Straining at Central leash

In the past few months, West Bengal chief minister Mamata Banerjee has emerged as the juju woman of Indian politics. When, after a spell of opposition from within, she finally walked out of the UPA-2 government last month, there was both a sense of relief and anxiety. There was relief because her exit gave Prime Minister Manmohan Singh a political space to push through overdue reforms in the economy. At the same time, optimism was laced with the fear that a resurgent Mamata, unflinchingly committed to populist politics, would now give an impetus to revanchist tendencies that may come into play if the next general election produces a hung Lok Sabha.

The looming threat of political chaos is giving sleepless nights to all those who have a stake in India's future. It is one thing for the Centre to alternate between a Congress-led UPA and a BJP-led NDA, but what would happen if there is a government comprising six or more regional parties incapable of distinguishing the national from the local? Will it signal the end of the India story?

Present trends indicate that both the Congress and the BJP, the two poles of politics, are undergoing a geographical shrinkage. Opinion polls indicate that the two parties between them will barely occupy half the Lok Sabha seats. This implies that the strategic hold of the regional parties will be greater than ever before. Of course things may change in the coming months. But assuming today's snapshot of a precarious future becomes tomorrow's reality, is there any ray of hope? Must political fragmentation involve administrative disarray?

Paradoxically, interactions with chief ministers and regional leaders indicate that there is an unexpected convergence of thought on the parameters of governance. On the face of it, there is nothing to bind Bihar's Nitish Kumar and Gujarat's Narendra Modi. Yet, a closer look at the Bihar chief minister's adhikar yatra seeking a special status for Bihar and Modi's repeated declamations against a "Delhi Sultanate" which is dismissive of Gujarati aspirations suggest a common link: exasperation with the present role of the Centre.

The dissatisfaction runs deep. The states of eastern India rue the systematic manner in which their locational advantages were negated by the steel and freight equalisation scheme which ran till 1991. Jharkhand and Orissa complain that the stupendous gains from the global minerals boom have not accrued to the states. Orissa is miffed that a partisan Centre has either delayed or derailed important steel and bauxite projects in backward areas. And many states feel that centrally-funded measures such as the rural employment guarantee scheme was designed by people who don't realise that one size just cannot fit all India.

If the poorer states are unhappy, the states which are driving India's GDP growth are equally resentful. Gujarat, Tamil Nadu and even Goa rue the fact that very little of what they contribute to the national exchequer is ploughed back into their states. Gujarat resented the whimsical ban on cotton exports by the Centre. Goa, which has contributed so much to tourism, is miffed over having to do with a thoroughly inadequate airport. And Mumbai keeps wondering what happened to the PM's "second Shanghai" promise.

For the states, there are two concerns. First, there is mounting anger over the arbitrariness of centrally-funded schemes. Development projects, they feel, should be determined, designed and executed at the state level. Above all, they seek an end to the politically-inspired, discretionary use of national resources. Secondly, the states want the proportion of revenues disbursed by the Finance Commission (which are non-discretionary ) to be considerably enlarged, if necessary by whittling down the Planning Commission's role. In short, the states are pressing for a drastic revision of the federal relationship.

Undertaking the shift from a centralised system to a more federal system necessitates action at the Centre. There is a wide-open political space for different parties (even those which are politically antagonistic) to agree to a common minimum programme of federal restructuring that will bind any formation that assumes charge after the next poll. If the Centre proves fragile, it would be prudent to put the onus of progress on the states by giving them a greater stake.

Sunday Times of India, September 7, 2012

TO UNTIE THE STRINGS - The debate on federalism is now focused on fiscal powers

By Swapan Dasgupta

Liberal and ‘progressive’ opinion has been inclined to view the question of states’ rights with both suspicion and distaste. To a very large extent this wariness has originated from the themes that divided the Union and the Confederacy in the American Civil War some 150 years ago. In the popular imagination, states’ rights is seen as a platform of bigotry and associated with either slave owners or politicians such as Strom Thurmond and George Wallace who did their utmost to prevent the passage of Civil Rights legislation. By implication, the opposition to excessive autonomy for states of Union have become associated with forces intent on top-down social engineering to rectify local wrongs. Over time, the issue of states’ rights have also influenced the recurring disputes between big government and small government—an issue that has resonated in the grassroots activism of the Tea Party.

That India and the US have different experiences with Constitution making is not in doubt. The US initially came into being as a consequence of individual states joining the Union in a voluntary federation. The Republic of India, despite being a nominal ‘Union of States’, evolved as the successor regime of British India (minus the parts that made up Pakistan). To this was added the many hundred Princely States whose rulers signed the Instrument of Accession and were effortlessly subsumed into the new Republic. With the states being regarded as mere administrative units, there was a basis to B.R. Ambedkar’s assertion in the Constituent Assembly that the Constitution did not acknowledge any right of secession. If the Union had created the states, how could the states see themselves as founder members with a right to withdraw?

The Constitutional denial of secession is worth reiterating if only to set at rest the uninformed fear that the recent political battles over federalism in India are a precursor to the weakening and eventual disintegration of the Indian Union. Admittedly this was a lurking fear in the first two decades after Independence but following the creation of a national market, the rise in inter-state mobility and the unifying effects of the media, Bollywood and cricket, the fear of India coming apart has virtually become a non-issue. It would be preposterous to suggest that those in the forefront of the demand to review Centre-state relations harbour separatist ambitions. Indeed, it is noteworthy that the recent political strains between the non-Congress-ruled states and the Centre have not been accompanied by sectarian strains involving locals and outsiders.

The movement for more equitable federal relations has undergone a profound change since the last years of Indira Gandhi’s Government. In those days, much of the controversy centred on the powers of the Governor and the partisan use of Article 356 to dismiss state governments. It was primarily these political concerns that led to the appointment of the Sarkaria Commission to review the whole gamut of Centre-state relations.

The Sarkaria report and the Supreme Court judgment in the S.R. Bommai case succeeded in substantially preventing the misuse of the Centre’s discretionary powers. While many states continue to be unhappy with the Centre’s de-facto veto over state legislation—witness the fury of Gujarat over the Centre’s persistent refusal to approve its anti-terror bill—it would be fair to say that the debate has shifted to the more pressing issue of fiscal powers.

What has triggered this move is India’s economic growth. The rapid growth of the country’s Gross Domestic Product since the process of liberalisation began in 1991. In recent years, the gross tax revenues of the country as a whole have increased exponentially. In 1960-61, it amounted to 7.8 per cent of GDP, and rose to 15.5 per cent in 1990-91 and 18.6 per cent in 2008-09. In the corresponding period, the tax revenues of the states was 2.6 per cent of GDP in 1960-61, 5.3 per cent in 1990-91 and 6.3 per cent in 2008-09. In short, while the exchequers of the states have swelled, their growth has not been commensurate with the phenomenal expansion in the tax revenues of the Centre. By 2010-11, the total receipts of the Centre amounted to 16 per cent of the GDP. The Centre has been the principal beneficiary of India’s growing prosperity.

The associated outcome of the burgeoning of the Centre’s kitty has been the United Progressive Alliance’s endorsement of mega-welfarism. Under Indira Gandhi and Rajiv Gandhi the Centre did experiment with modest anti-poverty projects. On its part, the National Democratic Alliance threw its weight behind schemes to upgrade India’s creaking infrastructure. The Manmohan Singh Government, backed by the political clout of Congress President Sonia Gandhi, has shed modesty and embraced projects on a scale never witnessed before. The Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee scheme covers the whole country and the proposed Food Security Bill is aimed at providing subsidised foodgrain to every family reckoned to be below the poverty line. In addition, the annual Plan outlay rose to Rs 5,92,457 crore in the Budget of 2011-12. Of this Plan expenditure, nearly one-third was meant for social services and rural development.

The Cabinet Mission proposal that the Centre should confine itself to defence, public finance, foreign policy and communications was never accepted by the Congress. However, today’s enlarged Centre is increasingly viewing itself as the only motor of state intervention, including involvement in spheres that are the preserves of the state governments. The Constitution-makers had envisaged that a redistributive Centre should aid the states through a revenue sharing process determined by the Finance Commission. Today, however, more than 60 per cent of the disbursement is being done through the Planning Commission, a body that was created outside the Constitution in 1950.

The growing powers of the Planning Commission have meant that expenditure by the states comes with strings attached and is in line with the priorities of the Centre. The MNREG scheme, for example, is thought to be superfluous by the state governments in Punjab, Gujarat and Tamil Nadu. Yet, they are obliged to participate in it. Successful food security schemes are already operational in Chhattisgarh and Orissa. Now both these states are confronted with the possibility of local initiatives being supplanted by a Central scheme based on the one-size-fits-all principle.

The move towards homogeneity is fuelling resentment in the states. India is a diverse country with vastly different levels of development. By attempting to mould development according to an architecture drawn up in Delhi, the Centre is creating distortions and fuelling waste and inefficiency. It is not that the states don’t want additional resources: they are seeking local controls over the pattern of expenditure.

Politically, the idea of a Federal Front has got a fillip with the steady decline of the two national parties. However, the opposition to an over-intrusive Centre is yet to be crystallised around definite demands. In the coming days this is bound to be rectified. It is possible to envisage a situation where the forthcoming debate on federalism is likely to be along two broad lines.

First, there is likely to be a demand for the primacy of the Finance Commission in the matter of resource allocation. By implication this will entail a considerable dilution in the powers of the Planning Commission and the emergence of empowered state planning bodies. Secondly, the distribution of powers between the Centre and states will sooner or later have to be renegotiated keeping in mind the growing importance of market forces.

The general election of 2014 could be the trigger for a shift of the political centre of gravity.


The Telegraph, April 27, 2012

United States of India doesn't need an Imperial Centre

By Swapan Dasgupta

The conference of Chief Ministers last Monday to discuss internal security was marked by a spectacular degree of discord between the Centre and the states. An explanation for this trust deficit may indeed lie in partisan politics. However, when formidable state leaders charge New Delhi of viewing the provinces as mere municipalities and question the rationale of the Centre’s intrusiveness in subjects ranging from internal security to environment and anti-poverty schemes, there are grounds to probe the likelihood of an emerging Constitutional breakdown. Has the “cooperative federalism” the Founding Fathers crafted in 1950 passed its sell-by date?

The question is neither heretical nor insolent. Political documents—and the Indian Constitution is a political document—are rooted in a context. In 1947, the members of the Constituent Assembly addressed their mission with multiple dreams but total clarity on two counts.

First, they were deeply suspicious of any federal scheme that advocated a minimal Centre and strong states. This wariness stemmed almost entirely from the Congress experience with the Pakistan movement and the stand taken by the Chamber of Princes in the debates on the federation that was supposed to take the 1935 Constitution to its logical conclusion. With Mohammed Ali Jinnah and the Princes out of the way, Jawaharlal Nehru’s Government imagined that state’s rights were no longer a paramount issue. A strong, paramount Centre was the consensus of the political class in 1947.

Secondly, flowing from its earnest commitment to the unity and integrity of the new India, the Constituent Assembly was equally in love with centralised planning. This wasn’t exclusively an infatuation with the Soviet Union. Many Congress leaders were sold on President Roosevelt’s New Deal in the US and the welfarist impulses of the Labour Party in Britain. They sought to replicate some of the achievements on both sides of the Atlantic in India.

In his seminal work on the making of the Indian Constitution, Granville Austin has documented the remarkable extent to which members of Nehru’s Cabinet were anxious to place all crucial subjects on the Central list. Jagjivan Ram wanted labour legislation to be dictated from Delhi; Rajkumari Amrit Kaur imagined that public health was too important a subject to be left to provincial politicians; and Maulana Abul Kalam Azad was of the view that education should be a Central subject so that the “intelligentsia of the country will be thinking on similar lines.”

The centralising impulses of the Nehruvian Congress finally coalesced in the establishment of the Planning Commission in March 1950. Although this body wasn’t mentioned in the Constitution, it soon evolved into what Sardar Patel feared would be a “superbody”, dictating the terms of national development to the states. Apart from viewing states as subordinate bodies to the Centre, the Planning Commission was premised on the belief that a few well-meaning and politically driven experts could draw a blueprint for the whole nation.

Austin described Indian planning as ‘intellectual centralisation”. In hindsight he was guilty of understatement. Over the years, the Planning Commission has overshadowed the Constitutionally-approved Finance Commission and the National Development Council. It has repudiated diversity, marginalised entrepreneurship and become an instrument of political control. The sight of popularly elected Chief Ministers lining up before the Deputy Chairman of the Commission to get their state plans approved is profoundly humiliating and calculated to make states appear like beggars. The we-give-the-money syndrome has, indeed, become a hallmark of the Gandhi family’s speeches.   

There was a time when the same political party ran the governments at the Centre and the states. The Constitution-makers and the Nehruvian consensus never imagined a situation when this would not be so. Nor could they envisage a future when the intellectual fashions of the 1950s and 1960s would be junked and even placed among history’s bad ideas. The over-centralised features of the Constitution reflected their belief in their own infallibility.

It is time these fundamentals were questioned by a new breed of Indians who combine Indian-ness with an equally fierce pride in the vernaculars. A Constitution is not a holy book. As India becomes more self-confident and federal at the same time, it may be time to review the sanctity it has accorded to an Imperial Centre.


Sunday Times of India, April 22, 2012 

The centre cannot hold

By Swapan Dasgupta

It is easy for historians, writing with the benefit of hindsight, to identify the roots of developments that subsequently evolve into a ‘crisis’. For contemporaries, however, long-term trends are more difficult to detect, and in the Made in Media age the inclination to equate individual trees for the wood is often irresistible.

In 2004, prior to a general election it imagined was already won, the BJP projected itself as the “natural party of government” and targeted 300 Lok Sabha seats. Today, after a long bout of incoherence stemming from unending factional battles, it faces the ignominy of being dubbed the Big Joke Party by a reputable international publication.

In 2009, the Congress emerged from an election few expected would yield a clear outcome, with a tally of 206 seats. The 2009 verdict convinced the party leadership it was on a comeback trail—one that would fulfil its grand dream of governing India with a clear majority of its own. Today, after a series of humiliating election defeats, it is shell shocked and blundering from one crisis to another.

For the commentariat, the two parallel developments signal the ‘crisis’ of the national parties, with no clear indication of what is to come in its place. For the parties, however, dejection hasn’t triggered soul searching. The Congress still believes that with Rahul Gandhi as its mascot, a bagful of mega welfare schemes and the magic of secularism, it will somehow crawl back to power again. After all, assert Congress loyalists cockily, the nation is always bigger than the sum of all its states.

An equally smug BJP believes that a generously-funded campaign centred on anti-incumbency will allow the NDA to be in a position to attract post-poll allies and cross the hump. The saffron generals aren’t needlessly bothered by their lack of a big idea, their inability to attract new talent, their wariness of their star leader from Gujarat and the sleaze factor within. In a two horse race, they believe, their pony will outpace the injured Congress stallion.

It is possible that either of these scenarios will play out in the summer of 2012 or even earlier. But that doesn’t negate the fact that both pan-Indian parties are in deep crisis for reasons they have not been able to yet comprehend.

Since the Crown replaced the Company in 1858, India has been taught to believe that a strong Centre is a precondition to peace and prosperity. A firm but benign dispensation in Delhi has been projected as the maa-baap sarkar. Earlier, this system of paternalism offered peremptory justice, famine relief and protection from thugees and marauders. Today, blessed with bewildering acronyms, it also promises 100 days of work, subsidised foodgrain and other ‘entitlements’. On the face of it, Incredible India has remained Timeless India—interspersed with Bollywood, cricket and mobile phones. Or at least that’s the caricature the babalogs fondly believe as they navigate their SUVs into their constituencies.  The rule is simple: smart casual in Delhi and meeting ka kapda—as a venerable Bengali barrister politician called it—in the boon docks.

But amid the timelessness, something else is also happenings. In just two decades, India has witnessed more encapsulated growth (albeit uneven) than the past century taken together. Prosperity, education, information, mobility and rising expectations have changed the Indian mentality profoundly. There is an air of impatience which has translated into a greater concern for the quality of life, not in abstraction, but in their localities. A strengthened democracy is witnessing a relative disinterest in the nation and a greater identification with the regions. Patriotism hasn’t eroded, but among the rising elites and local notables there is unconcern and indifference to Delhi.

This is what happened in the US, as prosperity strengthened localism. The phenomenon is being replicated in India. What is a ‘crisis’ today is waiting to become an opportunity.

There is a constituency anxious to express its exasperation with the remote control of the metropolitan elite. With their high commands and controlled leadership structures, the national parties are living in a make-believe Beltway. They have a choice: to either reshape themselves into loose coalitions of state interests or live out their unitarian fantasies in irrelevance.


Sunday Times of India, April 8, 2012 

CALLING THE SHOTS - Government formation may soon depend on regional parties

Swapan Dasgupta Plan ahead The decision of the West Bengal chief minister, Mamata Banerjee, to skip the swearing-in ceremony of Prakash Singh Badal in Chandigarh may remain the subject of feverish speculation, but there is little doubt that it has been greeted with a sense of intense relief by the political managers of a beleaguered Congress at the Centre. The relief may, however, prove to be short-lived if the Union budget fails to live up to Didi’s exacting expectations of a fiscal bonanza for West Bengal. For the past six months or so, ever since the magnitude of West Bengal’s near-bankruptcy has hit home, Mamata has lost little opportunity to needle the Centre at every available opportunity. From puncturing the prime minister’s diplomatic mission to Bangladesh to teaming up with other regional parties and the Bharatiya Janata Party to derail the National Counter Terrorism Centre, Mamata has made it abundantly clear that New Delhi will have to pay a price for her political support in a fractured polity. More to the point, she has also clearly indicated that she is not without political options she can choose to exercise if the situation so warrants. There is a temptation, particularly in the political establishment of the capital, to view Mamata as an unguided missile and a leader unable to make the transition from agitational politics to governance. As with most things about the chief minister, this has as much to do with her feisty style of articulation and her shrillness as with the substance of her interventions. Compared to J. Jayalalithaa of Tamil Nadu whose steely utterances are always very carefully measured or with Naveen Patnaik, who falls back on aloofness and understatements, Mamata is a law unto herself. Yet, the dislike for Mamata’s inimitable style does not take away from the fact that among the political class at least, she is no longer being viewed as an excitable Bengali aberration. More and more, Mamata’s political positioning is being linked to wider developments in the polity. In particular, her interventions in the affairs of the nation are being linked to a larger restlessness of the states on the issue of federalism. Needless to say, the Congress at the Centre, and even a section of the BJP, is inclined to miss the wood for the trees. Ever since the United Progressive Alliance government assumed power in 2004, there has been a steady encroachment of the Centre in areas which should, ideally, have been left to the states. Mega-welfare schemes such as the Mahatma Gandhi national rural employment guarantee scheme may have been well-intentioned and designed by professional do-gooders genuinely concerned with the eradication of poverty. However, the one-size-fits-all assumptions of schemes have left state governments fuming and, at the same time, helpless. During a brief visit to Odisha earlier this month, I was told by senior members of the state administration that the MNREGS has contributed to panchayats surreptitiously doctoring the books to compensate for the Rs 10 lakh grant for discretionary good works that was previously given to them, and which have been taken away by Sonia Gandhi’s pet scheme. It was also indicated that environmental clearances are increasingly being used by the Centre to settle political scores with governments ruled by non-UPA parties. Despite the large amounts of money the Centre was supposedly channelling to the states, the perspective from Bhubaneswar was that this was eerily reminiscent of the tied aid that marked American benevolence to the third world. The United States of America was often unable to comprehend why the image of Uncle Sam was negative despite the large amounts of aid poured into poor countries. In a similar vein, the likes of Rahul Gandhi have found it difficult to understand the logic of the so-called benefactors not being able to reap a political harvest. A key talking point of the Congress general-secretary during his energetic but politically unrewarding campaign tour of Uttar Pradesh was the large sum of monies “we” sent from Delhi but which the wicked “haathi” ate up. The corruption charges against Mayavati may have stuck and contributed to her eventual defeat, but the heir-apparent of the Nehru-Gandhi dynasty was unable to gauge that the variety of paternalism he and his mother champion no longer has the same emotional impact as when Indira Gandhi promised to banish poverty. It is this fundamental incomprehension of a changed mood that has contributed to the heightening of federal impulses. The problem isn’t something confined to the Gandhis or those who contrast the “national outlook” of the first family with the “regional” orientation of everyone from Akhilesh Yadav to Naveen Patnaik. The manner in which cotton exports were peremptorily banned by the Union commerce ministry without even a hint of consultation with the cotton-growing states of Maharashtra, Gujarat and Punjab indicates the astonishing arrogance of even those technocrats who presume to act on behalf of the ‘nation’. The BJP on its part has imbibed many of these centralist assumptions to the point where its supporters on the ground speak contemptuously of a Delhi-based coterie that has no idea of ground realities. The imperious manner in which B.C. Khanduri was removed as chief minister of Uttarakhand in 2009, and Vasundhara Raje as leader of Opposition in Rajasthan, spoke eloquently of the high-command culture of the Congress finding its way into the BJP. Incidentally, both leaders had to be reinstated — Khanduri to extricate the party from the mess created by his Delhi-appointed successor, Ramesh Pokhriyal, and Vasundhara Raje because the proposed successors had no support among either the legislators or the voters. Today, a cold war exists between Narendra Modi and the party’s national leadership, triggered by the latter’s disregard of the concerns of the chief minister. The writ of the BJP central office in Delhi does not run in Gujarat. For all practical purposes, Modi is at the helm of a regional party. What is particularly surprising is the fact that the opportunities presented by the concerns over the federal structure have completely bypassed many in the BJP. Despite the indifferent performance in UP, the party is acting on the smug assumption that any future government at the Centre must factor in the “alternative pole” of politics. This may well happen if both the national parties are able to secure an incremental ‘national’ vote in the 2014 parliamentary election. But in the event that the dissonance between the assembly and Lok Sabha polls is slender, India may be confronted by a unique situation of the regional parties calling the shots in any future government formation. The BJP cannot take its natural advantage from any anti-incumbency vote against the Congress for granted. The possibility of a post-poll gang-up of all regional parties (including those nominally attached to the UPA and the National Democratic Alliance) dictating the terms of politics to the national parties can no longer be discounted as fanciful. A major shift is taking place in politics: a decisive mood shift in favour of a more equitable federal arrangement. However, rather than wait for the change to happen automatically, it is incumbent on the regional parties to plan ahead for a programme that involves constitutional amendments for an institutional shift of powers in favour of the states. In 1950, the ‘unity and integrity’ of India was the principal preoccupation of the Constitution-makers. Today, the oneness of India has been firmly entrenched in the popular imagination. The time for a radical devolution of powers — both political and economic — to the states may well present itself after the 2014 election. The Telegraph, March 16, 2012

Regional bosses rising

By Swapan Dasgupta


In 1963, a year after the disastrous India-China border conflict and shortly after the all-powerful Congress suffered major reverses in parliamentary bypolls, five leaders met secretly in the dead of night at the temple town of Tirupati. The men who assembled were powerful regional bosses of the Congress: S Nijalingappa, N Sanjiva Reddy, K Kamaraj, Atulya Ghosh and Srinivas Mallayya. Those unable to attend included C B Gupta, S K Patil and Biju Patnaik. The meeting was short for there was only a one-point agenda: to decide on a successor to the ailing Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru. 

In May 1964 when Nehru passed away, the regional bosses were ready. There was no real succession battle as the Syndicate - as the regional grouping came to be known - quietly manoeuvred the election of the man they had selected at Tirupati the year before: Lal Bahadur Shastri. 

Nearly five decades after that fateful Tirupati meet, there is growing speculation that 2014 will once again witness the states asserting their hold over the Centre. In 1964, regional interests had been accommodated under the protective cover of an old-style Managing Agency. By comparison, today's Congress is akin to a family enterprise with branch offices that give the impression of having seen better days. Regional interests and aspirations that were once a feature of a rambling national movement have moved on and found homes in regional parties that now control state governments. Apart from the northeast, the Congress has lost its domi-nant status in the rest of India, including in states where it nominally controls a government. 

At the turn of the century, it seemed that the BJP would step into a void created by the Cong-ress. However, its progression into a truly national party has turned out to be illusory. Hindusolidarity has proved an ephemeral binding force for disparate castes and communities. Notwithstanding its expansion into Karnataka, the BJP has also failed to transcend the High Command culture that has plagued the Congress. Where the party has made a deep dent - like in Gujarat under Narendra Modi - it has operated as a regional party. 

If there is a Tirupati-like conclave in 2012 to decide on a future government in Delhi, its participants will not be bound by the protective cover of a natio-nal party. Federal impulses in India have developed independent roots, outside the structures of the two main national parties. 

At one time, particularly after the disastrous United Front experience between 1996 and 1998, it seemed that the impulses could be accommodated within coalitions built around the nationalparties. The Natio-nal Democratic Alliance was forged at a time when the BJP was the single largest party in the Lok Sabha and was seen to be growing. Similar circums-tances propelled the emergence of the Congress-led United Progressive Alliance in 2004. 

After the disastrous showing of both the Congress and the BJP in the Uttar Pradesh assembly election, there is every likelihood that the sum total of seats won by the regional parties could equal, if not exceed, the tally of the principal national party, be it Congress or BJP. In 1996, the combined strength of the regional parties that made up the United Front could not exceed that of either the BJP or the Congress. 

It was this absurd arithmetic (to which was added the unwillingness of the CPM to join any government where it was not the dominant partner) that made the tenures of H D Deve Gowda and I K Gujral so farcical. The Deve Gowda government, for example, was brought down on Sitaram Kesri's flight of whimsy and Gujral fell on the question of the DMK's alleged culpability in the murder of Rajiv Gandhi seven years before. 

The lesson that India drew from the UF experiment was that for coalitions to endure, there has to be a national party to lead it and provide it cohesiveness. Consequently, both Atal Bihari Vajpayee and Manmohan Singh have lasted their full terms. 

Could 2014 witness this arrangement turned upside down? In short, could India face a situation whereby the prime minister of any future coalition government is decided, not by a national party, but by a committee in which the regional parties together have a greater say? 

If indeed this does happen, old allergies may disappear and new, less ideological alliances may surface. In 1998, N Chandrababu Naidu, the convener of the UF, abruptly jumped ship after the election and extended support to the NDA. And even if a national party secures its prime minister, could that person be the preferred choice of the regional parties rather than the national party itself? For both the BJP and Congress this has ominous implications. Of course, the transition to a new and, perhaps, confederal system of coalitions is premised on the assumption that voting patterns in the state elections will be replicated in a parliamentary poll. Hitherto, the national parties have invariably performed better in Lok Sabha elections and have been inclined to make the national contest a quasi-presidential race. However, with economic decision-making devolving increasingly to the states, the disjuncture in political choice between the national and the state level may not be so marked. 

The time may have indeed come for another Tirupati-style conclave of the regional bosses to prepare for a time they could decide India's next prime minister. 


Times of India, March 14, 2012

Naveen hints at a new alignment

By Swapan Dasgupta

Odisha Chief Minister Naveen Patnaik is not known to be demonstrative. Low key and media shy, he is not careful to not say a word more than is strictly necessary. Even after three successive election victories, he remains an unknown entity to the political world outside Odisha.

Under the circumstances, Patnaik’s decision to be media-friendly last Friday to articulate his opposition to the National Counter-Terrorism Centre must be taken with exceptional seriousness. It is not merely that Patnaik was uncharacteristically loquacious and thoroughly enjoying his sharp attack on the UPA Government’s “arrogance” in not consulting the states, his intervention seemed well coordinated with the opposition expressed by Mamata Banerjee, J.Jayalalthaa and Chandrababu Naidu. It almost seemed that these non-UPA, non-NDA chief ministers and leaders had appointed Patnaik their spokesperson for taking forward the attack on the Centre for its violation of the federal spirit of the Constitution. Indeed, when directly asked by Times Now about his intervention signalling the beginning of a new grouping separate from the UPA and NDA, Patnaik indicated that it was a good idea.

Before rushing to any premature speculation about another Third Front that will replicate the United Front which emerged between 1996 and 1998, it may be instructive to look at the ground realities. Apart from Mamata who is in alliance with the Congress and whose principal opponent is the CPI(M), the others are in direct competition with either the Congress or a UPA partner. The BJP is not a major factor in West Bengal, Tamil Nadu and the non-Telengana region of Andhra Pradesh. In Orissa, the BJP has a foothold in western Orissa but, as the 2009 election indicated, it is still not in a position to translate its support into seats without an alliance with the BJD.

With the BJP showing little signs of any meaningful progress in the four states, it stands to reason that the principal opponent of these regional players—who between them have the potential of winning anything between 80 and 100 seats in a future Lok Sabha election—is the Congress. The BJP may be a vocal opponent of Patnaik in Odisha but overall, it has little stake in these four states. The NDA tally in these four states in 2009 was zero.  

This has implications for the future. If the decline of the Congress witnessed in the municipal elections of Maharashtra represent a “national mood”, as suggested by Sushma Swaraj, it stands to reason that the regional grouping would be more inclined to opt for the NDA than the UPA in a post-2014 scenario.

Between 1998 and 1999, many of these regional players joined the NDA (or, in the case of the TDP, entered into an electoral alliance with the BJP) for one simple reason: the BJP under the leadership of Atal Behari Vajpayee was in a position to supplement the existing support of these parties. The BJP, at that time, contributed to a significant value addition.

Tragically for the BJP this is no longer the case. Unless the ongoing Assembly election in Uttar Pradesh indicates that the BJP has reversed its steady decline, there is no earthly reason why these regional players will be inclined to enter into a formal relationship with the NDA. Nitish Kumar, a leader who could have associated with the regional bloc, remains with the NDA because an alliance with BJP yields electoral returns in Bihar. Unless the BJP can demonstrate that it counts in the four states, the prospect of any pre-poll alliance with the BJP in 2014 seems remote. In the case of Mamata, operating in a state where the Muslim electorate amounts to nearly 30 per cent, even the hint of any covert association with the BJP carries a grave risk.

It is always hazardous to forecast political developments. However, at the risk of being proven wrong, certain initial conclusions seem unavoidable. First, it is unlikely that the NDA will expand beyond its present strength. This implies that unless the BJP stages a dramatic recovery in Uttar Pradesh, the most that the NDA can hope for in 2014 is anything between 175 and 190 seats. This is likely to make it the biggest bloc in the Lok Sabha but will leave it well short of a majority. It will need the regional bloc to form a government.

Secondly, the question arises: on whose terms will such a government be formed. The NDA contains the Janata Dal (U) which should register a good performance in Bihar. Indeed, either in the form of Nitish Kumar or Sharad Yadav who is the convenor of the NDA, the NDA has an entry point into the regional bloc. But what will be terms of a settlement? Will the BJP stay out of the government to give the proverbial ‘outside support’? Or, will any settlement be thwarted if the BJP insists on having its own Prime Minister, as behoves the leader of the largest party? Alternatively, can the BJP throw up a leader who is acceptable to both the party and the regional leaders?

And, finally, depending on the outcome, what if the regional bloc ups the stakes and demands its own Prime Minister?

Consider all these possibilities and you will realise that Patnaik may have been doing more than having a ball at the expense of the media last Friday.


Sunday Pioneer, February 19, 2012 

SINGLE SIZE DOESN’T FIT ALL - To be united is not necessarily to be homogeneous

Swapan Dasgupta Many decades ago, during a Test match commentary on radio, I heard one broadcaster ask another a seemingly innocuous question: why does Bombay produce more Test cricketers than Calcutta? One of the proffered answers was quirky. The higher standard of cricket in western India was attributed to the Indian standard time. The reasoning was faultless. In the winter months, when cricket is normally played, darkness comes to Calcutta far earlier than it does to Bombay. Consequently, young cricketers in Bombay have opportunities for longer game practice in the afternoons than they do in Calcutta where, ideally, the clocks should be one hour ahead of IST. That a huge country like India should have multiple time zones may seem a no-brainer. After all, the sun rises two hours earlier in the Northeast than it does in parts of Gujarat. Yet, in the aftermath of Independence, when there was an understandable preoccupation with ‘national unity’, a political decision was taken to collapse the longitudinal variations in a unified time zone centred on Mirzapur in Uttar Pradesh. The decision was reiterated in 2004 when Kapil Sibal, who was then minister of science and technology, told Parliament that the IST should persist because “the expanse of the Indian State was not large”. That a breadth of more than 2,000 km covering 28 degrees of longitude should be regarded as “not large” by a minister may appear astonishing. But like the so-called ‘national dress’, which emerged out of Jawaharlal Nehru’s own sartorial preferences, the IST is a relic of the early post-Independence years when ‘national unity’ was often equated with homogenization. The thrust towards homogenization didn’t stop at symbolism. The 1950 Constitution was nominally federal in character. In reality, however, the antipathy to regionalism and the fear of secessionism made the Congress leadership retain the paramountcy clauses of the 1935 Government of India Act. Coupled with the establishment of the Planning Commission (a body that is outside the Constitution), which became the instrument of centralization, the political system was weighed heavily against the states. The Centre had the powers to dismiss state governments, thwart state legislations and possessed overriding powers in subjects under the concurrent list. And although the distribution of Central revenues was decided by the Finance Commission, the principle of a redistributive Centre meant that New Delhi retained enormous discretionary powers to either favour or discriminate against a state. The over-centralized system proved functionally adequate as long as the Congress was the dominant party and held power in both the Centre and the states. Differences, when they arose, were resolved across the table through informal discussions between party colleagues. Yet, grievances persisted. Eastern India, for example, was miffed by the freight equalization of coal and steel — a decision that negated the locational advantages of Jharkhand and West Bengal. In addition, the licence-permit-quota rajenabled powerful politicians and influential lobbies to defy the logic of the market. Things have no doubt changed with the end of the Congress’s monopoly of power and the dismantling of an overbearing regulatory regime after 1991. After a long and bitter political struggle that spanned some 25 years and some helpful interventions by the judiciary, the powers of the Centre to dismiss state governments have been regulated and codified. We are unlikely to see whimsical interventions that, for example, marked the dismissal of state governments in Andhra Pradesh, Tamil Nadu and Karnataka. At the same time, the Centre remains an irritant in allowing political considerations to decide what state legislation to approve and which ones to keep in abeyance. In recent months, environment has emerged as a point of friction with the Centre choosing to become the final arbiter for clearances. Liberalization of the economy, too, has helped the economic growth of the states. Before 1991, it would have been inconceivable for Ratan Tata to make a snap decision and shift the manufacturing unit for his low-price car from Singur in West Bengal to Gujarat. Indeed, the rapid development of Gujarat as a manufacturing centre under Narendra Modi would have been out of the question had the politicized licence-permit-quota rajbeen in place — a hostile Centre would never have given the necessary clearances. That foreign direct investment has taken place mainly in Tamil Nadu, Karnataka, Maharashtra and Gujarat (and not in Rae Bareli and Amethi) owes everything to the fact that decisions are being taken by corporates and not the Planning Commission. India, it would seem, has blundered from over-centralization to a position where states are accorded greater respect. However, this emerging equilibrium is in danger of being disturbed by trends within the Congress. In today’s India, with most state governments in the control of non-Congress parties, the Centre has found itself somewhat reduced in stature. To compensate for this loss of clout, the United Progressive Alliance government has chosen to undertake Delhi-designed mega welfare schemes embodied in the National Rural Employment Guarantee Act and the proposed food security bill. Inspired by European welfarism, the schemes are premised on the one-size-fits-all philosophy, a trademark of the earlier Planning Commission. Traditionally, critiques of Sonia Gandhi’s Lady Bountiful schemes have centred on their likely impact on the precarious fiscal deficit. There are also concerns that large sums of money may be diverted away from the real beneficiaries, thanks to an incompetent and venal State machinery. However, beyond fiscal and delivery concerns, a larger issue needs to be addressed. Is it appropriate that the Centre should apportion to itself the role of principal welfare agency? The answer should be in the negative. State governments have a greater connection with localities and a greater accountability to the people than babus in the ministry of rural welfare in Delhi. Why should the labour market in Punjab be distorted by a scheme that only serves to drive up agricultural prices? Why shouldn’t Gujarat be permitted to have welfare schemes for the poorer tribal districts, instead of having one imposed on the whole state? If Orissa and Chhattisgarh already have effective distribution of subsidized rice to poor families, why should a Food Security Act be imposed on it? Mamata Banerjee raised some of these larger questions when she questioned the right of the Centre to design a lokayukta scheme for the states. She had earlier raised similar questions over the imperious manner in which the Centre proceeded with the Teesta waters treaty with Bangladesh, which affected West Bengal directly. For raising the federal issue, Mamata was dubbed petulant and difficult. But who was being difficult? Mamata for upholding the rights of states? Or a Centre that proceeded on the assumption that a ‘big democracy’ has the divine right to guide ‘little democracies’? In six decades, India has travelled a long way. The concerns over ‘national unity’ that seemed all too real in 1947 are no longer valid. Today, the feeling of Indian-ness is deep-rooted and complemented by a vibrant metropolitan culture. Secessionism doesn’t have the same emotional appeal it had in the past, except perhaps in the Kashmir Valley located in a state that, ironically, accords the greatest measure of autonomy to its people. What does have an appeal is the desire for economic growth and personal betterment. It is in this context that excessive centralization and its associated inefficiencies become an impediment. The debate on federalism is circumscribed by the uncritical acceptance of many of the national symbols of power. There is a need for greater scepticism and intellectual audacity. We could start by asking whether the IST needlessly leads to the cricketing potential of eastern India remaining unfulfilled. The Telegraph, January 6, 2012

Lollipops won't pacify Mamata

By Swapan Dasgupta

The failure of the Congress-led UPA Government to negotiate the passage of the Lokpal Bill in the Rajya Sabha has been blamed on an obstructive BJP. Such an assessment is needlessly flattering to the BJP which found itself out of sorts in the Lok Sabha but managed to recover its composure in the Upper House. The question therefore arises: what did the BJP do right in the Rajya Sabha what it didn’t do in the Lower House?

The difference does not merely lie in the behaviour of the SP and BSP which obliged the Government in the Lok Sabha but demonstrated greater independence in the Rajya Sabha. The Government was far more bothered by the obstreperous conduct of its ally Trinamool Congress that wanted to press its amendments in the Rajya Sabha. The TMC managed to secure endorsements from all the Opposition parties. And this meant that the Government was bound to lose on the floor of the House had the vote actually been taken.

This was the third time in rapid succession that the TMC had scuttled the Government’s initiatives. It negated the Teesta Waters Treaty that Manmohan Singh wanted to sign during his visit to Bangladesh. The TMC chief Mamata Banerjee put her foot down on the ground that she had not been properly consulted. This embarrassment was followed by Mamata’s unbudging veto of the decision to allow foreign direct investment in multi-brand retailing. The TMC was concerned about the impact foreign investment would have on the millions of petty retailers who have few other means of sustainable livelihood in the state. And now there is Mamata’s unrelenting opposition to the Lokayukta proposals that have a direct bearing on how the state government fights corruption.

Mamata has been painted by the Government as a difficult customer and an incorrigible populist who is unmindful of larger national concerns. It is being whispered that intra-Bengali rivalries have prevented Mamata from obliging the otherwise obliging Pranab Mukherjee who has a reputation of being a crafty consensus builder.

Is Mamata as bad as she is made out to be by the Government’s spin doctors? That she is mercurial, pugnacious and prone to flying off the handle are well known. In fact, it is precisely these attributes that were well appreciated by the people of Bengal. You had to be something a little out of the ordinary to persevere for three decades—through many ups and downs—in the fight against a well-entrenched and ruthless Left Front.

Yet, I think the Congress has grievously miscalculated by imagining that Mamata is merely a spoilt child who can best be placated by doling out lollipops in the form of Central grants to her. Yes, Mamata does like the lollipops and is not averse to accepting freebies and sops. But, at the same time, like the mercurial J. Jayalalithaa of Tamil Nadu, her tantrums are not born out of impulsiveness alone. There is a great deal of calculation behind each of Mamata’s moves. It is these calculations that the Government has failed to understand when they view her as a petulant child.

The most important of Mamata’s objectives is her quest to establish a regional space for herself and her party. The TMC was born out of Mamata’s revolt against the High Command culture of the Congress. She could not countenance the fact that despite being the united Congress’ main mass leader in West Bengal she was being constantly stymied by rivals whose only claim to fame is that they had better connections in Delhi. Having established herself as the main anti-Left party in West Bengal and having overshadowed the Congress, her main thrust now is to transform a regional party into a party that epitomises West Bengal. Despite operating under the discipline of the Politburo, Jyoti Basu succeeded in positioning himself as the great Bengal consensus. Now Mamata wants to fill the void by taking up some of those issues.

Till the United Front Governments of H.D. Deve Gowda and I.K. Gujral gave the CPI(M) a stake at the Centre, the Reds in West Bengal had fought long and hard to rectify the imbalances in Centre-State relations. Fulminations against a discriminatory Centre formed an important part and parcel of the Left’s armoury.

Mamata’s battles should be rightly seen as an aspect of the battle to rectify federal distortions in the polity. In the past few years, Narendra Modi had fought these battles. But Modi was thwarted by both a political and image problem. Being in the BJP he did not have the requisite strategic clout to influence decision-making in the UPA—a problem that has plagued Nitish Kumar and Naveen Patnaik as well. In addition, the baggage of the 2002 riots made Modi a contentious figure and the UPA exploited this cynically.

With a total of 23 MPs in both Houses and representation in the Cabinet, Mamata has taken the battle inside the government where it is heard loud and clear. She has consciously abjured all patronage—she has not claimed a governership, any ambassadorships or quango jobs for her favourites—to focus single-mindedly on the principle that West Bengal must be consulted and its opinions taken on board on all matters that touch West Bengal, including foreign policy. She has contested the notion of an exclusive Central prerogative.

Mamata has initiated a principled battle for federalism. Other Chief Ministers could do well to emulate her.


Sunday Pioneer, January 1, 2012

Hope back in Calcutta

By Swapan Dasgupta

There was a time, somewhere in my distant childhood, when the 'season', beginning with Christmas and culminating in the New Year, was centred, not on Goa, but on Calcutta. It was 'burra din', the time when Park Street (now renamed Mother Teresa Sarani) was lit up to resemble Oxford Street in the only other city the elite of Calcutta identified with. It was the time of the Test match at Eden Gardens and the races on New Year’s Day. And it was the time of roasts and plum puddings laced with a dollop of brandy butter. 

Alas, that was before the Reds stepped in and turned Kolkata into a city of gloom. By the time the Left Front was removed last year, the spirit had been squeezed out of the second city of the Empire. Instead, Kolkata became a city with a glorious past and an uncertain future. The reality was symbolized by the imposing buildings in varying stages of dereliction. 

Returning to the city for the ‘season’ this year after more than 15 years, what was striking was the revival of hope. The Tourism Department of the state government had organized a Christmas festival on Park Street which was brightly lit and the restaurants were crowded and buzzing with activity. There was a gaiety that had earlier been missing. On Christmas Day, the temperature was a degree below London. And while the sahibs took out their tweeds and ties, the wags were quick to comment that ‘Didi’ Mamata Banerjee had done one better than the city that she holds as the ideal for Kolkata. 

What came as a bigger eye-opener was how little the conversations in the clubs or ‘athome’ drinks parties focused on either Anna Hazare’s show in Mumbai or the Lokpal debates in Parliament. It is not that West Bengal doesn’t have its share of graft and bureaucratic sloth. It is just that a city that had got back a glimmer of hope was too busy celebrating the likelihood of a better future.

From the perspective of the metros, the elements of hope may be woefully modest and even flaunting in Kolkata is sober by the exacting standards of Delhi and Mumbai. But the point to note is that Kolkata didn’t feel the political acrimony and the gloom-and-doom story that has overwhelmed much of India. 

The young Indian Civil Service recruits were taught in Haileybury that “whatever is true of India the opposite is equally true.” The lesson was worth remembering. Only too often , generalizations are made about India on the strength of a partial reality in Delhi. If Delhi shivers, the rest of India is also thought to be in the midst of a cold wave. 

The more we gauge the Indian reality, the more we realize that the ‘idea of India’ — a phrase so favoured by over-concerned TV anchors — is just another of those expedient myths we love to bandy about. There is undoubtedly an India that exists during war and cricket matches, but the idea varies from place to place and from city to city. This diversity is something that neither the Planning Commission nor the architects of mega welfare schemes have been inclined to accept. 

For the Delhi-based pan-Indian elite, political power emanates from the national capital and filters downwards. The reality, however, is that the country is made up of clusters of regional elites whose aspirations and priorities are very different, and why not? 

A simple Christmas celebration in Kolkata , Navratra in Ahmedabad and Ganesh chaturthi in Mumbai tells us more about the different Indias than all the proceedings of the Delhi-centric National Advisory Council. It tells us that a dysfunctional India doesn’t become a reality when the Centre loses its way. It happens when a paralysed Centre prevents the regions from achieving their true potential by concentrating too much power in Delhi. 

These days the talk is about democratization and accountability. These lofty goals become far more meaningful when Indian federalism becomes what it was intended to be: a Union of states. When Kolkata smiles and Delhi is gloomy, not least because some Bengali politicians are flexing their muscles, you instinctively know that something right is happening, somewhere.Street (now renamed Mother Teresa Sarani) was lit up to resemble Oxford Street in the only other city the elite of Calcutta identified with. It was the time of the Test match at Eden Gardens and the races on New Year’s Day. And it was the time of roasts and plum puddings laced with a dollop of brandy butter. 

Alas, that was before the Reds stepped in and turned Kolkata into a city of gloom. By the time the Left Front was removed last year, the spirit had been squeezed out of the second city of the Empire. Instead, Kolkata became a city with a glorious past and an uncertain future. The reality was symbolized by the imposing buildings in varying stages of dereliction. 

Returning to the city for the ‘season’ this year after more than 15 years, what was striking was the revival of hope. The Tourism Department of the state government had organized a Christmas festival on Park Street which was brightly lit and the restaurants were crowded and buzzing with activity. There was a gaiety that had earlier been missing. On Christmas Day, the temperature was a degree below London. And while the sahibs took out their tweeds and ties, the wags were quick to comment that ‘Didi’ Mamata Banerjee had done one better than the city that she holds as the ideal for Kolkata. 

What came as a bigger eye-opener was how little the conversations in the clubs or ‘athome’ drinks parties focused on either Anna Hazare’s show in Mumbai or the Lokpal debates in Parliament. It is not that West Bengal doesn’t have its share of graft and bureaucratic sloth. It is just that a city that had got back a glimmer of hope was too busy celebrating the likelihood of a better future.

From the perspective of the metros, the elements of hope may be woefully modest and even flaunting in Kolkata is sober by the exacting standards of Delhi and Mumbai. But the point to note is that Kolkata didn’t feel the political acrimony and the gloom-and-doom story that has overwhelmed much of India. 

The young Indian Civil Service recruits were taught in Haileybury that “whatever is true of India the opposite is equally true.” The lesson was worth remembering. Only too often , generalizations are made about India on the strength of a partial reality in Delhi. If Delhi shivers, the rest of India is also thought to be in the midst of a cold wave. 

The more we gauge the Indian reality, the more we realize that the ‘idea of India’ — a phrase so favoured by over-concerned TV anchors — is just another of those expedient myths we love to bandy about. There is undoubtedly an India that exists during war and cricket matches, but the idea varies from place to place and from city to city. This diversity is something that neither the Planning Commission nor the architects of mega welfare schemes have been inclined to accept. 

For the Delhi-based pan-Indian elite, political power emanates from the national capital and filters downwards. The reality, however, is that the country is made up of clusters of regional elites whose aspirations and priorities are very different, and why not? 

A simple Christmas celebration in Kolkata , Navratra in Ahmedabad and Ganesh chaturthi in Mumbai tells us more about the different Indias than all the proceedings of the Delhi-centric National Advisory Council. It tells us that a dysfunctional India doesn’t become a reality when the Centre loses its way. It happens when a paralysed Centre prevents the regions from achieving their true potential by concentrating too much power in Delhi. 

These days the talk is about democratization and accountability. These lofty goals become far more meaningful when Indian federalism becomes what it was intended to be: a Union of states. When Kolkata smiles and Delhi is gloomy, not least because some Bengali politicians are flexing their muscles, you instinctively know that something right is happening, somewhere.

Sunday Times of India, January 1, 2012