The Proper Place to Confess

In Kentucky, when a man begins to call attention to himself, his neighbors are apt to suspect that he is running for sheriff. In India, where the climate is more spiritual, unconventional behavior is often taken as a sign that a man is angling to become a mahatma, a saintly soul. Last week the talk in New Delhi was that Seth Ramkrishna Dalmia, wealthy owner of the Times of India, was an active candidate for mahatma.

From Shekels to Sainthood. In his 57 years Dalmia has won for himself four wives, India's second largest industrial fortune and all the comforts that rupees can buy. About two years ago the tycoon's ambition began to shift from shekels to sainthood. In a frank autobiography Dalmia made it clear that he possessed unusual spiritual qualities: "I shall die peacefully with a smile on my face--an enviable state unattainable by ordinary men."

Since a penchant for public confession is one of the most essential items of equipment for a would-be mahatma, Dalmia concentrated on owning up past misdeeds. He admitted that he had once been seized with passion for a distant female relative. "Shamelessly, I proposed a meeting to [my first wife] . . . She lost no time in getting friendly with the lady and persuaded her to agree to my beastly proposal." He admitted, too, that his business morality had been shaky: "I feel as if I had sucked the blood of the poor in establishing the big name of Dalmia." And in his youth, he said, he had often underpaid his creditors. Since many of them were dead, he had decided to make a "sanctifying payment of five lakhs" ($105,000) to a fund for refugees from Pakistan. "This charity will bring peace to the departed souls [of dead creditors]. If any living creditors want to serve on the [fund] committees, I may request the committees to consider cooperating with them."

Not Out of Reverence. Two weeks ago, in a newspaper statement, Dalmia reminded the public that he and other Indian industrialists had contributed heavily to the Gandhi Memorial Fund, one of the government's pet charity projects. "But," said Dalmia, "truly speaking, this was not pure charity . . . We gave . . . not because of reverence for the departed high soul, but because many of us were expecting that by so doing we would not be dragged into the sphere of action of the Income Tax Investigation Commission."

Many Indians found a disturbing plausibility in this statement, for some of the largest contributors to the Gandhi Memorial Fund are also widely suspected of being high on the government's list of 1,365 major tax evaders. Others were angry at Dalmia for having associated the memory of Mahatma Gandhi with anything so unsavory.

Angriest of all was Deputy Prime Minister Sardar Vallabhbhai Patel, who had been the Gandhi Fund's most persuasive agent among the industrialists. Last week Indian newspapers featured Patel's public reply to Dalmia. Said Patel: "If you will let me know what contributions you have made [I will return the money] and cleanse the fund from any taint which you have communicated to it . . . I do not see any possible connection between contribution to such a sacred object and escape from punishment for tax evasion."

Then practical Politician Patel delivered a sadly unspiritual attack on Seth Ramkrishna Dalmia's efforts to acquire saintly virtue. "If you have any feeling of guilt or repentance for having evaded taxes . . ." said Patel, "the proper place for you to make a confession is not in a press statement, but at the Income Tax Investigation Commission. I suggest you go there . . ."

This file is automatically generated by a robot program, so reader's discretion is required.