Frank Huzur: The Unseen Rebel Who Navigated Politics with Creativity and Integrity

The sudden and untimely demise of author-activist Frank Huzur has shocked everyone who knew him. He reportedly passed away at a hospital in Delhi due to cardiac failure in the intervening night of March 5th-6th. Though there was no clarification in the beginning about his whereabouts, it was certain that his last meeting was with Rahul Gandhi on March 4th along with other activists, a group photo of which he shared with me on the same day.

Frank was an acclaimed author, and his biography of Imran Khan, entitled Imran vs Imran, was highly appreciated by critics. However, he could not continue with that tradition of internationalism. A die-hard secularist, Frank was born Manoj Kumar Yadav in the Buxar district of Bihar. He received his education at St Xavier’s Ranchi and then at Hindu College in Delhi. He began participating in cultural events, particularly theatre, at an early age under the name Manoj Kumar, as he wanted to distance himself from domestic caste identities. He was not satisfied with that and changed his name to Manoj Khan. His first drama, Hitler in Love with Madonna, was initially written under the name Manoj Khan. However, the drama could not be performed due to political controversy in the mid-1990s, when Hindutva groups were gaining prominence, not just in the streets and villages of India but also in universities. There was a lot of controversy, and realizing this, he completely changed his identity to Frank Huzur. He lived in London initially but returned to India to settle in Lucknow. One does not know whether that was the right decision or not, but his creative world moved towards the rustic politics of Samajwadis in Uttar Pradesh. It must have been a difficult decision for him, but one does not know what inspired him to make this move. He remained unsatisfied with it despite giving his hundred percent to it.

We met around 2004 and became instant friends. He was very impressed with our humanist work and wanted to participate. He respected my thoughts and understanding of not only the caste issues in India but also admired my knowledge of important international issues. He had a great grasp of the language and knew well how to ‘play with words’, but somehow his talent remained unused and unrecognized. Years later, he jumped into the bandwagon of the Samajwadi Party and started a glossy monthly journal, Socialist Factor. Perhaps Akhilesh Yadav thought the magazine would help build his brand with the English-speaking people. Frank did everything to promote the Samajwadi Party as well as brand Mulayam and Akhilesh. However, it is also the fact that the magazine was not merely devoted to the Samajwadi Party. Frank used his connections with creative people from all over the world to write for the journal. He was extremely fond of me and would ask me to contribute regularly, which I always did. To propagate the Samajwadi Party and its agenda, Frank used his soft writing skills to write portraits and lives of the prominent leaders. Later, he wrote biographies not only of Mulayam Singh Yadav but also of Akhilesh Yadav.

Frank Huzur was given a bungalow in Lucknow during the Samajwadi Party government headed by Akhilesh Yadav. It became the office of Socialist Factor, where he put all his creativity on the walls and lawns of his house. He was fond of photography and deeply in love with his wife, Femina Mukta Singh, and their son, Marcos. Their love story fascinated everyone, and even after years of marriage, they remained deeply in love with each other.

His house became a center for all the young or old Samajwadis who would come to Lucknow for their work and stay there. He was a great host, but that was the price you pay to be part of a political culture. The people who thronged his place didn’t necessarily respect his intellect but his connections. The crowd that came to his house were political activists who felt that Frank’s connections with top echelons of Samajwadi Party leadership would help them, and secondly, they were getting the necessary support in terms of hospitality. Though Femina Mukta Singh is also a creative person, I feel they both had to pay a price for this kind of ‘political activism,’ which they were not familiar with. The resources given for Socialist Factor were not much, so Frank could not run an independent autonomous office with several staff, including writers and editors. The magazine did not do well in terms of circulation and could gain nothing from advertisements because, except for being a trophy for some of the Samajwadi Party workers, it was not of much use to them. Afterwards, Frank started Socialist Factor in Hindi, which aimed to galvanize the party workers in Uttar Pradesh. He started participating in Samajwadi Party rallies and meetings all over the state, not only reporting but also finding people who could write regularly. This was a difficult task, as political activists on the ground are not supposed to be more than sloganeers. To find writers from political activists on the ground is difficult because ‘intellectualism’ is a ‘drawing room’ work. Political parties want pamphleteers, and even more than that, they want you to be as artificial as possible in their ‘glorification’.

Some want you to be their ghostwriters, but none want you to become the propagandists of their ideology. The parties that are surviving today have a history of ideological propaganda, and none understands this better than the Dravidian parties. They enriched the political discourse and encouraged youngsters and creative people. That spirit is absent in North India.

After Akhilesh Yadav was out of office, Frank Huzur became a target, and one day he was forcibly evicted from his house. He lost many cats, and there were difficulties for him. After Socialist Factor, his house had become a place for young Samajwadi Party activists who would come and stay over. Frank was investing more into social capital, but the fact is that people were merely coming to him because they felt he had powerful connections with Akhilesh Yadav. Perhaps that resulted in internal backbiting, and soon he was out of favor, though Akhilesh Yadav provided him with a place to stay—a house where Mulayam Singh Yadav used to stay. But Frank was finding it difficult.

It is difficult for a creative person to be comfortable in a political party, particularly if the leaders want you to be their propaganda tool. Frank was a great copy editor and writer. He could have been used in Samajwadi Party’s media department, but that did not happen. There was no space for him in the social media cell where he could have excelled and helped the party. The party was looking for ‘professionals’ and must have invested a lot into it.

I have always asked why the Bahujan parties mostly encourage and support the Brahmanical ‘intellectualism’ or so-called ‘liberals’ and ignore those who have been associated with the Bahujan movement. Probably, they need people who can get them ‘space’ in the media. Rather than creating their own media, they simply wish to be part of the existing media, which has often been hostile to them. The Samajwadi Party has a history of encouraging and supporting forces that later became part of the Hindutva movement. Frankly, they had no sympathy for Samajwad or social justice—only their power and connections brought them to these parties.

It has been more than two days, and we have yet to hear anything officially from the Samajwadi Party. Neither did Akhilesh Yadav speak about him. This is extremely shocking and sad. Frank Huzur associated with the Samajwadi Party for a long time and worked diligently for the party. He was extremely loyal to Akhilesh Yadav from the beginning and did everything to protect them as the ‘greatest’ ‘Samajwadi’ leaders. I always resented many of these overhyped terminologies being used, but he continued with them, probably because of the political pressure.

I don’t know what happened between him and the Samajwadi Party, and he had to look for new avenues. He was very disappointed and slowly started moving towards the Congress Party, particularly Rahul Gandhi, who has been speaking on caste census and issues of social justice. The last meeting of Frank Huzur actually was with Rahul Gandhi, but after his return, he reportedly had a cardiac failure and was brought to the hospital but passed away.

We discussed many times the issue of a cultural organization and engagement with more and more creative people building up intellectual capital emerging from the ground and mostly from the marginalized sections, but those ideas do not excite in the age of fast-food activism. You are known for your ‘reach’ on Twitter, Instagram, and Facebook. If you don’t have anything of such kind, you are of no use to the political parties. So, an intellectual with an understanding of culture and society, particularly those who promote Bahujan philosophy and ideology, are actually ‘unwanted’ and ‘persona non grata’ for these parties.

Frank Huzur was an ‘alien’ in political activism. A creative person at heart, he could write great profiles and interesting stories, either sitting at his desk or interviewing people. Unfortunately, he was often compelled to do things that went against his intellect. A liberal humanist, he enjoyed evenings with his friends and family, but politics started taking its toll. He was a creative individual, yet in the din of political activism, he had little time to devote to his creativity. Political activism is not meant for creative people unless they are fully immersed in the shouting brigade of their respective parties, influencing their “jaatis”—which Frank was not comfortable with.

In India, surviving as an autonomous writer is nearly impossible; you need recognition from your party or community to be acknowledged as a writer. Unfortunately, this often turns into political sloganeering and pamphleteering. The reality is that today’s writers are rapidly becoming part of this system. Independent thinkers are despised because of the intense competition everywhere. People are willing to “crawl if asked to bend,” as LK Advani famously said about the Emergency period. But today, we are even worse than that, resulting in the isolation of those who maintain principled stands. Frank was caught in this tension—doing something that was not natural to him. Political activism did not give him what he deserved, yet it demanded “full loyalty,” even at the cost of his creativity, which had to be converted into a propaganda tool for the party. In response, the body does things that the heart and mind resist, leading to depression and suffocation. Many are suffering like this today.

We critique capitalism, fanaticism, and religious bigotry, but ironically, these are the only things thriving in the market. Those who remain uncompromising feel suffocated and unwanted because they can’t submit to the demands of flattery or total submission. Without such compromises, they face rejection and isolation. This crisis is serious and demands urgent introspection.

Frank Huzur’s creative potential remained unfulfilled and unutilized. His talent could have served the party and its leadership, to whom he devoted his life for over twenty years. Sadly, neither the Samajwadi Party nor its leadership have expressed condolences or sympathy for his wife, Mukta Singh, and son, Marcos, even today. In this age of social media, such disregard is troubling. It reflects the growing brutality of our political system, where leaders become increasingly insensitive. Today, value is measured by your “reach” on social media, not by your intellect or contributions. Competing with media “professionals” is a difficult and often unwanted task for intellectuals. Political leaders now prefer personalities like Kumar Vishwas, or the Babas from Art of Living or Bageshwar, rather than creative individuals who may challenge the status quo. Frank Huzur’s untimely death is a warning to those who find themselves unable to compete in the social media-driven world. It underscores the harsh reality of market-driven politics, where your capability and intellect count for little if you don’t have “reach.”

Frank Huzur became a victim of this trap. He dedicated his life, hoping his creativity would flourish, but it never did. This must have been deeply frustrating for him, impacting his health. Frank will be especially missed by the young aspirants in Bahujan communities who dreamed of entering the creative world. Our sincere condolences.