By Nalini Ranjan Mohanty
I must say I was surprised to see most leading television news channels virtually dismissing the news of George Fernandes’ death to the tickers.
Well, Fernandes could be described, virtually, as a yesteryear politician as he was bed-ridden, a victim at the same time of two debilitating diseases, Alzheimer’s and Parkinson’s. His condition was largely no different from what Atal Bihari Vajpayee went through in the last decade. He had also been far removed from the political hurly-burly as he too had lost his memory and the ability to recognise people.
But when Vajpayee died, one saw the way the TV channels closed out all other news to re-create the Vajpayee sage for almost 48 hours.
Well, there was a difference — Vajpayee was an ex-prime minister and external affairs minister and Fernandes was an ex-industry, railways and defence minister.
But then Fernandes’ political life was no less eventful than that of Vajpayee. As a firebrand trade union leader, he symbolised and inherited the anti-Congressism mantle of Ram Manohar Lohia. His exploits before, during and after the Emergency in the 1970s were part of the folklore (remember his famous photograph with his raised hands chained and he telling the court: “Chains I bear are the symbols of the entire nation.”).
Fernandes’ consistent anti-Congressism brought him to a close embrace with the BJP. Vajpayee made him the defence minister and the convener of the National Democratic Alliance.
But look at the man – his simplicity. He never put on airs despite whatever position he held. His house was always a refugee centre, anyone looking for a roof over the head could walk in.
As a defence minister, his 6, Krishna Menon Marg bungalow had never its gates closed, at a time when his ministerial colleagues were reinforcing the security cover at their official residences.
Unlike other leading politicians, he always travelled in the economy class. In fact, he invariably chose to sit in the last row to the consternation of his political colleagues, as Sharad Yadav has himself vouched in his obituary in the Indian Express.
Such a politician, a rarity these days, should have been remembered and his passing away mourned.
But the tragedy with the Indian media is that they are obsessed with the position that a passing politician held. Had Fernandes been the Prime Minister or the President, perhaps the television news would have gone overboard.
Some would say that he was afflicted by scams. But then the charges were made but nothing was proved. Coffin scam was just like Bofors scam or Rafale scam. Fernandes’ role was no different from that of Rajiv Gandhi in Bofors or Narendra Modi in Rafale.
I can understand the Congressmen, Gandhis and others, muted in their obituary of someone like Fernandes as he had fought and derided them all his life.
But what about Modis and Shahs and other party leaders who co-habited with the fire-brand leader for decades. As a matter of fact, when the BJP was an ‘untouchable’ party, Fernandes’ Samata Party gave it respectability by forging a coalition in Bihar and at the national level.
If Modis and Shahs can give a Bharat Ratna to a staunch, life-long devotee of the Gandhi family, what prevented them from bestowing the same honour on a leader who fought for the underdog all his life?
One could see Nitish Kumar shedding crocodile tears on his leader’s death; remember, the same Kumar, who became the chief minister of Bihar, with the strong support of Fernandes, betrayed the leader and denied him ticket to contest the election. That betrayal broke Fernandes for life.
What added to his trauma was the court order leaving him to the care (or, suffering, if you like) of his estranged and indifferent wife and a non-resident son rather than his long-time companion Jaya Jaitley.
Now that Fernandes is gone, a chapter of Indian history came to an end.
I had met Fernandes twice in my life. First was in May 1983, when I was in Tihar Jail, with hundreds of fellow students, due to an agitation in Jawaharlal Nehru University. Fernandes had come to the jail with bags of fruits for the students. As I was the President of JNU Students’ Union (JNUSU), I was called to the jail superintendent’s office where he was sitting. Fernandes was full of praise for JNU students for their courage to defy the authority of Indira Gandhi.
My second meeting was in the late 1990s when I was working with The Times of India, Patna. I happened to see him at the Delhi airport waiting to board a flight to Patna. I introduced myself to him and reminded him of the meeting in 1983 in Tihar Jail. He was so pleased to hear it that he said he would like to come home to meet my family.
Actually, in Patna airport, he sought me out and asked me to sit in his car and came to my home for a cup of tea. I tried to dissuade him saying that my flat was in the fourth floor and there was no lift. But he insisted that he could walk up the 10th floor. He spent about half an hour at my place with me and my wife and little son (as hundreds of party workers were waiting at the gate); that incident remains etched in my memory.
That spoke about a man whose example I would cherish all my life.
(Mohanty is a veteran journalist based in New Delhi)
