No Picture On The Stamp

Naysayers 2005

• Romila Thapar: Eminent historian and authority on ancient Indian history

   

• S.R. Shankaran: Ex-civil servant and now interlocutor between PW rebels and AP govt

   

• Kanaksen Deka: Eminent journalist and editor of Assamese daily Agradoot

   

• K.V. Subbanna: Temple architect, theatre doyen, Magsaysay winner

"I see nothing wrong in it. I would certainly not pursue an honour but I do think it is ungracious to turn it down." Mark Tully, Journalist

"When you accept, you do become a government favourite. But it needn’t make you an ardent follower." Khushwant Singh, Writer

"It’s silly to say that you can’t write anything against the government just because you accepted the award." Andre Beteille, Sociologist

"While most academics are employees of the state, within this structure the academic exercises his independence." Irfan Habib, Historian

"These awards encourage the old ways of courtiership since political patronage plays such a large role nowadays." K. Subrahmanyam, Defence Analyst

When Jawaharlal Nehru set in motion the national Padma awards in 1954, it didn't take long for the honours list to turn into an annual exercise in backbiting, high dudgeon and frantic lobbying. But with the Padma awards steadily turning, in former awardee Khushwant Singh's words, "into a skulduggery of recommendations and canvassing," many reputed professionals are hastening to put a healthy distance between the award and themselves. This year, for instance, four of the elite lot on the President's annual honours list—historian Romila Thapar, former civil servant S.R. Shankaran, journalist Kanaksen Deka and temple architect K.V. Subbanna—have turned down the award.

Says Romila Thapar: "I have a sense of unease about these awards. One of the problems is that over the years, there has been a slippage where state awards are being seen as government awards, in effect state patronage. The line dividing them may be thin but it has to be maintained. And if state awards are perceived by the people as government patronage, this has to be set right."

The historian is justified in holding this view, believes K. Subrahmanyam, defence strategist and ex-civil servant who was offered a Padma award in 1999 and turned it down in less than an hour. "Since political patronage plays such a large role in these awards," explains Subrahmanyam, "it encourages the old ways of courtiership. It's OK if it is given to artistes and sportsmen, but for others in public service it is totally unacceptable, leading to charges of nepotism and favouritism. It affects their credibility." Journalists and civil servants, especially, should be barred from the national awards, feels Subrahmanyam.

Are self-respecting professionals then, despite repeated assurances that their rejection of the honour is "no reflection on those who accept it", in fact raising the bar for others? Are those who accept the Padma awards ignoring their professional conscience pangs, as their colleagues' rejection seems to imply, and striking a compromise with the state? The answer by those who have accepted the award, both in the past and this year, is clear and loud: No.

"It's ridiculous to say that my professional independence is compromised if I accept the award," protests sociologist Andre Beteille, who will be given the Padma Bhushan this year. "I think it's silly to say that you can't write anything against the government just because you accepted the award.You have to be a person of low character if you feel you can't attack the government after receiving an award. It's not really political patronage, in the sense that a grant of money is. There have been first-rate academics like Keynes, for instance, or Leach, who accepted knighthoods and continued to be persons of great integrity".

Agrees the other historian who figures in this year's Padma list, Irfan Habib: "Since universities are funded by the state, most academics are employees of the state. This is a relationship which cannot be avoided. (But) within this structure, the academic exercises his independence."

No one, least of all those who accepted the award or intend to, disputes the fact that, as the renowned journalist, late Nikhil Chakravarthy, first pointed out in his letter rejecting the honour in 1990, "these awards..have sometimes been coloured by narrow party considerations". As Habib points out, "I think it's a fair assessment to say that there is subjectivity involved in the selection of people each government chooses to honour. It would also be fair to say that the present establishment has exercised its subjectivity in choosing people for the state awards." In short, as Khushwant says, there is no way around the fact that the awards for the most part are a form of political patronage."It's become a way of political parties to dispense rewards—if they can't get you anything else, they give you a Padma award."

But does that mean a professional is thereby selling his soul to his political patrons. Not a bit, insists Khushwant and the others. "When you accept the award," he says, "you do become a favourite of the government for some time. But it doesn't have to make you an ardent follower. The award is meant to be a national recognition and I was very pleased when I got it. It's another matter that I gave it up with equal alacrity when I disagreed with the government."

Nor is this something peculiar only to India, points out Habib, who admits "there are instances of people tailoring their beliefs to suit a certain establishment. I don't see, for instance, the media here running down people like Meghnad Desai. He earlier had Left leanings but after his knighthood, he talks about globalisation. Nobody has a problem with it."

But why tar everyone with the same motives? "I have never pulled any punches when reporting on India," says Mark Tully, on this year's honours list. "I see nothing wrong in accepting awards from the state. I would certainly not pursue an honour but I think it would be ungracious to turn it down."

Agrees ex-attorney-general and Padma awardee Soli Sorabjee: "I don't understand how accepting a national award curtails your independence. People like Justice Krishna Iyer accepted it but it did not stop him from attacking the government of the day. It all depends on the person. You can accept and still be critical."

Mammen Mathew, proprietor-editor of Kerala's leading newspaper group, Malayala Manorama, also sees "absolutely no harm" in accepting what is, after all, the only national award that is not given by professional guilds. Incidentally, Mammen's father, K.M. Mathew, turned down the honour when it was first offered to him by Indira Gandhi. His reason: he was too close to Indira to be able to accept it with a clear conscience. "But when he was offered it again by the Vajpayee government, he had no hesitation in accepting it. "I am not a Congressman, so why shouldn't I accept it?""

One reason, feel most awardees, that the national awards have lost their credibility is because of those who reject the award out of dudgeon: that some undeserving person has outranked them in the honours list. It's the reason why the awards should be scrapped, agrees Subrahmanyam. "How can the state distinguish between the music of Pandit Jasraj and Ravi Shankar, decide who gets the Bharat Ratna and who a Padma?" But that's taking the argument too far, according to Beteille. "This is the Indian obsession with rank and status which I despise. It's such a Hindu way of looking at it." Agrees Mathew: "I think it's rather cheap to refuse a Padma Shri only because someone else got a Padma Bhushan." Which is what the world suspects proprietor-editor of Assam's Dainik Agradoot, Kanaksen Deka, of doing when he turned down his Padma Shri. "I have been conferred so many prestigious awards both in the state and outside," Deka explains, "that if I accept the Padma Shri, people would think it's too much beneath me. It would hurt the sentiments of the people of Assam."

The fault, according to Deka, lies in the selection process: "Civil servants have no right to give awards to journalists." But, wonders Mathew, "How else are we to make the choice for national awards like this one? This is how it works in a democracy—politicians will decide, and they may sometimes be prejudiced but what's the other option?"

Professional guilds? "Certainly not," snaps former civil servant and ex-j&k governor G.C. Saxena. "How can my subordinates decide whether I am worth a national honour or not?" he asks.As for the recent trend of serving civil servants being barred from the honours list, Saxena points out: "Why should they be excluded? It acts as an incentive." The ex-governor says he himself has recommended at least three officers still in service for the honours.

Besides, as Beteille asks, what is the guarantee that professional institutions are less biased than the government? "There are no awards of this kind anywhere in the world where wrong selections are not made. No selection system is flawless. Even academic honours are not unbiased—academic distinction is never the only criterion for selection. When I accepted fellowship of the British Academy, for instance, I didn't ask if the other fellows were less distinguished than me, or why some got left out. So why should I ask those questions here."

The trouble is, as cartoonist and 2004 Padma Shri awardee Sudhir Tailang says, "We make a big deal of everything. Why can't we accept these awards for what they are—a national recognition. But you certainly get more publicity by rejecting an award than accepting it."

Beteille, on the other hand, thinks the questions that rejectionists like Thapar are raising, issues of what is the politically correct distance that an academic or any other professional in public affairs should maintain from the state, are valid. "But there are no certain answers. For me, writing a textbook for the government-owned ncert is a compromise whereas I had no hesitation in accepting a national honour." To each, in short, his own.