On March 26, 2010, the South Korean navy’s corvette, Cheonan, sank off the country’s west coast on the Yellow Sea. The incident, which resulted in the death of 46 South Korean seamen, plunged the Korean peninsula into a serious crisis, one that continues to rage five months on. The South Korean government constituted and led an international team of investigators, comprising experts from the United States of America, Britain, Canada, Australia and Sweden. The investigation, completed by mid-May, concluded that the ship had been sunk by a North Korean torpedo.

Pyongyang, of course, hotly denied any involvement in the matter. Visiting Beijing in early May, the North Korean leader, Kim Jong-il, told his Chinese interlocutors that his country was innocent of the charges being hurled at it. It suited the Chinese to accept Kim’s disavowals; for they believed that pushing North Korea into a corner would only aggravate the crisis, with incalculable consequences for all concerned including China. Owing to China’s refusal to take a tough line with North Korea, the United Nations security council restricted itself to a presidential statement, which condemned the attack without naming the perpetrator.

In a bid to assuage the concerns of South Korea, the US announced a major joint naval exercise. As so often in international crises, this step aimed at reassuring an ally ended up unnerving an adversary. The Chinese military vociferously opposed the proposed exercise. As a concession to Beijing, the exercise was held in the Sea of Japan and not in the Yellow Sea. But Seoul decided to conduct a follow-on anti-submarine exercise in the Yellow Sea near the border with North Korea. Throughout Pyongyang has warned of retaliation to ‘aggressive’ steps by South Korea and the US. Nevertheless, Seoul and Washington are disinclined to take any step that would convey a weakening of their resolve to resist further aggressive action by Pyongyang.

The situation, in short, has all the makings of a grave international crisis. Interestingly, these developments occurred against the backdrop of the 60th anniversary of the Korean War. That conflict broke out on June 25, 1950, and has never really ended. After all, there is no official peace between the two Koreas — only an armistice that came into place when the fighting ended in 1953. Juxtaposing the current crisis with that tumultuous war throws up an important observation. It is striking to note that whilst India played a significant role during the Korean War, it is entirely absent in the deliberations surrounding the ongoing crisis. This is something of a paradox. Although India was then a much weaker player in the international system compared to its position today, it had a rather more influential presence. This paradox can only be resolved if we recognize the adroitness with which Jawaharlal Nehru used the idea of non-alignment to bolster India’s standing on the international stage.

Central to Nehru’s conception of non-alignment was the notion that India should take a considered stance on key international issues and problems, untrammelled by the views and concerns of the great powers. The Korean War was the first major test of this idea. Immediately after the outbreak of the war, India went along with the UN resolutions blaming North Korea for the attack and demanding the cessation of hostilities and the restoration of status quo ante. Nehru was convinced that the North had embarked on well-planned aggression. Unless it was resisted the entire fabric of the UN would begin to unravel. At the same time, he declined to send troops to fight as part of the UN Command. He also sent messages to Stalin and the American secretary of state, Dean Acheson, stressing the need to take into account the role and interests of China in the evolving conflict by bringing it into the UN system. Although the Americans were not entirely pleased with India’s stance, they relied on Nehru to urge China to eschew involvement in the conflict.

As the American-led forces seized the initiative and began to pursue the North Koreans into their own territory, Beijing grew concerned. On September 21, 1950, the Chinese premier, Zhou Enlai, warned the Indian ambassador, K.M. Panikkar, that “if America extends her aggression China will have to resist”, for it would endanger China’s security. Nehru took this seriously. He at once requested Zhou to remain patient and asked the Western powers to conduct their operations with restraint. But the Americans, goaded by their supreme military commander in Korea, General Douglas MacArthur, lampooned India’s concerns — Panikkar was branded “panicky” — and drove right up to the North Korean border with China. Sure enough, Chinese forces moved south of their borders, joined battle with the Western coalition, and threw back MacArthur’s advancing armies.

Nehru now focused his diplomatic energies on preventing further escalation. Along with ten other Asian states, India requested China and North Korea to declare their intention not to enter South Korea again. Simultaneously, Nehru asked the British prime minister, Clement Attlee, to secure Washington’s agreement to work for a ceasefire and demilitarization, to be followed by multi-party negotiations on the future of Korea. The same proposal was also advanced to Beijing. Although China expressed some interest, President Harry Truman spurned the idea. Subsequently, Nehru suggested a four-power conference, involving the US, China, Britain and the Soviet Union, to consider all outstanding issues in the Far East. Zhou suggested enlarging this to include India, France and Egypt as well. But the US continued to sneer at Indian proposals. The mood in the West was reflected in The Economist, which wrote that Nehru was “as much an appeaser as Chamberlain”, if anything “more dangerous”. The military stalemate persisted and diplomatic efforts ran aground.

Over a year later, India played an important role in breaking the diplomatic deadlock. The armistice negotiations were stuck on the question of repatriating prisoners of war. China and North Korea wanted a wholesale swap of PoW; but the Americans demurred. The number of prisoners in American and South Korean custody was much larger than those with China and North Korea. A complete exchange would only end up strengthening the latter in a fresh round of fighting. Besides, the Americans claimed that several PoW had been press-ganged for the war and did not want to go back to their countries. Nehru suggested that all prisoners be interviewed by an independent body and only those that wished to return be repatriated. The Chinese were initially hostile to this idea, branding it a concession to the West. But Nehru stuck to his stance, and eventually Beijing came around to it. In the ensuing Korean settlement, India was made the chairman of the repatriation commission, a role which proved rather more difficult than envisaged by Nehru but was pulled off by India with dignity and assurance.

The point of comparing India’s role in the Korean War with its absence in the current crisis is not to suggest that New Delhi should seek to be a mediator in every international conflict. Rather, it is to underline the fact that India’s standing on the world stage is closely connected with its ability to set the agenda of international politics. That India is nowhere to be seen when a serious crisis is brewing in Asia tells us something about New Delhi’s position in the emerging Asian security architecture. The Nehruvian idea of non-alignment is all too often dismissed today as windy vapourings. In so doing, we risk throwing out the baby with the bathwater. The power of argument will be as important as the argument of power in securing India’s position as a major international player. The Korean War of 1950 shows some ways in which this power can be harnessed by a rising India.