Sudhir Mulji: A full and varied life

Sudhir Mulji

From running a successful business to arguing the relevance of Keynesian insights, he was intensely passionate

Sudhir Mulji passed away on July 15 in a hospital in England, his life cut prematurely short by an unexpected stroke. A few days before, he had been at Oxford to attend the functions awarding an honorary doctorate to his friend, Manmohan Singh.

There were many sides to Sudhir's multi-dimensional personality: a successful businessman who helped run Great Eastern Shipping for many years; a perennial student of economics who read widely, thought deeply and argued passionately; an "English country gentleman", with his estate in Wiltshire and married to the charming and ever gracious Rosaleen of the Guinness family; a provocative columnist for the Business Standard; a some time Fellow of Nuffield College, Oxford; a warm-hearted patriarch of an international family; an avid bridge player (and earlier an eager polo player); a bon vivant and gracious host; a one-time chairman of India's State Trading Corporation (STC); a persistent debater of public policy and ... very loyal and affectionate friend.

Some aspects of Sudhir's full and varied life are less well-known. After returning from Oxford (where he was tutored in economics at Christchurch by Roy Harrod) as a young graduate in 1960, Sudhir was picked as assistant editor by Sachin Chaudhuri, the founder-editor of the Economic and Political Weekly (then, just the Economic Weekly).

During his early Bombay years, Sudhir also served as secretary to the Maharashtra wing of the Swatantra party, a responsibility quite consistent with his liberal, market-friendly views.

Over time, Sudhir's involvement with Great Eastern increased as he rose up the management pyramid from manager (1962-70) to joint managing director (1974-79) to CEO of Great Eastern London (1980-85) and, finally, deputy chairman of the company from 1992 onwards.

The young Mulji couple moved from Bombay to Delhi in the early 1970s to 150 Malcha Marg in Chanakyapuri, which became not only the family residence for the expanding Mulji family but also a favourite haunt of many visiting economists, including Amartya Sen, I G Patel, Mrinal Datta-Chaudhuri,Vijay Joshi, Nick Stern, Deepak Lal, Jim Mirrlees and Ian Little, to name just a few.

Right from those years debate over economic ideas and policies became a staple fare at the Malcha Marg household and remained so for the next three decades. Sudhir's other interests evolved to include horses, trading and bridge.

He became quite renowned for his trading skills in ships, stocks, commodities and (when he operated from London) foreign exchange. Indeed, in 1986, the Rajiv Gandhi government appointed him chairman of STC.

But Sudhir's appetite and skills for futures trading in commodities far exceeded the Indian bureaucracy's stomach for such commercial enterprise and the experience ended unhappily.

Being a businessman in pre-liberalisation India was both enormously challenging and hugely exasperating. I recall Sudhir recounting one (of no doubt many) frustrating encounter he had with the "license-permit raj". He had gone to see a joint secretary in the finance ministry to secure approval (and foreign exchange release) for Great Eastern's purchase of a ship from a foreign owner.

Sudhir made out a compelling case for the wisdom of the purchase and sat back to await a favourable outcome. He was utterly stumped by the joint secretary's probing objection: "If it's such a good deal for you to buy the ship how come the other party wants to sell?"!

Sudhir did not always excel at everything he tried. But whatever he did, he pursued with enviable passion and persistence. Being left-handed is a major handicap in polo but that didn't damp the enthusiasm Sudhir brought to the field.

Although the quality of his bridge game did not always match his extensive perusal of books on the subject, his eagerness to play was undiminished. Above all (and not counting family) economics was his abiding love. Not the dry stuff of tables, charts and abstruse equations, but the big ideas, especially those of John Maynard Keynes.

If readers of this newspaper were only dimly aware of Keynes 10 years ago, thanks to Sudhir that is surely not the case today. Through his columns Sudhir brought Keynesian ideas alive for the Indian newspaper reader, regularly applying Keynesian insights to contemporary Indian economic problems.

Not just Keynes. The classical economists, like Adam Smith and David Ricardo, became household names for BS readers. You did not always agree with Sudhir's analysis but you were invariably provoked and educated by his columns.

In the last half-a-dozen years Sudhir's columns repeatedly advocated three policy nostrums for the Indian economy: lower interest rates, greater public spending (and damn the fiscal deficits!) and capital account convertibility. Mainstream economists (like me) found it difficult to reconcile the simultaneous advocacy of higher fiscal deficits and lower interest rates.

Sudhir would put this down to insufficient understanding of Keynesian analysis. Anyway, today's Planning Commission seems quite comfortable with Sudhir's advice. Besides, whether because of Sudhir's dogged advocacy or other factors, interest rates in India have come down significantly and investment and growth appear to be buoyant.

Even on capital account convertibility, the abundance of forex reserves has hastened some modest liberalisation. Sudhir's columns were typically written with verve and vigour. Like him they were forthright and pulled no punches. Which is what his readers appreciated. That and the frequent allusions to the history of ideas, which made his columns so unique.

Above all, Sudhir was a warm, big-hearted man who loved the company of family and friends. He was equally at ease with British corporate gentry, "traditional Gujju types", the polo set and, of course, economists of all hues. In discussions he could, at times, be quite aggressive and, on occasion, even rude.

But his great warmth, sincerity and directness always swamped such minor flaws. There was no way you could remain angry with him. Sudhir will be sorely missed not just by his family and varied circles of friends and colleagues, but also by readers of the Business Standard and everyone who ever engaged him in the play of ideas (and bridge and polo!). For all of us, 150 Malcha Marg will never be the same again.

The last time I was with Sudhir a few weeks ago, he talked about writing a book on Keynes. It would have been a good one. Pity we will never get to read it.