Before God’s footstool to confess A poor soul knelt, and bowed his head; “I failed,” he cried. The Master said, “Thou didst thy best—that is success!”
My house and my free flying Macaw in Guyana, 1980
It was December 1980. I was sitting on the veranda of my house in Guyana. It was about 9.00 pm, dark, balmy evening in the tropics. As usual on most days in this season, it had rained in the day and stopped. The air was heavy with moisture but the breeze, cool. Before me was the orange orchard of the Staff Hill, bounded on the far side by the forest. The rain-forest of Guyana. The evening had signed off to the night by the booming calls of the Howler monkeys who also announced the beginning of the new day. Scarlet Macaws flew to their roosts, talking to each other. I also heard the chatter of the Sakiwinki (Common Squirrel Monkey) families settling into their resting places. The forest was now relatively quiet, except for the singing of the Cicadas, whose song rose and fell in waves like those of the ocean. Sometimes they would fall totally silent, only to start again in the middle of my deep breath of relief, to remind me that the only way to live with Cicadas, as with some kinds of people was to get used to them. The forest is never totally silent because the forest is a living being. It has living beings in it, but it is itself a living unit which breathes, sings, groans and talks to those who know how to listen. The forest has its own language, which you need to learn, if you want to enjoy being in the forest. Otherwise the forest can be an alien, ominous, even threatening presence to those who don’t understand it.
I spent my whole life
from the school days, to this, in forests. Not that I lived inside them but I
lived near them and where I didn’t have forests near me, like now when I live
in a huge, concrete labyrinth called a city; I make the effort to go to the
forest at least once every quarter, simply to breathe. Otherwise I feel
suffocated and start dying slowly, inside. The forest rejuvenates me, gives me
new life, energizes me and enables me to go on for a while longer. So, that
night I simply sat on my veranda and was one with the forest.
But where does the poem
I began with, come into this story? You ask.
That night, I had finished a very long and protracted negotiation with the union, a marathon session over 72 hours, practically non-stop. But still at the end, we were waiting to see what the union would do. Accept or not. That is when I recalled this poem, which my very wise and dear friend and boss, Nick Adams had mentioned once. You will not be asked, ‘What happened?’ You will be asked, ‘What did you do?’ As someone said, ‘You don’t lose the race when you fall. You lose the race when you fail to rise.’ As long as you rise and keep running, you are in the race. But if you remain down, then you are out of the race. Who decides whether you rise or not?
We are brought up
wrong. In many more ways than one. Let me give you an example. Someone told me
a very tragic story about a highly successful Indian businessman in the US, who
one day, shot himself, his wife and two children, obviously not in that order.
When the case was analyzed, it turned out that he had fallen on hard times and
though he had property which he could sell to settle his debts, he would have
been reduced to penury and would have had to start all over again. He chose
instead to end it all and killed his whole family as well. Someone commented on
this story and said, “The problem is that he was taught how to deal with
success, not with failure. We must learn how to deal with failure.” That may
sound a bit like loser-talk; learn how to deal with failure? Think about it
while I tell you another story.
This is about Thomas Edison, the great inventor and founder of General Electric. The story goes that one night Edison’s famous laboratory caught fire. It was housed in a separate building and before anyone was alerted and could do anything, the whole building and everything inside was a huge conflagration. Edison’s son, Thomas Alva Jr. said, “I was very anxious about my Dad and rushed to see where he was. This was his entire life’s work going up in flames and I was afraid that he would perhaps do something drastic at this tragedy. When I found him, he was standing with his hands folded behind his back, watching the fire. He saw me and said, “Go call your Mom. She is not going to see such a magnificent fire in a hurry.” Thomas Alva says, “I couldn’t help myself but ask him, “But Dad, that is your entire life’s work!” Thomas Edison replied, “Tell me, how many people have the chance to have all their mistakes erased at once? Now go and call your Mother.”
I said that we are
brought up wrong because we are conditioned to seek outcomes and to not only
feel sad, glad, bad, mad based on them but to judge ourselves on the basis of results.
Now, don’t get me wrong. Especially those who know me and know how focused on
results I myself, am. I am not against focusing on results, but on focusing on
them to the exclusion of everything else. I submit that if you focus on the result
alone, that can be detrimental to the result itself and so it is a
self-defeating exercise.
What must I focus on,
if not on the result? You ask.
Focus on the process. Focus
on the way. Enjoy the effort. Monitor what you are doing and how you
are doing it. Put metrics on the effort and as I said, enjoy it. The reality of
life is that there are no final results. Every result is like a rest spot in a marathon.
You can stop for a bit, while the rules of the game get changed. Then you run
again. Not in the marathon; in life. The truth is that most of our life, we are
going to be engaged in the process. Most of our time, all our effort and resources
are going to be engaged on the way to get to our destination. If we don’t enjoy
that, then we are going to be very miserable. But if we enjoy the journey, then
we will live a very happy life. As for the destination, well, the right road will
get you there, but only if you keep walking. So, Johnny Walker, keep walking.
In Guyana I lived in a small mining town called Kwakwani, which clung to the bank of the Berbice River, with the ever-present forest threatening to engulf it in an unwary moment. We generated our own electricity using a generator that had a huge flywheel to take care of providing energy for the engine after it delivers the power stroke. Look it up if you are interested in the role of the flywheel in power generation. My point however is different. The flywheel, for those who have never seen one, is a huge wheel with spokes. The one in Kwakwani had a diameter of 30 feet and was made of cast iron. It was a massive piece of machinery. We never allowed the engine to stop but on the annual maintenance day, when the engine had to be stopped for a few hours, the sight of the restarting was very amazing and instructive. To get the flywheel to start turning, it took a huge effort because it was so heavy. After applying all the effort, it would turn just slightly. Sometimes it would simply settle back in place, a heartbreaking thing to see for those who had bust a gut to get it to move. But you never gave up because you knew one thing and that was, that once it started turning, it would go on turning literally forever. If those trying to get the flywheel to move, focus on results, they will lose heart, because for the longest while there are no results, despite all your effort. But if they focus on the process, see if they are pushing hard enough, do whatever it takes to keep pushing, then the result is inevitable and then all they need to do is to stand by and watch it happen.
Nuwara Eliya, Sri Lanka
My most inspirational
creatures in the wild are small birds. Birds which are so small that when they
perch on a blade of grass, it doesn’t bend with their weight. These birds,
their eggs and young, are prey and food for everything that eats meat. And they
can’t do anything to defend themselves or to protect their young. Yet they thrive.
How do they do that? They do it by focusing on the process.
The Bulbul, my teacher
Here is my conversation with one of them, who perched on a little twig right before me and my camera in Wilpattu National Park, Sri Lanka, with a neatly tied blade of grass in her beak. “How do you do it?” I asked.
“I am a bird. It is
my job to build a nest and raise young. I do that job to the best of my ability.
If in the process, my nest is destroyed, I simply start building again. If I build
the nest and lay eggs but before they can hatch a tree snake, a rat, a monitor
lizard or anything else finds my nest, then I escape and let the predator eat
the eggs. I can’t help it. I can’t protect them. But once the predator has left,
I build another nest and I lay some more eggs and I incubate them. It is
heartbreaking when predators find my nest with my young in it. Once again, I must
leave and watch my babies being eaten before my eyes. But then what do I do? I
build another nest. I lay some more eggs and I raise some more babies. That is
why in the end, I survive and my tribe increases.”
I am in my nest but you can’t see me
I ask you, ‘Have you
ever seen a depressed Bulbul?’ I haven’t. They have no time for depression. They
never give up. They know what they are supposed to do. They do it until they
succeed. No matter how many times they fail in the process. No matter how long
it takes. They keep at it until they succeed. And in the end, they always succeed.
This is a new initiative that I started this week. Leadership is a Personal Choice. It will be available on Google Podcasts (Android) also. Please listen to the introduction first which tells you what this is all about and what I am trying to persuade you to do. Then listen to the first episode, Differentiate. This and more to come, are the essence and extract of my own experience as a Leadership Development expert, gained over 35 years, on 3 continents, working with people of multiple races, religions, communities and nationalities.
This is my tribute to all those who contributed to my growth, all those who taught me life lessons and gave me opportunities to prove myself. All those who challenged me, stood by me, refused to accept anything but the best and who appreciated what I did. What I do today is because of what they did for me. Some of them have passed on. Others are still in my life and I thank Allahﷻ for both. They are too many for me to name and some wouldn’t like to be named. But I salute every one of them and they live in my heart.
I want to share this with you free and I hope you will benefit. Some people told me that I am giving away my capital (because for a Leadership Consultant ideas are billable capital). I said that I would rather give it away than take it to my grave. I don’t know anyone on the other side who needs this.
So, please listen and enjoy this. And if you like it, please share with others and please let us know. All the very best to you.
If you asked me to tell you in one word; only one
word, the secret of success, I would say, “Differentiate.”
Let me begin with a question; “What do you ask for
when you go to the corner store to buy toothpaste?” Do you say to the attendant,
“Please give me toothpaste?” If you did, what would happen? Maybe you should try
this out the next time you go shopping. What would happen is that the store attendant
would ask you, “Which brand would you like?” You will face the same situation
if you went to buy almost anything in the market, unless it was buying mangoes
from a street vendor. Products are known, recognized and bought by their brand.
I teach career management in global corporations
and have been doing that since 1994. You can see my presentation on career
management on my YouTube channel https://www.youtube.com/user/YawarBaigAssociates . The link to the presentation is Careers in Global Corporations http://bit.ly/2ZY3KW5 . I’ve taught this
course in GE, Motorola, IBM, Microsoft, National Semiconductor and many other corporations
in America, India and elsewhere. But more importantly this is what I practice
myself, in my lifelong effort to add value to others and thereby to myself. That
is how I define my career. That is my differentiation. Adding value to others.
What is differentiation?
Differentiation is to stand out. Not blend in.
Incidentally that is also how I define leadership. Let me give you another example;
how do you introduce yourself? More than likely you say, “I am an IT
professional or engineer, doctor, teacher, whatnot.” Well, so are a million other
people in the world. You are one in a million in the wrong sense. You need to become
one in a million in the sense of that proverb. That is differentiation.
Why Differentiate?
Because Differentiation creates Brand
Brand inspires Loyalty
Loyalty enables Influence
Without differentiating you are one grain of rice in a sack. You are still rice, but one grain in a sack. Nobody knows you exist. Nobody cares. Nobody understands this better than Apple. Or Coke for that matter. And that is why these brands inspire loyalty that seems extreme and even absurd to others. But it is neither. It translates into a totally loyal customer base which is money in the bank and make Apple and Coke the most valuable brands in the world.
In the podcast that goes with this article, I will
tell you a story about brand that happened with me in 1996 and has stayed with
me all these years and is one of the most powerful illustrations of the power
of brand. Don’t miss that podcast. Please subscribe to our channel and you will
be alerted every week with a new episode.
How can I differentiate, you ask? Let me tell you
a story from my life. But first, the principle; you differentiate by doing what
the rest of the world is not doing and doing it in a way that is graceful, dignified
and beneficial to all concerned. Differentiation is not about being freaky. It
is about standing out in a way that inspires respect and the desire to emulate in
those who see you.
It was 1989 and I was a Manager in the tea
plantation industry in South India. I had been in the industry since 1983 and
had developed a reputation for high productivity and excellent labor relations.
A very big advantage in a highly labor-intensive industry with a militant
unionized workforce. I was ambitious, high-energy and looked forward to a fast-track
career. At that time, I was transferred to our company’s garden in Assam. The job
was at the same level as I was at but came with better perquisites and a slightly
bigger span of responsibility. What it also came with was the ‘opportunity’ to
be as far away from the company headquarters as is geographically possible,
when your company HQ is in Chennai. For some this may have looked like a good
thing. To me, it didn’t. In the corporate world, ‘out of sight is out of mind’.
So, I declined the transfer. This was not easy for me or my bosses. This was a
trying period because suddenly I had no specific job. I had to leave my job as
the Manager on Lower Sheikalmudi Estate because that job had already been
assigned to another colleague. That left me literally homeless as there were no
bungalows in the Anamallais where I could live. It is a measure of my reputation
with the company and the understanding of my superiors that I was not simply sent
home for refusing to accept the transfer. I was sent off to Mango Range until
the management could decide what to do with me. We stayed there for six months.
I was getting my salary, but I had no work. No office, no superiors to report to.
No assignment. Nothing to do.
I was assigned a bungalow in a forest thicket,
which was in a dilapidated condition. The location of the bungalow was lovely,
and it was a joy to wake up to bird calls every morning. However, the house
itself looked like it would collapse on our heads at any time. Of particular concern were the walls, which
were so waterlogged that they had fungus growing on them in huge patches. My
wife is an amazing homemaker and all her talents were put to test in this
place. Out of this dilapidated house she created a lovely home which we enjoyed
living in.
Now, this is where differentiation comes in.
Anyone else in my position would have done one of two things. Either they would
have resigned and tried to find another job. Or they would have considered this
period as a paid holiday and enjoyed it. I enjoyed it alright, but not as a
paid holiday and I didn’t leave or even try to find another job. I loved my job
in the plantations and had no intention of leaving until someone kicked me out.
So, I wanted to ensure that didn’t happen. Since I had no regular job, I
decided on doing two things:
For a long time, I had been talking about the need
for systematic training of new assistant managers. The current system in the
plantations was that a new assistant would be put under a manager and what he
learnt or didn’t depended on the capability, interest, and energy of himself
and his manager and field or factory officers. If the assistant was lucky and
got some people who were both knowledgeable and interested in teaching, then he
learnt a great deal. If not, he remained guessing. This is a highly undesirable
system, which is very time and energy intensive and does not give standard
results. I had been advocating for several years the need for a standard textbook
on tea plantation management, which could be used to provide standardized
training. Any additional inputs that the young man’s manager and staff could
give him would only add to this, but he would not be deficient in the basics.
During my stay in Mango Range, I decided to write this book and in 6 months, I produced a 200-page Manual of Tea Plantation Management. Remember, this was before we had access to computers. The best we could get was a 386 desktop and DOS-OS. So, I wrote the book on an ordinary typewriter and then re-entered it all on a 386 at the head office when it was done. No copy paste, no cut and paste, no auto-correct or spell check. Windows were in the wall and what sat in your lap couldn’t be typed upon. At the time of its publication there was no such book on the market, and it was a source of great satisfaction for me. My company published it as an internal training book and though it was never a commercial publication, it did get fairly wide publicity and was used by many new managers. The biggest lesson for me was about the power of the written word and its high credibility in making your customer base aware of what you have to offer. I never forgot that lesson and today, I have just published my 35th book. After that book there was no way that I could be ignored, not that I feared that. I had a lot of people who I had dealt with over the years rooting for me in the company.
The second thing I did was to spend a lot of time
in Mango Range factory and hone my expertise in CTC manufacture of tea. I was
very fortunate in that Mr. T.V. Verghese, who had retired as a General Manager
in Tata Tea and was consulting with our company on CTC manufacture, was a
regular visitor and we became good friends. He shared his knowledge freely and
I learnt a great deal. He was a practical teacher, which meant that I got to
spend a lot of time on my back on the floor meshing CTC rollers with grease
anywhere on my face and body that grease would stick. I learnt all aspects of
manufacture hands-on, further reinforcing my belief that learning comes from
doing – not from talking about doing. In Murugalli Estate, I’d had a lot of
experience in Orthodox manufacture, and even though I had built Mayura Factory,
the premier CTC factory in South India, I was moved as soon as the construction
was over – thanks to a motorcycle accident. Consequently, my knowledge of CTC
manufacture was weak. In Mango Range, as a student of Mr. T. V. Verghese and
thanks to his willingness to teach, I rectified that deficiency. It was ironic
that thereafter I went to Ambadi, which was a rubber plantation and never
really used this knowledge, but it did come in use for writing a paper
comparing Orthodox and CTC methods, which I presented at the UPASI Annual
Conference in 1989.
Mango Range was an interlude in my career. I was
marking time and waiting for some positive change to happen, and in the meanwhile,
I enjoyed myself. It has long been my philosophy to live one day at a time and
to try to create as much happiness for myself and around me as possible. I have
learnt that the two are the same. You can only be happy if those around you are
happy. This is true whether you are an individual, an organization, or a
country. Imagine what a wonderful world we would have if instead of competing,
we collaborated and shared resources. We would all be wealthier, happier, and
healthier. I have always held that the secret of happiness is to be thankful
for and enjoy the small things in life. There are far many more of them than
the big events. If we can enjoy the small things, then we can be happy all the
time. The key to enjoyment is to appreciate them and be thankful for them. An
attitude of gratitude. The key to contentment is not amassing material but in
being thankful for what one has. The happiest people are those who are content.
Content people are those who are thankful. Material wealth has nothing to do
with it.
One of the things that I was very appreciative of
and thankful for was the leisure that I had in Mango Range. I had no specific
work except what I decided to do for myself. And I was still getting my salary.
So, I decided to learn golf. I got a caddy from Ooty Golf Club to come and stay
with me in the estate for three weeks. His name was Frank Augustine (I used to
call him Frankenstein) and he looked like a dried prawn. When he swung the club
though, he always hit the ball with that sweet phut that all golfers love to
hear. And the ball would travel straight like a bullet down the freeway. Whereas
my club would come up with a good measure of earth and top the ball to boot. Shows
that technique and not strength of the arm is what works in golf. As it does in
many other things in life. Frankenstein believed in hard work – meaning, making
me work hard. He set up a practice net, produced a set of one hundred used golf
balls and we were good to go. I would hit the ball into the net until I felt my
arms would drop off. All the while, Frankenstein would sit on his haunches
under the Champa tree that was to one side and watch me and make clucking
noises. The effect of all this clucking and my swinging at the ball became
clear when one day about midway in our training Frankenstein suggested that we
should go and play a round at the club. So off we went on the three-hour drive
to Ooty. After a cup of tea and a sandwich, I teed off and that is where all
the practice paid off. Ooty Golf Club has very narrow freeways bordered by
spiky gorse. If you didn’t hit your ball straight, you would send it into the
gorse and then you may as well forget about it – or pay to get the ball back by leaving your
blood on the gorse and acquiring gorse thorn furrows in your hide. As
Frankenstein continued his mother hen act, I could see the distinct improvement
in my style and capability.
Differentiation creates Brand. I got noticed and appreciated
and was rewarded with one of the toughest jobs in the company. I was sent to
New Ambadi Estate as its Manager. Two estates, two factories in Kulasekharam, Kanyakumari
District of Tamilnadu, which is geographically in Tamilnadu and spiritually in
Kerala. Highly militant, unionized, communist unions with a history of violence.
And to top it all, I didn’t know the first thing about rubber estate
management. I had not even seen a rubber tree in my life until then. That is another
story of great friends, like Arun, who taught me all about rubber. I
successfully faced the tough unions and not only won but made lifelong friends
with the union leaders, so that when I was leaving Ambadi three years later, the
General Secretary of the CITU, came to my farewell party, unannounced and delivered
such a speech that he had us all in tears. But as I said, that is another story.
My motto is, “I will not allow what is not in my control to prevent me from doing what is, in my control.’
My mission is, “Opening the world, one mind at a time.”
Welcome to our channel, “Leadership is a Personal Choice.” Because it is.
I speak to audiences around the world and I can tell you that if I asked anyone from any country, of any race or religion, at any economic and educational level to tell me in one word, the biggest problem we face, they will say, “Leadership.”
So, what is the solution?
It is to understand and accept that “Leadership is a Personal Choice.”
Leadership is not about status, designation, salary, perquisites, rank or power. It is about accepting responsibility for action. It is about saying to yourself, “This is my job and I am going to do it.” And then to find ways to create impact, no matter how small or limited it may seem. It is really as simple as that.
It is my hope that over the coming weeks, months and years, as you listen to these podcasts and watch the videos, you will stop and ask yourself only one question and that is; “How can I make a difference?” And then that you will do what you can do, where you live, in your circle of influence, using your resources, to make a positive difference in your world.
Please note, I am not talking about you telling others what to do. I am talking about you doing what you can do.
I am doing what I can. I am inviting you to do what you can. And if you need my help, you only need to ask.
The thought that drives me is: If not now, then when? If not me, then who?
June 17, 2019…the saddest day in recent memory.
The day when Dr. Mohamed Morsi, the first democratically elected President of
Egypt, died in a Kangaroo Court defending himself against ridiculous trumped up
charges. He was not granted a public funeral, a mark of the fear that even the
dead body of a man of truth, inspires in the cowardly hearts of those who
manage to kill him. That is because humans can be killed but what they stood
for, lives on and continues to inspire others, long after they are gone. May
Allahﷻ grant
this pious man the best of rewards in Jannah. May the Qur’an become his Hafiz
in the Aakhira, as he was its Hafiz in this life. His death
underlines the fact that what is important is not whether we live or die,
because everyone dies. What is important is how we die and what we die for.
Morsi left his mark in history. I was in Egypt in 2014 and wrote this piece. https://yawarbaig.com/wherearetheleaders/if-i-were-president-of-egypt/
All humans make mistakes and all mistakes are
opportunities to learn from. That is their only use. When we learn from them,
we don’t make the same mistakes again. When we don’t, we are destined to make
the same mistakes over and over until we learn. ‘Nations (people) that don’t
learn from history are condemned to repeat it.’ Morsi was human and I am sure
if he were alive, he would have been very happy to analyze what happened and
what should be done differently the next time around.
This is my attempt at trying to learn some lessons
from history. Let me warn you in advance that if any analysis is to make
meaning or prove useful, it must be divorced from emotion. I know that many of
my readers, indeed I myself, can think of many excuses for what Morsi did and
explain each action away by seeking refuge behind ‘good intentions’,
‘commitment to Islam’, ‘personal piety of Morsi’ and so on. That would be
totally counterproductive. The issue here is not how the supporters of Morsi
see his decisions or the actions of his party, but how others did and do. It
was that which brought about the tragic events leading to the reinstatement of
dictatorship and the death of Morsi and hundreds of his followers. Surely, that
is a sacrifice which should be enough for us to ask some tough questions and
face some unpleasant facts.
Let us see how things were when Morsi and his
party won the election in Egypt. Egypt is an African country but since its
conquest by Amr ibn Al A’as ® and Abu Ubaida ® in the time of Omar ibn Al
Khattab ®, it has been Arab. Arabic became its language and over the centuries
it was the seat of several powerful Muslim Empires, including the Mamluks who
in the Battle of Ain Jalut in 1260 defeated the army of Hulegu Khan, the
grandson of Genghis Khan. The first time that a Mongol army had been defeated
by anyone. https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/Battle_of_Ain_Jalut
In more recent times, thanks to its size,
population, education, the Arab film industry, Al Azhar University and the
global fame in recitation of the Qur’an, Egypt is the leader of the Arab world.
Though it is an African country, it is more than likely that anyone who is asked
to list the top three most significant countries in Africa and the Arab world,
will list Egypt in the Arab world and not in Africa. So, what happens in Egypt
has repercussions in the world in general but very particularly and powerfully
in the Arab world. Egypt, apart from this is the only country in the Arab world
which is not a hereditary monarchy and has had elected leaders, even if all of
them, excluding Morsi were elected in sham elections and were really dictators.
Yet they were never called ‘King’ or any of its variations and were always
‘President’. This is another reason why Egypt is important because it is a
major departure from the norm of rulers and the ruled, in the region. When the
so-called Arab Spring happened in Egypt, with the fall of the reigning dictator
Hosni Mubarak and the election of Dr. Mohamed Morsi, it was a watershed. It was
a marker in history that a new era was about to be ushered in.
The popularity of Morsi and his party was
unquestioned. The symbolism of people in Tahrir Square, the energy they
displayed, Muslims praying, with Christians standing around them guarding them
from any would-be mischief makers, myriad images on TV, social media and print
media of the events leading to the final removal of Mubarak and the swearing-in
of Morsi, all signaled that the destiny, not only of Egypt, but of the Arab
world, was about to change. Very heady stuff or very alarming stuff, depending
on who was watching. All went well in the beginning. Morsi was welcomed at
home. He met the Coptic Pope and assured him that his government would
safeguard the interest of the Christian minority; which though a minority, is
very significant and powerful in Egypt and has international support. He was
invited by King Abdulla bin Abdul Aziz of Saudi Arabia to visit and was
accorded full honors as Head of State and promised to help him with financial
aid. The fact that he was a Hafiz of the Qur’an was mentioned with almost every
mention of him as a person. His humility, piety, clean politics, innocence even,
was the talk of the town, as it were. He was welcomed and applauded in all Arab
countries and practically everywhere else.
Back home however, expectations were high; in
keeping with domestic problems, the chief of them being employment. No matter
who the President may be, people need jobs and food on the table. The burden
that popularly elected leaders get to bear is to deal with high, most of the
time unreasonably high, expectations of those who elected them. Part of the
reason is the election campaigns themselves where leaders must promise to pave
the streets with gold, in order to win elections. Nobody in today’s world will
vote for a leader who speaks the truth and says, ‘After you elect me, you will
still have to go to work and work very hard to feed your family. I will promise
you a clean government, law and order, safety and security, an education system
that will create skilled people over the years, a working medical and
health care system and clean and safe cities. But you are responsible for
yourselves and your families and you must pay taxes to enable the government to
give you all of what I promised you.’ That is perhaps the best speech, which
though totally truthful, is guaranteed never to get you elected. So, leaders
promise to put not merely bread, but Biryani or Lahm Mandi on every table for
every meal at the expense of the state. I am saying this figuratively but the
idea in any election campaign is to make the alternative to status quo look so
attractive that people will be inspired to do whatever it takes to bring in the
new regime. This is the system followed all over the world with its
consequences clearly visible to anyone who chooses to see. Most choose not to.
Ditto Egypt.
Wikipedia has this to say about the events of the
time:
As president, Morsi issued a temporary
constitutional declaration in November 2012 that in effect granted him
unlimited powers and the power
to legislate without judicial oversight or review of his
acts as a pre-emptive move against the expected dissolution of the second
constituent assembly by the Mubarak-era judges. The new
constitution that was then hastily finalized by
the Islamist-dominated constitutional assembly, presented to the
president, and scheduled for a referendum before the Supreme
Constitutional Court could rule on the constitutionality of the assembly,
was described by independent press agencies not aligned with the regime as an
“Islamist coup”. These issues, along with complaints of
prosecutions of journalists and attacks on nonviolent demonstrators, led to the 2012 protests. As
part of a compromise, Morsi rescinded the decrees. In the
referendum on the new constitution, it was approved by approximately two-thirds
of voters.
On 30 June 2013, protests erupted across Egypt, in
which protesters called for the president’s resignation. In response to
the events, Morsi was given a 48-hour ultimatum by Egypt’s military to
meet their demands and to resolve political differences, or else they would
intervene by “implementing their own road map” for the country. He
was unseated on 3 July by a military coup council consisting of
Defense Minister Abdel Fattah el-Sisi, opposition leader Mohamed
ElBaradei, the Grand Imam of Al Azhar Ahmed el-Tayeb, and Coptic
Pope Tawadros II. The military suspended the constitution and appointed
the President of the Supreme Constitutional Court of Egypt, Adly Mansour, as
the interim president. The Muslim Brotherhood protested against
the military coup, but the pro-Morsi protests were crushed in the August
2013 Rabaa massacre in which at least 817 civilians were
killed. Opposition leader ElBaradei quit in protest at the massacre.
In simple terms what are we seeing here (what did
the people see)?
Someone
who promised to be democratic, showing that inside the façade lives a dictator
who didn’t take long to have himself declared, “granted him unlimited powers
and the power to legislate without judicial oversight or
review of his acts”. {Public perception: Alarm, chagrin, rage!!! Did
we go through all this to get another Mubarak?}
And
then he does something that no leader must EVER do. He, “As part of a
compromise, Morsi rescinded the decrees.” {Opposition’s reaction: Ah!Gotcha!! He is weak. Bring
him down. Get rid of him. We respect strength. Nothing else.} The rest is
history.
Sisi took over; arrested Morsi, slaughtered
protestors and the Arab Spring turned into a wet squib.
Morsi (and his party and government) made four
cardinal mistakes, which proved suicidal.
Instead
of focusing on economic development, they got bogged down in ideology. Various
statements were made, including by Morsi himself, praising democratic elections
and thereby directly and indirectly criticizing (Arab) monarchies.
Instead
of focusing on building on the goodwill of the minority Christian and Jewish
population and bringing them all together on one Egyptian identity, Morsi and
his party raised the boogie of the Shari’ah and played right into the hands of
their opposition as well as raising the alarm with others. The attempt at
trying to get ‘unlimited powers and to legislate without judicial oversight’
were grist to the mill; a Godsend for anyone planning to bring Morsi and his
party down. The tragedy is that the only people who seem to have been blind to
this was Morsi & Co.
Instead
of focusing on internal issues of employment, hunger, health care, education
and others, it appeared that there was more focus on external issues, be it the
condition of Palestinians or giving aid to disaster affected people in
Indonesia. This coming from a country which almost literally was living off aid
from America and other Arab countries.
Perhaps
the most lethal of them; imagining that personal piety and incorruptibility is
a substitute for political sagacity and wisdom.
It bears to note that Sisi was Morsi’s Army
Commander, reporting to him as the President and at least in the beginning, at
his command and mercy, even to retain his job. Yet Morsi failed to control, let
alone neutralize him. Morsi’s death is tragic. But not surprising. His fate was
sealed when he displayed weakness.
What could he and his party have done? Here’s my
two-cents worth as a rank outsider who by virtue of that, perhaps has a clearer
view than those involved. Objectivity and perspective are a function of distance.
Homework. What seems to be clear is that the entire turn of
events, winning the election, overwhelming support of all people including
those normally opposed, culminating in being able to form a government, came as
a big surprise to Morsi and his party. I don’t believe they really believed
that they could win. So, they were not prepared to move from their position of
at best being in opposition, to being the ruling party. Their reactions seem to
me to be just that, reactions, and therefore unplanned. They were acting in the
moment without a clear (or any) view of why they were doing what they were
doing or what the likely consequences of that may turn out to be. Everything seems
to have been a surprise; some pleasant and some shocking. Clearly for all
aspiring leaders, homework is critical to success. The Shadow Cabinet in the
British Parliament is a brilliant example of preparation. Nothing like
simulation to understand the complexity of leadership and how to prepare for
it. But then, only those who expect to win, prepare for it. And sadly, those
who don’t prepare, squander the gains.
Celebrating
is for others. Keep your head
squarely on your shoulders and forget about celebrating. Let others do it. You,
the leader, must understand that when the celebration is over, it is you to
whom everyone is going to look for the future. So, what do you have to show
them? Can you deliver on what you promised? If yes, then when? If no, then what
is your plan to mitigate the inevitable disappointment? Once again it comes
down to preparation, anticipation and the ability to deliver on your promises. People
expect a change in status quo. That is what they voted for. They didn’t vote
for everything to be the same except the name of the leader. No matter how
‘unreasonable’ that may seem to you, the leader, that is what people expect and
you must give it to them. Maybe not everything, but enough to keep their hopes
high. If you don’t, then the disappointment after an unexpected victory is
proportionate to the joy.
Focus. For any leader, even more for the head of a major
nation like Egypt, there are a million demands on his attention; a million
causes all clamoring for him to deal with them. Focus in the art of ignoring
fluff. What is fluff in this case? It is everything that didn’t get you
elected. Other countries didn’t get you elected, neither did their rulers.
Neither did anything except the hopes of your own people. So, deal with them
before you do anything else. People elected Morsi not only because they loved
him (many didn’t) but because he represented a change from the horrible
dictatorship of Mubarak. If that change is not clearly visible, then it raises
anxiety. By definition, that anxiety will be disproportionate especially with
those who were perhaps anxious in the first place and elected Morsi because
they had no alternative. That means the Christians and Liberals. They need
reassurance. Constant reassurance that their decision was not wrong and that
they picked the right leader who will deliver on his promises and safeguard
their interests.
In such situations, people’s patience, tolerance
and the willingness to take pain, are always in very short supply. In Morsi and
his party’s case, they bore the burden of the negative image of Islam and his
party which was created by the global Islamophobia industry that all Muslims
are the target of, but at a much higher level. Fears arising out of that, no
matter how illogical they may have seemed to Morsi and his supporters, had to
be allayed. Perception is reality, even when it is erroneous. You can’t run
away from it. You must face it and lay it to rest through your visible actions.
As they say about justice, “Not only must it be done, but it must appear to be
done.” This holds true even more in this situation. Solution? Communicate,
communicate, communicate. Morsi didn’t. On the other hand, his government’s
actions fanned the flames and enhanced those fears. The resultant protests and
all that followed was certainly not unexpected, except to those who refused to
see the writing on the wall.
Economic Development. Generate employment. Infrastructure projects,
service projects, education and tourism. I have mentioned these in detail in my
other article quoted above so won’t repeat that here. But basically, give
people something to think about other than politics. Get them off the street
and out of the tea shops and into the workplace where they can earn some money.
This was all doable provided there had been a focus on it. Apart from the aid
from other countries, I have mentioned in my article different ways in which a
government can access funds and resources to generate employment and boost the
economy. Egypt is a resource rich country with a highly capable population. To
make it economically strong is not a difficult task. What has drained is
decades of dictatorship and the corruption that generates. A democratically
elected, clean government was just what the doctor ordered for Egypt. Sadly, it
never took off.
Act with decisiveness. A wrong decision pushed through does less damage
than a right decision that you are tentative and hesitant in implementing.
Morsi’s hardest task was to deal with a military that has gotten used to
ruling. Like Pakistan, where the army runs the show behind the scenes and
political leaders dance to their tune. This was probably the hardest task that
Morsi had; a legacy not to his liking or of his creation, but his
responsibility, nevertheless. What should he have done? I don’t think any
elaboration is necessary. The supremacy of civilian rule needed to be
established and institutionalized in a hostile environment. That needed a level
of wisdom, diplomacy and ruthlessness, which Morsi was not capable of. Like
major life saving surgery, it would have been painful and messy but needed to
be done with decisiveness and speed. That didn’t happen. Maybe Morsi was too
decent a human being for that. Whatever be the reason, the result was the
resurrection of dictatorship.
All that remains is to mourn the passing of a good
man and of the chance of a change of destiny for Egypt. May his memory be
honored, and may others learn lessons so that what he wanted to achieve may one
day be achieved by others. For men die. Not ideas or dreams. Dreams live on in
the hearts of people, to one day emerge and usher in a world that others, like
Morsi died for.
“So, how
did things get so bad?” I am sure you must have heard, asked or thought about
this yourself. So have I. Many times, over the years whenever I saw a
badly-behaved child being fed with the help of an iPad, a spaced-out teenager
who seems lost in his electronic world where Facebook friends are more real to
her than real human ones or when I read reports of rapes and murders being
filmed on smart phones by stupid people. And my instant reaction is, “It was
not like this 40 years ago. What went wrong?” And there would rest the case;
until the next episode. This is 2019 and so when I say, ‘40 years’ we are
talking about two generations; that is the 1980’s. It is not to say that
everything was hunky-dory until 1980 and suddenly in 1981 it all collapsed. But
it is a live demo of the truth of the ‘Boiled Frog Syndrome’.
For the
uninitiated, this has nothing to do with cuisine, but with gradual social
change which suddenly becomes starkly visible, having been unperceived for a
long time before that. The parable is that if you put a frog into a pot of hot
water, it will jump out. But if you put the frog into a pot of water at room
temperature and allow it to get comfortable in it; then you light a fire under
the pot and gradually heat the water, the frog doesn’t register that the water
is getting hotter. It continues to feel comfortable in the water which is
getting hotter and hotter until it reaches a point when it does register that
things are not the same but by then it is too late, and the frog gets boiled.
That is what happens to people and to societies. That is what I believe has
happened to us in India.
Let me do
a flashback to the time that I was growing up, which was in the 60’s and 70’s.
We (me Muslim) lived in a multi-religious society, as we do now, but with a big
difference. Nobody had TV’s or smart phones (we didn’t even have stupid
phones), so our social life was with our friends. We played football and
cricket; yes, really! I mean in the maidan (open field) near our house. We went
to their homes and they came to ours. We participated in their festivals; not
the religious ceremonies, but the fun and games, eats and sweets. And they did
the same with ours. We knew them and their culture and religion, respected it,
understood their boundaries and adhered to them, took an interest in their
culture and they did the same with ours. We spoke about all this because there
was no football or cricket to speak of
and as far as I can recall, (cricket was a 5-day Test Match – a test of
patience for everyone), politics was a given (Panditji was alive after all) and
so there was hardly any discussion about that. We needed people and they needed
us. So, we appreciated each other.
We lived
in joint families, referred to our elders by our relationship with them or an honorific
in keeping with their age. So, it was Dadaji, Amma, Baba, Mataji, Dadiji,
Chachi, Chacha and so on. Hardly anyone was ‘Uncle’ or ‘Aunty’. There were some
but not too many. It was the job of all elders to discipline us, teach us, tell
us stories, guide us in our religious or cultural norms, customs and practices
and when they were doing that, if any of our friends was around, they would get
the benefit of this teaching, no matter which religion they came from. They
listened with respect and so did we. Our culture was distinct from that of
others, but I don’t remember anyone in my family ever referring to the culture
of others in any even remotely derogatory term. I don’t believe that my family
or elders were unique. They were ordinary people of the time. We learnt our
cultural norms, manners, taboos, customs and practices from our environment and
those around us and since we lived in joint families, there were plenty of
those. It didn’t matter that Dad was away at work, Mom was always home and even
if she went anywhere, one or both grandparents, an uncle or aunt or two were
always around to ensure that we ate, slept, were safe, studied, went out and
played and when it was time, prayed. Mom and Dad didn’t need to do these things
exclusively.
We never
ate out because it was considered uncultured to eat in a restaurant. People
asked you, ‘Don’t you have a home?’ If you took a friend out to a restaurant it
meant that he was not close to you or that you didn’t really respect him.
Otherwise you would have brought him home. It was normal to eat at each other’s
homes, no matter that in some cases the food laws are very different and rigid.
But Brahmins, Marwaris, Kayasth and Reddy friends all ate regularly at our place.
When those we knew to be particular about their food laws were coming, strictly
vegetarian food would be cooked. Those that ate meat at our house did that because
they wished to. Nobody forced of even suggested it to them. Once again, this
was not unique. This was the norm. I recall dropping in at the home of my good
friend from school, Gurcharan Singh. I said, “Sat Sri Akal” to his mother
(Mummy), Dad (Dadji), Grandmother (Mataji) and “Hi” to his sister and brothers
and him. They all said, “Come and eat”, as they were having lunch. His mother
said, with a big smile on her face, “Aaloo paratha bana hai. Tujhe pasand hai
na!” because she knew how much I loved it. As I sat down, Guru’s father pointed
to a covered dish and said, “Usay utthay rakh do.” (Put that there; signing to
the sideboard); meaning, take that dish away from the table. Guru jokingly
said, “Dadji koi problem nahin hai. Yawar yahan kha lega.” His father was
distinctly not amused. He said, “Khana hai tho kahin aur ja kar khaye. Ithey
nahin.” (If he wants to eat, let him go and eat somewhere else. Not here.) What
they were talking about was pork vindaloo. I would not have eaten it anyway,
but for them it was not a joking matter. We respected each other’s traditions
and unless someone volunteered to break his own tradition, it was not broken
for him. Some Muslims went to their Hindu and Christian friends to drink
alcohol, but nobody forced them to do it. If they chose to do it, that was
their choice, just as it was the choice of vegetarian Hindus to eat meat in
their Muslim friend’s homes, if they wished. Needless to say, many Hindus are
not vegetarian and eat meat and fish.
Manners
were a very big thing. You never addressed an elder by name. Or even as Mr.
So-and-so. You either called him Uncle So-and-so or just Uncle. Same thing for
the Aunties. If a boy whistled at a girl, anyone older around would simply
thrash him right then and there. You asked permission, said ‘please’ and ‘thank
you’. The role models you looked up to or who were mentioned to you were people
who were known for their honesty, integrity, hard work, compassion; always for
their values. What people owned was not the subject of discussion firstly
because most people owned similar things, drove similar cars (if they drove a
car at all) and lived in similar houses. The differences were not major and it
was considered crass and highly uncivilized to mention money or the price of
anything. If someone asked you how you were, you replied, “Very well
Uncle/Aunty. Thank you.” You didn’t say, “I’m good”, because that is first of
all, not the right answer because the person was not asking about your moral
condition but your physical well-being and secondly because we thought it was
their job to tell us if we were good or bad. Not ours to announce.
Money was
in short supply though we never wanted for anything. We wore each other’s
handed down clothes. We wore shoes until they became holey. Our clothes were
hand-made to measure because that was the cheapest option. Readymade clothes
were expensive and jeans you only saw in pictures. Pocket money was unheard of.
You got money for the bus fare to school and that was it. Whatever else you
needed had to have a reason behind it, and “I want it” was not a reason. We
lived in bungalows on large plots of land because our parents had inherited
them from their parents. We didn’t go on holidays and looked very enviously at
those very few who went to Ooty for two weeks every summer so that they could
return to Hyderabad’s heat and appreciate it better. But then, at that time you
wore a sweater from November to February and the swimming pool (Public Swimming
Pool in Fateh Maidan – does it even exist anymore – where Jeelani Pairak was
the coach) only opened its doors in the middle of March because it was too cold
to swim before that.
There
were all of four career choices, medicine, engineering (mechanical or civil),
Civil Service or Army. You picked one or if you didn’t, it was thrust upon you
for all kinds of reasons out of your control and then you studied for the
exams. When you got 80% you got presents and gave a party. If you got 90%
people thought that you had cheated. Life was simple, uncomplicated and moved
on at its own pace.
Then came
the 80’s. TV came on the scene with its soaps, serials and news. The world
suddenly opened. Education changed. Multiple disciplines became available to
study leading to hitherto unheard-of career options. The Middle East opened up
for jobs, so did America and Canada. Young people left to make their fortunes.
In some cases, the wives and children remained behind. In most other cases, it
was only the elderly parents who saw off their children at the airport to
return to empty houses and loneliness. All in the name of money. Thanks to
repatriation of funds and the effect of the TV, suddenly money was easy and
material things, appliances, clothes, cars, motorcycles, all became affordable.
Rapidly these became not only nice to have but grounds for competition with
neighbors, friends and strangers. Suddenly we discovered that our neighbor’s
name was Jones and we had to compete with them (Keeping up with the Joneses).
The 80’s
sound like ancient history today in 2019 going on the magic number 2020. What
do we have today? Hatred. We hate each other and that sells, that gets you
elected, that gets you followers, it is chic, it is fashionable, and it works. It
is most preferable to hate Muslims, but anyone else will also do, if there are
no Muslims around. As long as you hate. That is the only thing that counts. So,
our world has shrunk. We meet people like ourselves, who talk like we do, eat what
we eat, like what we like and dislike what we dislike. We hate the same people and
in each other’s rhetoric, we find solace.
We live in our echo chamber and that has become our world. There are those
among us who were born in this echo chamber. They don’t know anything else. But
there are those who were born and lived in a world that was very different from
this one. A world where there were no echo chambers, like there were no mobile
phones, laptops, social media and even television. A world that was real. Today
in our echo chamber, we sometimes ask ourselves this question, “What happened
to that world?” Then we correct ourselves and ask, “What did we do to it?”
