Does it matter if Narendra Modi has not heard of guacamole?

Two decades ago a veteran diplomat recounted his experiences of a visit by Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru (accompanied by his daughter and two grandsons) to a West European country in the 1950s. Predictably, there were elaborate preparations at the Indian embassy and every care was taken to make the visit both diplomatically meaningful and personally enjoyable. Among other things, someone from Delhi discreetly whispered in the diplomat’s ear that Panditji would be chuffed if he had an occasion to savour his favourite Burgundy red — a bottle of Grands Echezeaux.
That India’s first Prime Minister could hold his own in the department of refined European tastes and reel off the name of a wine that most Indians had difficulty pronouncing, was a source of great pride in some desi quarters. A poor country struggling to find its feet, Indians in the Nehruvian era nurtured a deep inferiority complex vis-a-vis the developed world. Nehru compensated this sense of inadequacy by injecting a touch of class into the world of international diplomacy. He complemented his patrician demeanour with a social ease that came naturally to those blessed with an English public-school upbringing. He couldn’t be patronized by those with a superior sense of civilization. Indeed, there were times he loved patronizing others — a reason he got on the wrong side of, say, Zhou Enlai.

In her own way, Indira Gandhi added to this legacy with a haughtiness that made her an object of both admiration and hate. The manner in which she combined the moral case for Bangladesh with a disdain for the likes of President Richard Nixon who saw the world through the narrow prism of Cold War polarization won her praise at home. Like Nehru, Indira Gandhi compensated domestic inadequacies — the grim realities of the “ship-to-mouth” existence — with her personal style that made Indians feel better.

Fast forward to Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s short visit to the US last week, the high point of which was his address to a joint session of the US Congress. From all accounts, the speech was a spectacular success not merely because it touched all the right notes but because it spelt out succinctly — and with a refreshing touch of humour — the role India envisaged for itself in world affairs.

In India’s Nehruvian pre-history, our leaders would be excessively preoccupied celebrating the proverbial 4,000 years of civilization and blending inheritance with carping noises about an iniquitous world that — to use Frantz Fanon’s imagery — divided the world into humans and natives. To Krishna Menon, Nehru’s acerbic global ambassador, India was a “quality” in world affairs; to the West, however, it appeared as prickly and permanently aggrieved.

Modi has brought about a qualitative change in the way India now presents itself to the world. There is a tone of self-confidence couched with pragmatism. India presents itself as an opportunity and it seeks opportunities. A moralizing sense of guilt-tripping entitlement has been replaced by an insistence on reciprocity. India no longer expects the Great Powers to play the world’s policeman, patrolling the seas, fighting terror and undertaking peacekeeping missions. It wants an active role in all global initiatives — including ventures that demand the highest levels of technology. Without saying so explicitly, India under Modi has taken firm steps away from Third Worldism. The condescension that Nehru and Indira sought to brush away has disappeared but not on account of a leader’s personal style alone.

Modi is making India a happening place — although not without its share of hiccups. Most Indians felt proud at the frequent standing ovations that greeted Modi’s wonderfully crafted speech on Capitol Hill. But there were the critics too. Apart from those who taunted him as a non-resident PM for travelling to 35 countries in two years, the carping noises were centred on his earthy, very desi style that contrasted sharply with the cosmopolitanism of the Nehrus and Gandhis.

“Suggestion to his speechwriter,” wrote a veteran advertising professional, “Please eschew words that he is prone to mispronounce — as much as possible.” The aesthetic disdain of the Gujju bhai seemed most pronounced from those who see themselves as India’s liberal gatekeepers in the West. “Modi’s in Mexico,” proclaimed one, “I wonder if he’s tasted guacamole before?” How, proclaimed another, “would he pronounce chimichanga?”

So, in the end, when all else fails, it’s back to the chaiwala taunt. Nehru could uninhibitedly ask the sommelier for a decent bottle of Grands Echezeaux, while Modi wouldn’t know what guacamole is.