When CDS was the Vatican and Prof Raj the Pope

While we were post graduate students at the Kerala University’s Department of Economics in Karyavattom in the late 1970s, the Centre for Development Studies (CDS), perched on a small hill in the neighbouring Prashant Nagar, was like what is the holy Vatican to the Catholics. And, of course, Prof. KN Raj, its revered head, the Pope. To our small Agriculture/Industry/Labour batch, a weekly pilgrimage to the awesome library at the hallowed CDS was almost mandatory in the final year. Even the least studious among the group, like this writer too, loved these trips for many reasons. The opportunity to spend some “quality time” off-classrooms with friends; the collective trek through what was then a narrow, dusty, pothole-filled village road from Ulloor, where the university bus dropped us off; the leafy and cool ambience of the unconventional, Laurie Baker-built, brick and stone building which appeared the most romantic edifice I ever saw; the enormous treasure of books and periodicals in the seven-storey library tower with its jali-walls and spiral staircase; the breathtaking view of Thiruvananthapuram from the top; the newness of the North Indian thali at the CDS canteen. 

We often sat jaw-dropped and wide-eyed at the canteen, seeing living legends of economics in flesh and blood—figures we knew only from textbooks. Joan Robinson, Amartya Sen, Ashok Mitra, A. Vaidyanathan, Krishna Bharadwaj, Sukhamoy Chakraborty, I.S. Gulati, T.N. Krishnan, Prabhat Patnaik, and many more we didn't know. They engaged in informal chats or serious discussions, sipping tea or sharing cigarettes. Among them were also younger scholars like Sudipto Mundle, Thomas Isaac, K.P. Kannan, Mihir Shah, and Michael Tharakan, who would later rise to prominence. The star of this vibrant scene was undoubtedly the venerable Raj, the economist Prime Minister Nehru had tasked with drafting India’s First Five-Year Plan. His laughter was disarming, his eyes sparkled behind thick-rimmed glasses, and a huge dimple graced his face. The atmosphere—a blend of free expression and intellectual rigour—until then was unfamiliar to us. The absence of hierarchy struck us; the masters were queuing with students and even peons at the self-service counter, washing their own plates—a testament to the egalitarian spirit of CDS and its founder. 

Kakkadan Nandanath Raj (1924-2010), whose centenary we commemorate this year, would undoubtedly be among the greatest Malayalis born in the 20th century. Several names from Kerala’s politics, art and culture, media, or sports could figure among the country’s best. But only a few from social sciences, science and technology, judiciary, bureaucracy, or business. MS Swaminathan, TN Seshan, Verghese Kurien, VR Krishna Iyer, Anna Mani and PR Pisharoty are some of the names that quickly come to mind. Hence, Kerala surely needs to celebrate Raj, one of the foremost economists of independent India, among the state’s all-time greats. We should also be grateful to him for having founded and developed the CDS, the only globally recognised institution of its kind in a state notorious for its mediocrity in higher education. Thanks to Raj’s vision and legacy, CDS, unlike most elite schools, has the myriad issues of the ordinary people of Kerala at the core of its existence and explorations. Raj, the great mentor and talent-spotter, also nurtured a generation of conscientious scholars who played crucial roles in institutions across the world. Raj was also the one who told the world for the first time about the unique Kerala Model of Development, which continues to be respected and debated widely. 

“Raj advocated decentralised planning decades before it became a fashionable mantra. He recognised the importance of giving priority to basic needs and human  development before the ILO and UNDP took up these ideas with much more fanfare,” writes eminent economist Kaushik Basu. During the 1990s, The Economic Times chose Raj among the four greatest living economists in the country. The others were P R Brahmananda, IG Patel, and Manmohan Singh. 

The Thrissur-born Raj was much more than an illustrious economist. After obtaining a doctorate from the London School of Economics, he could have stayed on in the cool comforts of the Western world. Instead, the young economist returned to India the year it became independent to take part in the nation's tryst with destiny. He joined the Reserve Bank of India where he computed the country’s first statement of balance of payments.  Prime Minister Nehru, buoyed with excitement and energy to build the new nation, was seeking talents to help him. One of whom he found was Raj, barely 26 at the time. Recommended by Harold Laski, Raj's teacher in the LSE, Nehru entrusted the youngster with the most crucial job of drafting the First Five Year Plan as an Expert member in the Planning Commission. The Plan was to embody Nehru's dreams, vision and blueprint for the new nation’s baby steps forward. The story goes that Nehru, the “man in a hurry”, was a bit put off by Raj’s draft, which called for controlled growth in contrast with neighbouring China, gearing up for the “Great Leap Forward”. The Prime Minister summoned Raj to ask why. “Do you want growth at the cost of democracy?” was the young Malayali’s counter question to the PM, who was convinced after a detailed discussion.  A staunch Socialist who believed in democracy and inclusive development, Raj’s counsel was sought later by Prime Minister Indira Gandhi for her landmark steps like rupee devaluation and bank nationalisation. 

In 1953, Raj joined the Delhi School of Economics as a Professor of Monetary Economics, beginning his legendary innings as a great teacher. Raj, as its director, made DSE an institution of international acclaim by bringing into its faculty India’s greatest economists:  Amartya Sen, Jagdish Bhagvati, Sukhamoy Chakraborty, Manmohan Singh and many more. Raj also taught at Delhi University and later became its vice-chancellor. A man of principles, he stepped out from this exalted position after a few years, refusing to put up with political troubles kicked up by students affiliated with the Jan Sangh.

Positions of power and prestige in major institutions worldwide were within Raj's easy reach. Yet, he chose to return to Kerala when invited by Chief Minister C. Achutha Menon in 1971 to establish an institution focused on regional issues, particularly those affecting the underprivileged. This led to the founding of the CDS, which he elevated to global standards. Under his visionary leadership, CDS produced invaluable studies on Kerala through multidisciplinary methodologies and nurtured generations of esteemed scholars from across the country and outside.

Raj’s interests included poverty, inequality, decentralisation, unemployment, agricultural economics, and labour, aligning him with the democratic Left. Despite his affiliations with influential leaders like Indira Gandhi and C. Subramaniam or Achutha Menon and EMS Namboodiripad, he remained unafraid to voice dissent. He openly criticised the Emergency, ensuring that academic freedom at CDS remained intact, even during oppressive governmental oversight. He debated with EMS often on economic issues. In 1985, Raj made headlines when he walked through a CPI(M)-organised rail blockade, denouncing the obstruction as undemocratic. When confronted, he  declared, “I won’t budge. If you don’t know me, ask your leader, EMS, who knows me well!”. But during the 1990s, Raj closely associated with EMS and the EK Nayanar government in the People’s Planning Project.

Kerala should gratefully honour its great son—an intellectual giant, advocate for the marginalised, upholder of democracy and inclusive growth and builder of significant institutions—especially when men and women of such qualities seem to be dwindling.