It was agreed that Prime Minister Nehru of India, as a neutral, should
supervise the matter, and that New Delhi would be the scene of the
actual tossing. And Nehru thought it fitting to invite General O'Reilly,
as the father of the whole thing, to bring the same "Golden Judge" to
India, to be used again.
The general came gladly, but declined to make the toss himself. "My
country is too closely involved in this matter," he explained, "and
there might be talk if an American made the toss."
He suggested Nehru himself do it, and the Prime Minister agreed.
The actual tossing was done in the great governmental palace, and
Communist China won. Chiang Kai Shek's delegate bowed impassively and
said coolly that his government yielded without question to the goddess
of chance.
That night the Indian Prime Minister was host to a glittering official
banquet to celebrate the ending of the "offshore island" crisis.
"And we must lift our glasses," he said eloquently after dinner, "to the
man who discovered this eminently sane method of settling quarrels--a
method so sensible, so fair that it is difficult to believe that in all
the world's long search for peace, it has not been discovered before. I
give you General O'Reilly!"
The general rose to loud applause. He expressed his thanks modestly, and
disclaimed any merit except that of pure luck. Then he held up the
"Golden Judge" itself, with a gleam in his eye.
"I hope," he said, "that this coin will have still more work to do.
Surely there are still disputed places in the world, where justice lies
on both sides, where only 'face-saving' prevents a settlement. And
surely it is better to resort to this coin than to force and war and
bitter arguments that drag on year after year."
"Hear! Hear!" Nehru cried, leading the applause. General O'Reilly stood
smiling until it died away.
"Places like Kashmir," he said clearly.
There was a gasp of laughter, quickly hushed. Nehru's face was pale with
anger; he was famous for his temper. And everyone knew how India and
Pakistan had quarreled for years over Kashmir, and that all the efforts
of the United Nations had come to nothing so far.
"I was delighted to hear Prime Minister Nehru say," General O'Reilly
went on calmly, "how much he approved this method of settling old
disputes. And I should be very glad to help--with this." Smiling, he
tossed the Golden Judge in the air and caught it again.
Nehru could keep silent no longer. Like a skilled Oriental debater, he
struck back indirectly. "We thank General O'Reilly," he said acidly,
"for his kind offer, but perhaps it should be first used by his own
people, the Irish, of whose gambling prowess he is so proud. Surely no
bitterness has lasted longer than that between the Republic of Ireland
and the 'Six Lost Counties' of Northern Ireland. Let the Irish use the
Golden Judge themselves before they counsel it for others!"
But General O'Reilly was unruffled. "I'm an American, myself," he said,
smiling, "although proud indeed of my Irish blood. And the _Irish_ Irish
will have to speak for themselves, although I venture to say you'll find
them a sporting people indeed. But that's not quite the point, is it?
'Twas you yourself, sir, who praised the Golden Judge so highly. And
you've seen today what fine sportsmen the Chinese are. The point is, are
the _Indians_ a sporting people?"
"Of course we're a sporting people!" Nehru glared.
"Then I take it you'd be willing, assuming Pakistan agrees, of course,
but I'm told they're a _very_ sporting people, to--" The general tossed
the coin again, absent-mindedly.
"All right!" Nehru grated. "If they agree, so do we!"
* * * * *
It took a month before Pakistan could agree, and all the arrangements be
made for the Toss on Kashmir. But in that month, the world had other
things to think about. Chiang Kai Shek accepted his gambling loss
without a murmur and removed his troops from Quemoy and Matsu, the
American Seventh Fleet helping, the Communists not interfering. All
civilians on the islands who wished to go to Formosa were taken there.
Washington said little officially, but in the corridors of the
Pentagon, Congress and the White House, the sighs of relief reached gale
force. General O'Reilly received a confidential and personal message
from the Army Chief of Staff that made him pink with pleasure.
"May get that third star after all," he told his wife that night. "And
not too long to wait, maybe."
But, above all, the month was filled with clamor from Ireland. Her
Majesty's Government in Whitehall had immediately issued a communiqué
which took a glacial view of the "puerile" proposal to toss for Northern
Ireland. It was the timing of this communiqué, rather than its contents,
that proved a tactical error. It had come too quickly, and Irishmen,
both north and south, resented it.
As a Belfast newspaper wrote tartly: "Irishmen on both sides of the line
are quite able to decide such matters for themselves, without the
motherly interference of London."
Dublin agreed in principle to toss, but the wrangling over conditions
and exceptions boiled up into the greatest inter-Irish quarreling of
twenty years. It was still raging when General O'Reilly flew into the
Vale of Kashmir with a broad smile and the Golden Judge.
Again the great coin glittered high in the air while none other than
Nehru himself called out, tensely: "Heads!"