Overwhelmed by a guest

George W. Bush's recent visit to India is a clear instance of hospitality being accepted and then turned inside out.

A man of modest means once visited the land of a mighty king. The king was gracious and treated him well, giving him a fine house to stay in, fine food to eat and introducing him to all the king's great courtiers. The man was naturally overwhelmed, and before leaving, ventured to invite the king to visit and stay with him. The king graciously accepted the invitation. In the fullness of time his visit was fixed and the man, anxious to be as hospitable as possible, went to great lengths to ensure that his distinguished guest would be as comfortable as he could be. So the best rooms were readied and the best sheets and pillows brought out; the best cooks were brought in to make the finest food the man could afford for the great king.

However, a few days before the king arrived, a large troop of men from the king's land came to the man's house. They looked at the arrangements the man had made and declared that they were not fit for the king. However, they said with some kindness, the arrangements were not a problem. They would provide all that was necessary themselves. So all the food the man so carefully arranged was thrown out and food from the king's own land was brought in along with water.

The guards, specially selected to protect and serve the royal guest, were ordered to go and stand outside the house while the king's men took over the rooms. The king stayed in and stationed his own steely-eyed guards at the doors.

That, however, was not enough, it seemed, because the king's men soon demanded that the grand house for the king to stay in be taken over by them. All the people designated to work for the comfort and well-being of the king were replaced by men from the king's land, leaving the man dumbfounded. The cars he had provided at great expense were removed and the king's men brought in the king's cars, insisting that nothing else would do. The king always travelled in his own car.

The man, bewildered by all the changes, went about welcoming the king when he arrived in great splendour. He then found that the only people allowed to come near the king were those whom the king's men approved, apart, from the king's own men and women. The man's friends and fellow citizens were kept far away by his own guards, who meekly followed the peremptory instructions given by the king's men. When the king drove to meet his host, the man's fellow citizens found themselves blocked from using roads to go to their places of work, their children found they could not go to their schools and the ailing had to wait for the king to pass before they could go to hospitals.

The king stayed for only two days, and when he left, the king's men found to their surprise that the host's friends and fellow citizens were delighted that the king had gone, and were even more delighted to see the king's men and women leave. The host's friends rejoiced at the departure and prayed the king would not think of coming to their country ever again. The man of modest means had been left some gifts by the king, to be sure; these were to be shared with his fellow citizens, and the biggest gift was a huge greeting card from the king that wished everyone well. The man wondered how he would share that particular gift.

All right, no prizes for guessing whom the king and the man of modest means represent, and the slight exaggerations need to be overlooked, as this is, after all, a fairytale. But it is not untrue in essentials. The recent visit of President George W. Bush was a clear example of hospitality being turned inside out.

There are, as any sensible person will agree, some basic conventions that everyone follows when accepting hospitality. One accepts an invitation to come to someone's house, and expectations may extend to a room for the night, and such food as the host offers. One does not arrive carrying one's own water and food and proceed to throw the host's helpers out, replacing them with one's own.

The importance of what President Bush and Prime Minister Manmohan Singh discussed and agreed on is not really the point here. Those agreements could, in theory, have been concluded anywhere in the world, given the nature of present day diplomacy. "It is usual," the playwright Jean Giraudoux wrote once, "for the two leaders of the peoples concerned to meet privately at some innocent village, on a terrace in a garden overlooking a lake. And they decide together that war is the world's worst scourge, and, as they watch the rippling reflections in the water, with magnolia petals dropping on their shoulders, they are both of them peace-loving, modest and friendly... They really are exuding peace, and the world's desire for peace. And when their meeting is over, they shake hands in a most sincere fashion, and turn to smile and wave as they drive away. And the next day war breaks out." This time in India it was friendship, not war, but the context, used as metaphor, is always the same.

If, then, agreements, professions of friendship and joint endeavours can be worked out anywhere, in a similar diplomatic context, was it necessary for the current negotiations to have been concluded in a manner that involved setting the host's teeth on edge? The hosts meaning the citizenry of India, who will, presumably, be footing the bill for the visit of this distinguished guest. Anyone who has been a guest is acutely aware of the need not to embarrass his or her host, even if it means secretly enduring some inconvenience. And every host does all he or she can, even if it means inconveniencing themselves, to make the guest feel comfortable and well looked after.

When, however, a guest aggressively imposes his requirements on his host, requirements the host would have himself taken pains to meet, then it can be owing to one of two things: either the guest is crude or he is very conscious of his own standing, seeing his host as someone to be treated with condescension, a host whose feelings are not worth spending any time on.

Nobody would say that President Bush is crude or gross (though one might not say quite the same of some of those who came in as his 'security'), but condescension - well, that is something else. One can profess friendship and agree to cooperate on a multitude of matters, but condescension is in these matters non-negotiable. Today India is being talked of as a potential economic superpower. That clearly is not enough. Only when India is a superpower in every sense of the word can it make clear to a guest that any hospitality offered should be gratefully accepted, and if that is not possible, the said hospitality will be withdrawn. Until then, any negotiations should be conducted, as Giraudoux says, on a terrace in a garden overlooking a lake. A lake and a garden somewhere else.