 "<b>Lunch with BS:</b> P Chidambaram")
I suggested the next best venue, much nearer and much cooler, the 1911 at the Imperial in central Delhi, also steeped in history. He recalled that he used to go there a lot with his political mentor G K Moopanar, back when. Moopanar would always order Crepes Suzette, enjoying the ceremony when they were flambed at the table. That was when the Imperial was still a dark, dank place and you tiptoed through the corridors for fear of unsettling the bats. No longer, of course, writes Aditi Phadnis.
Getting to the Imperial from his residence was another challenge. “Okay, where's your scooter? Let's go,” he said. “We can't go on my scooter!” I exclaimed aghast. “If you're taking me to lunch, we have to go in your vehicle. If your vehicle is a scooter, we have to go on that,” he pointed out. I protested: “You’re India's finance minister. You can't be gadding around Delhi on the pillion of a scooter. “It isn't safe. Besides, they don't let scooters into hotel foyers and I'll have to park at the back near the public loos...,” I gabbled to disabuse him of the idea.
The problem, I think, was Chidambaram was not sure if this engagement qualified as official. So should he take his official car? Besides, it was a Saturday afternoon, technically an off-day for the driver.
Reluctantly, he summoned the driver and we set off. What I really wanted was to get him to turn on the red light and the klaxon and report that travel experience, but I held my peace. He cleared his desk, metaphorically, of a whole lot of files via the mobile phone on the way. “How come you're working on a Saturday?” I asked, knowing he took his work, but also his weekend rest, very seriously. “I lost a day's work in Delhi because I took the PM to my constituency. So I'll have to work on Sunday as well: the first Sunday after a long time,” he replied grimly.
In the restaurant, he warned that he eats very little for lunch but ordered a Nasi Goreng, topped with a fried egg and chicken satay, and bottled water. I added an extra order of French fries that I know he loves.
The bottled water gave me the entry into the conversation. If he were given the option of being reborn as a citizen of a different country, which one would he choose? Because in India, I added, the choice was between a dynastic regency and a group of guys running around with machetes. If you flagged down a bus that seemed to be less crowded, you stood in danger of being gang-raped. And if you sent your child to a school that offered midday meals, there was a chance you wouldn't see your baby again....
“I would like to be a Japanese: you can drink water straight from the tap, you are considered pacifist by the rest of the world, you have the option of living a serene existence or a madly competitive lifestyle,” I said, omitting the two other things that are so wonderful about Japan: the Haiku and the Sushi.
“And you can live up to 160,” he added. “Yes, that too and what’s more, the state will take care of you,” I replied.
I thought I was luring Chidambaram into a trap. He would indicate which country he liked better than India and I would pounce on him. But there was no trapping Chidambaram. “You go to the website of any country, and you will see there is a revolt against corruption and bad governance. I was looking at this yesterday,” he replied.
“But you've said how much you admire China. There are no such revolts there,” I argued. “I have said I envy China,” he corrected me. “That is because of their implementation skills. We have a particular habit of berating ourselves...self-flagellation, if you like,” he said.
“Look at Belgium,” he went on. “They are supposed to be a mature western democracy. And yet, they haven't had a government in place for months now. What are they fighting over? Whether the language they speak should be Dutch or Flemish. We are such a large country with so many different groups, religions, languages, and yet we manage to function quite well. That's why I say: we have this habit of self-flagellation”
“Belgium is hardly comparable to India and, besides, in India we have a government without having one,” I replied. He countered, “We have serious problems and we must learn to resolve them. But that doesn't mean it is the worst place either. “Besides, what if I were not born as a human being at all in India. What if I were to be born as [his eyes looked around and focused on a plate on the next table that had something that looked like a Chateaubriand steak] a cow?”
This was going nowhere. “If we can revive investment and the time lag it takes to get policy off the ground, India too can develop faster...,” he went on. “Why do all finance ministers in India end up quarrelling with their RBI Governors?” I interrupted.
“Nobody is quarrelling with RBI Governors. The fact is, RBI consults us on most issues and we advise it. It is autonomous, but only on monetary policy. The RBI Act allows the government even to give written directions to the central bank on issues other than monetary policy. It is another matter that there has been no need to do so,” he said. “RBI is obliged to consult government on currency issues. It must consult the government on bank supervision: after all, the government is the majority owner of public sector banks….”
Chidambaram explained that there was a view that the RBI had been behind the curve when inflation started rising and when it began to tighten monetary policy, it did too much. “This is not my opinion,” he added quickly, but there are people who believe this. “Surjeet Bhalla, who takes a view often contrary to the RBI’s, sometimes has very valid arguments - not always, but sometimes”.
It wasn’t just the RBI that wasn’t always right, Chidambaram said, it was also the courts. There were some things that courts could decide, but some issues needed to be left to the judgment of Parliament. For instance, what should be the tenure of a Director of the Central Bureau of Investigation? “In the Group of Ministers meeting the CBI Director said at least two years. In court, the CBI said at least three years. I have no problem with that: but can a court resolve the issue? Is it a function of the court? Or should Parliament decide this? I’m not saying a judge is incapable of deciding this. Some judge who sits in Parliament as MP can also decide this. But it is MPs who have to resolve this.”
I became impatient. “Let’s come to the management of the economy. You expect people to invest but you haven’t resolved any of the structural problems in the nine years your government has been in power. The National Highways Authority of India is in battle with the Planning Commission. It has achieved 10 per cent of its target. You’ve created 78,000 Mw of capacity in the power sector in the last two years but still haven’t reached an agreement on coal sourcing…” I started.
“That’s not quite correct. Coal will be made available at 65, 70 and 75 per cent of this 78,000 Mw capacity over the next three years. Coal India will import coal if necessary,” he interrupted me sharply. But India is supposed to have coal reserves for 200 years, I pointed out. What prevented the government from making Coal India more efficient, privatising it, if necessary?
“We don’t have a majority in Parliament,” he replied succinctly, referring to amending the Coal Nationalisation Act. “Coal production has gone into a spin because of all the court cases. Even legitimate legal leases are an issue.”
Alluding to the reports of the Comptroller and Auditor General (CAG) that caused serious tension with the government, he continued, “A function of being in government is that we must monitor the difference between policy and implementation. The government did not defend adequately its position on the 2G spectrum issue and coal. We just got overwhelmed and overawed by the reports of losses.”
There was a short silence, as he ruminated on the CAG reports. “You’re trying to do lot: but it is as if you’re running to stay in the same place,” I said, trying to give the government the benefit of the doubt.
“Take the automobile industry,” he went on. “We opened it up. When did the first investment start coming? Our automobile policy came into place when -- but over a period of time, India has become a hub of automobile production.”
Then came the clincher: “Even in investing countries, look at the conditions. How many countries have a surplus to invest?”
“But you missed the bus even when we had a surplus,” I argued
Incredibly, unbelievably, Chidambaram agreed. “We have delayed taking decisions. We’ve paid a price for it,” he admitted.
We turned to politics. What will the UPA government’s economic policies be if it comes to power? “We’re so confident about coming to power that we haven’t given thought to it,” he said airily.
So it will be more dual power centre, more delayed decision-making, more socialist-type doles, more freebies, giveaways, all on the tax-payer’s dime…Chidambaram was suddenly stirred into action. “Not one media house has written,” he began, “that even with this so-called dual power centre, the UPA achieved 7.9 per cent growth in nine years whereas the average growth during the NDA years was 5.7 per cent.”
Chidambaram put this down to the media’s collective “upper caste, upper class bias”. He paid no heed to my “oh, gimme a break” interjection and went on, “Our policies will combine a passion for growth with compassion for the poor.”
It was my turn to snort. “Growth? You spent so much political capital on the civil nuclear deal. But people are afraid to invest in the sector because of your leaky liability laws. And look at FDI in retail: so much emotion, so much political loss, and for what? Not one paisa has come in…”
“If you raise FDI caps on Monday, you can’t expect FDI to come on Tuesday,” he retorted. “All you people ever do is sing dirges,” he said. “Last year also you said investment will fall. Last year, investment was $91.8 billion despite all the dirges. Is this a work of investors who think India is a basket case? This year also I will finance Current Account Deficit fully and safely,” he said.
I had to agree with him when he said nobody believed him when he said he would meet his fiscal deficit target. He had indeed met and bettered it. But I pointed that most of the fiscal year is over and the current account deficit…
“That’s what you said last year as well,” he interrupted, “that the year was almost over, how would I meet fiscal deficit. But I did.” The source of the confidence this fiscal? “Agriculture, we’re going to do really well,” he said. “That’s because you’ve had a good monsoon,” I replied. “No, we did a whole lot of things you people never write about: incentives for eastern India’s Green Revolution, electricity for pump sets, agricultural credit…”
But what about other falling indices? PMI, the manufacturing crisis…“PMI is based on the perception of people. It is not based on real, measurable indices,” he said.
The meal was over. One scoop of mango ice cream later we were back home. “Time for a short snooze,” he said as we said goodbye. Clearly, the finance minister was so confident of managing economic problems, he didn’t want to lose any sleep worrying about them.