A job seeker's lament

Through the Corridors of Power: An Insider's Story by P.C. Alexander; Harper Collins; pages 480, Rs.500.

For fifty years he listened at the door, And learnt some secrets and invented more.

CHARLES GREVILLE, of whom this was said, was Clerk of the Council from 1821 to 1859. He wrote three solid volumes of memoirs A Journal of the Reigns of King George IV and King William IV besides the letters he himself wrote. Precisely what are P.C. Alexander's credentials to write "an insider's story"? His career as a civil servant was not particularly distinguished. "I do admit that luck plays its vital role in everyone's life and I had perhaps a larger share of it than many others." A member of the Indian Administrative Service (IAS), he became Secretary in the Commerce Ministry in June 1975. When he accepted the job of adviser to the head of the United Nations International Trade Centre in Geneva he had "less than two years of service left." Luck favoured him. A two months' assignment stretched to a year and he became ITC's head. Dumb luck favoured him again. In May 1981 he became Principal Secretary to Prime Minister Indira Gandhi and served at the post for a mere three and a half years. He resigned on January 18, 1985 in the wake of the spy scandal.

The later career is nothing much to talk about - High Commissioner to United Kingdom (June 1985-February 1988), Governor of Tamil Nadu (February 1988-May 1990), and Governor of Maharashtra (January 1993-July 2002). In 2002, he became a member of the Rajya Sabha. These are not the credentials of an "insider" but they were intoxicating enough for one who found its true metier in the "corridors of power" once he headed the Prime Minister's Office.

Alexander's career was that of a civil servant but his aspirations have been those of an ambitious politician. Since 1981 he enjoyed proximity to the pinnacle of power and the influence and power it brought. Alexander kicked the ladder from which he had risen. The book reflects contempt for civil servants. This, however, does not deter him from repeatedly claiming "the impartiality" of a civil servant, even as he sought political office.

The very first para of his Preface reveals everything: "During my long public service career, spanning over five and a half decades, the most memorable and satisfying period was my tenure as Prime Minister Indira Gandhi's principal secretary. Even though she had not known me closely before I started working with her in 1981, I realised within a short period after joining the PMO that she was dealing with me as an individual whom she implicitly trusted. She had stated in unambiguous terms that she wanted me to get involved not only in government matters but also in political and party matters. In other words, she was keen that I handle all issues with which she was concerned. Since I had opted for retirement from the Indian Administrative Service a few years before I joined the PMO, I was not constrained by any service regulations in undertaking such a multifunctional role." (italics here in original, elsewhere added throughout).

In this, as in matters of this kind, Alexander is being disingenuous. He was Principal Secretary to the head of government, not her private secretary. His salary came from public funds. Public funds are not to be used to pay for assistance on "party matters."

It does not end there. Apparently, on quitting the PMO, he did not return the papers that came to him as a public servant. They are used in this book. The rule is accurately stated in the Prologue to the memoirs of B.K. Nehru, one of the most upright and distinguished civil servants whose career spanned over half a century: "No copy of any official paper may be maintained in the private possession of any individual." When he discovered its rampant breach in later years, he began "retaining copies of some of the important letters I wrote during my tenures as Governor." Another exception that he honestly admits "in breach of the law" was the acquisition through a successor of important letters and cables he had received and sent as Ambassador to the United States. They were, however, used for reference, not for reproduction in his memoirs (Nice Guys Finish Second; Viking, 1997).

Rajiv Gandhi retained Alexander as Principal Secretary on the same basis. After he tasted power, Alexander's disdain for the civil service became pronounced. Rajiv would not be "treating me merely as a civil servant" (page 8). After all, "I was closely associated with the decision-making process at the Prime Minister's level." K. Natwar Singh and Brajesh Mishra are both described as "two former bureaucrats who had neither the official authority nor the political standings to take such decisions on their own" (page 34): namely on the candidate for the presidential election in 2002. Natwar Singh, now External Affairs Minister, served as Minister of State in Rajiv's government (1984-89) and was Sonia Gandhi's representative in those parleys with Brajesh Mishra, National Security Adviser and Vajpayee's confidant and representative in the talks.

The job, Principal Secretary to Prime Minister, did not come to Alexander unsought. He bagged it with characteristic skill. He had no personal acquaintance with Indira Gandhi earlier, unlike other civil servants, Natwar Singh, for example. For one "committed to certain lofty values" - florid self-praise flows freely through the book - what on earth inspired him to write to her a letter of congratulations when she won the Lok Sabha elections in December 1979? He had begun telling all who cared to listen that the Janata Party government had "virtually thrown [him] out of my post." These, he knew, were strong credentials for a job with her.

As will be pointed out, fidelity to the record is not one of Alexander's strong points. The book reeks of spite and vengeance. That he was "thrown out" is an exaggeration. That he had incurred Prime Minister Morarji Desai's hostility may be readily accepted. On the crucial issue involved, Alexander was right and Morarji grossly unfair and improper. It concerned Morarji's interest in the grant of "a high value import licence" to the Chamanlal Group of firms. The facts narrated are convincing, especially in the light of a judicial finding on Morarji in respect of similar conduct. The details are set out in Chapter VIII on "import of polyester filament yarns" in the Report of Inquiry of Justice C.A. Vaidyalingam, a former Judge of the Supreme Court, on "the corruption charges against the family members" of Desai and Home Minister Charan Singh (pages 30-33). It concerned Fancy Corporation Ltd., of Bombay with which Hekubhai Kapadia was connected. "The Prime Minister specially mentions about [sic] this case" to the Commerce Minister. Indeed he "specially pleads for this conduct." The Judge held: "A prima facie is made out for this charge."

It is Alexander's embroidery that arouses suspicion. Cabinet Secretary Nirmal Mukherji stood by him: "I was asked to continue in my post as Secretary." This was neither the first nor last time an official incurred a Prime Minister's ire. He was not hounded out. The version that the Prime Minister accused Mukherji of "showing partiality to the fellow Christian" is hard to believe. Mukherji always praised Morarji: "a truthful man", he told the writer (an assessment I did not share). It is unlikely that he would have spoken thus as he always did, if the Prime Minister had cast such aspersions on him.

The arrest of B.B. Vohra, a highly respected Secretary, was disgraceful. Mukherji not only did not help but was niggardly even when restoration was ordered. Charan Singh personally apologised to Vohra. (His brother is N.N. Vohra, a distinguished civil servant.) But to assert that "the experience of many civil servants" during the Janata government "were as bad as they were during the Emergency, if not worse" is to assert a falsehood. The Shah Commission's Report cites details of how they were treated during the Emergency.

In Geneva, "I kept myself fully informed of the rapidly changing political scenario" in India "through a large network of senior civil servants." Note how he went about acquiring what he had set his sights on. "When I heard the news about Indira Gandhi's election victory I felt very happy and sent her a letter of congratulations and good wishes to which she replied on 10th December 1979, observing that she had heard of the circumstances that had forced me to opt for retirement from government service. She added that `it was a pity since the government is in dire need of honest and competent people like you'... I wrote to her again, congratulating her on her spectacular victory. Her reply [dated 13 February 1980] revealed how deeply worried she was about the grave law and order situation and the economic mess in the country she had inherited from the Janata Government."

Doubtless he had, through the same network, kept Indira Gandhi informed of his growing loyalty towards her. She sent a query through P. Shivshankar: would he agree to serve her as PS? His "close friend' Pupul Jayakar jumped into the fray: "She counselled me to the effect that a courtesy call on the Prime Minister by me, as an Indian heading a U.N. organisation, would be in order and, therefore, I should request an appointment on a suitable date and at a suitable time. Consequently, I wrote to the PMO, seeking an appointment on any one of the days I was to be in Delhi (from 9 to 15 November 1980)." He also sounded K.B. Lall. Further details are in the same vein.

This is how Alexander, who never did "seek political backing for reaching those positions," got them.

After Rajiv Gandhi's tragic assassination on May 21, 1991, "I found myself again in the thick of politics." Another benefactor came on the scene, P.V. Narasimha Rao, who became Prime Minister. "Ever since I became Indira Gandhi's principal secretary, I had maintained cordial relations with him and had always admired him as a great scholar and as one of the few towering intellectuals then in Indian politics." It is unfortunate that Narasimha Rao concealed his greatness as a scholar and intellectual so completely from the wide world and bared it only to his confidant.

Narasimha Rao set him to work as his go-between and Alexander went about the job enthusiastically. He told President R. Venkataraman on May 25, 1991 that "the Congress was irked by my call for a national government as it expected to sweep the polls." Venkataraman remarks: "Narasimha Rao had wisely called Dr. Alexander to help him during this period" (My Presidential Years; pages 342 and 352). Alexander met Narasimha Rao's rival Sharad Pawar, M.L. Fotedar, and many others. He was Narasimha Rao's Pramod Mahajan and thus acquired a claim to high office. It came his way soon enough.

C. Subramaniam, Governor of Maharashtra, resigned in January 1993 after making some uninhibited remarks that became public. Read this incredible bit: "At 8.30 p.m. on 7 January I saw a news item on TV in Bangalore mentioning that Subramaniam's resignation had been accepted by the President. I telephoned him to ascertain the veracity of the news item. He admitted that he had sent in his resignation but had not received any information so far about its acceptance by the President. I then informed him that according to the TV report, his resignation had been accepted. Within a few minutes of this conversation, I received the formal message that I had been appointed as the Governor of Maharashtra to replace Subramaniam." He was no intimate of CS. Why did he make this call? His immediate succession to CS did not embarrass him.

Impatience and avidity for advancement were as pronounced in 1993 as they were in 1980. These traits surfaced in unseemly fashion in 2002 when the tenancy of Rashtrapati Bhavan was denied to him. Whatever led Alexander to suspect that he was of Presidential timbre? Civil servants of far greater distinction, like H.M. Patel and B.K. Nehru, and secretaries to Prime Ministers, like L.K. Jha, P.N. Haksar, and P.N. Dhar, never entertained such fantasies. Alexander is not in the same league. More to the point, when did such delusions begin to possess him?

His bitter disappointment at being denied what, for some bizarre reason, he regarded as his entitlement, burst out. That bitter lament is the raison d'etre of this book and, as he is at pains to emphasise, the reason why it figures as its first Chapter. "There is such a thing as wanting to be President too badly," Adlai Stevenson said of Senator Estes Kefaurer in 1952. There is a track record of the Vice-President's elevation to the Presidency - S. Radhakrishnan, Zakir Husain, V.V. Giri, R. Venkataraman, Shankar Dayal Sharma and K.R. Narayanan. M. Hidayatullah was not considered for the elevation for reasons accepted by all.

In 2002, therefore, Krishan Kant, a former Congressman, backed by the Telugu Desam Party, National Democratic Alliance ally, was the obvious choice. He had blotted his copy book by his ruling on Ram Jethmalani's resignation speech in 2001 and was disgracefully partisan to the NDA. Jethmalani was denied the right to table documents that Arjun Singh exercised with the Chair's permission after his resignation in 1995. The Congress had reservations about him. The NDA was totally opposed to President Narayanan's candidature for a second term.

But by 2002 Alexander had blotted his copy book as well. He swore in the Sena-Bharatiya Janata Party Ministry at Shivaji Park in 1995, flouting precedent and his own loud claims to propriety. The Congress watched with dismay his growing rapport with its adversaries. Suffice it only to say that well before 2002, he was a political figure - one in the "thick of politics," as he admits. Precisely for this reason, Prime Minister V.P. Singh removed him as Governor of Tamil Nadu in January 1990. Alexander bore him a deep grudge.

Not given to introspection, he would not ask the question that would strike anyone at the outset. Why would a BJP that would not trust a Krishan Kant, whose ideology was not far removed from its own, place trust in a P.C. Alexander to serve as President in 2004 when Lok Sabha elections were due and the possibility of a hung House giving a certain discretion to the President was uppermost in everyone's mind? Why indeed did it trust him? Alexander protests his impartiality and insists that everyone else should shut his eyes to his record and accept him to be as pure as driven snow.

Central to his thesis are aspersions on both Natwar Singh and Brajesh Mishra. They had agreed on Krishan Kant. As at Agra (July 2001) and on Narendra Modi (March 2002), Advani & Co. reversed Vajpayee's cause. The reversal came in a couple of hours. Anyone who believes that the two representatives of their respective leaders were on a frolic of their own is capable of crediting anything. Alexander's imagination, set afire by an offer he had never dreamt of ever before in all his life, began railing in the press even from the Raj Bhavan against the duo, accusing them of conspiracy to blight the fortunes of a great man.

Contrast this with the big disappointment in B.K. Nehru's life. The post of Secretary-General of the U.N. seemed his for the asking. Even John F. Kennedy told him "it seems we would lose you." It would have added to Indira's prestige. But V.K. Krishna Menon exerted himself to block the candidature. All B.K. Nehru had to do was to pick up the phone and call Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. But he was too proud to do that; too proud and too decent to complain about it to the press either. The record is set out in his memoirs, in impeccable taste.

In any company at an evening, the size of the wine glass and quality of the wine that is served are the same for all. The civilised and cultivated begin to speak in livelier cheer; the cheap begin to growl; the coarse become profane. One's character is tested by dizzy success as well as bitter disappointment.

It is all to the good that Alexander wrote this book. We realise the debt we owe to those who stopped him in his tracks. Consider the record. His term as Governor of Maharashtra was to end on January 12, 1998: "The Shiv Sena-Bharatiya Janata Party (SS-BJP) leaders in the State conveyed to me their wish that I should stay on for one more term as Governor and that their respective party high commands would gladly offer me a second term if I would indicate my willingness to accept such an offer... . Within three weeks after the new NDA government was sworn in at the Centre, the Union Home Minister, L.K. Advani, telephoned me on April 11, 1998 offering a second term and expressing the hope that I would accept it. I did. I was sworn in again on April 21, 1998, thus becoming the first Governor of Maharashtra to have had the honour of being appointed for a second term."

It is not in the BJP's character to trust a Congressman unless he had performed a shuddhi.

He heard of Sonia Gandhi's dismay at all this and met her on September 23, 1998 to clear the air, citing Natwar Singh's criticisms. "She affirmed that she did not allow any individual or group to influence her opinion about me. Also, she was frank enough to admit that she had indeed felt unhappy when she heard about my acceptance of a second term as Governor. However, she reiterated two or three times in the course of our conversation that I should forget this episode of misunderstanding and should consider it as a matter of the past."

Already by mid-2001 "speculation started in the media, particularly in the Marathi press, which had always been extremely generous in its support for me, that I might well be under consideration for the presidentship. Several articles continued to appear in the Marathi newspapers describing my contributions as Governor in highly laudatory terms."

Now, read this: "Some time in the middle of 2001, I received information from a person who had been maintaining very close contact with the organisational wing of the BJP and the RSS [Rashtriya Swayamsewak Sangh, a pro-Hindu organisation] leadership, that my name was indeed under consideration as a probable candidate of the NDA for the post of President." The RSS is not famous for tolerance and charity either.

Alexander acted fast to secure Sonia Gandhi's support: "I met her at her New Delhi residence at 10.30 am on August 25, 2001 and informed her of the reports about the BJP and its NDA partners considering my name for the presidential election. I told her clearly that I had not been approached by anyone, nor had I ever mentioned my interest to anyone. I also made it very clear that I did not propose to meet any leader of the NDA or of the opposition parties at any time to seek support. I told her that I considered it my duty to inform her about what I had heard from others taking into account my close association with her late mother-in-law and husband and expressed the hope that if the NDA eventually decided to sponsor my name, I would have the backing of all the main opposition parties, particularly of the Congress." Neat work, or so he thought. The clever always delude themselves.

On November 30, 2001, the Vajpayee-Advani emissary, Pramod Mahajan, met Alexander to ask if he was indeed willing. "I pointed out to him that since I did not belong to any political party, I would very much appreciate if I was projected as a candidate of the NDA as well as of the main Opposition parties. I told him that I also did not anticipate any objection from the Congress party for my candidature if the NDA were to make a proposal to it, but I would not be able to canvass support from any political party." Did he disclose to his visitor that he had already canvassed support for his candidature from the Congress president only three months earlier, on August 25, 2001?

There was, undoubtedly, a fear in some minds that a Christian President might affect Sonia Gandhi's chances as Prime Minister. It would not have affected her for, as we know, she had already decided not to be Prime Minister.

Alexander has this curious comment to offer on the point: "No one in India had really considered Sonia Gandhi to be a Christian till the Congressmen themselves had brought forward the issue of her original religion. If some people had raised objections to Sonia becoming Prime Minister, it was never on the ground of the religion into which she was born, but was on the basis of her foreign origin or on the issue of her competence to hold such a position in a highly complex society like India. In fact, people in India had generally accepted her as a convert to Hinduism." This is self-evidently false. The Sangh Parivar consistently attacked Sonia Gandhi as a Christian and the Pope as well, in that context. Alexander is not above playing the religious card on his own behalf: "No one from the Christian community in India had ever been elected as president or vice-president, though others belonging to minority communities like Muslims, Sikhs and Dalits had occupied such positions."

Alexander's assertion that the Natwar-Brajesh understanding was a personal one is belied by his own narrative. George Fernandes was against Krishan Kant. Chandrababu Naidu was assured that there was an accord on Krishan Kant and felt let down by the NDA's volte face. On June 10, Alexander was told he was out. His disappointment was natural. Two days earlier, Vajpayee and others had "congratulated me warmly." One who discovers that news that he had won a lottery was wrong is sure to be upset. "Even though the Prime Minister thought that he had obtained Naidu's clearance on the phone for announcing my name, apparently there was a lack of proper communication and the NDA leaders found it impossible to convince Naidu of the correctness of their position."

This is the moment when Alexander threw aside his mask and revealed the man behind the frozen smile: "The NDA leaders had conveyed their decision to field me as a candidate as early as seven months ago. When they encountered the Congress Party's stubborn opposition to my candidature, I had naturally expected that they would tie up all loose ends with their principal allies well in advance and ensure that I could win the elections in spite of the hostility of the Congress leadership to my candidature. When the NDA, which controlled the government at the Centre, had conveyed its decision at the highest level that my name would be formally announced in a few hours time, I had no reason to doubt that I would have the necessary support for a clear win. However, Mahajan's message to me revealed that the last-minute support promised to Krishan Kant had created an altogether new situation beyond the control of the NDA leaders. What could I tell Mahajan except what any gentleman in that position would have said."

So there was an accord on Krishan Kant, and Natwar Singh and Brijesh Mishra, were not acting on their own after all. But who committed to fair play would prod adversaries of the party to which he owed everything to put him up as a candidate against it so that it bit the dust at the presidential poll? And what is the sense and implication of dividing the country in a bitter poll, as in 1969, damaging the authority and prestige of the highest office in the land? All this, of course, was to promote the personal ends of one Padinjarethalakal Cherian Alexander.

This trait, incredible claim to loftiness amidst gross lapses, emerges sharply in two other revealing paras. The first (at page 29) is a snide and cheap reference to President Narayanan's health: "It was well known to all who had been observing Narayanan's state of health during the past few months that he might not be in a position to function effectively as President for another period of five years if he were to win the election. For health reasons he had to cancel several public engagements. Even during the few unavoidable public engagements in which he had to participate, such as the opening of the joint session of Parliament, his poor physical condition had been clearly projected through live TV. Everyone expected that he himself would publicly declare that he would not run for the presidential election... ."

The other, on page 395, records his behaviour as a host towards a guest, V.P. Singh. Alexander demitted office as Governor of Tamil Nadu on May 23, 1990. "A few years later, when V.P. Singh was staying at the Raj Bhavan, Mumbai (when I was the Governor of Maharashtra), during his medical treatment, I asked him whether he had any regrets for having treated the Governors in the manner he did. I told him that `command resignations' taken from us through a letter from the president was not a dignified way of relieving a serving governor of his charge and that it surprised and distressed me as well that a person like him could resort to the unusual step of dismissing governors for no other reason that that they had been appointed by the previous regime. He was honest enough to admit that this had been a big mistake on his part. He said that, on looking back, he believed that he should never have acted in the way he did. I left the conversation at that, as I had no intention to embarrass a guest of mine at the Raj Bhavan" - after having embarrassed him enough. Yet he "was truly amazed" to discover that in 1991 Zail Singh had advised Chandrasekhar not to appoint him as Governor of Karnataka and "allow his resentment against me to fester for such a long time." The book reads like one sustained flow of bile.

FACTUAL misstatements betray Alexander completely. He enthusiastically defends C.P. Ramaswamy Iyer as a loyal Dewan of the Maharaja of Travancore who simply carried out his orders. No person of liberal impulse would do that. In his letter of resignation dated July 28, 1947, C.P. refused to serve "as a kind of secretary to HH" [the Maharaja] as he (C.P.) was "by temperament and training... autocratic and over decisive." C.P. destroyed the nationalistic Travancore National and Quilon Bank. "C.P.'s loyalty to the ruler and his mother was so high that he had taken good care to keep the palace out of any controversies and criticisms by himself owning up responsibility for all acts against the bank." On May 24, 1937, C.P. wrote to the ruler, "I am endeavouring discreetly to put spokes in their wheel" even by seeking help from the British-governed Imperial and Reserve Banks against this nationalist bank. Jinnah appeared for the Bank in the Bombay High Court and succeeded in thwarting moves for its liquidation there. The Madras High Court was also helpful. The courts in Travancore were not. C.P. Mathen, Mammen Mapillai, and K.V. Pillai were arrested.

C.P.'s clever recording of oral intimations to the ruler amply reveal the fact that he took the decision and recorded the obedient royal nod. He pressed C.P. Mathen to apologise but he refused to do so. Outside the State, the depositors got their money back in full. In the State, they got 13 annas out of every rupee (16 annas). The Advocate-General of India, Sir B.L. Mitter, opined that Mathen's conviction "was illegal and was secured by means, which by no decent standards can be called fair." Both Mammen Mapillai and C.P. Mathen rose in public esteem. Mathen became a Member of Parliament and Ambassador to Ethiopia.

If this episode does not fill Alexander with disgust, neither does the fraud of Indira's Emergency. He covers himself by the familiar device - criticise some abuses. The Allahabad High Court did not set aside her election to the Lok Sabha "on a technical charge of electoral law violation" but for conscious, deliberate commission of a "corrupt practice." She used the services of a government servant, Yashpal Kapoor, got him to resign to cover up the tracks, and lied on oath to the High Court on the date of his resignation. So did P.N. Haksar and Yashpal Kapoor (vide Prashant Bhushan's excellent book The Case that Shook India; Vikas, 1978).

Alexander laps up Indira's lie that it was not she but Home Minister G.B. Pant who sacked the EMS Ministry in Kerala in 1959 (page 192). But she said on July 26, 1959: "The Constitution is for the people, not the people for the Constitution and if the Constitution stands in the way of meeting the people's grievances in Kerala it should be changed." (The Statesman, July 27, 1959).

On June 25, 1975, this very outlook inspired Indira to make an assault on the democratic Constitution. More than one writer has refuted Alexander's versions of the Delhi riots. His account of the negotiations with the Akalis is a garbled one. Interestingly, he writes: "People started asking why she, who exhibited great courage and firmness in dealing with the Pakistanis during the 1971 Bangladesh war, was now showing weakness in dealing with terrorists." He alludes to the suspicion that the talks were a charade to cover up the decision to take military action. Significantly on May 7, 1984, Rajiv Gandhi said that "the Prime Minister, Mrs. Indira Gandhi, would soon deal with the Punjab problem" in a manner that "she knows much better than all of us." He recalled the Bangladesh war in 1971 and said "when the time was ripe she played her cards right and we got the answer that December" (The Times of India, May 8, 1984). A clear hint of a military operation decided in advance.

Alexander's attempt to pin the blame on what followed on the brave army received devastating justice from a brilliant dedicated soldier, Lt. Gen. K.S. Brar, himself a Sikh. It was reported by Karan Thapar in The Hindustan Times (September 26, 2004). Alexander is demonstrably, palpably wrong on all the points. "A siege was never possible," as Alexander imagines. The Army did not rush the operation, as he alleges. The intelligence "was never in the Army's hands. RAW and IB controlled the sources," Thapar reports. Baloney, retorts Brar. The soldier's expressive word is an accurate description of Alexander's tales.

He was sworn in as member of the Rajya Sabha on July 30, 2002. No one can recall a single memorable speech he has delivered since. Not for him the ideological commitments of Haksar, the economic concerns of Dhar, or B.K. Nehru's passion for the independence of the civil service. Alexander's book is all about himself - promotions, slights, snubs, revenge, hopes and bitter, bitter laments.