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In It
Together Parliament's two houses
must not cross that line between self-assertion and blind opposition.
When the BJP-led coalition took office
a year ago, it was pointed out that its minority in the Rajya Sabha could cause problems.
After the revocation of President's rule in Bihar, a better word to use would be
emasculation. The Rajya Sabha and Lok Sabha have roughly equal authority as regards
non-money -- that is, not concerning financial matters -- bills. Since the BJP has a mere
45 seats -- a good 19 short of the Congress -- in the 245-member Upper House, it is
suspicious of the Rajya Sabha. No wonder the Prasar Bharati Ordinance has not been brought
to the Rajya Sabha even after being ratified by the Lok Sabha. On the other hand, the
Opposition in the House of Elders -- somebody once called it "House of the
Angels" -- is obstructive to the hilt. The Bihar fiasco symbolises this. Yet, beyond
the smug satisfaction of scoring a point, the political class has to address itself to one
important question: what role does it see for the Rajya Sabha?
This is not just an academic issue. With the proliferation of
regional parties, it is now clear that neither the BJP nor the Congress -- the two
all-India entities -- are going to command anything close to Rajya Sabha majority in the
near future. Atal Bihari Vajpayee's predicament today could well be Sonia Gandhi's
headache tomorrow. The Constitution is quite clear on the powers of the Rajya Sabha in a
bicameral legislature: it is the second among equals. It can advise, object, debate and
legislate but never go against the popular sovereignty of which the Lok Sabha is the true
repository. The present tussle is not unprecedented. As far back as 1954, N.C. Chatterjee
-- the redoubtable Somnath's father -- caused a furore by standing up in the Lok Sabha and
apparently accusing the Rajya Sabha of "behaving irresponsibly, like a pack of
urchins". The Rajya Sabha was directly pitted against republican will when, in 1970,
it rejected the abolition of privy purses. Those were dark chapters in India's
parliamentary record. Let them not recur.
Phoney Arguments
The Government has no business telling TRAI how to do
its job.
There is something about the word
autonomous that no government seems to like and fewer seem to understand. How else would
one explain the decision of the Atal Bihari Vajpayee ministry this past week to withhold
the tariff order of the Telecom Regulatory Authority of India (TRAI)? The tariff order was
prepared after two years of open and intense debate on the pricing of telecommunication
services. This process accommodated the concerns of all three affected parties --
consumers, telecom companies and the Government. The very basis of holding back the order
-- that it is anti-poor -- is flawed. First, tariffs prescribed by TRAI are not binding,
implying that service providers -- mainly government controlled -- do not have to raise or
reduce all rates as recommended. Second, many changes suggested by TRAI are distinctly
pro-poor. An example is the provision to regard calls made up to a distance of 50 km as
local calls and charge them as such. This will benefit rural consumers most since they
predominantly make calls to villages in the vicinity. But selling the good deeds has never
been this Government's strong point.
Merits apart, by putting the tariff order in abeyance the
Government has infringed upon the autonomy it granted TRAI through an Act of Parliament in
January 1996. For autonomy to hold true in spirit as well as in letter, TRAI has to be
independent and transparent. In passing the order, TRAI has fulfilled both criteria.
Having put a regulator in place, the Government should trust its judgement and allow the
experts to govern the market. To rescind this freedom at will (or whim) is to return to
the bad days of untrammelled statism. That larger point apart, the immediate fallout of
scuttling TRAI's autonomy could be a shaken investor confidence. That's a prescription for
trouble in a recession-hit economy. |