Racism against the rich

Indian billionaire Vijay Mallya is not the failure he is made out to be; he is a success that has failed once.

What tells Pakistani billionaire Shahid Khan apart from Indian billionaire Vijay Mallya? Khan is lucky, not only because of being on Forbes list of 400 richest but because he made it in the United States where he can speak about fighting against all odds. He has recently talked about how racist comments of “sand monkey” and “terrorist from Pakistan” spurred him on to succeed.

He also took the CBS crew to his hometown of Lahore and, in what can best be described as a Slumdog moment, said: “See how hard things are? Power’s going out, it’s 108 degrees. It’s tough. I think the biggest impediment here is that hope, getting to the next stage, it doesn’t matter how hard you work, there are forces that kind of prevent you from being the best you can be.”

What he missed out, probably because he has not experienced it, are the racist ‘attacks’ on the rich. I use the term racist in a broad sense of anti-elitist apartheid. Today, it is travesty to compare the two gentlemen, but bring Khan back to Pakistan, let him fail at just one thing and the same people who would have partaken of his magnanimity would disappear. The silence of the wolves.

This is happening with Mallya, a man who poses with girls in bikinis, brings out the famous swimsuit calendars which many people would like to have on their walls, parties in his yacht, jets in his private carrier, part owns a car racing team and owns horses. No one ever had a problem with any of these, until his Kingfisher Airline started losing ground. He hasn’t paid his staff. He owes money to banks. He let down his shareholders. He is, according to ancient Indian wisdom, a sinner who needs to do penance instead of attending the Grand Prix, which he is, to a great extent, responsible for making popular in India. Interestingly, he is not pulled up for donating some more gold for a temple door during this same period of  ‘mourning’.

He is absolutely answerable to the government, the ministry of aviation, shareholders, the staff, and, to an extent, his loyal clientele. I am setting aside all the technical, legal and contractual issues for now.

Mallya is not the failure he is made out to be; he is a success that has failed once. This is not just his misfortune, but of how we view wealth in our society. On a flight to Delhi, as his image appeared on screen, the scion of an industrial house sitting next to me said, “This man is amazing. But the best way to fail is to start an airline.” This was in 2007. Kingfisher’s staff loved being part of the Midas Mallya empire.

Did everything he touch turn into gold? He wasn’t a self-made man. That is the problem. Most self-made men are propped up by several factors. Ambition cannot exist in a vacuum, or every person selling lemonade would be lauded. Dhirubhai Ambani had to fix deals, buy people at the very top. He did not benefit from the Licence Permit Raj; he engineered it.

Shahid Khan did not inherit money. His success cannot be reduced at the altar of racism, which he dealt with an “it’s not really my problem, it’s their problem” attitude. But it is time to call out our own ‘brownies’ who earn points over those better off than them with a flick of self-righteousness.

Almost all big industries are legacies; most of them have been in cahoots with the powers that rule. While India is ready to bring in foreign investment, indigenous private enterprise has always had to either be obsequious or play with the government. The hitch is that Mallya does not know how to be the good guy. He tried the regular route to what we consider respectable — a Rajya Sabha seat from his home state of Karnataka, promoting the Art of Living, visiting temples. Those who thought there was a transformation did not see the smokescreen arising from the incense sticks he used to light up at spiritual ‘dos’. This was “part of the brand building” he had confessed to regarding his other excesses.

There are many industrialists who just go about their business and do not need to show off. Mallya may have houses overseas but he never quite got the respectability of the Hindujas and the Mittals. He, therefore, did what someone with a lot of loose change does in India: started throwing it around. It was junta-pleasing time, a junta that has the history of such largesse from the rajas. He caricatured himself before anybody else could.

And he got to places before many could. Today, when the guy from Domino’s brings you your thin-crust, time to flashback to the 1980s when Mallya started a pizza chain; it fell flat on its pan. A businessman analysed that this man could start companies but not maintain them.

Does it mean that he can only build on what is already there, inherited from his father Vittal Mallya, who had abandoned him as a child and then reclaimed him? He knows our mentality. We like sob stories, so he used this tragedy and the stories about starting from scratch at the office, omitting the details about feather pillows and fluffy duvets when he got home.

It was a neat tactic, but for that you’ve got to be ahead of the herd. In the ‘let’s feel the pinch’ department, Mallya is a dud. Unlike the Narayan Murthys and Azim Premjis who subtly do so by making a song and dance about travelling economy, Mallya was attending the Indian Derby in a flaming orange jacket and bling.

His haughtiness has not reduced. It makes us angry, not because we care about his staff. We just hate it when, besides money, people can afford arrogance, too.

Published in The Express Tribune, November 3^rd, 2012.