that ‘our bad habits have not improved while the vitiating pressures have become even more alarming’.82 Another analyst declared that government ‘decision-making is still characterized by ad hocism and a tendency to grandstand’ and that it had cost lives in the Kargil conflict with Pakistan.83 Sometimes, the consequences are contextualized with reference to what China was doing currently including, for instance, its assertiveness in the South China Sea.84 Even as it is also argued that China will no longer have ‘a cakewalk as in 1962’ in case it attacked India, the latter too, did not possess any worthwhile offensive capability to take the battle into Chinese territory.85 Former Indian Army Chief Gen. J.J. Singh also dismissed claims by ‘[m] any theorists’ who predicted war between China and India. Pointing out that a war was first predicted in the aftermath of the end of the Beijing Olympics in 2008, then for 2012 on the 50th anniversary of the conflict, Singh notes that those making such claims had no idea of the Himalayan region on either side or only undertaken quick tours of the region in good weather. Terrain and weather conditions together with the reality of nuclear weapons made any war unlikely in the extreme, according to Singh.86

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 245 Then Indian National Security Advisor Shivshankar Menon also argued against the inevitability of India and China becoming strategic adversaries and said that ‘such determinism [was] misplaced’. He noted that the two countries had successfully managed their differences while building on shared interests and handling problems ‘in a mature manner’.87 Some analysts also see businessmen on both sides preferring to focus on the huge opportunities that bilateral economic trade and investment would provide88 and implying thus that conflict would not be welcome on either side. There were also suggestions put forward for settling the boundary dispute. One unfeasible approach was the lawyer Ram Jethmalani’s suggestion that India take the dispute to the International Court of Justice.89 Former Director of Intelligence Bureau, T.V. Rajeswar suggested a return to the idea of a single package solution reached by the top political leadership on both sides at the highest level.90 One could argue that the horse has long bolted as far as this proposal is concerned, given that the Chinese are playing hardball in the Eastern Sector over Tawang. Still, the latter could very well be a Chinese negotiating strategy, pressures over their legitimacy in Tibet, notwithstanding, and as things stand, a boundary dispute resolution will indeed, require India and China to agree to cut the Gordian knot over redrawing their national boundaries.

Conclusion Writing in 2012, Shekhar Gupta suggested that ‘the wide interest now in the war with China’ was perhaps due to the fact the possibility ‘that for generations, the loser wishes he could fight the same battle, the same war, again, this time with different results of course’.91 This is a perceptive comment and explains well some of the gung-ho talk that continues to come out of sections of the security establishment as well as armchair strategists in India today. Speaking to journalists, former BJP Defence Minister Jaswant Singh noted that India had ‘not entirely come out of the trauma suffered in the wake of the 1962 India-China war. Psychologically, not entirely. . . we have to reverse that and for that we require robust leadership. The [robust] leadership is absent in India today’.92 While Singh may have been trying to score political brownie points, his view actually represented a widespread belief in the country. The victory of the BJP in the following national elections was as much about providing the required ‘robust leadership’ in the security domain as in other fields. So now that India has a supposedly ‘robust leadership’ from the right wing of the Indian political spectrum, does this mean that China policy will become better? And how would one define ‘better’? After a year in office

246  Jabin T. Jacob and a full cycle of high-level bilateral visits, including those of Chinese President Xi Jinping to India in September 2014 and of Prime Minister Narendra Modi to China in May 2015, what is different, if not new, is the greater stress on the economic part of the relationship and on the promotion of sub-national exchanges. On the boundary dispute and other strategic issues such as the Indian response to China’s new strategic ‘one belt, one road’ or ‘new Silk Roads’ initiative of economic and cultural diplomacy, the new Indian government appears to continue the approach of the previous government, which was as tough and hardnosed as they came. With time and with many of the protagonists as well as those with recall of 1962 passing from the scene, the 50th anniversary of the conflict may have been the last great outpouring of a collective national angst on the defeat of 1962. Today’s young Indians view China rather differently. Even as the defeat rankles and is not forgotten, there are also opportunities that the opening up to China provides, not least of the pecuniary kind. Thousands of small businessmen sell Chinese products while big corporates have access to Chinese loans on generous terms. There are also thousands of Indian students in China, the majority of whom never expected to be in the country as little as a year or less before they finally landed there taking advantage of educational opportunities and better infrastructure available at a much cheaper cost than in India. Indian movies are slowly becoming popular in China while Indian producers themselves are beginning to view their eastern neighbour as a possible opportunity for both filming and making money. This is not to say that these Indians are turning into Sinophiles, far from it. There is still much ignorance and stereotyping but as interactions grow, there are also opportunities for creating genuine bonds of friendship and understanding. The security dimension, meanwhile, will likely not disappear even if the boundary dispute were to be resolved. As two large powers living next door to each other with different political systems to boot, the modern history of international relations tells us this is a situation structurally wired towards conflict or, at the very least, rivalry of some sort. And yet, history and civilization also suggest that India and China should be able to look beyond the ‘blip’ of a short border conflict to pursue new ways of engagement and cooperation. For the moment though, the shadow of the conflict of 1962 lingers over Sino-Indian ties.

Notes 1 The author wishes to thank Shobita Kohli, Diskit Angmo and Renu Rana for research assistance on this chapter. All URLs were last accessed on 9 June 2015.

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 247 2 Indrani Bagchi, ‘India decides to fight back aggressive China’, The Times of India, 29 December 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/india/ India-decides-to-fight-back-aggressive-China/articleshow/17801193.cms. 3 Cheng Ruisheng, ‘Bridging China-India trust deficit’, The Tribune, 24 October 2012, http://www.tribuneindia.com/2012/20121024/edit.htm#6. 4 Shobhan Saxena, ‘Time to bury the ghosts of 1962, the war that wasn’t’, The Times of India, 7 October 2012, http://blogs.timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ Main-Street/time-to-bury-the-ghosts-of-1962-the-war-that-wasn-t/. 5 Shekhar Gupta, ‘National interest: 1962, a different story’, The Indian Express, 20 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/ national-interest-1962-a-different-story/1019401/. 6 A.G. Noorani, ‘Publish the 1962 War report now’, The Hindu, 2 July 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/article3591887.ece. 7 B.G. Verghese, ‘50 years after 1962: a personal Memoir’, South Asia Monitor, 7 September 2012, http://southasiamonitor.org/detail.php?type=years after&nid=3844. 8 K. Shankar Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson of 1962’, The Hindu, 2 November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/the-unlearnedlesson-of-1962/article4055276.ece. 9 For general memoirs see, The Hindu, ‘Memories of an unsung war’, 29 September 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/features/friday-review/ history-and-culture/memories-of-an-unsung-war/article3941699.ece; K. Pradeep, ‘Chronicle of a war retold’, The Hindu, 19 December 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/features/metroplus/chronicle-of-a-warretold/article4217471.ece. 10 Ananth Krishnan, ‘The dark shadow of war hurt many within China’, The Hindu, 18 November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/ the-dark-shadow-of-war-hurt-many-within-china/article4106419.ece. 11 The Times of India, ‘Memories of a war we’d like to forget’, 21 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/home/sunday-times/deep-focus/ Memories-of-a-war-wed-like-to-forget/articleshow/16898333.cms; Gupta and Shekhar, ‘Nobody believed we had killed so many Chinese at Rezang La: Our commander called me crazy and warned that I could be court-martialled’, The Indian Express, 30 October 2012, http:// archive.indianexpress.com/news/-nobody-believed-we-had-killed-somany-chinese-at-rezang-la.-our-commander-called-me-crazy-and-warnedthat-i-could-be-courtmartialled-/1023745/. 12 Sanjay Ojha, ‘Tibetan refugee recalls horrors of India-China war’, The Times of India, 23 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ city/ranchi/Tibetan-refugee-recalls-horrors-of-India-China-war/article show/16925443.cms. 13 Rita Chowdhury, ‘The Assamese Chinese story’, The Hindu, 25 November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/the-assamese-chi nese-story/article4106422.ece. 14 Manu Pubby, ‘The heroes of 1962’, The Indian Express, 21 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/the-heroes-of-1962/1019777/0; Mohan and Vijay, ‘India-China war 50 years later Part 5: In Ladakh it was last man, last round’, The Tribune, 19 October 2012, http://www.trib uneindia.com/2012/20121019/edit.htm#top; Gupta, ‘National interest: 1962, a different story’, The Indian Express, 20 October 2012, http://archive.

248  Jabin T. Jacob indianexpress.com/news/national-interest-1962-a-different-stor y/ 1019401/; Gupta, ‘Nobody believed’; Mohan Guru­swamy, ‘Don’t forget the heroes of Rezang La’, The Hindu, 20 November 2012, http://www. thehindu.com/opinion/lead/dont-forget-the-heroes-of-rezang-la/arti cle4112584.ece. 15 Saibal Dasgupta, ‘China hikes allowance for war veterans to boost morale of soldiers’, The Times of India, 1 October 2012, http://timesofindia. indiatimes.com/world/china/China-hikes-allowance-for-war-veteransto-boost-morale-of-soldiers/articleshow/16620798.cms. Saibal Dasgupta, ‘China leaves 1962 military triumph’s shadow behind’, The Times of India, 12 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/world/ china/China-leaves-1962-militar y-triumphs-shadow-behind/article show/16775213.cms; Krishnan, ‘The dark shadow’; Ananth Krishnan, ‘China city plans Nehru Museum, 50 years after war’, The Hindu, 25 November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/china-city-plans-nehrumuseum-50-years-after-war/article4130867.ece; Ananth Krishnan, ‘1962 war detrimental to both India and China’, The Hindu, 13 December 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/international/1962-war-detrimentalto-both-india-and-china/article4195469.ece. 16 Naresh Mitra, ‘1962 Sino-Indian war: Nehru’s speech still hurts Assam’, The Times of India, 10 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes. com/india/1962-Sino-Indian-war-Nehrus-speech-still-hurts-Assam/articleshow/16746435.cms. See also Mohan Guruswamy, ‘Will India and China fight a war again?’, South Asia Monitor, 28 September 2012, http:// southasiamonitor.org/detail.php?type=yearsafter&nid=3966. 17 Oinam Sunil, ‘ “Never again 1962” slogans rent the air at Bomdila’, The Times of India, 20 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ city/guwahati/Never-again-1962-slogans-rent-the-air-at-Bomdila/article show/16885644.cms. 18 Oinam Sunil, ‘Defeat in 1962 War compelled centre to focus on Arunachal’, The Times of India, 31 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes. com/city/guwahati/Defeat-in-1962-war-compelled-Centre-to-focuson-Arunachal/articleshow/17028894.cms. 19 Oinam Sunil, ‘India lost war with China but won Arunachal’s heart’, The Times of India, 1 November 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes. com/india/India-lost-war-with-China-but-won-Arunachals-heart/article show/17039530.cms. 20 Quoted in Manoj Joshi, ‘India-China relations after 50 years of Sino-India war’, Mail Today, 14 October 2012, http://indiatoday.intoday.in/story/ india-china-relations-after-50-years-of-sino-indian-war/1/224707.html. 21 The Times of India, ‘Indian Air Force could have changed 1962 China War outcome: Air Chief Browne’, 5 October 2012, http://timesofin dia.indiatimes.com/india/Indian-Air-Force-could-have-changed-1962China-war-outcome-Air-chief-Browne/articleshow/16689705.cms. 22 Quoted in Joshi, ‘India-China relations’. Others have agreed with this Assessment. For example Verghese, ‘50 years after 1962’. 23 Bharat Karnad, ‘Revisiting 1962, with ifs and buts’, The Asian Age, 10 October 2012, http://www.asianage.com/columnists/revisiting-1962ifs-and-buts-599.

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 249 24 Sheru Thapliyal, ‘The Nathu La Skirmish: when the Chinese were given a bloody nose’, Centre for Land Warfare Studies, Article No. 595, 27 May 2011, http://www.claws.in/595/the-nathu-la-skirmish-when-chinesewere-given-a-bloody-nose-sheru-thapliyal.html. 25 Guruswamy, ‘Will India and China fight’. 26 Inder Malhotra, ‘The past as prologue’, The Indian Express, 20 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/the-past-as-prologue/ 1019403/0. 27 See also Kishan S. Rana, ‘Battle lines of the 1962 War’, Business Standard, 17 September 2012, http://www.business-standard.com/india/news/ kishan-s-rana-battle-linesthe-1962-war/486611/. 28 Noorani, ‘Publish the 1962 War report’. 29 Ibid. 30 The Times of India, ‘50 years on, China is an opportunity as well as a challenge’, 10 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ india/50-years-on-China-is-an-opportunity-as-well-as-a-challenge/ articleshow/16746326.cms; The Indian Express, ‘Darkness of 1962’, 15 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/darknessof-1962/1016706/0; The Indian Express, ‘Make 1962 Report public: Army Officers’, 15 October 2012, http://indianexpress.com/arti cle/news-archive/web/make-1962-report-public-army-officers/0/; The Indian Express, ‘Tales of war’, 20 October 2012, http://archive.indianex press.com/news/tales-of-war/1019390/. 31 C. Raja Mohan, ‘The contested periphery’, The Indian Express, 18 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/the-contested-peri phery/1018803/. 32 Ravish Tiwari, ‘China’s ghost’, The Indian Express, 15 November 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/china-s-ghost/1031115/0. 33 These include among others Neville Maxwell’s India’s China War, B.N. Mullik’s Chinese Betrayal, and those by retired Army officers involved in the conflict such as Lt. Gen. B.M. Kaul’s The Untold Story, Maj. Gen. D.K. Palit’s War in High Himalaya, Maj. Gen. Niranjan Prasad’s Fall of Towang and Brig. J.P. Dalvi’s Himalyan Blunder. 34 Kuldip Nayar, ‘A Chinese encounter’, Business Standard, 14 July 2012, http://www.business-standard.com/india/news/a-chinese-encounter/ 480333/; Business Standard, ‘Roads to readiness’, 20 September 2012, http://www.business-standard.com/india/news/roads-to-readiness-/ 486951/; The Indian Express, ‘We were not prepared for 1962 War mentally, physically: V K Singh’, 25 September 2012, http://www.indian express.com/news/we-were-not-prepared-for-1962-war-mentally-physi cally-v-k-singh/1007558/0; Manoj, ‘India-China relations’. 35 The Indian Express, ‘Lack of preparedness, intelligence failure led to 1962 War defeat: Gen V K Singh’, 20 October, http://archive.indian express.com/news/lack-of-preparedness-intelligence-failure-led-to-1962war-defeat-gen-v-k-singh/1024182/0. 36 Ananth Krishnan, ‘China documents reveal ignored warnings, missed opportunities’, The Hindu, 19 October 2012, http://www.thehindu. com/news/national/china-documents-reveal-ignored-warnings-missedopportunities/article4013815.ece; R.K. Nehru quoted in A.G Noorani,

250  Jabin T. Jacob ‘Fateful “Note” ’, Frontline, 29(14), (July 2012), pp. 14–27, http://www. frontline.in/static/html/fl2914/stories/20120727291409100.htm. 37 The Indian Express, ‘We were not prepared’. 38 V.P. Malik, ‘India-China War 50 Years later Part 3: No foresight, no planning saw defeat’, The Tribune, 17 October 2015, http://www.tribunein dia.com/2012/20121017/edit.htm#6. 39 P.R. Chari, ‘India-China War 50 years later part 4: Sidelining army was a grave error’, The Tribune, Chandigarh, 18 October 2012, http://www. tribuneindia.com/2012/20121018/edit.htm#6. 40 Malik, ‘India-China War 50 years later’. 41 Guruswamy, ‘Will India and China fight a war again?’; ibid., ‘In dubious battle’. 42 Vikram Doctor, ‘1962 India-China War: Why India needed that jolt’, The Economic Times, 7 October 2012, http://economictimes.indiatimes.com/ news/politics/nation/1962-india-china-war-why-india-needed-that-jolt/ articleshow/16703076.cms. 43 Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson’. 44 Malhotra, ‘The past as prologue’. 45 Nayar, ‘A Chinese encounter’. See also chapter 2, Amit Das Gupta. 46 Verghese, ‘50 years after 1962’. It is also a fact that the Army itself was not able to provide viable alternatives to the Forward Policy for the Indian leadership. Srinath Raghavan, ‘Sino-Indian boundary dispute, 1948–60: A reappraisal’, Economic and Political Weekly, 9 September 2006, https://china indiaborderdispute.files.wordpress.com/2010/07/1253181057-epw-sino indian-bdy_srinath.pdf. 47 Noorani, ‘Fateful “Note” ’. 48 Quoted in Noorani, ‘Fateful “Note” ’. 49 Nayar, ‘A Chinese encounter’. 50 Ananth Krishnan, ‘Crossing the point of no return’, The Hindu, 25 October 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/crossing-the-pointof-no-return/article4028362.ece. See also chapter 2, Amit Das Gupta, Dai Chaowu. 51 See, for example, Raghavan, ‘Sino-Indian boundary dispute’. 52 Parveen Swami, ‘Lessons from the gate of hell’, The Hindu, 21 March 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/op-ed/lessons-from-the-gate-ofhell/article5810987.ece. 53 Verghese, ‘50 years after 1962’. 54 Malhotra, ‘The past as prologue’. 55 Gupta, ‘National interest: 1962’. 56 Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson’. 57 Swami, ‘Lessons from the gate of hell’. 58 Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson’. 59 The Times of India, ‘50 years on’. 60 Shyam Saran, ‘India-China war 50 years later part 8: Understanding ­China’s world view’, The Tribune, Chandigarh, 22 October 2012, http:// www.tribuneindia.com/2012/20121022/edit.htm#6. 61 Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson’. 62 Ram Jethmalani, ‘China threat cannot be ignored’, The Sunday Guardian, 2012, http://www.sunday-guardian.com/analysis/china-threat-can not-be-ignored.

Remembering 1962 in India, 50 years on 251 3 Guruswamy, ‘Will India and China fight’. 6 64 Malhotra, ‘The past as prologue’. 65 Jethmalani, ‘China threat’. 66 Rediff.com, ‘China a second class enemy; could be a strong ally: Tata’, 9 July 2012, http://www.rediff.com/news/slide-show/slide-show-1-chinaa-second-class-enemy-could-be-a-strong-ally-ratan-tata/20120709.htm. 67 Venky Vembu, ‘China as India’s ally: why Ratan Tata is wrong’, First Post, 10 July 2012, http://www.firstpost.com/world/china-as-indias-allywhy-ratan-tata-is-wrong-373302.html; and Raman B., ‘My take on Tata’s remarks on China’, Chennai Centre for China Studies, Paper No. 1006, 10 July 2012, http://www.c3sindia.org/india/2980. 68 R.N. Ravi, ‘Smaller nations stand up to China’s hegemony, we don’t’, Rediff. com., 29 April 2013, http://www.rediff.com/news/column/smaller-nationsstand-up-to-chinas-hegemony-we-dont/20130429.htm. 69 Rahul Datta, ‘Chinese transgression stirs row’, Daily Pioneer, 19 August 2012, http://www.dailypioneer.com/home/online-channel/360-todays-news paper/88342-chinese-transgression-stirs-row.html. 70 Hindustan Times, ‘China incursion: what exactly happened?’, 25 April 2013, http://www.hindustantimes.com/India-news/NewDelhi/Chinaincursion-What-exactly-happened/Article1–1050197.aspx. 71 Indrani Bagchi, ‘Doormat diplomacy’, The Times of India, 18 May 2013, http://www.timescrest.com/opinion/doormat-diplomacy-10354. 72 The Hindu, ‘More Chinese soldiers intrude into Chumar through different point’, 20 September 2014, http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/ more-chinese-soldiers-intrude-into-chumar-through-different-point/arti cle6429971.ece. 73 Saxena, ‘Time to bury the ghosts’, Joshi, ‘India-China relations’, Tribune, ‘Repeat of 1962 defeat impossible’, 19 October 2012, http://www.tribune india.com/2012/20121019/nation.htm#8. 74 The Hindu, ‘For the first time, martyrs of 1962 War officially honoured’, 20 October 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/news/national/for-thefirst-time-martyrs-of-1962-war-officially-honoured/article4015960.ece; Tribune, ‘Repeat of 1962’. 75 Quoted in Joshi, ‘India-China relations’. 76 Ibid. 77 Joshi, ‘India-China relations’. 78 The Indian Express, ‘Nation pays homage to martyrs of 1962 war for first time’, 20 October 2012, http://archive.indianexpress.com/news/ nation-pays-homage-to-martyrs-of-1962-war-for-first-time/1019681/; The Indian Express, ‘Memorial Day’, 6 November 2012, http://archive. indianexpress.com/news/memorial-day/1027279/. 79 Naresh Mitra, ‘Tribute to martyrs who defended McMahon Line’, The Times of India, 2 October 2012, http://timesofindia.indiatimes.com/ city/guwahati/Tribute-to-martyrs-who-defended-McMahon-Line/arti cleshow/16635829.cms. 80 Jethmalani, ‘China threat’. 81 Brahma Chellaney, ‘Scorched by the dragon’, Hindustan Times, 12 December 2012, http://www.hindustantimes.com/News-Feed/ColumnsOth ers/Scorched-by-the-Dragon/Article1–972020.aspx. 82 Bajpai, ‘The unlearned lesson’.

252  Jabin T. Jacob 3 Guruswamy, ‘In dubious battle’. 8 84 Chellaney, ‘Scorched by the dragon’. 85 Vijay Mohan, ‘China modernises while India lags behind’, The Tribune, 20 October 2012, http://www.tribuneindia.com/2012/20121020/ edit.htm#10. See also Dinesh Kumar, ‘Can India militarily take on China today?’, The Tribune, Chandigarh, 20 October 2012, http://www.tribune india.com/2012/20121020/edit.htm#10. 86 J.J. Singh, ‘Military cooperation can warm up ties with China’, The Tribune, 5 December 2012, http://www.tribuneindia.com/2012/20121205/edit. htm#6. See also Guruswamy, ‘Will India and China fight a war again?’. 87 Shivshankar Menon, ‘Speech by NSA on “Developments in India-China Relations” ’, Speeches & Statements, The Chinese Embassy, New Delhi, Ministry of External Affairs, Government of India, 9 January 2012, http://www. mea.gov.in/Speeches-Statements.htm?dtl/17101/Speech+by+NSA+ on+Developments+in+IndiaChina+Relations. 88 Ravi Bhoothalingam, ‘Trade in the ghosts of 1962’, The Hindu, 15 November 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/opinion/lead/trade-in-the-ghostsof-1962/article4095609.ece. 89 Jethmalani, ‘China threat’. 90 T.V. Rajeswar, ‘India-China border dispute: What can be a possible solution’, The Tribune, Chandigarh, 3 November 2012, http://www.tribu neindia.com/2012/20121103/edit.htm#4. See also, Noorani, ‘Fateful “Note” ’. 91 Gupta, ‘National interest: 1962’. 92 Quoted in The Hindu, ‘Country has not entirely come out of 1962 War trauma: Jaswant’, 7 September 2012, http://www.thehindu.com/ todays-paper/tp-national/country-has-not-entirely-come-out-of-1962war-trauma-jaswant/article3868439.ece; Noorani, ‘Publish the 1962 war report’.

Index

Afro-Asian Conference (1955) 30, 36 Afro-Asian countries 29, 34, 36, 134, 163 – 7,  171 Afro-Asian Movement 35 – 6, 169 – 70 Afro-Asian world 39 – 41, 162 – 3, 165, 206 Agrarian revolution 21, 197 – 8, 200, 202, 207 – 9 Aksai Chin 4 – 5, 7, 10, 12 – 13, 18, 33 – 4, 48, 53 – 6, 58 – 62, 74, 76 – 8, 91 – 2, 94 – 5,  239 Algeria 36 Anglo-Russian Convention 7 Anglo-Russian Treaty 3 April 1960 summit 58 – 62 Ardagh, John 3 Arpi, Claude 15 Asian Relations Conference 8 Assamese Chinese 225 Bajpai, Girja Shankar 8, 31 Bandung Conference (April 1955) 71 Bara Hoti 9 – 10, 18, 52, 54 – 6, 62, 73 Beijing 2, 33, 36, 72 Bhabha, Homi 37 Bhutto, Zulfikar Ali 128 Bogra, Mohammed Ali 126 Border, unsettled 40, 88 – 9, 93 Border agreement 33 – 4, 59, 77, 94, 136 – 7 Border/boundary dispute 12 – 13, 18, 19, 32, 49, 55, 59 – 62, 69, 73,

75 – 6, 80, 85, 87 – 8, 91, 93 – 4, 96, 128, 197, 204 – 6, 209, 239, 245 – 6 Border conflict 15, 30, 68, 153, 163, 168 Border demarcation 129 Border tension 10, 203 Border War: Chinese attack on India in 1962 36 Boundary issues 48, 53, 74 – 5, 92 Boundary settlements 85, 94, 96 Bowles, Chester 31 British Defence Coordination Committee 127 British imperialism 33 Bundy, William 114 Cadre Conference 88 Castro, Fidel 36 Ceylon 21, 35, 79, 164 – 5, 167, 170 China: policy of conciliation 85 – 97 China-India Border 13 China watchers 233 – 4 Chinese, in India 215 – 30 Chinese internment 227 – 9 China’s India policy 68 – 9, 71, 73, 75, 77, 79 China’s policy 68, 76, 79, 85, 87 – 9, 91, 93, 95 – 7 Chinese ancestry 218 – 19 Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 51 – 2, 69, 71 – 80, 200 – 3, 202, 206, 209 Chinese bomb 39 Chinese Communist 8, 31, 34

254 Index Chinese Communist Party (CCP) 51, 69, 71, 73, 200 Chinese community 215, 217, 219, 226 Chinese delegation 5, 7, 54, 60, 89 Chinese Embassy 54, 72 Chinese Foreign Ministry 68 Chinese government 69 Chinese incursions 237, 242 – 3 Chinese Indians 221 Chinese-language literature 15 Chinese Nationalist Government 69 Chinese occupation of Tibet 9, 69, 127 Chinese preparations for negotiation 73 – 5 Chinese residents 219 – 20 Chip Chap Valley 11 Chuje [Spiti] 73 Cold War 16, 20, 32, 50, 68, 106 – 7, 114, 124, 137, 161, 173, 210 Cold War International History Project 17 Colombo 35, 167 – 8 Colombo Conference 79, 168, 170 – 3 Commonwealth 112 Communist China 10, 17 – 18, 29 – 31, 34, 36, 40 – 1, 117 – 19,  136 Communist Party of India (CPI) 2, 21, 147, 150, 170, 197 – 210; border tension and 203 – 4; foundation of 197 – 201; Indian communists 21, 198, 202, 209; parliamentary democracy and struggles within 201 – 3; war, declaration of emergency and 204 – 9 Communist Part of the Soviet Union (CPSU) 17, 200 – 3 Community, strategic 233 – 5, 241, 243 Compromise settlement 85, 92, 95 – 6 Conflict of 1962 236 – 8 Congress Party 21 Constitution of India 181 – 3, 185, 187, 189, 191, 193; constitutional framework of 181 – 4; fundamental

rights and emergency powers 181 – 4; Sino-Indian Border War 184 – 91; 1962 war emergency 181 – 94 Contemporary China 15 Cuban Missile Crisis 150 – 2 Cultural Revolution 36 Curzon, George 6 Czechoslovak Socialist Republic 17 Dalai Lama 10, 33, 73 Decision-making mechanisms 142 Defence of India Act 21 – 2, 184, 188 – 91 Defence of India Ordinance 184 – 6, 188, 205 Defence of India Rules 184 – 5, 187 – 90 Deoli Camp 220 – 1, 227 – 9 Detention order 182, 185, 188 – 91 Ding, Guoyu 129 Divergence 73 – 5 Dutt, Rajani Palme 201 Dutt, Subimal 12, 16, 18, 48 – 63 The East India Company 1857 3 East Pakistan 38, 41, 136, 184, 208 Emergency, proclamation of 181, 183 – 5, 190 – 3 Emergency powers 181, 184, 192 Eisenhower, Dwight D. 59 Fisher, Margaret W. 13 ‘Five Fingers’ of Tibet 3 Foreign Policy (1960–62), Chinese approaches to 86 – 8 Fravel, M. Taylor 14 Frontier dispute 68 – 80 F-104 supersonic fighters 109 Fundamental Rights: and emergency powers 181 – 4; proclamation of 184 – 91 Galbraith, John Kenneth 107, 109, 113, 114, 116, 117 Galwan Valley 11 Gandhi, Indira 38 Gengsheng, Zhou 71 German Democratic Republic 17 Ghosh, Ajay 201

Index  255 Ghosh, Suchita 13 Goa crisis 107 – 11 Gobi desert 72 Gore, David Ormsby 106 Great Leap Forward (1958–60) 14, 19 Gromyko, Andrei A. 40 Gupta, Karunakar 14 Haksar, P.N. 16 Harriman, Averell W. 115, 116, 129 Harriman-Sandys Mission 106 Henderson Brooks–Bhagat Report 13 Himalayas 11, 21, 29 Himmatsinjhi Committee 9 ‘Hindi-Chini Bhai-Bhai’ 68 – 80 Hoffmann, Steven A. 15 Huttenback, Robert A. 13 Imperial China 3, 7 India: and China, war 242 – 5; China’s strategy with 69 – 73; Chinese in 215 – 30; Deoli camp 227 – 9; emotions and memory 221 – 7; intimate archives, of state action 221 – 7; relations with China 29 – 41; state’s mandate, disenfranchised by 216 – 20 India, proclamations of emergency in 191, 194 India-China War 217, 245 Indian air defence 116 – 19 Indian Army 5, 11, 107, 113 – 14, 134, 201, 236 – 7, 242 Indian bomb project 37 Indian Chinese 219, 222 Indian citizens of Chinese origin 22, 217 Indian democracy 14 Indian economy 235 Indian embargo 72 Indian Intelligence Bureau (IB) 11 Indian politics 14, 199, 210, 215 Indians of Chinese origin 57 Indian-Tibetan trade 72 Indonesia 35 – 6, 79, 160, 165 – 70, 173 – 4 Indo-Pakistan 115 – 16 Indo-Pakistani Kashmir talks 133 – 5

Indo-Pakistani wars 36, 135 – 6 Institutional re-alignments 181 – 94 International class struggle 68 – 80 International condemnation of India 38 Islamic Conference 39 Istochnik (Journal) 17 Jakarta 35 Jiakang, Chen 71 Jinnah, Mohammed Ali 125 Johnson, Lyndon B. 120 Johnson, W.H. 3 Kapur, Balraj Krishna 72 Kashmir dispute 96, 106, 115, 116 – 19, 128 – 30,  132 Kaul, T.N. 16, 51, 71 Kaysen, Carl 132 – 3 Kennedy, John F. 87, 105, 107, 109, 110, 111, 114, 116, 118, 119, 132, 134, 136, 146 Khrushchev, Nikita S. 30, 108, 144, 145 Khyber Pass 3 Komer, Robert 110 Kongka Pass 10 Korean War 31, 69 Kunlun [Kuen Lun] mountains 3 Left-wing communists 197 – 8, 203, 207, 209 Lenin, Vladimir I. 198 Liu, Shaoqi 87 Liu, Xuecheng 14 MacCartney-MacDonald Line 3, 12 McConaughy, Walter P. 131, 132 McMahon, Henry 5, 7, 32 McMahon Line 7 – 10, 12 – 13, 31 – 3, 51, 53, 56 – 9, 68 – 72, 73, 76 – 7, 79, 89 – 90, 95, 112, 132, 203 – 5 Macmillan, Harold 108, 116, 118, 133 McNamara, Robert 112 Malaya [Malaysia] 31 Mao, Zedong 16, 69, 86, 90, 105, 144, 163, 171, 241 Maoism 22, 201, 208 – 10 Maxwell, Neville 14

256 Index Mehra, Parshotam 13 Mehta, Jagat S. 12 Menon, Shivshankar 245 Menon, V.K. Krishna 11, 34, 48, 49, 61 MiG-21 deal 107 – 11 MiG-21 supersonic fighters 109 Ministry of External Affairs (MEA) 8, 12 – 13, 16, 49 – 52, 60 – 1, 69, 143, 162 Mirs of Hunza 127 Mullik, B.N. 12 NATO 19, 107, 109 Ne, Win 33 Nehru, Jawaharlal 2, 8 – 9, 16, 29, 48, 51, 73, 75, 76, 92, 105, 110, 111, 114, 116, 143, 161, 201; calling Zhou a ‘hard rock’ 34; death in 1964; ‘lessening of tension’ 32; military conflict in Himalayas 34 Nehru, R.K. 35 Nehru government 18, 19, 48, 51, 59 – 60, 106, 109, 112 – 13, 115, 117, 151, 125, 144 – 5, 149, 153, 199, 203 Nehru–Zhou Enlai summit 48 Nixon, Richard M. 38 Non-aligned countries 2, 20, 35, 162 – 5, 167 – 70, 173 – 4 Non-Aligned Movement 17, 35; saving non-alignment 160 – 1, 163, 165, 167, 169, 171, 173 Noorani, A.G. 13 North East Frontier Administration 69, 92 Northeast Frontier Agency (NEFA) 31 North East Frontier Association 3, 8, 48 Northern Warlords Government 71 North West Frontier Province (NWFP) 3, 7 Nuclear Non-Proliferation Treaty 37 Nuclear weapons 30, 36 – 7, 39, 41, 119, 244 ‘Operation Vijay’ 107

Pakistan, and 1962 124 – 37; Chinese threat 126 – 8; disappointment about United States 132 – 3; Indo-Pakistani Kashmir talks 133 – 5; Indo-Pakistani wars 135 – 6; Sino-Pakistani border negotiations 128 – 31; weighing options 125 – 6 Pakistan-China Border Agreement 130 Pakistani decision-makers 124 Palit, D.K. 13 Panch Sheel 32 – 3,  41 Panikkar, K.M. 8 – 9, 51, 71 Parliamentary democracy 201 – 3 Parthasarathy, Gopalaswami 93 Patel, Sardar Vallabhbhai 8, 51 Peaceful coexistence 69 – 73 ‘Peaceful explosion’ 39 People of Chinese origin 216, 218 – 20 People’s Liberation Army (PLA) 11, 61, 68, 72 People’s Republic of China (PRC) 1 – 2, 15, 18 – 19, 21 – 2, 29 – 38, 40 – 1, 48, 59, 69, 71, 73, 75, 85 – 7, 89 – 90, 93 – 6, 105, 146, 160, 165 – 6 Pillai, N.R. 51 Portuguese colonialism 107 Preventive detention 182 – 3, 185, 189, 191 – 3 Qadir, Manzur 128 Raghavan, Srinath 15 Rao, K. Krishna 13 Ray, Jayanta Kumar 15 Republican Chinese government 7 Republic of China (ROC) 30 Revolutionary strategy 197 – 8, 200, 204 Rose, Leo E. 13 Roy, M.N. 21, 198 Rusk, Dean 112 – 15 Sandys, Duncan 117, 118, 133 Second Bandung Conference 35, 41 The Selected Works of Jawaharlal Nehru (Nehru) 12, 16

Index  257 ‘Self-defence–Counterattack War’ 1 Shastri, Lal Bahadur 37 Shen, Zhihua 16 Shoaib, Mohamed 129 Siam [Thailand] 31 Simla Accord 9 Simla Conference (1914) 5, 71 Simla Convention (1914) 69 – 71 Sino-Indian agreement 72 Sino-Indian border conflict 20, 85, 132, 153, 160, 169; Afro-Asian attempts, mediation 164 – 7; boundary dispute and 88 – 94; boundary settlements, neighbouring states 94 – 6; Colombo mediation 170 – 3; and international reactions 163 – 4; non-aligned countries, diplomatic efforts 160 – 74; preliminary non-aligned reactions 161 – 3; Yugoslavia’s non-aligned attempts, mediation 167 – 70 Sino-Indian border dispute 20, 48, 68, 76, 78 – 9, 109, 173 Sino-Indian Border War: Britain and 105 – 20; Indian air defence and 116 – 19; Kashmir dispute and 116 – 19; prehistory of 48 – 63; Soviet Union and 142 – 53; United States and 105 – 20 Sino-Indian estrangement 143 – 4 Sino-Indian friendship 78 Sino-Indian negotiations 51, 70 Sino-Indian rapprochement 32 Sino-Indian relationship 12, 15 – 17, 20, 32, 62, 72, 75 – 6, 88, 145 – 6, 150, 168, 173, 205, 242 Sino-Pakistani Border 128, 135 South East Asia Treaty Organization (SEATO) 87 – 8,  125 Soviet–Chinese alliance 20 Soviet–Chinese friendship 142 Soviet-Indian relations 151 Soviet leadership 142, 144, 150, 152 – 3,  169 Soviet policy, in Asia 144 – 7 Soviet Union 18, 34; in post-war era 151 – 3; Soviet Union’s twisted diplomacy 147 – 51

State repression, anti-Chinese 217, 221 Suhrawardy, Huseyn Shaheed 126 Supreme Court 21, 59, 182, 186 – 8, 190 – 1 Tawang District 9, 69 Thagla 11 Thompson, Llewellyn 110 Tibet Agreement 9, 32, 41, 51 Tibetan government 10, 53, 69 Tibetan–Indian border 90 Tibetans 7, 57, 72, 74 – 5, 89, 127, 235 Tibetan uprising 33, 48, 56 – 8, 62, 90, 126; Tibetan rebellion 69, 75 – 6, 79,  89 Tibet Bureau of Foreign Affairs 72 Tito, Josip Broz 35 ‘Totalitarian creed’ 30 ‘Traditional border’ 33, 53 Treaty of Lhasa 7 United Arab Republic (UAR) 21, 160, 162, 164 – 5, 167 – 70,  173 The United Nations and nuclear weapons, 1964 – 74 36 – 40 United Nations General Assembly 35 United Nations Security Council 29 – 30, 36 – 7, 39 – 40,  108 United States of America 19, 34, 36 Vertzberger, Yaacov 14 Vietnam War 16, 36, 38 Voice of America (VOA) transmitter 116, 117 Wang, Jiaxiang 86 War emergency 181, 183, 185, 187, 189, 191, 193 West Bengal 57, 202, 205, 207 – 9,  220 Whiting, Allen S. 14, 86 Woodman, Dorothy 13 World War II 7, 29 Wu Je [Bara Hoti] 9 – 10, 18, 52, 54 – 6, 62,  73

258 Index Xikang 7 Xinjiang (Sinkiang) 10, 33, 68 Yang, Gongsu 70, 90 Younghusband, Francis 7 Yuan, Zhongxian 72 Yugoslavia 17, 20, 32, 35, 39, 55, 145, 160 – 2, 167 – 71,  173

Zhang, Hanfu 78 Zhang, Jingwu 69 Zhang, Wenjin 93 Zhou, Enlai 9 – 12, 32 – 6, 49, 52 – 4, 56 – 60, 62, 73, 76 – 9, 86, 87, 89 – 92, 95 – 6, 126 – 7, 130, 165, 171 – 2 Zhou, Gengsheng 71 Zhou–Nehru summit 75 – 9