At The Helm: A Memoir by V. Krishnamurthy; Collins Business; Price: Rs.599; Pages 305

Although Jawaharlal Nehru (1889-1964) — free India’s iconic first prime minister — dug deep foundations for the nation, which emerged from the crude vivisection of the country in the last year (1947) of almost three centuries of rampant loot and beggarisation, he made an egregious error in ignoring the region’s free enterprise tradition and entrepreneurial capability proven over several millennia, and taking the country down the socialist path.

Therefore despite newly independent India being endowed with several large and prospering private sector companies such as Tata Iron & Steel, Tata Airlines, Hindustan Motors and Hindustan Aviation, Scindia Shipping, Birla Jute, and DCM, which had grown in the teeth of often unfair competition during the British Raj, their development was suppressed by an elaborate web of licence-permit-quota regulations. The people’s savings were canalised into heavy industry public sector enterprises (PSEs) manufacturing steel, power equipment, fertilisers, and machine tools in a foolish quest for “self-reliance”, which completely ignored pioneer economist Adam Smith’s theory of international trade.

Yet if post-independence India’s PSEs haven’t collapsed in a heap, it’s because of a clutch of high-performing chief executives who in spite of having to manage huge, unwieldy corporations usually sited in backward areas because of political considerations, rose to the occasion and managed to pull them out of shallows and misery. Among the leading lights were V. Krishnamurthy, S.M. Patil (HMT), Air Marshal P.C. Lal (Indian Airlines), K. Appuswamy (Air India), and R.C. Bhargava (Maruti Udyog).

But the greatest of them all is undoubtedly V. Krishnamurthy, who laid the foundation for three hugely important PSEs which have not only survived in the post-1991 era of economic liberalisation and deregulation, but continue to make valuable contributions to the Indian economy viz Bharat Heavy Electricals Ltd, SAIL (formerly Steel Authority of India), and Maruti Udyog (now Maruti Suzuki Ltd).  Fortunately even if belatedly, the nonagenarian VK has penned his memoirs which present an insightful ringside view of how he succeeded against all odds in promoting and/or establishing these navratna PSEs.

Born into a prosperous Brahmin family in rural Tamil Nadu which lost its wealth during the Great Depression of the 1930s and was forced to migrate to Madras (now Chennai), Krishnamurthy didn’t get a great education, graduating with a diploma in electrical engineering from the city’s CNT Technical Institute in 1943. VK began his career as a temporary technician in charge of electrical installations at two airfields during the Second World War and after the war, landed a job in the electrical department of the Madras Presidency.

From these modest beginnings, how he rose to engineer the growth and development of India’s most respected public sector companies, serve as secretary to the government of India and later revolutionise India’s sputtering automobile industry, is well chronicled in this engaging autobiography.  

VK’s first break came in 1960, when after a two year stint with the Planning Commission, he was posted to Bhopal as officer on special duty of Heavy Electricals (India) “into the excitement of being involved in the building of indigenous power equipment manufacturing plants”. Soon he rose to the position of executive chairman of BHEL which was merged with Heavy Electricals in 1972, built a corporate culture in the public sector company, innovated the practice of PSEs signing MoUs with government to limit political interference, and won the company its first contract overseas. These achievements established VK’s reputation as India’s top public sector manager.

Although in the popular imagination VK is perceived as a Nehru-Gandhi dynasty favourite, his management capabilities impressed politicians across the board. In 1977 after the Congress party was routed in the post-Emergency general election, Krishnamurthy was inducted into government and appointed secretary, heavy industries. Indeed when the Congress party was returned to power at the Centre in 1980, VK lost his job when he differed with industry minister Charanjit Chanana, “considered close to Sanjay Gandhi”.

But quite obviously, with his stellar track record in the Planning Commission, BHEL and three-year stint in the heavy industries ministry, VK was too valuable to lose. Therefore in 1980, when Mrs. Gandhi asked him to take charge of Maruti Udyog Ltd (MUL) — a failed company promoted by her tempestuous son Sanjay who died in an air-crash in 1980, and which had been nationalised after Sanjay’s death to “ensure that her son’s dream of making a people’s car was fulfilled” — he reluctantly accepted.

The rest is history. VK’s meticulous planning and finally producing the people’s car not only “changed motoring forever in India” but also the fortunes of Suzuki Motor Co, with the privatised and renamed Maruti Suzuki India Ltd emerging as a major exporter of automobiles.

In 1985 when he was still chairman of MUL, the newly elected prime minister Rajiv Gandhi persuaded Krishnamurthy to take charge of the public sector behemoth — Steel Authority of India Ltd (SAIL) — which was incurring a loss of almost Rs. 1 crore per day. True to form, VK thoroughly revamped SAIL by drawing up and implementing a Rs.15,000 crore modernisation plan, and in 1988-89 the company chalked up a profit of Rs.302 crore. “When steel was finally decontrolled in 1992, SAIL was far better prepared for competititon than Tata Steel as a result of this modernisation of mind and machine,” writes Krishnamurthy, with justifiable satisfaction. 

Inevitably given India’s envious crab culture in which success is often regarded as the worst crime, VK’s life hasn’t been all smooth sailing. After completing his term in SAIL, this highly acclaimed PSE star was charged with corruption and jailed in a CBI flat for three weeks before he obtained bail and was finally cleared by the courts after a seven-year legal battle. Krishnamurthy details the charges and his defence in a chapter ironically and without rancour titled ‘A life well spent’.

Now for all intents and purposes retired and in the winter of his eventful life (he was conferred the Padma Vibhushan by the Union government in 2007 and the Grand Cordon of the Order of the Rising Sun by Japan’s Emperor Hirohito in 2009), VK looks back with satisfaction. “As I look back on my life and career, I cannot but help feel that it has been a life well spent,” writes Krishnamurthy.

In a foreword to this readable memoir, management guru Dr. Mrityunjaya Athreya in a fitting tribute to VK says that if he had chosen to work globally, he would have matched, if not exceeded the world’s great CEOs such as Jack Welch of GE, Percy Barnevik of AB, Akio Morita of Sony and others at that level.

In previous avatars as editor of India’s first two business magazines, your reviewer wrote several detailed cover features on BHEL, Maruti Udyog and SAIL, and interviewed and interacted with Krishnamurthy on several occasions. I agree entirely.

Dilip Thakore

Enduring message

The Animals’ Lawsuit Against Humanity by Rabbi Anson Laytner & Rabbi Dan Bridge; FONS VITAE, USA; Price: Rs.1,077; Pages 155

It’s difficult to imagine a group comprising Hindus, Buddhists, Jews, Muslims and Christians from widely divergent geographies collaborating on a joint project for global goodness. But this actually happened, around a thousand years ago, leading to the production of this volume of great spiritual and literary merit.

Reportedly an ancient Indian tale — possibly of Hindu or Buddhist origin — this amazing story was translated into Arabic circa 1100 AD by the Ikhwan us-Safa (‘The Brethren of Purity’), a Muslim brotherhood centred around Basra, in present-day Iraq. It was included in the brotherhood’s 52 epistles (rasa’il) which provided insights into the meaning and mysteries of life. Later, in the early 14th century, Letter of the Animals was adapted and translated into Hebrew by a Jewish rabbi at the request of Charles, the Christian ruler of Anjou, France.

This first English version of the story, translated and adapted by two Jewish rabbis, edited by a Christian and beautifully illustrated by a Muslim woman, is a work of great love of animals and a lamentation of their treatment by human beings (the subject matter of their ‘lawsuit’), as well as love of humanity, transcending narrow boundaries of creed. Simultaneously, it’s a powerful appeal for ecological sensitivity, religious harmony and cohesive living.

The role of people of different faiths and ethnicities in the production and popularisation of this book, testifies to the openness and willingness of enlightened medieval scholars and mystics to learn from diverse cultures and religious traditions. These scholars valued wisdom as a universal inheritance regardless of its origins and antecedents — Muslim, Jewish, Christian, Buddhist or Hindu scriptures. This explains why Muslim Sufis experienced no qualms in borrowing this ‘Indian’ story, and how a Jewish rabbi and Christian king did not hesitate to take it from a Muslim source and make it their own.

The fictional narrative is set in a remote island on which several animal species have lived for centuries in peace, free of human interference. Disaster strikes when a ship runs aground the coast of the island. The survivors establish settlements and start killing animals for their fur and meat, and transform them into beasts of burden. In anguish and desperation, the distraught animals send a delegation to the King of Spirits, seeking his intervention against the barbarism of the homo sapiens. Inevitably, the humans defend the lawsuit filed by the animal plaintiffs. They marshal an array of arguments justifying their cruel treatment of animals. However, the animals are able to rebut their arguments and finally manage to convince the king of their case.

“By the grace of God,” the king finally pronounces after hearing both sides, “I find myself in favour of the animals, for they have been sorely tested and abused.” He adjudicates the lawsuit to the satisfaction of both parties, after the humans acknowledge the harm they have inflicted on animals and accept the need to treat all creatures, including their own brethren, humanely.

In his judgement, the king allows them to exercise dominion over the island, but warns them to behave responsibly, and respect animal rights. Only if they cease to trample on other species can they live up to their role of vicegerents of God on earth. Warning of a looming environmental crisis, he says “the animals will begin to disappear, one by one, forever, from the face of the earth; and the air in your settlements and fortresses will become dangerous to breathe… the seasons will be reversed and your climates turned on end… the animals you eat will bring sickness and death upon you… and you will no longer rule the earth.”

Love and respect for non-human inhabitants of the planet and fellow beings of other faiths, persuasions and ethnicities is the overarching message of this enduring book. “May the multi-faith cooperation that informed the transmission of this tale and the publishing of this version inspire people of faith everywhere… to overcome their theological differences and recognise their overwhelming similarities to work together for the common good of humankind and other living creatures,” say the authors, who pray that “that the time will come when we humans treat all sentient beings with compassion and respect”.

A millennium after this book was composed, that time still seems somewhere in the distant future.

Roshan Shah