In its obituary, The New York Times called him “one of Asia’s most flamboyant businessmen”. This referred to his lavish lifestyle, which included homes on the sea in Mumbai and in London’s Holland Park, where he entertained politicians and other influential figures. He also had a fondness for Rolex and Dom Pérignon.
The early start
Like many other ambitious young entrepreneurs, the cashew trader’s son was an early starter. Barely in his 20s, he invested in a hotel in Goa, where he made his first pile of money. Soon after, reckoning that India’s notorious licence permit raj, at its peak in the 1970s, wasn’t conducive to the fast-paced growth he aspired to achieve, he shifted base to Singapore.
In collaboration with a Canadian businessman, Frederick Ross Johnson who then headed US multinational Standard Brands, he set up 20th Century Foods to sell packaged potato chips and peanuts. The startup didn’t earn him much money, but it endeared him to Johnson, a man who would be a key figure in the infamous management takeover battle for Nabisco, captured in the gripping 1990 book Barbarians at the Gate: The Fall of RJR Nabisco by Bryan Burrough and John Helyar.
Impressed with Pillai’s derring-do and deal-making abilities, Johnson placed him in charge of Nabisco Commodities, a unit of Standard Brands. He did a good enough job and was asked to head the operations of the Asian subsidiaries of British biscuit company Huntley & Palmers.
It proved to be a springboard for his Indian tryst since the British firm had a controlling interest in Britannia India. Pillai, who bought a stake in the company, was now on a roll. Over the next few years, he partnered with French food company BSN, which later became Danone S.A., to buy into half a dozen firms across Asia, earning the title of Biscuit King.
The India entry also included an aborted and much-heralded deal with The Coca-Cola Company for its relaunch in India. Eventually, the American fizz giant called off the talks, preferring to come in solo. One reason could have been that Pillai’s growing empire, fuelled by mounting debt, was teetering on the edge. By 1993, the financial situation had turned dire, forcing him to start selling off some of his companies.
The challenger
That’s where he crossed swords with Nusli Wadia, another corporate warrior and the survivor of many a bloody takeover battle. Pillai’s seemingly unstoppable force met Wadia’s immovable object, and it was the former that had to give way.
Through a series of manoeuvres, Wadia acquired a stake in Britannia equal to that of Danone, and the two together ousted Pillai from its board. Pillai’s claims to company control were weak since Wadia and Danone controlled 51% of it. The ouster came at a huge cost for Pillai, with his former mentor Johnson now demanding the money he had given to bankroll his initial moves back.
Strapped for cash and unable to meet his debt obligations, Pillai was hauled into court by Singapore’s commercial affairs department on multiple charges, including breach of trust and fraud and running up a debt of $17.2 million. However, he was too slippery a customer to be caught so easily. He fled the country for India on the very morning of his sentencing. Back home, he earned an initial reprieve when a Kerala court granted him bail but he was subsequently arrested from Delhi’s Meridien Hotel by the CBI in July 1995.
The downfall
Pillai now saw the other side of fame and fortune. His erstwhile friends and social acquaintances dropped him like a hot potato. As a disciple of Chandraswami who exercised great influence in the corridors of power, he hoped for some help from the self-styled godman. None came.
Suffering from cirrhosis of the liver, he died in July 1995, just four days into his incarceration, apparently for the lack of medical treatment.
Nina Gopika Nair, his feisty wife, alleged that his death was part of a conspiracy, though later in court, she refused to name the alleged conspirators.
However, a commission headed by Justice Leila Seth did explore the allegation. Though it didn’t find any evidence of the conspiracy, it recommended major reforms to the prison system that had allowed a sick man to die without recourse to treatment.
Pillai was certainly no angel when it came to dodgy business practices, as the charges against him proved. But he did have the fire in the belly and the chutzpah needed to be successful in global business. Overambition, which led him to overload on debt and a tendency to take on too many powerful adversaries, at the same time proved his undoing.
But for his efforts, he deserved better than a painful and lonely death in a prison cell. A Wasted Death, his brother Rajmohan Pillai’s book on him, sums up his life succinctly.
