I always wrote against the current: Girilal Jain
There is this classic story about Mr NJ Nanporia, then editor of The Times Of India, and his chief reporter, Mr VN Bhushan Rao. Mr Nanporia had (still has) a great fascination for antiques; one Saturday afternoon the two met by chance in Chor Bazar. After an animated conversation, Mr Nanporia introduced himself and asked Mr Rao what line of work he was in.
Mr Girilal Jain (who succeeded Mr Shamlal, who succeeded Mr Nanporia) was not as bad, but he also did not know 90 per cent of his editorial staff. They were all editors of a kind, concerned only with the editorial page and the editorials, the rest of the paper was left to the news editor and the chief subs. And Mr Jain was perhaps the last of these editors, when he retired at the end of 1988, and era ended.
I was at the Times, a reporter, when Girilal became the editor. He came from Delhi, where he was the resident editor, and for a long time he was very miserable in the apolitical climate of this city. In New Delhi, editors are made much of, people crowd around them at cocktail parties and ask them how long the government would last. Bombay’s cocktail crowds do not know the difference between an editor and a reporter. But Mr Jain made the best of it, frequently travelling to Delhi, like Maharashtra chief ministers.
In the office, the old order continued. In all my time at the Times, I do not think even once I saw Mr Jain enter the large editorial hall. He sat on the other side of the corridor, in the editor’s cabin. On the same side were the cabins of the assistant editors. Every morning, they would all meet for the coffee conference. Mr Jain, Inder Malhotra, who has now resigned and writes a weekly column for the Times at a price that is said to be more than the salary he used to get as senior assistant editor, Mathew, who died, KC Khanna, who also died, but a tragic death, AS Abraham, who left and joined the Hindustan Times, Ajit Bhattacharjee, who now works for the Deccan Herald, Darryl D’Monte, who left and has now returned as resident editor, Fatima Zakaria, who resigned, RK Laxman, who for some unexplained reason has been included in these conferences by successive editors, Dileep Padgaonkar, who has now become the editor, though he functions from Delhi. The conference was always about who would write the edit page article, which current topics to use. Only the edit page, the rest of the paper did not exist.
Mr Jain, of course, did the bulk of the writing. He was a prolific writer, and wrote on all subjects, with knowledge and authority. When I worked under him (though that is only a manner of saying, actually I worked under the chief reporter, the same earlier-mentioned Bhushan Rao), I did not read him much, but later I became a regular reader of his, admiring his erudition, his independent point of view, above all his craftsmanship as a writer, precise and direct, as against Arun Shourie, who has a tendency to run all over the paper and into the next day’s paper. When Girilal left, I was sorry. I knew it would be good for the paper, but bad for the edit page. It has turned out to be so: the news is more varied, there is a regular arts page, a frequent media page, more features, more sports, but the editorials are without Girilal Jain’s thunder, as he would one day champion the prime minister and the next day challenge him.
In New Delhi recently, I rang up Mr Jain and asked for an appointment. He said he would send the car to take me to his Gulmohar Park residence. But he came himself. One afternoon in the week, he made a round of the bookshops, it was that afternoon, and he was in the neighbourhood.
The house looked new. He had constructed it a few years ago, given out the ground floor, kept the two upper floors for himself. Mr Shamlal stayed a few houses away in a house he had constructed for himself. There were other journalists staying in the colony in their own houses. Delhi journalists had done well for themselves, much better than our own local journalists at Patrakar Nagar in East Bandra.
Drawing-room
There were books in the drawing room. We went upstairs to the study – more books: Trial Of Socrates by I.F. Stone, Ethnicity, Analytical Psychology by Jung, Strategies Of Political Emancipation, Bhagwat Gita, A New Face Of Hinduism, Philosophical Trends In Modern Maharashtra, Peasant Nationalists Of Gujarat, Dasgupta’s History of Indian Philosophy, The Foucal Reader. They were not the review books that editors get and display on their bookshelves.
My purpose was to find out two things (1) How and why did he leave the Times, and, (2) What was he going to do next.
“I was due to retire in July, 1983, but I was given a three-year extension. When the extension ran out, I was ill, I had almost died, Arun Shourie had come in. The management asked me to continue till December, 1986. Once again, when the time ran out, the management requested me to stay on indefinitely. Mind you, not endlessly, but the period of stay was not defined. It was agreed that the final date would be fixed by mutual consultation. And in September, 1988, the date was fixed as December 31. There was no contract. All these stories about contract running out… I had no contract. I had continued under just one letter from the chairman.
“On December 21, I proceeded on leave prior to retirement. In fact, I was in the office the next day. But a circular was issued to change the imprint line. I have no knowledge of the fact that led them to take this decision.”
I am told he feels bitter about this pre-emptory and graceless dismissal with just ten days to go for his own voluntary retirement. But he did not show any signs of bitterness to me, or, perhaps, I am not so perceptive. Instead, he told me: “I would like to be judged by what I have done. I wrote against the current all 11 years of my editorship. I was not being perverse. And I can say in all conscience that I have done my best for this institution which I regard as a national institution and not a private business house. That is my concept of a newspaper, even though privately owned, it has to see itself as a national institution. Of course, it has to be financially viable, otherwise it would be vulnerable to all manner of pressures. But its purpose is a public purpose, not profit. I do not think it is just another industry. During the strike, when managers used to say the factory was closed, it used to hurt me. I am not trying to put on a pose, but I have never gone to the proprietor for any favours, rise in salary, perks. They have treated me well. But I can also say that regardless of emoluments I would have worked hard. I virtually ended my social life when I took over as editor. Once in months I would go to a party, I reserved my evenings for my reading.”
Girilal Jain has been a hard-worker all his life, and he has risen from the ranks in that classical style of all old editors of that period, from a junior reporter to the editor of the greatest newspaper in Asia. The beginnings were humble; born in Piplikheda, a village in Haryana, 40 miles from Delhi, just off the Grand Trunk Road. A reasonably prosperous family reduced to very difficult circumstances because of business losses, partly because of depression, partly on account of the new amended land alienation act which made it difficult for the money-lending trade. The family had land in UP and Haryana, but as Girilal grew up all that remained was one plot near the village and the family’s respect, all the money was gone. Girilal says that it was this reverse in the family fortunes that got them educated, first brothers, then himself. “My mother financed us, selling her ornaments, gold sold at Rs 18 a tola. Mother was illiterate, father knew a little Urdu, he kept accounts in the mundi script. I studied till the sixth class in the adjoining village, there was no school in our village. Then I went to Sonipat, now a district headquarter, then a tehsil town. I lived in the hostel. Ram Singh, who later became the president of the Hindu Mahasabha, was the warden. He had been a teacher in a Delhi college and he introduced me to public life.”
Girilal began to be concerned with the future of India at the age of 14 and to date he continues to be concerned. At the age of 15, in 1937, he addressed his first public meeting. By 1939, he had passed his high school and moved to Delhi, where he joined the Hindu College. The elder brother was in St. Stephen’s. He stayed in a hostel five miles away and daily would walk to and from, having long discussions with other students as they walked. The war had begun. Young Girilal was attracted to the communist party and participated in its student activities. He read Lenin and Stalin, Tolstoy, Dostoyevsky, Pushkin. But soon he fell out with the communists, came under the influence of MN Roy’s followers, who were supporting the war effort. And he bought the Congress line that India could look after its own security as an independent country.
By 1942, he had joined the Quit India movement and got into trouble with his brother who opposed his political activities. The brother had by then become a lawyer and Girilal was staying with him, but after the quarrel he left the house and fended for himself. He was arrested for participating in a rally, jailed for four months; released, passed his B.A. with history honours.
Between 1943 and 1948, he had no stable job, little money, he walked through Delhi most of the time, came to know the city like the back of his hand, lived with friends, lived in an ashram for some time, tried to do his M.A. but had no money for it. For a while, he worked as a salesman for a paint company, wrote for Independent India edited by M.N. Roy, was paid Rs. 25 per article, which was a lot of money then. A friend was running a school in Delhi, he taught there, but soon found that teaching was not to his taste. Then in 1948 he joined the News Chronicle as an apprentice. Shamlal was also there, the two became friends and they have remained so all through.
In 1950, Girilal joined The Times Of India as a junior sub-editor and his rise had begun. In 1951, he became a reporter, in 1958 chief reporter, in 1961 the paper’s correspondent in Pakistan. He says: “No senior person wanted to go to Pakistan, so I opted and got the job. By this time I had already published a monograph on Mao, a book on Nepal, a book on the conflict in Tibet. I did all my own typing, the Nepal book took four drafts.”
Nanporia, who was then the editor of the Times, of the Times, was on his way to London and spent a day in Karachi with Girilal. At the end of the day, evidently impressed, he decided to post him to London. So Girilal became the London correspondent of the Times. In 1964 he was back in Delhi as assistant editor, 1970 Delhi resident editor on the retirement of D.R. Mankekar, 1976 editor-in-chief on the retirement of Shamlal. Did I mention that he came from Piplikheda, a village off the Grand Trunk Road that had no school!
Of years with the paper, he says: “From 1967 to retirement I wrote a regular weekly column, sometimes two, there has not been a week when I have written less than three editorials. In this entire period there has not been a word on the edit page that I have not examined, no major story that I have not overseen. Apart from sports, which I do not understand, there has been no aspect of the paper that I have not looked into.”
And, apart from the actual writing: “Since I joined the profession, I have in my own humble way stood for certain principles. In professional terms, I have stood for the authority of the editor. The proprietor has every right to pick up whoever he wants as editor, lay down a broad framework of policy, if dissatisfied with the performance of the editor in terms of policy, he has every right to ask the editor to go. But so long as the editor is functioning, he must have full freedom in respect of policy and appointment of staff. The appointment committees that some newspapers have are loaded with managers, who, in my opinion, have no business being on the committees.”
There has been talk of the management having offered to continue him at the Times as an editor emeritus or a consulting editor.Mr Jain did not confirm this, but said: “I cannot take position in a newspaper which would weaken the position of whoever is the editor. I cannot accept the concept of editorial adviser or editor emeritus, the presence of an ex-editor somewhere around in the building keeping an eye on the editor. My presence in the building would have been an inhibiting factor. And what would I do! Write occasionally!
“I am made in a certain way – either I am in charge or I am not there. Samir (Jain) has a perception of the role of the publisher, what happens in certain American newspapers, perceptions of editing a newspaper. I cannot endorse that approach, but I have no right to obstruct that approach in any way. So, in the circumstances, it was my moral duty to go and the decent thing for me to do was leave.”
He continued: “There had to be a new editor. I am set in my ways, by nature I am a conservative. I am not forcing my position on anybody else. I concede, the other man may be right, but I am entitled to stick to my attitudes, right or wrong; I have been charged with being dogmatic, I am not.”
What next?
So, to the future. What is going to be Girilal Jain’s future, since no newspaperman ever retires. “I have been looking at the historical developments in India, particularly during the British period, which have considerable bearings on developments today. I am reading a great deal on Hinduism and Islam as part of my effort to evolve an integrated approach to problems of India. These interests are not new, but for the first time I have the luxury of being able to devote myself to them without the distraction of having to comment on day to day issues. Politics, I regard as froth on the surface, I am trying to look beneath the froth. Questioning assumptions of things done in 20 years.”
It was difficult for me to follow the rest, because Mr Jain seems to have shifted from journalism to scholarship. He explained that that the year 1871 was the dividing line for Indian society, it was when the first census was held, which divided the people on the basis of religion. The key lay in that date. That was his current preoccupation, working out the implications of history He sincerely believed that the country would be better equipped to tackle its problems if this scholarly knowledge of history was transmitted through more popular fora.
What he wants to do is to together a group of people, 15 to 20, who shared his preoccupation and who could write for him. It mean a publication and it would require money. What sort of publication? “It would not be journalism in the sense of investigations or preoccupation only with contemporary developments, though that would not be excluded. Not Encounter, that would be too highbrow for India, not quite Modern Review, but something on those lines.”
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BOX: ‘It’s ridiculous to say I am Rajiv’s adviser’
Throughout the interview, Girilal Jain puffed on his pipe. He continuously dabbed on the tobacco, lit it, drew the smoke in, then repeated the process. Nihal Singh and he are the two pipe-smoking editors of India. Nihal is more elegant, Girilal robust, both in their smoking and their writings.
There were some interruptions from telephone calls. Somebody wanted Girilal to come to Hyderabad to participate on a seminar on how to tackle terrorists. Girilal politely refused, telling the caller he knew little on the subject. Another call was for him to preside over a meeting in Goa. Once again he refused, he had just retired, his things were in a disarray, he had to attend to them. I thought Khushwant Singh would have jumped at both the invitations. There are editors and editors.
There was another call. He only told me about it later, when he offered to drop me at my hotel. It was no trouble, he was going that way, he had to go to parliament house, the prime minister had called him. He indicated the telephone where the call had come.
Yes, Rajiv Gandhi called him, sometimes when he wanted to discuss something, “I have a relationship with Rajiv Gandhi where I feel free to tell him what I think is in the country’s best interests. It is ridiculous to say I am his adviser or that he seeks my advice. Whenever I meet him, inevitably issues of public interest come up and I express my opinion. It is no different from the kind of relationship I had with Indira Gandhi. I had the same relationship with Morarji, and even with Charan Singh for a long time.”
“Yes, Akbar (M.J.) is close to Rajiv. But he is his….campaigner. He is really an amazing person, Akbar. Travels more than any editor. And, yes, his book on Nehru, it is large and a lot of work has gone into it.
He also writes so much for his paper. He is what you would call an activist editor. Nikhil Chakravarty is next, he also travels a lot, and he keeps meeting people from morning to evening. Quite the opposite of me. MV Kamath is a fast writer, straight on the typewriter. And he is always readable. A true journalist.”
We also talked about a few politicians. Vasantrao Patil had died that morning. “He was so ill, but carried on till the last. I have not met another politician who was so straightforward. If he would not do something, he would say no. He was a rural politician, as opposed to the urban politicians, the rural are more straightforward. The new young politicians, especially in the Rajiv era, are all for themselves.”
The rest of the time, in the car going back, he pointed out to me the sights of Delhi, a city that he used to walk in his youth and that he knew like the back of his hand.
The Afternoon Despatch & Courier; 3 April 1989