If Pranab Mukherjee's book excerpts are to be taken at their face value, he appears as an apologist for the Emergency. But what is most galling is his attempt to exonerate Indira Gandhi for the imposition of this draconian measure
David Ben Gurion is a name that would probably not strike a chord of familiarity with the younger generation. Yet, there was a time in the late 1950s and the early 1960s when this Polish-born Israeli statesman was regarded as one of the most influential (and controversial) political figures in the world. He rose to become the first Prime Minister of Israel and played a very major role in international affairs for almost 15 years.
At the height of his popularity, he was interviewed by Richard Dimbleby, the doyen of British journalism. Dimbleby was clearly fascinated by this remarkable man’s deep insights and world vision and asked him to pen his memoirs so that not just the posterity but even his contemporaries could seek inspiration from his life. Ben Gurion was quite categorical in his response. He did not think it would be fair for him to even think of his memoirs while still in office, where he enjoyed an advantage of state immunity and insulation from any legal repurcussions that were likely to result from his disclosures.
When he retired in the early 1960s, he was again approached, this time by several publication houses. This time, his reasons for not obliging were somewhat different. He believed that many of the people who were likely to figure negatively because of his disclosures were no longer alive and he just did not feel right about ‘kicking their reputations’ when they were in no position to hit back.
Instead, he left his papers in a library for researchers to make their own assessments and draw their own conclusions. As simple as that! Again, it was in the 1960s, that I recall my father buying the initially-released two volumes of Anthony Eden’s memoirs for a princely sum of Rs60. I was intrigued by the recollections of the statesman who made a mark in international arena — positively as a Foreign Minister and negatively as the Prime Minister.
I distinctly remember the very first chapter in which he stated that he did have several records to set straight but could not do so while still in office, although many publishing houses were only too ready to dish out lucrative advances. Why am I adumbrating thisIJ It is primarily because of my unease over a recent development in our own country. President Pranab Mukherjee has published his memoirs. To the best of my knowledge, and I would stand corrected, this is the first occasion when a sitting President has published a memoir while still ensconced in the hallowed precincts of the Rashtrapati Bhavan. One former President, Rajendra Prasad, had published his autobiography in 1946, when India was yet to gain independence — and never revised it. All the others who published memoirs/autobiographies did so after retirement, when they had left the Rashtrapati Bhavan.
While the President is not the chief executive in India, he does enjoy a unique position. As the doyen of Indian journalism, Nikhil Chakravarti, always used to say: The main qualification for the office of the President here is that the people at large should feel good about the occupant of this office; after all, he remains the only person in the country entrusted to protect our Constitution. And there have been some truly remarkable figures who have made an indelible mark.
President APJ Abdul Kalam and President KR Narayanan have carved out an ecological niche for themselves. There have been others who have not lived up to the standards people expected from them. Some like Sarvepalli Radhakrishnan and Mr Kalam were also prolific authors.Yet all of them — even the author-Presidents and the ones who had to set the record straight — refrained from publishing their memoirs while in office. Mr Mukherjee was closely associated with Indira Gandhi during the infamous Emergency era. He was repeatedly summoned by the Shah Commission, and his refusal to extend cooperation had lead to a criminal prosecution which was withdrawn when Indira Gandhi came back to power.
It seems, that while the country was prepared to give him another chance by entrusting him with the country’s top position, he himself harboured a latent need to present an exculpatory front, possibly to make his case to historical researchers and those like myself, who regard Emergency as the darkest phase in independent India.
If the book excerpts are to be taken at face value, Mr Mukherjee appears as an apologist for the Emergency. But what I found most galling was his attempt to exonerate Indira Gandhi for the imposition on the spurious doctrine that she was unaware of this constitutional provision invoked. Instead, he goes on to implicate Siddhartha Shankar Ray for this constitutional blasphemy that was visited upon us.