Admiring the Milkman

The book on V Kurien, famously known as India’s milkman — the father of the dairy revolution, is curated by his daughter Nirmala Kurien. It has eight sections with multiple people writing about the person, the values he stood for, his initiatives and achievements. Anybody who has come in direct or indirect contact with Kurien would have their own personal Kurien story — a story of wit, a story of an interesting one-liner and loaded with a message. Each one of these writers have a story, and even when the experience is somewhat obnoxious (such as Kurien pretending to sleep through a ceremony conferring a doctorate on him because the proceedings were in Swedish, and then trying to deliver his acceptance speech in English) it is given a positive spin. Nevertheless, the book highlights the contribution of Kurien in the context of growth of the dairy sector and the development of other institutions that benefited from his benevolence of time, guidance and talent. This book is a fine example of a hagiographic account of Kurien. Several of these stories are known to the people who were working in the ecosystem. Some of these aspects were also captured in his autobiography I Too Had a Dream.

In the birth centenary year of an iconic personality such as Kurien, could one have taken an alternative approach to look at his contribution and also do a balanced evaluation. Certainly, this is not a book to go to, if one were to understand the criticisms that were made regarding the programmes and how they were handled. From the book we get the kind of unifocal story that would have emerged had Kurien been alive — his side of the story, narrated by his admirers.

There is little doubt that Kurien made one of the most significant contributions to the Indian rural economy, which provided not only regular cash flows for poor and marginal families but also a sustainable source of income. It is also true that the impact of the work of Kurien was vast, immense and continues much beyond his exit from the organisations he managed and also much beyond his death. This is granted without any doubt. With some distance of time, however, it would have been possible to have a fairer evaluation of his contributions.

But we cannot accuse the book of inconsistency: Any possible failure or criticism is attributed to a conspiracy of people trying to sabotage the system or vested interests plotting sinister moves. The alternative model that was attempted by his successor — Amrita Patel — was seen as a watering down of ideology and a betrayal of what he stood for. The aftertaste of the bitterness on how his career ended is felt in multiple articles with all blame thrown on the outside. A large number of these admirers provide him with a wonderful Teflon coating.

There is little doubt that Kurien stood for the farmers and the poor; for integrity; discipline and punctuality and general orderliness. He was fearless, was willing to pick a fight with the bureaucracy or the political system; he was a great orator and had a good sense of aesthetics; he was a brilliant strategist who could anticipate hiccups; think long term; and deal with multiple interests with equal ease. He also demonstrated that embracing the markets need not necessarily create capital-centric solutions which polarised the holding of wealth, but could be more evenly spread out through collective ownership.

Having granted all these, was it possible to still look at some warts to have a more balanced evaluation? If the dairy movement was about the co-operative ideology with the National Dairy Development Board controlling a significant amount of purse strings during the operation flood programme, why was it that a large number of co-operatives outside of Gujarat did not have career CEOs nor could they determine the price of milk to be sold without state government’s approval? Was there a fetish made about the autonomy of the co-operatives or were those essential principles that defined the spirit of co-operatives given a go-by? 

As a public institution the National Dairy Development Board had initially specified no retirement age for the chairman; and was for a long time exempted from the audit of the Comptroller and Auditor General. The argument given in support of this exemption was that of autonomy — since the Board raised its own resources from multilaterals and was not dependent on the budgetary support of the State, its accountability framework was restricted to tabling its accounts and annual report in Parliament. It is also argued that it was able to achieve its spectacular results essentially because it was insulated from “petty” politicians of all hues. 

Possibly this is not the occasion to do an evaluative book. This is the time to celebrate the man, the icon. This is possibly the time to look at how one may need to be within the system, and work the system around for it to deliver. This is the time to count the milestones and phenomenal success of the great man and not look at the way he managed transitions. 

So as the year begins, with renewed focus on co-operation with no less than the powerful home minister holding the portfolio, it is a good time to look into the rear-view mirror and really feel good.  The book provides an occasion to do that. 

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The reviewer is faculty member, Centre for Public Policy, Indian Institute of Management, Bangalore (mssriram@pm.me)