“The future will be upon us before we realize it, and we will be left in the past”

“In June 1998, I was named as one of ‘The 50 Stars of Asia’ by the BusinessWeek International magazine. But that same week, I was fired with immediate effect, by fax.”

Some day, when a fair history of India’s telecom revolution is written, Brijendra Kumar (BK) Syngal would perhaps be the biggest hero in that tale. BK, who passed away on 9 July, was Chairman and Managing Director of the erstwhile Videsh Sanchar Nigam Limited (VSNL), and later chairman of Reliance Infocomm (the earlier version in 1999) and vice-chairman of BPL Communications. His career is the story of how India has progressed from the days when we had to wait eight hours for a “trunk call” to go through to today’s Digital India.

He also brought the Internet to India. Only the third country in Asia has commercial Internet (much before China). BK was fondly called “the father of Indian Internet”. (Disclosure: I have always called him “Sir”, but in this article, for reader convenience, even though I feel uneasy about it, I am referring to him as BK)

His achievements are truly astonishing.

All of us 1.4 billion Indians owe something, a little bit, to him. But, like many visionary pioneers who worked selflessly for India, BK did not get the honors and acclaim that he deserved.

BK, who did his BTech from IIT Kharagpur, was one of the first 50 electronic engineers that India produced. He joined the Indian Telecom Service (ITS, which was then called the Indian Telegraph Engineering Service) in 1964. Unlike most of his batchmates, he chose to work on “projects” rather than a desk job. “Projects” entailed actual laborious engineering work, often in inhospitable regions. But BK did not want to push paper. He wanted to work with his hands.

He spent most of the next two decades all over India, connecting the country. In the jungles of Assam, where a cheetah lurked near his tent, he set up microwave towers. In the deserts of Rajasthan, where sandstorms would often erase the road his jeep had been traveling on within minutes, he laid cables that would prove invaluable to the Indian army during the 1971 war against Pakistan. He climbed mountains in Kashmir to repair repeater stations and literally connected the Valley to the rest of India by introducing long-distance direct dialing services.

“For me, building something and seeing it being constructed every day, meeting the deadlines, solving all sorts of unexpected problems, enjoying the camaraderie of the teamwork, when you had only one another to rely on—that was more satisfying than anything else,” he told me. “And the indescribable joy when you see that your project is complete, that you’ve done your job—you’ve created something that will serve the people for years, impacting their lives, maybe even for decades.” These are the men who selflessly built India of today.

He was rewarded for his work—the government sent him off for a cushy three-year stint in Hungary. But when he returned, he pushed for the toughest assignment available—setting up the grid of earth stations for India’s INSAT satellite project. Thirty-five earth stations had to be set up on a meager budget of

He was never afraid to differ and delve into the unknown, new technological areas. The Joke went: ‘Syngal writes dissent notes in reports of committees that he is chairing because he is too futuristic’. BK Syngal’s logic always was: if you don’t start thinking about the future now, the future will be upon us before we realize it, and we will be left in the past.

Rs 40 crore within three years. And this was a prestige project for the government. If it failed, it would be a huge embarrassment for the nation. The developed world was already looking at this sky-high ambition of a Third World country with derision.

It seemed an impossible task. So, BK volunteered.

His boss was aghast. “Kambal tumhe chhorta nahin hai,” he said, “aur tum kambal ko chhorte nahin ho (The blanket doesn’t let you go and you don’t let go off the blanket)! What is this madness? You will regret this.” But BK was undeterred.

Working against tremendous odds, he set up the stations within deadline and budget, from Ladakh to the Andamans. But it was more than just an engineering achievement. Because on the way, BK had to deal with various ministries, departments, government committees, and experts with differing opinions. Being BK, he always kept pushing for more. “One of the jokes that circulated at that time was ‘Syngal writes dissent notes in reports of committees that he is chairing because he is too futuristic’,” he told me. “But my logic always was: if you don’t start thinking about the future now, the future will be upon us before we realize it, and we will be left in the past.”

BK spent nine years in London at the international satellite agency Inmarsat. Then in 1991 came the chance to head VSNL. VSNL was at that time the monopoly international phone service provider, a stodgy and lazy monopoly that provided little service. Making an international call from India was a nightmare. One had to dial for hours to get through to Berlin or Boston. Even Bangladesh actually had better international phone services.

He laid cables that would prove invaluable to the Indian army during the 1971 war against Pakistan.

The seven years that BK headed VSNL should have spawned a dozen Harvard Business School case studies. Hardly has an Indian manager ever faced so many battles on so many fronts and emerged triumphant. The work culture was abysmal—there was sloth all around and zero customer focus. The technology that VSNL used was totally outdated. Neither the politicians nor the bureaucracy saw any reason to allot any extra money to VSNL. It was a total mess all around.

BK had also made a big financial sacrifice when he accepted the job. In London, he had been earning a nice tax-free salary and enjoying a comfortable worry-free life, taking holidays around the world and watching cricket at Lord’s. VSNL offered a fraction of that money, and India could hardly give him that lifestyle. Yet, BK accepted. Because he wanted to do something for his motherland.

“I had a new job as the Chairman of Reliance Telecom, the first non-Ambani family member to hold the designation in a Reliance company. During my two-and-a-half years at Reliance, I led a team that created the blueprint of the required infrastructure for a converged society.”

In his seven years at VSNL, BK transformed an inefficient public sector corporation into a nimble future-focused organization. From an overseas switched-voice company, VSNL became an internationally recognized telecom company, offering a full range of basic and value-added services.

Without any financial support from the government, VSNL boldly invested in the world-girding submarine telecom cable SEA-ME-WE2. Once the system became operational, India got a 10x jump in global connectivity.

Today, India’s IT exports are more than what Saudi Arabia earns from selling its oil worldwide. But our IT giants would be nowhere near where they are today without BK. In addition to easy voice connectivity, he introduced high-speed leased data lines for Indian software companies so that they could work in real-time with international clients. This was the tipping point. When BK arrived at VSNL, the turnover of the Indian software industry was $60 million. By the time he left VSNL in 1998, it had soared more than 300 times to $2 billion.

Under BK, VSNL executed the largest global depository receipt issue till then to be listed on the London Stock Exchange (LSE) out of India. By 1998, VSNL was one of the top 10 companies by market capitalization and other parameters on the BSE and the NSE. It was ranked in the top 30 in the LSE. During BK’s tenure, VSNL’s revenues grew from $125 million to $1.6 billion, and profits from $32.5 million to $240 million.

“Father of the Indian internet”: BK launched Internet services on 15 August 1995 with much fanfare. It was a disaster. There were so many technical glitches and so much consumer dissatisfaction that within a month questions were being raised in Parliament. BK called a press conference. And, unmatched in the history of the public sector, he told the media: “I goofed up. Give me 10 weeks’ time and you’ll get a system that India will be proud of.” He fulfilled that promise. There never was a braver man.

In 2020, India had 750 million internet connections. But it all began with BK.

In June 1998, the American magazine BusinessWeek named BK as one of the “50 stars of Asia” along with Dhirubhai Ambani and Deepak Parekh of HDFC. Said the magazine: “Unofficially, the 58-year-old Syngal is known as ‘Bulldozer’, for his ability to crash through one bureaucratic barrier after another. India could use more managers like Syngal…Syngal is a tough boss: He posts notices chastising employees for a videoconferencing glitch or for losing a lucrative contract. But his employees know that in India’s state sector, they are working for the guy who gets things done.”

A few days after the BusinessWeek issue hit the stands, BK was sacked via a fax message late in the evening. BK would tell the sacking story very happily. His explanation was: one, his incorruptibility; and two, tremendous American pressure to take him down—US telecom companies that had been gouging the India market for decades were facing a situation where VSNL was making terrific profits and was the dominant partner in the dealings.

Post-Syngal, VSNL’s performance declined sharply. In 2002, it was sold off to the Tatas and was renamed Tata Communications.

I first met BK in 2002 when I was writing a book on IITs and IITians. I spent two hours with him and I came away with one simple thought: This man wears his nationalism on his sleeve. BK was pleased when I wrote that in my book. “That’s what I am,” he told me. “I have spent my life trying to work for India.” He was a proud son of India and India should be proud of him.

Wherever you are now, Sir, I am proud to have known you and your affection.

By Sandipan Deb

Sandipan Deb, co-author of Telecom Man, A Biography    

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