Negotiating Peace

Ex-diplomat Satinder Lambah’s lessons for Modi’s Pakistan policy

Muslim protesters in Rawalpindi, Pakistan, shout anti-Indian slogans after setting a Hindu temple on fire and demolishing a part of the stonework, on 7 December 1992. At least 11 temples were attacked across Pakistan in response to the destruction of the Babri Masjid, in Ayodhya, India, by Hindu extremists. SAEED KHAN / AFP / Getty Images
30 April, 2023

SATINDER KUMAR LAMBAH, the Indian high commissioner to Pakistan, faced “one of the most difficult days” of his career when the Babri Masjid at Ayodhya was destroyed by workers of Hindutva organisations in December 1992. The storied diplomat, much loved and respected in Pakistan, would have become persona non grata had it not been for Nawaz Sharif, Pakistan’s prime minister, and a close friend of Lambah’s. However, what stands out today is Lambah’s response to the criticism in Pakistan of India’s treatment of Muslims after the demolition.

Lambah had several conversations with journalists and other important Pakistanis, highlighting the “outstanding contribution” of minorities in India, according to his memoir, In Pursuit of Peace: India-Pakistan Relations Under Six Prime Ministers. In one interaction, which included former senior Pakistani military personnel, Lambah emphasised that during the 1971 Bangladesh war, Sam Manekshaw, a Parsi, was the Indian Army’s chief; Jagjit Singh Aurora, a Sikh, was leading the force’s eastern command; and JFR Jacob, a Jew, was the command’s chief of staff. “This, I added, was not by design but the result of the normal functioning of the Indian Army, a matter of pride for every Indian,” Lambah writes.

Even at the political level, the foreign minister was a Sikh (Sardar Swaran Singh), the defence minister was a leader of the Harijan community (Jagjivan Ram) and the overall leadership was under a woman (Indira Gandhi). This appealed to thinking Pakistanis. One commented that while they were aware that Muslims had occupied top posts in the country, they were nonetheless impressed that a Muslim held the sensitive position as chief of air staff earlier from 1979–81. I responded this was a normal occurrence which did not surprise us, as it did our friends in Pakistan.

While his book was published this year, Lambah passed away last June, after witnessing eight years of Narendra Modi’s rule. “Unfortunately,” he writes, “the situation in India too is undergoing a change. For instance, as Indian journalist Aakar Patel points out, India does not have a Muslim chief minister in any of its twenty-eight states, in fifteen there is no Muslim minister and in ten just one, usually in charge of minority affairs. Patel called this a deliberate exclusion of 200 million people.”

Lambah writes he had “no knowledge” of another “astonishing charge” Patel made—that Muslims were excluded from the Research and Analysis Wing as well. Later, retired intelligence officers told him that even other minorities, such as Sikhs, had limited representation in the RAW. “I, however, remember with great satisfaction dealing with A.S. Siyali, an able Sikh head of R&AW, during the Narasimha Rao regime, and Asif Ibrahim, the Muslim director of the intelligence bureau during the United Progressive Alliance,” Lambah writes. He also notes the recent “unfortunate statements” by union ministers, which link “India’s policy towards Pakistan with domestic developments and references to Muslims in India.”

Lambah’s memoir provides crucial anecdotes—some exclusive, some oft-forgotten—about India’s talks with Pakistan on Kashmir till 2014. Juxtaposing these incidents with foreign policy today makes one thing clear: preceding prime ministers followed certain effective methods while engaging with Pakistan, even in the face of hostility, which Modi appears to be outrightly dismissing.