Mainstream Weekly

Home > Archives (2006 on) > 2008 > June 28, 2008 > A Perennial Void

Mainstream, Vol XLVI No 28

A Perennial Void

Monday 30 June 2008, by D. Bandyopadhyay

#socialtags

It is said that nature abhors vacuum. Perhaps it is so in case of natural phenomena. But in human society a void created by the passing away of a colossal figure remains unfilled for a long, long time. Nikhil Chakravartty, as he was known to all, was a titanic person, a celebrity in analytical journalism, whose replacement has not appeared even after a decade of his passing away.

It would be a very sketchy description to call him a “journalist” preceded by whatever adjective one would prefer to put. He created for himself the position of a great social and political mentor to all the foes and friends in the political arena of the Capital. Easily approachable for all and having easy access to the high and mighty in the political field, he was aware of all the points and counterpoints in the murky political cauldron of the Rajdhani. His advice and counsel was sought for, very often covertly, and sometimes overtly, on several intractable issues which the politicians of the day found a little too hot to handle. His sagacious advice helped solving many a complex problem. Thus he became a senior statesman without ever holding any high public office except for a very short period as the Chairman of the Prasar Bharati.

A pacifist to the core, his influence crossed the national boundary. He was a pioneer in the people-to-people interface between India and Pakistan. He had as many friends among the high-ups in Pakistan as in India.

One should not get any wrong idea that he was a man for all seasons for all men. He was a person of high principles. His views on society and politics were formed when he was a young student in the late thirties of the last century in England. It was the liberal, socialist and democratic ambience of the LSE under Harold Laski and subterranean Leftism of Oxford and Cambridge which shaped the minds and thoughts of a group of Indian students who constituted the ruling elite of independent India for nearly four-and-a-half decades. He was the doyen of that bright, young, elite intellectual group.

His iron first under a kid glove came out in sharp relief during the Emergency in the mid-seventies of the last century. His famous characterisation of Sanjay Gandhi as a spring- chicken did not endear him to Mrs Indira Gandhi and her cohort of sycophants. Mainstream came under official cloud. In fact the issue of the journal that coincided with the proclamation of the Emergency did not carry the Editor’s Notebook but an appropriate poem by Rabindranath Tagore on freedom with N.C.’s introduction in the following words:

Somewhere in the excitement of National Emergency, the editor has lost his notebook. However, Rabidranath Tagore has, in the abundance of his generosity, lent him his own notebook.

While this was widely appreciated by the readers of the publication, it became a standing embarrassment for the ruling establishment which exerted different kinds of pressures on him. But no amount of pressure or persuasion would make N.C. change his stance with regard to the Emergency regime. Eventually the paper had to cease publication for two-three weeks at the end of 1976 with the Editor making a prophetic observation: “As winter has come, spring cannot be far behind. And with the first sproutings of spring shall Mainstream reappear.” And it did indeed reappear with the lifting of the precen-sorship restrictions following the announcement of the parliamentary elections in early 1977.

I may add a personal note here. I was a member of a Study Group on Land Reforms of which late Dr Z.A. Ahmed, then an MP, was the Chairman. We visited Madhubani in Bihar where the mahant at Selibeli caused the death of 13 sharecroppers by police firing. I wrote a piece on it and showed it to Dr Ahmed at his New Delhi residence. Mr Chakravartty was with Dr Ahmed at that time. Dr Ahmed told him: “Nikhil, would you mind publishing it?” That was my first piece in Mainstream. Thirtyfour years later as the Chairman of the Bihar Land Reforms Commission I visited Selibeli for the second time. I wrote a piece, “Madhubani Revisited”, and N.C.’s son Sumit published it in Mainstream. I have a familial relationship with Mainstream since then.

Samuel Johnson wrote: “It matters not how a man dies, but how he lives.” N.C. lived a full life holding aloft the flame of liberty. We miss him even after a decade because “the world needs such men more than Heaven does.”

ISSN (Mainstream Online) : 2582-7316 | Privacy Policy|
Notice: Mainstream Weekly appears online only.