It is good to know that the leadership of the United Progressive Alliance thinks so highly of the honour of sitting in the Upper House of Parliament that it imagines it as broadly equivalent to a Bharat Ratna. Or at least, that is what observers might conclude, given that it appears the government has chosen to answer a long-standing demand from India’s more vocal cricket fans that Sachin Tendulkar be given the country’s highest civilian honour by nominating him to the Rajya Sabha. Certainly, there don’t seem to be many other reasons for the nomination. Unless, that is, the government has decided to aid the transition in India’s cricket team by suggesting subtly to Mr Tendulkar that he retire from international cricket in order to serve his country better.
The Rajya Sabha is the House of Elders — earning this sobriquet through having a qualificatory age of 35, which is positively ancient in this young country — and it is supposed to be the location of exceptionally reasoned, informed debate. Mr Tendulkar is certainly highly intelligent; he has impressed with his ability to out-think his on-field opponents. Yet, unlike some of his contemporaries — Rahul Dravid, say, or Anil Kumble — he has not, so far in his career, spoken about matters external to team dynamics or individual matches. It is not easy to see, therefore, how the government intends him to contribute. It is worth remembering exactly why the nominated category of Rajya Sabha MPs exists: to raise the level of debate. It does not exist as a reward, nor as a method of representation. It is a way to introduce apolitical voices to speak on specialised subjects, but has been perverted away from this function. This is not to say that actors and cricketers have necessarily little to contribute to the national debate. It is to suggest that the nominated category be used to bring in those from such worlds of “literature, science, art and social service”, as the Constitution suggests, who have chosen already to discuss a wide range of issues.
None of this should reflect on Mr Tendulkar’s choice to accept the nomination. When called to such service, it is hard to refuse. Nor is he, in the least, the most egregious example of the misuse of the nominating facility — remember, this is the government that nominated Congress politician Mani Shankar Aiyar to the Rajya Sabha for his “contribution to literature”. It is difficult to work out, though, what the government was thinking in this case. Perhaps they hoped that Mr Tendulkar’s grace and civility would serve as an example to his fellow-MPs? Or that it would cause anti-corruption activists like Arvind Kejriwal who denounce Parliament as a den of thieves to think twice about such statements in future, for fear of sustained invective from Mr Tendulkar’s fans? Whatever the reason, the problem with nominated MPs has been highlighted again. Regardless of the genius of the individual in question, such MPs frequently contribute little to the national debate in the House. After all, the greatest genius of all, Isaac Newton, was once nominated to the British Parliament. Much was expected from him; but, according to legend, he spoke but once during a session — to request that the House’s windows be shut, as it was getting a bit chilly.
