Pakistan beyond Musharraf II

Arun Shourie: Wednesday, November 14, 2007

Half of Pakistan’s territory is slipping out of the writ of Islamabad.

Pakistan has lost control over half its territory. In all probability it will regain that control at some time in the future. But the fact that half of the country’s territory is today outside the writ of the Pakistani state shows how far things have been allowed to fall.

Information that reaches India suggests that the troubles in Balochistan are much worse than what becomes public knowledge — a determined effort has been made to black out what is happening there. In the northwest, the Maliks and Khans were already losing out to the Taliban — the latter had begun replacing them even in governmental committees, a better way to route outlays to itself. Since then, these persons as well as the political mullahs through whom the area was being controlled have come to be viewed as instruments of the enemy. Hence, administration has crumbled. Two ‘accords’ and a third attempted ‘accord’ have come to nothing. Each ‘accord’ was seen as, and was in fact an acknowledgement that the Pakistani army was not able to contain the situation: in the Miramshah Accord, for instance, the most recent one to unravel, the tribals agreed not to attack Pakistani troops in return for the withdrawal of troops from the region. And in return for tribals being allowed to continue to bear arms, the government agreed to release 165 tribal militants and provide handsome ‘compensation’. Each ‘accord’ has been terminated at the will of the tribals and the army has been able to do nothing in the matter.

The sway of the Taliban has now spread to FATA. In this region, the three agencies most affected are south Waziristan, north Waziristan and Bajaur. But Talibanisation has started spreading from FATA to the adjacent ‘settled districts’ of NWFP. In places like Tank, Dera Ismail Khan, Swat, and so on, the Taliban roam the streets freely and enforce their ‘values’. Barber shops and video parlours have been shut down. Men are required to grow beards. Music is banned. Girls have been prohibited from attending school: ‘the card’ is a dread — a postcard is delivered at the house with the photograph of a severed head on one side, and, on the other, a simple note: ‘your daughter XYZ, goes to school ABC, located at...’ Parents have to take their child out of school or risk her life or swiftly dispatch her to some other town...

To confound matters, the only instrument through which the areas could be retrieved, the army, is showing signs of strain. It has suffered major casualties and embarrassing reverses. In a series of the most telling events, large numbers of soldiers have ‘surrendered’. In the first instance, close to 300 were reported to have been ‘kidnapped’. They were led by a colonel at the time. There were four officers among them. Not one casualty occurred. The whole lot just got ‘kidnapped’ or they surrendered. Since then, the sequence has been repeated at least twice — with two differences: the tribals called the media over to photograph the soldiers they had captured, and, after making them swear never to fight fellow Muslims again, released them.

By now, the problem is structural. That is, it is not just the mistake of a Musharraf. A quarter of Pakistan’s army consists of Pashtuns. Not just that, major operations are being carried out by the Frontier Corps. This consists of locally recruited Pashtun soldiers, officered by Punjabi army officers. On the other side, earlier, the fighting was largely being done by foreign militants — Chechens, Uzbeks, Arabs. They were being supported by the Taliban. Now it appears that entire tribes and sub-tribes are rising in revolt against the army. Pashtun soldiers are chary of fighting persons from their own tribe, and just as nervous of fighting Pashtuns from other sub-tribes or tribes, for they know that doing so could well trigger a cycle of revenge, a cycle that will last for generations. Nor would sending units of Punjabis help matters: quite the contrary, doing so would transform the hostilities into an ethnic conflict — Punjabis killing Pashtuns will stoke the flames even more vigorously.

But this development should not cause surprise, as my friend, Sushant Sareen, who follows developments in our neighbours almost by the hour, points out. The army is itself steeped in the culture of jihad, and so will naturally be reluctant to kill those who are, after all, sacrificing their lives in jihad. Even in 1971, the situation was not as grave from a soldier’s point of view as it is now: in that war, he, a Punjabi, was killing Bengalis. Today Pashtuns are being set to kill Pashtuns. Moreover, unlike the Bengalis in 1971, these groups fight back: they are well-armed; they are very well trained; their motivation is stronger than that of even the indoctrinated Pakistani soldier; they are masters of their terrain; they are not ‘primitives’. On the contrary, they are extremely sophisticated in their tactics and strategy.

Could there be more than just morale here? Could it be that because of its pervasive involvement in the economy and administration, because of the enormous collateral perquisites that are given to officers — from plots to control of ‘heavy’ enterprises — the army, in particular its officer class, has softened? The performance of the army in Kargil, in Balochistan and now in NWFP certainly suggests that this is possible. The main debility, however, is different: the army has been reared to kill and prevail over ‘imbecile kafirs’, and it must balk at killing fellow Muslims.

It is often suggested that after 9/11 and his decision to join the American war, Musharraf cleaned out the bearded generals. He may have shunted out some individuals. But the American war and joining it have certainly put the ‘moderates’ in the army on the defensive. The Islamists have been proven right. One minor indication of this was visible in the Lal Masjid incident. Here is a mosque not in the far away, wild tribal areas, but in Islamabad itself. The entire country is under army rule. The ISI as well as intelligence agencies of the army itself are in each nook and cranny of the country. How could such a vast armoury have been accumulated in the mosque and the adjacent madrassa without the complicity of elements inside these organisations?

So, we have, on the one hand, half the territory going out of the writ of Islamabad, and, on the other, the one instrument through which it would have to be wrested back, drooping.

To compound matters, the Taliban are a very different force from what they used to be. They have metamorphosed. Their modus operandi are now very different from what they were: as has been correctly noted, today, Pakistan is second only to Iraq in suicide attacks. Similarly, the Taliban used to hit and run. Now they engage in extended, fixed battles. More important, the aim of the Taliban now is not that of a local militant group. Nor, as Sushant Sareen writes, is their aim to undo Pakistan. Their aim is to take over Pakistan and Afghanistan, at least large parts of these. And from these areas as a base, to carry forward the jihad to convert lands farther and farther away that are today the dar ul harb into the dar ul Islam. Hence, there can be no doubt at all that, after consolidating their position in the trans-Indus regions, they will extend their ideology and operations into Punjab and Sindh. And recent attacks and explosions show that they already have the capacity to reach into the very heart of Pakistan. Incidentally, this has been a major strategic mistake of the West, one of many that is, to have shut its eyes to the fact that the Taliban was getting revived and transformed, and, instead, to have allowed itself to be diverted by the few ‘Al Qaida’ operatives that Pakistan has from time to time handed over.

There is an even more ominous transformation for Pakistan: the Islamic zeal of Taliban has got fused into Pashtun nationalism. Few of us realise that while there are 12 million Pashtuns in Afghanistan, there are 25 million in Pakistan. Historically, leadership has rested with the Afghan Pashtuns. But this is shifting to Pak-Pashtuns now — contrast the sway of warlords in FATA and NWFP with the shrunken, tenuous existence of Karzai: they roam freely, they dominate their areas while Karzai is confined to Kabul, and, even within Kabul, he is dependent on the Americans for even his personal safety. The Pashtuns have never accepted the Durand Line as a divide. Successive jihads — first against the Soviets and now against the Americans — have erased it on the ground. Even de jure, no Afghan government, not even the Taliban government that was the creature of Pakistani agencies, accepted it. In any case, the hundred years for which it was delineated are long gone. The Afghans have long demanded that the line should be further south, as far south in fact as Attock.

A potent mix: a Taliban fired by the zeal to establish Islam by fomenting the ‘Clash of Civilisations’ that others dread; Pashtun nationalism demanding a Pakhtunistan with territory from both Afghanistan and Pakistan; a quarter of Pakistan’s army and almost all of the Frontier Corps deployed in the region, Pashtun. And that is just one problem in one arena.

Today, even as the Pakistani army is sent out to combat them in FATA and NWFP, Pakistan continues to aid the Taliban in their forays into Afghanistan. And for the obvious reason: it is convinced — who would not be? — that the NATO forces, in particular the Americans will leave sooner rather than later; Pakistan would want its agents to take over Kabul and thus reacquire the ‘strategic depth’ vis a vis India, the acquiring of which a few years ago it had hailed as one of the greatest feats of its strategic planning. But Pakistan is not the only source from which the Taliban get aid. Information we receive suggests that, though they are fervent Sunnis, they are getting help even from Shia Iran. And for this too the reasons are obvious: for Iran today, any and every group that will hobble the US today is a confederate; second, while they are at it, Iran wants them to eliminate those of its dissidents who have taken shelter in southwestern Afghanistan. More than the aid they receive, the Taliban today have become self-financing: as has been pointed out in General Afsir Khan’s important journal Aakrosh, the Taliban are being much more nuanced about opium and heroin this time round. In their earlier reign, they had banned hashish, not heroin, as the former is what the locals were consuming. This time round they are allowing greater latitude in regard to both as they have realised that drugs provide income to farmers and thus relieve the Taliban of a responsibility, and at the same time, the produce are an unfailing source of revenue. Contrast this with the dilemma that hobbles American and NATO forces: they are not able to provide alternative sources either for employment or for income to the local population but if they stamp out opium cultivation, they alienate farmers; on the other hand, if they allow it to grow, they help finance the Taliban.

Thus, Pakistan is today feeding with one hand the Taliban it seeks to crush with the other; second, the Taliban receive aid and acquire resources from other quarters. But the main problem is different and goes deeper. With what legitimacy can the government in NWFP, FATA, Islamabad crush them? All that the Tehrik-e-Nifaz-e-Shariah-e-Mohammadi is demanding, after all, is that the shariah be enforced: with what face can parties that have come to power in the name of Islam in NWFP — the religious parties — crush them for this? Indeed, Pakistan having been proclaimed an Islamic state, shariah courts having been set up since Zia’s time, with what legitimacy can Islamabad move to crush the cleric who is enforcing the shariah in FATA? As it moves to kill them in any case, Musharraf’s army becomes an instrument of ‘the enemies of Islam’.

That problem goes beyond Musharraf and his army. It permeates every pore of Pakistan. Pakistan having declared itself to be an ‘Islamic state’, the ‘moderates’ on whom the West rests its hopes, as do the wishful in India, just cannot stand up to the mullahs: the latter have to merely keep reciting verses from the Quran and repeating hadis; they have merely to ask, as they do at every turn, “if the object was to establish Pakistan as a secular state, as a state indifferent to Islam, as one in which not the shariah but some alien law shall rule, what was the point of creating Pakistan, what was the point of partitioning India?” “How can preaching religion be terrorism?” they demand. Moreover, the ‘moderate’ politicians are themselves seen as nothing but, as has been correctly observed, ‘democrats of convenience’ — for each of them without exception has in the past turned to and been propped up by the army and ISI. Each has been as corrupt as the other. Each has turned to and struck deals with religious fundamentalists — and this includes not just Musharraf in whom our commentators discern so much secularism; it includes Nawaz Sharif and Benazir. The lawyers did not keep politicians away from their agitation without reason.

In a word, the Taliban are not the cause of the Talibanisation of Pakistani society. They are the result. The madrassas are not the only ones that indoctrinate their wards in extremism; as the excellent studies by the Pakistani historian K.K. Aziz in the early 1990s, and by Islamabad’s Sustainable Development Policy Institute more recently have shown, government schools indoctrinate students no less — from class 2 onwards — in the blessings and glory that accrue from jihad and shahadat.

It is obvious that Musharraf’s ‘emergency’ has had nothing whatsoever to do with the real problems that Pakistan faces. First, he has contributed as much to inflaming them as anyone. Second, if terrorism in the NWFP and FATA are the target, why remove the judges? Why throw human rights activists into jails? Third, look at what he and his ministers began saying the moment Bush and others called him: elections in February 2008, of course I will give up my uniform, ‘emergency’ will be ended within weeks — is it any one’s case that the tribals in NWFP and FATA will be brought to heel in a few weeks?

So, his ‘emergency’ has been just to save himself from the Supreme Court. But equally, for the kinds of reasons enumerated above, removing him is not going to solve the problems in which Pakistan finds itself today. Most certainly not for India.

For Pakistan is today a dictatorship in the grip of the army and ISI because of the neglect of institutions over sixty years. Pakistan is today a Talibanised society as the culmination of a choice it made sixty years ago — of being an Islamic state. Once the dust kicked up by Musharraf settles, whoever is in power in Islamabad will gravitate to the old, accustomed conclusion: there is only one way of coping with the jihadis — deflect them to India...

An Extreme Case is not an Exception

Arun Shourie

That an area as large as Bihar should sink into quicksand is alarming enough by itself. But one of our problems is that collapse in Bihar no longer shakes us: "O, that is Bihar," we shrug.

Bihar is an extreme case, yes. But the point about an extreme case is that it is but one end of a continuum. Bihar is far from being an exception. Even the most prosperous states today exhibit the same symptoms. Not just Bihar, but Punjab too is having difficulty paying just the salaries of government staff. Not just Bihar, but state after state -- Rajasthan is the example of the month -- has defaulted on the repayments it has to make to the Centre. In Assam�s case, all financial transactions had to be halted, and the treasury had to be closed last week, as the state had no funds to meet even the day�s liabilities. It isn�t just that almost all of plan expenditure of Bihar is now financed through central funds, that is so in the case of most states: Rakesh Mohan, the director of the NCAER, draws attention to a telling figure -- as recently as the Sixth Plan, balances from current revenues financed 40 per cent of state plans, in the Eighth Plan their contribution was zero, today it is a substantial negative. It isn�t just that state enterprises in Bihar are in a woeful condition, they are in more or less that condition across the country: another figure that Rakesh Mohan mentions -- state enterprises were projected to contribute Rs 4,000 crore to the financing of the Eighth Plan, their actual contribution was minus Rs 2,723 crore.

All sorts of devices have been contrived by the Centre and states to camouflage defaults by state governments, all sorts of devices have been fabricated by states to divert central funds meant for capital expenditure to pay wages and salaries. A senior functionary was educating me the other day to the mystery behind plan projects remaining incomplete for years and years on end in state after state. There is more than lethargy, he explained. Under our system of accounting, so long as the project is a continuing one, salaries and wages of the staff working on it can be paid out of plan funds; once it is completed, these have to be paid out of the state�s own funds. Unable to pay even salary and wage bills of its employees, state after state keeps that last mile of the road incomplete...

And finances themselves are but a symptom. Entire systems have fallen apart. A former deputy comptroller and auditor general, C.B. Kumar, points out that of the 992 state government companies, the accounts of 783 companies are in arrears -- up to 10 years. In the case of many of them, accounts have not been finalised for even one year since their inception.

And the finances of states, the evaporation of control and supervision mechanisms in state owned companies -- these too are but symptoms. The malaise extends far beyond states, far beyond governments. "Non-performing assets" -- a euphemism to cover up moneys which have been given, handed out on collateral considerations -- now exceed Rs 43,000 crore: that feat has been accomplished not by state governments but by our "commercial" banks. The companies that have vanished with over Rs 20,000 crore belonging to small depositors are not government companies, they are companies floated by private entrepreneurs. Similarly, while the securities scam showed up the degree of morality and vigilance in our banks and financial institutions, could it have remained undetected if a profession wholly outside the state structure -- chartered accountants -- had been doing its job?

In a word, unless we wake up, Bihar is not just an extreme case, it is the future. And the condition to which Pakistan has sunk is a live warning of what happens when such problems are neglected.

Everything else points to the same urgency. Time does not stop just because we are preoccupied with our problems: we talk of the "21st century;" it is five weeks away. The world does not stop because we are busy battling the next caste: technologies continue to replace each other every two-three years; per capita income in China is already double that of India, but with China growing at 10-11 per cent, and us stuck at 6 per cent, the gap between us and them doubles every 14 years -- and the per capita income is just an indicator: military capability, and much else is subsumed in it.

Nor do our problems abate because we are busy sorting out our politics. In the last three-and-a-half years when our politicians were busy bringing down and installing governments, our population increased by over five crore. Even in the six months between the ouster of the Vajpayee government and the installation of the present Vajpayee government, our numbers would have increased by over 70 lakh. We must, therefore, act, as the Buddha would say, "with the urgency of a man whose hair is on fire". The allied point is just as obvious: there is no discord on these issues. Indeed, I believe there is consensus on almost all the issues which are at all within the realm of the possible. When liberalisation was launched, how the critics lampooned it. But where they were in power, those very persons and their parties were taking pride in proceeding on that route even faster than the central government. Similarly, when the critics acquired office at the Centre, they continued those very policies.

That is a large part of the problem today: on almost every practicable matter there is consensus on what should be done, everyone also sees that those steps should be taken forthwith, but when one party takes them, the other shouts and screams, and puts obstacles. So that nothing is allowed to proceed -- except by fits and starts. The same danger lurks today. The economic decisions which will be taken now are ones that carry forward the same process which successive governments have been furthering for a decade. But because this government will be announcing those policies, others will stall them.

There is a conviction -- which all parties need to outgrow -- that because one is in Opposition, one�s job is to oppose, to choke whatever whoever is in government is trying to do. Precisely because it does not have a better idea on the matter, the party out of office feels compelled to contrive differences. Often, a completely unrelated issue is made the occasion for blocking everything. Notice the minatory statements which Congress leaders have been making about Rajiv�s name in the Bofors� chargesheet.

Assume for a moment that there is ground for a genuine difference of opinion on the matter -- I do not see any ground either in law or fact, but assume that there is. How does that difference on this particular matter justify throttling legislation on, say, economic reforms? Even countries deal with each other on some issues in spite of there being sharp differences on other issues. Indeed, many who will today be arguing -- within the Congress, say -- against cooperating with the government on any issue are ones who, when it comes to Pakistan, are most energetic in arguing that we must keep identifying areas on which we can engage it in joint action in spite of what it is doing in Kashmir, and the rest. But when it comes to cooperating with the government of their own country, even when it seeks to further policies they had themselves initiated, Congressmen will think it perfectly in order that they hold back till it interferes in the judicial process and has a document which is before the courts altered in the way they specify. As all parties are in office somewhere or the other in the country, and as all of them are therefore disabled by such conceptions of what the proper role for an Opposition is, all have cause to revise their conduct. The cure liable to be more effective is for people to be alert, notice who is stalling essential legislation or policies, and for what reason, and punish him accordingly.

Governments too would do well to change their ways. At least in five respects. All too often, they lose interest in a remedy the moment it has been enacted. Mr N. Vittal, the chief vigilance commissioner, gives a telling example. In 1988, Parliament passed the Benami Transactions (Prohibition) Act. It was acclaimed to be a decisive step in tackling corruption -- indeed, so urgent and vital were its provisions acclaimed to be that they were first introduced by way of an Ordinance. Clause 5 of the Act specified that a procedure would be prescribed for acquiring property under the Act. Eleven years have gone by, no procedure has been prescribed. Governments have forgotten all about the Act. And not just governments: the other day when I referred to the Act and its fate in the Rajya Sabha, it was evident that MPs too had not bothered to check up on what they had passed. The first point therefore is: follow through on what you get through Parliament, follow through on the schemes you launch.

The second lesson, equally elementary, is about existing institutions. Every government feels impelled to launch new schemes, to set up new institutions. But the need today is to energise existing institutions. It is good that the government will be introducing legislation to set up the Lok Pal: the bill has been in the works for 30 years, and this will be the seventh version of the bill. So, it is good that at last the law will be passed, and the institution will be set up. But just as important is to activate the Lok Ayuktas: in state after state, they have been rendered moribund. Why not call a conference of existing and past Lok Ayuktas, garner their proposals to make the institution functional, and create public opinion for those changes to be enacted? Similarly, I was astonished to learn the other day that the comptroller and auditor general has a staff of 20,000 persons. They produce over a hundred audit reports every year. These run into 15,000 to 20,000 pages. They are packed with details -- often, as we have seen in the case of Bihar, with details of the most alarming kind. But can any one recall a single consequence which has followed as a result of these prodigious labours? The cure would not be to set up yet another institution, but to get together with present and past CAGs and take steps which would make the work of this institution fruitful. The third lesson is about the new institutions we set up. Unable to improve existing institutions, we set up some new one. Unable to get existing courts to speed up, we set up special courts, unable to get states to act reasonably on sharing river waters we enact the inter-state river water disputes law. But the manner we provide for the new institution to function is exactly the manner which has paralysed the old institution. The procedural regulations that special courts must adhere by are exactly the same as the regulations which clog existing courts. The personnel who man the inter-state river dispute tribunals are just the same as the ones that man existing courts: they bring to their new task the same approach, the same fixation on legalisms, on the date of this notification as against that one which hobble our courts. For the new institution to be different, its personnel, the procedural rules that are to govern its functioning, its entire ethos have to be radically different.

Fourth, the solutions must be on an altogether different scale, they must be of an altogether different kind than the ones to which we naturally gravitate. The backlog in courts? As a great concession we agree to the setting up of a dozen courts. But the Chief Justice was mentioning the other day that the requests which are pending for additional courts already total over 4,500. Setting up a dozen more courts -- and that too after years and years of the files going up and down -- is as good as doing nothing. Similarly, to get the inter-state water disputes machinery out of the current rut, we need to man the tribunals with persons whose entire approach will be different: who will craft design solutions rather than pronounce awards that hinge on legalisms.

And when we do alight on a solution, as Montek Ahluwalia with his vast experience points out, we must not look upon it as set in stone. That is the fifth lesson. As new technology beckoned, a new telecom policy was announced in 1994. But technology changed so fast that a newer policy was required by 1998. The steps which have been taken under it have already had to be altered twice. But technology is continuing to evolve at a dizzying pace: the technology to transmit voice over Internet with distortion is almost at hand; you will soon be able, therefore, to talk to persons overseas at the cost of a local call; that will devastate the finances of existing long distance operators. And so we can be certain that an entirely new telecom policy will be required three-four years from now. If we hold up that new policy on the old supposition that the existing policy had been announced just a short while ago, or if allegation-mongering inhibits governments from attempting new formulations, we will be enlarging the gap between us and the rest of the world.

Hence: when you pass a law, when you set up an institution, look back and see how it is working; instead of setting up new institutions, where possible energize existing ones; when you set up new institutions, ensure that their personnel, their operating procedures, their entire thinking is new; think anew repeatedly, and each time at a speed which will, at the least, match the progress of technology.

The Asian Age
November 12 1999

An Extreme Case is not an Exception

Arun Shourie

That an area as large as Bihar should sink into quicksand is alarming enough by itself. But one of our problems is that collapse in Bihar no longer shakes us: "O, that is Bihar," we shrug.

Bihar is an extreme case, yes. But the point about an extreme case is that it is but one end of a continuum. Bihar is far from being an exception. Even the most prosperous states today exhibit the same symptoms. Not just Bihar, but Punjab too is having difficulty paying just the salaries of government staff. Not just Bihar, but state after state -- Rajasthan is the example of the month -- has defaulted on the repayments it has to make to the Centre. In Assam�s case, all financial transactions had to be halted, and the treasury had to be closed last week, as the state had no funds to meet even the day�s liabilities. It isn�t just that almost all of plan expenditure of Bihar is now financed through central funds, that is so in the case of most states: Rakesh Mohan, the director of the NCAER, draws attention to a telling figure -- as recently as the Sixth Plan, balances from current revenues financed 40 per cent of state plans, in the Eighth Plan their contribution was zero, today it is a substantial negative. It isn�t just that state enterprises in Bihar are in a woeful condition, they are in more or less that condition across the country: another figure that Rakesh Mohan mentions -- state enterprises were projected to contribute Rs 4,000 crore to the financing of the Eighth Plan, their actual contribution was minus Rs 2,723 crore.

All sorts of devices have been contrived by the Centre and states to camouflage defaults by state governments, all sorts of devices have been fabricated by states to divert central funds meant for capital expenditure to pay wages and salaries. A senior functionary was educating me the other day to the mystery behind plan projects remaining incomplete for years and years on end in state after state. There is more than lethargy, he explained. Under our system of accounting, so long as the project is a continuing one, salaries and wages of the staff working on it can be paid out of plan funds; once it is completed, these have to be paid out of the state�s own funds. Unable to pay even salary and wage bills of its employees, state after state keeps that last mile of the road incomplete...

And finances themselves are but a symptom. Entire systems have fallen apart. A former deputy comptroller and auditor general, C.B. Kumar, points out that of the 992 state government companies, the accounts of 783 companies are in arrears -- up to 10 years. In the case of many of them, accounts have not been finalised for even one year since their inception.

And the finances of states, the evaporation of control and supervision mechanisms in state owned companies -- these too are but symptoms. The malaise extends far beyond states, far beyond governments. "Non-performing assets" -- a euphemism to cover up moneys which have been given, handed out on collateral considerations -- now exceed Rs 43,000 crore: that feat has been accomplished not by state governments but by our "commercial" banks. The companies that have vanished with over Rs 20,000 crore belonging to small depositors are not government companies, they are companies floated by private entrepreneurs. Similarly, while the securities scam showed up the degree of morality and vigilance in our banks and financial institutions, could it have remained undetected if a profession wholly outside the state structure -- chartered accountants -- had been doing its job?

In a word, unless we wake up, Bihar is not just an extreme case, it is the future. And the condition to which Pakistan has sunk is a live warning of what happens when such problems are neglected.

Everything else points to the same urgency. Time does not stop just because we are preoccupied with our problems: we talk of the "21st century;" it is five weeks away. The world does not stop because we are busy battling the next caste: technologies continue to replace each other every two-three years; per capita income in China is already double that of India, but with China growing at 10-11 per cent, and us stuck at 6 per cent, the gap between us and them doubles every 14 years -- and the per capita income is just an indicator: military capability, and much else is subsumed in it.

Nor do our problems abate because we are busy sorting out our politics. In the last three-and-a-half years when our politicians were busy bringing down and installing governments, our population increased by over five crore. Even in the six months between the ouster of the Vajpayee government and the installation of the present Vajpayee government, our numbers would have increased by over 70 lakh. We must, therefore, act, as the Buddha would say, "with the urgency of a man whose hair is on fire". The allied point is just as obvious: there is no discord on these issues. Indeed, I believe there is consensus on almost all the issues which are at all within the realm of the possible. When liberalisation was launched, how the critics lampooned it. But where they were in power, those very persons and their parties were taking pride in proceeding on that route even faster than the central government. Similarly, when the critics acquired office at the Centre, they continued those very policies.

That is a large part of the problem today: on almost every practicable matter there is consensus on what should be done, everyone also sees that those steps should be taken forthwith, but when one party takes them, the other shouts and screams, and puts obstacles. So that nothing is allowed to proceed -- except by fits and starts. The same danger lurks today. The economic decisions which will be taken now are ones that carry forward the same process which successive governments have been furthering for a decade. But because this government will be announcing those policies, others will stall them.

There is a conviction -- which all parties need to outgrow -- that because one is in Opposition, one�s job is to oppose, to choke whatever whoever is in government is trying to do. Precisely because it does not have a better idea on the matter, the party out of office feels compelled to contrive differences. Often, a completely unrelated issue is made the occasion for blocking everything. Notice the minatory statements which Congress leaders have been making about Rajiv�s name in the Bofors� chargesheet.

Assume for a moment that there is ground for a genuine difference of opinion on the matter -- I do not see any ground either in law or fact, but assume that there is. How does that difference on this particular matter justify throttling legislation on, say, economic reforms? Even countries deal with each other on some issues in spite of there being sharp differences on other issues. Indeed, many who will today be arguing -- within the Congress, say -- against cooperating with the government on any issue are ones who, when it comes to Pakistan, are most energetic in arguing that we must keep identifying areas on which we can engage it in joint action in spite of what it is doing in Kashmir, and the rest. But when it comes to cooperating with the government of their own country, even when it seeks to further policies they had themselves initiated, Congressmen will think it perfectly in order that they hold back till it interferes in the judicial process and has a document which is before the courts altered in the way they specify. As all parties are in office somewhere or the other in the country, and as all of them are therefore disabled by such conceptions of what the proper role for an Opposition is, all have cause to revise their conduct. The cure liable to be more effective is for people to be alert, notice who is stalling essential legislation or policies, and for what reason, and punish him accordingly.

Governments too would do well to change their ways. At least in five respects. All too often, they lose interest in a remedy the moment it has been enacted. Mr N. Vittal, the chief vigilance commissioner, gives a telling example. In 1988, Parliament passed the Benami Transactions (Prohibition) Act. It was acclaimed to be a decisive step in tackling corruption -- indeed, so urgent and vital were its provisions acclaimed to be that they were first introduced by way of an Ordinance. Clause 5 of the Act specified that a procedure would be prescribed for acquiring property under the Act. Eleven years have gone by, no procedure has been prescribed. Governments have forgotten all about the Act. And not just governments: the other day when I referred to the Act and its fate in the Rajya Sabha, it was evident that MPs too had not bothered to check up on what they had passed. The first point therefore is: follow through on what you get through Parliament, follow through on the schemes you launch.

The second lesson, equally elementary, is about existing institutions. Every government feels impelled to launch new schemes, to set up new institutions. But the need today is to energise existing institutions. It is good that the government will be introducing legislation to set up the Lok Pal: the bill has been in the works for 30 years, and this will be the seventh version of the bill. So, it is good that at last the law will be passed, and the institution will be set up. But just as important is to activate the Lok Ayuktas: in state after state, they have been rendered moribund. Why not call a conference of existing and past Lok Ayuktas, garner their proposals to make the institution functional, and create public opinion for those changes to be enacted? Similarly, I was astonished to learn the other day that the comptroller and auditor general has a staff of 20,000 persons. They produce over a hundred audit reports every year. These run into 15,000 to 20,000 pages. They are packed with details -- often, as we have seen in the case of Bihar, with details of the most alarming kind. But can any one recall a single consequence which has followed as a result of these prodigious labours? The cure would not be to set up yet another institution, but to get together with present and past CAGs and take steps which would make the work of this institution fruitful. The third lesson is about the new institutions we set up. Unable to improve existing institutions, we set up some new one. Unable to get existing courts to speed up, we set up special courts, unable to get states to act reasonably on sharing river waters we enact the inter-state river water disputes law. But the manner we provide for the new institution to function is exactly the manner which has paralysed the old institution. The procedural regulations that special courts must adhere by are exactly the same as the regulations which clog existing courts. The personnel who man the inter-state river dispute tribunals are just the same as the ones that man existing courts: they bring to their new task the same approach, the same fixation on legalisms, on the date of this notification as against that one which hobble our courts. For the new institution to be different, its personnel, the procedural rules that are to govern its functioning, its entire ethos have to be radically different.

Fourth, the solutions must be on an altogether different scale, they must be of an altogether different kind than the ones to which we naturally gravitate. The backlog in courts? As a great concession we agree to the setting up of a dozen courts. But the Chief Justice was mentioning the other day that the requests which are pending for additional courts already total over 4,500. Setting up a dozen more courts -- and that too after years and years of the files going up and down -- is as good as doing nothing. Similarly, to get the inter-state water disputes machinery out of the current rut, we need to man the tribunals with persons whose entire approach will be different: who will craft design solutions rather than pronounce awards that hinge on legalisms.

And when we do alight on a solution, as Montek Ahluwalia with his vast experience points out, we must not look upon it as set in stone. That is the fifth lesson. As new technology beckoned, a new telecom policy was announced in 1994. But technology changed so fast that a newer policy was required by 1998. The steps which have been taken under it have already had to be altered twice. But technology is continuing to evolve at a dizzying pace: the technology to transmit voice over Internet with distortion is almost at hand; you will soon be able, therefore, to talk to persons overseas at the cost of a local call; that will devastate the finances of existing long distance operators. And so we can be certain that an entirely new telecom policy will be required three-four years from now. If we hold up that new policy on the old supposition that the existing policy had been announced just a short while ago, or if allegation-mongering inhibits governments from attempting new formulations, we will be enlarging the gap between us and the rest of the world.

Hence: when you pass a law, when you set up an institution, look back and see how it is working; instead of setting up new institutions, where possible energize existing ones; when you set up new institutions, ensure that their personnel, their operating procedures, their entire thinking is new; think anew repeatedly, and each time at a speed which will, at the least, match the progress of technology.

The Asian Age
November 12 1999

Fascism will be Inevitable if Aggression is Called Resurgence

Arun Shourie

'Dalits fight back,' 'Dalit resurgence,' 'Dalit politics will never be the same again,' 'Mumbai massacre a watershed' -- headlines, news stories, comments in the wake of the firing at the crowd in Mumbai. There was a little hiccup -- the leaders of the 'Dalits' whom these publications had been building up for years were thrashed by the 'Dalits' whose resurgence the same press was celebrating! But the prophets of resurgence soon regained their vigour.

That 'resurgence' which our press detected, the 'resurgence' it was celebrating, its prophecy -- 'things will never be the same again'. How do that 'resurgence' and prophecy look two months later?

There is a pattern to this. Two years ago the press was full of analyses, 'resurgence of OBCs.' There is no talk of that today -- Laloo Yadav having shown the uses to which that particular resurgence was put, the resurgent Yadavs and the like having shown in massacre after massacre what they will do to the other group, the 'Dalits', whose resurgence the press is hailing. Before that -- what with killings in Punjab, in Kashmir, in Assam and the North-East -- the press was full of analyses proclaiming the resurgence of 'sub-nationalism', the 'coming into their own' of 'sub-national groups'.

And before that the Muslims were the ones who were proclaimed to be resurgent -- the killings in the wake of the demolition of the Babri mosque, the rise of the Islamic Seva Sangh: 'Muslim politics will never be the same again,' the press declared, 'Muslim youth alienated, will turn militant.'

And before that Naxalbari was to light the prairie fire. And after that -- what with Charan Singh, Tikait, Devi Lal -- the 'peasants' were proclaimed to be resurgent. And then of course there were the original resurgents throughout - the 'workers'. No talk of any of those resurgences today -- the resurgence this time round is of the 'Dalits'.

Notice, they proclaim resurgence only in regard to groups which constitute parts, never the whole, indeed to qualify as resurgent the group must be denouncing the whole -- for instance, you wouldn't catch any of these analysts seeing in the destruction of the Babri mosque resurgence among Hindus -- that was vandalism, a return to barbarism!

But the terrorists -- so long as they were Sikhs as in Punjab, or Muslims as in Kashmir -- they represented the resurgent sub-nationalities. So, it isn't that our intellectuals detect resurgence anywhere and everywhere. The group must be repudiating the whole, then whatever it does is a manifestation of that resurgence, and, accordingly, by definition entirely in order.

The first point thus is fanciful theorising. The second is purposeful theorising. The third point, indeed a necessary adjunct to both those kinds of theorising, is to block out the reality of what is going on. In the resurgence of workers, the fact that the leaders were just traders in unions had to be overlooked.

In the resurgence of peasants, the all-too-manifest petty politicking of Charan Singh, of Devi Lal and the rest had to be shut from view. In the resurgence heralded by Naxalbari, the fact that the Naxalites were just murdering and extorting had to be buried.

In the resurgence of OBCs, the fact that these were the very ones who on Mandal's own telling, and of course as evidenced by scores and scores of massacres since -- were belabouring the Scheduled Castes had to be obscured, Laloo's loot had to be obfuscated. The latest resurgence has made similar demands. It wasn't clear at all -- two months after the incident it still is not clear -- who put those shoes around the statue in Ramabai Nagar: A rival faction of the Dalit leadership, said many; the Congress out to create a case for the dismissal of the state government, said as many; the Congress acting through the suddenly respectable don, Arun Gawli, said others: Each theory as plausible as the other.

But our press was interested in only those things which could be used to reinforce the bad name it has given to the Shiv Sena-BJP government. Not only was Arun Gawli suddenly respectable -- the new manifestation, like Haji Mastan earlier, of resurgence -- Chhagan Bhujbal -- till the other day 'the gauletier of Thackeray' -- became a hero-victim just as suddenly. That too required strong amnesia.

With the solitary exception of The Observer, not one publication cared to recall what this very man had done not long ago -- the 'Dalits' held a demonstration around the Martyrs Memorial at Flora Fountain in Mumbai; Bhujbal led his followers the following day, and had the Martyrs Memorial and the area around it washed, he had pujas done, he staged an elaborate Shuddhikaran ceremony at the site: The 'Dalits' have polluted the place, he ' declared, and he is having it cleansed with Gangajal.

The resurgents silence the propagandists: No talk of the resurgence of sub-national groups after Bhindranwale, after the Kashmir mercenaries; no talk of workers and peasants after Dutta Samant and the Communists; no talk of the OBCs 'coming into their own' after Laloo Yadav. I have little doubt that the Ambedkarites will, with comparable thoroughness, silence the ones who have read into the latest events the empowerment of yet another group.

Our intellectuals make out that, because the group has been wronged, it has the right to behave as it will, that it has a right to flout norms and rules: It is but natural, and therefore it is but right, their theories go, that the long-suppressed should have no patience with institutions, norms, rules and such fetishes; after all, the theories go, these rules and norms are devices by which the rest keep this group down.

When these two notions are compounded in the consciousness of a group -- the notion that it has been wronged, and that therefore it has the right to do as it will -- Fascism is the certain outcome: A Laloo Yadav acting above the law, his goons taking over the streets when a step is taken to bring him to book - that, if only our press gives up its blinkers, is the real Fascist force.

As are those acting in the name of 'Dalits' today -- the muscle they deploy, the amounts they exact, the brazenness with which they proclaim their exemption from every norm. No society can survive the abandonment of norms, of rules. On the other hand, at each step by reading resurgence into the latest aggressive group, these intellectuals are goading that very shredding of norms.

Soon enough the group which these theorists stoke suffers too. Along with the leaders, these intellectuals make it believe that it has a right to receive without working, that it has a right to grab -- for what the others have today is what belonged to it in the first place, that it is what they have grabbed.

In a word, the intellectuals rationalise aggression, and thereby foment it. This has immediate consequences. Work is no longer a duty, on the contrary the notion that we must work for what we want or need is proclaimed to be a device of the exploiters to keep the group in bondage. As the group becomes aggressive, other groups get pushed and thereby a strong reaction against that particular group develops.

That is what happened in regard to the Sikhs, it is what happened in regard to unionised labour, it is what has happened in the last five years against the Yadavs. What is being done in the name of 'Dalits' will ensure the same outcome against them.

When a group has been taught that it is right for it to be in a rage, rage becomes its second nature. Flying off the handle becomes a habit, even a fashion. And once a habit, it doesn't remain confined to exploding at outsiders: Members of the group -- and the leaders of the group really are the leaders in this regard -- explode just as ferociously at each other.

You would have noticed how such groups split, and go on splitting -- workers' and peasants' organisations, Naxalites, the OBCs, the uncounted factions of the Republican Party, every single group which has been worked up.

The leaders had started by exploiting the sense of insecurity in the group. Intellectuals started by fabricating 'reasons' for the group to feel suspicious of others, and to feel insecure. But the sequence compounds the insecurity. The reaction the aggressive behaviour of the group ignites gives genuine ground for feeling insecure -- that is obvious.

But I have observed a deeper, subterranean reason in addition. The entire chest-beating in the name of the group -- the chest-beating by intellectuals as much as that by the leaders -- comes to be based on gross exaggerations, indeed on wholesale falsehoods. This in turn becomes another reason for being even more aggressive -- the way these leaders and intellectuals descend to scotch the mere attempt at examining their assertions has been put in full view in the last decade.

That screamed-out righteousness, that worked up rage give the game away: They show that the leaders and intellectuals know that there is nothing to their assertions, that the moment examination begins, their shops will shut.

The group suffers -- but our intellectuals will not give up their practised trade any more than the leaders will. So intense is their need for these worked-up groups that, if one ground for stirring them falls through, they immediately latch on to another. Notice how every leftist denounced caste till the other day: 'class, not caste,' that was the war-cry. And today, every leftist is a casteist -- 'in India, caste is class,' that is the new analysis.

The need flows first of all from the high opinion these worthies have of themselves. They are convinced that their anointing is very important: It is vital strength for the group, they are certain. In their own eyes, and something they are even more keen about, in the eyes of others of their kind, shouting on behalf of the latest resurgent group is to declare oneself, it is to take a stand.

Then there is calculation: These intellectuals have convinced themselves for ever so long that shouting 'injustice,' 'exploitation' will get them a following in the target group: To see how potent this lure is you have just to read the internal Communist party documents of the late forties, documents in which the high-command explained that supporting the Muslim League's demand for Pakistan on the ground that Muslims would never get justice In a united India would attract Muslim middle class youth to the party.

But there isn't just calculation, there is compulsion, a psychological one: The very trade of these intellectuals is denunciation of India, of the whole as against the parts. When a group within the whole screams in anger, they feel vindicated: Hence, they ignite the group, 'it is right for you to rage,' they convince it; when it is enraged, they proclaim in triumph, 'see, this is an unjust society.' Even more compelling is the hunger of the impotent. These revolutionaries-by-proxy are a timorous lot, gnawed at by feelings of irrelevance and impotence. They search for the latest group that is stirring into aggressiveness. They gravitate to it. They goad it along. Then, shouting on its behalf, they convince each other they are a part of it, and thereby make-believe that they have power, that they count for something!

Society suffers as a consequence. The group suffers. But by then our friends are on to the next group. Jharkhand Tribals, next round?

The Observer
September 12, 1997