I first heard of Mani Shankar Aiyar sometime in 1990 when I was serving with Mr. I.K. Gujral, the Minister of External Affairs in V.P. Singh’s government. The Pakistan Foreign Minster had called on Mr. Gujral at South Block and they were reminiscing over old times when the conversation turned to Indian diplomats who had served in that country. Somehow, Mani’s (as he was known to both friends and foes alike) name cropped up (he had recently resigned from the IFS and had joined the Congress). The Pakistani Minister chuckled and said: “Oh, Mani! You know, your Excellency, that old adage about Mani being the root of all evil?” And thereby hangs the “maverick” tag!
Thereafter, I would occasionally read about him in the papers, as he made his way through politics like an IED, but never had the chance to meet him. And then, one day in 2023, he suddenly dropped in at my Mashobra cottage with Mrs. Aiyar and a friend. We spent a couple of very pleasant hours over coffee, leaving me with the impression that here was a man with an almost photographic memory of events, an acerbic sense of humour that could shred a reputation in no time with a few well chosen words, further blessed with the story telling powers of a master raconteur! And these three unusual traits are all too evident in this book. Which makes it eminently interesting and readable; Mani pulls no punches and takes no prisoners!
This is the second volume of his memoirs. It begins with his joining the Congress and winning his first Parliament election. He is a quick learner for someone handicapped with a career in bureaucracy, is eager to dive deep into his constituency’s problems, to ensure its development by taking initiatives in industrialisation, shrimp farming, food processing, setting up IT units, tourism promotion. He works hard, in the words of a friend does his best to turn “Mayiladuturai first into a Dubai and then a Hawaii” but loses his next election, acknowledging the wisdom of IK Gural’s advice to him: no MP ever wins a re-election on the basis of his “development work”, success is all about alliances, tie-ups, community profiles, etc. He is utterly honest about his failings and deficiencies as a freshly minted politician, but uses them, not as excuses, but as stepping stones to the Union cabinet subsequently.
Aiyar makes a fine distinction between striking a balance between being a “National MP” and a “Constituency MP”, and goes on to regale us with little known anecdotes in performing his duties as both- about the events leading up to the Babri masjid demolition, his Ram Rahim yatra to counter the “kar-sewaks”, the renaming of Connaught Place as Rajiv Chowk, the Harshad Mehta scam, the ENRON fiasco, the Verma Commission report on Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination, the upgrading of diplomatic relations with Israel (which the author considered as a “betrayal” of Palestine), the twists and turns leading up to Sonia Gandhi declining the Prime Ministership in 2004 (according to Aiyar, solely because of Rahul Gandhi’s opposition to it on the grounds of his mother’s safety). He is particularly acidic on someone I suspect he did not like- the then Prime Minster Narasimha Rao- but in his trademark acerbic and humorous style. About Rao’s now well established masterful inactivity in the days leading up to the demolition of the Babri Masjid, Aiyar’s tongue-in-cheek observation is: “Narasimha Rao has proved that death is not a necessary precondition for rigor mortis to set in.” And in case the reader does not get it, he goes on to add that : “Rao knew 18 languages but could not make up his mind in any of them!” The book is liberally peppered with similar mot justes (as we have come to expect from him) and it makes for delightful reading.
Of particular interest are little known vignettes: why Aiyar thinks Pranab Mukherjee should have been made the Prime Minister and Manmohan Singh the President in 2012; how the government mishandled the India Against Corruption agitation and the Baba Ramdev episode; the reasons for his expulsion from the Congress in 2017, something even his Party President was not aware of !; what compelled him to briefly join the Trinamool Congress but return to the GOP in quick order.
Appointed Cabinet Minister in UPA I, he was given the substantive portfolio of Panchayati Raj and the “temporary” charge of Petroleum and Natural Gas-which lasted for 20 months! Aiyar devotes a full 60 pages to the latter stint (a bit excessive in my view) but perhaps justified in his mind by the initiatives he took to secure India’s energy security through new explorations, creating an Asian alliance to counter the western stranglehold on petro-chemicals and striving to build the IPI (Iran-Pakistan-India) and MBI (Myanmar-Bangladesh-India) pipelines. He candidly admits that he failed, in large part because of stone-walling and turf-guarding by his own parent Ministry of External Affairs and the oil oligarchs of India.
Aiyar’s true love, however, is Panchayati Raj and it has been a life-long obsession with him and his mentor, Rajiv Gandhi. He was a votary of local self-governance even earlier, and was made the Minister of this new Department from 2004-2009: if it has taken constitutional and administrative shape today (however imperfect in practice) he must be given full credit for it. He pursued the idea vigorously, with the cabinet, other Ministries and state governments . The basic concept- making rural India the hub of the country’s growth ambitions- had also been the unrealised dream of Mahatma Gandhi: to coopt the village in the preparation, monitoring, prioritisation and funding of development plans. Extending this to the Fifth Schedule areas, where Naxalism had become embedded, the author feels, was the only way to solve the militancy: grass-roots democracy and local empowerment, not para-military guns, was the antidote to this continued violence. Regrettably, even though the PESA had been legislated in 1996, it was never allowed to function to its expected potential.
Aiyar candidly admits that here also he failed, since panchayti raj was “an area of little or no interest to anybody.” He reveals in some detail how, even though he had the Prime Minister’s support, he was opposed at every turn by Chief Ministers, the Home Ministry, the Finance Ministry, the Planning Commission under his old friend, Montek Singh Ahluwalia-all reluctant to share power and control of resources with village level institutions. In typical caustic humour, he has this to say of Montek: “the only Village Montek knew was the one in Lower Manhattan.”
He has an interesting take on why Panchayati Raj has not taken off in the country- the omission in the Constitution to embed local self-governance in the scheme of governance. This was primarily due to the opposition of Ambedkar who regarded villages as “a den of ignorance…leaving the Scheduled Castes in a state of…degradation, dishonour and ignominy.” The second problem is that it remained a state subject, ensuring that Rajiv Gandhi’s “passion died with him”. Aiyar is nothing if not brutal in his honesty.
Two more charges later (Sports and DONER), it was time for the next Parliament elections (2009), which Aiyar lost. This was the beginning of his political decline within his own party, hastened by the “chaiwallah” and “neech kisam ka aadmi” remarks about Modi. Politicians like nothing better than finding scapegoats for their failures, and who better than a Cambridge educated Brahmin with no base within his own party? With his Rajya Sabha term ending in March 2016, the Congress firmly turned his back on him, vindicating the prophetic words of Rajiv Gandhi to him in 1990: “This system will never accept you.” As he wryly admits, the family which had built his political career also ensured its end.
What engages me most about this book, however, is not just Mani Shankar the politician, but Mani Shankar the man. He towers head and shoulders above most of his political colleagues in sheer intellect, and has an ego to match. But he wears his heart on his sleeve and is brutally honest, almost to a fault. He cannot dissemble and is completely transparent: what you see is what you get, and if you don’t like what you see, you can lump it. Not that he gives a damn!
He comes out as a man of principles, strong beliefs and firm values, and is not ready to compromise on them: the Nehruvian ideals of socialism, the need to regulate a capitalist economy and not let it run amok, making villages the hub of economic development through an enlightened Panchayati Raj, treating Naxalism as a development/ resource exploitation issue and not as a law-and-order one, the imperatives of economic and social equity, the belief in Rajiv Gandhi’s vision of nuclear disarmament, the importance of engaging in a sustained dialogue with Pakistan, giving up the bullying attitude towards a neighbour like Nepal, the continued support for Palestine. Not only is he tenacious in holding on to his beliefs, but he is also not reticent in expressing them publicly, as when he opposed the holding of extravagant Games tamashas like Commonwealth Games or Asiad in Delhi (India should “become a sporting nation before it takes to being a sports-hosting nation”) and steadfastly opposed Kalmadi’s shenanigans within the CWG, much to the annoyance of the Congress leadership. This, according to Aiyar, was one factor which permanently alienated him from the Gandhi family. It is, I suppose, small consolation that, thanks to his rules-based stand on the CWG, he did not have to go to Tihar like Kalmadi did! Or that most of his apprehensions have come true.
Where the reader really gets to know the man, however, is in Chapters 14 and 15 (Musings and Reflections of a Long Life), in which Aiyar lets down his guard, takes off his gloves, and shares with us his innermost thoughts – about his upbringing, his family, his core convictions, the misgivings about the ugly changes taking place in Modi’s India, the role of character in shaping a man’s destiny, the paradoxes in his own character responsible for both his successes and failures, the regret that he could never gain the confidence and trust of Sonia and Rahul Gandhi. There is something poignant in these confessions of a man who has reflected deeply, felt intensely, believed tenaciously, and strived to maintain his intellectual integrity at all times. In today’s transactional India that is reason enough to wear the “Outsider” tag as a badge of honour.
| The author retired from the IAS in December 2010. A keen environmentalist and trekker he has published a book on high altitude trekking in the Himachal Himalayas: THE TRAILS LESS TRAVELLED.
His second book- SPECTRE OF CHOOR DHAR is a collection of short stories based in Himachal and was published in July 2019. His third book was released in August 2020: POLYTICKS, DEMOCKRAZY AND MUMBO JUMBO is a compilation of satirical and humorous articles on the state of our nation. His fourth book was published on 6th July 2021. Titled INDIA: THE WASTED YEARS , the book is a chronicle of missed opportunities in the last nine years. Shukla’s fifth book – THE DEPUTY COMMISSIONER’S DOG AND OTHER COLLEAGUES- was released on 12th September 2023. It portrays the lighter side of life in the IAS and in Himachal. He writes for various publications and websites on the environment, governance and social issues. He divides his time between Delhi and his cottage in a small village above Shimla. He blogs at http://avayshukla.blogspot.in/ |
