Review of ‘A Statesman And A Seeker: The Extraordinary Life And Legacy of Dr Karan Singh’

When someone is raised in an antagonistic environment, they become wary of things very early on in life. We tend to guard ourselves with history. It shapes the way we build our politics, relationships and trust in life. Thus the struggle continues, but by changing its form. While the Kashmiri in me was averse to picking up Karan Singh’s biography, A Statesman and a Seeker (Speaking Tiger) by Harbans Singh, my training in social sciences made me scour its pages. That wariness, I found, was justified. We see similar accounts of inherited loyalties conflicting with individual conviction in the book itself.

The biography traces the life of Karan Singh; from his inescapable fate of being born in royalty to becoming the “youngest vice chancellor in the history of the world”. His political efficacy coupled with the inherited royalty is used to govern the state. The book attempts to understand the life of a waning prince holding on to a democratic conviction.

Harbans Singh writes, “Over the years, he says, he has realised that saving the world from falling into the abyss is not as simple a task as it appeared in those youthful years. Extreme positions come easily to people”. Karan Singh's life is shaped by these extreme positions, be it during his tenure as Regent or his tenure as the only Sadr-e-Riyasat. It didn’t restrict itself to his political endeavors but also extended to his personal life. Hailing from the Dogra dynasty, he was fated to have a public life like his father, Maharaja Hari Singh. In contrast to the extravagant life of his father, Karan Singh was believed to be something of a sensible and rooted heir. The book reflects on the complex relationship of the father-son duo and how it becomes a critical juncture for the region of Jammu and Kashmir (J&K).

During the days of the British Raj, the birth of an heir was long-coveted by the Dogra empire, primarily to secure its footing in the princely state of J&K. The tumultuous atmosphere in the princely state hardly affected the early years of the prince; however, it certainly coloured his views once he gained political awareness. By virtue of his legacy, he was entrusted with the responsibility to uphold the dwindling glory of the Dogras. Harbans Singh provides us with a detailed trajectory of his premature entry in politics. However, this headstart wouldn't have been possible without the rigorous training he went through in his early years. Also, his successful oeuvre as a political leader cannot be decoupled from the trauma he suffered. It worked as an advantage in shaping him; the separation from his mother and the life-threatening health complications.

The book is a provocative, insightful and introspective portrait of a man who stands firm in his dharma in the face of adversaries. It credits him with an impeccable resolve within some of the highest offices in the country while keeping his integrity intact not just politically but spiritually as well. He served in many offices; however the innate spiritual energy inherited from his mother kept him rooted to his religion, Hinduism. The narrative presents a life filled with intellectual curiosity, spiritual zeal and communitarianism. The attitude towards learning and welfarism is what drives him to strive better at his age.

The first half of the book, without stating it outright, traces the regard he had for Jawaharlal Nehru—to the extent that he set aside his father's wishes for him. The admiration likely stemmed from their shared interests in a variety of things; most importantly, having Kashmir's best interests at heart.

As he sought national office, his attention shifted to other issues of national importance; however, he didn't remain oblivious to the condition of Kashmir and actively tried to mediate among the stakeholders. The book captures the essence of the transitional phase in Indian politics. “Even the most formidable are undone by a slight twist of fate.” The biography shows him witnessing the downfall of the political stalwarts at a close range. This left him with a clear lesson: glory is never permanent and every rise carries its own dusk. He was caught in the crosshairs while negotiating for Kashmir, but he didn't let his opposition get the best of him because of his erudite and composed attitude. Similarly, in the growing fervour against the Indira Gandhi government, his clarity of thought helped him identify the ideology disseminated by the Bharatiya Janata Party and the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh. The book attributes to him the clarity to critique, analyse and see through their agenda.

While Harbans Singh’s account is largely oriented towards Karan Singh’s political arc, it doesn't ignore the parts of his life that shaped him as a human being—his family among them. You get to read about his 60-year marriage, marked by exemplary companionship, along with his equally active role in raising their three children, which is rare in accounts of public figures. Even while holding ministerial office, he cultivated tolerance for dissent at home—not merely tolerating it, but actively encouraging it.

The book offers a unique perspective on the politics and history of J& K. However, I found the account to be callous, indifferent and detached from the people. The narrative seems constantly fixated on the power struggle between two opposing political ideologues. It fails to show the credence between the ruler and the subjects except for when the Maharani (Karan's mother) provides relief to the people in 1947. The lack of rapport with the people is persistent. A compassionate tone is used while addressing the Jammuwasi, which seems to be absent in the case of Kashmiris. It felt as though it was more fixated on censuring the contemporary political rival of his father, Sheikh Abdullah. Public memory remembers Sheikh in a different light than how he is presented in the book. A clear rivalry is showcased that is beyond one's political beliefs and stems from a personal bias and loss. Those who haven't known Abdullah could end up thinking of him as a character similar to the fictitious Marvel villain, Thanos. The book doesn't miss an opportunity to nitpick the political decisions made by Sheikh, to paint him a dark and an authoritarian figure.

It also underplays the role of Dogras in committing years of atrocities, rather, it bolsters its archaic glory to create a diversion. In addition to this, Karan Singh’s relationship with his father remains ambiguous, it hints at a complicated and painful part of his life—one whose psychological weight he himself seems reluctant to confront.

Harbans Singh structures the narrative of his subject’s life in a balanced manner. Each chapter stands independently, yet, segues into the next through a strong closing assertion, creating a smooth domino effect throughout the book. However, the structural harmony does not always extend to the political one, thus creating a rift between the form and the perspective.

(Aleezah Qadir is a Delhi-based social sciences graduate from Jamia Millia Islamia. She writes on South Asian politics, history and society, and has a keen interest in world cinema)