A dear friend and colleague from across the border reflects on the personality, career, and methods of Mani Shankar Aiyar, an Indian politician and former diplomat.
I recently received a copy of Mani Shankar Aiyar’s latest book, Memoirs of a Maverick, with a heartfelt inscription that read, “To Khurshid, in remembrance of six decades of friendship.” Our friendship goes back even further, spanning six decades plus two years. In fact, in 2011, we were both honored by Trinity Hall, Cambridge, our alma mater, to speak at the ‘Class Reunion’ on the Pakistan-India peace process.
Mani’s memoir covers the first 50 years of his life, but I have no doubt that he will eventually write about the next three decades of his eventful life as well. These three decades include the time when we were both cabinet ministers in our respective countries, working together to improve relations between Pakistan and India.
When I first met Mani, I was struck by the volume of his voice, which seemed disproportionate to the size of his body. Later on, I realized that the resonance in his voice was a reflection of the clarity of his thoughts and the strength of his conscience.
In his book, Mani reflects on our first meeting in Cambridge and humorously recalls how he had no idea that he was sharing his first meal at the university with the man who would later become the best foreign minister Pakistan has ever had. This remark may have stirred controversy, but it is a testament to Mani’s candid nature.
Throughout our friendship, I always felt a friendly competition between us regarding who would become the foreign minister first. As fate would have it, while I became the foreign minister of Pakistan, Mani served as India’s petroleum minister.
In my opinion, Mani should have held the post of India’s foreign minister. His deep understanding of international relations, gained from his transition from the foreign service to electoral politics, coupled with his empathy and knowledge of Pakistan-India relations, would have made him India’s finest foreign minister.
However, Mani’s outspoken nature and sharp wit often landed him in trouble. He writes about our bond and the amusing fact that I had never met a Hindu before, to which I jokingly responded that he had picked a poor example. I should clarify that my statement was not meant to imply that I had not interacted with Hindus before, as my father had many Hindu clients and colleagues. Rather, I had not met a Hindu of my own age with whom I could personally engage.
Mani’s frankness, honesty, and courage have been evident throughout his life. He candidly shares the story of his parents’ disastrous wedding and has courted controversy even before joining the foreign service.
Despite facing allegations of being a member of the Communist Party in Britain, Mani promptly refuted this claim, stating that he could not have been a member as he was not a British citizen. His connections and the endorsement of Prime Minister Nehru himself eventually paved the way for him to join the Indian Foreign Service under Nehru’s personal signature.
Mani’s courage as a politician is exceptional. Politicians worldwide tend to prioritize self-interest and rarely speak out against the dominant leader. This is even more true in South Asia.
During my tenure as foreign minister, I sought to improve relations between Pakistan and India through various means. I was particularly keen on enhancing oil and gas connectivity between our countries, with the vision of pipelines of peace such as the Iran-Pakistan-India gas pipeline and TAPI. Mani, as India’s petroleum minister, shared my enthusiasm for these projects.
However, the American government objected to these initiatives, leading India’s Prime Minister Manmohan Singh to label the projects as unbankable. As Mani’s stance differed from that of his own prime minister, he lost his job but remained in the cabinet, holding other portfolios.
Mani and I share similar challenges. Although he is more rash than I am, he has not faced imprisonment like I have during Zulfikar Ali Bhutto’s tenure and General Zia ul-Haq’s rule. Understanding the role of the Pakistan Army comes naturally to Mani, given his background as a former foreign service officer and his extensive reading and writing on the Pakistani psyche.
In the course of discussing the Kashmir issue over a span of five years, I found the inputs from the Pakistani army leadership to be reasonable, informed, and dedicated to finding a solution. However, it is crucial to clarify that the role of the government as an institution is critical in high-level decisions involving both civilian and military elements.
Politicians in Pakistan have always advocated good relations with India during their time in office. This sentiment extends to politicians in India as well, as I have observed over the years. Mani’s speeches frequently acknowledge this fact. I am certain that when he records his experiences from 1991 to the present, he will shed light on this with great clarity.
Mani’s sense of humor is remarkable, often landing him in humorous or peculiar situations. For instance, he narrated a story about Natwar Singh, my former counterpart from India. Natwar Singh and I worked together to improve relations between our countries, and I always enjoyed his company.
Mani shared that they both attended the same college, St. Stephen’s College, albeit a decade apart. According to Mani, Natwar Singh wrote in the college guest register, “I am what I am today because of St. Stephen’s.” To this, Mani cheekily remarked, “Why blame the college?”
Mani’s sense of humor also revealed itself when I sought his advice on whether I should visit Bombay (now Mumbai) for the launch of my book, despite threats from the Shiv Sena party. His response to me was to go ahead with the visit, as he anticipated no danger to my person. However, he later admitted that he himself had faced similar threats and required police protection. This interaction with Mani proved adventurous, and his initial advice turned out to be right.
Mani addresses an important question in his book, asking whether Pakistan is an “enemy” country. He reflects on his three years as Consul General in Karachi, where he encountered Pakistani public opinion and found a strong desire among many Pakistanis to see differences with India settled. He emphasizes that Pakistanis, across various sections of society, share a willingness for peace and do not harbor a warmongering attitude.
Indeed, there is goodwill towards India among the average Pakistani, which is often overlooked. This goodwill should be tapped into to promote better relations between our countries. Unfortunately, governments often sacrifice people-to-people interactions, such as visas, trade, tourism, and cultural exchanges, in times of tense relations.
Mani advocates for an uninterrupted and uninterruptible peace process, as any disruption turns the dialogue into a game of snakes and ladders. He correctly points out that sustaining distrust between governments is easier than building trust between people.
I share Mani’s view that positive people-to-people interactions can make the Pakistan-India relationship more predictable and less crisis-prone. Both our countries face common challenges, such as climate change, that require collective action. It is imperative that we take advantage of the similarities between our cultures and work towards a more peaceful and cooperative future.
To conclude, Mani Shankar Aiyar is a courageous, outspoken politician who has consistently advocated for improved relations between Pakistan and India. His insights, experiences, and sense of humor offer valuable insights into the complexities of our relationship. It is my hope that his memoirs inspire others to promote peace and understanding between our two nations.