ডাকবাংলা

When informed that he is the opening act of a ‘Born In Kolkata’ Series, Sir Mark Tully typed in a clarification: “I was born in Tollygunge, which was technically not in Kolkata. It fell under 24 Parganas.” That minor factoid was soon set aside as the stalwart journalist looked back at a 56-year tryst with India, as well as his first decade which was spent in Kolkata. Is Mark Tully ‘Angrez’ or ‘Hindustani’? It is hard to tell – he supports India in cricket, but has a family and fond memories of his growing years rooted in England. “I just am the last relic of the Raj perhaps,” Mark Tully reflects as he speaks about his interactions with Indira Gandhi and Sheikh Mujib on one hand, and his hopes and fears for today’s India. 

You were born in Kolkata and were here for the first decade. Do you have any memories of your childhood in the city? 

I have vivid memories of the time. My father was a senior partner at Gillanders Arbuthnot, a managing agency. I was one of six children, and we grew up in a house that was a large two-storeyed bungalow with a tennis court. I have never lived in an accommodation as posh and spacious as that ever again in my life! The address was 7 Regent Park, and I visited it once or twice in my adult life, before it was demolished a few years ago.

Those are my visual memories, but one very special memory I do have from my early years in Kolkata is of the aromas that emanated from the servants’ quarters of the bungalow, where the domestic staff would cook their meals on a chulha. I know this memory stayed with me when it came back as a powerful recollection in 1965, when I was almost 30. I was staying at the Claridges in Delhi at the time and down below the room, the maalis were cooking lunch on a chulha. The aromas that wafted up triggered lost memories and my childhood ran through my head like an express train! That was when I sensed that India would mean a lot to me for the rest of my years.

You joined the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) after briefly training to be a priest. How did that switch happen?

After two terms of training to be a priest, the bishop called me and told me that I was not the right person to join the order. He felt my place was more in a pub than in the pulpit. He was not too wrong, since I had been spending a lot of time at Adam and Eve, a lovely pub near the Lincoln Cathedral, where I was training! After a short stint with an NGO, I joined the BBC. 

What was India like when you arrived here for your second, and longer innings?

I arrived here in December 1965, and the first big incident I have memories of was Lal Bahadur Shastri’s funeral in January 1966. The lathi-charge to control crowds at the funeral is the first distinct memory I have of my stint with the BBC in Delhi. I was moved back to London in 1969, and actually could not cover the India-Pakistan war and the formation of Bangladesh in 1971, because the BBC were thrown out of India a little before that.

Was this because of any coverage of the early years of Indira Gandhi?

No, this was because the BBC had aired Phantom India, a film by (the French filmmaker) Louis Malle, which was not very polite about India. The Indian government had asked the BBC to not show this film, but the channel did show it and sure enough we were not allowed to operate out of India during the time that coincided with the Bangladesh War.

As a result, I went to what was then East Pakistan, where I was one of the first party of journalists who were allowed free access everywhere. After spending two weeks there, I went to West Pakistan to assess the situation there, before heading back to England, where I helped put together information from the ground during the war.

What are your personal memories from meeting Bangabandhu Sheikh Mujibur Rahman?

I was very happy and proud to be one of the first journalists to interview Sheikh Mujib and he too felt very grateful to the BBC, saying that we had done a great deal for the cause of Bangladesh. I would try to tell him: “But Sheikh Saab, we are not meant to be on anyone’s side, we are meant to present a balanced view of what was happening.” But he would have none of it and even insisted on giving a gift which I left at the Delhi BBC office and still remains there!

Indira Gandhi was Prime Minister here in India at the time. You must have interviewed her several times over the almost two-decade period till her assassination?

I did interview Indira Gandhi several times during that period. At times she would be very charming and willing to talk, and at other times she would be very austere and rather alarming! I remember many things she told me during the course of the several interviews I did over the years. One observation she made, which I think is relevant to today’s India, is that India is quite an easy country to govern. She said this was possible because what happens in one part of India scarcely affected another part of the country, because there was such diversity. I think we’re losing that quite rapidly with the current, over-centralised government, which ignores the federal principles of India. That’s very dangerous indeed and could damage the idea of India irreversibly. 

I remember many other things, one of them was her love for wildlife, which was a great passion for Mrs Gandhi. I remember meeting her with a Director-General of the BBC, just before we were headed to the Jim Corbett National Park and she said: “I love to go to the Corbett Park but I cannot do so because my convoy and guards would disturb the animals, and I am not prepared to harm their peace and quiet.”

How did the period of Emergency pan out for you and the BBC?

The problem with the Emergency was that Mrs Gandhi decided to hand over the Information Ministry to Mr. VC Shukla who, to put it mildly, was a very heavy-handed man. He produced a document which, if we signed, would mean that we would have to abide by censorship laws, and if we did not, we would have to leave the country. The BBC and almost all the foreign press said the document was absurd. It, for example, said you have to report the Parliament but you cannot report anything the opposition said. Since I refused to sign the document, I had to leave India within 24 hours, which I did.

Did you meet Mrs Gandhi when you returned?

When I came back in 1977, I did interview her several times. The last time I saw her, she was absolutely charming. She said: “Switch off your tape recorder and let us chat about what’s happening in the country!”

At around that time, you achieved international fame with your coverage of Operation Blue Star…

It was a fascinating story to cover. I got to know the main participants… I had met (Jarnail Singh) Bhindranwale several times and spoke to him two or three days before the Army attacked (the Golden Temple complex in Amritsar). I knew leaders of the Akali party. 

I was the last person to interview the Shiromani Gurdwara Parbandhak Committee (SGPC) head Gurcharan Singh Tohra, many years after Blue Star. I asked him (excuse my Hindi): “Gurcharan-ji aapki kya ichcha hai? Aap Khalistan chahte hain ya nahin chahte hain?” Tohra gave me a smile and said: “Tully-ji zindagi main kuch kuch ichcha hain, jisko chhipana hai!” Sadly, he died the next day. I knew (Harchand Singh) Longowal, (Parkash Singh) Badal and several others as well.

This period between 1983 and 1991 – between Blue Star and Rajiv Gandhi’s assassination – was one of a big churn.

It was a period of great churning, a period of great disappointment. It was a period where India was in danger of losing its way. Nobody really could see a way ahead. Rajiv Gandhi had a lot on his plate – Assam, the Sikh separatist movement, the economy. We thought for a period he would make a difference, since he signed agreements in Assam and Punjab. He seemed to be a modern man determined to modernise his country. It seemed the creaky, old-fashioned out-of-date India could not keep up. Finally, Rajiv Gandhi couldn’t pull it off and it was a very worrying period for India. 

When Rajiv Gandhi died and PV Narasimha Rao came to power, it was a matter of taking advantage of a crisis, as he tried to make the most of a very desperate situation. And that is what seemed to turn the corner and bring hope back to India.

There is a hugely polarised target group and larger-than-life television news anchors. How would you assess the state of the media today?

The print media does have some good reporting and Op-Ed articles, but what is called the ‘Godi Media’; media that’s in the lap of the government, does exist, and dare I say, dominate.  Having experienced censorship during the Emergency, it is not the same. It may in fact be more dangerous, because even though it is not overt, it is clear that the government does use its power to influence the media in many ways. 

Television media is very disappointing, the standards of journalism and production values are poor. Some presenters are over-exposed, not giving a chance to others. Some reporters gabble so fast you cannot understand a word of what they say.

There are one or two who are marvellous broadcasters; Ravish Kumar from NDTV is one of them. The government has not succeeded in sitting on his head or anything like that. Vinod Dua is also wonderful, but he is on an electronic channel. Some of the electronic channels are doing a wonderful job. For example, I check The Wire regularly.

We have the social media as well, but I am ashamed to say I have nothing to do with it. I guess that is wrong, but since I consider myself retired, I do not feel obliged to keep up with these developments.

What about fake news and openly biased reporting that is now the norm in many media houses?

It has always been there in a way. You are writing for the converted, you’re doing television for the converted. In Britain, the Daily Mail is very distinctly right-wing, while the Daily Mirror is clearly left-wing and The Guardian is best described as liberal. So, biases are not unusual.

What India lacks is something like the BBC. When something happens, a conflagration of any sort, you should be able to turn to a public service broadcaster to get news. In Britain, 90 per cent of the population say they use the BBC as the source of news. George Verghese fought for a public service broadcaster many years ago and this led to the birth of the Prasar Bharati. But that’s not a public service broadcaster since it is controlled by the government. 

A few years ago, I went to a radio conference with South Asian countries. I have to say with shame that the country I live in – India – has the least liberal radio broadcasting. It was true then and is true now. Private radio here is still not allowed to broadcast news. 

The problem is that the institutions which should control politicians and prevent them from running away with everything are not sufficiently strong. And the voice of the people is not sufficiently heard, because politicians get away with so much. The failure of the judiciary, the civil service and the abject failure of the police to stand up to the politicians or even dare give advice to politicians is hurting the country.

India will turn 75 next year. What are your hopes and fears for the country?

I worry about the weakening of institutions, when I see some of the actions of the ruling party and the silence of their top leaders, even as they push through policies that do not match India’s traditions of tolerance.

My hope for India was that it would develop as an example to the rest of the world; it would show that you could have democracy in a country which had a lot of poor people and that democracy could solve the problems of the poor people. I had hoped that India would prove that you could have a country with diverse religions and all those religions could exist peacefully together; that you can have a religion like Hinduism, a majority religion that does not try to impose itself on other religions. I believed and still do believe that India will move back again to that track, but at 85, I am not sure I will be around when that moment comes along.

Illustration by Chiranjit Samanta

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