Was Bhaskar Ghose ‘wife’, ‘nun’ or ‘prostitute’ in the IAS - or none? A K Bhattacharya reviews an unusual civil service memoir.
In his introduction, Bhaskar Ghose refers to a study that divides Indian Administrative Service, or IAS, officers into three categories — wives, nuns and prostitutes. Wives are those officers who remain committed to a specific ideology or a political party and, therefore, are always close to a government run by that party. Nuns are indifferent to whatever ideology or whichever political party is in power. And then there are prostitutes, who switch their loyalties depending on who is in power.
Ghose, an IAS officer of the 1960 batch, does not offer any evidence to show whether he was wife, nun or prostitute. For the record, he belonged to the West Bengal cadre with a long career of 36 years, in which he worked in districts in that state during both Congress and Left Front rule. At the Centre, he rose to be a secretary in the ministry of information and broadcasting before serving useful stints as a secretary in the department of culture and as head of Doordarshan. His batchmates were as varied as Yashwant Sinha, who joined politics, quitting the service mid-way, and Nagaraj Vittal, a no-nonsense bureaucrat who distinguished himself, first, as an effective telecommunications secretary in the early days of reforms and, later, as the chief vigilance commissioner.
So what kind of an officer was Ghose? He was certainly not a prostitute. Was he a nun? No, that is not the impression you will get from this book. There are instances where Ghose makes no secret of his like or dislike of a certain style of administration. He was not one of those IAS officers who would execute the wishes of the political bosses without raising a point or two. Was he, then, a wife? There are, of course, sections in the 300-plus pages of this autobiographical account of his days as an IAS officer where he comes close to being branded a “wife” to the Congress regime at the Centre. However, that is a fleeting impression and may well be misleading.
The more lasting image he creates for himself is of an officer who failed to belong to any one of the three categories. That is where Ghose’s story, written most unlike a bureaucrat and more like a seasoned litterateur, will make you wonder whether he was like the Mahabharata’s Arjuna, who in spite of his many heroic qualities suffered from the major handicap of failing to belong anywhere. By his own account and judging by a few of the decisions he took, Ghose was a competent officer, but right through his story you will wonder whether he did really belong to the IAS club.
Thus, Ghose portrays himself as an IAS officer who, even as joint secretary in the defence ministry, preferred spending his evenings in the theatre rather than ensuring that his minister got the right file on what should be his draft replies to the questions he would face in Parliament the following morning. An admonition from the secretary (none other than the formidable P K Kaul) would of course make Ghose a little penitent, but the signs of where his heart lay were quite unmistakable. Or, for that matter, his refusal to take up an assignment at the Census office, a job an IAS officer would normally long for, will make you wonder whether Ghose made the right choice. (Eventually he had to take up that job after he took on a powerful political leader in West Bengal which left him with no option.) Similar questions arise when you learn how he declined a job with the 1982 Asian Games organising committee. The reason was simple. He did not see himself in that kind of job (“an inferno”), even though his seniors told him unequivocally that he was turning down an assignment that could smooth his career progression. He preferred strolling in Lodhi Garden and bumping into Ved Marwah, an Indian Police Service officer with perhaps a similar disposition, who, also like Ghose, was waiting for a posting by the government.
Ghose’s account of how senior IAS officers bungled the handling of the infamous police firing on a crowd of protesters on New Delhi’s Parliament Street in the late 1960s (better known as the anti-cow slaughter agitation) makes you wonder about the gaps in the country’s administrative system. You get the same impression when Ghose himself drops legitimate charges against some Air Force pilots for having caused avoidable deaths through some incredibly reckless flying, ostensibly because the Chief of Air Staff met him and sought lenient treatment for his errant officers.
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Of course, his approach was not always casual. In contrast was the manner in which he gave his heart and soul to his stints in the department of culture or the ministry of information and broadcasting. Ghose is a great storyteller. He is at his best when he narrates how he fought — and won — a valiant diplomatic battle with the French and the Japanese, successfully countering their calumnious campaign and establishing that the Archaeological Survey of India had in fact done a fine job with the restoration of the ancient Hindu temples at Angkor Wat in Cambodia. Similar commitment and involvement were evident in his decision to allow a weekly closure of major archaeological monuments like the Taj so that maintenance work could be done without visitors interrupting. He acted unlike an IAS officer when he made headway in enhancing the pay package for the teaching faculty at the National School of Drama (perhaps this was also because Ghose is an accomplished theatreperson and has acted in or directed over 40 plays).
Yet, Ghose is an ardent supporter of the idea of an “Indian administrative service”. He explains quite convincingly why and how the IAS networking works in the government system — how the shared rituals among a disparate group of young IAS recruits, who live and learn together for almost a year at the IAS Academy at Mussoorie, create a strong bond that non-IAS officers find difficult to break. His unabashed support for the IAS goes to the extent of blaming financial advisors in various ministries for all the delays in expenditure-related decision-making. He even suggests that the only substantive reform in government took place in the early 1990s because the finance minister at that time, Manmohan Singh, was keen on reforms. He, therefore, argues that until the finance ministry or its representatives in different ministries who work as financial advisors, want reforms or quick decisions, the government will continue to function in its current bumbling ways.
This may well be true, but his arguments raise the same questions — whether he belonged to the IAS club or not and whether he was the modern-day Arjuna, or a Hamlet. (Ghose may prefer the latter epithet!) There are no clear answers, but never mind, the book is a great read and there are many delectable stories, unlike similar attempts by many of his contemporaries.
THE SERVICE OF THE STATE
The IAS Reconsidered
Author: Bhaskar Ghose
Publisher: Penguin
Pages: 320
Price: Rs 499
