Checkmate! The master’s at play

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VISHWANATHAN ANAND

DECEMBER 11, 1969

Few sporting legends can contend with Vishwanathan Anand for the title of the greatest Indian sportsman ever. He may not enjoy the super-stardom of a Tendulkar or the reverence evoked by a Dhyan Chand, but he is the only Indian to have remained at the very top in a truly global sport for over a decade now.
In 1988, when Anand become a Grandmaster at 18, no Indian had ever earned the coveted title. Today, India has 15 GMs — and counting — and ranks in the top 20 among chessplaying nations. It’s an amazing transformation inspired and led by Anand. But his influence isn’t limited to chess. In many ways, the world No 1 chess player epitomises middleclass India’s arrival on the global stage. He plays all over the world, lives in Madrid — he and wife Aruna have learnt the salsa and their answering machine greets you in Spanish — but remains rooted in Indian values. He still craves for the rasam cooked by his mother and helps the underprivileged in Chennai as well as young players in the country.
Anand’s biggest message to the world of sport is simple: even the humble and gentle can be world-beaters. And how. In April this year, he became only the sixth player in history to lead the FIDE Elo chess ratings, he has been among the top three players in classical chess since 1997 and one of only four players to have achieved an Elo rating of over 2800. He was the FIDE world champion from 2000 to 2002.
Besides, he has won world rapid and blitz titles, numerous grand slams (Wijkaan Zee, Linares) and chess Oscars. The most gifted player after Bobby Fischer (for he excels in all formats of the game) has delivered when the onus was on him — in contrast, most of our other big sporting achievements crack under high pressure. There are still some unfinished moves on Anand’s chessboard. He aims to win the world title this September in Kramnik’s presence and also become the undisputed king of classical chess. And yes, win a medal for India in the chess Olympiad of 2008 in Dresden, Germany. “Chess is a very individual game,” says Anand. “It can spoil you. I don’t think I can ever work for a boss now.” No worries on that score, Grandmaster.

Don’t damn the people

MEDHA PATKAR

DECEMBER 1, 1954

When it rains in central India, there is one voice that drowns the sound of the swirling, raging waters of the Narmada. Of a woman, standing firm in the inundated villages, the water inching up her frail body menacingly. She is on yet another jal samadhi mission. Even the towering dams on the Narmada seem dwarfed.
And thus, Medha Patkar has ensured that India can never again remain unmoved by debates on dams, development and displacement. Over the past three decades, she has attracted some of the best brains and celebrities from urban India — from Arundhati Roy to Aamir Khan — to back a movement of thousands of peasants, women, tribals, the landless and marginalised to challenge the very logic of economic development.
She has become the focal point around which has spun a movement that has challenged the might of several state governments and the central government for almost two decades.
A post-graduate from the Tata Institute of Social Sciences, she gave up the life of an academic only to begin a furious mass movement, which later formalised into the Narmada Bachao Andolan (NBA). It began as a fight for information about the Narmada Valley Development Projects. And, over the years, it has continued as a fight for rehabilitation of the lakhs of people being left homeless by the Sardar Sarovar Dam and other large dams along the Narmada.
Over the years, the movement won a few battles and lost some critical ones. But, at the turn of the century, it has taught India its biggest lesson in economics: real development cannot be brought about at the cost of the poor.
Today, when the government still mulls over a ‘just’ rehabilitation policy, one is always reminded of Patkar’s role in bringing the issue to the centrestage of Indian politics. Her vociferous stand against big dams may even divide environmentalists into two camps. But, she has ensured that Nehru’s ‘temples of modern India’ cannot submerge the homes and voices of thousands just that easily.
She is remembered by the media and the intelligentsia for highlighting the larger debate, be it the Narmada or the Yangtze. But along the Narmada river, several thousand villagers remember her as the didi who ensured they get a roof over their heads, or a strip of seasonal river to carry out some farming on or a mafia-free pond to fish in. Urban India will always recollect her name passionately, tinged either with awe or rage but the farmers on India’s margins can only remember her with a degree of reverence.

Empire builder, equity guru DHIRUBHAI AMBANI DECEMBER 28, 1932 — JULY 6, 2002

Rags-to-riches stories are now cliché. Dhirubhai Ambani’s is among the most popular Indian ones, told and re-told with great felicity and flourish. The 16-year-old son of a school teacher goes to Aden and starts work at a petrol pump. He returns 10 years later and finds his way trading in textiles. Some smart work later, he takes over the market for imported polyester. Soon he builds a factory to manufacture it, manoeuvres his way deftly around the ‘Licence Raj’, and eventually builds a petrochemical and oil refining empire out of Reliance. It ends up as the first privately owned company to make its way to the list of Fortune 500 companies.
In doing all of this, Dhirubhai taught India two lessons alien to Indians:


• It’s alright to be rich:

Telling a nation that it’s alright to make money wasn’t easy at a time when Soviet-style socialism was the dominant theme. Dhirubhai started out telling people that in spite of coming out of nowhere, he could build something, and if they invested in his dream, the profits would be theirs to share. When Reliance debuted with its IPO in 1977, 58,000 Indians took the bait. He didn’t disappoint.


• Size matters:

He was the first Indian to truly understand the term ‘economies of scale’. At a time when government decided capacities for business, Dhirubhai thought otherwise. He outwitted the system and built capacities that were not based on reasonable projections of demand. When times were good, he had the bandwidth to meet demand. When times were bad, he had the economies of scale on his side — for instance, in 1997, when the markets were in crisis, Reliance’s profits grew 25% over the previous year. Either which way, Reliance gained. To that extent, the global ambition India Inc now harbours and the belligerence it exhibits, is Dhirubhai Ambani’s legacy.

Unreservedly, an Indian idol B R AMBEDKAR APRIL 14, 1891 — DECEMBER 6, 1956

It’s a tribute to the Congress that in a party bristling with lawyers and barristers, it chose someone from outside the organisation to head the drafting committee of the Indian Constitution in 1947. B R Ambedkar, of course, had all the necessary qualifications to guide the drafting of the Constitution of a country as populous and diverse as India. Born into an untouchable Mahar family, he went on to get a double doctorate from Columbia University and the University of London. Besides he was a barrister from Gray’s Inn.
Not surprisingly, Ambedkar drew inspiration from the American and British models to draft the Constitution. Though he argued for a wide range of civil liberties to be included in the Constitution, during the Constituent Assembly debates he convinced members that there had to be a system of reservation
for Dalits and tribals. If Ambedkar was instrumental in getting special privileges for scheduled castes and tribes inserted in the Constitution, he was active in raising Dalit consciousness outside Parliament.
Ambedkar resigned as law minister from the Nehru cabinet in 1951 following his strong objection to the draft of the Hindu Code Bill and formed the Scheduled Caste Federation. The party fared poorly in the 1952 elections with Ambedkar himself losing from Bombay. Just six weeks before his death, he registered his final protest against the caste system.
On October 15, 1956 Ambedkar, along with a few lakh followers, converted to Buddhism. Though some critics dismissed this as a gimmick, Ambedkar’s desire to make a statement by stepping outside the fold of Hinduism had a long history. His opening words at the Depressed Classes Conference in 1935 were: ‘‘I will not die a Hindu.’’ In the intervening years he toyed with several options before choosing Buddhism.
Ambedkar is one of those rare figures whose legacy far outstripped the influence he wielded during his lifetime. Statues of Ambedkar dressed in a suit with the Constitution in one hand dot the Indian countryside. He also remains an icon for Dalit groups, most notably the Bahujan Samaj Party.

He changed the face of our map POTTI SRIRAMULU MARCH 16, 1901 — DECEMBER 16, 1952

If Vallabhbhai Patel was largely responsible for the present boundaries of India, it was a former railway employee and Gandhian from Madras who was the catalyst for a redrawing of the map of India. On October 19, 1952 Potti Sriramulu began a fast in the heart of Madras city demanding that a separate state be carved out of Madras province for Telugu-speaking people.
Much before Independence, the Congress had understood that the British administrative units would not be practical in free India. Many provincial Congress committees were based on linguistic zones and not the administrative divisions of British India. Shortly after Independence, Mahatma Gandhi wrote that ‘‘government should hurry up with the reorganisation of linguistic provinces’’.
Nehru was, however, not convinced. In the aftermath of the Partition, he felt that any further division of India could undermine the stability of the country. In this Patel supported him. But the Congress’s position could not prevent the movements for linguistic autonomy from gathering momentum. Kannada, Marathi, Malayalam and Gujarati speakers were all demanding separate states. The Vishala Andhra movement by Telugu speakers was by far the most vigorous.
Nehru, who had felt the ire of Telugu protesters during the election campaign for the 1952 elections, told Parliament on May 22: ‘‘Even though the formation of linguistic provinces may be desirable in some cases, this would obviously be the wrong time.’’ It was in this backdrop that Sriramulu began his fast. When Nehru heard of Sriramulu’s fast, he decided to ignore it. After keeping off food for 56 days, Sriramulu died.
Immediately all hell broke loose. Large numbers took to the streets and many were injured or killed in police firing. Several legislators resigned their seats in protest. In December 1952, Nehru was forced to concede the protesters’ demands and announced the formation of a separate Andhra sate. This would lead to the setting up of the States Reorganisation Committee in 1953. On the basis of its report, 14 states and six union territories were created in 1956.
Sriramulu did not live to see the formation of Andhra Pradesh. He would have probably been stunned at how his fast transformed the geography of India.

Unifying states-man SARDAR VALLABHBHAI PATEL OCTOBER 31, 1875 — DECEMBER 15, 1950

Had it not been for Vallabhbhai Patel, the map of India might have looked quite different. In the days leading up to August 15, 1947, one of the crucial issues was how to integrate the 565-odd princely states into the Indian nation. Patel, along with his trusted aide V P Menon, set about this task with ruthless determination.
By Independence Day, most princely states had signed the Instrument of Accession. There were three notable holdouts and only one without a border with Pakistan: Hyderabad. The Nizam of Hyderabad wanted independence or accession to Pakistan. This was an unworkable demand.
In September 1948, Patel swung into action and convinced Nehru and governorgeneral C Rajagopalachari to take military action against the Nizam. Within days the Nizam was forced to surrender.
In Kashmir — the other princely state demanding independence — Patel’s hardnosed strategy was ignored. When Pakistan invaded Kashmir in 1948, Patel wanted to send in troops immediately. But he was kept at bay by Nehru and Mountbatten. Patel played a key role in the subsequent military operations in Kashmir. He was also bitterly opposed to Nehru’s suggestion to take the issue to the UN. Ironically, even Nehru would later come to regret this decision.
After Mahatma Gandhi’s death, Patel was the only one within the Congress who could outflank Nehru. A consummate backroom person, he often knew the pulse of the Congress rank and file much better than Nehru. During the jockeying over who would become India’s first president. Nehru backed Rajagopalachari while Patel’s man was Rajendra Prasad. Patel got the party cadre to propose Prasad’s name and it was Prasad who became the first president.
Nehru and Patel again clashed over the Congress presidency in 1951. Nehru was against the candidature of Purshottam Das Tandon, a conservative Hindu. But Tandon won with Patel’s support, prompting Nehru to declare he felt unwanted in the Congress. Patel, ever the loyal Congressman, patched up with Nehru. Indeed, he never let his differences with Nehru undercut the party. In the early years of Independence, when the Congress was virtually identified with India, this meant a great deal.

The man who saw tomorrow JAWAHARLAL NEHRU NOVEMBER 14, 1889 — MAY 27, 1964

To a majority of Indians, Nehru represents a vision. A vision of a democratic, progressive, secular and equitable India. It’s a vision that shaped modern India, and one whose legacy we continue to grapple with.
For some he is a demigod; for others he is responsible for everything that is wrong with India. But if there is one aspect of Nehru’s sprawling legacy that shines through it is his commitment to democracy. Most of the nationstates that emerged out of the debris of colonial empires quickly took the authoritarian route. India, which was thought to have among the worst chances of survival, was a rare exception. Not only did it survive, it did so as a thriving democracy. Nehru had a big hand in that unique achievement.
The Harrow- and Cambridge-educated Nehru was, however, not always comfortable with the idea of mass democracy. He once admitted in his classic, The Discovery of India, that he approached India as an alien critic. He also
despaired that Indian democracy would turn out to be a “preserve of those possessing thick skins and loud voices and accommodating consciences”. But that didn’t deflect from his faith in the people of India.
The other cardinal principle of Nehru’s philosophy was a belief in the centralised state and planning to overcome the intractable problems of a newly independent India. He felt that Soviet-style planning could not only chart a brave future for India but also deal with its myriad problems. This would form the blueprint for India’s industrialisation and result in the “temples of modern India” such as the Bhakra Nangal dam. It would also create a monster state that played God over common citizens but was dysfunctional in large swathes of the country.
It was Nehru who guided India to its tryst with destiny in 1947. By the time he died in 1964, shattered by the humiliating defeat to China, some of the Nehruvian ideals such as non-alignment were already losing their gloss. But his vision of a democratic India has long outlived his death and survived the test of time.