With a heart for humanity, the corporate angel saw potential where others saw problems.
In a world hungry for inspiration, Ananda’s role in the rock-relief movement, Live Aid, in 1985, still shines as an extraordinary act of kindness.
Ananda died on Thursday, aged 86, and tributes to him would be incomplete without his part in the expression of musicians’ concern for the starving of Ethiopia.
By quietly making a difference, he demonstrated that effective philanthropy doesn’t require headlines.
He was so low-key that he did not want his name highlighted in the transcontinental benefit concert to alleviate famine in Ethiopia.
His name was not among the people the Live Aid Foundation had thanked for making the global jukebox a reality in an ad in The Wall Street Journal.
An article, “Live Aid’s Shy Tycoon”, in Newsweek, an American weekly magazine, brought him into the limelight.
The world read: “Conspicuously missing (from the list) was the man who provided much of Live Aid’s money and brainpower: a shy oil baron named Tatparanandam Ananda Krishnan.”
Money and brainpower
Ananda was then 47 years old, controlling Excorp, one of the largest independent oil traders in the Far East.
His Denver-based oil company, Pexco USA Ltd, was engaged in oil exploration in Colorado, Oklahoma, Texas and Louisiana.
According to Newsweek, Ananda seemed a little bored with the oil business, and wanted to broadcast sports and entertainment events around the world.
He wanted to turn the earth into a global village and sought to invest what he called “social venture capital” in causes that would help the world’s underprivileged.
The Harvard-trained businessman felt that the less suffering there is in the world, the better the climate for business
Live Aid gave Ananda a chance to test his beliefs.
In the mid-1980s, famine ravaged Ethiopia, captured global attention. Bob Geldof, the Irish musician and activist, envisioned Live Aid to raise funds and awareness.
However, staging such an ambitious event required substantial financial backing.
In 1984, Ananda read a story about Geldof, recounting how the rocker had recruited other British artistes to record the hit song, “Do They Know It’s Christmas/Feed The World”.
Geldof enlisted Midge Ure, the frontman of the band Ultravox, to help him write and record the song, and proceeds from the sale of the record were to go to famine relief.
Ananda was absorbed.
He told Newsweek: “Instead of simply giving money to a charity, I wanted to invest it in someone who could raise large amounts of money.”
Ananda called Geldof, leader of the Irish new wave band The Boomtown Rats, to offer his help.
It turned out that the Band Aid Trust, the organisation set up to disburse the record’s proceeds, was barred under British charity regulations from using the funds it raised to pay for overhead expenses.
Ananda offered to pick up those costs.
Geldof also told Ananda about his vision of bringing together the world’s greatest rock musicians for a huge benefit concert.
It seemed almost fated that Ananda’s plan to put together mega events was taking shape.
Ananda had in early 1985 formed Worldwide Sports and Entertainment with Michael Mitchell, an executive who had helped stage the 1984 Olympics in Los Angeles.
He introduced Geldof to Mitchell, then put up US$750,000 in seed money and a US$1 million letter of credit to get the massive concert rolling.
Ananda’s legacy of giving
To some, Live Aid was a beautiful moment of idealism and compassion.
Ananda’s role in it exemplifies the transformative power of blending business acumen with a commitment to humanity.
By supporting an event that united the world against famine, he not only showcased the potential of technology and global collaboration, but also highlighted the impact a single visionary can have on the lives of millions.
In Malaysia, Ananda built a multimedia empire in the early 1990s, inspired by Live Aid’s breakthrough in broadcast and satellite technology.
Ananda’s involvement in Live Aid was just one chapter in a life characterised by philanthropy.
Through his Usaha Tegas Foundation, he has supported numerous educational initiatives, scholarships, and charitable organisations in Malaysia.
Ananda was pluralistic in his approach, his foundation cutting across ethnic and religious lines.
His story reminds us that true generosity doesn’t seek applause but thrives in the quiet corners of selflessness.
A force for good
Live Aid demonstrated that compassion could be commodified in the interest of the greater good.
In an era commonly remembered as one of egotistical greed and unfeeling indifference, a third of the world’s population turned to their television sets to watch an exercise in empathy.
The most luminous rock and pop stars in the world performed in London and Philadelphia.
The concerts gave rise to the trend of high-profile, celebrity-endorsed charitable efforts, and changed the nature of fundraising in the process.
The extravaganza raised questions about the efficacy of celebrities advocating for foreign aid.
It also changed the nature of fundraising by introducing the factor of high visibility thanks to celebrity philanthropists.
The Live Aid concerts took place at a peak moment for idealism in rock, when top-selling musicians decided they should leverage their popularity for good works, like easing famine in Ethiopia.
How Live Aid united the world
On July 13, international satellite hookups drew a worldwide audience to Live Aid and generated tens of millions of dollars in donations.
It was half a decade before the World Wide Web existed, and an eon before live-streamed concerts became ubiquitous.
The two venues collectively drew over 150,000 spectators, and an estimated 1.5 billion viewers tuned in.
In a single day, Live Aid raised an estimated US$70 million for famine victims.
The 16-hour telecast, much of it intercutting live segments from simultaneous performances on opposite sides of the Atlantic, was an unprecedented musical event.
There had been a couple of mega TV moments in the preceding 12 months — the 1984 Summer Olympics in Los Angeles; Reagan’s second inauguration — but this was colossal.
Pop music didn’t suddenly discover altruism in the 1980s.
The idea of star-studded charity concerts date back to 1971 when former Beatle George Harrison organised The Concert for Bangladesh, a benefit for refugees in the former East Pakistan.
Do-gooder musicians took it to the next level in the ‘80s -the decade of “We Are the World,” Live Aid, Farm Aid, Band Aid and the Human Rights Now! tour on behalf of Amnesty International.
There was The Concert for New York City after 9/11 and The SARS Benefit Concert in 2003.
In 2005, Geldof revisited the Live Aid model with Live 8, a series of concerts aimed at convincing the G8 leaders to forgive debt for African nations and enact fairer trade laws.
Today, 39 years later, as famous figures continue to wield influence on social media to promote charities, Live Aid’s legacy continues to be felt in fundraising efforts and movement-building around causes.