Kiran Bedi. Photograph: Seamus Murphy
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The NS Interview: Kiran Bedi, social activist and former police chief

“My policing was nothing but activism – it had to be”

“My policing was nothing but .activism – it had to be”

Why did you decide to join the police force? You were the first woman in India to do so.
When I was growing up, government was the agent of change: it was a developing country. What was important was to make a difference.

Did you encounter sexism?
Yes, I encountered it even as a child - when I was a tennis player, we would get lesser expenses. [Bedi first became a national tennis champion in 1966.] The ladies' finals would be on court four but the boys would be on centre court.

Did you see yourself moving into activism?
My policing was nothing but activism - it had to be.

Was that challenging? I read that you were put on postings considered "undesirable".
I had a clear vision: if I take up an assignment I'll do full justice to it, otherwise I'll walk away. A lot of my PhD work and my book-writing came from that - when I thought it was time not to take up an assignment that was not worth it. That's the reason I took early retirement. It's good to go batting rather than be bowled out.

You campaign on a wide range of issues. If you had to pick one as the main problem facing India today, what would it be?
Corruption. If that is handled, governance will improve. When governance improves, there will be less have-nots and more haves. The corruption creates a lot of have-nots because it's their money which is being stolen. If India has a major problem today it's corruption. It's not shortage of money, it's siphoning of money - money that was supposed to be for infrastructure which benefits everybody: roads, bridges, schools, dispensaries, hospitals, communications, railways, airports, policing.

What would be next?
After corruption would be electoral reform. If you did just these two things, India will be a developed country within ten years. It will be able to deal with its billion-plus population well. If we clean up our act before the 2014 elections, and we can vote in better people who would deliver better governance, India would have better policies and services and address the growing aspirations of its youth - India is going to be one of the youngest countries in the world.

You were arrested for your anti-corruption work. What was it like being on the other side of the law?
The police were very kind, very decent. They wanted to withdraw the case; they wanted me to take bail and I said no, then they discharged me! They didn't know what to do with me.

How is the position of women in India?
Somewhere [sexism] is blatant and somewhere it's not visible and somewhere it's gone. You have a mixture of all the three. Rape is still a serious crime in India, eve-teasing [street harassment] is still a major crime, domestic violence is still a very serious issue. So is dowry; that still exists but it's also being fought. Legal systems are being put in place to deal with them and media awareness is also very high.

What are the main barriers to reform?
Corrupt politicians - there are quite a few politicians who have criminal records and still make it to the elected assemblies. In our electoral system, unless the person is convicted, he can still fight for the elections. We want a change, saying that if you are charged, you are barred from fighting elections.

What do you think about dynastic politics?
People are fed up. People are rebelling against it. In the coming election, either you perform or you perish.

What do you do to relax?
I sleep very well. I keep my morning walks, but I enjoy doing whatever I do. I do only what I like, so it doesn't stress me.

What's next?
The next two years, we are on to a mass anti-corruption movement and electoral reforms. A lot of travelling round the country, making people aware every vote is their responsibility.

Was there a plan?
There was no plan. The focus is what is right be­fore you - to give it your best. It sows the seeds of tomorrow.

Is religion a part of your life?
Oh yes. I believe in prayer. I believe in gratitude and serving people.

Is there anything you would rather forget?
There are no conscious blunders. When you stay alert, why would you run into trouble?

Do you vote?
Yes, of course.

Are we all doomed?
No, the outlook is better - we're making today better than yesterday. We're addressing it; we're not sulking, we're not depressed. We are upbeat. We believe we can be the change.

Defining Moments

1949 Born in Amritsar, India
1968 Gets BA in English from Government College for Women, Amritsar
1972 Becomes first woman to join the Indian Police Service
1993 Inspector general of Tihar, Asia's largest jail; implements reforms such as drug rehabilitation. PhD in social sciences, Indian Institute of Technology Delhi
1994 Wins Ramon Magsaysay Award, also known as the Asian Nobel prize
2007 Takes early retirement from police

Samira Shackle is a freelance journalist, who tweets @samirashackle. She was formerly a staff writer for the New Statesman.

This article first appeared in the 19 March 2012 issue of the New Statesman, The end of socialism

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An English hero for the ages: Ian Botham at 60

Botham blends his sportsmanship and deep-seated passion for cricket with a lust for life.

Begging W H Auden’s pardon, it is possible both to honour and to value the vertical man, and in the case of Ian Botham, who turned 60 on 24 November, it is our bounden duty. No sportsman has given Britons so much to enjoy in the past half-century and no sportsman is loved more. Two decades after he retired from first-class cricket, his reputation as one of life’s champions remains unassailable.

No mere cricketer is he, either. Botham is a philanthropist, having raised more than £12m for various charities, notably Leukaemia and Lymphoma Research. In December, 30 years after his first walk from John o’Groats to Land’s End, he will set off again, in South Africa, where England are on tour. And he really does walk, too, not amble. As somebody who accompanied him on one of his dozen walks said: “You can’t keep up with him. The man is a phenomenon.”

Of all postwar sportsmen, only Bobby Charlton and, at a pinch, Henry Cooper come close to matching Botham’s enduring popularity. But Charlton, a shy man who was scarred by the Munich plane crash of 1958 (and may never have recovered from its emotional effects), has never comfortably occupied a public stage; and Cooper, being a boxer, had a solitary role. Botham, by contrast, spoke for England. Whenever he picked up his bat, or had a ball in his hand, he left spectators in no doubt.

Others have also spoken for England. Bobby Moore and Martin Johnson, captains respectively of England’s World Cup-winning football and rugby teams, were great players but did not reach out to people as naturally as Botham. Nick Faldo, Lester Piggott, Sebastian Coe and, to bring us up to date, Lewis Hamilton have beaten the best in the world, but they lacked those qualities that Botham displayed so freely. That is not to mark them down. They were, and are, champions. But Botham was born under a different star.

It was John Arlott, the great cricket commentator, who first spotted his uniqueness. Covering a match at Taunton in 1974, he asked the young colt to carry his bags up the rickety staircase to the press box, where Arlott, wearing his oenophile’s hat, pulled out a bottle of red wine and invited Botham to drink. Forty years later Botham is a discriminating wine drinker – and maker. Along with his friend and fellow England great Bob Willis, and their Australian wine­making pal Geoff Merrill, he has put his name to a notable Shiraz, “BMW”.

Arlott, with his nose for talent and good company, saw something in the young Botham that Brian Close, his captain at Somerset, was beginning to bring out. Later, Mike Brearley, as England captain, drew out something even more remarkable. As Rodgers and Hammerstein wrote, you’ve got to be carefully taught. And Botham, a fine team man as well as a supreme individual performer, has never withheld praise from those who enabled him to find his voice.

If sport reveals character, then cricket is the game that reveals it most clearly. In no other sport is the individual performance rooted so firmly in a team context. Every over brings a contest of skill and intelligence between batsman and bowler but only a team can win the match. “A cricketer,” as Arlott said, “is showing you something of himself all the time.”

Cricket also reveals national character more than any other sport. Football may be the most popular game in the world but cricket, and cricketers, tell us far more about England and Englishness. It is instructive, in this regard, to hear what Philippe Auclair, a French journalist and author long resident in London, has to say about Botham: “He is essentially an 18th-century Englishman.” In one! It’s not difficult to sense a kinship with Tom Jones, Fielding’s embodiment of 18th-century life, who began his journey, as readers may recall, in Somerset.

A country boy who played for Worcestershire after leaving Somerset, and who lives by choice in North Yorkshire, Botham is an old-fashioned Englishman. Although nobody has yet found him listening to the parson’s sermon, he is conservative with a small and upper-case C, a robust monarchist, handy with rod and gun, and happiest with a beaker in front of him. He represents (though he would never claim to be a representative) all those people who understand instinctively what England means, not in a narrow way, but through something that is in the blood.

Above all, he will be remembered for ever as the hero of 1981. Even now it takes some believing that Botham bowled and batted with such striking success that the Australians, who were one up after two Tests, were crushed. Some of us who were actually at Headingley for the famous third Test – thousands who claim to have been there were not – recall the odds of 500-1 on an England victory going up on the electronic scoreboard that Saturday evening.

Botham made 149 not out as England, following on, beat the Aussies by 18 runs. For three hours the country seemed to stop. In the next Test, at Edgbaston, Botham took five wickets for one run as Australia fell under his spell. Then, at Old Trafford, on a dank Saturday afternoon, he played the most memorable innings of his life and one of the greatest innings ever played by an Englishman: 118 magnificent, joyful runs. Joy: that’s the word. Botham brought joy into people’s lives.

Yet it was the final Test at the Oval, which ended in a draw, that brought from him a performance no less remarkable than those from before. He bowled 89 overs in that match, flat out, continuing to run in when others withdrew with injury. That was the team man coming to the fore. Little wonder his comrades thought the world of him.

Modest, loyal, respectful to opponents, grateful to all who have lent him a hand, and supported throughout a turbulent life by Kath, his rock of a wife, and their three children, this is a cricketing hero to rank with W G Grace, Jack Hobbs, Wally Hammond and Fred Trueman. A feature in the lives of all who saw him, and a very English hero. 

This article first appeared in the 26 November 2015 issue of the New Statesman, Terror vs the State