Manmohan Singh's leadership style was rooted in dignity, respect and unwavering dedication to the nation

Reams have been written about Dr Manmohan Singh’s humility, intellect and self-effacing personality since his passing in the last week of 2024. A statesman who preferred quiet action over flamboyant rhetoric, Singh’s leadership style stood in stark contrast to the grandstanding often associated with political figures. As a result, this strong personal trait was misunderstood and misinterpreted by many as an inherent weakness in contemporary politics and diplomacy, where leaders often seek to achieve an imaginary ‘halo’ even while performing mundane duties as heads of government or state. In contrast, Singh seldom courted personal glory or self-aggrandisement. There existed an impenetrable wall between his personal and public life, which led to many personal sacrifices during his tenure.

For 10 long years, the media and commentators speculated whether Singh would be able to visit his birthplace in Gah, now in Pakistan. Yet, throughout his tenure, he insisted that he wished to establish amicable relations with Pakistan only after “measurable actions” by our neighbour to control terrorist activities originating from its soil. During his final visit to the United Nations General Assembly in September 2013, he held a meeting on the sidelines with the newly elected prime minister of Pakistan, Nawaz Sharif.

Whenever the two met, they conversed in Punjabi, both being from the same region of Pakistan. After the official pleasantries and business discussions, Sharif invited Singh to Pakistan and, for good measure, offered several personal incentives: he suggested Singh could inaugurate a school or a college named after him and establish a hospital in Gah to honour his memory. Towards the end, Sharif slipped into his inimitable Punjabi style, saying, “You can also visit Nankana Sahib Gurdwara, the birthplace of Guru Nanak and a revered shrine of the Sikh community.” Singh, without a moment’s hesitation, replied, “Don’t bring my religion into this.”

The officials in the delegation, who later recounted this interaction to me in detail, realised at that point that this visit would never take place. Rebuffed, Sharif went on to criticise Singh in a subsequent interaction with the press, remarks that were eagerly picked up by the media in both countries. This crucial exchange between the two prime ministers never saw the light of day, and with it, hopes of Singh visiting Gah vanished. His message was clear: he could be engaged only as a representative of the people of India, not as a member of any community or due to his ties to his birthplace.

In an era where political discourse is often dominated by assertiveness and self-aggrandisement, Singh’s self-effacing personality serves as a reminder of the power of humility and quiet determination. His legacy is not only one of economic and diplomatic achievements, but also of a leadership style rooted in dignity, respect and unwavering dedication to the nation.

Final farewell: Prime Minister Narendra Modi pays last respects to Manmohan Singh at the state funeral ceremony of the former PM in Delhi | AFP

At the end of his second term, the communications team at the Prime Minister’s Office proposed a booklet on the United Progressive Alliance’s “Ten Years of Growth and Progress”, a definitive document on a decade that witnessed India achieve unprecedented inclusive growth in the democratic developing world. Among the listed achievements were: lifting more than 26 crore people out of poverty, an average decadal GDP growth of nearly 8 per cent, a near tripling of per capita income over 10 years, employment provided to 49 million families under the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Act, quadrupling of Employees’ Pension Fund accounts, and the issuance of 51 crore Aadhaar cards within four years. It was a record any leader or administrator would take pride in at the end of their tenure. When the booklet’s first draft was presented to him, Singh looked at it rather reluctantly and made only one observation: “Is it necessary to put my photograph on the cover?”

Despite his towering achievements, Singh remained a figure of humility, avoiding the limelight and allowing his work to speak for itself. Many times, he had to be convinced that, in modern democratic politics, communicating achievements in governance was also part of the job. His repartee was often laced with amusement: “Either you can work or talk about your work.” In the current political scenario, where prime ministers and presidents take selfies at global summits, make social media reels during election campaigns and spend significant taxpayer funds on media management, he was a rare breed. Especially so, as the personal and professional lines in politics are often blurred. “I do not want to be seen as a prime minister who indulges in propaganda and personal glorification,” he would quietly but firmly assert.

For Singh, the media was merely a vehicle to communicate about the work he was doing. He took criticism on the chin and never dodged questions, as I observed while watching recordings of dozens of his news conferences and organising interactions with the press in India and abroad. He took fair criticism seriously, discussing minute points of economic thought with leading commentators. However, when faced with unfair press allegations, he would reconcile himself to the situation, quoting his former colleague and Panjab University vice-chancellor Amar Chand Joshi: “People will say what they want to say, so let them say it.” And then he would return to his work.

It was difficult and painful to witness the media’s hostility towards him during the last two years of his premiership, but he adhered to his self-imposed code of conduct in dealing with the press.

Early in 2014, a few months before the general election, office-bearers of the Press Club of India approached me with a proposal. They wanted the prime minister to unveil the foundation stone of their newly allotted plot of land in Lutyens’ Delhi and have his name inscribed on the plaque. As communications adviser, I saw this as an opportunity to facilitate another interaction with the media at a time when the majority of the press was hostile towards him. However, Singh’s response caught me off guard: “I would not like to be seen as a prime minister trying to curry favour with the members of the press so close to an election.” Case closed.

In the 28 months I worked with him, he was always a case of grace under fire, never losing his sense of humour or composure. His initial words to me when I joined were simple: “I am a small man in this big chair.” Sometimes, I felt the chair was not the main piece. The silent man, steadfast in his convictions and quietly doing his work, was the true focal point of his premiership. His selfless work will continue to inspire us for a very long time.

Pankaj Pachauri is a journalist and was communications adviser at the PMO from 2012 to 2014.