Behind the scenes of leaders’ foreign visits
Ambassadors during VVIP visits have a tough job. From ensuring smooth departures to finding hard-to-find gifts, there is nothing they do not deliver
These days, India-China relations are dominating headlines. But behind the headlines that emerge from every international summit, there are days of intense planning and preparation, and inevitably, some interesting and humorous anecdotes destined to remain unknown. I was involved with two path-breaking visits to China, one by Prime Minister (PM) Rajiv Gandhi in 1988, and the other by President R Venkatraman in 1992.
Rajiv Gandhi’s visit to China in 1988 was the first after Jawaharlal Nehru’s in 1954. I went to China as part of the team tasked with preparing for it, and then again as part of his delegation.
At the time of PM’s departure from the Technical Area in Delhi, I found that one suitcase had been conspicuously kept aside and not loaded. According to security instructions all checked-in baggage had to be deposited unlocked for screening.
The locked suitcase belonged to foreign minister PV Narasimha Rao. The director, Special Protection Group in charge of PM’s security, a fine officer, politely but firmly informed Rao’s aide that on the PM’s plane there is only one VVIP. Either the key should be procured quickly or the baggage would not go.
I also recall that as we were boarding, a senior Cabinet minister, who had come to see off the PM, kept calling out to Mani Shankar Aiyar, who was walking towards the plane. I was walking with Mani, but he instructed me, “Keep walking. Don’t look back.”
At that time, Mani was part of the powerful inner coterie of Rajiv Gandhi. His power was far beyond that of his actual rank, and he could afford to ignore a Cabinet minister.
Narasimha Rao’s baggage was finally loaded because the key came in the nick of time. A few years later, Rao as PM became the only VVIP on his own plane. Such is the wheel of time.
Rajiv Gandhi took a media team of over 60 top journalists for the visit, many of whom had egos larger than life. On the visit to the Great Wall of China, three prominent journos wandered off on their own.
By the time they returned, the PM’s convoy had moved. In a VVIP visit, getting separated from the convoy is a nightmare. The unnamed trio, used to throwing their weight around, managed to reach the hotel hungry and weary only late at night!
President Venkataraman was the first head of State from India to visit China in 1992. I was his press secretary. Venkataraman was meticulous, highly intelligent, and a master of his brief, but his valet messed up big time. He forgot to pack the black sherwani he wanted to wear at the main banquet given by his counterpart. This was a crisis, and Venkataraman was in a foul mood.
Next to his suite, foreign secretary JN Dixit, our ambassador Salman Haider, and I were discussing what to do. Just then, H Viswanathan, counsellor in the embassy, walked in. He was wearing a black sherwani and was about the same height and built as the President.
Salman Haider kept looking at him, and then peremptorily said, “Take off your sherwani.” A shocked Viswanathan complied. Haider then took the sherwani to the President. It fitted him as if it was his own! Venkataraman beamed. The crisis was over.
Another ‘crisis’ took place after the President’s visit to Xian. I bought there a small clay replica of a statue that is part of the life-sized, hand-moulded Terracotta Army buried with China’s first emperor, Qin Shi Huang.
On returning to the hotel, the First Lady, Mrs Venkataraman, asked to see my souvenir, to which I naturally agreed. However, I was unprepared for what happened next. Salman Haider stormed into my room and asked me angrily why I created problems for him. Seeing my blank face, he expostulated, “Now Mrs Venkataraman wants me to procure the same statue for her too. Where, in God’s name, do I get it?” I immediately offered that she could take mine, “Of course, I said that,” he said exasperatedly, “but she refused.” “She wants another one exactly like yours!”
Ambassadors, during VVIP visits, have a tough job and I don’t know how he resolved this one. But, such ‘glitches’ apart, the visit was a great success.
Pavan K Varma is an author, diplomat, and former member of Parliament (Rajya Sabha). The views expressed are personal
