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Naval Tata's
life had space for big business, labour relations, sports
administration, charity endeavours and a load of laughs.
His heart had room for all that is good about human
nature
The god of kindness must have
played midwife when Naval Hormusji Tata was born on an
August day in 1904. Over the next 85 years, across a life
that embraced big business, labour relations, sports administration
and charity endeavours, Naval stuck a chord of benignity
with all whom destiny placed in his path. Bar a roaring
sense of humour, everything about him was enveloped in
a gentle wind of humility, sympathy and tolerance.
Naval was as much the public
face of the Tatas as JRD Tata. Born in the same year,
their professional careers followed parallel lines.
They shared a passion for the group and an unwavering
commitment to its ideals. Personally, though, they were
quite different. Where JRD was a somewhat reserved and
shy figure, short of fuse in the face of foolishness
and pretension, Naval was a gregarious soul who could
get along with all manner of people, as forgiving of
human frailties as he was accepting of life's vicissitudes.
The group and the family represented
two sides of the same coin for Naval, who considered
them inseparable entities wedded to a virtuous cause.
He had an empathy for the poor that probably sprung
from a childhood shorn of privilege. Naval, who lost
his father as a kid, was studying at an orphanage when
he was adopted, at age 13, by Lady Ratan Tata, the wife
of Sir Ratan Tata, the second of Jamsetji Tata's two
sons (Lady Tata was apparently bowled over when Naval,
spiffed up in a sailor's suit, saluted her at their
first meeting).
Naval would say of his adoption
that it was as if someone had waved a magic wand and
a fairy godmother had appeared. "I am grateful
to God for giving me an opportunity to experience the
pangs of poverty, which, more than anything else, moulded
my character," he once averred.
Providence may have played a
part in catapulting Naval to affluence, but his achievements
owed nothing to chance. He graduated from Bombay University
and did an accounting course in England before joining
the Tata Group in 1930. Three years later he was made
secretary of its aviation department. He was appointed
the managing director of the group's textile companies
in 1939 and became a director of Tata Sons, the core
enterprise of the conglomerate, in 1941. He was appointed
chairman of Tata Electric Companies (now Tata Power)
in 1961 and deputy chairman of Tata Sons a year later.
Beyond the business sphere, Naval
was closely associated with the Tata charities and served
as chairman of the Sir Ratan Tata Trust from 1965 to
the time of his passing. Besides, he was the chairman
of the Indian Cancer Society from its inception in 1951
right up to 1989. Naval proved his mettle as a sports
administrator during an outstanding stint as president
of the Indian Hockey Federation from 1946 to 1961. He
was the first president of the All India Council for
Sports and also served as vice chairman of the International
Hockey Federation, the game's governing body, for more
than a decade.
Naval's most valuable contribution
outside of business, though, was in the domain of labour
relations. For more than four decades he provided a
voice of reason, consideration and conciliation to national
and international organisations working to reduce and
resolve employer-employee frictions. This was period,
especially in India, during which relations between
workers and their managements were corrupted by political
and economic factors. Naval's inherent honesty, his
concern for the working class, and his ability to bridge
diverse points of view helped diffuse many volatile
situations, while bringing clarity to issues of universal
importance.
Naval's first serious brush with
labour relations as a subject outside the factory floor
happened in 1946, when he was nominated to represent
the Indian textile industry at a meeting of the Geneva-based
International Labour Organisation (ILO). He became a
part of the ILO's governing body in 1951 and continued
in the post till his demise in 1989. He was a member
of the International Organisation of Employers, also
based in Geneva, for 38 years and was the president
of the Employers' Federation of India from 1959 to 1985.
Naval was the driving force behind the setting up of
the National Institute of Labour Management (now known
as the National Institute of Personnel Management),
serving as its president from 1951 to 1980.
In an industrial climate vitiated
by seriously flawed political philosophies, undermined
by a governmental outlook that saw the entire entrepreneurial
class as exploiters, and compromised by lopsided laws
that encouraged irresponsible trade unionism, Naval
worked overtime to mend and heal. It was an exceptional
task, and ordinarily one that would have been made more
difficult by Naval's own credentials as a scion of one
of India's foremost business families. That his lineage
and position did not become a liability can be put down
to Naval's remarkable qualities as a human being.
"He had this tremendous
capacity to jell with people from different walks of
life," recalls well-known industrialist Keshub
Mahindra. "Naval believed in responsible negotiations
between employers, workers and governments in the common
search for equitable solutions. He was probably the
only businessman that labour respected and had confidence
in. Part of this was due to his ability to get along
with them, but it also had something to do with the
fact that he was a superb listener." Naval was
an employer who always regarded himself as a trustee
of the rights and interests of workers, especially those
in the unorganised sector.
Like JRD, Naval had an essential
decency that was immediately visible even to those who
had only a passing acquaintance with him. There wasn't
a trace of arrogance in him, which explains why he could
relate so easily to workers. He would bond with them
through anecdotes and stories, some of which he made
up as he went along. One of his favourites went thus:
A supervisor finds one of his shop-floor workers missing
from his station for close to an hour. "Where have
you been?" he asks the man when he saunters in
at last. "Sir, I went for a haircut," the
worker replies. "You went to cut your hair on my
time?" the livid supervisor thunders. "What
to do, sir, it grew on your time."
Apart from a raconteur's knack
of telling a telling tale, Naval possessed, in the words
of one of his friends, "an unstoppable sense of
humour". He unleashed this gift on all occasions
and in every sort of company; the more stuffy the gathering,
the more likely Naval would unload a gem.
He also had formidable diplomatic
skills. Old hands at the ILO remember Naval's calming
influence and wisdom as being crucial in preventing
many a potentially damaging situation from coming to
a head. Naval's ILO innings roughly coincided with the
Cold War era, which pitted the erstwhile Soviet bloc
against the so-called free world. India and, by extension,
its representatives on bodies such as the ILO
Naval and people like him had to frequently walk
a delicate line in matters of policy and their formulation.
Naval emerged from these confrontations with his reputation
enhanced. He brought the same set of skills to the table
in his capacity as a representative of the Tatas while
negotiating with the government in the 'permit raj'
age of perennial controls and regulations.
Indian hockey was another beneficiary
of Naval's capabilities. He was the administrative head
of the game in India when the country won gold in three
successive Olympics. India's participation in the first
of these, the London Olympics of 1948, was in doubt
till the last minute for financial reasons. Naval met
Jawaharlal Nehru and somehow convinced him that it was
in newly independent India's interest to have her hockey
team take on the world.
Nehru's backing ensured the team's
passage to London, but the prime minister, like many
Indians then, appears to have been spoiled in later
years by the continuous success of the country's hockey
heroes. After India had retained the gold at the Helsinki
Games in 1952 through a narrow 1-0 victory over Pakistan,
Nehru expressed his disappointment to Naval at the team
not having won by a 'tennis score'! "Naval, is
our standard going down?" he asked. "No, sir,"
Naval replied, "the standard of other countries
is going up." Talk about portends of the future.
This wonderful stretch of success,
powered by players such as RS Gentle and Leslie Claudius,
was in some part thanks to the support guaranteed to
Indian sport by the Tata Sports Club, which Naval nursed
with affection and competence for close to 50 years.
His espousal of the cause of Indian sport, through the
Club and similar forums, helped a host of Indian athletes
realise their dreams.
Between his love of sports, his
obligations in labour relations and his responsibilities
as a business leader, Naval squeezed in time for a one-off
excursion into mainstream politics, contesting as an
independent in the Lok Sabha elections of 1971. The
constituency was Bombay South and his competition included
George Fernandes, who had wrested the seat from the
redoubtable SK Patil in the previous election, and N.
N. Kailas of the Indira Congress. The media had a field
day as Fernandes, dubbed the giant-killer after his
stunning victory over Patil, and Naval, 'the giant of
industry', slugged it out, with all the masala
of a high-profile Indian election to spice up the battle.
In the event, both were thumped
by Kailas, a one-time wonder who coasted home the winner
on the 'Indira wave' let loose by the Bangladesh war.
Naval, who finished a credible third, had set out on
the political path to prove that honest people could
and should contest elections. He made his point, but
he obviously did not relish the experience enough to
have another go at political campaigning.
Electricity-generation held much
more allure for Naval than electioneering. Under his
stewardship Tata Power increased its capacities and
reach, despite being entangled in bureaucratic delays
of multiple kinds. His unstinting determination held
the key to the company's expansion in India and, in
a limited way, abroad. The efficiency and reliability
factor now taken for granted by Tata Power consumers
in Bombay owes a lot to Naval's vision and his pursuit
of business excellence.
Naval symbolised all that is
best of the Tata spirit of giving back to society and
the communities in which its enterprises grow. His caring
and endearing nature, his abiding concern for those
as poor as he once was, his love of a good laugh, and
his instinct to trust even those not worthy of it made
him one of a kind. If the Tata story is ever told from
the heart, he will rank among the most loved of them
all.
Uploaded on August 30, 2004
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