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The Power of Silence

The tragedy of Indian democracy is not ourpresent rulers but the Opposition we have.

Sometimes I despair for our young republic. On the surface there may be daily signs ofhectic, even momentous, change, but closer examination reveals a mirage. The essentials,the core, the things which secure authentic progress are irredeemably resistant to change.Cynicism and apathy appear to be our presiding deities.

Dr E.A.S. Sarma’s insider account of how the Prime Minister’s Officefunctions, published in this magazine last week has, we understand, disturbed Delhi’sthinking classes. More, unfortunately, as power-gossip or low drama in high places, thancause for outrage or concern. As a result, while privately we are patted, while phoneskeep buzzing with only-you-could-have-done-it messages, while hands are pumped in praise,the silence (in terms of reaction or response) is loud, clear and deafening. Correctivesteps? You must be joking. Even public expressions of disquiet are conspicuous by theirabsence. Those who stick their neck out—they are fast becoming an endangeredspecies—might as well shut up shop and go home.

That one of India’s most senior and distinguished civil servants, an officer whosecapability, integrity and devotion to duty is considered exemplary even by his critics, ishounded out of service because it has become impossible for him to function professionallyshould be ringing alarm bells for our political establishment. Infinitely more worrying,however, is the graphic and scary picture the former economic affairs secretary paints ofhow large and powerful business houses routinely fix multi-crore decisions.

It is not just a matter of one bureaucrat lining his pocket or one business housewangling a few concessions. What we are witnessing is a systematic perversion of clearlylaid-down norms and procedures, a subversion of governance.

The inevitable demoralisation in the civil service spread by such rot means that thebest and the brightest either quit or mark time or get ensnared. Dr Sarma fears Indiacould become a “banana republic”. Most would assert it has already become one.

To ensure that Dr Sarma’s charges remain unaddressed and unopposed, we have seen asuperb and masterly display of news management. And parliament management. Spin doctorswere never needed because no spinning was required. Silence, massive silence, orchestratedsilence, was the selected tactic. Its efficacy has left me in breathless admiration.

With few honourable exceptions, the Indian press has become so ideologically committedand so terrified of real and perceived commercial pressures that I never really expectedany significant support or follow-up investigation. (No journalist, by the way, thought itfit to get in touch with Dr Sarma or even enquire where he was.) Add to that the legendaryand proven clout of the Big Boys and you begin to understand the all-pervading silence.

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But how does one explain the perplexing quiet of those elected to stay vocal? I referto the ladies and gentlemen laughingly called the Opposition. Only one conclusion ispossible: they had supped from the same plate and shrewdly realised that in times presentand times future they will continue supping from the aforementioned plate. Therefore, itwas both prudent and safe for them to abdicate solemn responsibility.

Politicians are usually corrupted when they wield executive power, but our spineless,cowardly, self-serving representatives mouthing doomed-to-defeat indignation atdisinvestment preferred to dodge an issue which, besides having the potential of seriouslyembarrassing the government, was of vital national importance.

The tragedy of Indian democracy is not our present rulers (is there much to choosebetween the pmo we have now and the one we had under Rajiv?), the greater, much greater,tragedy is that we possess an Opposition led by Sonia Gandhi, Somnath Chatterjee andMulayam Singh Yadav. I wonder what sins the people of this country have committed todeserve them.

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