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Krishna Kumar, whom I knew in the context of educational problems in India, came by together with the social activist who worked among tribals, Medha Patkar, whom I admired for her work and whom I was meeting for the first time. She stated that tribal communities living in the area affected by the Narmada project require rehabilitation each time their settlements are submerged when the height of the dam was raised. This troubled her. She spoke with clarity and directness; nor were her objectives vague or confused. Clearly, she knew the people she was speaking for and their concerns. She argued that this rehabilitation requires that the people affected be settled on appropriately elevated fertile land. Somehow a rational decision of this kind seems distant.
She was meeting me specifically to ask about archaeological sites that were being submerged without being recorded. The submergence could not be reversed but at least what was there could be properly recorded. This seemed a sensible idea to me and so necessary. We discussed the possibility of salvaging archaeological artefacts and structures in the areas that were to be submerged by the Narmada Dam and to file a public interest litigation demanding an exploration before submergence. A report had been made earlier but, predictably, what were recorded were temples built in the last couple of centuries. A fresh report by the archaeologist SB Ota indicated the archaeological potential of sites in the area that needed exploration before being inundated, but of course little was done about what the report suggested.
A couple of us organised a meeting with senior officers of the Archaeological Survey, other archaeologists, conservationists and environmentalists to see if we could make a plan for Salvage or Rescue Archaeology, as such a project is generally called. It turned into a discussion on monuments and went all over the place. We persisted in our attempts and drew in the Ministry of Environment as well. We suggested legislation for an Act of Parliament whereby sites likely to be built upon or submerged should first be explored by an archaeologist who would be required to present a statement within three months as to whether the site should be excavated. There were people who had done professional work in salvage archaeology. Two sites in Andhra Pradesh had benefited from Ramakrishna Sharma rescuing a few temples. The ASI itself had worked on the relocation of the buildings that were to be submerged at the site of Nagarjunakonda in Andhra Pradesh. In many places outside India, this is done on a regular basis.
I took the document on Salvage Archaeology to Prime Minister Inder Gujral, with whom I discussed it. He got the point immediately and understood that there were other places too that could be affected by submergence as also by extensive over-building on top of sites. He asked for the documents to be sent to the Home Ministry for an assessment. A couple of months later, the Home Ministry called a meeting of specialists who agreed that the matter needed to be given a legal form and to be considered for immediate action. The documents were then sent to the Archaeological Survey for finalisation.
And there the documents lay, where they seemed to be permanently under “active consideration”. Then I was told that the documents had been misplaced. I said that I could send another copy immediately, but it was said that that would not be necessary. So that was where the effort ended. If only we had had the older kind of officers in the ASI, such as A Ghosh and BK Thapar, the matter would have taken a different turn.
I cannot understand why, despite the constant reference to “our culture and our heritage” from every run-of-the-mill politician and administrator, this does not receive proper attention. Are we perhaps, fundamentally unconcerned with anything cultural in any serious way? Are cultural artefacts only useful to enhance income from tourism or promote a certain kind of politics?
There was another activity in which I had a fruitless dialogue with more than one Indian government. One night at 1 am, the doorbell rang and I was handed a letter. This smacked of high drama and I wondered what it was about. It was from the Minister of Information and Broadcasting inviting me to join the board of Prasar Bharati, which had just been formed in 1997 as an attempt of the state to protect the autonomy of public broadcasting. The person who was really needed on the board would have been my brother Romesh, and in a sense, I felt mine was a proxy appointment – so I was very hesitant to accept. But I was strongly advised to join it, the argument being that if one was attempting to make changes, then one had to get involved with the agencies of change. I accepted.
Romesh, just before he passed away, had worked out a PIL in consultation with AG Noorani who was to fight the case, demanding the autonomy of the media – television and radio – and it had been submitted to the Supreme Court. Romesh’s daughter Malvika and I had taken up the case after Romesh passed away. With the setting up of Prasar Bharati, the two of us and Noorani thought that the autonomy of the media would now be established and we withdrew the case. This was a mistake.
The press was critical of the persons appointed to the board and described us all as friends of Prime Minister Gujral. I was described as a leftist historian and card-indexed as such, with the added statement that the communist parties would be pleased! This just shows how little the average journalists really know, although they pretend to be omniscient. Another opinion from a person who had been in the foreign service and later joined the Congress party said, with some justification, that we were all too old and our ideas about the media were outdated. Ashok Mitra from Calcutta objected to all of us, describing us as people whom Indira Gandhi put out to grass. The press was sharp in its criticism before we had even started work. The immediate outcome of the announcement was a plethora of telephone calls, and I began to feel that it was too much to cope with.
We had our first meeting at Mandi House. On arrival, there was a show of the usual sycophancy with peons rushing to open car doors and junior officers carrying the briefcases of the seniors. The CEO was SS Gill, who talked at great length whenever he could. Nikhil Chakravarty was a polite chairman but not firm enough, so discussions sometimes became a meandering stream. Over lunch on the first day, Jaipal Reddy, Minister of Information and Broadcasting, was at pains to tell me how vehemently the BJP had opposed my name and how hard he had to fight to have me included. Saifuddin Soz confirmed the objection by the BJP but said that the fighting had been done by Gujral! All this certainly was enough of a hint that expectations on all sides were likely to be low.
Over the next few weeks, we had meetings to discuss the functioning of various existing TV channels. The regional centres complained of inadequately trained personnel who were generally non-cooperative, of poor quality and who had basic problems of little or no equipment and suchlike. A transfer to the Northeast was viewed by some of them as being sent to Siberia! Senior officers of Doordarshan explained how contracts were given for programmes under pressure from Members of Parliament belonging to the various political parties and those who had access to powerful politicians.
Slowly the mess began to surface as we started understanding the functioning of the channels. This kind of patronage continued to be exercised by political lobbies. Later the channels were appropriated by the corporates and suchlike, as they are now, but the presence of political pressure has not gone away; it just takes a different form and is more evident. The subservience of most channels is only too obvious. The autonomy of the media, which Prasar Bharati was meant to protect, was left undefended. Some channels were soon associated with whosoever had the money, the clout and the political connections. This institution, as was so with some others, also had people that I had privately labelled Homo tyrannous.
It was a frustrating two years for me in Prasar Bharati. Attempts to innovate and introduce new kinds of programmes were dismissed with the argument that they contradicted government rules and regulations. My intention had been for there to be a separate channel solely devoted to education. Other members – especially George Verghese, Abid Hussain, UR Rao and Rajendra Yadav – were supportive and helped in developing the idea. Programmes could be worked out for school students during the first half of the day, and for assisting school teachers to update their knowledge during the latter part of the day. We had a few intensive meetings with people in various fields of education and drew up a blueprint for the working of such a channel and shortlisted some themes for programmes.
I began to visualise an extensive educational outreach that would draw in students from a variety of backgrounds and the channel could be used for exploring new ways of spreading knowledge. But the administration of Prasar Bharati was not enthusiastic about such a channel and preferred hosting Ramanand Sagar and BR Chopra and telecasting serials. I was politically naive in thinking that what we were suggesting in the education channel would be acceptable to all. However, we went on working out aspects of an education channel. Suggestions for inducting people with alternate views were shot down as too controversial. At this point, the government changed and a BJP government came to power.
With this, Prasar Bharati came under the control of a quick turnover of ministers. Sushma Swaraj was followed by Pramod Mahajan. Then came the appointment of Arun Jaitley. Meanwhile an ordinance had been passed relating to Prasar Bharati by which the CEO was retired and changes were introduced. MV Kamath was made chairman, so we realised that innovative ideas would be even less acceptable. As board members, we tried to appeal against the ordinance but were met with a refusal.
Members of the board got on well. I was delighted to have opportunities to chat with George Verghese whom I admired as a journalist and had some fun conversations with his wife Jamila. Abid Hussain and I spoke of earlier times with his reiterating how much he missed Romesh. I was meeting Rajendra Yadav for the first time and we had long conversations about his journal Hamsa. He wanted to make it a platform for a range of writing in Hindi including that of Dalit authors, which was gaining visibility, and the arguments that came from this. I was less acquainted with Dalit writing, having only had conversations about it with S Anand, publisher of Navayana, but I was reading more of it and becoming familiar with the debates.
Having discussed the idea of a separate education channel with a large number of educationists over a few day-long meetings, we worked out a proposal and put it forward. After a few lengthy discussions with the ministry, we were eventually told that there were no funds for financing such a channel. However, there was no shortage of finance for starting a new full-time sports channel. We had insisted that an education channel, even if state-financed, must be autonomous in deciding its content. What we had momentarily forgotten was that a BJP government, with its ideological lifeline in the RSS, whose Shishu Mandir schools were the foundation of propagating its ideology, would not have conceded this autonomy. The RSS knows only too well that ideology can be effectively propagated through controlling the contents of education. The curt rejection of an education channel made it evident that Prasar Bharati was anything but an independent institution.
After some time came the next piece of news. The Press Trust of India rang me at midnight (yet again!) and said that the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting had announced that two members of the Prasar Bharati board had to be retired as per the rules. Not surprisingly the two were Rajendra Yadav and me – but why a midnight call?
I was rather relieved at the news because I now recognised that worthwhile proposals would predictably be stymied by the ministry. The next day I received a letter from the secretary to the ministry, stating that I had been retired. Just that! Our administrators, or some of them, do not observe courtesy in addressing citizens. The other members of the board all expressed their regrets at this decision and even more at the accompanying behaviour.
There was of course much speculation as to why Rajendra Yadav and I had been chosen for retirement. The Hindu rang me and asked if I would consider being interviewed by Hasan Saroor. The interview appeared on the front page and was judged by many as being sober and pointed. This was largely because I trusted Hasan Saroor, whom I regard as an intelligent and sensitive journalist, and was therefore quite frank about the working of Prasar Bharati and the decision to retire Rajendra Yadav and me. I mentioned that I had been told by a source in the ministry, that Arun Jaitley, the minister, had insisted on our having to retire because we were said to be Marxists. Jaitley in his reply to my interview in the press tried to deny this but eventually had to concede it. I began to wonder why those in authority seemed so frightened of Marxists!
I decided not to give any more interviews. I really had had enough of non-serious reactions from the government. We are a society that respects few individuals for their worth, nor are most of us ready to believe that a person can have individual, strong views that do not require him or her to be labelled as a member of this or that political party. Gradually, Prasar Bharati, unable to maintain the required autonomy, became something of a sad story and never evolved into what it was intended to be. Commercial interests were only concerned with enhancing their incomes. The media had to contend unsuccessfully with an authority anxious to axe autonomy.
Our suggestion for an education channel was intended to be a way of improving public education as well as supplementing school education, both of which needed maximum attention. That such a powerful agency as the media couldn’t be given a positive role in the improvement of society using education as a base seemed incredible. It was the failure of all of us who had hopes for the future, and the triumph of the kind of politics that were not conducive to social progress.
Excerpted with permission from Just Being: A Memoir, Romila Thapar, Seagull Books.
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