Mark Tully (1935–2026): A Gentle, Trustworthy Voice of India

 

Sir William Mark Tully, one of the respected voices in Indian journalism and broadcasting, passed away at the age of 90 in a Delhi hospital.

Born in Tollygunge, Calcutta, to British parents, Mark spent his early years in India before being sent to England for his education at Marlborough College and later at Trinity Hall, Cambridge. Journalism was not Mark Tully’s first choice. In his early years, he aspired to become a priest, but that path was closed to him after an interaction with a bishop, who ultimately rejected his application for the priesthood.

Finally, Mark joined the BBC and returned to India in 1964 as the BBC’s India correspondent, later serving the organisation as Bureau Chief in New Delhi. He became a leading voice in Indian journalism, known for his distinct ethos, and remained at the forefront of news-making for nearly three decades until stepping down from the BBC in 1994.

Mark was among the rare journalists who bore witness to modern India in the making, watching closely, listening carefully, and writing with depth about the social and political churning that shaped the country over decades.

Over the course of his long association with the BBC, Tully came to represent a form of journalism that valued restraint over drama and understanding over spectacle. His reporting on India was marked by balance, depth, and an unusual attentiveness to human experience. At moments of profound national strain, the Emergency of 1975–77, the assassination of Indira Gandhi and the violence that followed in 1984, Operation Blue Star, Anti-Mandal protests in 1990, the demolition of the Babri Masjid in 1992, the onset of economic liberalization, and repeated cycles of elections and unrest, his voice remained measured and clear.

Being a BBC listener, Mark was known to me from my childhood. In my village, listening to the BBC was almost a compulsory activity for us as a family. When I moved to Delhi, I had multiple brief interactions with Mark at conferences. But there is one discussion with him that I can never forget, which continues to resonate in my heart and mind—the way Mark engaged with me.

It was a winter evening on the terrace of the India Habitat Centre in 2011. Amid the cold wind, I saw Mark at a private dinner. It was a rare opportunity for me to speak with him in detail. I went towards Mark and introduced myself. I introduced myself as a BBC listener and shared my experience of the BBC’s quality of news and various programmes related to news analysis with experts. I also shared how BBC programmes shaped my understanding of social and political issues. When I shared my thoughts on the quality of BBC Hindi, he listened attentively, with the same seriousness and openness that marked his approach to journalism.

I cannot fully explain the empathy Mark offered during our conversation. We discussed everything under the sun, politics, religion, international relations, and the future of Indian politics.

I had my last hello with him at the India International Centre, when a memorial meeting was held for A. G. Noorani in 2024. He was in a wheelchair, but his charm and commitment remained undiminished despite his illness.

India has lost one of its most sensitive and insightful observers. Mark Tully did not simply report on the country; he listened closely, understood deeply, and embraced India in all its contradictions. His legacy survives in the confidence he inspired, the narratives he shaped, and the quiet integrity with which he bridged cultures and worlds.