Author: Inder Malhotra
Publication: The Indian Express
Date: March 6, 2007
URL: http://www.indianexpress.com/story/24819.html
Introduction: He had a sharp mind and an impressive
capacity for hard work. He also had wit. But the advantages of these attributes
were virtually obliterated by his sharp tongue, insufferable arrogance and
an ego of cosmic proportions
In 1987, while researching in Britain's Public
Records Office (PRO) close to London's Kew Gardens, I was startled by the
contents of a slim file. It was marked 'top secret', before its declassification,
and related to the period when V.K. Krishna Menon - until then, as founder-president
of the India League, a virtual representative in the UK of the country's freedom
movement - had just taken over as independent India's first high commissioner
to the Court of St. James.
The file contained only two documents and
their originator, MI5, Britain's internal intelligence and counter-espionage
agency, considered them important enough to be sent to Prime Minister Clement
Attlee, who had initialled both. One was the transcript of a telephonic conversation
between Sudhir Ghosh, PRO at India House, and Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel in
New Delhi. As Khushwant Singh, then Ghosh's deputy, has recorded more than
once, Patel, as home and information minister, had installed Ghosh in London
to "spy" on Menon. The second document was a copy of a brief but
sensitive communication Menon had sent to V.M. Molotov, the Soviet foreign
minister. Describing the message as "sinister", MI5 had added that
it had obtained the highly secret paper "through our usual method".
The redoubtable Sardar obviously shared MI5's
view of Menon. If he could have helped it, he would have prevented his appointment
as high commissioner. This, he knew, as an arch-realist, was impossible, given
Menon's proximity to and friendship with Jawaharlal Nehru. So he did the next
best thing, and planted a spook in the high commission. Menon proved more
resourceful, however, and soon succeeded in giving Ghosh a one-way air ticket
back to Delhi.
The point about this preamble is that if top
Indian leaders (Maulana Azad, though closer to Nehru, shared Patel's distrust
of Menon) were suspicious, then it was absolutely natural that the British
dislike and suspicion of him should have been a lot more intense. Consequently,
there is nothing startling or new in the latest instalment of MI5 documents
released in Britain. The only purpose they serve is to bring back memories
of this prickly and extremely controversial personality.
It was never a secret that at the time of
independence, with the exception of Nye Bevan and possibly Stafford Cripps,
no British Labour minister was friendly with him. The Conservatives were openly
hostile. His leftist ideology, anathema to MI5 and MI6, was transparent. So
was the love life of this life-long bachelor. To dig up his affair with the
'left-leaning' Ms Bridget Tunnard was no intelligence scoop. Everyone who
visited the Indian League office knew it. The only thing new in the recently
declassified M15 documents is the virulence of the obloquy heaped on Menon's
head.
Shortly after reports about these papers came
in, I asked a retired diplomat what he thought of them. "Were I an Englishman,"
he replied, "my reaction would have been exactly the same. My feelings
are roughly the same as an Indian, too." There is something in what he
said, but I would partially disagree. Like all individuals, Menon was complex
though contradictions in his personality were far more numerous than in most.
He had a sharp mind and an impressive capacity for hard work. He also had
wit. But the advantages of these attributes were virtually obliterated by
his sharp tongue, insufferable arrogance and an ego of cosmic proportions
that were enough to infuriate most people at home and abroad.
Yet it should not be overlooked that he had
his admirers everywhere - even in the US where he was generally disliked even
more because of his unconcealed anti-Americanism, which should explain why
Time called him "Hindu Vyshinsky",
Andrei Vyshinsky being the prosecutor at Stalin's
show trials and later a combative foreign minister - and surely at home. Even
today there is a Krishna Menon Society and a New Delhi academic is writing
eight volumes on him. To far more people, however, he was off-putting because
of his congenital rudeness. After his famous nine-hour speech on Kashmir at
the UN Security Council in 1957, during which he lambasted both the US and
Britain, the British delegate, Sir Pierson Dixon, laughingly told him, "No
hard feelings, Krishna, we have a very thick skin." "I know, Pierson,"
retorted Menon, "that's why you Britons made the best boots in the world".
Nehru's decision, soon afterwards, to appoint
Menon defence minister was not a fortunate one. Menon did some useful work
at the ministry, introducing the drive for self-reliance in defence production,
starting Sainik Schools and enhancing the welfare of the ranks. But his bossiness,
bullying and a proclivity to create cliques led to trouble. He dragged the
Officer Corps into the vortex of politics and himself got mired in the politicking
of the top brass. His classic clash with General K.S. Thimayya, a fine professional
with unparalleled popularity among the troops, followed. Its consequences
were catastrophic.
Unfortunately, Thimayya also behaved rather
amateurishly, handing in and withdrawing his resignation on the eve of Ayub
Khan's stopover in Delhi. When the storm raged in Parliament, Nehru found
it necessary to insist on civilian control of the military. Menon felt greatly
emboldened. Of course, he met his nemesis during the border war with China
that, according to him, was a socialist state and therefore would "never
commit aggression". Details of his ouster need not be recounted, except
to underscore that during the first 17 days of the month-long war, the country
seemed to devote greater energy to evicting Menon from South Block than to
repulsing the invaders. Nehru's resistance to his protege's dismissal was
of no avail.
Menon lasted as long as he did entirely because
of unstinted support by Nehru, who valued his ability and defended him against
his numerous critics. He also suffered his defence minister's frequent tantrums.
In the words of Nehru's official biographer, S. Gopal, this was nothing short
of "emotional blackmail". Menon's dependence on Nehru, Gopal adds,
was "matched only by his spite towards almost all others who were not
his acolytes".
Indira Gandhi was a shrewder judge of Menon.
His relations with her were therefore more complex. She skilfully used him
when it suited her and ignored him when necessary. She developed great sympathy
for him in 1967 when, despite her urging that Menon should contest from his
constituency of North Bombay, the Syndicate denied him a Congress ticket.
An emissary carried to her his desperate message that the best way to put
the Syndicate in its place would be to give him a suitable position in her
government. Indira pretended not to have heard the request.
The writer is a senior political commentator.
indermalhotra30@hotmail.com
