Two recent deaths have been of such a nature that, despite the sharp difference in the degree of sensation they caused, both have resulted in a kind of rethinking of fundamentals. The impact of both have gone much beyond the confines of family, friends or immediate community, and created an atmosphere of introspective mourning. Jaipal Reddy and V G Siddhartha are not names you would ordinarily remark upon in the same breath, even if the obituaries came in quick succession.
One was a death from natural causes, a quiet exit, and the circumstances surrounding the other were as dramatic as they were morbid—the churning it has led to matching it in degree. And yet, the individuals— with a gap of roughly 17 years between them—have some surprising commonalities. Both broke out of the circumstances of their birth, triumphed over odds, tasted success, and in their last days dealt with failures in such a manner as to hold up a mirror to the times.
Jaipal Reddy, 77, and the younger Siddhartha represented different walks of life, milieus and initiation processes, but both dabbled in socialist thought in their early years, and displayed an engagement with the idea of public good throughout their careers, even if from contrary perspectives. Jaipal, of course, was a dyed-in-the-wool socialist, but he made his own dye! He did not quite cotton up to Ram Manohar Lohia, nor was he entirely a Nehruvian. His flexibility and openness allowed him to be in and out of the Congress—and not in a party-hopper’s disreputable way.
He began as a Congressman, and died as one, with years of anti-Congressism in between. He trod a long path, fighting Indira Gandhi from Medak after Emergency, becoming friends with NTR, to showing both talent and spine as the UPA’s Petroleum and Natural Gas Minister. But it was his solid, generative role from the second rung of the Janata pantheons of the V P Singh era and beyond—always one step below the leadership ambitions that marked that politics—that showcased his value.
When we speak of media today, let it be remembered that it was Jaipal who first imagined a more open, democratic, professional public broadcaster back in the 1980s, almost as a reaction to its stifling propagandist misuse during the Indira-Rajiv years. This was before satellite television, and only those old enough will remember the gust of fresh air Prasar Bharati was designed to bring. It was only later, during the UF, that it finally came to pass, but the world had changed anyway. A lot of those heady reforms of the UF days have since been undone, except perhaps the Pay Commission bit.
Just like Bengaluru and Chikkamagaluru are full of anecdotes about Siddhartha, Delhi and Hyderabad have endless Jaipal Reddy stories. Both, belying the VIP culture that prevailed around those who make it in politics or live in its vicinity, were extremely accessible. There was never a phone call Jaipal would not return, never a question he would be reluctant to answer. Of course, he had the savoir faire and that viciously punning Andhra wit to help him out of tricky situations. Sometime after 2014, when Sonia Gandhi called him to figure out the chances of a Congress revival in Telangana, he quipped, “We’ve revived Telangana!” Who can forget his ‘humongous’ intervention in the Lok Sabha, and the uproar that followed with a half-quizzical Vajpayee asking what it means, and Renuka Chowdhury standing and saying, “Look at me...I’m humonguous”!
Despite his ability to traverse a vast terrain with his intellect—he could, for instance, convincingly explain the difference between political donations and monetary funding of elections—Jaipal was a slightly bitter man in the latter part of his political career. He took the division of the state hard. Not because he was antipathetic to the idea of a separate Telangana, but at a socio-political and indeed human level, he was perturbed by how it tore apart an ethno-linguistic community, living as one people and largely speaking the same language. During a visit to his then ministerial bungalow in Lutyens Delhi at the height of the Telangana crisis, I remember he asked for books on the Partition, and told us how his trips to Hyderabad had become emotionally wrenching.
It is to that Hyderabad that he retired after the 2014 debacle of the Congress. He had pinned some hopes of a Congress comeback in the last Assembly polls, while admitting that some of KCR’s social sector schemes have worked, and it would not be a cakewalk. He was also rather critical of Asaduddin Oswaisi, and how the Congress had erred in leaving space for him, and how it has come to bite the party. A bipartisan voice, with friends across political divides, he never failed to give the correct picture. The only time he refused to speak was when he was ousted from the petroleum ministry, amidst a lot of buzz about corporate pressure.
The dots that connect Siddhartha to the people were of a different ilk—he was a facilitator. All the accounts coming into our pages from around Karnataka speak of a man who helped people but could not help himself beyond a point. There are more questions than answers in the end. Is the business model adopted in the breezy naughties, all that breathless diversification, inherently an anachronism in these times? Or is our tax regime really so debilitating? Is there a conflict between the ‘oriental’ way of doing business and the western model? Two deaths that have left enough for us to ponder over, and start accounting for what we have lost, perhaps forever.
Santwana Bhattacharya
Resident Editor, Karnataka
Email: santwana@newindianexpress.com