The Prime Minister's Basement
Nine o'clock in the morning. New Delhi. The Prime Minister's basement conference room.
None of the senior officials present had expected the Prime Minister to choose this venue. Kahan was a politician who understood power and was full of tricks; he always had unexpected ways of making an impression. To General Pasad, the choice was transparent: it was meant to remind every official in the room that the country was now on a war footing, and that he, Kahan, was its wartime leader.
After all cabinet members and the military chiefs had taken their seats, Prime Minister Kahan walked to the podium. He was thin, with a greying beard, and looked scholarly and benign. This was an illusion. Syed Haider Kahan1 had pursued the most hardline political course of any Indian prime minister in memory. In his first year he had twice visited the military base at Srinagar, publicly calling it India's bridgehead against China. He then expanded the air and naval facilities on the Andaman Islands,2 all but strangling the approaches to the Bay of Bengal. At the same time, exploiting America's preoccupation with terrorist organisations in western Pakistan, Kahan used counter-terrorism as a pretext to crush pro-Pakistani Muslim factions domestically, encouraging Hindu mobs to burn mosques and empowering radical Hindu organisations. The RSS and the VHP3 became quasi-militias beyond the reach of the law. Oppression bred retaliation. Two weeks ago, nearly a hundred gunmen armed with rifles and explosives had set out from the Pakistani coast, infiltrated Mumbai, and opened fire indiscriminately. The death toll exceeded a thousand. India was swept by fury. The Lok Sabha passed the latest counter-terrorism act by an overwhelming majority, granting the Prime Minister near-absolute emergency powers.
Now, three days after obtaining those powers, Kahan had decided to escalate the conflict to a war between nations. The war resolution was still being debated in Parliament, but he was confident of the outcome.
"Gentlemen, this is the first special security session convened by the Council of Ministers. It is not public. It is not limited to administrative department heads; senior military and intelligence officials are also present." The Prime Minister spoke slowly.
Pasad had already noticed several senior uniformed officers in attendance. He was not the only military man in the room.
"Honourable colleagues, two weeks have passed since the inhuman massacre. We have shown the utmost restraint, waiting for justice. And what has our patience earned us? I can tell you. The UN mediator landed in Pakistan a few hours ago." Kahan paused. The ministers below showed no great surprise; the UN's itinerary was public. The Prime Minister himself had vetoed the envoy's plan to visit India first.
"Since the United Nations evidently considers it more important to listen to the perpetrator's lies, our government cannot accept the neutrality of this mediation…" Kahan rapped the table with a bony fist.
"…Since the international community has been deceived, India will unilaterally take all effective action to defend our justice. The blood of the Indian people will not have been shed in vain. Of course, recklessness and impulse are our greatest enemies. The foundation of our action is not our anger but our intelligence services, both political and otherwise." As he said this, Kahan glanced toward his intelligence chief.
Director Chaman4 sat in the shadows in a corner, returning the Prime Minister's look with a smile, gratified that his department had been mentioned at the top of the speech. An open notebook lay before him, completely blank. Chaman habitually used his memory, not pen and paper, to record everything; the notebook, like his plain-glass spectacles, was for show, to make himself look more like an administrative bureaucrat. His directorate had long been subordinate to the Home Ministry, but since Kahan's arrival the humiliation had ended. The Prime Minister wanted intelligence reporting directly to him, and the Intelligence Bureau's real standing now exceeded the Home Ministry's. Chaman himself had become the person Kahan trusted most after Defence Minister Singh.
Kahan continued, meandering between diplomacy and counter-terrorism. Most of those present could guess where he was heading: war. What they did not know was how large the war would be.
Pasad noticed that in today's lengthy address, the Prime Minister had used the phrase "a permanent solution" repeatedly. Sitting below, the Chief of Army Staff felt every one of his dark premonitions being confirmed.
"…Since the collapse of al-Qaeda, Pakistan's value to the United States has been diminishing. No, I believe it is in fact disappearing. The Americans know, of course, that the man was hiding sixty kilometres north of Islamabad, arranged by Pakistan's ISI, because they are one and the same. India will become America's most steadfast ideological ally. The Americans have simply not yet fully realised it. So our actions may cause some diplomatic friction in the short term, but in the end we will make our friends understand our intentions. Our purpose is the same as theirs: a permanent solution to the largest breeding ground of terrorism in South Asia, and in the world." Kahan finished the passage and paused. Unlike his speeches in Parliament, there was no cheering or applause. Only Defence Minister Singh nodded ostentatiously. Most of the others exchanged anxious whispers.
"Therefore, anyone who fears international intervention has lost sight of a simple truth: that India is the greatest cornerstone of the democratic world. Our Foreign Ministry must relentlessly remind the West that the Islamic world's only nuclear arsenal is in Pakistan, and that before long Pakistan will secretly sell nuclear weapons to Iran or to terrorist organisations. That is the most immediate threat to civilised society. If India can permanently remove this danger for the whole world, I believe that, in the long run, the Western world will understand our predicament…"
Pasad turned his head slightly to glance at Foreign Secretary Chandra, who was mopping his brow incessantly, his face white as paper. The Prime Minister's off-the-cuff war mobilisation had evidently terrified him.
"…Gentlemen, you should know that any great power has the right to act according to its own will, just as America did in Afghanistan or Iraq. There is nothing to be embarrassed about in acknowledging that India is now such a power. Remember my words: make a habit of listening to the people, hearing what they think, and you will feel no fear."
Kahan's war manifesto had no effect on Pasad. In the Chief of Army Staff's view, "what the people think" was nothing more than the inevitable product of the BJP's frenzied populist agitation since taking office.
"Now, let us discuss. What are your views on our next steps?" The Prime Minister's address was finally over. He surveyed the room, gauging the reaction. The murmuring below intensified.
1. Syed Haider Kahan (塞德海德卡汗): The fictional Prime Minister's full name. The name's structure suggests a Muslim background, which is incongruous with his portrayal as a Hindu-nationalist BJP leader who empowers the RSS and persecutes Muslims. This appears to be an authorial oversight; the character is functionally a Hindu nationalist despite his name. See C8N8. ↩
2. Andaman Islands (安达曼群岛): The Andaman and Nicobar Islands, an Indian Union Territory in the Bay of Bengal. India has significantly expanded military infrastructure there, including the tri-service Andaman and Nicobar Command. The islands' position near the Strait of Malacca gives India potential leverage over maritime traffic into Southeast and East Asia. ↩
3. RSS and VHP (国民志愿服务团 / 印度教大同会): The Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh (National Volunteer Organisation) and the Vishva Hindu Parishad (World Hindu Council), two prominent Hindu-nationalist organisations closely affiliated with the BJP. The novel's characterisation of them as "quasi-militias beyond the reach of the law" reflects a common critique of their role in communal violence. ↩
4. Director Chaman (查曼局长): The fictional head of India's Intelligence Bureau (IB), the country's domestic intelligence agency. His direct-reporting relationship to the Prime Minister, bypassing the Home Ministry, mirrors real-world debates about the IB's institutional independence. His characterisation as a man who records nothing on paper and uses props to appear bureaucratic is the novel's most economical sketch of an intelligence professional. ↩