Demonised Dalmiya puts his case for the defence

He gives establishment the vapours, but game's walking controversy will not go away. Stephen Brenkley spoke to him

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Why I had to say no

Now for the difficult part: the tour itself

There are two contrasting aspects to Jagmohan Dalmiya's career in cricket. He has never lost an election and somebody, somewhere has usually been calling for his resignation. If it has not happened yet with his latest job – not in public anyway – it will.

Three weeks ago, in what might be described as a poll shock, Dalmiya assumed the presidency of the Board of Control for Cricket in India. It was a spectacular comeback. He had never quite vanished since his period as president of the International Cricket Council ended last year but being chairman of the Asian Cricket Council kept him on the fringes internationally. Superficially, the new job is largely domestic, entailing the supervision of the game in a cricket-obsessed nation of a billion people.

But the scale, both of the country and its dedication to the game, give the president a much wider influence. Dalmiya will wield every ounce of it, which is why the rumbles of discontent and the sense of unease were so loud when his victory was announced. India needs cricket badly but in the days of big money for TV rights and globalisation of the game, the affection had better be mutual.

It is important do business with Dalmiya precisely because he means business. When he was elected by 17 votes to 13 last month he immediately grasped the nettle of England's winter tour. He shook the mandarins at Lord's (both of the England Wales Cricket Board and International Cricket Council variety) to the soles of their feet by proclaiming that if England did not go, then India were unlikely to come to England next summer. But last week Dalmiya, the archetypal cricketing politician, was pursuing conciliation not confrontation.

"I was very sure that everything would be in place for the tour," he said. "There were two issues which needed to be addressed. The first was safety and the second was security. I had no worries about safety because India is one of the safest places in the world. Security was slightly more difficult because in India cricket is an obsession, it is almost a religion. Fans want to see the players, they mob them outside the hotels though they are not allowed inside. The security is not in private hands or the BCCI, is in the hands of the police and it will work. There will be no communal trouble because cricket is a mixed game." All then is hunky dory between Dalmiya and the ECB. "The ECB are sending the best team they can. I think that the players who aren't coming have been misinformed but the situation was abnormal. The ECB are doing their best."

Dalmiya's rise started early. He was a talented club cricketer who inherited his family's large Calcutta construction company at 19 in the Fifties. In the Sixties he joined the Ranjusthan club as administrator, in 1977 he was nominated for the working committee of the Bengal Cricket Association, four years later he was the secretary. Then he became BCCI secretary and first came to international prominence by ensuring, amid acrimony, that the 1996 World Cup was played in the subcontinent. It made a fortune. In 1996 he became president of the ICC.

Dalmiya has been dogged by accusations of backdoor TV deals, of standing by while match-fixing grew, of weakening the game by spreading it, of being too great a proponent of one-day cricket. Some of this may have some foundation but what really gets up the noses of the cricketing establishment in the original Test-playing countries is that he is fighting India's corner. "There are two points I should make about the involvement I was supposed to have with television negotiations," he said. "The first is that I was supposed to have negotiated too much for Doordashan [the Indian national television network] for the 1996 World Cup. But it was the biggest deal the ICC ever had. They benefited and I did not.

"The second point is that I am prepared to face those who say my dealings have not been legitimate. I am prepared to go into the witness box before the media and the world. That has not happened because those who have accused me are not prepared to be examined. It is yellow press." Dalmiya is miffed by what he sees as anti-Indian bias. But he insisted that he wanted a united game. "I think it is only the English press who say that isn't the case."

If there is a smidgin of regret about his ICC tenure it is probably to do with the growth of match-fixing, not least, it is now established, in India. "Nobody who has been banned because of association with bookmakers will be allowed back to play. As for betting, in some countries it is legal, in some it is not. In India it is not but that is a job for the government. We cannot interfere."

Not that Dalmiya is reluctant to interfere in other areas. Like the playing side. He admits to worry about the Indian team. He could not guarantee that the coach John Wright would keep his job but thought it was likely. Persistent rumours that Kapil Dev would return had escaped his attention.

Dalmiya's least concern about the possible abandonment of tours is its effect on the rolling World Championship. He is against it. But there should be relief at his declaration: "I don't like but it was a democratic vote and cricket is a democratic game."