WASHINGTON: Some six weeks back, I asked a senior Indian diplomat returning to Washington DC for a second tour after 14 years what he thought of so many Indian-Americans in key positions in the US administration. We were chatting at the swearing-in of the new assistant secretary of state Nisha Desai Biswal in the State Department auditorium, where a festive mix of Americans and Indian-Americans, mostly from the State Department and other wings of the administration and Congress, had gathered.Biswal had been a staffer on Capitol Hill during the Indian diplomat’s previous stint in DC and her rise in the capital’s power structure had been impressive. She had been a deputy to the USAID administrator Rajiv Shah (also Indian-American) before she was nominated to be assistant secretary. Meanwhile, the administration was lining up another Indian-American, Atul Keshap, to serve as her deputy. Since the Indian diplomat had left Washington more than a decade ago, two Indian-Americans had become state governors, with one of them tipped for a White House run.All this was very thrilling, and rather unprecedented, for the Indian-American community, and there were many happy, beaming 'desi' faces in the auditorium that day. In fact, in my 20 years on the Washington beat I had never seen such a large swearing-in for an assistant secretary. Nisha Desai Biswal's big boss, secretary of state John Kerry, left little doubt about the reasoning behind her nomination."Nisha's experience and the success that so many Indian Americans bring to the American table shows the world the deep ties that we have between the US and India," he said. "We are invested in that region's prosperity for the long haul and in naming Nisha Biswal as the assistant secretary today, we show the strength of that commitment."In previous months, that commitment was also shown in the nomination of Indian-Americans such as Sri Srinivasan (as a federal judge) and Preetinder Bharara (as a US prosecutor), to name just two.As we continued our conversation, the Indian diplomat said all this was a fantastic achievement for Indian-Americans. But what about India, I persisted, echoing reader feedback in the Times of India that constantly bashed the paper for reporting on the (over)achievements of Indian-Americans, with the argument that it hardly benefited or stood to India's credit, and Indian-Americans are Americans first and Indians next.The diplomat thought for a while, and said (I'm paraphrasing here) that on balance, it was also good for India. It was better to have Indian-Americans in critical positions than Americans who could be anti-India, he reasoned. Americans being anti-India could not be presumed, I countered; they may well be Indophiles with a soft corner for India. On the other hand, it is entirely possible that Indian-Americans taking critical decisions relating to India would not want to do anything that might be construed as being favourable to India. They might err on the side of caution.Since we agreed we were both operating on presumptions, we had a good laugh, and let the argument rest.Three weeks later, as the epic mishap involving diplomat Devyani Khobragade and the housekeeper Sangeeta Richard erupted, we are discovering that many of the dramatis personae in the episode are Indian-Americans or people of Indian origin (PIO) - from Biswal to Bharara to Uzra Zeya, the acting assistant secretary for democracy, human rights, and labor, who did a stint at the US embassy in Delhi some years back (and who is said to be one of the points of contact for Richard's family).More pertinently, Indian-American sympathy appears to lie largely with the narrative of the housekeeper. As Bharara himself asked in his unprecedented counter to the uproar in India, "One wonders why there is so much outrage about the alleged treatment of the Indian national accused of perpetrating these acts, but precious little outrage about the alleged treatment of the Indian victim and her spouse?"He need not have wondered. The answer to this dichotomy lies largely in the different value systems operating in the two countries, which alas has not been accurately codified to take care of the temporary transfer of what the MEA calls Indiabased domestic assistants (IBDA). Underpinning the sympathy for the housekeeper in the US, particularly among Indian-Americans, is the fact that many of them (or their parents) left their homeland for better prospects abroad, and were in effect economic refugees. America gave them the opportunity.So it stands to reason that their heart is with the housekeeper and her travails, never mind that strictly speaking, her A-3 visa status was dependent on her employer (the diplomat) and it did not allow her to emigrate.All, it seems, is fair in seeking greener pastures. There are many successful Indian-Americans who will tell you after few drinks about the time they were temporarily "out of status" - a euphemism for being illegal. In a country built on immigrant enterprise, this is not considered bad; rather a sign of derring-do - part of the great American Dream.There is another reason many Indian-Americans are unsympathetic to the Khobragade narrative (despite the fact her husband is an Indian-American). There are very few people of Indian-origin who have had a good experience dealing with Indian embassies and missions anywhere in the world, and nowhere is this more true than in the US, despite the untiring efforts of many ambassadors and diplomats. Somehow, inefficiency, ineptitude, sloth seem written into the Indian bureaucratic DNA, and several PIO/NRIs who have reacted viscerally against the diplomat's narrative, speak of how she deserves it because Indian officials are so awful, unprofessional etc.It's another matter that the American bureaucracy can be as dreadful. As someone pointed out, an Indian will jump through the hoops and wait for hours in front of the US embassy for a visa; but the same Indian, or Indian-American, will find a similar process at an Indian mission intolerable.For the Indian elites though, what Richard did is an act of betrayal and perfidy, although prima facie it is the diplomat who may have misrepresented facts (as have many diplomats) to circumvent terms New Delhi ought to have challenged in the first place (but hasn't for many decades).The housekeeper was on a dependent A-3 visa, stamped on an official Government of India passport. She was being paid above-par Indian wages, with her living expenses, accommodation, and healthcare covered. She was supposed to return to India at the end of the diplomat's term, and if she was unhappy, could have returned earlier - not decamp and "put her employer in prison with spurious charges".Spurious? Why not believe her version that she was overworked and underpaid? Many Indians find it hard to accept it and believe that. It's a socio-cultural mindblock. It all boils down to two countries, two narratives, two value systems.In fact, it is only with great reluctance that the Indian bureaucracy had agreed to mandatory American wages suggested by Washington for IBDAs. In the view of MEA/South Block, the US has no business to dictate the wages of temporary domestic workers seconded to transferable diplomats, and compliance by diplomats of this minimum wage was a mere formality.Like in Khobragade's case, IBDAs stay in-house with diplomats, and have all their food, housing, and medical expenses needs taken care of. Where is the need to meet the minimum wage standard, when in any case, monetizing these perks will add up to more? The American view is clear: the perks cannot be monetized. Foreign domestic workers, even those on temporary gigs with transferable diplomats, are subject to US laws and rights.It is another matter that these had never been imposed or highlighted. They existed in the books. Too bad the Indian diplomat took it lightly, despite two previous civil cases involving New York-based diplomats. It's another matter that now when the Government of India and MEA are applying the same yardstick with regards to the US embassy and its operations in New Delhi, Washington is wailing about retaliatory pettiness.This is where we go to the heart of the issue - of the issue of heart. Most Americans and Indians tend to look at the issues through their socio-cultural upbringing and ethos. In fact, even their vocabulary in discussing one of the principals is different.For Americans, Richard is a nanny or a housekeeper. For Indians, she is a servant, a help. The Indian narrative talks of how lucky she is to get a job that takes her to America on wages housekeepers in India can't dream of.She is supposed to be loyal to her master or mistress, no matter how hard her toil and how long her work hours. In fact, the Indian narrative speaks of how happy she was in her initial days and weeks (based on her letters) with the Khobragade household — at getting a separate room for herself and an iPad. It does not allow for a gradual deterioration in working conditions and hours, not to speak of a growing realization of her own rights under US law, something the American narrative recognizes and accepts.Beyond the letter and spirit of the law, there are fundamental differences in the socio-cultural ethos that define service relationships in US and India. One can do no better than illustrate this with a personal example of my own household where I'm Indian, my wife is American, and our daughter is Indian-American, and our lives swing between US and India.At our home in India, we have a full-time housekeeper, a kind, loyal, houseproud domestic help of many years who is as much part of our household as any member of the family. We pay her what is considered a decent monthly salary in India even though we are there, between us, for only 8-10 weeks in a year (effectively giving her a ten-month vacation when she gets full pay, but interspersed with sporadic visit from US-based friends who are encouraged to tip her generously when they stay at our home).It is a very Indian arrangement that involves no contract and no minimum wage or fixed hours. When we are in India, she is on call at all hours since she lives in the same house. She also gets perks that amount to far more than her wages and benefits that cannot even be quantified. We cover her children's education (two daughters in college), the family's medical care, phone bills, and other utilities, among other things. Like with many Indian families, there is monetary help on occasion of weddings and other festivals.Right in the middle of the Khobragade episode last week, I was on the phone for an hour, first with my family accountant, pleading with him to give a paid internship to the housekeeper's elder daughter (who has just finished her HR and accounting degree), then, after he agreed reluctantly to interview her, to tutor her on phone on how to approach the interview.I'm not suggesting for a moment that this is the norm in India; exploitation of domestic workers is all too real and stark and hardly needs reiteration. But there is a personalized, human element in the service relationship in India that is entirely missing in the US.In the US, we have a Hispanic housecleaner who bustles in once a week, bringing all the equipment and cleaning agents in an SUV, sometimes with an associate when she is pressed for time.I write her a cheque for $85 for three hours of cleaning every week. Beyond her name (Ruth Amores), I don't know her marital status, whether she has children, what they are studying, the state of her health or finances. Nothing. Zilch. Nada. There is no time to talk, much less commune. She has never invited me to her home or her children's birthday. It's an entirely impersonal relationship. Ditto with childcare nannies (up to $20 an hour), dog walker ($15 for half hour) and other such services.My wife has gradually discovered these differences between India and the US, mainly the personal touch, and has begun to accept and even appreciate it over time. Initially, she was shocked by the seeming servility of the Indian housekeeper, who seemed all too eager to please and was on call all the time.In fact, the housekeeper resented our taking over the kitchen to cook because she saw that as an insult to her skills, an intrusion into her domain. Was her "seva" not good enough, she would ask often. When she was asked to sit with us at the table one time, she shrank away in horror. Hilarity ensued when the wife made pasta one time and tried to teach her to use a fork. Another time when I suggested we enrol her in a driving school so she could learn driving, which would help us and also supplement her income, her jaw dropped.After some initial reserve, when she saw the memsahib infringe on her proprietorship of the home and the young master, she now calls my wife her 'akka' (sister). Her daughters now confide their deepest personal and academic/ professional hopes and desires with a woman who is more a mentor than a memsahib. The daughters have no hesitation in sitting at the table with us.Last time, the younger daughter asked me without hesitation for six thousand rupees for a field trip she had to go on — as if she were asking her elder brother or parent. I felt gratified. When we get ready to leave the India home to return to the US, the housekeeper's eyes are red-rimmed and swollen with silent weeping for hours leading to our departure. "Why can't you come back and live here? What will I do for the next six months?" she sniffs.Of course, it is entirely possible that should she - and certainly her daughters - come with us to the US, they will do a Richard i.e demand fair, locally weighted wages, and proper, limited, working hours. It is their right, and it is the law. In fact, the US laws would mandate that, regardless of all the frills and benefits we might provide.They might even develop a desire to peel away from us and emigrate in a country that provides them opportunities where they could be employing me in the next decade. That too is their right. The difference in the Richard case though was that the housekeeper was on an official Indian passport having surrendered her personal one to Devyani Khobragade.According to Bharara's indictment, Richard wanted to return to India and asked for her personal passport back when she found she was overworked and underpaid in violation of the contract she had signed to obtain the visa.According to the Indian side, she gamed the system right from the start with an intent to emigrate, went on the lam with an official Indian passport and tried to extract money from Khobragade. The diplomat was left with no alternative but to report the matter to NYPD and the State Department, and take legal recourse in India. Even then, according to the Indian side, US authorities initially promised to help trace her and deport her. It was only when Richard tapped into her family connection in the US embassy in New Delhi, where her in-laws had worked for a succession of Americans that the tone changed.But take note of the American narrative. There had been two previous cases of diplomat-housekeeper wage dispute from the same Indian consulate in NYC during three preceding years, both in the civil dispute domain. Now a third one in which the diplomat is using her clout and her father's influence in India to strong-arm the victim's family into silence and compliance. That too a family that has served American diplomats. Which buzz-cut, chest-puffing American official, much less a bleeding heart liberal diplomat at the helm, wouldn't help?That too, says the Indian side, they can understand. After all, there had been previous such disputes and spats, and a fair way to resolve it would be to alert the Indian side through the many channels available so that there could be a civil resolution.The Americans say they did alert (they cite only one warning letter in response to many Indian missives on the subject), but the Indians chose to ignore it. The Indians say they thought it was part of a continuing correspondence on the issue. Besides, the matter was already in the courts in India, legal action initiated by Khobragade that predated the US own move to go legal on the matter. The US view is that the Indian legal action was part of the move to intimidate the housekeeper and her family, for whom it was beyond their means to contest it meaningfully.The Indian view: the American action is tantamount to contempt for the Indian legal and judicial system — we are not a banana republic.And so it transpired that on the basis of the unusual influence of a loyal family that served US diplomats in New Delhi (the Indian government is very clear that the US would not have baled out any other housekeeper who did not wield such influence), a criminal case (instead of a civilian complaint that was the norm) was built against Khobragade in a perverse way, with the explicit idea of punishing her through a public arrest and incarceration.The architects of this plan were mainly the lower bureaucracy at the US embassy in New Delhi and the State Department (mainly officials of the Bureau of Diplomatic Security, whose New Delhi station chief has been sent packing as a retaliatory measure to Khobragade's withdrawal from New York).But what has also disappointed the Indian side is that as the higher levels of the US embassy and the State Department signed off on the arrest - either because they underestimated the pushback from the Indian government and its foreign service cadre or because they were so wrapped-up in the primacy of American law - forgot diplomatic niceties, conventions, protocol, and worse, simply didn't weigh the long-term consequences on bilateral ties, including America's own interests in India.Among the most provocative US actions during the nearly month-long fraught episode - besides the criminalization of a simple wage dispute, the barbaric treatment of a woman diplomat during arrest, and the use of human trafficking provisions to spirit away the housekeeper's family - was the dilly-dallying over the matter of diplomatic immunity. It is the very bedrock of our profession, said a senior Indian government source who reviewed the whole month-long spat; when you challenge that you are undermining the whole edifice of diplomacy.It is universally recognized that Americans are quick to seek immunity and privileges, but reluctant to grant it. That time has now ended. At least in India.