Although Anna Hazare has been able to epitomise public anger against corruption in high places, euphoric descriptions of these events as the beginnings of a middle-class inspired “revolution” or as an example of “street power” prevailing over “state power” (as in Egypt) are uncalled for.

To see in the 73-year-old activist another Jayaprakash Narayan in the making or even a Vishwanath Pratap Singh would be premature. Mr Hazare himself has argued that the fight against corruption has only just begun — but this struggle has to go far, far beyond an empowered Lokpal, better electronic voting machines or the right of voters to recall their elected representatives.
Until the nexus among politicians, businesspersons and criminals — which is facilitated by the bureaucracy — is considerably weakened and unless the manner in which election campaigns are funded is radically altered, much of civil society’s desire to reduce the incidence of corruption in the country would be meaningless. Consequently, the so-called popular “uprising” to create institutional systems whereby the corrupt are expeditiously identified, prosecuted and punished, would get dissipated despite the overdose of righteous indignation that has been expressed, especially by some of our hyperactive television anchors.
There remains a lot about putting together the structure of an empowered people’s ombudsman or Lokpal that will not be easily resolved by the committee that has equal representation from the government as well as those who are supposed to represent the diverse and fractious “civil society” of this country. The contentious issues relate not just to the modalities of appointing a Lokpal, including the setting up of an electoral college, and whether his jurisdiction would prevail over not just politicians, but bureaucrats and judges as well.
Let us for the time being believe that the Lokpal’s relationship with law-enforcing authorities and agencies responsible for investigating criminal acts of corruption — such as the Central Bureau of Investigation, the Central Vigilance Commission, to name only two — would be seamless, if not smooth. Let us also optimistically assume that the Lokpal himself would behave in a transparent manner and also be “responsible” when it comes to critical areas where corruption overlaps with foreign relations and national security. Even if one presumes that these controversial contentions can — and will — be amicably resolved within the deadlines set by Mr Hazare, the question of the Lokpal not having to seek either the government’s or Parliament’s prior permission/sanction to act against the corrupt in high places would still have to be thrashed out. This will not be easy but nevertheless worth attempting.
Take the case of the Karnataka Lokayukta Justice N. Santosh Hegde’s detailed investigations into illegal iron ore mining in Andhra Pradesh’s Bellary district in recent years. His reports have been well-documented. His findings have been endorsed by reports prepared by bodies that operate under the Union government, among which was the technical regulator of the ministry of mines, the Indian Bureau of Mines. But ask Justice Hegde why the state government under B.S. Yeddyurappa has virtually chosen to ignore his recommendations and why whatever action that has been initiated so far has been cosmetic, to put it rather mildly? Why indeed?
The reasons are obvious. The promoters of privately-owned mining companies in Bellary and the adjoining Ananthapur district, who used to fund the activities of political leaders in the past, are today important politicians themselves. Among them are the Gali Reddy brothers, two of whom hold ministerial positions in the Yeddyurappa government. Gali Janardhana Reddy is minister for tourism and infrastructure development and Gali Karunakara Reddy is revenue minister while Gali Somasekhara Reddy is president, Karnataka Milk Federation. A close associate of the Reddy brothers, B. Sreeramulu, is health minister in the state government. The Reddy brothers and their supporters have links with influential politicians in Andhra Pradesh (like Y.S. Jaganmohan Reddy) where they have promoted the Obulapuram Mining Company.
This is merely one instance of the nexus between politics, business and crime. There are many such examples across the country. Many believe (and rightly so) that the fountainhead of corruption in India is the manner in which election campaigns of politicians and political parties are covertly funded. According to the Representation of the People Act, 1951, the autonomous and independent Election Commission of India is meant to ensure that the expenditure incurred by individual candidates (whether at the national or at local levels) adhere to a “model code of conduct” wherein expenditure limits and heads of spending are clearly specified.
However, there are glaring loopholes in the law. Political parties can spend unlimited amounts on the campaigns of their candidates as can his friends and associates. If corporate captains or criminals “invest” in the election of a particular person, it is hardly surprising that they would seek to “recover” the expenses incurred through questionable means after the concerned candidate becomes a member of Parliament (MP), a member of Legislative Assembly or a minister. It has been estimated that close to a fourth of all elected MPs in India have criminal records, though not all of them have been accused of “heinous” crimes or acts of corruption.
Mr Hazare’s sudden popularity is a consequence of the middle classes’ need for a new “hero” after a number of “villains” like A. Raja and Suresh Kalmadi have hogged headlines, points out political scientist Yogendra Yadav. But this anti-corruption movement can hope to proceed thus far and no further if it posits issues in binary terms — primarily, the “good” NGO activist versus the “bad” politico. If that indeed happens (as seems likely at present) corruption will not be rooted out, leave alone reduced.

Paranjoy Guha Thakurta is an educator and commentator