My last four columns on civil society and law-making, with specific reference to the Anna Hazare movement, seem to have left some readers with the impression that I am a critic of all those who support his cause. On the contrary, as one who has long called for an end to the widespread public apathy of the Indian middle class about politics, I am inspired by seeing the passion of Annaji’s followers. I share their anger against corruption — which Indian does not? — and I have no doubt that the Anna movement has touched a chord amongst millions of our people.

As I made clear in my previous columns, democracy is more than Parliament; accountability between elections is vital; civil society is indispensable; and arresting Annaji was unwise, since ideas can’t be arrested. But upholding the Constitution is vital for the health of our polity. If unconstitutional means can be employed by a saintly figure with popular backing, one day they could be imposed on the nation by a less-principled demagogue. We cannot afford that risk.
It is clear what those who were thronging the streets in support of Annaji are against. They are against not only the big-ticket national corruption scandals typified by the `1,76,000 crore supposedly lost in the 2G spectrum allocation (a figure most of us cannot even comprehend, and which does not hurt Indians directly in their own pockets), but also the petty corruption that affects ordinary people daily. Every time a poor pregnant woman has to bribe an orderly to get a hospital bed to which she is entitled, or deliver her baby on the floor; every time a widow cannot get the pension that should be hers by right, without paying a clerk to process the papers; every time a son cannot obtain his own father’s death certificate without greasing the palm of a petty municipal official — Indians know that our system has failed us. They are right to vent their anger against corruption and to call for it to end.
But do the same Anna supporters know what they are for? How many of those crowding the Ramlila Maidan had read the full details of the Jan Lokpal Bill whose adoption Annaji was demanding? Do they realise the Lokpal will be able to do little about each of the examples given above?
Most people see the proposed Lokpal as a benign but stern institution — a strong anti-corruption mechanism, autonomous from the government of the day, with real power to take action against wrongdoing. Phrased like that, surely no reasonable person can oppose it?
But that is not all that Annaji demands. Some of the provisions of the Jan Lokpal Bill insisted upon by Annaji risk creating a large, omnipotent and unaccountable supra-institution that could not be challenged, reformed or removed. It would have the power to investigate, prosecute and punish corruption throughout all three branches of government, including the judiciary. Not even the Prime Minister can do that today. No one could escape the Lokpal’s reach, since it would literally be a law unto itself.
If the current governmental bodies tasked with investigation, vigilance and audit are deemed to be insufficiently impervious to corruption, what guarantee is there that the new institution of Jan Lokpal could not be infected by the same virus? If, as Team Anna alleges, half the 300 staff of the Central Vigilance Commission are themselves corrupt, where will we find the 20,000 to 30,000 saints to staff the Lokpal?
Of course, we need a strong anti-corruption body, with genuine autonomy and authority and substantial powers of action. Given the importance it has acquired in the public mind, a suitable Lokpal Bill must be passed as a matter of urgent priority. I am sure the government’s bill can be improved, and that elements favoured by Annaji should be considered. But it would be dangerous to reduce the entire issue to a simplistic solution which won’t end corruption by itself. Inspectors and prosecutors can only catch some criminals; we need to change the system so that fewer crimes are committed.
A number of related steps need to be taken to tackle corruption at its source. Campaign finance reform, simplification of laws and regulations, administrative transparency, and the reduction of discretionary powers enjoyed by officials and ministers, are all of the highest priority, too. The Right to Information Act (RTI) enacted by the first UPA government was in fact the first step in this direction. A credible Lokpal will be another.
We must build in safeguards to ensure that a new institution of Lokpal doesn’t itself fall prey to corruption. One way might well be to create a Lokpal quickly, in response to the current public demand, but to limit its existence to, say, seven years, so that any flaws in its functioning can be examined in the cold light of experience before it is renewed by a fresh Act of Parliament.
The problem of corruption runs far broader and deeper than the headlines suggest. Overcoming it requires nothing short of a change in our society’s mindset. As Gandhiji said, “Be the change you wish to see in the world.” Unless every Indian refuses to give a bribe, there will always be people prepared to take one.
Whatever the episode reveals about India, it also reveals the resilience of Indian democracy — and epitomises the transparency of India in comparison to the opaqueness of other societies.
As an elected politician, I am conscious that Anna Hazareji’s campaign has ignited the imaginations and sparked the enthusiasm of many young people in our country. That does not mean, however, that MPs should accept Team Anna’s all-or-nothing approach to the Lokpal Bill. I look forward to Parliament debating all the options available. It is important that we must not betray public expectations, but nor must we act irresponsibly.
We must do the right thing but we must do the thing right.

The writer is a member of Parliament from Kerala’s Thiruvananthapuram constituency