Booking lives, living books

Today’s leaders commission their ‘hagiographies’ which their sycophants buy in large numbers but which remain unread. If by chance an intrepid biographer were to tell even a smidgen of truth, law suits are threatened much prior to publication, and worse may follow. More dreadful is your fate if you happen to begin your biography when your subject is in power but falls from grace by the time it’s out. If you praise your subject, the new neta is upset. If you criticise, then you may find false friends among his enemies. The best way then, as one leading TV anchor did, is to drop the project. You lose power and you lose visibility.

Who would risk life, reputation and, of course, future favours? If you want a quick career boost or network with your favourite celebrities, just write a good, schmoozy book about them. One cinema buff has created an international career out of these love fests. Such books are just another genre of vanity publishing, as the subjects often call the shots. But leaders are ill served by a rush of badly written books. Indira Gandhi found this when she was in power, and her many biographies are largely forgotten. The one published posthumously was too uncomfortable for the family, although what it revealed would be thought mild by the other Gandhi — the Mahatma. Sonia Gandhi is subject to the same flattery in all that is written about her. I doubt if she bothers to read such guff. Of course, sometimes even hagiographies become important because there’s so little available in the public domain about our leaders compared, for instance, to the West. Kings used to have their own prashasti commissioned in the old days which at least gave you their genealogy. Take Akbarnama. It may be biased, but at least it is a useful historical source.

Today, even a hint of criticism of figures like Shivaji could lead to riots and bans. It is this malign disregard for history that allows our present-day leaders to escape a rigorous scrutiny. Frank Moraes when editor of The Times of India managed to write a fine biography of Nehru even while Panditji was alive. How many of our editors and columnists today would dare to write an unexpunged biography of the politicians they know only too well? Even the autobiographical project has to be carefully crafted. Narasimha Rao wrote The Outsider — which was largely believed to be based on his own life — as a novel. Perhaps he was simply being prudent. When the less cautious Khushwant Singh decided to write his autobiography he was hauled to court.

Recently, when I wrote Darlingji, the joint biography of Nargis and Sunil Dutt, I was fortunate to receive the complete support of the family and friends of the Dutts. No conditions were placed for using the material they had shared with me. This only showed the maturity of Priya and Namrata Dutt. They were aware that there would be a difference between the book they would write on their parents — Mr and Mrs Dutt — and the one I would, but they did not lay down the line.

It’s another thing that some people felt overwhelmed because two books — although very different — on Nargis and Sunil were published at the same time. But we are starved of biographies and it is my hope that there will be many more on them. In fact, as a country, we need to have more books about the people who have inspired either admiration or outrage in us. As their lives come into view, we begin to understand them better. Warts and all.

The writer’s book, ‘Darlingji’, was published recently

kishwardesai@hotmail.com