It is bad enough to find yourself in Lahore, twice within a month, on a day when India are throwing away a Test match to Pakistan from an unassailable position. It is worse when you also end up being lectured by Imran Khan on the essence of leadership and how we lack it so badly. ``Look at Azhar. He is a nice sort of a guy,'' he said, sipping syrupy, milky tea at his Zaman Park house, as I dropped by last Sunday to escape the usual mid-summit boredom, ``but I am not sure your team looks up to him''. Imran followed this up with a cruel, clinical dissection of how poorly Indian cricket is led.Nothing he said is particularly new. Azhar, a nice guy, a great stylist, awesomely talented, is neither an inspirational captain in Imran's mould, nor an intellectual one like Mike Brearley. Aloofness and leadership by rote are his trademarks. He is also the coolest in defeat, delivering the same old post-match speech: ``They bowled, batted and fielded better than us. They fully deserved to win. Congratulations...etc,etc.'' This does leave us bitter and infuriated. But are we being fair to him?
The more you think about it, the more it would seem that Azhar the cricket captain is, sadly, a metaphor for the Indian approach to leadership. A nice guy, talented, unquestioning and unassertive, willing to listen to the powers that be, never threatening the system or hoping to break out of it. See how this metaphor works in other parts of our lives and then ponder over where it leaves us in an increasingly competitive world.
Culturally and historically, we like and want leaders like Azhar. Even before him, our cricketing authorities have found it difficult to handle strong leaders. Lala Amarnath, Pataudi, Gavaskar, Bishen Bedi were barely tolerated and rocked at the first opportunity by an establishment that loves its Wadekars. For our establishment, a leader has to be a ``good boy'' first, who would listen to them. This is why, even as coach, we would choose someone in show-them-the-other-cheek mould like Anshuman Gaekwad,while the Pakistanis bring out their meanest, toughest cricketer ever, Miandad, and give him an incredible contract where he not only coaches, but can also play, if required.
It is the same story elsewhere. In hockey, the ``system'' has fixed the Dhanraj Pillays and Pargat Singhs for the mere crime of believing they were leaders of men. We have also fielded a team in the Olympics with joint captains (Prithpal Singh and Gurbux Singh at Mexico City, 1968). Tennis has the hoary tradition of a non-playing captain and anybody who tries to speak his mind pays for it, even if he happens to be Vijay Amrithraj. Ditto for the badminton establishment and Prakash Padukone.
All this cannot be a coincidence and if appr-oach to competitive sport is often seen to reflect a particular society's wor-ldview in general, there must be a larger lesson here. What is it that ma-kes us, as a nation, insecure about strong, genuine leadership? Are we just a nation of wimps who feel insecure under the leadership of anybody who isn'tone? Why do we see such moralistic justification in firing a Bhagwat, are so outraged by a Sundarji, Thimaiya or Manekshaw speaking his mind, throw out a public sector captain (Prabir Sen, managing director of Indian Airlines) for the ``crime'' of presuming that he is the boss of his company? From sport to soldiery, from the laboratory to the boardroom we, as a society, are perennially driven by the fear of leadership.
We are comfortable with leaders who are faceless, spineless and guileless; which is why we are winless. That is why the IAS is a system so ideally suited for India, and prospers despite deregulation, decentralisation and debureaucratisation. In this rotational system, where someone can be in the textile ministry one day and in defence the other, nobody can be a leader for too long. Also those career professionals who remain, whether generals, or scientists, or public sector CEOs, have to survive within an elaborate web of shackles and booby traps, so touchingly described as our system ofchecks and balances.
The ``leader'' in this system has no real powers though he may have accountability. When things go wrong, his head rolls. The real powers are with the joint secretary in the ministry who is transient. Just as Moham-med Azharuddin, therefore, personifies our preference for a leader without power, the joint secretary is our metaphor for power without accountability.
There isn't one aspect of our lives that isn't blighted by this virus. Some, like our academics, have even institutionalised this through so utterly preposterous a system as ``rotation of headship'' where faculty members take turns at becoming heads of the department. No wonder nobody listens to them, not even the peon. Barring an oddity like A.P.J. Kalam, our scientific and academic world doesn't throw up any stars or stalwarts and if anyone does show such tendencies, the system obviously sorts him out before too much damage is done. In the corporate sector, it is simpler.
Most of the leadership is in any case hereditaryand crony capitalism still ensures the family business is not threatened by professionals. Within the so-called professionally-run companies, strong individuals are rarely encouraged barring the odd exception such as HLL or ITC. It is unlikely that we will ever produce many Percy Barneviks, Rebecca Marks, Roger Enricos or Carlo Donatis. Even more unlikely that they would survive in our system.
It is difficult to say when and how we caught this affliction. It is tempting to believe it could be more inbuilt, rooted, probably, in polytheism where you cannot trust any one god with more than a thing or two and where even our pantheon is ruled by a troika. But real people are no gods and we confuse chaos in the leadership with collective accountability.
This makes us a society with a deep-seated coalition complex. No wonder then that we are now condemned to live with just what we deserve, and feel comfortable with. Strong leaders, who can defy this system, are invariably people with a streak of madness ordictatorial tendencies. They are extremist cult leaders like Bhindranwale or Thac-keray or mavericks like Seshan, K.P.S. Gill and Kiran Bedi.
So why blame Azhar? He is at least a nice guy. Why listen to Imran Khan, for so long the feudal lord of Pakistani cricket? Why even complain about losing all the time, or not winning enough for, aren't we supposed to be philosophically conditioned to accept fate as it unfolds? Strong leaders challenge all that. They shake things up. Force you to think, change. Who wants all that dissonance when we are, to quote the immortal words of a leader of our times called H.D. Deve Gowda, like this only.
Copyright © 1999 Indian Express Newspapers (Bombay) Ltd.