Excavating hard truths

The novel deftly portrays the culture of corruption that has come to exist within officialdom and the ethical dilemmas a civil servant faces.

Former bureaucrat Achala Moulik’s literary endeavours have, in the past, included books on political and cultural history, novels and a play on Alexander Pushkin that was performed in Moscow and St Petersburg. In the Acknowledgements to her latest work, Rogues Among The Ruins, she writes, ‘After spending an idyllic youth in Washington, New York, Rome and London, I came to India to join the IAS. The transition was not easy.’ Her parents advised her to ‘accept these misadventures and to record the profiles of people, sights and sounds of my new world. That was perhaps when this book began.’

Broadly speaking, the novel takes up twin narrative strands to portray the culture of corruption that has come to exist within officialdom and the ethical dilemmas that arise for the career civil servant who tries to balance principles with personal aspirations. Though fictionalised, the account draws heavily upon the author’s nearly four decades of service that included a stint as the Director General of the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI).

It is here that the first part, titled Life in The Ruins, begins. And a most interesting part it is. We learn of the ASI’s genesis, major discoveries, key personalities and work culture from Elangovan, an assistant archaeologist, and the earliest of the novel’s two main narrators, who, like the traditional sutradhars, are more observers than players.

Tea parties and intrigue

The zeitgeist of pre-partition days is captured when Julius Norton, a British archaeologist working in Mesopotamia, is appointed director general. He arrives in Delhi to a ‘medley of architectural styles’ that displease him. ‘Anything false loses its relevance in the crucible of time.’ In addition, he is confronted by a world of tea parties and intrigue, as under the guise of a survey on the North-West frontier, he is expected to keep an eye on Subhash Bose who has allied with the Afghan leaders, and also on the mysteries that puzzle scholars of Indian archaeology: Who were the so-called Aryans? Did they introduce the caste system? When were the Vedas composed?

Of the firm opinion that ‘Britain’s cultural imperialism could not have flourished without the collaboration of Indian Trojan horses,’ Norton wants to solve them all. Where there are antiquities, there will be imitations and dodgy dealers. To create the former are needed the sthapatis, hereditary custodians of temple sculpture, whose ancestors played a role in the spread of Indian culture in East Asia. As for crooks, they are to be found in any nook and cranny where an antique shop can be set up. The lucrative smuggling trade in antiquities has thrived as much on the nexus between sthapatis and dealers as it has on the unprofessionalism of the ASI officials, the novel suggests. Past carelessness in not recording excavations and in not storing the antiquities securely are some of the serious improprieties for which the institution is allegedly responsible.

The second part of the story, Romance Among the Ruins, is much longer and has Elangovan’s son, Raman, pick up the other narrative thread. Again, it is in Delhi, Civitate Dei, City of God, where we first meet Raman, as an IAS probationer, along with his batchmate and lifetime friend Subhash Chowdhury.

Insights into an era

As the career trajectories of these two gentlemen unfold against the backdrop of the seventies, we get insights into an era made interesting by the rise of Indira Gandhi, the Emergency and its aftermath. Interspersed are instalments from mofussil life, such as the relationship between a collector’s wife and a chief minister. The former, after having weathered an abusive marriage and a love affair that turned sour, finds the latter ‘kind and considerate’.

Meanwhile, the cuckolded collector requests the chief minister for a more lucrative post in which the lifestyle his wife has grown used to as a ‘mistress’ can be maintained. Then there is the incident of the eavesdropping orderly who is in the service of a veteran politician, Appajappa, one of a cabal of kingmakers who ensure the rise of Indira Gandhi to power ‘through the ritual of dynastic democracy.’

However, when it becomes clear that she has outgrown her mentors, the orderly tasked to spy on her during a visit, changes sides and is rewarded for it by a sharp ascent to eminence as MP and later becomes a union minister. Snippets such as these evoke the full flavour of Indian politics and will, no doubt, provide amusement and nostalgia to older readers who may recognise many of the vast repertoire of characters in these pages. However, they also speak of the rot. ‘Indians have always revered their rulers even when they are unworthy of that reverence.’

In summation, this is a story told with a born raconteur’s gift. Quaint and unpredictable, but also thought provoking.