Winning the toss

Today, a full 35 years later, the quiet, mild-mannered Physics scholar and teacher has metamorphosed into a true blue bureaucrat who, as the Cabinet Secretary, finds himself in the bureaucratic hot seat. The pressures of interacting with a coalition government have witnessed a certain transformation the easy manner of yore has been replaced by a grim, austere facade which rarely breaks into a smile.

If this is brought to his attention, he shrugs away the suggestion that the burdens of office havetaken a toll on him. So how does he define the role of the cabinet secretary? His answer is revealing, even if a wee bit over-optimistic. According to Kumar, a cabinet secretary has the role of translating government policies into reality by effectively employing government machinery and projecting the aspirations of employees and officials in the best possible way to the political executive.

Ironically enough, Kumar has had to prove his ability to rise up to this definition within days of occupying his new position because of the on-going face-off between the bureaucracy and the political executive.

While no one doubts his fidelity to the IAS fraternity, there are many colleagues who cavil over his lack of overt support to them in their struggle against political belligerence. Others more sympathetic to his plight view him as providing an invaluable buffer against political antagonism.

They point to the tacit support he lent them when beleaguered colleagues who had happened to cross swords with theirpolitical bosses, whether it was Urban Development Secretary Kiran Aggarwal or ED chief M.K. Bezbaruah, needed his help. Says a close aide: “Every bureaucrat has his limitations, particularly in a coalition government. One can only advise in such a situation.” Mere advice, however, does not placate his detractors, who see it as an expression of “timidity” and prefer to fight their own battles.

Born in Allahabad in 1940, Kumar’s academic career was punctuated by an almost unbroken series of `firsts’. Whether it was an M.Sc. in Physics from Allahabad University or a Masters in Economics from the London School of Economics, it was one triumph after another. A brief teaching stint at Motilal Nehru Engineering College followed but, in the true tradition of his alma mater, academics had to logically lead up to a career in the civil services.

Yet, his personality seemed to militate against this trajectory. An epicurean, a bookworm, a poet, a photographer and a painter, he would rather have spent his lifeperfecting the fine arts rather than the art of governance. Counted among the few well-dressed bureaucrats that Delhi boasts of, Kumar’s sartorial elegance is as talked about as his academic brilliance.Life saw him see-sawing between convictions and compulsions. Old ideals were necessarily jettisoned somewhere along the way. Before long, Kumar had clearly decided that only a middle-of-the-road approach would help his career along. This recognition paid rich dividends as is evident from his rising career graph. He never had to experience the chill ambience of the bureaucratic wilderness. A series of high-profile assignments included a three-year stint as minister (economics) in Paris. His natural ascendancy won him without question the acceptance of contemporaries and plaudits from seniors.

Never one to flounder in detail, his most memorable achievement was in pulling UP State Textile Corporation out of the red as its chairman. The corporation’s performance, in fact, surpassed that of many industrial groupsin the private sector. But even the most neutral and colourless account of his bureaucratic tenure cannot ignore the blight cast upon his otherwise apolitical track record by the Ayodhya crisis. He happened to be the home secretary of Uttar Pradesh at the time. To this day, even a cursory mention of it clearly rankles.

Crisis has always brought out the fighter in him, whether it was in implementing industrial policy in UP or, more recently, while working out the niggling details in the complex Cauvery accord.

Kumar has realised the virtues of remaining a faceless bureaucrat, especially as cabinet secretary. In fact, he wears his low profile almost as a trophy. Never one to court popularity, he cringes even at the mention of the media. As he puts it, “Compared to my earlier posting as secretary, textiles, I have deliberately adopted a low profile because as the Cabinet Secretary, I am not implementing decisions but helping in arriving at decisions. A cabinet secretary is the link between varioussecretaries and the Cabinet and in that capacity I would prefer to keep a low profile.”Not surprisingly then, there is an instinctive aversion to flattery, sometimes bordering on impoliteness. When his son was hospitalised after an accident recently, he forbade hospital authorities from allowing any officer to visit the boy. His natural reticence, often mistaken for arrogance, percolates to his circle of friends as well. Very few of them can pretend to be on intimate terms with a personality so reserved. However, the most fateful chapter of a long if not tranquil career is yet to be written as he faces the unenviable task of managing the fierce internal pressures within government. But his characteristic impassivity and aplomb should help him along. Meanwhile, he has his eye trained on the future. As he puts it, “Indian administration in the 21st century will have to incorporate three basic features the use of modern technology, the increased productivity of staff and an effective delivery system.”