Tullying tactics

Long respected for his unbiased reporting for the BBC in South Asia, Mark Tully, the Voice of India, says he was just too lazy to take a post back in the UK. He tells Nilima Pathak why he has made India his home.

Mark Tully is a legendary former radio correspondent whose name is still synonymous with the British Broadcasting Corporation (BBC) in South Asia.

For more than three decades (1964-1997) his broadcasts in English, Urdu, Hindi and Bengali reached over a billion people on the subcontinent via short-wave radio.

Known as the Voice of India for his thought-provoking insights into the life of the Indians, he was a BBC man who knew the psyche of the Indian audience. He gained a reputation for championing the truth, an attribute that made him highly respected by listeners.

Tully was often the first to file a report, long before the government media did so. With its reputation for accurate reporting, many Indians considered the BBC the best way
to find out what was really happening in their country. Thus it became the first choice ahead of state-controlled All India Radio.

From Kashmir to Kanyakumari, the transistor revolution in India during the 1960s and 1970s made Tully a household name and the most famous foreign journalist of his time. No matter which foreign correspondent visited remote Indian villages, people excitedly demanded to know if he was Mark Tully.

"People still come and ask me, 'Are you Mark Tully BBC'?" Tully says.

"I have to tell them I'm Mark Tully, but I'm not BBC!"

Born on October 24, 1935, in Kolkata, Tully lived in a large mansion in Regents Park, Tollygunge. From 1940 to 1944, he studied in the New School, a boarding school in Darjeeling, which operated during the Second World War for children who did not return to Britain.

His father, William Tully, although born in England, came to India and worked in Kolkata as an accountant with Gillanders Arbuthnot, a managing agency that was responsible for running a lot of companies, including the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, coalmines, buildings and banks.

"My father had raised money for the Howrah Bridge, which was built in the 1940s," Tully says.

His mother, Patience, died last year at the age of 93. "A beautiful human being, she was born in Bangladesh and her family had been associated with India for four generations. Today, if I look back and say that I didn't like India, it would mean I have wasted
my life," he says.

In 1945, the family returned to England, where Tully joined Twyflrd School in Manchester. Later, he went to Marlborough, a public school, and then to Trinity Hall in Cambridge. From 1954 to 1956, Tully served in the British Army in Germany as an officer in the Cavalry.

In 1958, he decided to become a priest in the Church of England.

"I joined the Lincoln Theological College, but abandoned it after two semesters. Being a priest meant living life in a certain way, which I found difficult ... my tutor, Robert Runcie, who later became the Archbishop of Canterbury, asked me to reconsider my future," Tully says.

He was directed to a non-governmental organisation that involved working with the elderly. Tully worked with the NGO in the UK from 1959 to 1963 and loved being there. But after some time its founder, who had hired him, left. When the other officials wanted to run it in a more commercial manner, Tully resigned.

Entering radio
He began his career with the BBC in 1964, getting a job in the personnel department. On the day of his recruitment, the chief of the personnel department gave Tully some advice he'd never forget. "It's clever to get in(to) the BBC but I'll tell you it's cleverer to get out of it," he told him.

Tully was quite happy there but seven years later, at the first opportunity when the BBC World Service wanted someone to report from India, he applied for the post and became a correspondent.

"On returning to India, my childhood came back to me. The familiar smells of the country overwhelmed me," he says. "In fact, I'm grateful to (the) BBC because through them I was introduced to India."

Yet he says that he considered leaving India several times - especially when he was irritated by bureaucracy or stuck in a crawling traffic jam.

"But my love for the country was stronger than the situations I had to overcome. In 1988, I was offered a job in (the) BBC's London office. But my reflexes told me to stay back. I guess it all happened because I was never very ambitious. On the contrary, I feel I am lazy," he says.

The appearance of satellite television in the 1990s marked the end of radio's glory days. As the BBC evolved, Tully challenged the management culture promoted by John Birt, who headed Bush House, the BBC headquarters at the time.

Tully argued that World Service Television and Radio must be autonomous and not become add-ons to domestic services if it wanted to continue to be heard around the world. He delivered a speech criticising the changes. Soon after, he says he was told to stay quiet if he wanted to stay on. This led to Tully's resignation in 1997.

"To leave the organisation was painful for me. But today I am glad (I did it) as I wanted to stand as Mark Tully and not necessarily with a BBC tag hung around my neck," he says.

During his time with the BBC, Tully covered every imaginable disaster, natural and man-made, in South Asia. The celebrated stories, the scoops, the hard-hitting headlines, the revealing interviews established him as a high-calibre journalist.

He covered the imposition of Emergency in India, Operation Bluestar (to tackle terrorism) in Punjab, Indira Gandhi's assassination, militancy in Kashmir and the horrific aftermath of the Bhopal disaster (when poisonous gas leaked from the Union Carbide plant killing close to 20,000 people to date).

"During the Emergency, I was asked to leave India as (the) BBC refused to sign the censorship certificate. And in 1993 during the Babri Masjid demolition, I was locked up in a room in a temple with some Indian journalists. After some time, while they were set free, I was not. Finally, an official sent a message asking for my release," he recalls.

He also remebers an incident which he still regrets. "I mistreated an interview. I made someone give me a very long interview and we used not even half a minute of it. The interviewee had said, 'There was corruption ...' and we used just that. It was related to Bangladesh. I know I should have protested then."

Yet, even after quitting the BBC, he continued to do freelance assignments for it. He organises, writes and presents a programme, Something Understood, for BBC Radio on Sunday mornings. He is also writing a book on how India has changed him.

Tully is the only correspondent who received honours from both India and Britain. He received the Order of the British Empire in 1985, a Padma Shree in 1992 and became a Knight of the British Empire in 2002.

Over to Mark Tully, at his modest apartment in Nizamuddin East, New Delhi.

I
I love the friendliness of the people of India, especially in Delhi, which I find rich in many ways. People are so warm here.

I would like it if Indians spoke to me in Hindi. Otherwise, how will I learn Hindi? But then, this is the problem with this country. People don't respect their own language. I can speak fairly good Hindi, but when people meet me, they speak to me in English.

I have always relished chhole-bhature, aloo tikki and samosas at roadside eateries. I am fond of Indian snacks and reasonably spicy food. My work has often led to travelling and eating at dhabas. And most times I have preferred egg parathas with yoghurt and chutney along with hot, sweet tea for breakfast. Other favourites are makki ki roti and sarson ka saag.

I do some cooking ... even though am not very good at it. Not one to run around places trying different cuisines, I feel a lot that passes for ethnic food is bad. Similarly, I rarely have a meal in the so-called European restaurants in India. I believe the best food is cooked at home.

I believe in God and also fate. But I am not very saintly. My affinity (with) India has much to do with my religious beliefs. Life is a balance between fate and free will. It is like a pack of cards. It depends on how you play your cards. But you can't do away with them and say we'll play again.

I am often misunderstood, as I go against the popular opinion ... I say things I believe in and not what everyone believes in.

I got along well with some prime ministers of India. I found Indira Gandhi to be a very determined lady who could be both charming and frosty. Her son, (former prime minister) Rajiv (Gandhi), was also very affable. He used to meet a group of us and was critical of people surrounding his mother.

He wanted to make changes and talked a lot about modernising. I was fond of (former prime minister) Morarji Desai and admired his sense of humour. Another prime minister I admired immensely was Narasimha Rao. He was extremely intelligent and modest.

I have always believed there's more to a story than just the hard facts. Journalism worldwide needs to get bolder and more action-oriented.

I goofed once when I described the army chief of Bangladesh as "not a fit man" - meaning that he had health problems. This was true. But it was taken to mean that he was probably not suitable for the position. It was an unfortunate phrasing on my part.

ME
Me and India:
To me, India means home. I have been here for so long that I do not like going to any other place, even on a vacation. I am fascinated by the Indian philosophy and the variety of thought patterns. Living in Delhi for more than three decades, the sights and sounds of the city have become an integral part of my being.

Me and my first assignment:
I had just turned 28 ... and it was a breakfast interview with the Maharaja of Bharatpur at his palace in Sohna, Gurgaon, in 1965. The maharaja sponsored The Statesman vintage car rally, which I had to cover.

Me and holidays:
My idea of a holiday (spot requires) that the place have beautiful surroundings. I have travelled the length and breadth of the country and yet there is a lot that I have not seen in India. I take a break for two weeks once or twice a year.

And my plans are never elaborate. I prefer going to places that are quiet and peaceful. There are so many exotic destinations in India, including Ajanta-Ellora, Mandi, Chail, Corbett, Goa and Darjeeling.

While on vacation, I love to read and go for long leisure walks. I also love exploring the jungles. To me, holidaying abroad means going to Ireland or England ... nowhere else.

Me and my passion for steam engines:
I am vice-president of the Indian Steam Railway Society and since my father was the Director of the Darjeeling Himalayan Railway, I am on the board of the Darjeeling Foundation.

Me and my family:
My wife, Margaret, stays in London with our two sons and daughters (Patrick, Sam, Sarah and Emma).

In Delhi, Gillian Wright has been my companion for the last 24 years. Born in the UK in 1957, after studying at the School of Oriental and African Studies of London University, she received a first class degree in South Asian Studies and majored in Hindi and  Urdu from the University of London.

Gillian was with the BBC World Service in London and came to India in 1977 to join the Delhi office of the BBC. She has worked as a researcher on several radio and television programmes and translated Indian language fiction into English.

She has also authored a number of books on Indian wildlife, history and politics, including Birds of India, Bangladesh, Pakistan and Sri Lanka (1993), The Odyssey Illustrated Guide to Sri Lanka (1993) and Sri Lanka: Our World in Colour (1998).

To collect the necessary material for An Introduction to the Hill Stations of India (1991), the very first guide to the hill stations, she travelled the mountain ranges of the subcontinent.

She co-authored India in Slow Motion (2002) with me and has collaborated with me on a number of books, including Mrs Gandhi's Last Battle (1985), No Full Stops in India (1991) and Heart of India (1996).

MYSELF
Our knowledge can only be finite, while our ignorance is most necessarily infinite.

Comment
Our knowledge is finite and it is very important to realise the limits of our knowledge. It is also imperative to think about infinity. We should understand we cannot expect to know in full. I do a programme for (the) BBC called Something Understood.

It is called so because the theme of the programme is such that we talk about things which we can understand in part, not completely.

Why does the fear of being ourselves bring us to the mirror?
Because we are continually looking at ourselves and worrying about what we are. If we look at it in physical terms, when people continually go to the mirror, they look to see whether they have dark circles under the eyes, are they losing hair, are they going grey?

Meaning: what actually is happening to them? Actually, all great philosophies and religions teach us to know ourselves. And if we know ourselves, acknowledge our strengths and weaknesses, we will not spend time looking into the mirror.

Why are most people partial towards their own observations?
We have a tendency to believe that we are right. (But) the Indian tradition is that we should not be prone to thinking that we are always correct.

We should be open to discussions on anything, even if someone were to disagree with us.
But it should be a discussion, not a fight. Both sides should listen and learn from each other.

That is why I deplore so much of modern journalism ... because it is all about getting people to fight, rather than to discuss. And that's why I think it's appalling to have a programme on television called The Big Fight, because nobody learns anything from fighting.

It is wise to appear less clever than one is?
It is certainly not a good idea to appear cleverer than one is because one will be caught. One should be oneself. That way one can at least say what one understands and,
at the same time, be open to what others say.

In life, would you prefer to be curious or satisfied?
We need to have curiosity and also be satisfied. There is nothing worse than someone who is satisfied with nothing or someone who's always curious and searching. What is required is a balance - about which I have learnt a lot in India.

It's a balance between change and tradition. There are things one is anxious and curious about, and it's right to be knowledgeable about them, but there is no need to be swept off your feet (by any incident).

Power doesn't have to show off.

When you have it, you know it. I don't know because I don't like power. And I don't like people who think they have got power.

Do you agree that when two people argue over principles, both are right?
I would say probably both are partly right and partly wrong. And the point is there should not be an argument, but discussion. And they should see if together they are able to sort out the differences.

A journalist is stimulated by a deadline. He writes worse when he has time.

It's true to some extent. Especially nowadays, (generally) with computers there is a tendency to go on and on. When I did journalism with (the) BBC, I did it in the best of time frames and didn't mess around.