Not all history needs everlasting preservation – it is the right call to rename the Pataudi Trophy

“Maharaja” and “nawab” were among the titles used by the rulers of the Indian princely states, while “Maharajkumar” was a prince.

No one in the world has more Test runs than Sachin Tendulkar. No fast bowler has more Test wickets than James Anderson. To reward the winner of an India-England series in England with a trophy named after the two legends is not unreasonable.

However, there is a catch: from 2007 to 2022, the trophy used to be named after Iftikhar and his son Mansur, the Nawabs of Pataudi, both of whom led India.

Why the Pataudis? Pataudi Sr scored a hundred on Test debut, for England in the Bodyline series of 1932/33. He played three Tests for England before leading India for three more in 1946. Father and son both studied in England and played in the County Championship. Pataudi Jr went on to lead India almost throughout the 1960s.

One can see why it used to be called the Pataudi Trophy. One can see what Harsha Bhogle meant when he said the renaming “misses the deep connect that Pataudi had with our countries”.

Sunil Gavaskar, who was – by his own admission – starstruck when he saw Pataudi for the first time, felt that “It shows a total lack of sensitivity to the contribution made by the Pataudis to cricket in both England and India”.

Sharmila Tagore, movie star and widow of Pataudi Jr, was not happy either: “Whether the BCCI wants to preserve Tiger’s legacy is for them to decide.”

There have been other voices too, accusing the authorities of ignoring history, of moving away from legacy. There have also been unconfirmed rumours of the change eventually not happening.

But will a change in name really be moving away from history? Is it a history that needs careful protection?

The Pataudi legacy

First things first. Pataudi Jr made 2,793 Test runs at 34.93. Had he not lost an eye, these numbers would certainly have been better – in other words, very decent for India before Gavaskar and Viswanath. He was also an excellent fielder.

At the same time, there is little in these numbers to justify the iconic status. When that horrific injury in the West Indies in 1961/62 ended Nari Contractor’s career, Pataudi got the job mid-series. At 21 years 77 days, he was the youngest Test captain in history at that point.

Until then, Pataudi had led an Indian side only once – a Board President’s XI against the touring MCC in 1961/62. His appointment echoed his father’s in 1946: Pataudi Sr had played only three first-class games since 1938.

There is little doubt that their royal lineage helped the Pataudis get the job ahead of several excellent alternatives. They were not unique in this: the first few Indian teams to England followed a pattern.

Early Indian captains to England

It is worth a mention that Hazare, one of India’s greatest middle-order batters of all time, would probably have led India anyway.

Let us return to Pataudi Jr. In his first stint as Test captain that lasted for the rest of the 1960s, he led India with little success to write home about. India won seven Tests over this period and lost 17. Five of these seven wins came against New Zealand, the weakest team at that point.

This is an unremarkable record. Add the five-Test second stint in 1974/75, and it reads 9-19. It is worth a mention that just before Pataudi had taken over, Contractor’s India had beaten England 2-0 at home.

Like all long-standing captains, Pataudi found support from teammates. EAS Prasanna hailed him as a genius. Bishan Singh Bedi credited him for being the first Indian captain to introduce “Indianness” to the team.

In a decade when India struggled to find fast bowlers, Pataudi often went in with three spinners. He rotated virtually throughout an innings. The tactic was a novelty, but – unsurprisingly – seldom converted to wins.

Part of Pataudi’s cult status was the non-cricketing ways in which he stood out from the rest of the team – and nation. He was royalty (“I’m a prince,” he responded when Ian Chappell asked him what he did for a living). He married a movie star. He spoke English with a different accent. His sense of humour was legendary. He wrote impeccable prose. He famously did not carry a bat on tours and walked out with the one nearest the dressing-room door. Jeffrey Archer – the two went to Oxford together – almost certainly based the lead character of The Century after him. The whims, the glamour, everything added to the Pataudi aura.

In many ways Pataudi Jr was a throwback to the English amateurs. There was a perhaps time when cricket needed that amateur spirit, but Pataudi played most of his cricket in the decade English cricket ended its amateur-professional bar.

In the 1969/70 home season, India failed to defeat New Zealand and lost to Australia. Chair of selectors Vijay Merchant sacked Pataudi and appointed Ajit Wadekar as captain. Under Wadekar, India won 1-0 in the West Indies, their first win against them, home or away.

On the 1967 tour of England, the Indians had to survive on a frugal daily allowance of £1 a day. Wadekar – the first “commoner” to lead India in England – negotiated with the BCCI to treble that allowance for the 1971 tour. The team responded with their first Test and series win in England.

Pataudi had withdrawn from these tours to contest the general elections, where he was routed. It was not the only way Indian cricket reflected the nation in 1971. The Indian government also announced the 26th Amendment to the Constitution that year: the royalty lost the privy purse they had been enjoying since 1947. The Nawab of Pataudi became Mansur Ali Khan.

That year, India had decided to leave royalty behind in pursuit of a more egalitarian society. Renaming the Pataudi Trophy would have been in tune with that. It would be acknowledging history, not denying it.

If Tendulkar is too recent a cricketer to be thus honoured, there are alternatives, starting with CK Nayudu, the first Indian captain…