What is about the Delhi durbar that fascinates people so endlessly? The minutiae of its goings-on, the rising and dipping fortunes of insiders, the subtle changes in hierarchies are all grist to the durbari mill which buzzes all the time. Denizens constantly monitor the shifts in the Venn diagrams of power structures and then adjust themselves to new realities. No one likes to be an outsider — some fall by the wayside, others claw their way back in.
Of late a new trend has emerged — that of the insider turned outsider writing a book. In many ways, the tomes produced by Tavleen Singh (called Durbar so that there is no misunderstanding), Sanjaya Baru and now Natwar Singh are similar, since they provide an intimate look at the inner workings of high-level politics.
Two of these were civil servants (one of them a minister) so there is the added dimension of stories about decision-making at the highest level, but what binds them is their deep access into the corridors of power; not just government power but also the inscrutable behind-the-scene players who hold no office but can move and shake things. These writers have seen, at close quarters, politicians, businessmen, diplomats, heads of state, fixers, brokers and the other flotsam and jetsam that bobs around powerful people and they have many stories to tell. Whatever their motivations in writing about the durbar, it makes for fascinating reading to anyone interested in contemporary politics, which is why these books have done well even outside the hothouse that is Delhi.
Natwar Singh’s book has received enormous publicity even before it has been launched. It is the kind of advance coverage that publishers only dream of and which moves copies at a rapid pace — earlier ventures in the genre, despite being thick hardbacks, sold a phenomenal (by Indian standards) number of copies and Natwar Singh’s work is sure to do the same.
Though he would have written about his early life, his time in Cambridge, his years in the foreign service and his many friendships with men of letters (he has dined out for years on stories about his close association with E.M. Forster), it is the advanced publicity around the Nehru-Gandhi family and especially his forthright comments about his relationship with Sonia Gandhi that will lead to a spike in sales.
Going by his many interviews to television channels and newspapers, the following themes emerge — he was very close to Sonia and Rajiv Gandhi; he was let down by her after his name came up in the Volcker report on the Iraq food-for-oil scandal involving corruption amounting to millions of dollars; she dropped him unceremoniously and never gave him a chance to explain; and that she is a ruthless person.
Put it simply, it amounts to — “I am bitter and hurt because you did not take into my account years of loyalty to you and your family.” That sense of being wounded and humiliated has been obvious in his promotional appearances — in part it is to offer a tantalising glimpse into the kind of masala the reader will get, but one suspects he has also grabbed the opportunity to vent about Sonia Gandhi (though he is full of praise for the family). It shows up in that one telling remark that he has made over and over again — an Indian would not have behaved in this manner towards an elder; she did it because she is not really an Indian.
Never mind if she has lived in India for 50 years and her European origins did not matter to him when he was one of her closest advisers (as he lets us know repeatedly.)
It is a borderline racist remark and one that directly feeds into the prejudices purveyed by the saffron brigade. Is it just a coincidence that his son is now a BJP MLA and he himself had dropped by to see Narendra Modi in February to offer unsolicited advice on foreign policy?
Personal pique now takes on the hue of vengeance — after being the quintessential insider, who freely cracked jokes with Mrs Gandhi and had let it be known that he was more than just a Consigliere or courtier, Natwar Singh couldn’t digest being summarily dropped. It is not just that his name got associated with a massive financial scandal — that was not Mrs Gandhi’s doing but Paul Volcker’s — he could not come to terms that with the suddenness and brutality of the manner in which he was frozen out. The anger is understandable and the moral of the story is, Hell hath no fury like a discarded durbari.
The rest, as available in public so far, is really not very sensational. That Rahul Gandhi had given her an ultimatum not to take the Prime Minister’s post because he was afraid for her life is hardly earth-shattering news.
Mrs Gandhi’s excuse of being guided by her “inner voice” could well be seen as her own conclusion after cogitating over Rahul’s pleas and at worst a political spin. That she and Priyanka came to Natwar Singh is mildly interesting, provided it happened exactly how he says it. Her vetting of official files at her residence is something to dig deep into, but Mr Baru has said it earlier, (though one may ask, how would Natwar, who left UPA-1 after a year and something, know this)?
For us, the lay public, these books are valuable to the extent that they give a peep into a shadowy world of connections and cross-connections where important decisions often get made because of personal equations. The opacity surrounding our political system and our leaders needs to be discarded. The Gandhis are not the only political family that guards its privacy closely, but they get most of the flak. Undoubtedly more disgruntled Congressmen will now feel encouraged and emboldened to write their own memoirs, though there is a danger that they could be seen as treacherous.
Perhaps the best outcome of the publicity surrounding Natwar Singh is Mrs Gandhi’s decision to write her own book. If she offers her take on the durbaris, the hangers-on and the sycophants, it would be a book worth reading.
