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Parallel
Raj Bhavan Activist
governors are the last thing India needs
Over
the past week, governors of states across the country convened in Delhi
for a meeting addressed by the President. This was the fourth such
conference called in recent years. Its purpose, motivation and achievement
-- like that of its predecessors -- remain a mystery. If the President's
inaugural observation that governors "act as a harmonising influence
and play a crucial role in upholding India's traditional ... tolerant
society" is yet another profound homily, it is fine. If it is an
indicator that governors should adopt a proactive posture, the recomme ndation is positively questionable. As per the Constitution, the
governor's is a titular, ceremonial post, a sinecure for a cashiered
politician or, relatively rarely, a just reward for distinguished public
service. In theory, he is the Centre's watchdog. In practice, in the long
decades of the Congress' monopoly politics, governors were the ruling
party's agents provocateur. Today, by and large, the residents of Raj
Bhavans confine themselves to cutting ribbons and swearing in chief
ministers. Any scope for mischief on that final count has been minimised
by the precedents that have been set in case of hung legislatures.
Reducing governors to near ciphers serves
to, however crudely, unclutter what is an anyway complex polity. The
suggestion that governors exercise a "moral influence" and have
a role to play in poverty alleviation and mobilising "grassroots
activism" is therefore somewhat strange. These duties fall under the
purview of the elected state government. To give governors parallel
responsibilities -- or even hint at these -- would be to undermine the
chief minister and create a constitutional conundrum the country could do
without. Principles can be best protected by principled men. India is well
within its rights to be wary of the exiled politicians who inhabit most of
its Raj Bhavans.
Rule by Third Degree
Bihar's 'social justice' ministers are
an insult to their office
Even by the standards of Bihar,
the savagery of Lalit Kumar Yadav, till recently the state's minister for
cooperatives, has been horrifying. As is now infamous, Yadav has been
accused of torturing a truck's driver and cleaner on suspicion of
wrongdoing. Since the two victims are Dalits, it would be easy to see the
incident as a manifestation of caste prejudice. On their part, pop
psychologists can have a field day analysing the behaviour of a minister
given to macabre impulses. Both conclusions, however, would be facile. The
issue goes beyond primordial loyalties and primitive minds. The issue is
Bihar; equally the issue is the quality of Indian democracy. Yadav's act
of presiding over a kangaroo court and dispensing his own version of
"justice" -- and rarely has the word been more abused --
represents the sheer and total collapse of the rule of law in a state that
is, frankly, a national embarrassment. If a state minister does not trust
the local police with bringing a petty crime to swift resolution, consider
the plight of the hapless citizen.
Such an overpowering sense of authority
is certainly not limited to one individual. Public life in Bihar -- and
perhaps in Uttar Pradesh as well -- has developed a taste for unwholesome
characters. The distinction between contractor, criminal and politician is
sometimes not apparent. Lalit Yadav, for instance, fits all three
descriptions. Like his peers, he is a master of the short cut -- whether
in harassing subordinates or, perhaps, rigging elections. This is the type
of person who hides a feudal mental make-up beneath the cloak of a popular
representative. The RJD, in fact, seems to be a magnet for such talent,
with half a dozen ministers, incumbent or former, facing criminal charges.
That must say something for the "Laloo revolution".
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