James Crabtree, an outsider on the inside
Dhruv Munjal on why James Crabtree — journalist and chronicler of India’s deeply unequal society — is the brilliant outsider on the inside
James Crab tree strolls into the cacophonous lobby of New Delhi’ s Park hotel with the swagger of a high-school basketball player. His frame fits the bill. As he waves at me, I can’ t help but notice how he so easily dwarfs everyone else in the large room .“I didn’ t imagine you’ d besot all ,” I confess. He beam sand responds with a shake of the hand andaside-hugofsorts— anotherofthose gestures you would expect from your marquee shooting guard and not a brilliant ly capable journalist, writer and intellectual.
Then, as he poses for pictures outside before we sit down to talk, with an elevated, manicured lawn as the back drop, he makes sure to turn up the coolness quotient .“Are you one for fancy socks ?” I ask, impressed by the va rico loured pair he has chosen for our meeting. He offers a cheeky smile, lifting his trousers that wee bit for the camera.
Crab tree has bee non a mammoth
promotional tour for his new book, The Billionaire’ s Raj: A Journey through India’ s
Gilded Age—a seemingly endless phase of globe trotting .“If I have to promote another book, I’ m afraid it will have to be with a second wife ,” he laughs, alluding to the long period he has been away from home.
Having taken up a teaching position at the Lee Ku an Yew School of Public Policy more than two years ago, home for Crab tree is now in Singapore, where he lives with his wife, two kids and two cats. And the fe lines, Maine Coons, are perhaps bigger celebrities than Crabtreehimself. InMarch2016, Crabtree penned an amusing piece on how India’ s red tape was proving to be a hurdle in exporting the two of them to Singapore .“That was a complete nightmare. Getting them out of here was quite at ask ,” here calls.
As for the book, it had been in the making for awhile. Heading the Mumbai bureau of the Financial Times between 2011 and 2016, Crab tree had the opportunity to cover and regularly meet with some of India’ s most powerful businessmen—akin do fr are access that he himself acknowledges came about quite easily since foreign correspondents such as him are part of the conduit to global markets that help tycoons reach out to major global investors.
“Inmy time here, I was intrigued by the billionaires and the kind of capitalism I encountered. We don’t have billionaires of this sort in theWest; I wanted to understand their role in India’s development story. It was really fascinating,” says Crabtree, slumping back in his chair every once in a while to punctuate his thoughts. His boyish face, marked by a light, almost invisible stubble, belies his 41 years. And 10 minutes into our conversation, if the tie pairing his easyfitting navy blue suit is anything to go by, Crabtree is loosening up.
The book itself is delight fully detailed and wonder fully researched, further enriched by a writing style that is both fresh andevocative— reflectionson a grim subject wrapped in an engaging narrative. And despitethetitle, billionaires only occupy apart of the book; the res tis an accurate and occasionally damning comment on the India of a few yearsago, enlivenedby contentious characters such as LalitModi, JagdishBhagwati, NSrinivasan, Raghu ram Ra jan and Ar nab Go swami( an entire chapter is dedicated to Indian te levi si on’ sen f ant terrible ).
Crabtree underscores three fault lines in the The Billionaire’ s Raj: rampant inequality that is invariably an outcome of the wealth explosion at the top; crony capitalism and how corruption plays out in different regions of India; and the issues with India’s investment model. “India has become more unequal than most of us realise. And if India needs to move upwards and onwards in the development stakes, these three problems need to be looked at very seriously,” he explains.
By now, our coffee has arrived and Crab tree dunks cookies in his lat te with a kind of natural is ed carefree abandon. The tea time ritual may have its modern origins back home in England but Crab tree makes sure he enjoys his biscuits in a very Indian way.
Crab tree was perhaps hugely lucky to be around while the country was in the midst of sweeping change, and a book seems like an expected end result. He witnessed from close quarters the spectacular as cent of Na rend ra Mo di and his imperious march to power; the despicably drawn-out fall of Vi jay Mall ya; the sudden tumult caused by demonetisation; and the acrimonious dismissal of Ra jan as governor of the Reserve Bank of India.
In fact, Crab tree is among only a handful of journalists who have interviewed Mall ya after the extravagant business man fled India fortheUK. What Crab tree found at the liquor baron’ s London mansion, in addition to an unrepentant owner, was a gold toilet with agoldenrim, and monogram med white towels bearing“VM”.
“He is a charismatic figure whose company I enormously enjoyed,” concedes Crabtree, further elaborating on how “Mallya sees himself as a victim of circumstance”. “A lot of it is obviously his fault. But India must not think that it has a ‘Vijay Mallya’ problem and that putting him in jail will solve everything. He is by no means the worst offender when it comes to taking money out of the banking system.”
His assessment of the Mo di government ismoresevere. Demonetisation, accordingto him ,“was the single-biggest policy mistake made by any government in living memory ”, with the Prime Minister’ s overall record as a re former also coming in for some fierce criticism in the book.
“Demonetisation, the sacking of Rajan and the appointment of Yogi Adityanath as Uttar Pradesh chief minister were the three key decisions that made me realise that Modi isn’t the economic reformer we think him to be,” Crabtree continues.
His acquired Indian ness goes beyond his illuminating expertise on the country’ s economy and politics. His son, born in 2014, is called Alexander Francis Vis wan a than Crab tree, a name approved by a bunch of priests amid a blast of incense and holy coconut sat a naming ceremony a this Cola ba home in Mumbai. It was a neigh bo ur’ s idea and when the priest told Crab tree that the name had to start with‘ V ’, he hastily came up with Vis wan a than, after Vis wan a than An and, India’ s greatest chess player .“I am not the best chess player; you’ ll probably beat me. ButI’m definitely an enthusiast ,” he chuck les.
And then there’s cricket. His admitting to an affinity for the sport has me apprising him of a similarity he shares with Sunil Gavaskar. The former Indian captain, like Crabtree, paid tribute to his sporting heroes by sandwiching a curious portmanteau between his son’s first and last name. In Rohan Gavaskar’s case, it is “Jaivishwa”, a marriage of words honouringML Jaisimha and Gundappa Viswanath. Crabtree nods, more surprised than flattered.
The surprise soon gives way to elation, as he is told that James Anderson’s prodigious seam and swing is running through the Indian top order at Lord’s, with the expected horror playing out on a giant screen behind us. Test cricket may have him exuberantly cheering on for now, but Crabtree says that he is one for innovation. “I am a fan of Test cricket but there really is no point if there are only two men and a dog watching it on a wet Thursday,” he remarks. “India, with its focus on T20 cricket, is changing the sport. But with this success has come corruption and scandal. Indian cricket, in fact, is a great metaphor for the country itself.”
As we are about to leave, ChrisWoakes knocks over Vi rat K oh li with a floating out swinger. A dismayed K oh li trudges back, and I re ali se that this contest is every bit as unequal as my guest concludes India is. Crab tree is right: we must bridge the gap.
WITH SUCCESS AND SCANDAL, ‘INDIAN CRICKET, INFACT, IS A GREAT METAPHOR FOR THE COUNTRY ITSELF’