ISTAKING JAPPI FOR DIPLOMATIC GAINS

My today’s newspaper commentary: MISTAKING JAPPI FOR DIPLOMATIC GAINS By Ashok Ogra “In diplomacy, the hug is free. The handshake is history. But the fine print is what decides the future.” (Attributed to Henry Kissinger) Had Prime Minister Narendra Modi and his foreign policy advisors heeded this pragmatic counsel, the steep tariffs imposed by the Trump administration on Indian exports might not have come as such a surprise. The public bonhomie between Modi and Trump-visible not only during Modi's visit to the U.S., but also during Trump’s grand reception in Ahmedabad-was widely celebrated in the Indian media as a symbol of strengthened ties. There were hugs, handshakes, long walks, and grand spectacles. As is often the case, large sections of the media amplified the optics with breathless enthusiasm, mistaking performance for policy and pageantry for progress. In 2019, before a packed stadium of over 50,000 Indian-Americans at the “Howdy, Modi!” event in Houston, the Prime Minister famously declared, “Ab ki baar, Trump sarkar”-a slogan widely interpreted as an implicit endorsement of Donald Trump’s re-election. It was an extraordinary moment: a foreign leader seemingly backing a sitting US president in the middle of a heated electoral cycle-a move that would raise eyebrows in most diplomatic circles. This bonhomie blanked out the naked truth that, in diplomacy, charm can be the enemy of clarity, often mistaking warmth for commitment. No wonder, when it came to policy, Trump remained unflinchingly transactional. His administration imposed higher tariffs on Indian steel and aluminum, revoked India’s Generalized System of Preferences (GSP) trade benefits, and repeatedly raised concerns over market access and trade imbalances. Personal warmth, it turned out, did not temper America’s hard-nosed approach to economic interests. One might take refuge in the counterargument that Trump was unpredictable, mercurial, a deal-maker. But what about other world leaders with whom we believed Modi had struck a personal rapport-Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman of Saudi Arabia, President Recep Tayyip Erdoğan of Turkey, Indonesian President Prabowo Subianto, and others? We were treated to images of hugs and warm handshakes between Modi and these leaders. And yet, none of them stood by India during Operation Sindhoor. On the contrary, Turkey openly supported and aided the Pakistan Army. The truth is: charm often clouds clarity. In the Arthashastra, Kautilya (Chanakya) lays down the principles of statecraft with cold precision. He warns rulers not to be swayed by displays of affection or flattery from other kings. In modern times, a hug is just a hug-it is not a treaty. Let me add that Modi is not the only world leader to fall into the trap of believing that personal chemistry can influence the strategic direction of another nation’s foreign policy. Let us examine this paradox through historical and contemporary examples. During World War II, U.S. President Franklin D. Roosevelt went to great lengths to cultivate a personal rapport with Soviet leader Joseph Stalin, hoping it would shape the post-war peace. The meetings in Tehran and Yalta involved many gestures of goodwill and flattery. But Stalin’s vision was grounded in power politics. Within months of WWII ending, the Iron Curtain descended, and the Cold War began. Roosevelt’s personal outreach could not prevent the Soviet annexation of Eastern Europe or the arms race that followed. The summit between Vladimir Putin and George W. Bush in 2001 is even more telling. After meeting Putin, Bush famously said: “I looked the man in the eye. I found him to be very straightforward and trustworthy. I was able to get a sense of his soul.” But by the end of Bush’s presidency, Putin had invaded Georgia (2008), crushed internal dissent, and actively worked to undermine U.S. influence in Eastern Europe. Bush’s initial warmth proved irrelevant in the face of Russia’s strategic assertiveness. Back home, in the 1950s, Indian Prime Minister Nehru and Chinese Premier Chou Enlai exchanged visits and promoted the slogan “Hindi-Chini Bhai-Bhai.” But in 1962, China invaded India, dealing a humiliating blow to Nehru. The personal rapport between Nehru and Chou Enlai—bolstered by shared anti-colonial ideals and grand conferences like Bandung-meant little in the face of geopolitical calculations over Tibet, Aksai Chin, and border strategy. In February 1999, Prime Minister Vajpayee undertook a historic bus journey to Lahore to meet his Pakistani counterpart, Nawaz Sharif. The two leaders signed the Lahore Declaration, committing to respect each other’s territorial integrity and resolve issues (including Kashmir) through peaceful bilateral means. It was widely seen as a courageous and visionary step by Vajpayee, who reached out to Pakistan despite internal political risks. Barely three months later, Indian Army patrols discovered Pakistani soldiers and militants had infiltrated Indian positions across the Line of Control (LoC) in the Kargil sector of Jammu & Kashmir. The operation was codenamed "Operation Badr" by the Pakistani military—resulting in a bloody conflict. In Vajpayee’s own words (in Parliament): “We went to Lahore with a hand of friendship, and we got Kargil in return.” All these are not isolated misjudgments; they are reminders that in international relations, the head must guide the heart. History shows, time and again, that while warm gestures, shared photographs, and joint declarations make for compelling headlines, they rarely translate into loyalty when it matters most. A poignant example of the limits of personal diplomacy lies in the tragic fate of Zulfikar Ali Bhutto, Pakistan’s charismatic prime minister and later president. In 1974, Bhutto orchestrated one of the most ambitious diplomatic achievements in modern Muslim history: he hosted the Islamic Summit Conference in Lahore, bringing together a remarkable constellation of leaders — from King Faisal and Muammar Gaddafi to Yasser Arafat and many others. Bhutto basked in the admiration of the Islamic world. He struck emotional chords and cultivated personal friendships with leaders across the ideological spectrum - monarchs, revolutionaries, secularists, and Islamists alike. But the illusion shattered just five years later. In 1979, following his ouster by General Zia-ul-Haq and a highly controversial trial, Bhutto was sentenced to death. One might have expected those same leaders - who had toasted his leadership and stood shoulder to shoulder with him in Lahore- to rise in protest, to rally, to pressure Zia’s regime with consequences. Instead, they chose silence. A few sent private appeals. Some expressed symbolic regret. But no summit was called, no ambassadors were withdrawn, no oil leverage used, no meaningful threat issued to stop what many believed was a judicial execution cloaked in legal process. The same leaders who once cheered Bhutto’s vision quietly recalibrated their positions. Their national interests, domestic calculations, and geopolitical alignments outweighed the memory of personal warmth or ideological kinship. Herein lies the lesson: While optics can open doors and create an atmosphere of goodwill, it is strategic depth, preparation, and clarity of purpose that sustain meaningful outcomes. The Modi–Trump chapter is a sobering reminder that while leaders may share stages, slogans, and handshakes, governments ultimately negotiate from positions of interest-not emotion. In an age of populism and spectacle, diplomacy must guard against the seduction of performance. Personal chemistry may soften the tone, but it is only thoughtful policy and institutional engagement that shape the actual terms of engagement. Modern leaders would do well to recall an ancient wisdom: “Do not confuse sentiment with strategy. The embrace may be warm, but the heart may still be cold with calculation.” Perhaps, Modi might take note of Xi Jinping, whose impassive demeanour reflects a distinct Chinese diplomatic style-never revealing too much, never giving away the game. For China, symbolism is theatre; substance is strategy. What is seen publicly is performance; what is plotted privately is policy? A hug may be offered, but the hand behind the back might still be tightening the screws-through tariffs, sanctions, or covert sabotage. Meanwhile, from the food famine of 1965 to the burdens of the 1971 Bangladesh war, and the international sanctions following the 1998 nuclear tests, India has weathered each challenge with quiet determination and a deep sense of national resolve. Today’s global trade tensions, though serious, are not unfamiliar territory. India’s knows how to endure, adapt, and ultimately emerge stronger. The lesson for the present government is clear: symbolic closeness must be matched by substantive negotiations, and knowing that true diplomacy is written in agreements, not applause. That’s a lesson our diplomats would do well to carry into future summits-minus the assumptions. That, and only that, will ensure Prime Minister Modi navigates this headwind with the same resilience that has defined it before.