Dragon Fire

Prime Minister’s Office, South Block, Delhi, India

‘We are facing a scenario which only our doomsday soothsayers would have forecast,’ said Hari Dixit. ‘A military strongman has taken power in Pakistan on an Islamic Kashmir ticket and China is pouring troops towards our border in a way that is reminiscent of our humiliating war in 1962.’

The Indian press had not yet had time to advise on how Hari Dixit should handle Hamid Khan, but they had had a field day with China’s attack on the Tibetan government-in-exile and Major Choedrak’s mission into Lhasa. The daring and bravery of the men involved was heralded as if it was a new era of Indian nationalism, and it was conveniently forgotten that the commandos and aircrew were, to a man, Tibetan. The capture of Dehra Dun airbase and the theft of the Antonov-32, the faked flight-plan for the Mi-26, the refuelling in Sikkim and the sheer ingenuity of the break-out at Drapchi had fired the public’s imagination. As yet, very little was known about what had happened in Lhasa itself. But reports from Dharamsala implied that Togden was still at large somewhere in Tibet, protected by men from the Special Frontier Force.

The Times of India, regarded as the voice of the establishment, suggested that Prime Minister Dixit should distance himself from the whole affair. ‘It beggars belief, during a decade when relations with China have been so difficult, that the government maintained a fighting force of ten thousand Tibetans, stationed them close to the Chinese border and gave them an environment in which to carry out the sort of operation we have just seen.’

The reaction of other newspapers was not so restrained. The Hindu agreed with Dixit’s decision to disband the SFF, but argued that the ‘Drapchi incident and the unforgivable violent response in Dharamsala by the Chinese should be used to pull the festering border problem of Tibet to the forefront of Sino-Indian relations. Until this problem is solved, very little can move forward between the two great Asian superpowers… and, on the issue of sanctuary, India would be morally obliged to offer Lama Togden a safe home should he survive his present flight from Chinese-controlled territory.’

The Pioneer was among the more jingoistic newspapers. It ran pictures of Major Choedrak and his senior officers with potted stories of their lives, together with intricate military details about the two aircraft stolen for the mission. Togden himself received a double-page spread and was hailed as a ‘new global voice’ for the Tibetan cause. The paper’s columnists called on the Indian air force to give air cover for Togden’s escape and for those SFF troops still in India to go in and give him safe passage. ‘China has stolen territory from India,’ raged the editorial. ‘It represses the people of Tibet. It is an ally of Pakistan which has caused immeasurable suffering to the Indian people, and, most importantly, China is not a member of the club of democratic governments. In brief, China is the world’s “Enemy Number One”.’

‘Foreign Minister, what are your thoughts?’ asked Dixit once he had convened the meeting.

Prabhu Purie took a few seconds to answer. ‘My instincts are to follow the moderate line set down in The Times of India, although it would not be a popular one in the present climate.’

‘True, there is a groundswell for us to play tough. It is a case where the line between mob rule and democracy blurs.’

‘We do have a chance now to create a formula agreeable to both sides,’ said Purie. ‘Something to be implemented when the Dalai Lama dies.’

‘The Hindu is wrong,’ growled Chandra Reddy, ‘and now is not the right climate in which to start.’

‘What they are saying,’ pressed Purie, ‘is that if we want a normal relationship with China, which would include secure borders, trade, equal punching weight on the global stage, we have to sort out Tibet. We could begin by guaranteeing cooperation on sealing the border and checking on infiltration, rather like the Irish government agreed with Britain over Northern Ireland.’

‘Then every time someone slips through, we are blamed for conspiring,’ said the Chief of Army Staff, Unni Khrishnan. ‘With all due respect, we would be creating a diplomatic nightmare.’

‘And what about Togden?’ said Dixit.

‘If they haven’t caught him by now, I suspect the SFF will get him out,’ said Reddy.

‘I suggest we hand him over to a third government,’ said Purie.

‘Isn’t that playing it too safe?’ said Dixit. He picked up the Pioneer, glanced at its populist front page, tossed it back on the table, then paced back and forth at the end of the room. ‘The Chinese are going to bleed this for everything they can. If we give an inch now, before they even begin to cut us up, we will be left with nothing. It was a cock-up, not a conspiracy, but you can be sure they will treat it as the latter.

‘There is also a wider element, of values, democracy and where India is heading as a society and as a country. Correct me if I am wrong, but Lundrup Togden is an innocent man. He is a monk. A man of God. He should not have been in prison. The Chinese run a repressive regime in Tibet which is condemned by the democratic world. Therefore, should he choose to seek sanctuary in India, we have no choice but to give it to him and damn the consequences.’

‘Even without him,’ said Reddy quietly, ‘I think the consequences have already begun.’ He withdrew a number of folders from his briefcase, each marked in black felt pen. ‘These are satellite pictures from overnight, some courtesy of the Americans, some courtesy of Indian technology,’ he explained. ‘They show irregular movements of men and equipment towards our border.’

The members of the National Security Council were on their feet, leaning over the photographs spread out on the table. ‘This is in the west. The circled area is a leftover from the 1962 war on the Thag La Ridge where invasion began. The land is claimed by us, but is under Chinese control and is technically a demilitarized zone.’ He brought out three more pictures. ‘This is a closer image of the town of Qizl Jilga, and this, gentlemen, is a fleet of helicopters flying in at around 0300 hours this morning.’

Reddy pointed to another. ‘The town of Zanda is only two hundred kilometres from Dehra Dun. This is unmistakably a column of armour. These look like 155mm artillery guns, but I am getting confirmation. This photograph is of an army barracks just outside the town of Garyarsa from where a mountain road leads directly to Namgia just across the border.’

He turned to another envelope. ‘This file is even more interesting. The formations you see here are infantry. The image next to them is of a troop transport plane. The town is Mazar, in Chinese territory, but worryingly close to Pakistani-controlled Kashmir and only four hundred kilometres from Srinagar. This is not the terrain for tanks, but here and here you will see armoured build-ups, north of the Sikkim border, along the Indus Valley at Demchok and at Chusul in Ladakh.’

‘One would have thought they were preparing for this,’ said Dixit.

‘So far,’ said Reddy, ‘it seems they are using their reserve supply of border forces. We have no evidence that any reinforcements are being brought in from outside the area.’ He opened the last file on the table. ‘Now we move more than six hundred and fifty kilometres to our eastern flank. These are similar sort of activities, here around the town of Lhunze and here near Nyingchi.’

Reddy unfolded a larger map of the area, showing the locations of the two Chinese towns. ‘They are here and here. This is the border with Arunachal Pradesh and it’s only about two hundred and forty kilometres across until you get to Burma, a staunch ally of China’s and no friend of ours. China claims Arunachal Pradesh as its own sovereign territory. Only six months ago the New China News Agency said it had a “sacred mission” to reclaim it, as it has with Taiwan. We only officially created the state in 1986 and during 1986 and 1987, after a stand-off with the Chinese we moved our forces closer to the border.’

‘If I might add,’ said Purie, so softly that he was barely audible, ‘we have an enormously strong advantage over Pakistan. With China, I am not so sure.’

‘Go on,’ said the Prime Minister.

‘If we make it clear immediately that we have every intention of going to war with Pakistan if necessary, we will have complete international backing. True, we are a democracy, and they are now a military dictatorship. But the reality is more than that. In diplomatic circles it is known as the Tiananmen effect, drawn from the Chinese killings of democracy protesters in China in 1989. No major power will risk its overall relationship with India because of Kashmir. We are simply too big. That is not, however, the case with Pakistan, particularly since Khan himself has indicated the pariah characteristics of his own government. If it comes to the brink, Pakistan will be left to swing in the wind.’

‘But China?’ said Dixit.

‘While we threaten to demolish Pakistan, Prime Minister, you get on a plane to make a visit of peace to China.’