RAJESH SINGH
My Kashmir: The Dying of the Light
Author: Wajahat Habibullah
Publisher: Penguin/Viking
Price: Rs 499
It is a crisis that fails to be resolved and refuses to go away. Kashmir has become a melting pot of conflicts fuelled by separatists in the Valley, infiltration from across the Line of Control and high-handedness of the security forces. It is an elephant that is being probed by blind men, who all have different interpretations of what has gone wrong and what could set it right. In the process, the common citizen is caught in a seemingly unending bind, not knowing when he will be able to lead a normal life.
Wajahat Habibullah’s personalised account presents a largely grim picture of the situation, and he offers little cause for optimism, delving often in the sayings of Kashmiri Sufi saints for solace. This is a disappointment, but at least the author has been honest in his appraisal. As a retired civil servant who spent much of his career days in Jammu & Kashmir, Habibullah was often closely involved with some the most important — and defining — developments in the Valley. He speaks, therefore, from experience as much as he does from his own assessment of the crisis. Yet, one cannot agree with all that he expresses in the book, since he allows personal prejudices to come in the way of an objective analysis of certain contentious events. Two of these deserve special mention: One, the 1993 Hazratbal shrine siege; and, two, the 1990 assassination of Mirwaiz Farooq and the subsequent violence.
The author says, “To this day, the Kashmiri public holds him (then Governor Jagmohan) responsible for the murder of the Mirwaiz and of those in the funeral procession.” But Habibullah does not say whether he agrees with the view that Jagmohan should be held accountable for the Mirwaiz’s killing. Since he admits elsewhere that extremist elements within the separatist movement were responsible for the death, the author should have categorically stated that Jagmohan could not be held guilty of the act. But, while Habibullah plays safe on the Jagmohan issue, he is unequivocal in criticising him for the violence that happened thereafter, in which several people were killed when the police opened fire on the Mirwaiz’s funeral procession. He notes, “This mishandling, by no means the last by the State’s administration, turned the fully fury of public rage against the Governor.”
If Jagmohan was indeed responsible, as Habibullah says, the matter should have been resolved after the former was shunted out following the incident. But it did not; on the contrary, things went from bad to worse with successive governments and Governors. In any case, there are other versions of the firing on Mirwaiz’s funeral procession, and the author’s is not definitive.
The author’s version of the Hazratbal siege by militants details the tortuous negotiations that went into the release of inmates taken hostage by the extremists. But, while he is elaborate in laying down how the discussions proceeded, he seems to have taken a soft view on the manner in which the Indian state capitulated at every step. This was capped by the release of the ultras after they surrendered. Their release was naturally part of the agreement reached. For Habibullah, the important thing is that the shrine “emerged unscathed, free from even the suspicion of desecration”. No doubt, that was a huge relief to all, but one wished he had slammed the militants for holing up in a shrine that is revered across the State. His observation — that the “successful conclusion of the negotiation is widely perceived as a turning point in the insurgency” — is naïve, even for a person who has not had the ringside view that the author enjoyed. Barely two years later came the Charar-e-Sharief disaster, after which one of the culprits, Mast Gul, escaped to Pakistan and continued his nefarious activities against India. More incidents of unrest continued to take place even after.
Habibullah is right in detailing the blunders made by the Government of India in handling the Kashmir issue, and none can deny that a more judicious approach could have saved the Valley from the unrest. But mere discontent with the Centre’s handling of the issue cannot be reason enough for the flourishing of militancy in the State. The active desire of hardliners in the Valley to dismember Kashmir from the Indian state and their readiness to accept assistance from across the border has complicated the issue. They have never been dealt with strongly enough; instead, the police — and at times the security forces — have made the situation worse by targeting innocents and giving a handle to the militants to exploit the situation.
The author’s interpretation of the frequent calls for ‘azaadi’ is cautious. In his view, that azaadi could well be a demand for greater freedom for the ordinary Kashmiri people to get on with their lives without the threat of death hovering over their heads. They want ‘inclusivity’. Fair enough. As any another Indian citizen, the Valley’s resident too has that right, and they exercise it — if need be, through demonstrations. But what does one make of the anti-India and pro-Pakistan slogans that emanate from such processions?
A solution to the Kashmir issue won’t be possible, as the author says, without ensuring dignity to the people of Kashmir. But it will have to also provide dignity to the Indian state. The moderate leaderships in the Valley, and in our political system, will have to work together to achieve that goal.
Sunday, October 2, 2011
Thursday, September 22, 2011
First-past-the-post system has distorted Indian Parliamentary democracy
(First published in The Pioneer dated September 21, 2011)
RAJESH SINGH
Social activist Anna Hazare’s call for the next agitation to press for comprehensive electoral reforms is certain to ruffle feathers across the political spectrum. But, while the demand is not directed at any political party in particular, the UPA is likely to bear the brunt of the attack since it is the ruling combine for now. It is also a sitting duck after the amateurish manner it handled Team Anna’s Lok Pal Bill campaign, and was forced to concede the upper hand to the agitationists. Since that is widely regarded as a victory for the people long accustomed to and seething from within by the all-pervasive corruption in government functioning, any fresh onslaught over another issue of ‘people’s empowerment’ is guaranteed to trouble the central government.
If the government has learnt any lesson at all from the past, it should waste little time in formulating a strategy that demonstrates its sincere readiness to reform an electoral process which allows criminal elements to contest elections, candidate with minuscule percentage of votes to emerge winners, and victors the security of continued representation until the next elections regardless of their shoddy performance and betrayal of the people’s mandate. But many of these issues can be tackled only through structural changes in the electoral laws, changes that our policy makers have so far been reluctant to address with any seriousness. All that they have done is tinker with the provisions here and there to provide an impression of work in progress. But that work has been in progress for far too long and with little palpable result, leading to frustration and anger among the people.
The citizens do appreciate that poll reforms are complex matters and cannot be done overnight by a stroke of the pen. Yet, such changes have to begin somewhere, and begin credibly. That has not happened – perhaps because our politicians have not felt the people’s ire so far on the issue.
One of the most hotly-debated points that could form the core of the demand for structural reforms is a review of the first-past-the-post system. The issue has the ability to strike a chord with the people. There is no doubt that several experts have raised questions about the wisdom to tamper with the current system, but then there are as many other eminent persons who believe that the change can be brought about if the political class is sincere about qualitative electoral reforms.
So, is the government serious about structural reforms? It does not appear so. The Prime Minister is supposed to call an all-party meet to discuss poll reforms, but from what Union Law Minister Salman Khursheed has recently said, it is clear that the crucial issue may not figure in the discussion. The reluctance of the government to address the matter is evident also from the Background Paper on Electoral Reforms prepared by a core committee under the Union Law Ministry and co-sponsored by the Election Commission of India in December 2010. The report candidly states: “A number of committees have discussed major structural reforms of the electoral system, such as a shift away from the first past the post system of representation. We will explore options for electoral reforms within the framework of the current system and will not address these larger structural issues in this paper.”
This was an opportunity gone waste, because it was perhaps for the first time that the Union Law Ministry was directly involved in an elaborate exercise to discuss poll reforms. Until then, only the Election Commission of India was seen as the torch-bearer for such changes. By limiting deliberations to the “current framework”, there will be very little of the changes that the people want, and can be made. Since the background paper is an assimilation of the various points of views that have come before the government through recommendations from various panels on electoral reforms, no harm would have been caused if suggestions for structural changes too had been included.
But, by not doing so the central government cannot wish away the matter. Sooner than later it will have to take the bull by the horns, because public demand for such changes is growing by the day. Former Chief Election Commissioner T S Krishnamurthy in his book The Miracle of Democracy says, “There is also an urgent need for public debate on the first-past-the-post system…” He quotes former Supreme Court judge, Justice V R Krishna Iyer, who in his characteristically blunt style remarks, “This is not government by the people. If adult suffrage and its majority presence through the polls are to be a reality, considerable legal and strategic changes are necessary…” These are just the kind of changes that only a structural reform can achieve.
Former Union Home Secretary Madhav Godbole in his masterful study of parliamentary democracy, reflects on the first-past-the-post system in his book India’s Parliamentary Democracy on Trial that, “In such a situation, the ruling political party with the largest number of seats does not enjoy the real mandate of the people in terms of the vote share.”
Godbole argues that it would be best to discard the first-past-the-post system which is responsible for victors to emerge in elections despite polling a minority number of votes. He points out, “In the election to Uttar Pradesh Assembly held in 2007, 96.53 per cent of the winners polled less than 50 per cent of the votes cast.”
Let us look at some other figures. In the 2004 Lok Sabha elections, only 40 per cent of winners were elected by polling more than 50 per cent of the total votes cast. The rest polled a minority number. As former Union Minister and author Arun Shourie points out in his book, The Parliamentary System, “99 per cent of the members got into the Lok Sabha by getting less than half the electors to vote for them.”
He provides another figure that explains the disdain of many of our politicians to meaningful reforms in the electoral system. In elections to the Uttar Pradesh State Assembly seats between 2001 and 2005, for instance, 62 per cent of candidates became the ‘people’s representatives’ by attracting less than 20 per cent of the votes.
Clearly then, the first-past-the-post system has yielded a distorted picture of voter preference over the decades, and that fact was reiterated even more than a decade earlier, in a May 1999 report on electoral reforms prepared by the Law Commission of India. It observed, “…What is happening is that a political party which has received, say 32 per cent of the total votes cast, is obtaining 70 per cent of the seats in Parliament.” But the Commission then went on to suggest a rather complicated system, under which some seats would be filled according to the first past the post system and some from the list of candidates provided by the political parties. But that still leaves the problem of the inequities of the first-past-the-post system.
The biggest and the most important stakeholder in our parliamentary democracy is the ordinary citizen. He cannot be any more short-circuited by a system that compels him to accept as his representative a candidate who has not been chosen by the majority number. The first-past-the-post system should be abolished and replaced instead with a provision that, for a candidate to win, he must secure 50 per cent of the total votes polled plus one more. That will certainly be a better form of people’s representation in the Parliament and the state Assemblies.
RAJESH SINGH
Social activist Anna Hazare’s call for the next agitation to press for comprehensive electoral reforms is certain to ruffle feathers across the political spectrum. But, while the demand is not directed at any political party in particular, the UPA is likely to bear the brunt of the attack since it is the ruling combine for now. It is also a sitting duck after the amateurish manner it handled Team Anna’s Lok Pal Bill campaign, and was forced to concede the upper hand to the agitationists. Since that is widely regarded as a victory for the people long accustomed to and seething from within by the all-pervasive corruption in government functioning, any fresh onslaught over another issue of ‘people’s empowerment’ is guaranteed to trouble the central government.
If the government has learnt any lesson at all from the past, it should waste little time in formulating a strategy that demonstrates its sincere readiness to reform an electoral process which allows criminal elements to contest elections, candidate with minuscule percentage of votes to emerge winners, and victors the security of continued representation until the next elections regardless of their shoddy performance and betrayal of the people’s mandate. But many of these issues can be tackled only through structural changes in the electoral laws, changes that our policy makers have so far been reluctant to address with any seriousness. All that they have done is tinker with the provisions here and there to provide an impression of work in progress. But that work has been in progress for far too long and with little palpable result, leading to frustration and anger among the people.
The citizens do appreciate that poll reforms are complex matters and cannot be done overnight by a stroke of the pen. Yet, such changes have to begin somewhere, and begin credibly. That has not happened – perhaps because our politicians have not felt the people’s ire so far on the issue.
One of the most hotly-debated points that could form the core of the demand for structural reforms is a review of the first-past-the-post system. The issue has the ability to strike a chord with the people. There is no doubt that several experts have raised questions about the wisdom to tamper with the current system, but then there are as many other eminent persons who believe that the change can be brought about if the political class is sincere about qualitative electoral reforms.
So, is the government serious about structural reforms? It does not appear so. The Prime Minister is supposed to call an all-party meet to discuss poll reforms, but from what Union Law Minister Salman Khursheed has recently said, it is clear that the crucial issue may not figure in the discussion. The reluctance of the government to address the matter is evident also from the Background Paper on Electoral Reforms prepared by a core committee under the Union Law Ministry and co-sponsored by the Election Commission of India in December 2010. The report candidly states: “A number of committees have discussed major structural reforms of the electoral system, such as a shift away from the first past the post system of representation. We will explore options for electoral reforms within the framework of the current system and will not address these larger structural issues in this paper.”
This was an opportunity gone waste, because it was perhaps for the first time that the Union Law Ministry was directly involved in an elaborate exercise to discuss poll reforms. Until then, only the Election Commission of India was seen as the torch-bearer for such changes. By limiting deliberations to the “current framework”, there will be very little of the changes that the people want, and can be made. Since the background paper is an assimilation of the various points of views that have come before the government through recommendations from various panels on electoral reforms, no harm would have been caused if suggestions for structural changes too had been included.
But, by not doing so the central government cannot wish away the matter. Sooner than later it will have to take the bull by the horns, because public demand for such changes is growing by the day. Former Chief Election Commissioner T S Krishnamurthy in his book The Miracle of Democracy says, “There is also an urgent need for public debate on the first-past-the-post system…” He quotes former Supreme Court judge, Justice V R Krishna Iyer, who in his characteristically blunt style remarks, “This is not government by the people. If adult suffrage and its majority presence through the polls are to be a reality, considerable legal and strategic changes are necessary…” These are just the kind of changes that only a structural reform can achieve.
Former Union Home Secretary Madhav Godbole in his masterful study of parliamentary democracy, reflects on the first-past-the-post system in his book India’s Parliamentary Democracy on Trial that, “In such a situation, the ruling political party with the largest number of seats does not enjoy the real mandate of the people in terms of the vote share.”
Godbole argues that it would be best to discard the first-past-the-post system which is responsible for victors to emerge in elections despite polling a minority number of votes. He points out, “In the election to Uttar Pradesh Assembly held in 2007, 96.53 per cent of the winners polled less than 50 per cent of the votes cast.”
Let us look at some other figures. In the 2004 Lok Sabha elections, only 40 per cent of winners were elected by polling more than 50 per cent of the total votes cast. The rest polled a minority number. As former Union Minister and author Arun Shourie points out in his book, The Parliamentary System, “99 per cent of the members got into the Lok Sabha by getting less than half the electors to vote for them.”
He provides another figure that explains the disdain of many of our politicians to meaningful reforms in the electoral system. In elections to the Uttar Pradesh State Assembly seats between 2001 and 2005, for instance, 62 per cent of candidates became the ‘people’s representatives’ by attracting less than 20 per cent of the votes.
Clearly then, the first-past-the-post system has yielded a distorted picture of voter preference over the decades, and that fact was reiterated even more than a decade earlier, in a May 1999 report on electoral reforms prepared by the Law Commission of India. It observed, “…What is happening is that a political party which has received, say 32 per cent of the total votes cast, is obtaining 70 per cent of the seats in Parliament.” But the Commission then went on to suggest a rather complicated system, under which some seats would be filled according to the first past the post system and some from the list of candidates provided by the political parties. But that still leaves the problem of the inequities of the first-past-the-post system.
The biggest and the most important stakeholder in our parliamentary democracy is the ordinary citizen. He cannot be any more short-circuited by a system that compels him to accept as his representative a candidate who has not been chosen by the majority number. The first-past-the-post system should be abolished and replaced instead with a provision that, for a candidate to win, he must secure 50 per cent of the total votes polled plus one more. That will certainly be a better form of people’s representation in the Parliament and the state Assemblies.
Thursday, September 8, 2011
Soft government, soft state, hard terror
(First published in The Pioneer on September 8, 2011)
RAJESH SINGH
The high intensity terror attack at the Delhi High Court on Wednesday, September 7, underscores the bitter reality which the UPA Government obstinately refuses to concede: We are a soft state that has spectacularly failed to decisively act against terrorism. We are open to being pounded by terrorists again and again and again. The softness comes not merely by the fact we have become such an easy target, to be picked at will, but also by the more worrisome truth that we have done little to put fear into the minds of a potential terrorist — the fear that if you are caught you will not escape the death penalty. Recent incidents have demonstrated that the terrorists need not bother much about that eventuality, even if the courts awarded the death sentence the terror convict can live on through the process of a clemency plea to the President, who can then take years to decide on the matter, allowing the convict to yet again appeal to the courts against the delay in deciding on his (or her) mercy petition.
Only a soft state can indulge in such farcical processes. The absence of harsh measures and quicker forms of justice is not the fallacy of the law in place, although even courts often take far too long to dispose of terror attack cases. It is a result of the complete absence of a strong political will — a will that should be guided more by the larger good of the country and less by parochial considerations of religion and diplomacy. Yet, it is the latter that we have seen more and more of. We are a nation in which even the killers of a former Prime Minister (Rajiv Gandhi) have managed to escape the noose for years, where the prime convict in a terror attack on Parliament — no less — continues to play hide and seek despite being given the death sentence by the court. It will surprise no one if, eventually, the 26/11 Mumbai attack convict Ajmal Kasab too gets off the hook for a decade or more or even forever.
Where does the common man look to for justice? Is there a forum for the victims of these incessant attacks that they can trust? Parliament, which supposedly represents the people of the country, has done away with strong Acts to tackle terrorism. POTA and TADA were abolished on the ground that they were too harsh and harmed the fundamental rights of the accused. Instead we now have a law that several experts have said is incapable of fighting terror. As if that was not enough, several politicians from the UPA have been for long gunning for the Armed Forces Special Powers Act that is crucial to battling terrorism, especially of the across-the-border variety. They want it to be scrapped, and they want us to believe that the existing laws to tackle theft, loot and arson are good enough for the hardened terrorists who blow up people and shoot indiscriminately at people. We are told that the local police force, that in the best of times struggles to nab even a petty criminal, is equipped to handle terrorists, engage them in long-drawn encounters and emerge victorious. So, who has the last laugh? The September 7 incident provides the answer.
But, let terror strike, again and yet again. How does it matter! Our politicians are now consumed with the feeling of forgiveness that is overflowing from their tender hearts. The Tamil Nadu Assembly passes a resolution seeking mercy for Rajiv Gandhi’s killers. Jammu & Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah blatantly wonders what the reaction would be if his State Assembly adopted a similar resolution for Parliament attack convict Afzal Guru. Quick to pick the hint, a Kashmir legislator decides to present the resolution in the House. Forgiveness is in the air.
So is reconciliation. Several members of the intelligentsia, who are far removed from the harsh ground realities, have begun to press for an end to the blood spill, to come together, forgive and forget. But will violence end by forgiving the terrorists, by giving them life when they brought death to hundreds? Will the terrorists, whose lives get spared — when it should not — turn over into a new leaf in prison? The important issue is: Will all this forgiveness and reconciliation be at par with justice? Justice for the families of those whose dear ones were consumed by terror attacks can come when the guilty are punished. If our law says that that punishment is death, then death it should be. All sorts of criminals are put to death in what the courts find as the ‘rarest of rare cases’; why should the terrorists be allowed to make a mockery of law? In any case, if our law-makers have problems with the death row, they should amend the law and abolish the death penalty.
Of course, terror strikes happen for a variety of reasons, including the lack of quality intelligence that could prevent the tragedy or the absence of adequate measures taken on the basis of specific intelligence inputs. But these are technicalities that can be fixed by tweaking or overhauling the system. This is a continuing process that countries like the US and Israel that have been hit in the past the most by terror attacks have engaged in. But they have also struck ruthlessly at their attackers, risking even the ire of the world community. Unfortunately, we have not, and that has further emboldened the attackers.
Not just that, we do not have the courage to even diplomatically counter the offensive. So, we continue to engage Pakistan even after it repeatedly rubbishes the tomes of evidence that we have provided on the 26/11 Mumbai terror attack and refuses to act decisively against individuals and institutions that openly spew venom against India from its soil. We are ever eager to offer the US, whose economy is in a crisis, our huge markets even as Washington, DC continues to offer financial aid and military ware to Islamabad, much of which we know will get directed against us. What prevents us from using the leverage of our economy to push the US into trimming or even cutting off aid to Pakistan, or to stop talking to Islamabad until it meets our core concerns? Our softness as a nation.
In the last three years, there have been three major terrorist attacks in the country — two in Delhi and one in Mumbai. They all have some Pakistani linkage. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh says terrorism will be effectively dealt with. We have heard that before. None of his or his Government’s actions has so far indicated any real resolve to do that. Before long, some senior member of his party will get into the act and say that the recent attack was planned by the Right-wing fundamentalists, even as investigators grapple with different sorts of evidence. But the Prime Minister will not have the courage to tick him off, because that party leader could be enjoying the confidence of 10, Janpath.
Next >
RAJESH SINGH
The high intensity terror attack at the Delhi High Court on Wednesday, September 7, underscores the bitter reality which the UPA Government obstinately refuses to concede: We are a soft state that has spectacularly failed to decisively act against terrorism. We are open to being pounded by terrorists again and again and again. The softness comes not merely by the fact we have become such an easy target, to be picked at will, but also by the more worrisome truth that we have done little to put fear into the minds of a potential terrorist — the fear that if you are caught you will not escape the death penalty. Recent incidents have demonstrated that the terrorists need not bother much about that eventuality, even if the courts awarded the death sentence the terror convict can live on through the process of a clemency plea to the President, who can then take years to decide on the matter, allowing the convict to yet again appeal to the courts against the delay in deciding on his (or her) mercy petition.
Only a soft state can indulge in such farcical processes. The absence of harsh measures and quicker forms of justice is not the fallacy of the law in place, although even courts often take far too long to dispose of terror attack cases. It is a result of the complete absence of a strong political will — a will that should be guided more by the larger good of the country and less by parochial considerations of religion and diplomacy. Yet, it is the latter that we have seen more and more of. We are a nation in which even the killers of a former Prime Minister (Rajiv Gandhi) have managed to escape the noose for years, where the prime convict in a terror attack on Parliament — no less — continues to play hide and seek despite being given the death sentence by the court. It will surprise no one if, eventually, the 26/11 Mumbai attack convict Ajmal Kasab too gets off the hook for a decade or more or even forever.
Where does the common man look to for justice? Is there a forum for the victims of these incessant attacks that they can trust? Parliament, which supposedly represents the people of the country, has done away with strong Acts to tackle terrorism. POTA and TADA were abolished on the ground that they were too harsh and harmed the fundamental rights of the accused. Instead we now have a law that several experts have said is incapable of fighting terror. As if that was not enough, several politicians from the UPA have been for long gunning for the Armed Forces Special Powers Act that is crucial to battling terrorism, especially of the across-the-border variety. They want it to be scrapped, and they want us to believe that the existing laws to tackle theft, loot and arson are good enough for the hardened terrorists who blow up people and shoot indiscriminately at people. We are told that the local police force, that in the best of times struggles to nab even a petty criminal, is equipped to handle terrorists, engage them in long-drawn encounters and emerge victorious. So, who has the last laugh? The September 7 incident provides the answer.
But, let terror strike, again and yet again. How does it matter! Our politicians are now consumed with the feeling of forgiveness that is overflowing from their tender hearts. The Tamil Nadu Assembly passes a resolution seeking mercy for Rajiv Gandhi’s killers. Jammu & Kashmir Chief Minister Omar Abdullah blatantly wonders what the reaction would be if his State Assembly adopted a similar resolution for Parliament attack convict Afzal Guru. Quick to pick the hint, a Kashmir legislator decides to present the resolution in the House. Forgiveness is in the air.
So is reconciliation. Several members of the intelligentsia, who are far removed from the harsh ground realities, have begun to press for an end to the blood spill, to come together, forgive and forget. But will violence end by forgiving the terrorists, by giving them life when they brought death to hundreds? Will the terrorists, whose lives get spared — when it should not — turn over into a new leaf in prison? The important issue is: Will all this forgiveness and reconciliation be at par with justice? Justice for the families of those whose dear ones were consumed by terror attacks can come when the guilty are punished. If our law says that that punishment is death, then death it should be. All sorts of criminals are put to death in what the courts find as the ‘rarest of rare cases’; why should the terrorists be allowed to make a mockery of law? In any case, if our law-makers have problems with the death row, they should amend the law and abolish the death penalty.
Of course, terror strikes happen for a variety of reasons, including the lack of quality intelligence that could prevent the tragedy or the absence of adequate measures taken on the basis of specific intelligence inputs. But these are technicalities that can be fixed by tweaking or overhauling the system. This is a continuing process that countries like the US and Israel that have been hit in the past the most by terror attacks have engaged in. But they have also struck ruthlessly at their attackers, risking even the ire of the world community. Unfortunately, we have not, and that has further emboldened the attackers.
Not just that, we do not have the courage to even diplomatically counter the offensive. So, we continue to engage Pakistan even after it repeatedly rubbishes the tomes of evidence that we have provided on the 26/11 Mumbai terror attack and refuses to act decisively against individuals and institutions that openly spew venom against India from its soil. We are ever eager to offer the US, whose economy is in a crisis, our huge markets even as Washington, DC continues to offer financial aid and military ware to Islamabad, much of which we know will get directed against us. What prevents us from using the leverage of our economy to push the US into trimming or even cutting off aid to Pakistan, or to stop talking to Islamabad until it meets our core concerns? Our softness as a nation.
In the last three years, there have been three major terrorist attacks in the country — two in Delhi and one in Mumbai. They all have some Pakistani linkage. Prime Minister Manmohan Singh says terrorism will be effectively dealt with. We have heard that before. None of his or his Government’s actions has so far indicated any real resolve to do that. Before long, some senior member of his party will get into the act and say that the recent attack was planned by the Right-wing fundamentalists, even as investigators grapple with different sorts of evidence. But the Prime Minister will not have the courage to tick him off, because that party leader could be enjoying the confidence of 10, Janpath.
Next >
Sunday, September 4, 2011
Happiness is on wings, grief lingers long
RAJESH SINGH
Human relationships are strange. The stronger they get the more fragile they become. Then they snap, leaving behind a trail of emotional distraught. Authors and psychologists have been for ages trying to understand the mysteries of the phenomenon, and expressing it in their ways. The general understanding is that the more complex a relationship the deeper are the fault lines. But even relatively simpler ones, such as those of friendship – even if they are very close they carry fewer burdens as compared to love affairs – are prone to break-ups. The immediate consequences are no less disastrous, and the one who suffers the most is the person who has invested emotionally the most in that relationship.
The American poet, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who wrote through the second half of the 19th century and early 20th century, and became universally popular through her lines, “Laugh and the world laughs with you/Weep, and you weep alone”, hit the nail on the head when she pointed out that, as humans we tend to hurt people who like us the most. She reflected:
There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
The Internet is full of advice on how to manage relationship disasters (just as it tells us the ways to cultivate a relationship). The ‘rational approach’, the Net educates us, should be to categorize the broken bond. Was it a toxic relationship that deserved to end? Or was it worthwhile to sustain? Social pundits tell us that, whatever the nature a break can often be refreshing to the heart and soul. At the very least, it provides an occasion to the players to re-assess the alliance objectively. It could, they point out, lead to the re-establishment of the ties or a more elaborate distancing. Robert Brault is a popular name on the Net who offers nuggets of encouragement on the subject. He philosophizes:
Sometimes two people need to step apart
and make a space between
that each might see the other anew,
in a glance across a room
or silhouetted against the moon.
If we ignore the romanticism in the poetry, it is possible to see the wisdom in the suggestion. However, emotions cannot be clinically controlled. How natural it would be for two people, until very recently close friends, to encounter each other as strangers in a room? Can one indulge in an objective assessment of the other after having provided that ‘space’, in such an unreal situation? Had this to be the way of the world, relationships would be without emotions, dry and robotic. The desire to seek space is but a lame explanation for the break-up, because any sort of meaningful human relationship inherently creates an individual space for each partner, while at the same time construing a common ground that binds two people.
On a recent television talk show hosted by Simi Garewal, well known film star Deepika Padukone spoke of the anguish she went through following her break-up. Her observations made more sense than the reams of advice experts provide, often at a price. Analyzing the reason (s) that led to the turmoil, she admitted to rather too easily getting emotionally attached to people. That fault, she said, contributed in a large way to her psychological disarray soon after the split. But it was the other remark that she made, that she gave “100 per cent” to the relationship, which was the at the core of her grief. People who remain frivolous in relationships – even though they claim to be serious – are the least affected. Those who give that 100 per cent, end up as the foolish ones.
While Deepika has managed well, eventually overcoming the crisis, a study quoted on the Internet tells us that men are less-well equipped to cope with such trauma. According to the findings of a research team of sociologists from the Wake Forest University and the Florida State University, men draw inwards and drift into loneliness when hit by a failed relationship, while the affected women seek comfort in the company of friends and family.
Author Jan Yager in his book ‘When Friendship Turns Unfriendly’ dwells at length on the ‘negative’ and the ‘positive’ of the relationship. He writes, “Too little attention has been paid to the notion that negative friendships can wreak havoc. Another reason (for writing the book) is to have a forum to explore the possible causes of finding yourself in such a relationship, and how to best rid yourself of a noxious friend”. A noxious friend is one who, among other things, does not respect you as a person, always tests your self-esteem and generally remains unconcerned with your insensitivities. Of course, it is quite possible that the person you consider as ‘noxious’, is not really so but a figment of your imagination. That problem can be taken care with better communication among the two.
However, the author is more caught up with bigger challenges, that of finding potentially dangerous friendships. He says, “Some potentially destructive or harmful friendships may be difficult to spot. That's because when a friendship is forming, during the "courtship" phase, your friend may be charming, polite, and completely appropriate. Once your friendship is well underway, a friend may change. The very act of becoming friends may send someone with intimacy problems into an emotional tailspin, changing those involved as well as their behaviour toward each other. As friends become closer and more intimate, expectations also may arise so that disappointments become more likely, and painful, than during the early stage of the evolving friendship.”
.
While it may appear fatalistic, the recognition that grief and hurt are inalienable in any relationship can help in coping with the crisis. The problem again is that such pain visits the person who is genuinely committed to a relationship and not the one who is in it for the sake of yet another exploration. A certain level of stoic, is thus, called for. Happiness is on wings, grief lingers long/Pain supports life, when all pleasure is gone.
Human relationships are strange. The stronger they get the more fragile they become. Then they snap, leaving behind a trail of emotional distraught. Authors and psychologists have been for ages trying to understand the mysteries of the phenomenon, and expressing it in their ways. The general understanding is that the more complex a relationship the deeper are the fault lines. But even relatively simpler ones, such as those of friendship – even if they are very close they carry fewer burdens as compared to love affairs – are prone to break-ups. The immediate consequences are no less disastrous, and the one who suffers the most is the person who has invested emotionally the most in that relationship.
The American poet, Ella Wheeler Wilcox, who wrote through the second half of the 19th century and early 20th century, and became universally popular through her lines, “Laugh and the world laughs with you/Weep, and you weep alone”, hit the nail on the head when she pointed out that, as humans we tend to hurt people who like us the most. She reflected:
There's one sad truth in life I've found
While journeying east and west -
The only folks we really wound
Are those we love the best.
We flatter those we scarcely know,
We please the fleeting guest,
And deal full many a thoughtless blow
To those who love us best.
The Internet is full of advice on how to manage relationship disasters (just as it tells us the ways to cultivate a relationship). The ‘rational approach’, the Net educates us, should be to categorize the broken bond. Was it a toxic relationship that deserved to end? Or was it worthwhile to sustain? Social pundits tell us that, whatever the nature a break can often be refreshing to the heart and soul. At the very least, it provides an occasion to the players to re-assess the alliance objectively. It could, they point out, lead to the re-establishment of the ties or a more elaborate distancing. Robert Brault is a popular name on the Net who offers nuggets of encouragement on the subject. He philosophizes:
Sometimes two people need to step apart
and make a space between
that each might see the other anew,
in a glance across a room
or silhouetted against the moon.
If we ignore the romanticism in the poetry, it is possible to see the wisdom in the suggestion. However, emotions cannot be clinically controlled. How natural it would be for two people, until very recently close friends, to encounter each other as strangers in a room? Can one indulge in an objective assessment of the other after having provided that ‘space’, in such an unreal situation? Had this to be the way of the world, relationships would be without emotions, dry and robotic. The desire to seek space is but a lame explanation for the break-up, because any sort of meaningful human relationship inherently creates an individual space for each partner, while at the same time construing a common ground that binds two people.
On a recent television talk show hosted by Simi Garewal, well known film star Deepika Padukone spoke of the anguish she went through following her break-up. Her observations made more sense than the reams of advice experts provide, often at a price. Analyzing the reason (s) that led to the turmoil, she admitted to rather too easily getting emotionally attached to people. That fault, she said, contributed in a large way to her psychological disarray soon after the split. But it was the other remark that she made, that she gave “100 per cent” to the relationship, which was the at the core of her grief. People who remain frivolous in relationships – even though they claim to be serious – are the least affected. Those who give that 100 per cent, end up as the foolish ones.
While Deepika has managed well, eventually overcoming the crisis, a study quoted on the Internet tells us that men are less-well equipped to cope with such trauma. According to the findings of a research team of sociologists from the Wake Forest University and the Florida State University, men draw inwards and drift into loneliness when hit by a failed relationship, while the affected women seek comfort in the company of friends and family.
Author Jan Yager in his book ‘When Friendship Turns Unfriendly’ dwells at length on the ‘negative’ and the ‘positive’ of the relationship. He writes, “Too little attention has been paid to the notion that negative friendships can wreak havoc. Another reason (for writing the book) is to have a forum to explore the possible causes of finding yourself in such a relationship, and how to best rid yourself of a noxious friend”. A noxious friend is one who, among other things, does not respect you as a person, always tests your self-esteem and generally remains unconcerned with your insensitivities. Of course, it is quite possible that the person you consider as ‘noxious’, is not really so but a figment of your imagination. That problem can be taken care with better communication among the two.
However, the author is more caught up with bigger challenges, that of finding potentially dangerous friendships. He says, “Some potentially destructive or harmful friendships may be difficult to spot. That's because when a friendship is forming, during the "courtship" phase, your friend may be charming, polite, and completely appropriate. Once your friendship is well underway, a friend may change. The very act of becoming friends may send someone with intimacy problems into an emotional tailspin, changing those involved as well as their behaviour toward each other. As friends become closer and more intimate, expectations also may arise so that disappointments become more likely, and painful, than during the early stage of the evolving friendship.”
.
While it may appear fatalistic, the recognition that grief and hurt are inalienable in any relationship can help in coping with the crisis. The problem again is that such pain visits the person who is genuinely committed to a relationship and not the one who is in it for the sake of yet another exploration. A certain level of stoic, is thus, called for. Happiness is on wings, grief lingers long/Pain supports life, when all pleasure is gone.
Sunday, August 21, 2011
When the Heart Speaks
RAJESH SINGH
Does He know a mother’s heart?
By Arun Shourie
Harper Collins
Rs 599/-
At the core of this book lies a heart. A heart that is in shock, in grief and alight with anger. It pines for answers. But the heart is a useless instrument to summon when it comes to rationalizing, to seeking explanations for excesses. It is more so the case when the target of those excesses is your beloved child and you remain a helpless spectator. And when you are told that the tragedy has been visited upon by God – and He knows best – your heart sighs and accepts the explanation without a contest. But the mind does not, often. The heart is so giving, so magnanimous that it is ready to “forgive” God, but the mind is less charitable. It demands credible answers; it demolishes established theories and seeks a way out of the emotional muddle. Thus, the mind and the heart enter into a confluence of conflict – as they do in the book – resulting in a touching yet seemingly detached scholarly study of why God (or religion) cannot be the answer to everything.
Does He know a mother’s heart? Arun Shourie does not pose a question here, he taunts. Of course He does not, is what the author really means to say. Because, if God did He would not have allowed an innocent boy – the author’s son – to be struck by a debilitating physical illness at birth, immobilizing him for life. Did the Almighty not have concern for the boy – who has not, could not have, done any wrong? Did He not pause for a moment to imagine the pain He had caused to the mother, for whom her child is the world? And what wrong had the mother done, by the way? Struck by the multiple shocks, the author could have easily turned this book into a personal journey of pathos that begged sympathy and drew tears from the readers. But Shourie, seizing this moment of private grief, launches into a detailed critique of various religious texts in a bid to be enlightened. Sadly, he finds no solace, and the effort only ends up raising uncomfortable questions.
We may or may not accept the author’s premise or his conclusions, entirely or partially, but we should not impute insidious motives to him, as some have done. One theory is that, politically frustrated, Shourie has exploited his personal grief to corner attention and sympathy – and makes some money in the process. This is a downright mean interpretation that can come only from a sick mind. The book compels you to think, re-evaluate earlier held beliefs. The end result may still be different from what the author has arrived at, but that does away from the importance of the process.
Also, as the author says early in the book, “It is not just one child. Millions and millions of children suffer, as do millions and millions of adults. That has to be explained. That apart, does the argument not work the other way? Assume that only one child is suffering, our Adit alone. As Allah has the power to create this magnificent and infinite universe, can’t he help that single child?”
There is no disputing the fact that the book is indeed a personal – and personalized –journey that the author has undertaken. We can relate to some of his observations, we cannot to others. Yet, there are notes that sink us into the depths of thought, a passage like this one:
“‘Let go,’ we are taught. But let go of what? The condition that confronts us is not curable; it is not going to go away. So, it is not that condition that we can ‘let go’. In the end we learn that it is the reactions to that condition that we have to let go. The condition lasts. The need for serving lasts. The reactions invade our mind again and again. As we observe them over the years, observing the mind becomes a habit. And we are transformed.”
If pain attracts more pain, the pained also gravitate towards those similarly afflicted. Shourie digs out passage after passage from our ancient scriptures cutting across religions that depict the sufferings of not just ordinary people, but those considered by God Himself to be close to Him. The author’s argument is two-fold: if God decides to be brutal to even his most faithful followers – at times to test them, on occasions to merely reiterate His omnipotence – what can the lesser mortals expect of Him? Secondly, why should even God have the right to devastate you without offering solid reasons, hiding behind vague excuses like: the human being deserved it for some sin he had committed, if not now, surely in a previous birth? Shourie is dissatisfied, and that he demonstrates in one scathing dissection after the other of our scriptures.
But for all the religious incorrectness the author shows throughout the book and his emphatic tone, one is left wondering whether he has actually dumped religion as an illusion, and God as non-existent. Or does he acknowledge their presence but dismisses the theory of their compassion and fairness? After all, the acceptance of a divine force does help in closing arguments as well – as much as it did in opening new lines of dispute for Shourie. If there is no God, compassionate or otherwise, whom do you blame for your troubles in desperation – the next door neighbour? Where do you take your very private grievance for redressal? Who will the author hold accountable for Adit’s condition?
Of course, the issue appears less complicated if we accept the author’s following premise:
“Suffering is a problem that requires an explanation only if we posit a God. Otherwise, it is just what Donald Rumsfeld, the former US Secretary of State would say, ‘Stuff happens’.”
Grappling with unresolved issues, Shourie finds some relief in the teaching of the Buddha. That is welcome. In dismissing the role of some past karma to justify present sufferings, the author is absolutely right in saying that “the deed that is required to overcome the effects of karma and chance is not a havan or a pilgrimage, but one that unweaves the consequences of our original deed and of chance, here and now. Abandoning everything to serve and love the child, not running from one holy place to the other.” But this is a hard lesson he learnt through experience; he went through the motions of visiting various places of worship in the desperate hope of a miracle for his son.
Buddhism is also a religion, and Buddha is God-incarnate. The great man was moved by the human sufferings, but even after his Enlightenment he could not wipe off those sufferings. In the end, there is a lot to be learnt from such sufferings. The author is so right when he observes: “No reader will think that I have learnt the lessons fully, and I hope that no reader will think that I think that I have learnt even a fraction of them.”
Read the book with an open mind and a critical eye, by all means. You will find flaws and discover faults of reasoning. But read it with your heart, and you will melt.
Monday, August 1, 2011
Hazare is the real Singham
RAJESH SINGH
Ever wondered why an ordinary film such as Singham has turned out to be a smash hit? There cannot be any cinematic value to explain that, because the Ajay Devgn starrer does not even pretend to have one. The fight sequences are Rajnithanthesque, the songs are mediocre and the acting is barely passable. If that is not enough, the film drags in parts. Yet, it occupies the pride of place as among the top first-week earners in Hindi film history. The question, then, is: What went right?
It’s the theme, stupid. The good cop versus the corrupt politician. That clicked. That united the film-goers across the country into one solid mass of Singham supporters. Religion did not matter, caste did not matter, region did not matter. Nothing mattered, except the fact that the corrupt politician should be taught a lesson, was taught a lesson. Those who have watched the film will know what the lesson was. No law of the land will endorse that punishment. The viewers who saw it being rendered on the screen knew that, and yet they cheered and whistled every time the politician and his henchmen were put to the test. The millions of people who flocked — and continue to flock — the halls to watch it all happen were, in fact, living out their dream of putting the corrupt politician in place. The success of Singham demonstrates the people’s ire towards our errant politicians, and reinforces the growing belief that, given a chance, they are in no mood to allow matters to deteriorate any further.
This is just the sort of sentiment that social activist Anna Hazare has capitalised on across the country, much like the film’s director Rohit Shetty did. Singham’s box office performance and Anna Hazare’s success have, therefore, much in common. Rest assured that were there to be a nationwide referendum on the Lok Pal Bill, the people would overwhelmingly throw out the Government version and opt for the one proposed by Anna Hazare’s group, even if one takes into account some minor changes here and there. The response would have been as dramatic as the film has received. The veteran Gandhian is the real-life Singham, though his methods unlike those of Ajay Devgn — who plays the duty-driven police officer — have not involved pounding the skull of the crook with the swiftness of a meteorite hitting the earth, and flooring the guy in the process yet he has done enough to more than rattle the Union Government, which is now truly scared of his protest fasts.
Having seen on two previous occasions the kind of massive support he garnered from across the country, not to mention on the Internet, the UPA Government this time decided to dilute the impact by seeking to tether Anna Hazare by denying him permission to protest at Jantar Mantar from August 16. The Government suddenly woke up to the ‘fact’ that the place was too small for large-scale protests.
This time the Government has to also contend with another problem — that of the Opposition raising questions over its Lok Pal Bill draft. Leaders from the Left and the NDA (Bihar Chief Minister Nitish Kumar stands out) have rubbished the draft and demanded the inclusion of the Prime Minister under the Bill. Of course, the Bill has still a long way to go before it becomes law, and it is possible that some of the concerns raised by Anna Hazare’s team could be incorporated in the final version. But for now, the Government will have a lot of answering to do.
The challenge to authority is in itself a daring act. In Singham, the protagonist invites trouble by doing so. He could have simply allowed the system to remain in the rot it was, and steered clear of change, something that several of his colleagues in the police had done and survived well enough. To return to the analogy, Anna Hazare and all those who are feeling stifled by prospering corruption in high places too could have avoided the turmoil by silently operating their non-Government organisations and staying away from directly confronting the political system. But they chose the harder option. The honest police officer in the film had to not only battle the wily neta but also his own colleagues who had either resigned to the corrupt system or become an active party to it. Here is another lesson: Singham could not perhaps have succeeded so spectacularly without the support of his colleagues who rallied behind him. And they did that because they were fired by the zeal of that one colleague. The change of the heart, the firing of the imagination and the belief that things can be improved if one is willing to pay the price, is at the core of Anna Hazare’s campaign.
It is not the case that each and every individual that is backing Anna Hazare is squeaky clean, nor is there an argument that even his close associates are entirely above board. These are issues that Anna Hazare’s critics have often raised. The point is that, despite all of this, they have come out in open support, signalling that they are amenable to personal change — if need be — for the larger cause. Singham’s colleagues too lost no time in personal makeovers once they were convinced that the time had come to shed their spinelessness. They knew they could erase their sordid track record only by backing the protagonist to the hilt.
Singham has some funny moments, the dramatic reliefs that Shakespeare so adroitly inserted in his plays. Some of those scenes involved the chief villain and his personal aide. They are occasions for hearty laughs. Sadly, there is nothing funny in the antics of some of our politicians who have made it a full-time commitment to ridicule the civil society movement and invest it with intentions that it never harboured. For instance, Anna Hazare and group were accused of trying to supersede Parliamentary democracy by insisting on their version of the Bill. Yet the fact always was — and the activists always said it — that their Jan Lok Pal Bill could pass through only with the approval of the people’s representatives in Parliament. That it was entirely up to the political system to accept their version or dump it. All that Anna Hazare and his team said was that they retained the right to protest peacefully and democratically if they were unhappy with the Government’s version.
In Singham, an entire village rose in protest when the corrupt and ‘killer’ politician along with his goons tried to browbeat the honest officer at a police station. It is that mass movement across the country that Anna Hazare often talks of. He wants each one of us to be a non-violent Singham. Will that happen?
Ever wondered why an ordinary film such as Singham has turned out to be a smash hit? There cannot be any cinematic value to explain that, because the Ajay Devgn starrer does not even pretend to have one. The fight sequences are Rajnithanthesque, the songs are mediocre and the acting is barely passable. If that is not enough, the film drags in parts. Yet, it occupies the pride of place as among the top first-week earners in Hindi film history. The question, then, is: What went right?
It’s the theme, stupid. The good cop versus the corrupt politician. That clicked. That united the film-goers across the country into one solid mass of Singham supporters. Religion did not matter, caste did not matter, region did not matter. Nothing mattered, except the fact that the corrupt politician should be taught a lesson, was taught a lesson. Those who have watched the film will know what the lesson was. No law of the land will endorse that punishment. The viewers who saw it being rendered on the screen knew that, and yet they cheered and whistled every time the politician and his henchmen were put to the test. The millions of people who flocked — and continue to flock — the halls to watch it all happen were, in fact, living out their dream of putting the corrupt politician in place. The success of Singham demonstrates the people’s ire towards our errant politicians, and reinforces the growing belief that, given a chance, they are in no mood to allow matters to deteriorate any further.
This is just the sort of sentiment that social activist Anna Hazare has capitalised on across the country, much like the film’s director Rohit Shetty did. Singham’s box office performance and Anna Hazare’s success have, therefore, much in common. Rest assured that were there to be a nationwide referendum on the Lok Pal Bill, the people would overwhelmingly throw out the Government version and opt for the one proposed by Anna Hazare’s group, even if one takes into account some minor changes here and there. The response would have been as dramatic as the film has received. The veteran Gandhian is the real-life Singham, though his methods unlike those of Ajay Devgn — who plays the duty-driven police officer — have not involved pounding the skull of the crook with the swiftness of a meteorite hitting the earth, and flooring the guy in the process yet he has done enough to more than rattle the Union Government, which is now truly scared of his protest fasts.
Having seen on two previous occasions the kind of massive support he garnered from across the country, not to mention on the Internet, the UPA Government this time decided to dilute the impact by seeking to tether Anna Hazare by denying him permission to protest at Jantar Mantar from August 16. The Government suddenly woke up to the ‘fact’ that the place was too small for large-scale protests.
This time the Government has to also contend with another problem — that of the Opposition raising questions over its Lok Pal Bill draft. Leaders from the Left and the NDA (Bihar Chief Minister Nitish Kumar stands out) have rubbished the draft and demanded the inclusion of the Prime Minister under the Bill. Of course, the Bill has still a long way to go before it becomes law, and it is possible that some of the concerns raised by Anna Hazare’s team could be incorporated in the final version. But for now, the Government will have a lot of answering to do.
The challenge to authority is in itself a daring act. In Singham, the protagonist invites trouble by doing so. He could have simply allowed the system to remain in the rot it was, and steered clear of change, something that several of his colleagues in the police had done and survived well enough. To return to the analogy, Anna Hazare and all those who are feeling stifled by prospering corruption in high places too could have avoided the turmoil by silently operating their non-Government organisations and staying away from directly confronting the political system. But they chose the harder option. The honest police officer in the film had to not only battle the wily neta but also his own colleagues who had either resigned to the corrupt system or become an active party to it. Here is another lesson: Singham could not perhaps have succeeded so spectacularly without the support of his colleagues who rallied behind him. And they did that because they were fired by the zeal of that one colleague. The change of the heart, the firing of the imagination and the belief that things can be improved if one is willing to pay the price, is at the core of Anna Hazare’s campaign.
It is not the case that each and every individual that is backing Anna Hazare is squeaky clean, nor is there an argument that even his close associates are entirely above board. These are issues that Anna Hazare’s critics have often raised. The point is that, despite all of this, they have come out in open support, signalling that they are amenable to personal change — if need be — for the larger cause. Singham’s colleagues too lost no time in personal makeovers once they were convinced that the time had come to shed their spinelessness. They knew they could erase their sordid track record only by backing the protagonist to the hilt.
Singham has some funny moments, the dramatic reliefs that Shakespeare so adroitly inserted in his plays. Some of those scenes involved the chief villain and his personal aide. They are occasions for hearty laughs. Sadly, there is nothing funny in the antics of some of our politicians who have made it a full-time commitment to ridicule the civil society movement and invest it with intentions that it never harboured. For instance, Anna Hazare and group were accused of trying to supersede Parliamentary democracy by insisting on their version of the Bill. Yet the fact always was — and the activists always said it — that their Jan Lok Pal Bill could pass through only with the approval of the people’s representatives in Parliament. That it was entirely up to the political system to accept their version or dump it. All that Anna Hazare and his team said was that they retained the right to protest peacefully and democratically if they were unhappy with the Government’s version.
In Singham, an entire village rose in protest when the corrupt and ‘killer’ politician along with his goons tried to browbeat the honest officer at a police station. It is that mass movement across the country that Anna Hazare often talks of. He wants each one of us to be a non-violent Singham. Will that happen?
Sunday, July 31, 2011
Understanding 2G scam
RAJESH SINGH
>2G Spectrum Scam
Author: Subramanian Swamy
Publisher: Har-Anand
Price: Rs 595
Of the many politicians who have taken up the task to bring the perpetrators of the 2G scam to justice, Subramanian Swamy stands out for his doggedness and an almost missionary zeal. He did not stop at merely stirring the murky pot and pursuing the matter in the courts; Swamy has now written an exhaustive account of the scam. While the massive irregularities the Telecom Ministry indulged in during A Raja’s tenure as Union Telecom Ministry is now all in the public domain, and whatever is not known will be out in the course of the investigations, the book is relevant for two reasons: One, it is a valuable reference material for academics, commentators and students of contemporary subjects; and, two, it raises larger issues of governance in an increasingly industrialised nation, where narrow materialistic considerations threaten to outweigh the larger national good.
The author takes us into the frightening reality of how corrupt the country is perceived by international agencies and the general causes of the malaise. From fudged accounts of corporate entities to the generation and siphoning away of black money to the role of illicit funds in promoting terror activities, he gives us a quick take on the vast and seemingly unmanageable problem. Towards the end, Swamy suggests a national policy to counter it. This would involve the integration of “spiritual values and organisational leadership”. He lays emphasis on the incorporation of the “evolved youth” in the plan since that alone could create a “modern mindset”. But for that to happen, as he rightly points out, there will have to be a greater accountability in governance — something that the political class talks of a lot but does precious little to execute. What remains unsaid, therefore, is that such a national policy will not be forthcoming unless the people, especially the youth, compel the Government to respond.
The author has relied on a heap of material that has emerged through the investigations, including the various correspondences among Ministers and Government officials on the subject. Again, while they are all known, they help in maintaining the focus and keep the issue in perspective, highlighting the callousness of those in power in allowing the scam to take shape. The Comptroller and Auditor General’s observations, too, have been used extensively, and rightly so, because it is the CAG findings that officially set the ball rolling for a probe, involving the Central Vigilance Commission and the Central Bureau of Investigation. The latter had been rather reluctant in fully involving itself till the Supreme Court cracked the whip.
The large canvas of the scam included a number of personalities and institutions, and the author has done well to approach the issue in an uncluttered fashion. He has neatly categorised the important developments, such as those involving CAG, the Public Accounts Committee, the Radia tapes and the Telecom Regulatory Authority of India. He has also provided a chronology of the event dating from September 24, 2007, to January 25, 2008 — the time when the Telecom Ministry took the stand that no application under the Unified Access Services (UAS) would be accepted after October 10, 2007, to the questionable issuance of those licences. Swamy puts on record that then TRAI chief Nripendra Misra had said that the Ministry had never sought the authority’s views on grant of new licences. This is important since the Government has been saying that it had complied with TRAI guidelines. In fact, TRAI also took the position that its opinion should be sought even if the Telecom Ministry issued fresh licences under the existing policy. Misra had also warned the Government against what is now famously quoted as “cherry picking” of the recommendations the Authority had made on the matter of issuing licences.
A great deal of what the book contains will sound familiar to the regular readers of The Pioneer. The daily had been the first to break the 2G scam through a series of articles beginning 2008-end. For more than 18 months, The Pioneer continued to publish one informed expose after another, detailing the murky business of the 2G deal. The end result was that the authorities, compelled by the exposes and driven by the Supreme Court, had to take finally note and act.
There are many heroes in this tale. While Swamy is certainly one of them, he has been quick to acknowledge the others, particularly the whistle blower, Ashirvatham Achari, without whose cooperation the scam would have remained buried in the sands of time. The Pioneer correspondent J Gopikrishnan doggedly pursued the story, flinging aside temptations that were laid his way by those who wanted the matter forgotten. He is the other hero the author names.
While the probe is now on track and there is hope that the guilty will be eventually punished, the fact remains that a scam of this magnitude can happen again. The book provides some solutions to prevent that, but it is for the political class to wake up and recognise that. Meanwhile, we need more such whistle-blowers, news correspondents and activists.
>2G Spectrum Scam
Author: Subramanian Swamy
Publisher: Har-Anand
Price: Rs 595
Of the many politicians who have taken up the task to bring the perpetrators of the 2G scam to justice, Subramanian Swamy stands out for his doggedness and an almost missionary zeal. He did not stop at merely stirring the murky pot and pursuing the matter in the courts; Swamy has now written an exhaustive account of the scam. While the massive irregularities the Telecom Ministry indulged in during A Raja’s tenure as Union Telecom Ministry is now all in the public domain, and whatever is not known will be out in the course of the investigations, the book is relevant for two reasons: One, it is a valuable reference material for academics, commentators and students of contemporary subjects; and, two, it raises larger issues of governance in an increasingly industrialised nation, where narrow materialistic considerations threaten to outweigh the larger national good.
The author takes us into the frightening reality of how corrupt the country is perceived by international agencies and the general causes of the malaise. From fudged accounts of corporate entities to the generation and siphoning away of black money to the role of illicit funds in promoting terror activities, he gives us a quick take on the vast and seemingly unmanageable problem. Towards the end, Swamy suggests a national policy to counter it. This would involve the integration of “spiritual values and organisational leadership”. He lays emphasis on the incorporation of the “evolved youth” in the plan since that alone could create a “modern mindset”. But for that to happen, as he rightly points out, there will have to be a greater accountability in governance — something that the political class talks of a lot but does precious little to execute. What remains unsaid, therefore, is that such a national policy will not be forthcoming unless the people, especially the youth, compel the Government to respond.
The author has relied on a heap of material that has emerged through the investigations, including the various correspondences among Ministers and Government officials on the subject. Again, while they are all known, they help in maintaining the focus and keep the issue in perspective, highlighting the callousness of those in power in allowing the scam to take shape. The Comptroller and Auditor General’s observations, too, have been used extensively, and rightly so, because it is the CAG findings that officially set the ball rolling for a probe, involving the Central Vigilance Commission and the Central Bureau of Investigation. The latter had been rather reluctant in fully involving itself till the Supreme Court cracked the whip.
The large canvas of the scam included a number of personalities and institutions, and the author has done well to approach the issue in an uncluttered fashion. He has neatly categorised the important developments, such as those involving CAG, the Public Accounts Committee, the Radia tapes and the Telecom Regulatory Authority of India. He has also provided a chronology of the event dating from September 24, 2007, to January 25, 2008 — the time when the Telecom Ministry took the stand that no application under the Unified Access Services (UAS) would be accepted after October 10, 2007, to the questionable issuance of those licences. Swamy puts on record that then TRAI chief Nripendra Misra had said that the Ministry had never sought the authority’s views on grant of new licences. This is important since the Government has been saying that it had complied with TRAI guidelines. In fact, TRAI also took the position that its opinion should be sought even if the Telecom Ministry issued fresh licences under the existing policy. Misra had also warned the Government against what is now famously quoted as “cherry picking” of the recommendations the Authority had made on the matter of issuing licences.
A great deal of what the book contains will sound familiar to the regular readers of The Pioneer. The daily had been the first to break the 2G scam through a series of articles beginning 2008-end. For more than 18 months, The Pioneer continued to publish one informed expose after another, detailing the murky business of the 2G deal. The end result was that the authorities, compelled by the exposes and driven by the Supreme Court, had to take finally note and act.
There are many heroes in this tale. While Swamy is certainly one of them, he has been quick to acknowledge the others, particularly the whistle blower, Ashirvatham Achari, without whose cooperation the scam would have remained buried in the sands of time. The Pioneer correspondent J Gopikrishnan doggedly pursued the story, flinging aside temptations that were laid his way by those who wanted the matter forgotten. He is the other hero the author names.
While the probe is now on track and there is hope that the guilty will be eventually punished, the fact remains that a scam of this magnitude can happen again. The book provides some solutions to prevent that, but it is for the political class to wake up and recognise that. Meanwhile, we need more such whistle-blowers, news correspondents and activists.
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