World: The Return of the Rosebud

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"Do you remember how fascinated you were when you first read the story of Jeanne d'Arc and how your ambition was to be something like her?" wrote Jawaharlal Nehru from a British prison in India to his daughter on her 13th birthday in 1930. "In India today we are making history, and you and I are fortunate to see this happening before our eyes. I cannot say what part will fall to our lot, but whatever it may be, let us remember that we can do nothing that may bring discredit on our cause or dishonour to our people. Goodbye, little one, and may you grow up a brave soldier India's service."

"It's a Girl." The father's wish seemed fittingly fulfilled last week. Into the oak-paneled central hall of New Delhi's Parliament House—where Nehru himself had guided India's fate for 17 years—glided a hauntingly attractive woman, her black hair streaked with grey, her brown eyes moist and mellow. On her brown shawl she wore a rosebud, just as Nehru had always worn one as his talisman of grace and hope in a sometimes graceless and hopeless land. Her hands held palm to palm in the traditional Indian greeting of namaste, she approached former Finance Minister Morarji Desai. "Will you bless my success?" she asked. "I give you my blessing," he replied. Then Indira Gandhi, the only daughter of Jawaharlal Nehru, took her seat and waited for the parliamentary members of the ruling Congress Party to elect a Prime Minister to replace Lal Bahadur Shastri, who died in Tashkent two weeks ago.

The balloting, done by written vote, and the counting took four hours. Then a party official announced the results: 355 votes for Indira Gandhi and 169 for her only rival, Morarji Desai. Indira walked quickly to the podium, spoke briefly. "As I stand before you," she said in Hindi, "my thoughts go back to the great leaders: Mahatma Gandhi, at whose feet I grew up, Panditji, my father, and Lal Bahadur Shastri. These leaders have shown the way, and I want to go along the same path."

Even as Indira spoke, a crowd milled outside the round Parliament building. For days, the result had been a foregone conclusion, but the crowd nevertheless anxiously awaited confirmation.

Finally, as the first members came out, someone shouted, "Is it a boy or a girl?" "A girl," came back the answer, and up went the cheers. Then a few minutes later, Indira appeared. The patrician profile, the pale smile, the rosebud—all reminded the crowd of their beloved Panditji. "Indira Gandhi zindabadr chanted the throng. "Long live Indira Gandhi!"