During much of the Cold War, India's foreign policy had a genuinely moral basis. The country was an ardent supporter of the decolonization process; consistently opposed South Africa's apartheid regime; argued for Palestinian self-determination long before the Madrid peace talks; and shunned Portugal until the end of the Salazar dictatorship. Closer to home, India was a vocal supporter of the pro-democracy movement in Burma and an ally of that country's last democratically elected leader, Aung San Suu Kyi. Despite the fulminations of Maoist China, and at some cost to itself, India also gave shelter to the Dalai Lama when he fled Tibet in 1959.

Admittedly, New Delhi's ethical record in foreign policy isn't flawless. India loudly condemned the botched Anglo-French attempt to wrest the Suez Canal back from Egypt in 1956 but muted its criticism of the Soviet invasion of Hungary the same year. In the 1970s, when it found itself at odds with the United States and fearful of an American-Chinese rapprochement, India turned to the Soviet Union for diplomatic support and military assistance. This dependence soon exacted a price: India felt compelled to accept publicly Moscow's rationale for its invasion of Afghanistan even as politicians privately expressed deep disenchantment with the occupation of that country.

Since the end of the Cold War, and despite the persistence of its moral rhetoric, India's foreign policy has found another lodestar: the unvarnished pursuit of self-interest. Nowhere has this departure been more evident than in its growing relationship with the military dictatorship in Burma. These ties reached their apogee this week with General Than Shwe's five-day state visit.

Bloomberg News

Gen. Than Shwe is received by Prime Minister Manmohan Singh.

Local commentators contend India can ill afford to continue its one-time policy of isolating Burma's ruling junta because of China's growing influence in the country. Beijing, which is at odds with India on a host of issues, has already established a substantial commercial, diplomatic and military presence that abuts India's northeastern frontiers. Additionally, India continues to face a range of insurgencies in the northeast. Many of these rebels find sanctuary in Burma. If India, so the argument runs, is finally to eliminate this threat, then Delhi must elicit the cooperation of the Burmese military to prevent the insurgents from fleeing to safety across the border. Finally, they argue that energy-starved India needs to be able to tap substantial resources within Burma and also access to land trading routes to South East Asia.

There is no gainsaying the significance of these arguments. However, those who support engagement with the dictatorship might consider at least three issues that may give them pause.

First, as a state that has long upheld, against almost insuperable odds, the principles of liberal democracy at home, can it really afford to entirely jettison them abroad? India's stature in global affairs is on the rise and the country legitimately hopes to secure a place for itself at the high table of international politics. Surely it cannot position itself as a moral exemplar if it chooses to so closely align itself with a brutally repressive regime on its borders?

Second, even if one were to set aside these moral and ethical considerations, is there any guarantee that India's courtship of this deeply unpopular and profoundly cruel regime will genuinely yield all that it seeks in commercial, security and diplomatic realms? Can a regime that treats its own population with such disdain and callousness really be counted upon to deliver on solemn international commitments?

Third, have Indian policy makers carefully assessed if the regime can indeed sustain itself in power indefinitely? What might happen if this dictatorship through a set of fortuitous circumstances were toppled? Would the Burmese people appreciate India's support for its repressive rulers?

George Orwell, who served as a British colonial administrator in Burma, once stated that intellectuals had a tendency to eternalize the present. One could easily replace the word "intellectuals" with "policy makers" and the wisdom of his words would still ring true today. Perhaps in their Machiavellian pursuit of parochial state interests, India's policy makers might pause for a moment and ponder this sage advice.

Mr. Ganguly holds the Rabindranath Tagore Chair in Indian Cultures and Civilizations at Indiana University at Bloomington.

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