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| Delhi Diary by Vinod Mehta |
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Am I the only one dismayed by the fawning, servile, wall-to-wall media coverage of the Hillary Clinton visit? Ever since she set foot in Mumbai, she has received lavish, sycophantic and non-probing attention from our otherwise rude and sceptical TV channels and newspapers. From what she had for breakfast, to what shoes she wore, to what she liked to drink, to her favourite flowers, to her preference in brass handicrafts, to her ‘power dressing’—there was no end to the investigative curiosity of our hacks determined to ferret out every bit of trivia. The substantive agenda Secretary Clinton came to push—climate change, go easy on Pakistan, NPT, WTO—almost got lost in the hoopla celebrating her arrival. We’ve had other secretaries of state—Colin Powell, Madeleine Albright, Condoleezza Rice—visit the country, but the coverage was sober, measured and in proportion to the political stature of the dignitary. The notice paid to Mrs Clinton would seem as if she, not Barack Obama, is the President of the United States.
I am not unmindful of who she is. She is Bill Clinton’s wife, she nearly won the race to the White House, she has numerous Indian friends in her native place, she is a self-confessed India-lover, she is absolutely crazy about tandoori raan at the Bukhara, she is one of the world’s most powerful women (so is Indra Nooyi of Pepsi!). However, that still does not qualify her for hogging prime-time viewing and reading space.
Oh, I nearly forgot. She is also a celebrity. Not in the Carla Bruni or the Angelina Jolie sense but in the Priyanka Gandhi sense. This kind of celebrity attracts at once Page 3 devotees and Edit page snobs. Therefore, she is a potent mix of the serious and the showbiz. But, and I may be in a minority here, that is insufficient justification as to why our English media literally rolled over for her.
Our robust republic has ambitions of emerging as a global player, a 21st century superpower. Sadly, we still carry past colonial baggage. The colonial mindset manifests when someone white, possessing both soft and hard power, condescends to flatter and patronise us. We go gaga. John Company may have departed; unfortunately, its place has been taken over by Uncle Sam. Let’s admit it. The Americans are our new rulers, we are in awe of them—even though they frequently kick our butts.
Rants and Raves
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Questions, questions and more questions. The Gilani-Manmohan summit at Sharm el-Sheikh should be an occasion for bursting crackers, not lodging serial complaints. After all, the logjam has been broken, the composite dialogue is to be restarted, even though the text of the joint statement may not be entirely to our liking. But sellout, surrender, capitulation are hardly the appropriate words. Indo-Pak joint statements are not worth the paper they are written on. We had one in Lahore in 2004 and one in Havana in 2006. Both were consistently violated by our tricky neighbour. We got nothing. This time, just a week after the signing, the Pakistanis have begun the trial of many of the 26/11 accused, they have acknowledged that Kasab and his gang are Pak nationals, and, most crucial, Kasab has come clean with an astonishing confession rich in detail about who, when, where. How did all this happen? Is it a coincidence? Or was the cooperation part of the deal: You delink terror and dialogue, and we will deliver the goods. Whatever, it is a win-win situation for both countries.
By the way, some bureaucrats in South Block are convinced that the joint statement has to be a Pakistani draft since it is so poorly worded!
Rants and Raves
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"I’ve had enough curries for a lifetime," declared the legendary investigative journalist, Seymour Hersh, as he invited me to an Italian lunch two weeks ago. He had just returned from Islamabad with more bad news: the country was totally out of control. We talked about his many Pulitzer prize-winning books, particularly The Price of Power, in which he alleged that Morarji Desai was a CIA mole in the Indira Gandhi cabinet. When I told him I had to resign from a daily I had launched in Mumbai in the ’90s because I contested his allegation, he commiserated. He was taken to court in Chicago by NRIs incensed at the Morarji charge, forced Henry Kissinger to testify and won the libel case.
He was reluctant to talk further about Morarji. He did not want to "open a closed chapter", but strictly in confidence he told me the full story, including the fact that in the ’60s CIA "owned" half of Delhi. He has sworn me to secrecy about the rest of our conversation, permitting me to use the information in my memoirs.
Rants and Raves
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Here is a charming tidbit from the scorecard of a match in the English county championship: Mustard caught Pickles bowled Onions, 13. Only the Brits (and the Parsis) can produce such delicious names!
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