I AM A JAMMUITE: Humility: The Forgotten Language of Power

Anil Kumar Sharma

In life, we have encountered many politicians and bureaucrats who possessed not only authority, but also humanity. They listened. They engaged. They resolved. They reminded society that power, when tempered with humility, becomes service rather than dominance.

History, both sacred and secular, offers enduring examples.

From the epics, King Shri Ram stands as an ideal ruler who governed not merely from the throne, but from the conscience of his people. His greatness lay not in conquest, but in restraint, empathy, and moral listening. Emperor Ashoka, transformed by the horrors of Kalinga, demonstrated that humility can arise even after immense power and that true strength lies in moral awakening. Akbar, despite imperial authority, listened to diverse voices and faiths, understanding that inclusion strengthens governance.

Closer to our times, Mahatma Gandhi exercised no formal authority, yet moved an empire because humility gave him moral power. Atal Bihari Vajpayee, even at the peak of political office, carried grace, restraint, and the rare ability to listen across ideological divides. These leaders are remembered not for how loudly they ruled, but for how deeply they listened.

A sign of great emotional intelligence is humility.
A humble person begins with you, not I.

Ancient wisdom reminds us:

नमन्ति फलिनो वृक्षा नमन्ति गुणिनो जनाः।
शुष्ककाष्ठश्च मूर्खश्च न नमन्ति कदाचन ॥

Just as a fruit laden tree bows down, so does a virtuous person. Dry wood never bends, and neither does an ego devoid of respect for others.

The metaphor is instructive for public life. Power stiffens when wisdom is absent. Authority that cannot bend eventually snaps under public pressure.

Across the world, similar patterns emerge. Nelson Mandela, after decades of imprisonment, governed with reconciliation rather than revenge. Abraham Lincoln, during America’s darkest civil conflict, spoke with humility, acknowledging fallibility even while exercising supreme authority. Angela Merkel led with quiet competence, choosing stability over spectacle. Their leadership proved that humility does not dilute power; it legitimizes it.

The same truth applies to bureaucracy.

Great administrators are remembered not for files cleared, but for lives touched. I recall an instance shared quietly within administrative circles. A senior officer, heading a busy district, noticed an elderly man standing silently at the edge of a crowded grievance meeting. Instead of delegating the matter, the officer called him forward, listened patiently, and realized the issue was a minor procedural oversight delaying a pension for months. The file was corrected the same day. No announcement was made. No credit was claimed. The man left with folded hands and moist eyes.

That small act did more for institutional trust than a hundred circulars ever could.

That is humility in action.

Bureaucracy without humility becomes machinery.
Politics without humility becomes performance.

In today’s culture of constant self promotion, humility is often mistaken for weakness. I too once believed that humble individuals were timid, unsure, easily overruled. But the study of great lives reveals the opposite.

They were strong, yet respectful.
Decisive, yet consultative.
Powerful, yet accessible.
Aware of their strengths, yet honest about their limitations.

They were humble not because they lacked confidence, but because they had conquered ego.

A virtuous person does not struggle to appear humble. Humility flows naturally from inner abundance. The less virtuous, like dry wood, refuse to bend. They may stand rigid for a while, but when the storm comes, they break.

For politicians and bureaucrats alike, humility is not a personal ornament. It is a constitutional virtue. It keeps institutions credible, decisions humane, and democracy alive. Fear may enforce obedience, but only humility earns legitimacy.

In admitting that we do not know, we open ourselves to learning.
In admitting that we can err, we open paths to correction.
In admitting that we are flawed, we become capable of justice.

The true test of power is not how it treats the powerful, but how it treats the powerless.

Be like the bamboo. The higher it grows, the deeper it bends.

Power fades. Humility endures.
And power that refuses humility will eventually be humbled by history.

(STRAIGHT TALK COMMUNICATIONS EXCLUSIVE. The author is a former banker and independent writer. aksjkb@gmail.com | +91 94192 08889)