Today’s articles come from a number of
sources: “The Diplomat”, “The Guardian” and the Foreign Policy” website.
They discuss a number of issues including:
the perks of an Indian minister; corruption and the legacy of the out-going
Prime minister, Manmohan Singh.
Enjoy:
Indian
Politics: Get Rid of the Vampires
India’s
politicians enjoy some astonishing perks for occasionally dubious
contributions.
By Romi Jain
January 13, 2014
We want all corrupt to be jailed and get severe most punishment.
- Arvind Kejriwal, activist-turned Chief Minister of Delhi
- Arvind Kejriwal, activist-turned Chief Minister of Delhi
This
statement echoes both the explicit and unexpressed desire and anguish of the
common man in India. Although corruption extends to political, bureaucratic,
corporate and other aspects of national life, cleansing the polity, the
authoritative wielder of national destiny, is imperative. In fact, the
magnitude of political
corruption and the prevailing VIP culture that surrounds politics
underscore the charm that public office holds for unscrupulous individuals.
Moreover, indulging in corrupt practices is close to being a risk-free
exercise. The loopholes in anti-corruption laws, overburdened judiciaries,
vicious camaraderie among top to bottom officers and their nexuses with
political bosses – all create a fertile ground for corruption. It is thus vital
to rid Indian politics of the lure that tempts and places vampires feeding
themselves at the cost of public exchequer.
Pays, Perks and Profligacy
In 2010, the
members of Parliament (MPs) hiked their own salaries and
allowances in a legislative amendment, unmoved by the contrasting grim
plight of the common man. As a consequence, their monthly salary is Rs. 50,000
($813), while monthly office and constituency allowances are Rs.
40,000 each. Members are also entitled to a daily allowance of Rs. 2,000
for each day of residence at a place where a parliamentary session is being
held – a reward for attendance. But the story doesn’t end here. Their yearly
amenities include 50,000 units of free electricity, 4,000 kiloliters of free
water, three phone lines and 50,000 free local phone calls per line, and one
free first-class air-conditioned or executive class train pass, in addition to
access to medical facilities. MPs also benefit from such amenities as washing
of sofa covers and curtains and an entitlement to furniture worth Rs.60,000 in
respect of durable furniture and Rs.15,000 for non-durable furniture. According
to the Citizen’s
Report on Governance and Development, 2013, authored by National Social
Watch, in terms of absolute amount, the value of Indian MP’s pays and perks is
68 times higher than the nation’s per capita income, and is also higher than
that of their counterparts in Singapore, Japan and Italy.
Members of
state legislative assemblies enjoy more or less similar comforts.
Meanwhile,
as they enjoy their luxurious lifestyles, legislative members are reluctant to
work. Revealing their abominable level of productivity, the National
Social Watch Report states: “In 2010-12, Lok Sabha [House of the People]
worked an average of less than four hours per day during 227 sittings in 852
hours…. The Rajya Sabha [Council of States] worked for 744 hours in 228
sittings. It functioned for three hours per day in each sitting instead of
scheduled five hours, causing loss of about 442 hours in interruptions and
forced adjournments.”
Consider the
travel expenses of political elites. Between 2007 and 2012, Pratibha Patil,
then president of India, a ceremonial post, spent Rs. 2.23 billion ($36.2
million) on overseas travel. No worthwhile national cause was served. Prime
Minister Manmohan Singh is perhaps less well known for his fondness for foreign
travel. Yet since Singh’s assumption of office in 2004, Rs. 6.42
billion have been incurred on his 67 trips abroad, again with dubious
benefits for India. The travel expenses of other political elites such as
central ministers meanwhile surged from Rs. 0.56 billion in 2010-11 to Rs. 6.78
billion in 2011-12.
Media Vigilance and Public Activism
The recently
passed Lokpal
and Lokayuktas Bill, 2013, aimed at creating anti-corruption watchdogs at
the national and state levels, is expected to take on corruption. In fact, more
reforms such as judicial streamlining and an electorate right to recall have
been proposed from time to time. The key thing is that the reforms to check
both corruption and profligacy need to be catalyzed by the trio of media,
public and activists, as evidenced by the political triumph of anti-corruption
movement (which evolved into the Aam Admi Party-AAP) in Delhi. AAP leader and
Delhi Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal’s publicized statement that he is an Aam
Admi or common man and his refusal to use escort vehicles have created
media headlines, prompting political leaders in several other states to
announce more or less similar measures. For example, Uttar Pradesh CM Akhilesh
Yadav has
decided to reduce the number of cars in his convoy. Rajasthan CM Vasundhara
Raje, known for her “upscale lifestyle,” has halved her security details,
decided to stop at red lights as do “common commuters,” and has chosen to
reside in a small government residence rather than a luxurious bungalow. Though
these are piecemeal measures, what is striking is that these governments and
the parties they represent have become apprehensive of public fury. A somewhat
similar example can be seen in China, where one of the purposes of the central
leadership’s anti-graft campaigns is to assuage smoldering public anger over
corruption-bred inequality while stifling the public interest in governance
that can possibly be aroused by a temptation to share in the national treasure.
Of course,
there are non-corrupt and humble leaders in India such as West Bengal CM Mamata
Banerjee and Tripura CM Manik Sarkar (known for “legendary honesty”), but they
constitute a tiny percentage of the nation’s political class. Moreover, they
are too humble to publicize their distinctiveness. Consequently, their clean
record has failed to exert moral pressure on their thick-skinned counterparts.
As such, public pressure, media vigilance, and determined activism appear
essential for almost any political reform.
India needs
to purge its political offices of unreasonable perks and privileges, promote a
work culture, and above all make corruption a lethally risky exercise. Get rid
of the vampires, in other words.
Romi Jain is Vice President of the Indian Journal of Asian Affairs, a bi-annual, peer-reviewed journal.
---------------------------------------------------------
Dial C for
corruption: Delhi's anti-graft hotline deluged with calls on first day
Alarm bells ring for corrupt officials across Indian
capital as thousands of citizens join AAP's anti-corruption crusade
- Nita Bhalla for Thomson
Reuters Foundation, part of the Guardian development network
- theguardian.com, Saturday 11
January 2014 04.00 GMT
Arvind Kejriwal, leader of Delhi's ruling Aam Aadmi
party, wants citizens to participate in sting operations against corrupt
officials. Photograph: Manish Swarup/AP
An
anti-corruption helpline launched in Delhi on Thursday by the new city
government received thousands of calls and more than 30 useful leads on its
first day, the government has said.
The helpline,
which can be reached on 011-27357169, was created as a top priority by the Aam
Aadmi party (AAP). It aims to empower the public to become anti-graft
inspectors by giving them advice on how to expose officials who demand bribes.
"People
should understand that this is not a complaint number but a helpline, and an
official will advise and explain to the public how to conduct a sting
operation," AAP leader and Delhi chief minister Arvind Kejriwal told a
news conference.
"After
carrying out a sting operation, members of the public should contact the same
adviser, following which a trap will be laid to nab the accused."
Kejriwal said
on Thursday 3,904 calls were received by 3pm, and that 38 serious cases of
graft had been reported. The helpline was found to be constantly engaged,
despite repeated calls by Thomson Reuters Foundation.
Kejriwal, 45, a
former tax official and social activist, said the hotline would be open from
8am to 10pm daily and would enable every Delhi citizen to become an
anti-corruption crusader by helping to record evidence – audio or visual –
against bribe takers.
"The
purpose of launching this helpline is to create fear in the mind of every
corrupt individual. Such people should fear they could be under surveillance at
any time," he said, adding the vigilance department would look into
corruption allegations.
The government
will place advertisements in newspapers and on radio stations and put up
hoardings in the city streets with the helpline number.
Tackling
corruption was the AAP's main policy in the runup to the Delhi assembly
elections last month, and a dedicated anti-graft helpline was one of the main
priorities in the party's manifesto.
The party was
formed in late 2012 after a two-year nationwide anti-corruption drive led by
Kejriwal's former mentor, Gandhian activist Anna Hazare.
The fledgling
party stunned many – including the ruling Congress and Bharatiya Janata party
(BJP), the main opposition – in the polls last month, winning 28 of the 70
seats and forming a new city government with outside support from the Congress
Party.
Political
analysts say the party has tapped into growing middle-class anger with Indian
politicians, who are often perceived to be siphoning off public funds instead
of providing public services.
Its success in
Delhi rang alarm bells for the Congress and the BJP in the runup to a national
election due by May, underlining that an increasingly young and urban
electorate is fed up with the established parties.
The AAP
promised in its manifesto to send corrupt city legislators to jail within a
year. Nationally, almost a third of India's lawmakers face criminal
charges, but many are shielded by the slow-moving legal system.
The AAP plans
to convert the growing public anger over corruption into votes in the national
elections.
- © 2014 Guardian News and Media Limited or its
affiliated companies. All rights reserved.
---------------------------------------------------------
How the technocrat economist Prime Minister
Manmohan Singh left India's economy in tatters.
As news flashes go, Manmohan Singh's Jan. 3 announcement that he
intends to "hand over the baton to a new prime minister" was hardly
earth shattering. Given his unpopularity after nearly a decade in office --
Singh's favorability rating hovers at about 5percent -- the
81-year-old already looked as likely to snag a third term as to win India a
medal for skiing at the Sochi Olympics.
Nonetheless, his formal announcement -- at only his
third press conference since he took office in 2004 -- sets the stage for an
epic election showdown, most likely in April and May. Later
this month, the ruling Congress Party is likely to name 43-year-old Rahul
Gandhi, the fifth generation Nehru-Gandhi dynasty scion, as its candidate to
replace Singh as prime minister. Gandhi's main rival, 63-year-old Gujarat Chief
Minister Narendra Modi, has been crisscrossing the nation since the opposition
Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP) anointed him their
candidate in September. Polls show Gandhi trailing the
pro-business Hindu nationalist; in December, the BJP pulverized Congress
in four important state elections. And some pundits also expect a strong
showing by the year-old Aam Aadmi (Common Man) Party led by anticorruption
activist Arvind Kejriwal.
Amid the battle to elect a new prime minister --
who will almost certainly be more charismatic and effective than the incumbent
-- it sometimes seems as though Singh has already faded into retirement. But
his lackluster record will frame the upcoming election.
On Jan. 3, Singh tried to put his best foot
forward. He spoke of his government achieving the country's highest growth
"for any nine-year period," delivering "a New Deal for rural
India" by raising incomes, and pulling 138 million people out of poverty.
He touted new legislation to check corruption, and
older efforts to boost government transparency. For good measure, he warned
that electing Modi -- on whose watch in 2002 Gujarat witnessed anti-Muslim
riots that killed more than 1,000 people -- would prove "disastrous"
for India. (Modi denies wrongdoing, and in December a lower court
up held a Supreme Court-ordered
investigation that cleared him of complicity in the riots.)
Unfortunately for Singh, many people view his legacy in
less charitable terms. The Oxford-educated economist inherited a nation filled
with hope and leaves it filled with doubt and despair. He entered the prime
minister's office as a widely-respected former finance minister, known for
probity and quiet dignity, and will exit it as a byword for weakness and
ineffectual governance.
The International Monetary Fund (IMF) estimates India's
economy grew at 3.8 percent in 2013, about a third of its all-time high of 10.6
percent in 2010. Despite his best efforts, Singh failed to produce a
breakthrough in relations with neighboring Pakistan or consolidate ties with
the United States. And the staggering scale of corruption
under Singh will likely linger in memory longer than his reputation for
personal honesty.
The scandals that stained Singh's once spotless
reputation underscore the futility of expecting a prime minister's personal
integrity to curb graft. In the 2G scam, the
government lost the country as much as $40 billion by selling mobile licenses
at throwaway prices to favored companies. Reports of padded contracts-- $80
toilet rolls and $19,500 treadmills, and a budget bloated many times over the
original estimate -- tainted the 2010
Commonwealth Games in Delhi. Of what use is a leader who keeps his own hand out
of the cookie jar, ask critics, if he can't stop others from emptying it before
his eyes?
Singh's inability to assert himself highlights the
importance of electing a prime minister by popular vote. In hindsight, Singh --
a technocrat with no mass following, whom Italian-born Congress President Sonia
Gandhi propped up to sidestep controversy over her foreign origins -- always
lacked the authority to lead effectively. To make matters worse, the media-shy
Singh refused to seize the bully pulpit his office offered. In the age of 24/7
television news and social media, nobody can hope to run India as a recluse. As
in most major democracies, a degree of accessibility to the public and the
press needs to become part of the prime minister's job description. (Both Modi
and Kejriwal deliver powerful speeches and possess an instinctive understanding
of television.)
For the United States, the end of the Singh era
also offers an opportunity for reflection. Before India's economy turned south sharply
in 2012, conventional wisdom in Washington was to take for granted India's rise
as a peaceful, democratic, counterbalance to China. During his November 2010
visit, President Barack Obama declared, "India
is not just a rising power, it has already risen." Now it appears that
those words may have been spoken prematurely, especially in relation to the
economy.
Indeed, an assessment of India's first economist
prime minister must focus on the economy. As the finance minister who implemented important
reforms in 1991, Singh abolished industrial licensing, slashed import duties
and ended government monopolies in much of the economy. As prime minister,
however, instead of deepening reform Singh presided over a government that
lurched to the left by plumping for redistribution over growth.
Among Singh's first acts in office in 2004 was to scrap the Ministry of
Disinvestment that had begun privatizing loss-making state-owned companies.
(Taxpayers continue to subsidize staggeringly inefficient firms like Air India and Scooters India.) The
flagship economic initiative of Singh's first term -- an unwieldy
"employment guarantee" scheme promising 100 days of work for the
rural poor -- distorted labor
markets, boosted corruption and helped inflate the fiscal deficit.
The technocratic Singh also showed that he could
pander to voters just as nakedly as any old-fashioned populist. In 2008, a $15
billion loan waiver forgiving the debts of small farmers placed the Congress
Party's re-election above fiscal responsibility and fostering a responsible
culture of credit. Along with lending by state-owned banks to politically
well-connected firms, the waiver weakened the banking system. In 2013, Morgan
Stanley estimated problem
loans accounted for 9 percent of India's total compared to less than 5 percent
five years ago.
Less tangible, but arguably no less damaging, was
the Congress Party's popularization of the
term "inclusive growth," which implies that somehow growth is not a
good thing in itself. As commentator Clive Crook points out, Chinese
policymakers would see this ambivalence "as a form of derangement."
In India, it portended a slide back toward the old socialist habit of viewing
private enterprise with mistrust.
Besides a burst of trade liberalization, India achieved
precious little from Singh's first term (2004-2009). Nonetheless, growth
received a boost from a strong
global economy awash with surplus cash, and the effect of a flurry of reforms in taxation,
telecom, infrastructure, and aviation that Singh's predecessor Atal Bihari
Vajpayee had initiated. Meanwhile, government spending helped India
emerge from the global financial crisis relatively unscathed on the surface.
But the stage for the country's dramatic slowdown had already been set.
Only after Singh's comfortable reelection in 2009
did investors begin to lose confidence in India. They expected the prime
minister, no longer dependent on support from Communist parties as in his first
term, to unleash long-delayed reform in banking, insurance, and retail.
Instead, India began to backslide. The Environment Ministry quickly turned into
an immovable roadblock for large
steel, aluminum, and real estate projects. In 2012, then Finance Minister
Pranab Mukherjee amended the law to introduce retroactive
taxation after the government lost a $2.2 billion tax dispute with telecom firm
Vodafone. Needing to increase revenue collection to pay for expansive welfare
programs, tax authorities began aggressively targeting private firms, including
foreign ones such as Nokia,Cadbury, and Royal Dutch Shell.
Meanwhile, heavy-handed regulations requiring a greater proportion of
technology products sold domestically to be made in India angered firms such as
IBM.
Unsurprisingly, GDP growth plummeted. In the first
six years of Singh's tenure, it averaged a robust 8.6 percent; in the final
four, 4.6 percent, according to IMF estimates.
That's below par for a country at India's stage of
development, and not nearly fast enough to create the 15 million new jobs
the country needs annually to employ a youthful population. And yet India
remains one of the world's toughest large markets in which to do business. It
slipped three places to number 134 on the World Bank's Ease of Doing Business rankings in 2014,
behind such icons of market friendliness as Ukraine, Paraguay, and Ethiopia. As
for corruption, which Singh claims his government has worked hard to combat,
Transparency International ranks India 94 out of
177 countries worldwide, marginally worse than the 88th place it held in 2005.
Nor has India's economic slowdown forced a serious rethink. In 2013, Singh's
government passed a law promising subsidized food grains
to 800 million people, and a land acquisition law
that businessmen say will halt industrialization by making it exceedingly
difficult to buy land for factories.
Businesses have got the message: In the first seven
months of the fiscal year ending March 31, 2014, foreign direct
investment declined 13 percent
to $18.9 billion compared to the same period the previous year. Morgan Stanley
economist Ruchir Sharma blames Singh for
India's swift metamorphosis "from breakout to breakdown nation."
Singh epitomized the complacency and hubris of
India, Sharma said, which mistook a buoyant global economy for evidence that it
could continue to grow rapidly while focusing on redistribution rather than
reform.
Singh could easily be criticized for more than just
corruption scandals and mishandling the economy. In terms of foreign policy,
the prime minister's most cherished achievement,
the landmark 2008 civil nuclear agreement with the United States, has stalled:
Not a single new reactor has been built in India under its auspices after a
tough liability law passed by India's parliament in 2010 made projects commercially
unviable.
And the recent drama over the
arrest and de facto expulsion of Indian diplomat Devyani Khobragade -- over
charges of visa fraud and making false statements about a domestic employee --
was preceded by a longer period of drift between the two
nations.
In judging the prime minister's legacy, though,
these are mere asides. Singh first built his global reputation as an economic
reformer, and it is that record that will be scrutinized most carefully. In
hindsight, Singh was not an economic visionary, but a technocrat who managed to
scurry up the greasy pole of power by keeping his head down and his voice low.
When he served the reformist Prime Minister P. V. Narasimha Rao (1991-96),
Singh delivered reform. When he served the populist Sonia Gandhi, he
pursued "inclusive" growth.
Either way, it's not much of a legacy. Whoever is
sworn in as prime minister later this year will struggle to return India to the
path of high growth and rising global stature that so many Indians had begun to
take for granted. And they will remain aware that the man who once kindled hope
that India would be the next Asian tiger left behind the plodding elephant of
old.
RAVEENDRAN/AFP/Getty Images
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