Suppose the Maoists were to capture the government in New Delhi, and launch a widespread investigation into the doings of the country’s power elite — investigation of the kind that has been launched into the affairs of the Indian Premier League (IPL). What would they find? It is a fair bet that what they unearth would keep TV channels breathlessly excited and the front pages of newspapers booked for several weeks at a stretch. IPL is not an exception, an aberration in an otherwise well-ordered and transparent system that plays by clear rules; rather, it is a metaphor of the times.
Consider the different directions in which the IPL saga now stretches: hidden franchise owners, secret transactions overseas, blatant conflicts of interest, tax evasion, politicians and their families mixed up with the mess, unilateral cancellation and renegotiation of contracts, fixing of auction bids, suspicions of match-fixing and illegal betting, and much more. But why would anyone think that all this is unique to IPL, except as a form of escapism?
Look at how the telecom minister handed out licences and spectrum; the arbitrariness of Lalit Modi has a precedent, the sums involved are much larger, and the chutzpah is comparable. Look too at the links of politicians and the mining mafia, not just in Bellary but also in Madhu Koda’s Jharkhand. What about defence contracts, and the commissions paid on them? How many scandals are waiting to be discovered about the way in which the Commonwealth Games are being organised? Can it really be true that Rahul Bajaj is the richest member of the Rajya Sabha because he declares wealth of just Rs 308 crore? Where did the money for Mayawati’s rupee-garland come from? Or for Ram Vilas Paswan’s burnt Audi? Was any commission paid on the orders for new Air India planes that have effectively bankrupted the airline? And, for that matter, why did the government sit tight for several months on its investigations that suggested that all was not right with IPL and Lalit Modi?
This is not to bemoan the present and the future of India, but to point to the urgent need for correctives, because the problem goes beyond IPL. If one were serious about looking for correctives, it would not be difficult because the problem patterns are easily recognisable. First, politicians get mixed up with businessmen (see how quickly a neophyte like Shashi Tharoor learnt the game), and with decisions on who gets or does not get something that is either naturally or artificially scarce (a licence, fresh spectrum, a mining right). Second, the business exists in some opaque periphery of the national consciousness — like the lottery businesses run by state governments; or real estate deals — on which it is difficult to throw light. Third, the real money is made or paid overseas — and usually routed back into the country through participatory notes and other subterfuges like cell accounts run by foreign institutional investors.
This is not to suggest a return to V P Singh’s “raid raj” of 1985-86. Far better to look for systemic solutions. Like independent investigation arms that are free of political control, so that coalition partners in a government do not have immunity from the law; a sample check of the wealth statements filed by politicians, in the manner that the income tax people do sample checks on tax returns; proper audit and disclosure of political party accounts and balance sheets; fast-track courts for elected representatives who have criminal cases against them, so that legislatures are quickly freed of those who are, in fact, guilty. These would be good starting points.
