United we subvert
Two years ago, the sheer numbers that the Anna Hazare movement brought on the streets put the fear of god into politicians. The Anna Hazare protests were overdone and over-the-top. Their demands — including a Lokpal law that would have created a draconian bureaucratic ombudsman — were exaggerated and unrealistic.
Nevertheless, to the common citizen, fed up of the excesses of a corruption-ridden government and a political class that lived in its own self-serving cocoon, Hazare and his compatriots offered a degree of satisfaction. They were forcing politicians to sweat, albeit temporarily.
Just how temporary that satisfaction was has been apparent in recent days.
On three separate issues, the political class has joined hands, across political parties and bridging the government-Opposition divide, to nullify initiatives by independent institutions. With their sledgehammer approach, India’s politicians have pitted themselves against middle class sentiment on all three issues.
First, take the Supreme Court verdict banning people in police or judicial custody from contesting elections and disqualifying MPs and MLAs convicted in criminal cases, without the three-month period of appeal. While the first part of the verdict certainly seems unfair and could result in victimisation of political rivals by a vindictive state government, the disqualification ruling was actually welcomed by many. Yes, if the conviction were overturned by a subsequent judgment and a higher court, the legislator in question would lose out. After all, a byelection may have taken place in the interim.
The fact is, however, we are not talking about MPs who have defaulted on an Residents Welfare Association (RWA) subscription payment; we are talking of those accused of and indicted for criminal charges. Rather than demand blanket immunity till final conviction by the Supreme Court, would it not have been proper and right to respect the principle of the matter and work with the judiciary to institute a fast-track appeal process for such legislators? That would ensure justice is done and the people’s choice is also respected.
Political parties, however, came together to simply negate the Supreme Court verdict — no nuances, no caveats, no nothing. Second, a few months ago, the Central Information Commission brought six national parties under the Right to Information (RTI) Act. As has been argued, several of the processes and internal mechanisms of political parties — such as how they choose candidates — are not necessarily open to RTI audit, though democracy would demand a greater transparency for them anyhow. The sources of funding for and accounts of political parties are already available with the Election Commission (EC) and an RTI application at Nirvachan Sadan can be used to access them.
So what did the political parties need to do? Accepting the urgency of openness and transparency, they could have agreed to parallel information officers in the party offices — complementing the information officer at the EC — who would willingly provide funding details and even put these up proactively on party websites.
That aside, they could have approached the CIC and urged it to clarify precisely which elements of a political party’s functions could legitimately come under the RTI ambit and state their misgivings about the law being used to access privileged information.
Political parties, however, came together to simply negate the CIC ruling — no nuances, no caveats, no nothing.
Third, at an all-party meeting with the EC, political parties asserted their right to promise freebies in their election manifestos. Discussing guidelines for such manifestos, the parties insisted promising televisions sets and the like were no different from promising developmental programmes. The Congress representative called it a political party’s prerogative. The BJP representative said offering a television or a grinder was “not a mere inducement but a welfare scheme.”
At a philosophical level can one distinguish between a promise of a general nature — more rural roads — and of a specific one: one laptop per family?
Perhaps not. Yet, here again the idea was to curtail giving away gifts that amounted to crude bribes, not to block the perfectly expected offer of welfare and developmental programmes.
The parties could have sought to cooperate with the EC to put together guidelines for manifestos that eschewed such wasteful promises. More than a legal and watertight separation of general promises — aimed at society or vast sections of people — and specific offers of gadgets to individuals, a new and enlightened set of conventions could have been evolved.
After all, a lot of what the EC uses to discipline political parties — including the Model Code of Conduct that is in operation between calling of elections and verdict day — is based on conventions and a sense of propriety, rather than legal teeth. Could similar sensitivity not have been brought into the manifesto process?
Political parties, however, came together to ignore the EC’s counsel and brazenly defend a freebie culture — no nuances, no caveats, no nothing.
What is the lesson from all this? In each of the cases cited above, the political class had half a point and could have shown grace by bowing to or accommodating the public mood while defending its half a point. Instead, political parties went overkill, brushed aside public sentiment and where they could take an inch, unilaterally decided to take a full mile.
No wonder they find themselves ranged against independent institutions — and running contrary to the popular mood. After such brazenness, what forgiveness?
Ashok Malik can be contacted at malikashok@gmail.com
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