PROFESSOR Pradip Khandwalla’s book reflects an organisation theorist’s concerns with the effective management of a developmental state. This primary concern, however, packs in itself several lines of exploration, which make for wider readership.

A significant strand running through these explorations is what perhaps signifies a radical strand in management theory itself — namely the problem of building a responsive state. A possible means of building such a state, according to the author, is to break it down into units which can have a more interactive relationship with the people and can be held accountable to the latter.

It is through this constructive medium, the people, the "master crafters" of the state, as the author calls them in his dedication, that he purports to rejuvenate the moribund modern state.

The most striking feature of the work is perhaps the hope it instills in the readers of the "workability" of the modern state. This hope becomes all the more remarkable as it strikes roots and develops alongside a lament emanating from a realistic assessment of the decadence that has set in and is eating into the institutions of the modern state. Delving into the experiences of some countries, especially those of East Asia, with the working of the modern state in specific areas of governance, the author offers a menu of options to restore vitality and legitimacy to the state in countries like India.

Before we launch into an assessment of these options, let us first see what, according to him, are the conditions which render the state inadequate to the tasks it ought to ideally perform. To begin with, the author distinguishes between (a) the democratic interventionist-welfare state which developed in western societies after the 1970s and (b) the developmental state which arose in the erstwhile Soviet bloc, spread in many developing societies, and is reminiscent of the state in the West in the reconstruction (post-war) era. The vulnerability of the modern state arises from two interrelated factors: (a) its staggering size and complexity which emerges ostensibly from the need to address the needs of the people and (b) its inability, therefore, to cater to these needs, which in turn leads to pressures on the state, and increases its vulnerability. This vulnerability, especially in poor countries, becomes part of a vicious circle — failed expectations combining with increased popular pressures and reinforcing authoritarian rule.

Revitalising the state and making it effectively democratic is then, according to the author, a greater challenge before the "world’s poor societies". The bureaucracy along with the political executive is identified as the most dysfunctional constituents of the developmental state, "seemingly impervious to reform". Another chapter attempts to allay such pessimistic conceptions. Drawing on "case studies" from Britain, Australia, New Zealand, Malaysia and Singapore, the author suggests that "sustained public service" reforms are not only "inevitable", but they also have a fair chance of success. There are, however, certain important "supporting conditions" which facilitate and determine this success.

Among them are: (a) a political commitment for change, (b) appropriate pacing of reforms, (c) a centralised monitoring progress, (d) ownership of change, (e) institutionalised mechanism for implementing change, (e) strengthening responsible professional bodies — industry and trade associations, trade unions, consumer and environmental protection groups, academic institutions, voluntary organisations, the media, etc. as sources for sustaining public service reform.

How exactly these reforms translate into reality is discussed in another chapter. The author recommends what he calls "a sort of creative fragmentation" which would allow the devolution of
authority "without loss of public purpose". Creative fragmentation does not involve a "minimal nihilistic state".

On the contrary, it involves a creative restructuring which will enable the state to assume a vast responsibility of public welfare. In literal terms it means that the detached units and the devolved areas owing to this restruturation acquire considerably greater freedom to innovate and perform, retaining at the same time their public purpose and accountability.

Three logical questions which the author addresses at this point are; what or how can this fragmentted state be held together, will such a state work, and how long will one have to wait for a fragmented and devolved state to deliver the goods. Public interest and accountability and concern with public welfare, the ends for which a fragmented state was primarily developed, along with centralised planning, trained cadres would, according to the author, provide the cement to hold the state together. Such a state would eventually deliver the goods but not in the short run, the duration depending on the innovative capabilities of the "managers".

The basic thrust of the argument for a fragmented state is to radically transform the state, without "a diminution of its activities", without, in other words, the state deviating from providing responsive and accountable governance. The "trimming of the sails of the state" discussed later focuses on how to rationalise the "portfolio of activities" of the state along these lines.

The reconfiguration of state’s activities involves not adding to its activities, as was the case with both the modular state forms — that is, welfare-interventionist and the developmental state. It rather involves finetuning of state’s activities, construed as "a pragmatic enterprise" driven not by ideology but a judicious sifting between "what the state can do well and what the state is (actually) doing".

The nature and extent of this finetuning is ultimately dependent on the specific contexts in which the state operates. While it makes good sense to add to "welfare" responsibilities of a "minimalist" state, other states are advised to privatise social infrastructural activities like health, education, research and development, if it optimises public accountability and public objectives. An appropriate slimming of the portfolio of a "fragmented" state would work best in conditions of excellence of political management.

To this end, the author urges the reinvention of the democratic state. The democratic state, the author claims, offers the best environment for conceptualising and implementing reforms which have the backing of an informed public opinion. Experience of the working of parliamentary democracies, especially in developing societies which are plural in character, show, however, endemic political instability. This in turn might lead to frequent, expensive elections, slow and cumbersome decision-making and rampant corruption in public life, cancelling the very conditions which are conducive to administrative reforms.

These disabling conditions can, however, be removed, and democracy sustained, if the legitimacy of the political executive is enhanced and the government is able to demonstrate to the people that it is sensitive to their needs. This can be achieved "in poor societies", suggests the author, "if civil rights, social justice, rapid economic development, social security and effective implementation of the decisions of the government are added to free and fair elections, adult franchise and democratic procedures of decision-making".

The author identifies some concrete ways through which some of the disabilities of democracy, especially instability (of tenure), unfairness (of representation in the legislature) and corruption can be diminished. A presidential form of government to replace the unstable parliamentary system, proportional representation to provide a fair share in governance to all political parties, state funding of elections, public scrutiny of the credentials of candidates, their training and public accountability could transform a "wheezing" democracy to an "athletic" one.

The author then points out that developmental states like India force other crisis points which put them under perpetual threat of backsliding into a moribund democracy. "Extremely differentiated, loosely coupled and soft to the point of near anarchy" is how the author describes the Indian state. Operating in a highly turbulent social, political and economic environment, the working of the Indian state reveals two "distinct but highly interdependent layers" — "the democratic populist" and the "bureaucratic regulatory", which often work at cross purposes and are "tethered" to anachronistic norms.

In an interesting analysis, the author points out that the manner in which the Indian state has functioned over the years can be described both as a "disaster" and conversely as "one of the world’s most effective developmental state". It is for enhancing this effectiveness that the author offers a menu of options in the last chapter. Some of them flow from the previous chapter and pertain to providing a fair and quality representation by screening contestants to weed out incompetent and corrupt candidates in elections.

An interesting item is the case for a "corporate state" in which the state and private interests share a collaborative relationship, in which the private sector and the government cooperate in strategic decision making in both public and the private sectors.

It is significant, however, that whereas this menu of options is offered for revitalising the democratic state and to purportedly rejuvenate a pluralistic society, corporate states have historically existed (as the author himself points out), in militant (pre-war) Japan and fascist Germany. Corporatism in India would, the author hopesenable India to evolve national strategies for promoting rapid industrial and exports growth and tackle problems of transition to an industrial state. How far this would involve the participation of the people and make such a state accountable to them is, however, not clear.

The lack of clarity on this count becomes more conspicuous in the context of the concern the author expresses in the previous chapter about the manner in which the implementation of directive principles which incorporate notions of social justice and welfare, is left entirely to the bureaucracy. The bureaucracy, he points out, is predominantly urban and upper or middle class with little understanding of or empathy for the poor. Moreover, the bureaucracy’s style of functioning is directive and manipulative rather than participative and therefore unsuitable for developmental tasks needing mobilisation and people’s participation.

One cannot help feeling that these sentiments do not quite gel with the rapid growth and strategic association model offered by the corporate state. One does, however, agree with the various problem areas identified by the author as plaguing the state, particularly in developing countries. One can also not dispute the credibility and urgency of the correctives which the author seeks to make.

THIS book distinguishes itself by its deft analysis of the north-eastern part of the country. The author touches on the isolation of this region and also how to mitigate the problems. The dances, the festivals, the wildlife all have been described in detail as part of the fiction. The author tends to go into too many details at times while the impatient reader wants to go ahead with the engrossing plot involving Rehana and Devyani, both culture buffs.

Dr Seth, a futurologist that he is, makes the characters speak his ideas of a changed system of governance. He ponders over the "what if" question many times and appears to be unclear about the ugly turn of events in the subcontinent. He dwells on the formation of elected bodies and how India should be governed by the best of men. Yes, the plot is complex and the author has dealt with it at two planes — actions and feelings of the characters. With a flourish of the pen, the novel at times mentions historical facts and incidents. The reference to different organisations and their involvement in militancy is too serious to be treated as fiction. It is not a single community but some people in all communities whom Dr Seth blames for the social disharmony.

The three women characters strike a fine balance in the novel. Lending charm and dignity, their feelings hold a place of their own. One helps the other two reach their goals knowingly or unknowingly. While Rehana uses Parthe to reach India and help the ISI, Devyani drifts away as a tourist but begins to experience the feeling she had never felt before — love. It is Devyani’s character whom the author seems to be fond of. He prefers her child-like yet womanly behaviour over that of Rehana, whose life revolves mainly around her mission which calls for the suppression of her feelings.

Then there is a soldier who grows up with a set of principles which come crashing down after he stumbles on the truth about Rehana.

Parthe’s life reflects the turmoil of a woman who feels shunned in love and one who has gone through the heyday of insurgency, living and breathing a movement but disgrunt- led with it after she was thrown out of the movement. A lot has been said in a few words about the insurgency, which had a major impact on the country.

The writer is an ardent follower of unity and is against all kinds of separatist movements. The narration is in a fast pace and the reader does not have time to reflect on the ultimate fate of the characters.

Dr Seth’s call for religious tolerance and an end to communal hatred unfolds gradually. His message comes subtly through the soldier’s sister who has had seen cordial relations between the Hindus and Muslims during partition. Yet her thoughts reflect the teachings of both religions which preach nonviolence and compassion.

A lot of research has gone into writing this book. The writer minces no word about the role of the USA, China and Pakistan. The CIA comes out in bad odour and Dr Seth holds the defunct USSR as a victim of its nefarious activities. The book is an Indian’s view on the dangers to the state from external and internal factors.

The writer has tried to drive home the point that it is the boundaries on land which divide us and make us hostile to one another. Our existence on a particular side of the boundary moulds our thinking, our attitude and belief. It is not religion which causes dispute but how we interpret it. No religion sanctions destruction and this the writer has powerfully brought out through the verses of the Quran.

The hatred of a few people and their mission to break up India are reflected in the novel while the people of both countries are unaware of the extent of intrusion and sabotage. Each character’s feelings are expressed — be it love or devotion — but the writer takes his own time to do so. It is not the common man who betrays his state for he is too busy earning his livelihood but a section of the elite which sells its patriotism.Parthe is right when she praises the Indian political system in which the people have freedom in all spheres and it is this freedom which we tend to misuse.

HAROLD Bloom’s book reminds me of an anecdote about a Delhi University professor of English. Asked by his colleagues what he proposed to do after his retirement, he said he wanted to read all the books that he had taught. Bloom seems to have taken serious heed of this. After a dazzling career at Yale where he taught generations of students, he seems to have flung his shoes and settled down in a hammock to literally savour poets, novelists, playwrights and short story writers, about many of whom he had earlier written authoritatively. This book, though like curate’s egg good only in parts, is a summation of years of serious thinking about the classics of European and American literature. It is his will and testament, so to speak.

Reading, like love, is both a solitary and a gregarious pleasure. Solitary because absorbed as you are in what Bloom calls the "strangeness" of a great book, you are like Seamus Heaney’s "inner émigré, grown long-haired and thoughtful" in the contemplation of the book’s riches, just as you are in the enjoyment of the lover’s gifts. Gregarious because the very solitude puts you in close dialogue with and animates an interior space in the imagined world of the writer. To an initiated reader a book is an enabling entity which, to quote Rilke, "once the work of the eyes is done" creates the need for us to "go and do the heart-work/on all the images imprisoned within you". It is in this sense that reading a classic for Bloom is "the most healing of pleasures".

What makes reading soul satisfying is a quality of intimacy, palpable and immediate. That quality takes the experience itself to another level. It becomes a privileged state beyond voyeurism, a kind of collaboration, a sense that the writer is disclosing subtle secrets about behaviour, about life, or simply the numerous possibilities of perception. Our ability to grasp is as important as the writer’s ability to show. Here I cannot help drawing a parallel from the cinema which also deserves to be "read" if it is to afford pleasure.

You will recall the Iranian director Mohsen Makhmalbaff’s 1996 film, "Gebbeh" (the carpet). The title character keeps on weaving the stages of her own sad story of waiting for her lover into the delicate designs of the carpet which the old village couple take out to wash in the beginning. The girl magically appears and relates her story. I see in this act of skilful weaving a metaphor for the intimacy of reading.

The persistent and impatient cry of the girl’s lover from across the desert is the opposite of the intimacy that patient waiting rewards. Just as the eternal-seeming waiting of the girl becomes the artifact represented by the carpet, so the slow, never-ending process of reading a classic becomes transformed into the structured response of the reader who could also double up as Roland Barthes’s lover. Even when most self-centred, intimacy makes both the lover and the reader transcend themselves, an ideal Harold Bloom aspires to in this most personal of his books. Italo Calvino, whose "Why Read the Classics" was reviewed in these pages earlier this year, would have readily hailed Bloom as a kindred spirit.

The "why" and the "how" in Bloom’s title need special comment. What passes for reading today (the Internet easing your job of acquiring bare information) is a heavily processed and manipulated response to the assembly-line type of creative and critical writing. The books written by most contemporary writers are too slick to be intimate. They seem too laminated to be natural, too much written to order to shock us with something "strange" and unpredictable. As the whole crop of memoirs by callow writers shows, the life span of most contemporary writing is too short to merit attention. (Even the Booker-grabbing work is a flash-in-the-pan wonder.)

The criticism that comes out of post-modern cliche-mongering is too ephemeral to be lasting, too closely tied to the here and now to create a sense of permanent curiosity. In place of great readers such as Ramon Fernandez, Jacques Riviere, F.R. Leavis, R.P. Blackmur, Raymond Williams and Frank Kermode, we have a plethora of post-modernist criticasters whose prejudiced ideologies and semi-literate prose take the palm in keeping wisdom at bay. They create acolytes, not readers. As an instance, I may cite the rash of adulation Spivaks and Bhabas (perhaps the most wilfully obfuscating people on the scene) enjoy today among the drooling bands of young Third World academics who obligingly parrot their nostrums in their classes.

Why read? asks Bloom. Because through reading we can establish contact, activate the art of attentiveness that our technological age stifles by providing readily available masticated kits of knowledge such as the Internet. Reading attentively and intimately is akin to loving and the great books of world literature deserve nothing less. Even the most cussed among us would not reject this assertion out of hand.

To Bloom, as to many of us, reading goes beyond the pre-packaged responses fostered by many post-modernist do-it-yourself methodologies, by those palpable designs that make literature a hand-maiden of political/sociological and other discourses. Reading is like the heroic act of Casablanca who braves the raging sea until his last breath. It is the act of discovery of the self’s capacity to resist manipulation and makeover.

The art of reading, as Bloom implies, may not survive our manufactured illusion of virtual reality which our technologies make possible. Yet reading is a kind of preserve — a figurative place where we need to go in order for the self to make contact with its sources. Tell this to the post-modernist celebrants of simultaneities and ruptures and you become an object of their contumely. See the pathetic illiteracy of these very celebrants and you have the last laugh.

Whereas there cannot be much opposition to Bloom for advocating reading instead of the self-serving indulgences offered by our quick-fixing experts, one must admit to a sense of unease that Bloom’s "how" provokes. Reviewers in the past few weeks are already blaming Bloom for a school-marm prissiness in prescribing his personal manual of what and how to read. Others accuse him of suggesting that the canon of great writers he chooses for special mention is the only canon worth talking about. Feminists, Bloom’s ever-watchful detractors, have as usual found him gender-biased. All this is true up to a point. Bloom knows very little of non-western canon and cannot be faulted for not mentioning it. And his choices need not be any less valid than those of similarly gifted critics.

What we can criticise in this book is Bloom’s criteria for choosing his authors. Even within the European and Anglo-American great tradition, Bloom appears selective. Though not as puritanically selective as Leavis, he has his own yardstick in measuring his author’s greatness. His "touchstone" is Shakespeare above every one else. In his book on Shakespeare reviewed in these columns some time back, he defines the Shakespearean as a quality of noninvolved involvement, of a capacity to so present the human as to seem to invent it for us. In other words, to be Shakespearean for Bloom is to possess both a zest for human vulnerability and a difficult skill in turning this vulnerability to advantage. For Bloom most classics of western literature possessed these virtues in one way or another. His readings emphasise his reasons for selecting these particular texts.

Bloom’s selection of his authors is personal, but has the advantage of wide acceptance. Who would quarrel with his choice of the great Romantics, the classic Victorian novelists, Proust, Ibsen, Melville, Dickinson and Dostoevesky, among others? They are all universally accepted as the markers by whom all literary works need to be measured. The new university wits (sic!) may find this selection arbitrary, but I don’t think any reader with some critical intelligence would reject it.

Literary canons are never fixed. They are always added to (as Bloom himself does in his choice of some promising contemporary novelists). I would certainly want to include Mahfouz’s "Cairo Trilogy" and Primodea’s "Baro Tetralogy" in the new canon as well as Prem Chand, Lu Hsun and the unjustly neglected "Bosnian Chronicle" by Ivo Andric, to mention only the leading Third World writers. Also I would not follow Bloom’s somewhat ex-cathedra pronouncements about the canon.

But most people would find a lot to admire the way he reads his authors. Facing great writers is an exercise in humility that Bloom manages to convey to his readers. This is his principal strength here. Under attack from the latest purveyors of shoddy argument against the canon, we turn to Bloom, as to any other genuine reader, for bracing good sense and true guidance.

INSTABILITY caused by a fractured mandate was not an issue at the time of independence, but today it is a crisis of democracy. A hung Parliament at the Centre and coalition governments in the States have adversely affected the pace of development. Not expecting this crisis, the framers of our Constitution emphasised accountability of the parliamentary system over the stability of the presidential system. Today one of the major issues of debate among politicians and academicians is a hung Parliament vis-a-vis powers of the President.

Keeping in view is situation the author of the book under review has attempted to describe in detail the powers of the President.

First his power to appoint the Prime Minister and, second, the power to dissolve the Lok Sabha. In addition to this, she has tried to do a comparative study of the working of the leading democracies of the world, highlighting the powers of the President in an identical situation.

The book is divided into six chapters. The first chapter gives a brief summary of the parliamentary form of government in India. It also gives a comparative description of the powers of the President with that of the king in England and the Presidents of the USA and France. The second chapter is a summary of the debates in the Constituent Assembly suggesting that the President was just a ceremonial head and, on the other hand, advancing that in special circumstances the President could act and exercise discretion. While discussing the powers of the President, in the next chapter, the author has focused on the thorny issue whether the President is bound to accept the advice of the Council of Ministers, specially while appointing the Prime Minister and dissolving the Lok Sabha. The next chapter is a brief account of the judicial interpretations of the President’s obligations to go by the advice of the Council of Ministers as laid down in the Articles 74, 75 and 85 of the Constitution.

One more chapter is a comprehensive discussion on the practical and political situations relating to the powers and functions of the President regarding (a) appointment of the Prime Minister when there is no clear majority of any political party and (b) dissolution of the House when (i) the Prime Minister has resigned before the expiry of the term of the Lok Sabha and (ii) the Council of Ministers has lost the confidence of the House. The last chapter sums up the discussion.

After independence, India adopted the parliamentary form of government both at the Centre and in the States with some modifications. All executive powers of the Union were vested in the President who was to exercise these powers on the advice of the Council of Ministers headed by the Prime Minister. That means the Council of Ministers is solely responsible for the functioning of the government.

If this is accepted, it has to be concluded that the framers of the Constitution plumped for responsibility rather than the stability of the government. This is perhaps the root cause of the crisis faced by Indian democracy in 1979, 1989, 1990 and 1998. Second, the overall satisfaction of the President in the exercise of executive powers and functioning is the responsibility of the Council of Ministers which itself is responsible to the Lok Sabha.

However, there are some issues regarding the powers and functions of the President, which remain vague and undefined in the Constitution. The first is the issue of discretionary powers and the second is the position of the President vis-a-vis the Council of Ministers. If one examines the executive powers and functions of the President in the parliamentary form of government, it is clear that the Head of State is different from the Head of Government. The executive powers are exercised by the Head of State but according to the advice of the Head of Government.

This means that in terms of the powers vested in him, the Indian President is closer to the President of the USA. However, when it comes to the exercise of these powers, his position is akin to the British monarch. To trace the intentions of the framers of the Constitution, the author has dug into the Constituent Assembly debates. The framers kept in view the Indian political background of the period and the practice and traditions evolved during the British rule. The author has given a historical account of these factors which influenced the framers of the constitution while outlining position of the President.

In the pre-independence era the Governor-General in Council, which consisted of the Viceroy and his Executive Council, used to run the affairs of the central government. Excluding those functions where he would use his discretion, the Viceroy used to act according to the advice of his Executive Council which was accountable directly to the Legislature. However, since he had excessive discretionary powers, the framers of the Indian Constitution decided in favour of a full-fledged parliamentary form of government where the President has no power to act on his own so long as the Council of Ministers commands a majority in Parliament.

But it is interesting to note that the President has not been provided with any clear powers to deal with a situation where the Council of Ministers loses majority support in the Parliament. Is the President bound to accept the advice of his Council of Ministers? Is such a Council of Ministers competent to advise the President? In such a situation the discretionary powers of the President takes a leap forward.

He can ask the Council of Ministers to prove its majority again or, he can let it hold on to power for an indefinate period giving it an opportunity to regain majority. Or, even more significantly, he can ask the leader of another party in Parliament to form a government and prove his or her majority within a given period. Such a situation is not unknown in the history of the Indian Parliament. For example, when Morarji Desai resigned in 1979 before completing his term as Prime Minister, Charan Singh, who did not command a majority in Parliament, was asked to form a government but he decided not to prove his majority. Even then he was asked to continue as caretaker Prime Minister till elections and a new government was formed.

The issues that arise about the powers of the President in such a situation relate to (a) the appointment of Prime Minister, (b) the continuation of the caretaker government which could not prove its majority, (c) the President’s obligation to accept the advice of such a government, and (d) the dissolution of the Lok Sabha.

This issue came up before the Supreme Court in the case of Madan Murari vs Charan Singh and the court held that the President of India was legally and constitutionally justified in calling upon Charan Singh to form the government. The court also ruled that it was not for the court to determine whether the President was politically justified in doing so as it could not sit on judgement on the political assessment of the President.

It is true, nevertheless, that it is precisely this so-called "political judgement" of the President in a situation like this which forms his discretionary powers. Whether or not it is legal or constitutional, a President who is not sufficiently discreet, can play havoc with the institutions of a democratic polity. On the other hand, a President who is too discreet in his use of powers can be put in an awkward situation by a powerful Prime Minister and his Council of Ministers where he can be misled to take decisions which go against the spirit of the democratic Constitution.

On the spirit of the Constitution, there is another important issue that needs to be discussed here and the author has competently handled it. It concerns the appointment as Prime Minister of a person who is the leader of the single largest party in Parliament. Here again we can go back to 1979 in search of an example. It was pointed out by the leader of the opposition after Morarji Desai resigned that instead of inviting Charan Singh, the President should invite Jagjiwan Ram, the leader of the then single largest party, to form the Ministry. We flouted a well established convention of parliamentary democracy under which it is generally the leader of the single largest party in Parliament who is asked to form a government.

At the same time, however, the leader of the single largest party is not always in a position to form the Ministry, whereas the leader of a coalition of parties which constitute the majority may be able to do so. What should the President do in such a situation? Should he follow the convention and allow the leader of the single largest party to prove his majority, or should he, instead, ask the leader of the coalition to form the Ministry. The Constitution is again silent on these matters.

As for the specific matter of whether and in what situation the President is bound to accept the advice of the Council of Ministers, the author discusses the issue in detail citing the Supreme Court rulings. The most interesting and crucial situation arises when a Ministry has resigned because of the loss of confidence of Parliament or the legislature and a new Ministry has been formed which has not as yet sought a vote of confidence and therefore, theoretically, does not command a majority in the House. In Dinesh Chandra vs Charan Singh, the Supreme Court ruled that the Constitution of the Council of Ministers must preceed in time the vote of confidence or no-confidence in Parliament.

This means that the President is, as such, bound to accept the advice of even a Council of Ministers which he has appointed but which has not proved its majority in Parliament. This Council can either advise the President to ask it to seek a vote of confidence, or even dissolve the Lok Sabha and order fresh elections. Going by this ruling even Charan Singh’s Ministry, which had not proved its majority, could be held to be competent to advise the President in the matter of the vote of confidence or the dissolution of the House. As can be seen, this is a most tricky and perhaps indeterminate judgement and one can choose to differ with it.

The author goes into its intricacies citing cases from the court in an admirable fashion. Some of these problems have arisen because the Constituent Assembly opted for the parliamentary form of government on the British model. What they could not anticipate was that the political realities in India could turn out to be different from those in Britain where there was, and still is a clear-cut two-party system in operation because of which the chances of a hung parliament are almost negligible. The only solution is to either bring about a radical change or to arm the President with clear-cut powers to deal with such situations.

According to the author, three opinions have been expressed on this. First, some experts claim that the present Constitution can effectively meet the challenge without any further amendment. Second, to meet the challenge of the changing socio-political values, some Articles must be changed or amended. Third, the present Constitution has failed to meet the challenges of the changing times and therefore, should be thrown out and a new Constitution should be framed. The author has favoured the second view.