Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II, the longest-serving British monarch, is no more. It is indeed a sad occasion for the entire world. It is a rare privilege for anyone to interact with a monarch. This author was lucky to have a brush with the British royalty over three decades ago.
The year was 1986. The occasion was the State visit of Her Majesty Queen Elizabeth II to the People’s Republic of China. The British monarch was paying her first-ever visit to the Middle Kingdom accompanied by HRH Prince Philip, Duke of Edinburgh. The mood on the Chinese side was euphoric, following the successful conclusion of the 1984 Sino-British Accord on the future of Hong Kong. The Chinese had spared no efforts to extend to the royal visitors a grand welcome. A multi-million Yuan villa, complete with its own lake and a flock of swans, was constructed just in time to house the visitors amidst the sylvan splendour of the Diao Yu Tai State Guesthouse.
The Indian and British embassies are nestled together in the Ri Tan quarter of Beijing. The excitement across the shared compound wall was palpable. Sir Richard Evans was the British Ambassador to Beijing. He was hosting a traditional English tea party to enable envoys and diplomats from the Commonwealth fraternity to greet Her Majesty and the Prince Consort. The venue was the sprawling garden in the premises of the British Embassy Residence. Even the junior-most diplomats from all Commonwealth missions had been invited. All of us in the Indian embassy trooped across, dressed in sombre band-gala outfits, led by the then Ambassador KPS Menon and his deputy, Counsellor Shivshankar Menon (later the National Security Adviser of India).
The British Embassy had circulated a set of protocol instructions for the uninitiated. The first of these stipulated the dress code. For gentlemen, it was to be either the national dress or a dark suit with a dark tie. For the ladies, the choice was between the national dress and formal European dress with a hat and veil. The second instruction was somewhat terser and more direct. The form of address, it read, would be “Your Majesty” the first time. Thereafter, the circular was careful to emphasise, Her Majesty should be addressed as “Ma’am”, but definitely not “Madam”. The vowel ‘a’ in “Ma’am”, the note went on, should neither be too long, as in “Ma-a-am”, nor too short, as in “Mum”!
As we milled about in the garden, I nervously went over the instructions. The royal couple were to traverse separately along two predetermined paths in the garden, which were to be kept free of persons at all times. We were told that Her Majesty and Prince Philip may decide to stop to converse with the guests. They would prefer not to shake hands, and therefore, there should be no unilateral proffering of hands please, the circular had warned.
When Her Majesty passed by, close to where I stood, she suddenly stopped in her tracks and looked at me. I drew in a deep breath.
“Are you from India,” she enquired. “Yes, Your Majesty,” I was quick to respond. “Isn’t it nice to have such a wonderful garden party,” she went on. “Yes, Ma’am, indeed it is,” I blurted out.
Thank heavens, I got that right, despite the pounding in my heart! She enquired if I enjoyed being stationed in Beijing and what I did in my spare time. I stated briefly that my hobbies included calligraphy, ice-skating and exploring the abandoned Ming Tombs and remote sections of the Great Wall. Her Majesty nodded appreciatively and resumed her walk.
Immediately thereafter, a bevy of excited guests, including British, surrounded me, eager to know what she had said. Delighted in the attention given to me, I shared every syllable exchanged during the brief encounter.
Some years later, in February 1992, I had the privilege of having an exclusive audience with Their Royal Highnesses (TRH) The Prince and Princess of Wales, during their visit to India. The visit of Prince Charles (now His Majesty King Charles III) and Princess Diana had generated unprecedented media interest. It was the photo opportunity of the year. A swarm of Indian and foreign journalists were monitoring their every move.
As part of my professional duties as Officer On Special Duty (Press Relations) in the External Publicity Division of the Ministry of External Affairs, I had facilitated the arrangements for the large British media party accompanying the royal visitors. Quite suddenly, on the morning of their departure for south India, I was informed that TRH The Prince and Princess of Wales wished to receive me, along with a select group of officials associated with the visit, as part of their “Delhi Farewells”.
I arrived at Rashtrapati Bhavan at the appointed hour, well-groomed and attired in my finest suit and tie. I was in exalted company. The small group included the Secretary to the President, the Military Secretary to the President and the Chief of Protocol of the Government of India The farewells began in the reverse order of seniority. Being the junior-most of the lot, I was summoned first and, without much ado, announced by the Secretary to the Prince of Wales and ushered into their presence in the Nalanda Suite. For a brief moment, I truly felt like the proverbial sacrificial lamb.
Prince Charles (now His Majesty King Charles III) had been briefed that I was responsible for all the media arrangements for his visit. He was quick to put me at ease.
“I hope the British media have not been troubling you,” he said, referring to the very large number of journalists that had flown in from the UK to cover the visit.
“On the contrary, Your Royal Highness, the media has behaved splendidly. We have faced no problems,” I replied. “Occasionally though, the press as a whole, wherever, does fail to draw a distinction between the right-to-know and the duty-to-find-out,” I added, in a lighter vein.
The Prince and Princess of Wales nodded and smiled knowingly. After a few moments of polite conversation, I took leave. Princess Diana passed on a small packet to Prince Charles. He handed it over to me, saying it was a token of their appreciation for all the effort that I had put in for their visit.
I stepped out of the chamber. Upon unwrapping the packet, I discovered an autographed portrait of TRH The Prince and Princess of Wales. The photograph still occupies an important place among the memorabilia in my possession, even though the colours have faded with the inexorable passage of time.
The author, a former Ambassador, is the Director General, Manohar Parrikar Institute for Defence Studies and Analyses, New Delhi. Views expressed are personal.
Read all the Latest Opinion News and Breaking News here
Comments
0 comment