The Adventurous Life

Handsomely mounted on a white horse, India's Prime Minister Nehru last week cantered up a road in the hill resort of Mussoorie. Looking as fit as a much younger man and wearing a red rose in his buttonhole, 69-year-old Jawaharlal Nehru dismounted at Birla House, a large English-style cottage, and strode across the green lawn in the glittering afternoon sunshine that drenched the surrounding fir trees and the distant snowy peaks of the Himalayas. A line of Tibetan officials bowed to Nehru, presented him with an armload of ceremonial white scarves. The curtains parted in the main doorway, and out stepped the smiling Dalai Lama for his first meeting with Nehru since the God-King of Tibet fled the Red Chinese reconquest of his homeland (TIME, April 13). "How are you?" asked Nehru. Answered the Dalai Lama in his best English: "I am quite nice."

Soothing Reply. Nehru had made quite a day of his visit to Mussoorie. That morning, he gave a political pep talk to local Congress Party workers, then moved on to Mussoorie's Savoy Hotel to address the Travel Agents Association of India, crisply advising his audience that travel "should involve some adventure, some risk, some hardship," because the "comfortable life is rightly boring and dull."

The admonitions he gave to travelers were ones that Nehru was in no mood to follow himself against aggressive Red China. Speaking about India's relations with Peking, Nehru soft-pedaled all thought of risk, hardship and adventure. It was almost as if he were setting out to prove that the revolt in Tibet--"the treacherous armed rebellion," in Peking's words--was nothing to get excited about.

From Red China came the boast--for the sixth week in a row--that the rebellion had been put down, this time with 2,000 rebel casualties and the "wiping out of rebel nests" along the Indian border. At least one man outside Red China knew pretty well what was happening across his secluded border, but Nehru was not saying. His consulate in Lhasa has the only radio link with the free world. But, for reasons of state, as well as personal inclination, Nehru was following a policy of see-no-evil, speak-no-evil regarding Red China. There were reports that he had sent additional troop re-enforcements to the Tibet border; he was known not to wish to be subjected to an influx of Tibetan refugees.

Peking had obviously concluded that the way to handle Nehru was to menace him. Though an articulate denouncer of distant injustices, Nehru now told the press outside the Dalai Lama's house that he did not want "this matter to become a subject of heated exchanges and heated debates. I want to avoid the situation's getting worse." To newsmen eager to talk to the God-King, Nehru replied that he was sure the Dalai Lama was "more interested in a peaceful solution of the Tibetan problem than in press interviews."

Nehru suggested that Red China send its own puppet ruler of Tibet, the Panchen Lama, plus any interested Red Chinese emissaries, to visit the Dalai Lama and see for themselves that he was not being held "under duress" as the Red radio proclaimed. Nehru hoped that conditions would "some day" relax so that the God-King might go home to Tibet. His own contribution, whether intentionally or not, was to deaden the world's outrage, while the Red Chinese put down the rebellion.

Friendly Letters. Red China returned harsh insults for Nehru's soft words. The Peking radio continued to scream that the rebellion had been instigated by "Indian expansionists" and "foreign imperialists" and bluntly named Nehru's daughter Indira, 41, and his sister Madame Pandit, 58, as co-conspirators with the Tibetan "reactionaries." Stubbornly, the Reds repeated the big lie that the God-King's statement in India that he had fled Tibet of his own volition and his denouncement of the Reds for treaty breaking were "fabrications" by imperialist intriguers.

After a four-hour conference with the Dalai Lama, Nehru emerged from Birla House and, faced by a battery of cameras and microphones, gave reporters a two-minute interview. It had been, said Nehru, "a very full talk, I hope a helpful talk." Then he offered an unintentional assist to the Red propagandists by conceding that, while in Lhasa, the Dalai Lama had indeed written "friendly" letters to the Red commandant because he 1) was passing through difficult and troubled times, and 2) was trying to avoid open conflict with Peking.

Having made it clear to all--and especially to Red China--that the Dalai Lama would get political asylum in India but no help in regaining his homeland, Nehru remounted his white horse and traveled--avoiding risk, hardship and adventure--off into the evening.

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