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Authors: Ashwin Sanghi

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Chankya's Chant (41 page)

BOOK: Chankya's Chant
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‘He must have a victory, something that enables him to become the centre of attention,’ said Gangasagar.

‘You mean the defence minister? He’s been saying that he has no ambitions to become the prime minister,’ said Chandini.

‘That’s not the same as saying he won’t allow his name to go forward if he’s persuaded by his well-wishers!’

‘The prime minister, the finance minister, the minister for external affairs, the home minister and the defence minister—they are all members of the same ruling party in New Delhi. Why should it matter to us which one eventually wins?’

‘There is one significant reason, Chandini.’

‘And what’s that?’

‘Our young tycoon, Somany, has an excellent equation with the defence minister. Remember Majestic Munitions? It’s in our interest that our man gets the job.’

‘So you think you can swing the prime minister’s job towards the defence minister?’

‘Yes, but he’s not seen as a serious contender for the top job. If he’s to emerge as an alternative he must do something dramatic, something that gives him instant credibility and recognition.’

‘Like what?’

‘We could ask him to win a war.’

‘Where?’

‘NJ9842.’

‘Never heard of it.’

‘Precisely why it’s the perfect location.’

Coordinate NJ9842 was the point from where the boundary dispute between India and Pakistan stretched into the highest battlefield in the world. Both countries’ troops were stationed eyeball to eyeball at a height of over twenty thousand feet above sea level at sub-zero temperatures. The Siachen Glacier—located in the Karakoram mountain range containing some of the highest peaks in the world—was one of the world’s most inhospitable regions. Temperatures hovered at around minus forty degrees centigrade and if one’s exposed skin touched metal, it would instantly bind as though with crazy glue. The glacier received ten metres of snow annually and blizzards reached one hundred and fifty knots.

Despite having been fitted with five layers of clothing, the defence minister shivered as he stepped off the special AN-32A military aircraft from Leh. A military advanced light helicopter was waiting to fly him to Point Sonam, the world’s highest helipad, built by the Indian army. The chopper pilot remained quiet. He didn’t wish to scare the minister by telling him that landing a chopper at Point Sonam was a hair-raising experience.

As the shuddering metal beast began its descent on the microscopic helipad perched atop a needle of ice, the rotor blades struggled to extract even minimal lift from the rarefied air. The decision to lower the minister via rope ladder when there was no need to do so was foolish, thought the pilot. But who was he to argue with the intellectual might of the bureaucracy at Sena Bhavan—defence ministry headquarters.

He turned around to look behind. He saw the nervous and bundled-up defence minister shivering, his teeth chattering. The pilot didn’t know that the defence minister was cursing his friend—Somany—under his breath as he got ready to descend the rope ladder. The minister didn’t know that the idea wasn’t Somany’s but Gangasagar’s.

‘There’s no war to be won,’ said Chandini.

‘There’s always a war if you look closely enough,’ said Gangasagar.

‘And where are you searching for it?’

‘In the newspapers,’ said Gangasagar.

‘Huh?’

‘The war to be won is on paper—a war of words! Not soldiers fighting! We don’t need anything that messy.’

‘I’m still confused.’

‘We’ll leak the story that Indian and Pakistani troops stationed in Siachen have exchanged fire.’

‘Have they?’ asked Chandini.

‘They
might
have,’ answered Gangasagar. ‘We can’t be sure that they didn’t. Exchange of random fire happens almost every day in Siachen.’

‘You could say that almost anything
might
be possible, using that particular theory!’

‘Precisely. They
might
have. They
might not
have. Who’s to say what’s the truth?’

‘And then?’

‘We tell Somany to ask the defence minister to visit the Indian troops in Siachen. Wonderful publicity with the minister of defence clambering down a rope ladder from a chopper. The ultimate protector of India’s sovereignty and integrity! Superman and Spiderman morphed into one!’

‘And then?’

‘Another leak that the situation was rapidly brought under control as a result of the defence minister’s personal initiative to visit the troops and the consequent lifting of their morale.’

‘The newspapers won’t fall for it—they’ll see it as a publicity stunt.’

‘They’ll believe it if a leaked secret report of an American defence think-tank says so.’

‘How will you get an American defence think-tank to say what you want it to?’

‘Majestic Munitions has a stake in Strategic Asia Research Defence—SARD—an American think-tank on Asian military matters. Somany has promised me a SARD report as and when I ask for it.’

‘And the report would be true?’

‘It
might
be. Who’s to say that the Pakistani troops
didn’t
withdraw!’

‘But they never
attacked
in the first place!’

‘Really? I didn’t know that. They
might
have.’

‘So it’s all one big lie?’

‘It
might
be. But then again, it
might not
!’

‘So what does Somany want in return for having swung the prime minister’s job the defence minister’s way?’ asked Chandini.

‘Nothing. He’s gained by having his own friend inside South Block. He will now use his newly acquired status to teach his senior partner—Rungta—a lesson,’ replied Gangasagar.

‘And we’re fine with that?’

‘In politics there are no permanent friends or enemies.’

‘Uncle Ganga, you shall definitely go to hell when you die!’

‘I’m entirely prepared for that eventuality, dear girl. I shall be delighted to go meet my maker. Luckily for me, my maker doesn’t seem to be in a hurry to meet me!’

Chandini was seated at her desk in her spacious office at Lal Bahadur Shastri Bhavan. Gangasagar was sitting on the sofa in the informal corner of her suite. They were watching the news. The anchor was saying:

‘The President of India on Wednesday dissolved the Lok Sabha with immediate effect, paving the way for constitution of the new House, which is expected later this month. The president signed an order to this effect following a recommendation from the new prime minister, the erstwhile minister of defence. Soon after a meeting of the Union Cabinet the prime minister drove to Rashtrapati Bhavan to submit the resignation of his council of ministers to the president in person. The president asked him to continue until a new ministry was formed. The meeting between the president and the prime minister lasted for thirty min—’

Gangasagar switched off the television, cutting the anchor in mid-sentence. ‘The bastard has called for early elections thinking that his newly-won national fame in Siachen will help him personally,’ said Gangasagar.

‘We’re ready for the ballot,’ said Chandini. ‘It does not matter that the date has been advanced by six months. We’ve spent the last two years doing nothing but preparing for this.’

‘Even so, it’s now crucial that the early opinion polls put us in the lead in Uttar Pradesh,’ said Gangasagar.

‘We don’t control public opinion,’ said Chandini.

‘There’s no such thing as public opinion. There’s only published opinion and we must ensure that it’s in our favour.’

‘How can we ensure that?’ asked Chandini, ‘Polls are carried out by newspapers and magazines. We don’t own them!’

‘Get your own private agency to carry out a poll. Newspapers that are starved for content shall be quite happy to publish the results as long as they can claim that they commissioned the study themselves.’

‘Even so, we can’t control the outcome!’

‘Use the conjurer’s fourth card.’

‘Huh? What’s that?’

‘When a conjurer shuffles the cards and asks you to pick a card, he already knows which card he wants you to pick—and you do, in fact, end up picking the card that he wants you to. Opinion polls are like that. You structure them such that the respondent answers exactly the way you want him to.’

‘But what’s the fourth card?’

‘Surveys should be conducted as four-question polls specifically tailored to the subject being interviewed. Never publish the preceding three questions—only the results of the fourth. They’re the only answers that are relevant!’

The woman pollster stopped the shopper just as she was exiting the grocery store.

‘Question One: As a woman, do you think our gender has been exploited and discriminated against by men?’

‘Yes.’

‘Question Two: Do you think men have monopolised power to the detriment of women?’

‘Yes.’

‘Question Three: Do you think it’s high time a strong woman was at the helm of affairs, not just in the state, but also at the Centre?’

‘Yes.’

‘Question Four: Do I take it that you would be willing to support a bid by Chandini Gupta to give greater representation to women?’

‘Yes.’

BOOK: Chankya's Chant
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