Editorial Viewpoint
The forsaken hero
At the Chandanwadi crematorium on May 27, 1998 as per his wishes no prayers were recited for Minoo Masani. A few admirers, however, sang a bhajan or two. Masani had his corpse disposed of with the least fanfare and in the most efficient method available. In death as in life, he believed in austerity. His sharp intellect, sense of propriety, financial integrity propelled him to the leadership of the opposition in Parliament. No other Parsi has ever held such a high political office in the history of independent India. He lived by his principles and often paid a heavy price for doing so.
If Masani is not much remembered by Parsis, it is partly because he was greatly involved in the national scene and had little time for community matters. He was also a liberal in a community and a country dominated by traditionalists. As his son Zareer notes in his memoir And All Is Said: Memoir of a Home Divided (see review “The politician and the princess,” pg 35). “Father, with his long and unblemished record, now emerged as the champion of political rectitude, mercilessly and successfully rooting out and expelling opportunists from the rank of his own (Swatantra) Party. But he had one major disadvantage. As a Parsi he could never hope to be accepted as Prime-Minister-in-waiting by a predominantly Hindu country. And partly for that reason, he could not persuade his political allies to unite against (Prime Minister) Mrs (Indira) Gandhi on a principled platform based on a common programme.”
One wonders if being a Parsi is what prevented Masani from becoming the Prime Minister or his stubbornness. After all, the present Prime Minister is a Sikh and if it were not for the wrangles over her foreign origins, Sonia Gandhi, a Christian, should rightly have become the Prime Minister of India. When someone suggested to Jawaharlal Nehru that he form a national government with able men including Masani, Nehru replied, “Just imagine what would happen. My friend Masani would obstruct almost everything I wanted to do, and I would certainly stop him from doing things he might wish to do. We would soon be throwing things across the table at one another,” relates Zareer. Nehru was a socialist while Masani had become a votary of economic liberalization.
Masani would often say he was a misfit in a political arena dominated by paan chewing, chappal wearing, back slapping, dhoti clad politicians whose principal interest was extracting favors for their family members and friends. In some ways he preferred Gandhi to them despite her despotic nature and unprincipled ways.
It was the opposition’s thirst for power at any cost that Masani could not contain. They formed an unprincipled alliance shorn of any common miminum goals or ideals with the sole intention of ousting Gandhi and coming to power. Could any politician, Parsi or otherwise, have made them realize the folly of their ways? Unlikely.
His sister Mehra was partly a victim of Masani’s opposition to the government of the times. The moving spirit of India’s first national broadcasting network, she was passed over for post of director general of All India Radio “because of the government’s political bias against her.”
Masani meticulously observed timings. One could set one’s watch by his arrivial. If the invitation to a seminar or social engagement specified a particular time, Masani would be there on the dot. Industrialist Viren Shah who later joined the Bharatiya Janata Party and was governor of West Bengal at one time would often relate how Masani would chide him if he was tardy for a meeting. He applied the same yardstick to all.
He was always careful to keep his community identity low-key. When he decided to give up active politics and took on the editorship of Freedom First, he selected a young Parsi journalist as his assistant editor and publisher. Though the position was largely honorary, he still requested the new recruit not to print his first name in the journal as people may think he was being parochial, favoring one of his own kind. Only the initials and a surname — that could have belonged to any community — were published in the monthly 12-page journal.
Masani’s irritability and tendency to become upset over minor errors could perhaps be attributed to simmering matrimonial problems at home. He was married four times and his third marriage took over 15 years to end.
Minoo, like his father, Sir Rustom, was a stickler for honesty and a disciplinarian. “My Parsi grandparents disliked superstition and were largely agnostic but they valued the ethics of Zoroastrianism and Grandfather had written a scholarly book The Religion of the Good Life,” writes Zareer. The book was the basic text on the religion for decades in foreign universities.
“Despite his atheism, Father was adamant that I must have a navjote to satisy his parents…what I dreaded most was the traditional rite of sipping bull’s urine during the ceremony. But I need not have worried; my grandparents were too enlightened for such undiluted mumbo jumbo,” appreciates Zareer. A colorless liquid was substituted for the nirang.
In 1934 Minoo became one of the founders of the Congress Socialist Party, a left wing bloc within the National Congress. This strained his relationship with his father. Sir Rustom “did not mind socialism, but he did object to the concept of class war, which he considered pernicious…”
Minoo, therefore, decided to leave home and took up a job as an assistant editor at a new paper to be launched titled The Daily Sun. His salary was Rs 150. When he told his father of his plans, Sir Rustom protested, “I never meant you to go.” Minoo replied, “I know you didn’t but it was a well deserved remark. I should have done this much earlier.” Sir Rustom agreed on one condition — Minoo lunch with him every day at the Grand Hotel of which he was a director. “You can’t possibly feed yourself properly on Rs 150 a month,” he observed.
As M. R. Pai of the Forum of Free Enterprise observed at a condolence meet held in the auditorium of Bombay House, the headquarters of the Tatas where Minoo worked closely with J. R. D. Tata for many years, “When I saw his (Minoo’s) assets I was surprised they were so meager…Had he concentrated on his profession which was management consultancy he would have been a rich person. He gave his time and talent for the cause of his country.”
Minoo married Shakuntala on April 29, 1946 in then Ceylon, “under special license,” notes Zareer. “In India at that time a civil marriage was only possible if both parties renounced their religious faith and this mother was reluctant to do.” The wife’s family wanted the couple to “go through with a Hindu ceremony like Feroze Gandhi (who married Indira).” Minoo retorted: “To hell with Feroze Gandhi.”
The community has honored many of its greats but Masani has not been amongst them. No community condolence meeting was held. No road or park has been named after him. No postage stamp issued. Not that Masani would have wanted or sought such accolades. As Zareer stated at the condolence meet, “He (Minoo) would not have expected a eulogy. He would have approved if I begin by mentioning some of his faults.”
Masani should be remembered by his co-religionists because, by doing so, the community would bring honor on itself for reminding the world that there was one such person amongst us.
If Masani is not much remembered by Parsis, it is partly because he was greatly involved in the national scene and had little time for community matters. He was also a liberal in a community and a country dominated by traditionalists. As his son Zareer notes in his memoir And All Is Said: Memoir of a Home Divided (see review “The politician and the princess,” pg 35). “Father, with his long and unblemished record, now emerged as the champion of political rectitude, mercilessly and successfully rooting out and expelling opportunists from the rank of his own (Swatantra) Party. But he had one major disadvantage. As a Parsi he could never hope to be accepted as Prime-Minister-in-waiting by a predominantly Hindu country. And partly for that reason, he could not persuade his political allies to unite against (Prime Minister) Mrs (Indira) Gandhi on a principled platform based on a common programme.”
One wonders if being a Parsi is what prevented Masani from becoming the Prime Minister or his stubbornness. After all, the present Prime Minister is a Sikh and if it were not for the wrangles over her foreign origins, Sonia Gandhi, a Christian, should rightly have become the Prime Minister of India. When someone suggested to Jawaharlal Nehru that he form a national government with able men including Masani, Nehru replied, “Just imagine what would happen. My friend Masani would obstruct almost everything I wanted to do, and I would certainly stop him from doing things he might wish to do. We would soon be throwing things across the table at one another,” relates Zareer. Nehru was a socialist while Masani had become a votary of economic liberalization.
Masani would often say he was a misfit in a political arena dominated by paan chewing, chappal wearing, back slapping, dhoti clad politicians whose principal interest was extracting favors for their family members and friends. In some ways he preferred Gandhi to them despite her despotic nature and unprincipled ways.
It was the opposition’s thirst for power at any cost that Masani could not contain. They formed an unprincipled alliance shorn of any common miminum goals or ideals with the sole intention of ousting Gandhi and coming to power. Could any politician, Parsi or otherwise, have made them realize the folly of their ways? Unlikely.
His sister Mehra was partly a victim of Masani’s opposition to the government of the times. The moving spirit of India’s first national broadcasting network, she was passed over for post of director general of All India Radio “because of the government’s political bias against her.”
Masani meticulously observed timings. One could set one’s watch by his arrivial. If the invitation to a seminar or social engagement specified a particular time, Masani would be there on the dot. Industrialist Viren Shah who later joined the Bharatiya Janata Party and was governor of West Bengal at one time would often relate how Masani would chide him if he was tardy for a meeting. He applied the same yardstick to all.
He was always careful to keep his community identity low-key. When he decided to give up active politics and took on the editorship of Freedom First, he selected a young Parsi journalist as his assistant editor and publisher. Though the position was largely honorary, he still requested the new recruit not to print his first name in the journal as people may think he was being parochial, favoring one of his own kind. Only the initials and a surname — that could have belonged to any community — were published in the monthly 12-page journal.
Masani’s irritability and tendency to become upset over minor errors could perhaps be attributed to simmering matrimonial problems at home. He was married four times and his third marriage took over 15 years to end.
Minoo, like his father, Sir Rustom, was a stickler for honesty and a disciplinarian. “My Parsi grandparents disliked superstition and were largely agnostic but they valued the ethics of Zoroastrianism and Grandfather had written a scholarly book The Religion of the Good Life,” writes Zareer. The book was the basic text on the religion for decades in foreign universities.
“Despite his atheism, Father was adamant that I must have a navjote to satisy his parents…what I dreaded most was the traditional rite of sipping bull’s urine during the ceremony. But I need not have worried; my grandparents were too enlightened for such undiluted mumbo jumbo,” appreciates Zareer. A colorless liquid was substituted for the nirang.
In 1934 Minoo became one of the founders of the Congress Socialist Party, a left wing bloc within the National Congress. This strained his relationship with his father. Sir Rustom “did not mind socialism, but he did object to the concept of class war, which he considered pernicious…”
Minoo, therefore, decided to leave home and took up a job as an assistant editor at a new paper to be launched titled The Daily Sun. His salary was Rs 150. When he told his father of his plans, Sir Rustom protested, “I never meant you to go.” Minoo replied, “I know you didn’t but it was a well deserved remark. I should have done this much earlier.” Sir Rustom agreed on one condition — Minoo lunch with him every day at the Grand Hotel of which he was a director. “You can’t possibly feed yourself properly on Rs 150 a month,” he observed.
As M. R. Pai of the Forum of Free Enterprise observed at a condolence meet held in the auditorium of Bombay House, the headquarters of the Tatas where Minoo worked closely with J. R. D. Tata for many years, “When I saw his (Minoo’s) assets I was surprised they were so meager…Had he concentrated on his profession which was management consultancy he would have been a rich person. He gave his time and talent for the cause of his country.”
Minoo married Shakuntala on April 29, 1946 in then Ceylon, “under special license,” notes Zareer. “In India at that time a civil marriage was only possible if both parties renounced their religious faith and this mother was reluctant to do.” The wife’s family wanted the couple to “go through with a Hindu ceremony like Feroze Gandhi (who married Indira).” Minoo retorted: “To hell with Feroze Gandhi.”
The community has honored many of its greats but Masani has not been amongst them. No community condolence meeting was held. No road or park has been named after him. No postage stamp issued. Not that Masani would have wanted or sought such accolades. As Zareer stated at the condolence meet, “He (Minoo) would not have expected a eulogy. He would have approved if I begin by mentioning some of his faults.”
Masani should be remembered by his co-religionists because, by doing so, the community would bring honor on itself for reminding the world that there was one such person amongst us.
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