Dr. Jiji Thomson IAS: From Authority to Fraternity | A Life Guided by Faith and Wisdom
NV Paulose, Chairman, Global TV +91 98441 82044
There are public servants whose careers can be measured by the offices they have held, the responsibilities they have carried, and the decisions they have taken. There are others whose lives leave behind something deeper: a way of looking at human beings, suffering, responsibility, faith, and service. Dr. Jiji Thomson, IAS, belongs to the latter category. His public life is not merely a record of administrative assignments. It is a reflection of a deeper conviction that authority has meaning only when it is placed at the service of people, and that the greatest strength of a human being comes not from power, but from humility before God.
What makes Dr. Jiji Thomson particularly admirable is the way his faith appears to have shaped his understanding of life. His faith is not presented as an escape from human suffering or as a denial of difficulties. On the contrary, it gives him a way to face suffering with greater courage and perspective. His experience with his mother, especially during her battle with advanced cancer, became a profound turning point in his understanding of suffering. At a moment when he was confronted with the helplessness that even a senior government officer could feel before illness, his mother reminded him of something far greater than his own anxiety.
She reminded him that suffering can bring a person closer to God and that human suffering, however painful, must be understood in the light of the suffering of Christ on the Cross. This was not a philosophical argument made from a distance. It came from a mother who herself was facing suffering. Her words helped him understand that life cannot always be measured by comfort, success, position, or the absence of pain. There are experiences that humble us precisely because they remind us of the limits of human power.
That insight seems to have remained with Dr. Jiji Thomson. It helped him develop the wisdom to face difficulties without constantly asking why life should be difficult. There is a profound maturity in such an attitude. It does not mean that suffering becomes pleasant or that human pain becomes unimportant. It means that suffering is placed within a larger spiritual perspective. The human being remains vulnerable, while God remains greater than human understanding. In that sense, his faith became not merely a matter of belief, but a source of inner strength.
This is perhaps one of the most important lessons that can be drawn from Dr. Jiji Thomson’s life. Human beings often become powerful because of position, wealth, knowledge, institutions, technology, or political authority. Yet none of these forms of power can make a human being equal to God. There is no comparison between any human power and the power of God. A person may occupy the highest office and still remain a human being who is vulnerable to illness, uncertainty, ageing, failure, and death. Recognising this is not weakness. It is wisdom.
Dr. Jiji Thomson’s understanding of faith also appears in his willingness to allow questions. The story of his grandson asking why one should go to church if God is present everywhere is a beautiful example. Instead of treating the question as disrespectful, the answer given was that one goes to church for fresh insights, just as one goes to the beach for fresh air. There is a quiet wisdom in this response. Faith does not have to be frightened by questions. Genuine faith should have the confidence to listen, explain, and deepen understanding.
This is particularly relevant in an age when younger generations are increasingly willing to question inherited assumptions. Dr. Jiji Thomson’s attitude suggests that questioning need not be the enemy of faith. A young person who asks a difficult question may actually be searching for a deeper understanding. The responsibility of elders is not merely to demand obedience, but to provide answers in language that young people can understand. Faith becomes stronger when it can engage the questioning mind with patience, reason, and love.
His simple analogy of firewood offers another insight into the relationship between the individual and the community. One piece of firewood may produce only limited heat, while many pieces brought together can create a strong fire. In much the same way, an individual prayer has its own meaning, but collective prayer creates a deeper sense of community and shared strength. The image is simple, but its wisdom is profound. Human beings are not designed to live entirely as isolated individuals. We become stronger when we come together.
This idea of togetherness connects naturally with Dr. Jiji Thomson’s public service. His career demonstrates that administration is not merely about exercising authority. It is about bringing people together around a common purpose. Authority may begin with an office, but meaningful public service begins when that authority reaches the lives of ordinary people.
His experience during the Commonwealth Games in Delhi in 2010 provides a powerful example. At a time when a major international event was facing serious organisational difficulties, Dr. Thomson was among the officers called upon to help address the crisis. Transport, catering, media relations, stadium operations, and other responsibilities required decisions under intense pressure. Catering alone involved thousands of athletes and officials and demanded enormous logistical coordination.
What is especially significant is the manner in which he approached difficult decisions. He understood that public administration cannot be separated from integrity. When questions arose around payments and procurement, he sought a transparent arrangement through which legitimate bills could be paid without compromising ethical principles. When equipment was urgently required from London and conventional arrangements could not meet the deadline, he took a decision involving considerable personal responsibility. He knew that decisions made during a crisis could later be questioned.
His conversation with his wife about the possibility of going to prison, and his statement that he would want only a Bible and a laptop with him if that happened, reveals something about his character. It shows an awareness that public office can expose a person to consequences, but it also shows where he found his ultimate sense of security. The Bible represented faith. The laptop represented his ability to continue working. Together, they symbolised two aspects of his life: trust in God and responsibility toward his work.
The successful conduct of the Games and the later scrutiny of expenditure further demonstrate the difficult environment in which public servants sometimes have to operate. Decisions must be made when time is limited and circumstances are uncertain. A person in authority cannot always wait for perfect conditions. Yet the moral responsibility remains to act honestly and courageously.
This brings us to a deeper understanding of authority. Authority is necessary in every organised society. Someone must take responsibility, make decisions, coordinate resources, and accept accountability. But authority becomes dangerous when the person who possesses it begins to believe that the authority itself makes him the whole. No individual, however powerful, is the whole of society. No office is permanent. No institution is God. No human authority can become a substitute for God.
This is where the distinction between authority and fraternity becomes meaningful. Fraternity is the whole. Authority is always a hole in the whole. Authority occupies a necessary space within society, but it is never the entirety of society. It exists to serve the larger human community. When authority remembers this, it becomes responsible and humane. When authority forgets this, it can become domination.
Dr. Jiji Thomson’s work in Patanakkad offers a beautiful example of authority becoming fraternity. As Sub Collector of Alappuzha, he did not confine administration to files and offices. He and other officers undertook Padayatra, walking through the village and meeting people directly. They saw practical problems that might otherwise have remained invisible to the administration. Electricity poles that were not functioning, water connections that had not reached people, and other local difficulties became matters of direct administrative attention.
Then came the story of an elderly widow whose five daughters could not marry because the family lacked the resources. Dr. Jiji. Thomson initially thought of contributing his own salary. But the problem was larger than one person’s contribution. A marriage required jewellery, clothes, utensils, umbrellas, and many other necessities. Instead of stopping at personal charity, he helped mobilise the community.
What began as concern for five girls gradually became something much larger. The idea of a mass marriage gained public attention. Eventually, the initiative expanded to seventy one couples. The ceremony at Patanakkad on 27 May 1987 brought together people from different sections of society, including the Governor, Chief Minister, ministers, religious representatives, and thousands of ordinary citizens. The remarkable aspect was that the initiative was sustained through community generosity rather than government treasury expenditure.
This is fraternity in action. Authority created the opening, but society filled it with generosity. An administrator could initiate an idea, but only a community could transform it into a movement. The episode demonstrates that government alone cannot solve every human problem. Administration can facilitate, coordinate, and inspire, but human solidarity is ultimately created by people themselves.
There is a beautiful lesson here for our understanding of leadership. The greatest leader is not necessarily the person who makes everyone obey. The greater leader is the person who makes people participate. Authority can compel action for a moment, but fraternity can sustain action for generations.
That is why the life of Dr. Jiji Thomson, IAS, is worth appreciating not merely as a successful administrative career, but as an example of the transition from authority to fraternity. His experiences suggest that the purpose of public office is not to elevate the individual above society. It is to give the individual an opportunity to serve society more deeply.
His faith adds another dimension to this understanding. If human authority is temporary, then humility becomes essential. If human beings cannot replace God, then public office must never become an object of worship. If suffering reminds us of our limitations, then compassion becomes more important than pride. If God is greater than every human institution, then every person who holds authority must remember that authority is entrusted, not owned.
The wisdom of Dr. Jiji Thomson’s life can therefore be expressed in a simple progression. Question deeply. Believe sincerely. Work honestly. Serve generously. Face suffering courageously. And remember always that human beings, however powerful they may become, remain human beings before God.
Perhaps this is also the deeper meaning of the dot and line. Every great movement begins with a small point. One person has an idea. Another person joins. A few people begin to participate. Soon the point becomes a line, and the line can become a movement whose destination could never have been imagined at the beginning.
Dr. Jiji Thomson’s life contains many such dots. A question from a child. A mother’s words during illness. A difficult decision taken in public service. A walk through a village. A widow’s problem. Five daughters in need. Seventy one couples eventually brought together in marriage. Each began as something small. Each became meaningful because someone was willing to act.
The enduring lesson is therefore not simply about administration, faith, or charity. It is about the proper place of the human being in the larger order of life. We have authority, but we are not the whole. We have intelligence, but we do not possess all wisdom. We experience suffering, but our suffering does not make us the centre of the universe. We may lead institutions, but we cannot replace God.
There is no comparison between human power and the power of God. That recognition does not diminish human beings. It places them in their rightful position. It teaches humility without weakness, faith without fear, and service without vanity.
In Dr. Jiji Thomson, IAS, one can therefore see an admirable combination of faith, administrative courage, compassion, and social imagination. His life reminds us that the finest form of authority is the authority that ultimately gives itself back to the people. When authority becomes fraternity, administration becomes service. When faith becomes humility, suffering becomes a source of wisdom. And when one human being takes one sincere step toward another, that small step can become the beginning of something much greater than anyone first imagined.
