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Terror in
courts Farmers as
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The
write thing
Limits of federalism
The
forbidden fruit
A neighbour in need A mullah dies, and
war comes knocking Chatterati
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Terror in courts THERE is no doubt that Friday’s serial bomb blasts at the district court complexes in Lucknow, Faizabad and Varanasi in UP, killing at least 13 people, were meticulously planned. They were not only aimed at striking terror but also at causing communal polarisation. People have frustrated the designs of the terrorist masterminds by not reacting on communal lines. They have taken the gory incidents in their stride as life goes on as usual in the affected cities and elsewhere in the state and the country. But the blasts have exposed the complacent functioning of the intelligence agencies and the state police. Chief Minister Mayawati has tried to wash her hands of by claiming that “we were caught unawares and did not have time to take any precautionary measures in the absence of any inputs on terrorists’ moves in the state from Central intelligence agencies”. Indulging in blame game will not do. The state police should have swung into action immediately after three alleged Jaish-e-Mohammed operatives were arrested for plotting to take Congress leader Rahul Gandhi as a hostage last week. They could have foreseen a retaliatory move by the terrorists when these suspected Jaish members were assaulted by lawyers at the Lucknow court. This is not to suggest that there may be truth in the claim made through an email that the lawyers have been targeted in retaliation for their refusal to defend the terrorist suspects in the courts. But every bit of information is invaluable. No complacency should be shown in having adequate security arrangements at every sensitive place and wherever there is the possibility of terrorists springing a surprise. No leniency should be shown in maintaining vigil at the places where terrorist outfits are believed to have sleeper cells. Unfortunately, the nation is yet to know the truth about most of the major bomb blasts like those that occurred in Delhi in October 2005, in Varanasi in March 2006, in Mumbai in July 2006, in Malegaon in September 2006, in Samjhauta Express in February 2007, in Ludhiana in October 2007 and in Hyderabad in August 2007. All these speak volumes about the country’s inefficient intelligence-gathering network. This is not the way to fight the hydra-headed menace.
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Farmers as partners THE government has finally announced the much-awaited National Farm Policy, based on the comprehensive recommendations of the National Commission on Farmers (NCF) headed by agricultural scientist M.S. Swaminathan. Union agriculture minister Sharad Pawar has stated in Parliament that the draft policy suggested by the NCF as well as inputs from central and state ministries have been taken into account. While full details are awaited, it is hoped that the NCF’s reports, mission statements and policy recommendations have been appropriately incorporated and the year 2006-2007 can truly be remembered as the NCF-denominated “year of the farmer.” The fourth report of the NCF was submitted in June last year and it made clear that the immediate goal was a policy, the first in “10,000 years of Indian farming.” A mission statement focused on ending the continued spate of farmers’ suicides and bringing to fruition the long pending agenda of land and water reforms. Dr Swaminathan himself believes that the steps recommended are small and, if implemented, will directly benefit the farmer. The most important thing the ministries and officials should remember is his admonition that farmers should not be treated as beneficiaries of small government programmes, but as “partners in development and custodians of food security and national pride.” The farm policy is sure to have paid attention to key recommendations on soil enhancement, water harvesting, conservation and efficient and equitable use of water by empowering local government, credit reforms and credit and insurance literacy, and closing the gap between scientific knowledge and practical application in the field. And it is common sense that the gap between what the farmer gets and what the consumer pays be reduced. Other recommendations like the creation of market-driven multiple livelihood opportunities will also be needed to keep the pressure away from land. The focus of the policy on improving net incomes is welcome but this can happen only with such a holistic approach. Announcing a policy is only the first step. |
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The write thing CHAIRMAN of selectors Dilip Vengsarkar has done the right thing by agreeing to stop his syndicated columns in newspapers. The idea of a chairman of selectors, who has the responsibility of ensuring that the Indian cricket team is composed of the best men for the job, also simultaneously offering comments on the individuals in public, was discomfiting, to say the least. His argument that he was only analysing the game and not mentioning individual players did not wash, as obviously, in a game played by just 11 people, individual names are indeed going to figure. After the dropping of Rahul Dravid from the one-day side for the just concluded series with Pakistan, for example, Vengsarkar wrote about the benching, offering the tired cliché that as a player of merit Dravid would be back soon. Considering the several controversies that inevitably accompany selection, a public column can definitely pose problems. Vengsarkar may indeed be getting a large recompense for his writing efforts, which his spokespersons have argued constitute his “livelihood.” If that is indeed the case, a livelihood incompatible with a selection post obviously cannot be continued. The Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) was quick to threaten Dilip Vengsarkar with a show cause notice, when columns continued to appear in violation of the stricture against them. What is perhaps worth a re-look is the nature of compensation and expenses that selectors and the chairman of selectors receive. If this is indeed on the inadequate side, then the BCCI should consider increasing the benefits. A selection post may not be forever, and if the best have to be attracted to take up the job, it must be made worthwhile for them. Selectors can, after all, make or break a young cricketer’s career, not to mention the Indian cricket team itself.
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You bid me burn your letters. But I must forget you first.
— John Adams |
Limits of federalism
Prime Minister
Manmohan Singh has called for a debate on the new political challenges confronting the federal systems worldwide. Inaugurating the Fourth International Conference on Federalism in New Delhi recently, he stressed the need for effective management of “tensions” between centralisation in certain spheres of governance and decentralisation in others. The conference, organised by the Inter-State Council Secretariat, Union Home Ministry and the Forum of Federations, Ottawa, which this writer attended, examined federalism from various angles. The consensus was that an effective federal system was the key to good governance and balanced growth, as aptly emphasised by Dr Manmohan Singh. Of late, the nation has seen a paradigm shift in Centre-state relations. Following the collapse of the one-party dominant system, regional parties seem to have given a new definition of federalism, something contrary to the one that prevailed during the Indira Gandhi-Rajiv Gandhi rule. Earlier, the Congress High Command used to set the agenda for the country. Chief Ministers were sacked at its will. There is some improvement today, but Article 356 continues to be an Albatross around the neck of Opposition-ruled Chief Ministers. Goa, Jharkhand and Bihar are concrete examples. In Karnataka, of course, the Centre is following the rulebook scrupulously. This is mainly because of the Supreme Court rulings in the S.R. Bommai and Bihar dissolution cases making Parliament’s ratification mandatory for House dissolution. But then, the scope for mischief is very much there because of pliable Governors. This is a major irritant in Centre-state relations. Several recommendations for the appointment of apolitical Governors remain on paper only. Today, the UPA government’s allies are so powerful that the Prime Minister has to consult them at every step. The Left is keeping the Centre on a tight leash on the nuclear deal. Owing to coalition compulsions, the Centre’s response to the Nandigram carnage has been belated and inadequate. It is also keeping mum on tainted ministers, criminalisation of politics and electoral reforms. The RJD, the DMK, the PMK, the BSP are all extracting their pound of flesh from the Centre. This has undermined the Prime Minister’s authority and affected the quality of governance. Consider how Union Health Minister Anbumani Ramadoss has been pursuing his one-point agenda to sack AIIMS Director Dr Venugopal. If there has been general dissatisfaction among the states all these years, the Centre is largely to be blamed. Issues of fiscal federalism have been thorny, though inter-governmental jurisdiction over taxation has been clearly demarcated in the Union and State Lists (VII Schedule) of the Constitution. The Centre has not fairly operated upon these constitutional arrangements and instead politicised financial transfers. Differences persist among the states on the low overall ceiling on Central transfers, inconsistent criteria for inter-se allocation of tax revenues among states and glaring disparities in the flow of resources. When Uttar Pradesh Chief Minister Mayawati sought Rs 15,000 crore from the Centre as “soft loan” for infrastructure development just before the presidential elections, one was reminded of how Mr N. Chandrababu Naidu was making undue demands on the Vajpayee government in return for the Telugu Desam’s strategic support to it. Amazingly, while Central assistance to all states increased by only 2.6 per cent during 2000-02, Andhra Pradesh’s share rose by a whopping 34 per cent! Over the years, the Central intervention in the states’ developmental programmes has increased so much that over 60 per cent of resource transfers from the Centre to the states are made by the Planning Commission and the Central ministries and not by the Finance Commission. Admittedly, the issue of economic planning and development cannot be settled through the Planning and Finance Commissions alone. They require coordinated efforts which can best be institutionalised in the National Development Council and the Inter-State Council. Sadly, the Planning Commission has not emerged as a deliberative body between the Centre and the states, pulling its weight in national planning and development. Its meetings are generally rushed and agenda crowded. Yojana Bhavan’s strong nexus with the Centre’s governmental structure has led to bureaucratisation. In the process of planning, what begins as a technically proficient exercise ends up in the making up of figures of resources, outlays and targets; all this is further confounded by the inclusion of schemes by way of political expediency, requiring repeated statistical jugglery about plan implementation, poverty eradication, creation of employment, etc. To reduce “tensions” between the Centre and the states, it is the logic of federalism that must dictate the framework of Centre-state relations in planning and development. In planning, issues like major basic industries, oil and gas exploration and production, inter-state projects like river valley development, integrated modes of transportation, railways, highways and waterways, shipping and so on should be handled from the Central funds. This should be subject to the coordinating advisory role of the planning body and coordination by the ministry with the states concerned. Similarly, the states should be free to plan their economic development within the sectoral policy lines approved by the NDC, but without being hampered by any sectoral financial allocations handed down from above. Charges of political bias and discrimination can be removed if resource transfer or devolution of funds is handled impartially by a truly autonomous Finance Commission whose recommendations are binding on the Centre and the states. In such a set up, it would be far easier to restore to Yojana Bhavan the functions originally conceived for it. It would then become an advisory and coordinating expert planning body that would also assess the resources, formulate the plan in close association with the state planning commissions, finalise it with the NDC’s approval, make recommendations on policy and administration and arrange for objective appraisal of plan implementation. We, certainly, need a strong Centre, but this should not be confused with centralisation. Otherwise, this will breed discontent and distrust. Moreover, over-centralisation not only saps the will of the states from cooperating with the Centre but also makes the Centre top-heavy and inefficient. Similarly, while making demands, regional parties should appreciate the Centre’s national goals and objectives just as the Centre, while fulfilling regional aspirations, should not compromise its national commitment. The test of real statesmanship today is to work out an equitable via media between the conflicting pulls of centralisation and devolution, between two divergent paths, both having one common objective - securing the maximum strength, stability and development of all the states. It is hoped that the Justice M.M. Punchi Commission will examine the Centre-state relations in their entirety and suggest effective measures to strengthen the federal structure. What India needs is cooperative federalism between the Centre, states and local bodies and not polyphonic federalism. Federalism is a basic feature of the Indian Constitution. It should remain the loadstar to preserve and protect the country’s unity and the democratic character of its governance. The principles of freedom and rule of law should remain
unchanged.
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The forbidden fruit There
they were, all nine of them, in a glass bowl on the sideboard. The dappled morning light, filtering through the mullioned window, threw into relief their plump ripeness. They had been delivered at the kitchen door by Gyanji, my PA. They were irresistible and I picked one up and bit into it, the juice dribbling down my chin. My friend, Khurshid, theorises that fruits and vegetables, once plucked, are dead and like all dead organisms, each passing hour causes a deterioration in their aroma and their taste. Going by this theory the pear I was eating could not have been plucked more than an hour ago. As I chewed, a disturbing sense of deja vu came stealing into my mind. There was something about the taste that was hauntingly familiar. It was only when I picked up a second pear that the memory came back with absolute clarity. I was hungry, persistently hungry. Anyone who has been in a boarding school for boys in the hills, in the fifties, will know at once the quality and intensity of the hunger that I am referring to. Like all my peers I did everything I could to beat this hunger. We wheedled an extra slice of cake or a few slices of bread from John, the Headcook. We bartered our canvas shoes and half our cakes of soap for a variety of eatables. And when all else failed, we raided the bhutta fields, the tomato and cucumbers of the village below the main playing field. On one such foraging expedition I came across a pear tree covered with lush ripe fruit. I climbed onto the tree and sat there gorging on pear after pear : I have never felt so satiated in my life. The trouble began when I climbed down from the tree. The owner stood at the base and without asking any questions marched me up to Mr Cowell, the Deputy Headmaster. Mr Cowell was a man of action and immediately picked up his cane and gave me a resounding walloping and as I looked up after the last lash I saw the look of satisfaction on my captor’s face. The taste of the pears I was eating brought back the memory of those long-ago pears. As I ruminated on the past, a sudden realisation dawned on me. Gyanji did live in the same hamlet where I had been caught stealing the pears. Was he in anyway related to the owner of the tree? I was now the Headmaster of the school where I had studied and a little later when I reached my office I called Gyanji in. “Thank you for those pears. They were simply delicious.” A smile spread over his broad, priest–like face. “My father said you would remember the taste”. There was a mischievous glint in his eyes. His father must have said a great deal more — he must have told him all the gory details of that long-ago
incident. |
A neighbour in need
The
cyclone devastation in Bangladesh is harrowing. It has been described as the worst in over a decade - even for a country that is virtually an annual victim of nature’s fury. The toll of human life in the 1991 visitation of nature’s wrath was nearly 150,000. Thanks to Dhaka’s improved cyclone management capability, the estimates of human fatalities now vary from 3,500 to 10,000. True, far-flung and isolated areas along the devastated coast have yet to be reached. Further, tens of thousands of head of cattle have perished and the loss of crops and property would be reckoned in tens of millions of US dollars. The havoc wrought is described as heart- rending. But the human tragedy is hardly a blip on the radar screen of our national awareness. The newspapers and the electronic media have been dwelling on it erratically, except the Bengali language ones, to an extent. The irony is that the country of Mahatma Gandhi, which had looked askance at government-sponsored welfare and relief activities, does not, practically since Independence, move except at official initiative. And the Government is either insensitive to the Bangladesh disaster, or more than characteristically sluggish, in rushing to the aid of the neighbour in the birth of which India had played the midwife, to put it euphemistically. Heightening the irony, the Prime Minister and the Congress chief have been celebrating Indiraji’s birth anniversary with éclat, flying balloons and dancing in front of strobe lights, unmindful that the country which owed its emergence into the comity of nations to the Leader, is in dire distress, with the people suffering. The Reuters correspondent on the spot quoted a relief worker, Mohammad Selim at Bagerhat, one of the worst- hit areas, as saying ‘often it looks like we are in a valley of death.’ The last large-scale succour was on Sunday, 18 November, when two US Marine C-130 transport aircraft had gone to Dhaka with medical supplies. Next-door neighbour, India, has given so far a meagre one million US dollars for relief of a natural disaster which laid bare southern Bangladesh and which could as well have hit eastern India -- if the wind direction had been a little to the north. The stricken country badly needed naval vessels laden with not only medical supplies but also doctors and other health technicians to fight and prevent epidemics as well as military helicopters with experience of fighting floods and other natural disasters. Our security gurus have always clamoured for such a capability for our navy, which even if it were not yet a blue water force could still project power with ease in peace and war in the Bay of Bengal. India has a tradition and history of being a source of aid to countries in the neighborhood. As long ago as the 1930s, Nehru, as president of the Indian National Congress – not today’s dynastic caricature – had sent a medical mission to China facing aggression from imperial Japan. One of the medical men, Dr Kotnis, ‘did not return.’ Khwaja Ahmed Abbas had immortalised the event into a story made into a film by V. Shantaram. Dr Manmohan Singh’s government wants Foreign Minister Pranab Mukherjee to head a relief mission to Dhaka -- presumably because he hails from West Bengal and is one of the very senior Cabinet ministers. So it has to wait till his return from the Conference of Commonwealth Heads of Government at Kampala in Uganda. Home Minister Shivraj Patil, who should have undertaken the task, had been rehabilitated in the Upper House after his defeat in a Lok Sabha election. His being from-earthquake- razed Latur in Maharashtra is less relevant than his flair for putting his foot in the mouth. As for Priyaranjan Das Munshi, a relatively junior occupant of the Treasury Benches, his forte is using the Government media for party propaganda. With crucial assembly elections due in Gujarat and Himachal Pradesh, he has to stay put to run down the BJP. It would have been even more fitting if West Bengal parties, especially the ruling CPI (M), had taken the lead in rushing material and moral help to fellow Bengalis across our eastern border and if Mamta Banerjee’s Trinamul Congress had joined in, or at least done so on its own. So could the West Bengal Congress Committee. But they all have bigger fish to fry in Nandigram. The fact of the matter is that the Congress party, in its present condition, is no more than an election machine. The other parties are no better. Not very long ago, the RSS was a veritable workhorse for relief work with the BJP playing second fiddle. But now they live from election to election, politicking all the while. Of course, there is also the moot point whether Bangladesh would welcome assistance from a ‘non-secular’ outfit. The same would be applicable to the Shiv Sena, which had a live-wire infrastructure for relief work in Maharashtra. The loud-mouthed ‘secularists’, active day and night for minority protection in India, would not move their little finger to help their co-religionists next door. What a fall, India!
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A mullah dies, and war comes knocking KANDAHAR, Afghanistan – I woke to the sound of artillery thudding -- like the beat of a heavy heart. It was Afghan army batteries firing into Arghandab, at new Taliban positions there. Through several nights, I had been listening, my ears pricking like a dog’s, to the faint popping of gunfire, the clattering of helicopters, the whine of personnel carriers speeding along the roads, falling asleep only when the morning call to prayer rang out in the pre-dawn chill. I can’t explain how this felt, the penetration of war to this crucial part of Kandahar, where I have lived for six years. The latest in the line of Alokozai leaders was the gentle, jocular military genius Mullah Naqib, who died of a heart attack in mid-October. Mullah Naqib fought the Soviets from his base in Arghandab; they were never able to dislodge the mujahideen from this place. As the Taliban gathered strength and insolence recently, they would contact the mullah from time to time, trying to strike a deal, telling him that they wished him no ill, but just to pass through Arghandab. He would bellow his retort. He would get on the radio and vow by God that if they dared set foot inside his Arghandab, the whole population would rise up. And thus he held his fractious, disgruntled tribesmen firm against them. A week after the mullah’s death, Zmarai, the district police chief, received a phone call at 1 a.m. “You’re alone now that Mullah Naqib is gone,” said the voice on the line. “We’re coming to Arghandab, no matter what. Why don’t you just stand aside? We’re your friends and tribesmen.” “If you’re coming as our friends,” Zmarai shot back, “don’t. If you’re coming as our enemies, we will fight you.” It seemed as though the governor of Kandahar, President Hamid Karzai’s two brothers and the president himself were deliberately creating the conditions for disaster in Arghandab. They had interfered in the recent selection of a new elder, sidelining a man who had been Mullah Naqib’s deputy during the anti-Soviet jihad, army corps commander after the fall of the Taliban, then chief of police in two cities. This man had been implacable in his opposition to the Taliban since before the Islamic radicals first appeared in Kandahar in 1994. If anyone knew how to fight the Taliban in Arghandab, it was he. And yet the government’s machinations were plainly aimed at shutting him out. Some days later, after a couple of desultory Taliban advances across the Arghandab district line, word leaked out from an infiltrated contact that they were withdrawing back to Khakrez, that we were safe for a time. It was a lie. In fact, just a day or two before, the Khakrez district chief – a friend of the Karzais’ – had struck a deal with the Taliban, according to numerous Khakrez residents, a deal reportedly sealed with a transfer of some weapons and some wheat. They could go where they liked, as long as they didn’t attack the police. On Monday, Oct. 29, I had a missed call from Zmarai on my cellphone. I rang him back. The Taliban were in Chahar Ghulba, his racing words announced, Mullah Naqib’s home village. They were in his very house. Their commanders were meeting in the village mosque, and they were thick in the country all around. All through that day, the battle lines were drawn: the Taliban north of the Arghandab river bed, government forces to the south. Cars ferried women and children away from the scene of the impending fight. Others, on foot, drove the animals that sustained their families ahead of them as they moved south, toward the city of Kandahar. It was the scene that has come to characterize the tragedies of recent years: poor people, innocent of the decisions that brought about violent events, fleeing ahead of their unfolding. On the base the next day, I found a quietly exultant mood of work well done: NATO troops had responded, the Afghan National Army had responded, and some villages had been retaken, with significant Taliban casualties. The beginnings of a noose had been arrayed around the rest. And yet I knew that the significance of this event could not be weighed in the usual quantitative metrics dear to journalists and military men. What had in fact transpired, in my view, was a deft, successful psychological operations action by the Taliban. Their attack on Arghandab was designed to communicate, and it did - eloquently. It said that they are here. It said that, despite the likelihood that they would attack after the death of Mullah Naqib, no obstacle was thrown up to oppose them, and they were able to walk into the district. In the end, after three days of fighting, the Taliban were not crushed in the jaws of a closing trap, as we had been led to expect. They executed a disciplined, fighting withdrawal – one of the most difficult maneuvers on a battlefield. Even their retreat emphasized their message. Now, Kandaharis fear, they will quietly capitalize on this psy-ops victory. They will visit the villages and the mosques in tiny groups. They will instill their poison, a savant dose of seduction (“Brother, we have nothing against you; you are a Muslim, and we love you. Our fight is with the infidels. Let us pass”) and terror: a “collaborator” tracked down and cut into pieces, a suicide bomber at a normally tranquil village crossroads. They will work to turn the people toward the inevitable. These Taliban are not home-grown insurgents. These Taliban, I have become convinced by evidence gathered over the past six years, were reconstituted into a force for mischief by the military establishment – in other words, it seems to me, the government – of Pakistan, as a proxy fighting force to advance Pakistan’s long-cherished agenda: to control all or part of Afghanistan, directly or indirectly. The only reason Pakistan’s invasion-by-proxy has morphed into something even vaguely resembling an insurgency is that the Afghan people are at the limit of their endurance with a government that pillages and brutalizes them and lies to them barefaced. Proper conduct of government is the best antidote to the Taliban. Provided with accountable, responsive leadership, the Afghan people wouldn’t give that lot a second glance. The writer, a former reporter, runs a local cooperative in Afghanistan By arrangement with
LA Times-Washington Post |
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Chatterati The
sons of politicians are surely making waves, but so are the daughters. Three first-time women MPs – Sharad Pawar’s daughter Supriya Sule, Karunanidhi’s daughter Kanimozhi and N.T. Rama Rao’s daughter Purandeswari – were chatting in the Central Hall when Lalu Prasad Yadav noticed them. He commented to his companion that it was quite an elite club, of chief ministers’ daughters turned MPs. The RJD parliamentarian, sensing an opportunity to score some brownie points with his boss, promptly quipped: “Next time, get your daughter Misa elected to the Rajya Sabha from Bihar. The club will have a fourth member.” A pleased RJD chief raised his hand and mumbled “shabaash” through a mouthful of paan. With the women’s reservation Bill on a high once again, many more daughters will shine. So, party women who have worked for years, neglecting their motherly and wifely duties, can just keep shouting slogans forever. The daughters are taking over.
Advani’s b-day If sycophancy dominates in the Congress it is obviously catching on with other parties also. Recently, L.K. Advani turned 80. For his birthday, several BJP leaders from across the country flew to Delhi to wish him, keeping in mind that he is the next prime minister candidate for the BJP. The only Chief Minister who did not show up was Narendra Modi, who thought that campaigning in Gujarat was more important than chamchagiri. The four BJP Chief Ministers present then had to stay back along with various other BJP leaders to watch the screening of Advani’s daughter Pratibha’s new documentary on Hanuman.
Change of address The Congress is about to move out of its address of almost three decades, which has been witness to many a rise and fall. The address 24, Akbar Road, will soon be changed to Rouse Avenue, where Congress is to construct a swanky, modern work station. The Akbar Road bungalow has been the headquarters of the Congress since 1980, when it regained power after the defeat in 1977. Some years ago the party refused to shift to Jawahar Bhavan on Rajendra Prasad Road because of astrological advice. The location suited Sonia Gandhi too, who occupies 10, Janpath next door. She had to just walk through the hedge. The Supreme Court has asked for all political offices to move out of Lutyens’ bungalow zone. The urban development ministry now has to be serious about looking into breaking of norms by parties. The occupants have raised additional structures around the original bungalows, subverting aesthetics, heritage and greenery. And there are 34 bungalows in Lutyens’ zone for their offices. But no one wants to leave central Delhi and go to the outskirts. Lalu Prasad’s Rashtriya Janata Dal, which offers unconditional support to the UPA regime, has been allotted a prime 1,900 sq. metre plot on Rouse Avenue for just Rs 11 lakh. And many are waiting for prime land at throw-away prices.
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