He debated as to whether he should first call President Tao in Beijing, Hari Dixit in India or John Hastings in the United States. Alternatively, he could muster support from the second-rank powers such as Iran, Syria, Indonesia or even muddy the waters by talking to Anthony Pincher in London, the French President, Jacques Duquan or the German Chancellor, Willhelm Braun.
If Gorbunov knew anything about politicians, it was their inability to handle embarrassment in a way which few military men would contemplate. A blindness enveloped a politician in a corner, and the two men fighting in the scramble for Asia were politicians through and through. The man with the most to lose was President Tao in Beijing, because Chinese culture had promoted shame high on the league table of faults. They called it ‘face’, and a Chinese losing face was like a Russian losing his soul. While Russia was still searching for her soul, China was close to becoming embarrassed internationally, and that would make her the most dangerous country in the world.
President Tao had only made one misjudgement in his planning, and even then the odds of events unfolding as they did were high. Tao had not anticipated India’s ability to move its airpower from Pakistan to the eastern front at precisely the time China’s forces inside India were so vulnerable. It was an easy mistake to make. Very few analysts would have predicted America’s use of non-lethal weapons against Hamid Khan — particularly when he had pledged not to make another tactical nuclear strike. But then, Gorbunov himself was taken aback when Khan launched the missile into Srinagar. Such were the patterns of war, and it was a war which might be far from over.
The only man who could let the Chinese down without embarrassment was Hari Dixit. Gorbunov’s call came through as Dixit was flying from the bunker in Haryana back to Delhi, the nuclear threat from Pakistan over. It was a disjointed conversation, picking up the crackle of the helicopter’s intercom.
‘Can you call it quits with China, Hari? Make peace. Pakistan is defeated. There’s no reason to fight.’
‘If you can broker it, Vlad, I’ll do it. We can’t give away Kashmir and we can’t expel the Dalai Lama. We can negotiate the border disputes, starting with reducing troop levels. We can negotiate what they’re doing in Myanmar.’
‘Can you give them an honourable withdrawal from Arunachal Pradesh?’
‘I can hardly hear you, Vlad. Tell President Tao that I’ll order a ceasefire now, right now, as long as his troops don’t try and fight their way out. If he agrees to back off and talk, then we can wind everything down.’
The line to Beijing was much clearer and the Russian President was patched through to the military headquarters in the Western Hills.
‘India has called a unilateral ceasefire in Arunachal Pradesh,’ Gorbunov told Tao. ‘You can withdraw to the former border, claim victory if you want, and then begin talks on everything else.’
‘You don’t understand, Admiral Gorbunov. It’s very difficult,’ said Tao slowly.
‘Then explain it to me.’
‘We are within a hair’s breadth of losing Tibet unless we send in the army like you had to in Chechnya. The insurgency is far more entrenched than we had ever thought. The SFF and other rebels are using India as their base. It would be impossible for us to make peace with India while this is going on.’
Gorbunov had not been directly involved in the Chechnya campaign — but he was well aware of the deeply entrenched national sentiment involved. Tao would prefer to lose in Arunachal Pradesh rather than be seen to compromise in Tibet.
When Gorbunov called Hari Dixit again, the Indian Prime Minister had arrived in his office in Delhi’s South Block. Much of the rioting had given way to celebrations, but buildings in Connaught Place were smouldering and communal killings were still continuing.
‘Will you move in on the Tibetan bases? At least make a show of doing it.’
‘While China is occupying our territory, it’s politically very difficult. We have about twenty million Buddhists in India. They are only two per cent of the population, but it is a significant number of people. The Tibetan cause has a huge resonance here. There’s also a growing anger about China’s support for Pakistan. It might be defeated now. But it could rise up again and it did resort to using a nuclear weapon.’
‘On Pakistani soil,’ interjected Gorbunov.
‘I’m not debating, Vlad, I’m explaining to you the issues with which we have to deal, so that you might be able to see a way to broker through a peace. If I announced a crackdown on Tibetan exiles, while invading Chinese troops were still on our soil, I’m not sure the Indian people would allow it. I’m not sure the party would, or the administration.’
‘You mean you couldn’t get it through?’
‘I honestly don’t think I could. On top of that, there would be an outcry from the Hollywood human rights activists on Tibet. That is not important domestically, but it has a huge impact internationally.’
‘Tell me what you need, then.’
‘As soon as Tao gets off our turf, I will reaffirm our policy of not allowing Tibetan exiles to partake in armed activity on Indian soil. I’ll reinforce the border, put up air patrols and pass on information to Chinese intelligence. In return, he would have to allow an international human rights mission with a substantive Indian component to visit Lhasa and report on the consequences of the uprising.’
‘And you’ll keep the ceasefire?’
‘At least until you get back to me.’
Before talking to Tao again, Gorbunov telephoned John Hastings in the White House. ‘I think I have the makings of a peace agreement, but I need your guarantee that America will stay out until it’s fixed.’ Gorbunov outlined what he had brokered so far.
‘Would Tao send the army into Tibet, Chechnya-style, or is he posturing?’
‘We’ve been in a similar position,’ said the Russian President. ‘My bet is that he would move in, secure the territory again and pick up the pieces later. It would be twenty years before Tibetans get back the level of freedom they even have now. From the little I know of the American democratic process, it would put you in a very difficult position.’
‘That could be the understatement of the year. You have my word we will give you the space to try to push through an agreement. Good luck.’
Prime Minister’s Office, Wellington, New Zealand
Harriet Sheehan, the Prime Minister of New Zealand, looked at the photographs on her desk and felt the pressure of the people at the meeting for a decision. It showed the bruised face of Michael Hall, the SBS New Zealand commando sniper, who stayed behind on the Cocos Islands so his colleagues could escape. He had been shot in the leg and captured. The picture had been taken from a video, first released through the Burmese Embassy in Bangkok to the television news agencies and then broadcast around the world. The video showed Hall being jeered at by local citizens, and protected by Burmese troops. Then he was sitting at a table eating with the troops. The audio was clear and the Burmese conversation had already been translated. Sheehan felt that odd twinge of national pride when it became clear that Hall was living through his capture with true grit. The enemy had no idea of Hall’s identity or his nationality. He could have been a Serb mercenary for all they knew, and despite clear signs of torture, Hall had not spoken once.
The New Zealand Defence Minister, Benjamin Leigh, broke the silence. ‘The dead frogman was a Malay with no identification. I suggest, Prime Minister, that we say nothing whatsoever.’