Galbraith: Scholar Looks at the Diplomat

The first of the Harvard-bred Kennedy appointees to return to his academic home, John Kenneth Galbraith, Paul M. Warburg Professor of Economics, speaks easily about his two-year tenure as the head of the U.S. embassy in India. Leaving no doubt that he was in charge both in deed and in fact, Galbraith maintained that any ambassador "can have as large a role as he wants" in policy decisions. In his own case, he added, he had an even greates voice in such decisions since he "went out there as President Kennedy's man in India."

Our man in India found himself with enough decisions to satisfy anyone in October, 1962. Galbraith, in London, received word on October 20 that the Red Chinese had launched a massive drive across the northern Indian border. But while the Ambassador's attention turned back to India, President Kennedy's was directed elsewhere. Galbrith remembered, "President Kennedy wired me to return to New Delhi immediately. I thought it was because of the Chinese attack, but, of course, it developed that he had the Cuban crisis in mind."

With Washington's attention focused on Khrushchev's moves in the Caribbean, Galbraith was left to handle the border war on his own. "I was thoroughly swamped with decisions and there probably wouldn't have been time to consult Washington on many problems anyway."

After the outbreak of fighting, developments were rapid. The United States agreed to provide, on credit, whatever materials India requested: "Washington may be slow on broad policy decisions," Galbraith observed, "but the Pentagon, if necessary, can react very rapidly." He pointed out that India asked for aid on a Monday, and by the following Saturday, plane-loads of supplies had begun to arrive on a regular schedule.

Since much of his responsibility lay in assigning priorities to India's needs, Galbraith met regularly with the Indian army generals "in order to sense the urgency of their requests."

But there were other reasons for his close supervision of the war. Misconduct of an operation in which so much U.S. aid was involved could expose the Kennedy administration to much unnecessary criticism. Thus when reports indicated that 75 per cent of the Indian army was stationed in the punjab on the Pakistani border, away from the Chinese front, Galbraith convinced the Indian generals that a different troop placement was in order.

Galbraith also found himself involved in many lesser offshoots of the war. When the government of Bhutan wanted advice on whether or not it should remain neutral, whose evaluation could be more sage than that of the representative of the U.S.A.? Who better than the U.S. ambassador to decide if slightly rusty ammunition which had just arrived from Europe was safe or not?

Galbraith praised Washington highly for the support he received during the war in spite of the Cuban crisis. "Of course," he added "a large part of the war effort in Washington was being handled by professor Carl Kaysen which kept it within the Economics department. That was a great advantage."

The strong and immediate Indian reaction has ended the threat of further Red Chinese aggression, at least for the moment, according to Galbraith. He feels strongly that "they did not expect us to be so quickly aroused. Our action has had a sufficient deterrent effect."

The Chinese attacks have had many repercussions within Indian politics. Specifically, they produced strong disillusionment with the Communist party. Traditionally weakened by bitter internal feuds, the Indian communists have been even further split. One wing of the party remains strongly pro-Chinese and consequently unpopular with other Indians. Other Communists despite their distaste for the Chinese attack, find it hard publicly to dissociate themselves from the Red Chinese; their popularity has also declined.

Conversely, United States popularity seems to be rising. Galbraith specifically noted the change which has occurred in the intellectual's attitude toward the United States. "Ten years ago the universities were quite hostile to us," but they now evidence a much friendlier and more understanding attitude. Galbraith cautioned, however, that his judgement was based primarily on the universities' reaction to him as ambassador. "I was helped by the fact that I wasn't closely identified with the right-wing, free enterprise theory of economics," he explained.

The ambassador attempted to bolster this pro-U.S. sentiment by judicious and efficient administration of the U.S. aid program, the cornerstone, in his opinion, of U.S. policy in India. The success of India's drive toward industrialization rests upon American aid, he said. "It is the pivot of the whole hope for India."

Since Galbraith feels that a program with projects scattered about the countryside must be supervised on the scene, and since the itinerant professor enjoys the sport of traveling anyway, touring the country became a big item on his schedule. "Besides," he explained, "you can understand little from the capital."

All personnel who administer the aid program should constantly be in the field, Galbraith maintains. "And you can't keep them out unless you're willing to venture out yourself."

His extensive travels often proved useful in unexpected ways. "I had visited northeastern India in the summer of 1962," he recalled; "when fighting broke out there in October, I was the only one able to instruct our men about the terrain."

Only one aspect of his job irritated Galbraith during his two years in New Delhi. "The social life of an ambassador is almost a complete waste of time," he insisted, "with almost no sacrifice it could be sharply reduced." Galbraith regrets the time which was spent merely entertaining other ambassadors. "I deeply resented the large block of time taken by purely ceremonial matters."

Galbraith apparently managed to fill his few dull moments in New Delhi by writing several satirical pieces for Esquire magazine under the pseudonym of Mark Epernay. Although many reliable sources indicate that the scholar-diplomat is indeed the man behind Epernay, Galbraith himself has never admitted any connection. "I have a rule about that," he explained. "I never comment on another author--no matter how good he may be."