The Tribune, Chandigarh, India

Striking the right chord
Copenhagen offers a chance to save the world

It is a matter of relief that the legitimate concerns of two key negotiators on India’s climate change stance at Copenhagen — Mr Chandrashekhar Dasgupta and Mr Prodipto Ghosh — have not been brushed aside and Union Environment Minister Jairam Ramesh has thought it fit to hand out assurances to them that India would not buckle under pressure. Mr Ramesh’s hint in a recent interview that India may be “flexible” on the stand of the developing world that emissions of all countries must be judged on per capita basis, understandably raised apprehensions among many. Another statement that India was ready to open its emission reduction actions to international scrutiny without being compensated made matters worse. By addressing these concerns and allaying fears of a sellout to the West, the government has committed itself to the straight path.

The impression of the two negotiators was that on the eve of the Copenhagen talks, India had been offering unilateral concessions without getting any assurances of reciprocity. This was particularly irksome because in the weeks preceding the negotiations, India had been vociferous about the need for the developed world to commit to the transfer of technology and finance to meet the objectives of greenhouse gas mitigation and adaptation to climate change. The argument of India, China and others of the developing bloc was that it was the West which was responsible for the gloomy ecological scenario due to its reckless carbon emissions during the phase of rapid industrialisation and consequently it must pay the price for the catastrophic consequences for the world.

With the Copenhagen summit having opened on Monday, all mankind would be watching how the rich and the developing countries rise to the challenge of saving the planet from an ecological catastrophe. India would be called upon to assume a leadership role which takes the needs of the developing world into account and yet approaches the issue with some flexibility so that the rich agree to join wholeheartedly in the process of redemption. A right mix of firmness and flexibility would indeed be the desirable course.

Waiting for justice
Bhopal victims deserve adequate relief

Prime Minister Manmohan Singh aptly echoed the nation’s sentiment when he said last week that the survivors of the Bhopal gas tragedy that occurred 25 years ago deserved adequate compensation. Unfortunately, this is one area where successive governments have failed to keep their promise. Though the Centre justifiably appropriated the gas victims’ right to legal defence under the doctrine of “the state as a parent”, it failed to prove that the Union Carbide plant’s faulty safety systems caused the horrendous incident that claimed over 20,000 lives. The Centre did little to bring Carbide’s former chairman Warren Anderson and other directors to book for criminal liability. The nation watched the shocking spectacle of Anderson getting bail from a Bhopal court soon after his arrest on December 7, 1984 and his flying back by a state government plane to New Delhi from where he managed to leave the country.

The compensation awarded by the Supreme Court in 1989 — $470 million — was not only unfair and inadequate but also diluted the Union Carbide plant’s civil liability. NGOs like the Bhopal Gas Peedith Sangharsh Sahyog Samiti have been running from pillar to post for adequate compensation but without success. They first approached the apex court, then the state government, the Madhya Pradesh High Court and now the apex court again.

There is a need to make a realistic assessment of the tragedy and sanction suitable compensation to the victims and survivors. The focus should be on the severity of the damage caused to the people’s health. Sadly, even after 25 years of the accident, illnesses like tuberculosis, cancer and blindness continue to plague survivors. Latest studies show how the water, air and land in the plant vicinity continued to be polluted, having an adverse effect on those living there. The extent of the damage looks far wider. What would a victim do with a compensation of just Rs 25,000 which is not enough even to repay one’s debts? The government should understand the gravity of the situation and act accordingly. Clearly, justice must not only be done but must also be seen to be done.

Thought for the Day

The rest is silence. — William Shakespeare

ARTICLE

Is ‘steel frame’ crumbling?
Civil servants then and now
by Amar Chandel

The Indian Civil Service was termed the “steel frame” before Independence for it held together a disparate subcontinent with steeply uneven levels of economic and social development with uniformly good governance through which the law was maintained and the prices held in check. It is ironical that in the 61 years after 1947 this frame, the most valuable inheritance of the new Republic, has been converted into an engine of corruption and non-performance.

Independent India consciously continued the civil service after changing the nomenclature to the Indian Administrative Service. Initially, civil servants operated the levers of power efficiently in line with the vision of great patriot-statesmen like Sardar Patel and Maulana Abdul Kalam Azad in a Cabinet headed by the visionary Jawaharlal Nehru. Today national and international surveys reveal that poverty in India is widespread and the law and order situation all over the country has become nightmarish, while many a civil servant has been caught red-handed, mired in corrupt practices. Yet, very few have been prosecuted and punished.

The general decline and degeneration of the civil service, according to most serving and retired IAS officers, has been caused by the service having fallen victim to its own exclusivity without the objective and eagle-eyed caliper, akin to the superintendence by the British Crown. Administrative history is replete with examples of ICS officers who were either dismissed or removed from service for betraying the power reposed in them. The situation in recent years is quite to the contrary. Black sheep and corrupt officers have not only proliferated but have climbed from success to success owing to their unholy commitment to their counterparts in the political firmament.

The Indian population under the poverty line — determined at 27.5 per cent by the Planning Commission in 2004-05 or 42 per cent as estimated by the World Bank in 2005 — owes this tragic fate to poor governance by an elite service in which a minister and the secretary of the department are two faces of the same coin and together responsible for the tragedy that is India.

In every state of the country (the worst being UP) IAS officers have become the praetorian guard and the devil’s equipment for blithely carrying out orders against public interest by couching them in legally perfect and justifiable documents. In many cases, crafty civil servants themselves suggest ways and means to their political masters on how to fill up their coffers out of public money or in tandem with industrial houses. In the process, such IAS officers keep their very substantial share of illegal money which is invested in industry and foreign bank accounts.

Curiously, some officers having made a substantial pile have moved on to the political arena.For the political dispensation, loyalty and pliability of civil servants has been the main criterion for giving key postings and certainly not their merit. As a result, many of the most undeserving officers went up the promotion ladder in leaps and bounds while the scrupulous and deserving got shuttled from one place to another. A few resisted; others sold their souls to the devil.

The degeneration was complete when traders/ contractors/ wheeler-dealers with equally inferior morals came into the picture. Together they enjoyed so much power that they managed to circumvent the whole system of good governance. Civil servants became uncivil masters while the public was enslaved. While politicians fear going back to the voters every five years; civil servants are there for their entire life and career.

The Punjab province has had some ICS stalwarts. The Lawrence Brothers, Sir Penderell Moon, Bakshi Tek Chand (the first Indian Deputy Commissioner of Lahore), Tirlok Singh (whose land settlement formula for displaced persons has been accepted as an authoritative work by the Supreme Court), N. K. Mukherjee (who later served as Governor during the years of militancy), M.S. Randhawa, E.N. Mangat Rai, A.L. Fletcher — to name only a few readily come to mind.

Fletcher Sahib was the model Financial Commissioner, Revenue, of Punjab. When the then Chief Minister telephoned him to influence decisions while he was presiding over the court, the FCR issued contempt of court notices to the Chief Minister.

The quality of political leadership in terms of governance and morality has reached rock bottom. A senior IAS officer, who was a successor Financial Commissioner to the legendary Fletcher Sahib, told me quite honestly that on court days, he received lists from the Chief Minister, the Revenue Minister and other important political dignitaries containing a fiat on the defendants or the plaintiffs who had to win their cases. This officer told me about the hopelessness of attempting to take revenue decisions on the basis of merit and record.

Public school education has come in for a lot of criticism for being elitist. But the fact remains that during British time, they were an ideal nursery for future civil servants. Sense of service and honour was instilled in their minds from a very early and impressionable age. Even when they came from a more modest background, young IAS officers of yore underwent invaluable training in which idealism was drummed into their minds by seniors of impeccable integrity. Such role models are now difficult to find.

There is another basic flaw at the recruitment stage when civil servants who have achieved the age of 30 years are permitted entry into the service. A former Director of the Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie, went on record wringing his hands about the impossible task of infusing any kind of idealism into such hard-boiled recruits.

There was a time when a corrupt civil servant was publicly identified and till he was removed from service he was ostracised by his peers. Today we witness the reverse phenomenon where civil servants, who are caught making money on the sly, are protected by the herd mentality of their colleagues. Almost all inquiries and investigations are scuttled and end in nought. The civil servants do not realise that in the process they endanger the credibility of the premier service.

Corruption in the police force is more tragic for it wields the power of arrest and detention and the concomitant humiliation that goes with it. As many as six Director-Generals of Police in Haryana and Punjab have been jailed for corruption while only recently an IPS officer was held for murder.

When I asked a senior IAS officer known for his integrity and uprightness what should be done to retrieve the situation, he looked towards the well-manicured lawn in front of his old-style house and said wistfully that once poison ivy wraps itself around the hedge, there is no way that it can be gotten rid of without uprooting the entire hedge. Who is going to show the moral courage to take such a drastic step?

It is understood that the UPSC is thinking of replacing the preliminary examination with an aptitude test common for all applicants. Says its chairman D P Agarwal: “The emphasis will be on testing the aptitude of the candidates for the demanding life in the civil service, as well as on ethical and moral dimensions of decision-making”. The trouble is that even if they do manage to hire the right men for the job, the wrong ones who are already there would tend to act as a contagion. The weeding out will have to be done very thoroughly if there is to be a turn-around in the country.

MIDDLE

The maiden shot
by Major-Gen G.G. Dwivedi

There was deafening silence. The only sound was of the fierce pounding of the heart deep inside the chest cavity. It was after a gruelling march of some 30-odd km that we had closed in on to Commila (now Bangladesh). Better part of the battalion was now stretched astride the road between the Commila airport and outer fringes of the town. Tumsum Bridge was the first objective. The fact was that the night of December 7 was destined to be part of history, one way or the other.

The start of operation for the initial phase of attack was to be silent one. As part of the leading platoon of the company, we had reached the close proximity of the enemy’s defences. One could see hazy silhouettes of men, frantically loading up weapons and equipment. So far, the surprise element was intact. To ensure that we did not give out the show by transmitting on radio set, the company commander asked me to walk back a few hundred yards and seek in person the commanding officer’s permission to commence the attack.

Barely had I covered hundred odd yards along with runner Chhotu Ram in toe, carefully avoiding stepping on string of men deployed close to road, all of a sudden flashlights appeared on the road. Apparently, two vehicles were heading towards the town. What could these be? Certainly not our own vehicles. As I was pondering over the issue, all hell broke lose! Everyone seemed to be firing at the vehicles, with whatever one had at hand.

Suddenly the leading vehicle, a Dodge jeep, screeched to a halt, right in front of me, barely at a handshake distance. Its tyres had possibly flattened, and it was taking fire from all directions. Trigger happiness was at its height. There were four of five occupants in the vehicle. One of them was firing the mounted Bren Machine Gun.

I too cocked my carbine. Adopting perfect battle crouch position I squeezed the trigger, aiming at the Bren Gunner. I felt the jerk of the burst. Suddenly, the Bren Gun stopped firing. Possibly the grip of the man had loosened up. It was a perfect hit at soft spot, right in the chest. He crumbled yelling, “have mercy”.

I exulted! After all, I had proved worthy of the long years of arduous training. I had stood my ground and was unfazed in the face of fire. Still maintaining battle crouch position, unmindful of bullets flying, I was upbeat, having passed muster in real battle. My first shot being perfect hit, undoubtedly I had earned my spurs. There was nothing left to prove now. Within seconds, from a greenhorn, I stood transformed into a battle hardened soldier.

In fraction of a second, I realised my carbine was not firing anymore. There was “double feed” fault which I failed to rectify. Chhotu Ram with one jerk pulled me down to lying position, while feverishly chanting “Hanuman Chalisa”. In less than a minute, there was a big bang and the vehicle was now ablaze; an inferno, a huge ball of fire.

There was utter confusion — real fog of war. Battle for Commilla was being fought fiercely. As usual, it is always a few plucky hearted who carry the day. Company Havilder Major Krishna Ram was the hero that night as it was he who set the stage for the fall of Commila, through his superhuman deed. He thus earned the distinction of winning the first Vir Chakra for the battalion. Alas! Posthumously.

Later on, during the long service career, one went through series of operational assignments, but no skirmish was as close as the one at Commila. Today, 38 years later, as I reflect back on the event, my mood is very somber. I am no more excited. In fact I have deep respect for the victim who fell to my fire, as he was a brave soldier who manned his weapon under most precarious circumstances. In the hindsight, I solemly wish my maiden shot need not have been a “bulls eye”.

OPED

Bane of parochialism
The Thackerays are still marginal players
by Amulya Ganguli

The Thackeray family is passing through a topsy-turvy period. After his demoralising defeat in the Maharashtra assembly elections, Bal Thackeray had bemoaned his loss of faith in the “Marathi-speaking people”. Suddenly, he demonstrated his old penchant of being more extremist than his challengers. Like all fighters, he took calculated risks. The most audacious of them was his targeting of Sachin Tendulkar, unarguably the tallest of Maharashtrians today.

By criticising Sachin’s view that Mumbai belonged to all, Balasaheb showed how he would not allow his feelings for the primacy of Marathi manoos to come in the way of his habit of speaking frankly. If necessary, he was prepared to hit out at the most celebrated of Marathis if that person claimed to be an Indian first and a Maharashtrian next.

Perhaps to guard his flank, Balasaheb then placed Sunil Gavaskar ahead of Tendulkar as a truer Marathi. But his aggressive tone was reminiscent of the old warhorse who could bring the Maximum City to a halt whenever he wanted.

Even as Balasaheb heaved a sigh of relief for having worsted Raj for the time being, there were reports about his daughter-in-law, Smita, joining the Congress. Considering that other Shivsainiks before her like Chhagan Bhujbal, Narayan Rane and Sanjay Nirupam had similarly crossed the floor, the rumours caused little surprise. How she was positioning herself against her father-in-law and others in the family was also evident from her article in the Loksatta which said that language was supposed to “link” people, not divide them.

However, as the bahu showed signs of restiveness, Raj performed a minor somersault by enabling the Shiv Sena to grab the Mumbai mayor’s post by ordering the MNS councillors to abstain from voting. Perhaps he felt that the persistent criticism of the MNS for helping the Congress and the NCP to win by dividing the saffron vote bank persuaded Raj to soften a little. Since the Samajwadi Party abstained from voting, thereby helping the Shiv Sena candidate, the subterranean “link” between the MNS of the Marathi manoos and the Samajwadi Party of the Hindi-speaking people was also obvious.

These twists and turns show that while the Thackerays may succeed in occasionally hitting the headlines, their outfits – the Shiv Sena and the MNS – would never be stable enough to be anything other than marginal parties. Balasaheb’s earlier lament, therefore, that “it is the Marathi-speaking people who have betrayed us” remains valid.

What seemed to be worrying the Shiv Sena chief was his inability to comprehend why even after his four-decade-long championing of the Marathi cause, the people of the state should have rejected him in favour of a new kid on the block. Since the latter was mouthing the same slogans, why did the people believe that he had a better chance of achieving what the aging patriarch could not?

Even if this perception among the people was true, what probably mystified the elder Thackeray was why a section of his supporters had turned to Raj although they must have known that there was no real chance of his attaining power. If, instead of trying a new alternative, the saffron-minded electorate had stood behind the Shiv Sena and the BJP, these two allies could have given the Congress-NCP combination a run for its money.

However, this isn’t how the voters look at an election scene. Except when there is a wave – as in 1977 after the Emergency or in 1989 after Indira Gandhi’s assassination – the electors seemingly follow their own preferences without giving much thought to a candidate’s or a party’s chances of success or failure. This unfocussed attitude explains why, apart from the Congress-NCP and the Shiv Sena-BJP alliances, Independents and other parties won as many as 41 seats in Maharashtra this time – up from 32 in 2004 – with a vote share of 26.6 per cent. It is worth pointing out that their percentage is higher than that of any other party, with the Congress coming second with 21 per cent.

The lesson for all the four main contenders, therefore, is that in terms of percentages, one-fourth of the electorate remains outside their political ambit. Since this section of what can be called floating voters is an important feature of a democracy, a primary objective of all parties is to win them over to add their votes to those of the committed supporters. However, these unattached voters rally for or against a party only when popular feelings are running high. Otherwise, they refuse to be politically labelled.

The senior Thackeray scripted his own downfall the moment he adopted the conflict-ridden politics of sub-nationalism with an excessive focus on the Marathi manoos in the mid-Sixties. Although he became a person to reckon with in Mumbai, his was the influence of a mafia don, for he was feared and not admired. While other state-based parties such as the Dravida Kazhagams, the Telugu Desam, the Akali Dal, the Biju Janata Dal and the Asom Gana Parishad, among others, not only acquired power but also a measure of legitimacy, the Shiv Sena earlier, and the MNS now, never quite achieved this status.

The explanation perhaps lies in their penchant for street violence which is the hallmark of both the Senas. None of the other parties, except for the AGP’s predecessor, the All Assam Students’ Union, based their politics on direct attacks on specific groups, as the Shiv Sena and the MNS have done with regard to south Indians and the Muslims, in the case of the Shiv Sena, and the north Indians where the MNS is concerned.

The adoption of such tactics could not but limit the growth potential of these two parties. Sections of the working class and the lower middle class may have voted for them. But neither the enlightened and liberal Marathis, nor the other non-Marathi residents of the state. Once a party purposefully stymies its own capability to widen its base of support, it is pointless to accuse the voters of betrayal. In a way, such a narrow-minded attitude underlines an incapacity to appreciate the dynamics of a democratic system with its innate tilt towards a diverse polity.

Girls attend schools in the shadow of the bombers
by Raymond Whitaker

Hasina Shah, 10, used to enjoy going to school, where Pashto and Urdu were her favourite subjects. “That was before the Taliban planted a bomb that explosion,” she says.

Though Muslim and traditional in outlook, Hasina’s home district of Buner in north-west Pakistan favours the education of girls. That could not be more different from the outlook of the Islamist extremists who seized the area earlier this year. Hasina described the process of intimidation that followed.

“First, two men stopped girls on their way to school and told them: ‘We don’t want you to attend,’” she said. “Word quickly spread, and some families kept their daughters at home.” Then older girls were told they could only go to school if they wore the all-enveloping burqa, which is not customary in Buner.

Finally, in April, the Taliban resorted to murder. “We were having an Urdu lesson on a Monday morning when there was a blast, and the wall fell down,” Hasina said. “A girl in another class was killed. All the children were screaming and crying. I ran all the way home.”

Shortly afterwards, the Pakistani government, backed by Britain and the United States, launched a military assault to drive the Taliban out of Buner and the neighbouring district of Swat. Hasina and her family, like nearly two million others, were forced to flee for their lives. But even though the militants have departed, and the family was able to return home in October, life is still far from normal.

After the school was repaired, the fears both of pupils and of parents kept many away at first. Hasina plucked up the courage to attend after the first week, but became so nervous that she would go home at break. “Then two people came to the school and talked to me and the others about what had happened,” she said.

“That helped us. I’m still talking about it a lot with my friends, and some of us are still scared, but I’m now staying for the whole day.”

The visitors to the school were counsellors paid for by ActionAid, whose work in Buner and Swat is being supported by The Independent on Sunday Christmas appeal. The charity is seeking to train 300 teachers in psycho-social support for traumatised pupils as part of a programme to restore the education system in a region laid waste this year by fighting.

In Swat, where nearly half of the 800 schools were damaged, ActionAid aims to provide temporary facilities for 7,000 pupils, who will be taught in tents insulated against the mountainous district’s freezing winters.

Such help cannot come fast enough for the secondary schoolgirls being taught in an open alleyway at a primary school in Mingora, Swat’s capital. “We used to have such a beautiful building,” said the vice-principal, sitting at her desk on an open veranda.

“Masked militants came one day last February, during the holidays, and told people living near the school to leave if they didn't want to die. Then they blew it up.”

Although there is a heavy army and police presence in Mingora, the extremists continue to broadcast threats on FM radio, keeping nerves on edge. All the teachers I spoke to asked for their names to be withheld, and female teachers and pupils remained veiled in photographs for their safety.

“The authorities suggested we rent a building, but we feel safer here in government premises,” the vice-principal said, indicating the policeman guarding the gate. Nor was the destruction confined to girls’ schools: nearby was a boys’ high school in which every door and window had been blasted out. The first-floor staff room was still in use, despite having one wall and part of the floor missing.

As bad as the physical damage has been the educational disruption suffered by tens of thousands of children who spent much of the year in refugee camps, and now find it impossible to concentrate on their studies. Months after they returned, many pupils are staying at home, either because of emotional disturbance or because their parents fear further acts of terrorism. The Taliban’s medieval attitude to women has hurt female education in particular.

“Problems started to emerge a couple of years ago,” said Saira, a teacher in a mixed primary school in Mingora. “There were irregular curfews, and the school would be open for a day, then closed for 10 days. “Schools started to receive letters from the Taliban, telling women teachers and older female pupils to wear the burqa,” Saira said. “We complied, but then they demanded that all women stay at home. Finally they started killing women they accused of ‘immorality’. I saw two with their heads chopped off.”

The Taliban were driven out of Mingora soon afterwards, but some teachers have decided, in the words of one of Saira’s colleagues: “Teaching is not safe any more – I want to do something else.” Most, however, are determined to carry on.

”If my pupils are going to die, I will die with them,” another female primary teacher said. Your donations to ActionAid will help not only to support brave women like these but to fight the ignorance and illiteracy on which extremism thrives.n

— By arrangement with The Independent

Delhi Durbar
SC is both litigant and adjudicator

What prompted the Supreme Court to don the dual role of the litigant and adjudicator on the judges' appointment issue? After the Central Information Commission’s fiat to the apex court to provide information on SC judges’ assets to an applicant under the RTI, it challenged the order in the High Court. The HC upheld the CIC’s ruling that the CJI was covered under the RTI. This forced the SC to appeal against this ruling before a larger Bench.

If the verdict of the larger HC Bench goes against it, the SC would have to seek relief from itself. So, when the CIC recently directed it to provide details of three judges’ appointment, the apex court filed a case with itself.

We need a mechanism such as the National Judicial Commission as in some Commonwealth countries for dealing with complaints against the judiciary.

Najma draws attention

Rajya Sabha member Najma Heptulla, demonstrated the aggressive part of her personality when the House was debating an issue concerning the plight of women. She noticed Civil Aviation Minister Praful Patel and Minister of State for External Affairs Shashi Tharoor engaged in animated discussions.

Hum bewakoof ki tarah bolte hain, lekin koi wahan nahi sun raha (we talk like fools, but nobody listens to us on the other side), she said, drawing Deputy Chairman K Rehman Khan’s attention towards the treasury benches. Khan smiled and said that the word bewakoof (fool) is being expunged from the proceedings since it is unparliamentary.

Main apne aap ko keh rahi hoon (I am talking about myself, was the cryptic reply of Najma. Her statement had a telling effect on those on the treasury benches as everybody attentively heard the remaining part of her speech.

Lonely Jaswant

With all eyes fixed at the BJP leaders post the tabling of Justice M.S Liberhan report in the Lok Sabha recently, the one man who must have been missing attention is former party loyalist Jaswant Singh.

Away from the BJP benches sits a lonely Jaswant, who usually tip toes into the House these days and parks himself along side his JD(U) friends in the third row on the opposition side. Though he sits firm, consciously denying emotions a place on his face, he can’t after all hide his interest in the play-out marking the post-Liberhan report tabling phase.

It was only after the tabling of the report that Jaswant started attending the LS since its winter session commenced. In fact the first day he attended the House was the anniversary of 26/11. The timing of his entrance coincided with the sparring between the BJP and leader of the House Pranab Mukherjee on the issue of delayed compensation to terror victims.

Contributed by R. Sedhuraman, Ashok Tuteja and Aditi Tandon

Corrections and clarifications

In the report “Team India in place on Copenhagan summit eve” (Page 1, December 7), the third sentence said “They pointed that they delayed….” It should instead have been “They pointed out that they delayed….”

The headline “Rs 71 crore unaccounted income disclosed” (Page 3, December 6) is incorrect. The raids unearthed the unaccounted income, not disclosed it.

In the report “It is raining snow in the Himalayas” (Page 1, December 4), the expression in the intro “This translates to the prospect of…” should have been “This translates into the….”

In the report Govt to regulate cane crushers along roads (Page 3, December 3), the opening sentence says “Jaggery eaters have a bad news”. The right way to word it would have been “There is bad news for jaggery consumers”.

Despite our earnest endeavour to keep The Tribune error-free, some errors do creep in at times. We are always eager to correct them.

This column appears twice a week — every Tuesday and Friday. We request our readers to write or e-mail to us whenever they find any error.

Readers in such cases can write to Mr Kamlendra Kanwar, Senior Associate Editor, The Tribune, Chandigarh, with the word “Corrections” on the envelope. His e-mail ID is kanwar@tribunemail.com.

H.K. Dua
Editor-in-Chief