Aloof? A warm man full of life
SITARAM YECHURY
I first met Comrade Jyoti Basu in 1980 when we had the central executive committee meeting of the Students Federation of India (the CPM’s student arm) in Calcutta. He was in his first term as chief minister and I had to escort him to the party fraction meeting.
The first impression I had was that he had lots of questions to ask about what the younger generation was thinking and doing. It was not usual for him to look after the students’ front. MB (M. Basavapunniah) was in charge of the SFI but could not go to Calcutta for the meeting. So Jyoti Basu substituted for him.
The 1980 general elections were about to take place and the party’s “July crisis” (inner-party differences on the central leadership’s decision to withdraw support to Morarji Desai and back Charan Singh instead) was still fresh. Therefore, there were lots of questions from the students on the party line.
Although dealing with students was not his normal beat, so to speak, and nor was he a member of the central politburo team, Basu handled the questions very well. I realised then, and saw it many times over the years, that the hallmark of his style was always speaking to the point, businesslike and candidly — clearly stating that many a time we cannot determine the course of events but would have to make a choice between the available options.
We (Yechury and several younger comrades) were invited to the central committee in 1984 and took part in many meetings and inner-party discussions. But my personal interaction with Jyoti Basu happened mostly when we were travelling together abroad or in India. I used to accompany him on election campaign tours in the Hindi-speaking states. Although he used to agonise about speaking in Hindi, I must say he made a very sincere effort, much better than most of the younger comrades coming from non-Hindi states.
My first trip with him abroad was to Nepal in 1989. Since he was a state guest, his itinerary included a visit to the Pashupatinath temple. I asked him why he didn’t refuse to go. He then explained some basic facts about statecraft to me. He said that just like India took all visiting dignitaries to Rajghat irrespective of whether they agreed with Gandhi’s philosophy or not, we would have to visit this temple despite being atheists.
My major travels with him were in the late ’80s and early ’90s to the Soviet Union and China to understand the developments that eventually led to the disintegration of the USSR. These were invariably five-member delegations led by general secretary E.M.S. Namboodiripad and included MB, (Harkishen Singh) Surjeet, Jyoti Basu and myself. My role was essentially to take down notes and ask a question only when permitted to do so.
It was on one of these trips to Beijing that during dinner Jyotibabu told me, “Sitaram, you are a very dangerous person. With each of us you speak in a different language (in Bengali to Basu, in Telugu to MB, in Tamil to EMS and in Hindi to Surjeet). I do not know what tales you carry about us to each other!”
He had a wry, subtle sense of humour. I remember another occasion when we travelled to Cuba. Suddenly, after Jyotibabu had retired for the day, there was a message that “El Commandante” wanted to meet us. Reluctantly, he dressed up and we went to meet Fidel Castro just before midnight. The meeting lasted more than an hour and a half. Fidel was asking a string of questions such as how much coal India produced, how much steel, how much cement, et cetera, et cetera. Jyotibabu muttered under his breath to me in Bengali, “Eki aamar interview nichchhe na ki (Is he taking my interview or what)?” Then Fidel turned to me and said: “At his age, I don’t expect him to know all these figures. But as a young man, at least you should know them....”
As a measure of respect for Jyoti Basu, Fidel emerged unexpectedly at the airport to see us off. The entire staff was completely taken aback with Fidel’s sudden
appearance. Jyotibabu once again turned to me and whispered in Bengali: “Revolution hoye koto bochhor holo (How many years since the revolution took
place)?”
I replied: “Chauteesh (thirty-four).”
Pat came his reply: “Ekhono guerrilla tactics bholeni (He still hasn’t forgotten his guerrilla tactics).”
On our way back from Havana, we had to spend some time in Madrid. Jyoti Basu was to be a state guest, not me. Our ambassador asked him in advance whether he wanted to do anything special in Madrid. Jyotibabu in turn asked me and I suggested that we must see Picasso’s Guernica. He conveyed that to the ambassador.
When we reached Madrid, Jyotibabu wasn’t feeling well and did not feel up to driving to the gallery though it was specially kept open for his visit. But he wanted me to go. When I told him the gallery had made an exception only for him, he said: “How will they know who is Jyoti Basu? Just go and see it.”
In Cuba, whether it was at the beach of Valadero or visiting the pubs frequented by Ernest Hemingway or attending the cultural shows Cuba is famous for, the very human Basu would thoroughly enjoy everything that life had to offer. For all his appearance of being aloof, he was an incredibly warm human being. Jyoti Basu proved through his long life of dedication that it is only a good human being who can be a good communist, and only if you love and live life fully can you contribute to the struggle for the emancipation of humanity.
(As told to Manini Chatterjee)
Sitaram Yechury is a CPM politburo member and Rajya Sabha MP from Bengal
SITARAM YECHURY
I first met Comrade Jyoti Basu in 1980 when we had the central executive committee meeting of the Students Federation of India (the CPM’s student arm) in Calcutta. He was in his first term as chief minister and I had to escort him to the party fraction meeting.
The first impression I had was that he had lots of questions to ask about what the younger generation was thinking and doing. It was not usual for him to look after the students’ front. MB (M. Basavapunniah) was in charge of the SFI but could not go to Calcutta for the meeting. So Jyoti Basu substituted for him.
The 1980 general elections were about to take place and the party’s “July crisis” (inner-party differences on the central leadership’s decision to withdraw support to Morarji Desai and back Charan Singh instead) was still fresh. Therefore, there were lots of questions from the students on the party line.
Although dealing with students was not his normal beat, so to speak, and nor was he a member of the central politburo team, Basu handled the questions very well. I realised then, and saw it many times over the years, that the hallmark of his style was always speaking to the point, businesslike and candidly — clearly stating that many a time we cannot determine the course of events but would have to make a choice between the available options.
We (Yechury and several younger comrades) were invited to the central committee in 1984 and took part in many meetings and inner-party discussions. But my personal interaction with Jyoti Basu happened mostly when we were travelling together abroad or in India. I used to accompany him on election campaign tours in the Hindi-speaking states. Although he used to agonise about speaking in Hindi, I must say he made a very sincere effort, much better than most of the younger comrades coming from non-Hindi states.
My first trip with him abroad was to Nepal in 1989. Since he was a state guest, his itinerary included a visit to the Pashupatinath temple. I asked him why he didn’t refuse to go. He then explained some basic facts about statecraft to me. He said that just like India took all visiting dignitaries to Rajghat irrespective of whether they agreed with Gandhi’s philosophy or not, we would have to visit this temple despite being atheists.
My major travels with him were in the late ’80s and early ’90s to the Soviet Union and China to understand the developments that eventually led to the disintegration of the USSR. These were invariably five-member delegations led by general secretary E.M.S. Namboodiripad and included MB, (Harkishen Singh) Surjeet, Jyoti Basu and myself. My role was essentially to take down notes and ask a question only when permitted to do so.
It was on one of these trips to Beijing that during dinner Jyotibabu told me, “Sitaram, you are a very dangerous person. With each of us you speak in a different language (in Bengali to Basu, in Telugu to MB, in Tamil to EMS and in Hindi to Surjeet). I do not know what tales you carry about us to each other!”
He had a wry, subtle sense of humour. I remember another occasion when we travelled to Cuba. Suddenly, after Jyotibabu had retired for the day, there was a message that “El Commandante” wanted to meet us. Reluctantly, he dressed up and we went to meet Fidel Castro just before midnight. The meeting lasted more than an hour and a half. Fidel was asking a string of questions such as how much coal India produced, how much steel, how much cement, et cetera, et cetera. Jyotibabu muttered under his breath to me in Bengali, “Eki aamar interview nichchhe na ki (Is he taking my interview or what)?” Then Fidel turned to me and said: “At his age, I don’t expect him to know all these figures. But as a young man, at least you should know them....”
As a measure of respect for Jyoti Basu, Fidel emerged unexpectedly at the airport to see us off. The entire staff was completely taken aback with Fidel’s sudden
appearance. Jyotibabu once again turned to me and whispered in Bengali: “Revolution hoye koto bochhor holo (How many years since the revolution took
place)?”
I replied: “Chauteesh (thirty-four).”
Pat came his reply: “Ekhono guerrilla tactics bholeni (He still hasn’t forgotten his guerrilla tactics).”
On our way back from Havana, we had to spend some time in Madrid. Jyoti Basu was to be a state guest, not me. Our ambassador asked him in advance whether he wanted to do anything special in Madrid. Jyotibabu in turn asked me and I suggested that we must see Picasso’s Guernica. He conveyed that to the ambassador.
When we reached Madrid, Jyotibabu wasn’t feeling well and did not feel up to driving to the gallery though it was specially kept open for his visit. But he wanted me to go. When I told him the gallery had made an exception only for him, he said: “How will they know who is Jyoti Basu? Just go and see it.”
In Cuba, whether it was at the beach of Valadero or visiting the pubs frequented by Ernest Hemingway or attending the cultural shows Cuba is famous for, the very human Basu would thoroughly enjoy everything that life had to offer. For all his appearance of being aloof, he was an incredibly warm human being. Jyoti Basu proved through his long life of dedication that it is only a good human being who can be a good communist, and only if you love and live life fully can you contribute to the struggle for the emancipation of humanity.
(As told to Manini Chatterjee)
Sitaram Yechury is a CPM politburo member and Rajya Sabha MP from Bengal
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