In memoriam

Keshub Mahindra 1923-2023

A gentleman like none other

FOR a man who lived nine decades and as caring and convivial as he, it is difficult to think of what not to write on Keshub (he insisted that almost all call him that, even I, who was 33 years younger than him). Of Keshub as a thoroughly principled honest industrialist; of him as one of the politest and kindest persons I have known; of his commitment to social good, especially that of the girl child; of him as an independent fiduciary of several noted companies; of him once suffering an outrageous court verdict; of him as one who personified the best in a city that was once called Bombay; and so much more.

Let me start with a bit of history. Keshub would have loved it. His dad, K.C. Mahindra had finished a long stint working for Martin Burn and had left for the US in the late 1930s. Keshub’s uncle, J.C. Mahindra, too, had completed several years of working with the Tatas, and was in the US as well. By the time World War II occurred, the two brothers were itching to get into business in India. So, they called their respective sons – Keshub who was finishing a course at Wharton, and Harish who was graduating from Harvard – for a family conclave in Washington DC. Keshub’s desire to take up a job in Brazil was vetoed. So, the four returned to India in the early 1940s, along with B.R. Sule, who would be a key man in the years to come. They chose to settle in Bombay.

In October 1945, K.C. and J.C., along with a Muslim friend called Ghulam Mohammad, founded a firm called Mahindra & Mohammad (M&M). Then came Partition; Ghulam Mohammad left for Pakistan. And the firm’s seal – M&M – now came to represent Mahindra and Mahindra.

Starting as a steel trading company, M&M soon ventured into trading and then manufacturing Willys Jeeps, first in a leased space at Mazagaon and subsequently at Bhandup. Starting with assembling 75 completely knocked down packs, the company began building close to 7,000 jeeps per year in the late 1960s, with the US left hand drive becoming a right hand drive as well.

J.C. died early in 1950. After the death of K.C. in 1963, Keshub took over as the chairman of M&M. Then, with Sule and his cousin Harish Mahindra in key managerial roles, Keshub initiated a series of expansions by building new businesses: alloy and special steel (Mahindra Ugine), tractors, textile machinery, elevators, hydraulic pumps and valves, diesel engines, small trucks, trailers, synthetic chemicals, varnishes, electrical insulation, ash handling plants, centrifuges and much more.

Keshub remained the chairman of M&M from 1963 right up to his retirement in 2012. During this period, he forged the company’s partnerships with major corporations such as International Harvester, British Telecom, Ford Motor Company, and the Mitsubishi Group. When he handed over leadership of the company to his nephew, Anand Mahindra, M&M was a truly diversified conglomerate with interests in steel, engineering, automobiles, software services, aerospace and defence, real estate, and hospitality.

To be sure, these were stellar enough contributions. But these don’t define Keshub. The lasting impressions one got of this man was his unflinching commitment to honesty and good governance; his credo that companies must be run by best-in-class professionals; his exquisitely good manners and charm; his ability to teach without teaching; and how he could, in his quiet and understated way, take people along.

It was a combination of all these factors in Keshub’s persona that made him such a sought after person in the corporate world. Among his many board memberships were Housing and Urban Development Corporation (HUDCO, as the founding member and chairman), ICICI Bank, the Indian Hotels Company Limited, Steel Authority of India, Tata Chemicals and Tata Steel.

Keshub was also the non-executive chairman of Union Carbide India Limited (UCIL), which led to a terrible episode late in his retired life. Around midnight of 2-3 December 1984, at the Bhopal plant of UCIL, large amounts of water entered a tank containing methyl isocyanate. It caused a reaction that increased the temperature inside the tank to over 200°C, raised the pressure alarmingly, forced an emergency venting and released some 28-40 tonnes of the toxic gas into the atmosphere. Thousands died immediately from the effects of the gas. The mortality estimates vary from 3,787 by the government of Madhya Pradesh to as high as 16,000.

Warren Anderson, then the global executive chairman and CEO of Union Carbide, came to Bhopal after the disaster, was arrested and almost immediately released on bail 7 December 1984. He was allowed to return to the US, where he remained a free man, never to come to India again. But 25 years and six months after the event, Keshub, the independent non-executive chairman of the time, along with six executives of UCIL who were directly involved in the Bhopal plant, were convicted, and sentenced to two years jail and a fine. Thankfully, for Keshub, the judgement was so utterly flawed – where an independent director was painted with the same brush as six full time employees of the plant – that it was overturned on appeal. But at the age of 86, it caused this wonderful man untold grief.

There is a part of Keshub that few know of outside the M&M group. With the enthusiastic backing of Keshub, Anand Mahindra, the K.C. Mahindra Educational Trust, and the Naandi Foundation (started by Dr K. Anji Reddy) started a project called ‘Nanhi Kali’ (or a ‘little bud’). Given a strong correlation between social evils in India such as superstitions, dowry deaths, caste system, and the fact that girls were not educated, it was felt that if girls were educated, they would contribute not only to economic development but also to a more just and equal society. Designed as a sponsorship programme, where individuals and corporates can participate by sponsoring girls’ education for at least a year, Nanhi Kali has helped over 500,000 girls across India. In his later years, Nanhi Kali meant the world to Keshub.

Keshub lived a wonderful life – as a businessman, as a corporate citizen, and as a friend of so many. He lived by a set of principled values that were core to him, yet without these ever looking like fetishes of any kind. He loved the companionship of friends; as much as they of him. Simply put, he may well have been the last of Bombay’s Mohicans. A person from a gentler time and a quieter culture that has become so alien to us today. I feel blessed to have known him.

Omkar Goswami

Chairman, CERG Advisory

Delhi