Greatness is a very elusive quality. The great are great not because they are perfect, but because they manage to overcome the limitations set by their weaknesses most of the time. These thoughts come to me when I recollect a pleasant morning I spent two decades ago, with the cartoonist K. Shankara Pillai, known popularly as Shankar — whose birthday incidentally fell last week. Somehow the conversation drifted to India’s first prime minister. “Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru was a great man,” Shankar said, with a merry chuckle. “A truly great man.” I wondered if there a dependable yardstick to measure greatness. To which Shankar responded with alacrity, “Of course. Take Nehru, for example. He could take jokes in his stride. He was the central figure in about 4,000 cartoons. They reflected my reaction to events or developments of the times in which he had a major role to play. Some of the cartoons exposed his failings. Yet not once did he react angrily. Only a great man could do that. I had watched politicians at work from close quarters. Many of them held very important positions. Yet most of them were political pygmies. They could not stand criticism. They were blinded by their importance. When I located the flaws and brought them out into the open, through the cartoons, they felt hurt. They exhibited a total lack of any sense of humour. “Not so Pandit Nehru. He always demanded the originals of the cartoons in which I had attacked one or other of his political actions. He thanked me, often, for helping him spot his inherent weaknesses. He liked to be reminded that he too was mortal. Perfection is not for any man, however powerful and highly placed he may be. Nehru had the wisdom to realise that. That’s why he was great.” I then asked Shankar what Pandit Nehru’s major weakness was. Said he, “He was a thinker, a dreamer. He reminded me of a child, lost in the world of politics, driven by good intentions, yet unwilling to ride roughshod over others. That made him appear indecisive. Once I drew a cartoon that showed over 30 Nehrus, each acting against the other.” “And he did not take you to task for showing him as indecisive?” I asked. “No. I wouldn’t call it a weakness. He was sensitive to every issue and wanted to weigh the pros and cons of every move before talking a firm decision. The time he took to decide often gave the impression that he was vacillating. That was not true. He did not rush in madly into a course of action. He was equal to every crisis. That speaks of his true greatness.” Shankar then went on to explain that Nehru was, for him, a mentor, a guide, a lodestar, a guardian angel. Nehru, on his part, paid Shankar a huge compliment, too. “Don’t spare me, Shankar!” he once told the cartoonist. He had obviously found a valuable critic in Shankar.
