by Kuldip Nayar
In fact, what came to be known as the JP Movement was the people’s ventilation of pent-up anger against the dishonesty and insolence of public servants and ministers. The protest, which began as a gentle breeze soon developed into a storm. Indira Gandhi had come to embody corruption, not only in terms of money but in the deployment of power. She had humbled the old guard and had no compunction in employing any method to demolish whatever and whosoever she believed stood in her way.
JP was past seventy when he joined issue with her. A Gandhian in approach, he was resentful of the methods she used to govern. I had met him many times and admired his simplicity and the sense of values he evoked. I had often written against Indira Gandhi’s misrule, so he was aware of my dislike for her authoritarian governance when he called me one day in 1973 to inaugurate a meeting in Patna and lend my voice to those who had been silenced by the tyranny of her government.
The meeting was held in the heart of the city, the Senate Hall. Lalu Prasad Yadav, president of Patna University Students’ Union, was in the chair. Little did I realize then that I was part of a movement that would eventually unseat Indira Gandhi from power.
JP was overwhelmed by the public response because the hall was full, many even squatting outside on the road. I made a brief introductory speech, regretting the falling standards of integrity in public life. JP spoke at length and reminded people of the value system that India had followed during the freedom struggle and in the days of Nehru and Shastri. His emphasis was on a return to a values-based system, and he promised the audience that he would speak to them on the following day at Gandhi Maidan, a large open space, to spell out his programme.
I did not stay for the subsequent meeting which I learnt later attracted a large gathering of his supporters. However, before my departure JP gave me a recorded interview talking about his future plans. To my horror, however, there was nothing recorded because I had inadvertently switched the recorder to the silent mode. Therefore, whatever I could recall I reproduced in the Statesman story, as the first lead. He spelt out before me his programme which epitomized parivartan (change) in the country. He told me that he would go to the people and mobilize them to replace the Congress government headed by Indira Gandhi and provide an alternative with new people and a new party which he named Janata. Even so, at Gandhi Maidan he did not raise the demand for fresh elections but gave the public the slogan of parivartan.
With that determination, he went to Gujarat to lend support to the Students’ Nav Nirman agitation which led to the fall of the state government headed by Chimanbhai Patel of dubious reputation. Gujarat main shore hai, Chaman Bhai chor hai [There is a noise in Gujarat, brother Chaman is a thief]. It was a call against corruption in high places.
The success at Ahmedabad gave JP heart and he was surprised to find his support increasing well beyond his expectations. The demand gathered into a protest for the resignation of the prime minister who was assailed for her corrupt and autocratic rule. The basic departure in her approach was that the politics which since Independence had had a consensual element began bearing her personal domineering stamp. She, in fact, began going out of her way to rub her political opponent the wrong way.
JP founded the Yuva Chatra Sangh to bring students to the vanguard of his movement. They began protest marches in Patna against unemployment, corruption, and inflation. The scene appears so familiar in the present time. Old Gandhians and the socialists who were waiting in the wings jumped in to try to convert it into a mass movement.
I was unhappy in the Statesman. Irani had reduced me to the position of consulting editor from resident editor. He then wanted me to vacate my room as well, and asked me to sit somewhere else. Subsequently, he withdrew my peon and telephone too. What hurt me most was that a colleague and a friend, Nihal Singh, tried to effect the changes. It was in fact he who conveyed Irani’s decision to me. Nihal’s attitude exuded authority which was humiliating. I could understand Irani’s action but not those of Nihal who himself subsequently suffered at Irani’s hands and had to leave the Statesman. The only person who stood by me during those days was my secretary, G. Barret. She refused to work with Nihal and preferred to stay on with me. I was reduced to writing only my weekly column, ‘Between the Lines’. Irani tried to stop that too but did not succeed because the editor N.J. Nanporia refused to permit that.
In fact, my support to Nanporia when Irani wanted to get rid of him was the reason for Irani’s annoyance with me. There was a time when during a visit to Calcutta, the headquarters of the Statesman, he put me up at his house ‘to give a message to the staff’, as he explained. He hated journalists as a class, probably because he was not accepted by the fraternity even when he appointed himself as the Statesman’s editor-in-chief. Once he told Inder Kumar Gujral, then the information minister, that the government should tell him if it wanted the Statesman to take a particular line. Surprisingly, Irani was commended by the Bengal intelligentsia when he wrote a daily column ‘Caveat’. His vehement criticism of New Delhi was the only thing lapped up by Bengalis, who tend to be anti-Centre.
Ram Nath Goenka (RNG), owner of the Indian Express, knew all about the Statesman through Irani, who claimed to be his younger son, next to RNG’s own son, B.D. Goenka. One day RNG invited me to breakfast, famous for its idli-dosa, and offered me the job of editor of the Express News Service. Before I could react, he said he knew that I had been reduced to a zero in the Statesman. I joined the Indian Express in March 1975, even though I was aware that RNG was close to the Jana Sangh and had once won a Lok Sabha seat on their ticket. To his credit, he never tried to impose the Jana Sangh views on the paper and left it to us, journalists, to run it.
The protest against Indira Gandhi was gaining momentum. I was glad to be in the Express which openly supported JP and his movement. It was heavenly living in that atmosphere of defiance. To me it appeared as if one was back in the days of the national struggle, this time determined to usher in the dawn of economic independence which had eluded us after winning independence for our nation.
I was surprised when, within a couple of weeks of my joining, RNG asked me to write a story that Prime Minister Indira Gandhi proposed to suspend the constitution and lock up the opposition leaders, including JP. I could not get any confirmation and therefore did not do the story. This notwithstanding, I found the same story appearing on the front-page of Motherland, the official organ of the Jana Sangh.
I could never imagine that Nehru’s daughter would ever do something so autocratic even though she was on a warpath against JP. The demand for parivartan got translated into a demand for the resignation of Prime Minister Indira Gandhi, particularly because she had won the elections on a promise to eradicate poverty (garibi hatao) but had done little to reduce it.
This was also the time when I was collecting material for my book, India after Nehru (1975). When I met M.O. Mathai, Nehru’s personal secretary to get his inputs, he was willing to talk about days with Nehru provided I reported him accurately. I was surprised at this condition because I did not have a reputation for putting words into people’s mouth. Sensing my embarrassment, he said he would be saying ‘certain things’ which I might be reluctant to report. He volunteered to sign the transcript of the discussion we were to have.
My first question to him was: ‘Why were pandits summoned from Kashi and why was sandalwood used for Nehru’s cremation?’ ‘This was all Indira’s doing,’ said Mathai, ‘You can check with Vijayalakshmi Pandit who rang me to express her horror.’ Nehru, he said, was against all such practises and he had denounced them throughout his life. Still, according to Shraddha Mata, a godwoman, Nehru many times showed her his palm to learn what the line of fortune said about his future.
‘How would you assess Indira Gandhi?’ I asked him. Before saying anything he reminded me of my promise to include everything he said in my book and he was willing to sign my notes after every interview. I emphasized to him that as a journalist I had to check with the persons on whom he might
have commented or seek confirmation through some other source. Mathai did not want to continue with the interview until I promised I would use what he said. The second day when I rang him he hung up the telephone and refused to entertain any further calls from me.
A few days after this, when RNG was in Delhi, we discussed the Express. RNG also told me that he had employed Feroze Gandhi, a fearless Lok Sabha member and Indira Gandhi’s husband, at the instance of Jawaharlal Nehru. However, Indira was not very happy. Eventually, RNG said he had to ask Feroze Gandhi to leave. What he tried to convey was that there was some friction between Indira Gandhi and her husband. I cannot comment on this but I recall visiting the place overlooking Paris where Feroze proposed to her. It was a green landscape dotted with small tenements. I had never hitherto realized that Paris was so green. On the steps where I was watching the scenic beauty Feroze had offered Indira a ring which she put on her finger as a sign of consent. Although she lived with her father when she was in Delhi, Feroze would often visit Nehru’s residence.
I wondered whether I should pick up the thread with Mathai where I had left it off, but before I could decide on an interview with him, my book, The Judgement: An Inside story of the Emergency (1975–77), hit the market. The publishers of my book sent me Mathai’s manuscript of Years with Nehru and wanted me to advise them whether they should publish it or not. He had devoted nearly three pages to me, calling me all kinds of names because I had described him as Nehru’s aide in my book India After Nehru. He certainly occupied a higher position, whatever his designation. I had seen him talking to Pant, standing with his leg on the chair opposite Pant. I had called him Nehru’s aide in a general sense because he was much more than a special assistant.
I advised the publishers to print the book except the chapter ‘She’, where he had written about his escapades. I found the writing in poor taste. The publishers scrupulously followed my advice. Some days after the book was finally published, I found a cyclostyled copy of the chapter, ‘She’, on my table in the office. My peon was on leave. The one sitting in the veranda had no idea who had come to leave the papers in my room. I tried to find out from other peons but drew a blank. I rang up the publishers and gave them hell. They denied ever parting with the chapter which they claimed was with them in a locked almirah. I learnt subsequently that the cyclostyled chapter, had been circulated widely to the amusement of many.
After Indira Gandhi returned to power in 1980, two IB officials came one day to my cabin, inquiring who could have circulated the chapter. They wanted to know if I had anyone in mind. I told them the publishers had not done so. Then who did it? I had not the faintest idea. They did eventually locate the person.
I was not surprised when Mathai was denied the Congress seat in the Rajya Sabha from Kerala, his home state where he had settled. His name was on top of the list sent by State Congress Committee. One Congress leader told me that Indira Gandhi had herself crossed it out. When I asked why, he said: ‘Indira Gandhi was like the communists who forgave critics but not renegades.’
Coming back to the JP Movement, it was spreading like a wildfire because it was representing the people’s grievances against Indira Gandhi’s performance and misgovernance. Political parties in the Opposition were vying with one another to associate themselves with him. The communists remained distant. The CPI, together with the CPI(M), was part of Indira Gandhi’s entourage because of their ideological differences with JP.
The Rashtriya Swayamsewak Sangh (RSS) and its parivar, including the Jana Sangh, were keen to hitch their wagon to JP. They were not growing because they were wearing Hindutva on their sleeves, much to the distaste of the common man. However, as they just wanted a platform which could improve their image, they voluntarily threw their support behind JP. However, JP was cautious. The mass movement he was contemplating had no place for parties with a sectarian or communal outlook.
The RSS leaders assured JP that the Jana Sangh would have no contact with them and would integrate with any organization he founded. It was during this time that the question of dual membership arose. JP was insistent that the Jana Sangh members must break ties with the RSS. Both the RSS and the Jana Sangh leaders gave him an undertaking that once a new party was formed the Jana Sangh would merge with it, giving up its separate identity as well as its name. JP was impressed by their readiness to follow him without asking for anything in return.
This was JP’s greatest mistake. An emotional man as he was, he was led by his heart. The Jana Sangh wanted credibility by associating themselves with a secular movement in order to obliterate the stigma of Hindu communalism, and they have done well since. Till then they had never crossed the double-digit figure in the Lok Sabha. However, after associating themselves with the JP Movement they were able to win 80 seats when the elections were held in 1977.
Indira Gandhi was perturbed by the JP Movement and wanted to hold talks with him but he was reluctant to have any dialogue, aware that nothing would come out of it. A cabinet minister, D.P. Dhar, brought in S. Mulgaonkar, chief editor of the Indian Express, to persuade JP to meet Indira Gandhi. The meeting was a disaster. Indira Gandhi stuck to the stand that the Congress had no money in its coffers, the same point she had made when JP had met her earlier to complain that the Congress had spent nearly Rs 10 crores to get Nandini Satpati elected in a by-election to the Orissa assembly.
There were too many excesses committed by the security forces throughout the country. Even a small protest was suppressed with an iron hand. JP gave a call to the police and the army not to obey the illegal orders of the government: orders to detain people without any grounds or to harass people who opposed the government.
JP was trying to give a moral edge to the movement but it had little effect on Indira Gandhi. She accused him of instigating the police and the armed forces to rise in revolt. Many intellectuals were taken in by her interpretation. His defence was that he did not want the law and order machinery to obey orders which were illegal and unconstitutional. What he did not, however, realize was that the police and security forces had already crossed the Laksaman Rekha of law and morality. The governments at the Centre and in the states had converted them into a willing tool of tyranny.
The battle between JP and Indira Gandhi was now in the open. JP’s demand for parivartan became a battle-cry as the days passed. He published a weekly, Freeman, which was financed by the Indian Express to spread his message. Indira Gandhi became increasingly jittery, not only because of JP but also because she feared worse in the case before Allahabad High Court. Her fears were not unfounded.
Justice Jagmohan Lal Sinha debarred (12 June 1975) Indira Gandhi from occupying any electoral post for six years, holding her guilty of corrupt practices during the elections. He was pronouncing his judgement on the petition that Raj Narain, a socialist leader, had filed against Indira Gandhi’s election to the Lok Sabha in 1971.
The petition was allowed on two counts. The first was that she had used Yashpal Kapoor, officer on special duty in the prime minister’s secretariat, to ‘further her election prospects’. Sinha said that although Kapoor had begun electioneering for Indira Gandhi on 7 January 1971 and tendered his resignation only on 13 January, he had continued in government service until 25 January. Indira Gandhi, according to the judge, had ‘held herself out as candidate’ on 29 December 1970, the day she addressed a news conference in New Delhi and announced her decision to stand for election.
The second impropriety was that she had obtained the assistance of government officials in UP to build rostrums from which she addressed election rallies. The officials had also arranged for loudspeakers and electricity.
However strict the electoral law, I felt that the judgement was like using a hammer to kill a fly. Sinha gave her a fortnight to file an appeal against his judgement in the Supreme Court. Indira Gandhi had never expected such a verdict and therefore had designated no one to file an appeal against it. A local loyalist, V.N. Kher, a lawyer who was subsequently appointed chief
justice of India, submitted an application for appeal in a personal capacity.
The Supreme Court was on vacation and the judge for the period was Justice Krishna Iyer. In the judgement he pronounced, he allowed her to continue as prime minister till the disposal of her appeal but forfeited her right to vote in the House. I met Iyer soon after he had delivered the judgement to find out who had met him before he gave his verdict. He named S.A. Dange, a communist leader from Maharashtra and the then serving Supreme Court judge P.N. Bhagwati. The latter reportedly told Iyer: ‘Brother, you must consider all aspects before giving your judgement.’
Justice Krishna Iyer told me as recently as November 2009 that the people considered him responsible for the Emergency that Indira Gandhi imposed a few days after the judgement. What Justice Iyer said had a grain of truth and I told him so. I suspect that being a leftist in his leanings he had a soft corner for Indira Gandhi who was said to be left-of-centre. The Left generally supported her because of her nationalization of banks and insurance companies. Some responsibility for what happened during the Emergency rested on the shoulders of Justice Iyer because he gave her the stay.
When I met Justice Sinha at his residence in Allahabad many months after he had delivered the judgement, he told me how a Congress MP had tried to bribe him and how a colleague on the bench told him that he could be elevated to the Supreme Court if he gave the judgement in Indira Gandhi’s favour (the judge who said this to Justice J.L. Sinha had to resign when the Janata Dal government came to power after Indira Gandhi’s defeat in 1977). How to keep the judgement secret was Sinha’s predicament. He wrote the operative part by hand and sent his stenographer on leave. Even so, every government intelligence agency attempted a variety of stratagems to learn about the judgement. Even sadhus were used because Justice Sinha was said to be prone to their influence.