Man for every crisis

Indrani Bagchi

Civil servants, they say, never retire. That is probably true, partly because civil servants themselves like to hang on to the trappings of a government office long after they should have hung up their boots.

Not Naresh Chandra. As he turns 78 this week, this former cabinet secretary remains uniquely in demand. There is no government in India in the past two decades that has not called him out of retirement (“Again!” he grins, wryly) to solve a knotty governance problem that would ordinarily singe politicians. Take the latest __ the squeaky clean defence minister AK Antony in his enthusiasm to root out corruption in his ministry (and lord knows there are some fat cats there) has taken the machete to foreign military suppliers suspected of engaging in corrupt practices. Laudable, except for a small problem. India, as the world’s largest arms importer and with formidable security challenges is routinely blacklisting key suppliers, many of whom at leaders in their fields, others who are a monopoly, either in manufacturing or technology. Result: soon our defence procurement will short circuit because there might just be no one left!

A worried government called on the only hand trusted to steer everyone through this prickly maze. The Naresh Chandra task force on national security appropriately dealt with this problem __ in the peculiar way only Indians can. Its common sense really __ go after the person, not the whole organisation. But it needed to come from Chandra so the defence system can avoid being labelled corrupt or acting for vested interests.

Why do Indian establishments continue to rely on him? “I don’t think…” he begins self-deprecatingly. “It’s my experience. Also politicians think I can speak my mind, but know that I have no agenda. With this innate honesty, I can take risks, but in public interest.” Not too many civil servants can say that, even honest ones are terrified of vigilante CVCs and CAGs, not to speak of political bosses who can compel them to sign files that land them in jail.

Chandra is a rare species __ he has successfully walked that tightrope. In his private capacity, Chandra is on the board of a large number of companies __ Vedanta, Cairn India, Eros Films, Bajaj, and others __ but while he gives them the benefit of his vast knowledge and experience, “I refuse to lobby for them,” he says firmly, using the Hindi word “pairahvi” which doesn’t translate perfectly.

After he retired in 1992, and served as adviser to Prime Minister Narasimha Rao, Chandra was dragged out from his cushy governor’s post in Gujarat in 1996 to be sent off to Washington as India’s ambassador, taking over from the long-suffering Siddhartha Shankar Ray, in the middle of a rare pickle. A couple of NRIs had been picked up by the FBI for attempting to pay off American politicians and they had named an Indian official at the embassy. Chandra’s first words to his distraught staff were, “Go home. Tomorrow is another day.” His “solution” to the problem remains classified, but the memory is delightful enough to bring a ready chuckle and a twinkle.

Chandra will only admit it was “unorthodox”. Nevertheless, he counts Americans as among his best friends, and was one of the early foot soldiers of the transformed relationship between the estranged democracies, leading the first official delegation to the US to court investment into India when he was cabinet secretary. Asked about his biggest achievement in Washington, Chandra says, it was getting a statue of Mahatma Gandhi in front of the embassy building!!

Being posted to backward Jhunjhunu in Rajasthan as a young district magistrate, Chandra says, started him off in his love affair with governance. “My seniors were generous and welcoming, and many mistakes were forgiven. That, and a bit of luck, built up morale.”

What’s his IAS 1.0? He laughs. “The civil servant’s dharma is not to project himself but his ministry, and you can't do that until the minister is seen to be successful. The minister will be successful if activities are successful. The civil servant is responsible for that. Its only then that minister develops confidence.”

“Second,” he mused, “you cannot be part of a clique. The civil servant has to draw that line, because there is no wisdom in doing it. It's very tempting to cross that line. It’s much more important to pick up a job and do it well.” Sound advice and he makes it sound simple. But as anyone with a passing knowledge of government is aware, it’s enormously difficult in practice.

Chandra stuck to mainstream administration __ “we had loads of work, stuff that entire ministries do now, learnt a lot, and by accident a reputation began to be built.” In the home ministry, as deputy secretary, Chandra grappled with administrative reforms, especially at the district level. His 1967 report on public sector undertakings is now standard reference material in US universities. “I was laying down policies and rules for future generations.”

Sometimes he broke the rules. On a visit to Libya, Chandra found a joint venture project stuck. “I got it translated into Arabic, proposed amendments, had those translated into Arabic too, and presented them all to their minister. It would have been too difficult to wait for a “yes” from Delhi, so I went ahead.” The Libyans signed it and the project was through. Back in Delhi, Chandra was hauled over the coals for violating procedure, never mind that the amended agreement went in India’s favour. Another chuckle. “But I got a commending letter from the government.”

Now, he observes sadly, bureaucrats don’t feel so secure.

“I wrote the first export development plan for Sri Lanka, for Lalith Athulathmudali. He died, as did all my other friends __ Gamini Dissanayake, Premadasa…” The island neighbour holds a special place in his heart.

1991 __ Chandrashekhar’s government fell. Elections were months away. As cabinet secretary Naresh Chandra fulfilled the dream of every bureaucrat: he ran the country. The economy was tanking, politics in turmoil, and Rajiv Gandhi was assassinated. “That was a huge administrative exercise, because we were responsible for law and order. We kept the ship steady.” The steel frame showed steel.

End