Who will guard the guardians? The need for this rhetorical question arises because the custodians of our nation’s integrity are themselves found wanting. The answer, to a substantial extent, is, of course, the Lokpal. Clearing the Augean stables is literally a Herculean task and requires an out-of-the-box solution. Anna Hazare’s cameo effort has focused the nation’s attention on the menace.
Carpers and cavillers have protested that Anna’s way is unconstitutional. I think they protest too much. Desperate situations cry out for desperate remedies. The status quo could not have been permitted to continue. The highest in the land failed to take any serious steps; Parliament has faltered; all political parties have fallen down on the job. It was as if there was a conspiracy of silence and inaction. It took one humble public-spirited citizen to jolt the nation and its leaders out of their torpor. Let us not belittle the salience and substance of millions spontaneously standing by the satyagraha and supporting the crusade.
Corruption means many things to many people. In India, we have our own parlance — hafta, for instance, as a diminutive substitute for kickbacks, slush funds, financial skulduggery, fortunes stashed away in Swiss banks. Even prior to and at the inception of our Republic, there was the jeep scandal, besides serious allegations against several state chief ministers; irregularities committed by the Life Insurance Corporation (LIC) in 1957 were only the proverbial tip of the iceberg. Then we have had the Bofors scam, the securities scandal, the sugar and vanaspati import controversy, the fodder scam, and myriad other sinister infractions.
The year 1969 was a watershed in a way. Since the time Prime Minister Indira Gandhi commenced a desperate battle for political supremacy, personal corruption by politicians took new dimensions. Soon a new version of political manoeuvring came into being. John Elliott put it succinctly: “Before it was canalised, centralised and coordinated. Now it’s de-controlled, liberalised; three times as big and out in the open.” The ever-deteriorating moral standards in an environment of splintered politics have taken the incidence of corruption to intolerable levels.
We live enwrapped in a state of ethics deficit and a governance deficit, culminating in a trust deficit vis-a-vis the government. Amidst gloom and despair at the ubiquitous graft, the two mothers of scams — CWG and 2G spectrum — epitomised the government’s inaction and ineptitude, bordering on collusion and connivance. Not only did these mega scandals typify daylight robbery but showed the country in a very poor light.
Over the years, there has been talk of Lokayuktas, Vigilance Commission, anti-corruption laws and other similar overtures. These are not intended to do anything more than pay ritualistic obeisance to cleansing public life. Clearly enunciating the imperative of “a culture of zero tolerance of corruption” and making some eminently pertinent recommendations, the Second Administrative Reforms Commission set up by UPA-I provided a viable framework for the government to act fast towards curbing corruption. Four years have gone by; sadly, no tangible action is in sight.
While its report on ethics in governance included recommendations necessitating changes in the legal framework, many of them, it observed, could be immediately implemented through executive directions — for example, the use of discretion being eliminated or at least well regulated ‘within one year’; monitoring the observance of a code of conduct/ethics for ministers by prime minister/chief ministers; partial state funding of elections; a quick and meaningful monitoring of public complaints; forensic audit of some government departments; and rationalising and simplifying the procedures related to Article 311 of the Constitution, which is tantamount to “a heap of roadblocks in reducing corruption”.
The Commission delineated provisions involving enforcement of law and deterrent punishment which would require changes in legislation, for laws to be “succinct” and “simple”, for example, rules and laws for benami properties of corrupt public servants being forfeited, for protecting whistleblowers against retribution, disqualifying an MP/MLA under Article 102(e)/198(e), legislators having to seek a fresh electoral mandate if they realign midstream outside the agreed coalition. It desired the Lokpal bill to become law “with the least possible delay” and envisaged the Chief Vigilance Commissioner operating “under the overall guidance and superintendence” of the three-member Lokpal, while enjoying “full functional autonomy”.
It is axiomatic that corruption starts at the top and percolates down. It is also axiomatic, therefore, that the cleaning-up operation has to start from the top. Hence the Lokpal. In a situation where no one is accountable, the Lokpal has to make a few people accountable, to make an example of a few big transgressors. The post-Seshan Election Commission holds an example for the Lokpal to develop a dynamic and effective institutional mechanism. Will the creation of a Lokpal end corruption in India? Certainly not. But it will have a salutary effect. It will hopefully lead to other similar initiatives to overcome infirmities plaguing our democratic structure. People’s mindsets will change. We will no longer think of corruption as inevitable.
India needs to take guard afresh and get on with a new innings, in order to win. The hopes of a generation have been belied. The younger ones are disillusioned; and there is a realisation today that enough is enough. It’s time that collectively we engage ourselves in a blitzkrieg on the conscience of the nation, to retrieve its honour and to realise its tryst with destiny.
