A devotee in the backroom

Azaad: An Autobiography

Author: Ghulam Nabi Azad

Publisher: Rupa

Pages: 309

Price: Rs 795

Ghulam Nabi Azad’s biography makes you wonder if the version of the life described by him would have been different had he not, on that fateful day in 2022, left the Congress and launched his own regional party.

If he had still been in the Congress, would he still have believed that “that a person belonging to a minority religion could not head the organisation”? “Even my friends and colleagues in the party would tell me that I would have been the best person to head the organisation had I not been a Muslim.”

Or that the party leadership was democratic so long as Mr Azad divined Indira Gandhi’s wish to have Rajiv Gandhi installed as party president (he believes he was the first person in the party in whom Indira confided after Sanjay’s death, that it was Rajiv she wanted as his brother’s successor)?

Election? What’s that?

Or that Sonia Gandhi’s installation as party president (which he claims he hastened by six months), was also democratic?

Some parts of his book are delightful: His recollections of his childhood in Kashmir amid apple orchards, his meeting with Mahatma Gandhi, his absorption of Gandhian ideas, especially self-governance (he was deeply influenced by AT Ariyaratne, the Sri Lankan Sarvodaya leader) and the influence Rajesh Khanna had on his sartorial choices. He joined the National Cadet Corps but the trousers that cadets had to wear were huge and baggy. The most popular hero in those days was Rajesh Khanna and he wore his trousers tight. So all the cadets decided to call a tailor and got the baggy trousers tightened. The instructor could punish one cadet — but he could hardly punish all. “We got away, feeling at least a little bit like Rajesh Khanna!” he writes.

Mr Azad’s political journey started in the Indian Youth Congress (IYC) that he joined in 1975. Two people who shaped his thinking and charted his future career: Sanjay Gandhi and Mufti Mohammad Sayeed.

The picture he paints of Sanjay Gandhi is quite different from the persona created by contemporaries, especially those who crossed swords with him. He writes that Sanjay had simple habits: He did not smoke or drink or even drink tea or coffee. “However, he liked Coca-Cola.” He used to wear plain white khadi kurta pyjama and “the older kurtas used to have rafoo (darning) at two or three places”. He spoke little. Azad is untouched by the Emergency and remarks breezily that “it is possible that some excesses might have happened during Emergency but they were conveniently placed at Indiraji and Sanjay’s doorstep, though they had nothing to do with it”.

He notes that Sanjay’s one fault was that he was a reckless driver and believes that this trait is what drove him to his death. He describes with elan his role in Indira Gandhi’s “dismembership” (it should be disbarring) from the Lok Sabha, her arrest and that of many Youth Congress supporters, himself included. Indira Gandhi did not forget his role when she returned to power and offered him a seat from Madhya Pradesh or Maharashtra after the Abdullahs vetoed Azad’s name from his own state. He chose Washim in Maharashtra. He never looked back, backing all the right horses — Rajiv, P V Narasimha Rao and Sonia Gandhi.

In his subsequent account, two notable events stand out: One, it was Sayeed, his political mentor, who double-crossed him and was the reason Mr Azad could not become chief minister of J&K in 2002. The proposal that the People’s Democratic Party (PDP) join the government came from Mr Azad. Manmohan Singh had almost brokered a two-and-a half year deal each for Sayeed and Mr Azad. But Sayeed reneged; that really hurt Mr Azad.

The other was the appointment of N D Tewari rather than Harish Rawat as Uttarakhand chief minister in 2002. Here, there is subtle criticism of Sonia Gandhi. Mr Rawat did all the hard work and the MLAs were with him. Mr Azad was the interlocutor and told Sonia Gandhi that Mr Rawat should be CM and she agreed. But Tewari pressured her and it was his name that was announced as CM. Similarly, in the tussle between Tarun Gogoi and Himanta Biswa Sarma for the  chief minister position of Assam in 2011, Sonia Gandhi supported Biswa Sarma, but it was Rahul who advised that he should be “let go”.

Mr Azad was bitterly opposed to the writing down of Article 370. He notes that his party was divided on the issue and the principal voice that pulled back was Jairam Ramesh. He also describes his contribution to managing the party and government during Narasimha Rao’s tenure. The most entertaining anecdote is the Babri Masjid demolition and the case of the missing home minister. The Opposition was asking for the PM’s resignation and as parliamentary affairs minister, it fell to him to offer a head that could be rolled. He consulted Rao and extracted a promise that Home Minister S B Chavan would resign. Rao would not break the news to Chavan and deputed Mr Azad to do so. But behind Mr Azad’s back, he warned Chavan that Mr Azad would be arriving bearing bad news. Chavan simply went underground and once again, it was Mr Azad who was left carrying the can in Parliament. Unaccountably, although Mr Azad played a big role in managing the rise of Rajiv Gandhi, he does not mention the Shah Bano case. There is fulsome praise for Narendra Modi, both as Gujarat chief minister and prime minister but no word on the Gujarat riots,  and other controversial issues.

For those who closely follow recent Indian politics, this book is important — as much for what it says as it is for what it doesn’t say.