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Hindustan Times
3 days ago
- Politics
- Hindustan Times
A lost ledger of Delhi's history of diplomacy
On a December afternoon in 1955, Soong Ching-ling – known better as the 'Mother of Modern China' – stood beneath the high grand Victorian Edwardian-style arches of Chandni Chowk's Town Hall, bathed in the warmth of applause. The Town Hall's visitors' book with the signature of Queen Elizabeth. 'India, China. Two nations resurgent. Peking, New Delhi. The new Asia arising. Peace, Friendship. One Billion Pairs of hands. Your protectors! Hindi-Chini Bhai Bhai. Hindi-Chini Bhai,' she wrote in the Town Hall's visitors' book in Chinese, sealing the moment with the optimism of the short-lived Hindi-Chini friendship of the 1950s. Soong, an honorary president of the People's Republic of China and a revolutionary figure in her own right, had come to New Delhi in the dawn years of India's independence. Back then, Delhi's Town Hall was more than a civic building – it was the city's diplomatic salon. Under its colonnades, mayors welcomed presidents, poets, and heads of state. Civic receptions were staged with the gravity of statecraft: symbolic keys to the city exchanged hands, garlands draped over shoulders, abhinandan patra (formal letters of congratulations) read aloud as cameras clicked. For decades, those encounters seemed to live only in fading photographs, and in the faint memories of dignitaries and of the officials who were part of these meetings. Marshal Tito of Yugoslavia, in the centre, flanked by DMC president Ram Niwas Agarwal on right and Jawaharlal Nehru on left, in Delhi in November 1956. (Photo courtesy: Mahika Agarwal) Then, during a routine record room cleanup last year, a municipal heritage team stumbled upon a piece of history. A battered, leather-bound visitors' book. Its spine cracked, its pages foxed and crumbling, the ledger held in its hand-inked lines the ghost of an era — signatures, messages, and sketches from foreign dignitaries who passed through Delhi from the 1950s to the 1980s. 'It's a treasure,' said a senior official from the Indira Gandhi National Centre for the Arts (IGNCA), which is now restoring the book. 'Every page tells you what the world thought of India in those formative years, and how Delhi presented itself to that world.' The first pages record Soong Ching-ling's flourish in 1955, followed by a neat November 1956 note from Zhou Enlai, China's premier. He wished for the 'peaceful construction' and 'long friendship' of two nations, ending with 'Hindi Chini Bhai Bhai' in carefully brushed Chinese characters — hope inked just years before the 1962 border war would shatter it. Two lines down, a royal signature: Haile Selassie, the Ethiopian emperor whose reign bridged the colonial and post-colonial worlds. His 1956 visit was steeped in solidarity. Ethiopia still remembered India's support during Italy's brutal occupation two decades earlier. Selassie came to speak with then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru about African and Asian decolonisation, Delhi at that moment being the nerve centre of what is now known as the Global South. On India's foreign policy through the 1950s and '60s, the Indian Council for World Affairs (Sapru House) publication on '75 years of Indian foreign policy' writes: 'The colonial experience also helped India in that sense to develop an independent approach to international relations. And the significance that was attached, for example, to anti-racial campaigns, anticolonial campaigns, anti-apartheid, those struggles, and, of course, the complete focus on decolonisation..' These grand gestures often unfolded under the watch of Ram Niwas Agarwal, president of the Delhi Municipal Committee from 1954 until 1958, just before the creation of the unified Municipal Corporation of Delhi (MCD). His granddaughter, Mahika Agarwal, has preserved photographs in a family album she calls Bauji's Delhi: her grandfather alongside Nehru and Marshal Tito of Yugoslavia; her grandmother welcoming Soraya, the Empress of Iran, in February 1956; her grandfather greeting Queen Elizabeth. Also among these photographs are of Zhou signing the book, flanked by Nehru and a young Dalai Lama in 1956 – three years before the Tibetan leader fled to India and sought refuge. In the visitors' book, Tito's own words appear – a typewritten note from November 15, 1956, during the UNESCO General Conference held in Delhi: 'The days which we spend in New Delhi will remain as an unforgettable memory in our minds. The warm and cordial reception given to our delegation by the citizens of this beautiful and blooming city has left a deep and pleasant impression on us.' DMC president Ram Niwas Agarwal greets Soraya, the Empress of Iran, in Delhi in February 1956. (Photo courtesy: Mahika Agarwal) The 1956 UNESCO conference, which was the first to be held east of the Mediterranean, transformed Delhi into a diplomatic amphitheatre. For a month, global faces, ministers and intellectuals debated science, education, and culture even as the Suez Crisis and Hungarian Revolution shook the world. Tito's friendship with India would later be immortalised in the naming of Josip Broz Tito Marg in south Delhi. The ledger, which became a chronicler of that historic summit, reads like a roll call of mid-century history. There is Nehru's own signature in 1955, then President Rajendra Prasad's in the same year, Japanese PM Nobusuke Kishi in 1957, Harold Macmillan and his wife in 1958, New Zealand's PM Keith Holyoake, and Mohammad Zahir Shah, the last king of Afghanistan, in February 1958. In 1959, Edwina Mountbatten – the last Vicereine of India – signed her name during a visit from then Burma, a reminder of the colonial past still within living memory. The Town Hall's embrace was not limited to politics. On November 21, 1957, Marian Anderson – the celebrated African American contralto whose voice became a weapon against segregation – is found mentioned as well. Anderson was a poignant figure in American civil rights movement. Two decades earlier, barred from performing before an integrated audience in Washington, Anderson had sung instead on the steps of the Lincoln Memorial in a concert arranged by Eleanor Roosevelt. By 1957, she was a goodwill ambassador for the US State Department, touring Asia. In Delhi, under the gaze of Gandhi's statue behind Town Hall, she performed 'Lead Kindly Light' – the first Westerner to sing at his memorial. Archival footage shows Delhiites in woollen shawls, rapt and still as her voice rose into the winter air. Some entries, meanwhile, are more surprising, especially in hindsight. In 1974, a young Saddam Hussein – the then deputy leader of Iraq's Revolutionary Command Council – filled half a page in Arabic, praising 'shared experiences and historic relationships' between the two nations. At that moment, he was a rising regional figure; decades later, his name would be synonymous with war and dictatorship. By the late 1970s, the tone of the book changes. Many entries are signed not by presidents and premiers but by committee members, bureaucrats, and cultural delegations. Pages are missing, torn, or water-damaged. Officials suspect the gaps conceal other major visits – or perhaps that they were lost during Delhi's political upheavals in the 1980s and '90s, when the municipal corporation itself was suspended for years. Today, about 140 pages have been painstakingly restored. Conservators humidify the brittle paper, flatten creases, and reinforce torn corners with Japanese tissue. The fragile handwriting – from elegant calligraphy to hurried scrawls to foreign scripts – is being digitised, each name cross-referenced with municipal archives, newspaper clippings, and family collections. Photographs and, where possible, film footage are being sourced to accompany the book in a planned municipal museum gallery. Saroj Kumar Pandey, a conservator working on the conservation project, said that such brittle papers with handwritten notes using ink require extra care. 'Paper has not strengthened and torn pages are are filled in with Japanese rice paper. We use gluten-free starch as an adhesive. Each paper is tested through bleeding test and ink signatures are stabilised using chemicals after removing stains.' Since then, the visitors book has been sent back to the MCD. 'This was a time when the city, through its mayor, was part of international diplomacy,' said a municipal heritage official. 'Receptions were held not just in Town Hall, but at Ram Lila grounds, even at the Red Fort. These events were grand, with schoolchildren, music, and pageantry – they were meant to tell the world what Delhi stood for.' In Chandni Chowk, Town Hall stands restored on the outside, its mustard-yellow façade bright against the jostle of traders and rickshaws. Inside, the council chambers are silent. But in the ledger's pages, Delhi's voice is vivid – hopeful, confident, eager to be seen. The rediscovered visitors' book is more than civic memorabilia. It is an atlas of mid-century diplomacy mapped onto one city's address book. And in that sense, the book is not only a record of who came to Delhi, but of how Delhi imagined itself – as a Capital not just of India, but the epicentre of the post-colonial world.
New Indian Express
18-07-2025
- Politics
- New Indian Express
Cue music for a Himalayan pas de deux
India-China relations started with hope in the 1950s with the Panchsheel Agreement, stuttered later in that decade and deteriorated sharply in the wake of the 1962 war. Since then, it has fluctuated, with a sharp downturn over the last decade. Of late, it is again showing signs of revival. The early 1950s are often referred to as the age of Nehru, during which he, along with a few other leaders, helped unite the Global South into a bloc of non-aligned nations as a counterbalance to the US and the USSR. While Nehru emerged as a prominent figure, his Chinese counterpart Zhou Enlai was less visible internationally. Nevertheless, the two leaders forged a strong relationship. Zhou's visit to India in 1954 generated considerable excitement, and later that year, Nehru visited China. The New York Times described the atmosphere during Nehru's visit, saying people crowded the six-mile route from the Beijing airport to the city, joyfully chanting the Chinese slogan that translates as 'Long live peace' and the Hindi phrase 'Hindi-Chini bhai-bhai'. Nehru and Mao Zedong's meeting lasted four-and-a-half-hours, during which Mao candidly acknowledged that China was less developed than India, a fact only revealed in the minutes of the meeting released in 2015. The relationship began showing signs of strain after the 1955 Bandung Conference of Afro-Asian nations, co-hosted by Nehru and Indonesia's Sukarno. Zhou played a significant role at the conference, garnering support from many leaders. It was during this period that Pakistan and China began strengthening their ties. Tensions escalated with the Lhasa uprising in March 1959, fueled by rumours that the Chinese authorities intended to arrest the 14th Dalai Lama. Despite India's clear support for Chinese rule over Tibet, uncertainty grew within the Chinese leadership over India's intentions. Chris Ogden, in his 2022 paper, 'The Double-Edged Sword: Reviewing India-China Relations', observes, 'Although India had recognised Chinese suzerainty over Tibet and classified it as an autonomous region, the Indian government's decision to harbour the Dalai Lama after his escape in 1959 heightened distrust and frustration in their diplomatic relations.' Additionally, Chinese support for the Mizo and Naga uprisings in the Northeast exacerbated India's concerns.
Hindustan Times
11-05-2025
- Politics
- Hindustan Times
Trenches in Delhi: Childhood memories of 1962 China War
As a child during the 1962 India-China war, I remember watching workers dig up the roundabout near our Lutyens' bungalow—transforming it into a trench, a makeshift shelter in case of a Chinese air attack. Since I was very young, the trenches were curiosities—places to play and hide, unaware of the real threat looming overhead. The gravity of the situation didn't quite strike me then, but it was clear that New Delhi was not considered beyond the Chinese depredations. But even in the face of a threat of this magnitude, I noticed a marked change in the demeanour, behaviour, and reactions of my parents, family, and their circle of friends and acquaintances. The threat did not frighten them. Instead, I sensed a steely resolve, a new determination, a stoic yet courageous intent to take the Chinese head-on. There was no thought of capitulation, of defeat, or of the consequences that would inevitably follow. On the contrary, there was faith that India—a young nation and an ancient civilization—would not only survive but ultimately emerge victorious. Also Read: Visible weapons, invisible enemy: A new era of war One other thing struck my impressionable mind with indelible clarity: against an external enemy, all Indians would unite. The questions could be asked later: Could we have been more militarily prepared? Who were those who bungled? Did we trust the Chinese too much? Were we so taken in by the slogan 'Hindi-Chini Bhai Bhai' that we failed to foresee the treachery the enemy would resort to? Yes, these questions would be debated—after all, we were a democracy. But at the time of crisis, all such divisive issues went into abeyance. The nation united like a rock, like a hand whose fingers lock into an iron grip. When the country's future was at stake, all our internal divisions—of caste, creed, region, language, or politics—became secondary. The nation had to come first. To some, it may seem that I am simulating this patriotism. The truth is, I am not. The threat of an external enemy during a time of war had transformed the argumentative Indian into a united Rashtra Bhakt. One proof of this was the outpouring of donations for the war effort. India was then a poor country. Our resources were limited, and the treasury lacked the means to sustain an expensive war. Even our armed forces were poorly equipped. We had nowhere to turn for aid. There was not enough to provide succour to those rendered homeless by the invading forces. Food and essential supplies were in short supply. Also Read: In 4 days, India's 'Operation Sindoor' caused massive damage in Pakistan What I saw as a child was the readiness of every Indian—rich or poor—to give whatever they could afford for the war effort. I saw my parents coordinating with others to collect clothes, footwear, food, and money for donation. Even our staff members—though their means were naturally limited—participated enthusiastically in the process. People gave willingly and from the heart. It is often said that Indians are particularly partial to gold. Every Indian home—and especially every Indian woman—values the gold in the house. It is her stree dhan, the wealth that by tradition and right belongs to women. And yet, it was women who stood at the forefront, donating that very gold. I also remember an organic 'cottage industry' springing up in homes, where women would knit socks and sweaters for our armed forces. Voluntary organisations came up to collect these lovingly made items and send them in an organised manner to designated government collection centres. Also Read: 'Big relief, kind of festivity': How people in border areas reacted to India-Pakistan ceasefire The simple point I remain convinced about is this: when faced with an external enemy in a time of war, Indians come together in a way few would expect. A strange alchemy takes place, and the cacophony of a fractious democracy gives way to an invincible, united front. We are witnessing that same spirit again today, as we confront Pakistan for its heinous and relentless support of terrorism against India. The country is united as never before. People from all walks of life—and all political parties—stand firmly with the government and our valiant armed forces in the battle against the terrorist state across our border. Also Read: In 4 days, India's 'Operation Sindoor' caused massive damage in Pakistan Our position today is far stronger than it was in 1962, when China stabbed us in the back. India's prowess—military, economic, diplomatic, and as the world's largest democracy—should not be underestimated. Above all, the unity and patriotism of 1.4 billion Indians must never be underestimated. To our enemies we can say with Ghalib: Mat pooch ki kya haal hai mera tere peechhe (Don't ask how I am when faced by you); Tu dekh ki kya rang hai tera mere aage (You see how you are when you face me).
