The reported decision of the government to install a plaque as a memorial to India's first non-Congress prime minister, Morarji Desai, should be seen as an effort, if belated, to redress some unwarranted criticism he has received. Even President Pranab Mukherjee's book, The Dramatic Decade, has been less than objective on the Janata regime. His interpretations are based largely on accounts that were considered not much more than hearsay even when they were first published 35 years ago.
The momentous events that led to the formation of the first-ever non-Congress government at the centre and its subsequent fall are landmarks of our political history. They bear an uncanny resemblance to the recent presidential election politics of Sri Lanka. Then, as now, a rather motley political formation, nominally under a far from charismatic leader, trounced a supposedly confident, invincible leader.
One major difference between the two situations is noteworthy. Maithripala Sirisena, the new Sri Lankan president, was little known even in his own country until he chose to challenge Mahinda Rajapaksa two months ago. Morarji Desai, the Janata prime minister, was long known and regarded as a prime ministerial possibility. His image now is that of a faddist martinet consumed by his ambition. That is both unfortunate and incorrect.
Desai was a more than competent chief minister of Bombay, then the most progressive Indian state. As union finance minister, he steered the economy through a critical phase in the 1960s, boldly taking unpopular but necessary decisions such as controls on private gold holdings. He was an able, scrupulously clean administrator, a practitioner of good governance decades before the term gained currency.
He never hid the fact that he considered himself to be the natural successor to Jawaharlal Nehru, but did little to canvass support for the top job on Nehru's demise. Kuldip Nayar recalls in his autobiography that his report of hectic activity at the Desai residence even as preparations for Nehru's funeral were underway effectively sank any chance Desai may have had of being chosen the Congress leader in 1964. But that is factually incorrect. Reports of the Desai camp systematically contacting Congress MPs after Lal Bahadur Shastri's death in 1966 were equally untrue. When MPs sought his advice, all he said was that they should choose whoever they thought best suited for the job. He may have presumed that he was that person, but that was not to be.
Jayaprakash Narayan and Acharya J B Kripalani were authorised to talk to all the newly elected Janata Party MPs and recommend a name in the face of confusion about its leadership in 1977. There was, as expected, no consensus - but Desai had stayed completely aloof, even as his name made the rounds. The two elders did not particularly like him, but they liked others even less, especially the one who thought that he was the architect of the famous victory and deserved the job, Chaudhary Charan Singh. Narayan and Kripalani recommended Desai as the leader, with some obvious reluctance.
The irony is that when Desai wanted the top job twice before in 1964 and 1966, he was passed over - but he got it in 1977 when there was no election for it. He thus became prime minister not by design but by default. That was evident even on March 24, 1977, the day he was chosen the leader. At 8 pm, his residence was deserted and he was about to turn in for the night. Neither the prime minister's office nor the cabinet secretariat had made even the least arrangements for the swearing-in the following day!
Charan Singh sulked, and not for the first time in his career. He gave Desai a hand-written note on half a sheet of paper, stating that he did not wish to be considered for a ministerial position under the circumstances, when the latter went to see him at the Willingdon Hospital straight from Ramlila Maidan immediately after being nominated the prime minister-designate. Charan Singh was believed to have resigned many times in his stints in Uttar Pradesh governments. He always carried a short letter of resignation even after 1977. When the first major Janata government crisis erupted in June 1978, he simply handed that letter over to Desai.
The Janata Party as it existed in 1977-79 was a house divided. The glue of power was not strong enough to hold together its dramatis personae, many of whom had long held personal and political animosities against each other. When asked why he did not take quick action against his colleagues during his prime ministership as he would have normally done, Desai said that Indian history was replete with splits and divisions making it possible for outsiders to rule over us. He wished to unite the country and keep it strong. He chose thus to try and carry everyone along to the best of his ability.
Desai made little effort to save his government when it faced a vote of no-confidence in 1979. The Akalis offered support, and made relatively innocuous demands such as designating Amritsar an international airport and All India Radio carrying gurbani from Anandpur Sahib. Desai said it could be easily done, but he could not trade favours for their support. They eventually voted against the government. When Biju Patnaik repeatedly pleaded with him to make further concessions to Charan Singh, Desai replied that he had already given in too often. He was even unwilling to withdraw cases against Ramnath Goenka's enterprises instituted during the Emergency, as the evidence on file did not support such a decision.
B K Nehru, whose family ties and proximity to Jawaharlal Nehru need no repetition, writes of Desai in his autobiography 'as a stern, ascetic, humourless, opinionated man who was not open to argument.' But in reality, he saw Desai in a different light. Desai's sense of fair play, decency and personal probity laced with subtle humour saved many a situation through direct interaction.
Could a man of his undoubted abilities have been a more distinguished leader of his nation? History provides no clear answers to this complex question. Pragmatists such as Narasimha Rao and Lyndon Johnson succeeded in getting their agenda accepted, but were scorned by their own contemporaries for the compromises they had to make. Idealists remain in their splendid isolation, doomed to fail. No one thinks that Jayaprakash Narayan or Vinoba Bhave would have made good prime ministers despite their towering moral stature. Even Abraham Lincoln resorted to buying Congressmen to get the Emancipation Amendment passed, much like Yudhisthira equivocating to get Dronacharya. Philosopher-kings inhabit Plato's Republic, not Realpolitik.
The writer was joint secretary to Prime Minister Morarji Desai from 1977 to 1979. He had earlier worked with Desai between 1964 and 1969
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