Hot topics overshadow parliament
Scan the news channels or the newspapers for update on the current parliament session and you will come across these headlines screaming at you: “Lok Sabha adjourned over Mumbai railway strike”, “Parliament adjourns twice after uproar over 2G spectrum issue”, “Parliament adjourned over phone-tapping issue” and so on. The list is endless. The previous weeks saw similar adjournments over some other issues--IPL, Tharoor, price rise, Dantewada massacre etc.
What about the legislative business which is supposed to be the main task of the highest legislative body? Well, the less said the better. The worst part is none, not even the opposition parties, seems to care about it any longer. Have you ever heard of an adjournment over passage of a bill without discussion?
On Monday, Lok Sabha saw passage of three bills without any discussion—Employees’ State Insurance (Amendment) Bill of 2009, Payment of Gratuity Bill and Clinical Establishments (Registration and Regulation) Bill. That is because these bills were taken up for passage amidst uproar over various other issues—allegations about a Trinamool Congress minister’s involvement in illegal arms deal and allegations about a DMK minister’s role in the 2G spectrum auction.
Four more bills, all relating to higher education—Foreign Educational Institutions (Regulation of Entry and Operations) Bill, National Accreditation Regulatory Authority for Higher Educational Institutions Bill, Educational Tribunals Bill and Prohibition of Unfair Practices in Technical Institutions, Medical Educational Institutions and University Bill—were introduced in Lok Sabha without any discussion.
Recall how Rajya Sabha cleared the Women’s Reservation Bill, which sought to alter the very composition of the legislature, by a voice vote at first and then, as if on second thoughts, proceeded to a debate and eventual passage through proper voting.
This practice, of passing bills amidst pandemonium and without discussion, has become quite common. According to the data compiled by a Delhi-based think tank, PRS Legislative Research, last year parliament saw passage of eight bills-- which included Commercial Division of High Courts Bill and Trade Mark Amendment Bill--with less than five minutes’ discussion. The previous year, the winter session of 2008, had seen passage of 16 bills in less than 20 minutes that included crucial ones like Information Technology Amendment Bill, Code of Criminal Procedure Amendment Bill, Gram Nyayalayas Bill and Prevention of Corruption Amendment Bill. In 2007, PRS Legislative Research said 30 to 40 percent of bills were passed “without significant debate”.
Some studies have also pointed out how time devoted in parliament to legislative work has been steadily declining. From close to 50 percent at the beginning, parliament is now spending only about 20 to 25 percent of its time in legislative business. Mind you, we are not even talking about the time lost to frequent adjournments or the declining number of days that both houses of parliament meet every year.
Tuesday, May 4, 2010
Husband empowerment
April 16-30 Governance Now
Though she is the sarpanch, it is her husband, the “sarpnach pati”, who calls the shots
One fine morning in March, I landed in a village named Kalipali in Orissa’s Ganjam district. Nestled in the midst of kewra shrubs and fertile farmlands, this village has been living on the edge for close to 13 years. The government acquired a part of the village for the Tata Steel’s Gopalpur plant and then forgot all about it. I went looking for the sarpanch’s house where a middle-aged woman responded and ushered me into the bedroom. An old man, her husband, was lying on the bed, immobilized. The woman said not to ask “saar” anything as he was very ill. Disappointed, I tiptoed out. The woman saw me off at the verandah. Outside the house, I inquired from the villagers who had gathered around by then if I could meet a panchayat member. Someone from the crowd pointed straight to the very same woman and said “but the sarpanch is standing right behind you!”
In sheer disbelief I asked her if indeed that was the case and she said yes. Why did then she take me to the old man? “But saar looks after everything”, she said innocently. I went back in and said I wanted to talk to her about the Tata project. She looked unsure but offered me a chair and sent someone to call her son and son-in-law.
While waiting for her son and son-in-law, I started talking to her and inquired for how long she had been the sarpanch. She looked at her daughter-in-law who stood in a corner of the room and said “three years” at her prompting. Soon I gathered her name is P Revati Reddy and she is a matriculate. For the moment I forgot the Tata Steel’s project and asked her if the village had schools for the kids, primary health centre and clean water etc etc. Every time I inquired from her she would look blank, turn to her son and son-in-law, who had arrived by then, who would do the talking.
Soon the topic of conversation turned to the Tata project. While leaving the house, I wanted to find out why she had given up her privilege of running the panchayat affairs to her husband. She admitted candidly that she had been attending to the home and the hearth all her life. It was the “saar” who took care of the outside world.
This wasn’t my first experience of a woman sarpanch. A couple of days earlier I had another chance encounter in the same district but in a different block, Aska —which used to be Biju Patnaik’s constituency and his son Navin Patnaik represented this parliamentary seat thrice before becoming the chief minister. (Incidentally, Orissa was the first state to grant 33% reservation to women in panchayats during during Biju Patnaik’s regime in 1992. But Karnataka was the first one to set aside a quota (25%) for women way back in 1987).
I was in Khukundia village of Bangarada panchayat to find out about the condition of the migrants who had lost their jobs in Surat and had returned home. After hearing their plight I wanted to meet the sarpanch to know about various social support schemes like PDS and NREGS. I was told the sarpanch was away. At various times a “gram saathi”, a panchayat official, and an ex-sarpanch called up the sarpanch and found out that he was in a nearby town. A meeting was fixed at a local market mid-way. After spending nearly three hours, during which time I visited the panchayat office and inquired at the PDS outlet, I left for the meeting place. The man arrived on a bike and introduced himself as Gaurahari Behera, a school teacher. As I started asking for details about inadequate PDS supply and delayed payment for NREGS, he fumbled again and again. I wondered aloud, how was it that the sarpanch didn’t know what should be on his finger tips. I wasn’t prepared for what was in store. He said: “I am not the sarpanch, my wife is.”
For a moment I was in a shock and did not know how to react. Then I felt outraged but wasn’t sure whether it was because I felt cheated or that the husband was openly masquerading as the sarpanch. “Why didn’t you tell me that at the beginning?” I demanded to know. He kept mum. I took the social activist escorting me aside and whispered: “Didn’t you know he is not the sarpanch?” He said everybody treated the husband as the real sarpanch and went on to explain how none even in his village referred to his wife when we were fixing a meeting with the sarpanch. “Such a husband is better known as sarpanch-pati”, he explained. The sarpanch-pati later said since his wife didn’t know how to deal with official documents he had stepped in. I found out her name is Basanti Behera and she is 9th pass. I would have liked to photograph her but I was desperate to reach another village to complete my assignment.
“Sarpanch-pati” wouldn’t leave me in haste, though not the kind I met so far . This time it happened in the village of Dongaria Kondhs, one of the most primitive tribes who live on mountain slopes of Niyamgiri (the same one that the Vedanta wants to mine for bauxite) and the surrounding hills. It was in Kurli village of Bissam Cuttack in far away Rayagada district. Subardani Wadaka is a Munda (another tribe from Keonjhar district) and is married to a Dongaria Kondh, Suresh Kumar Wadaka. Subardani was a social worker after completing her plus-2 when he came in contact with Suresh. They fell in love and married in 1999.
She first became the sarpanch in 2002. It was a reserved seat then but her good work saw to it that she defeated all her male competitors in 2007 to retain her position. Unlike the other two she seemed well versed with the panchayat affairs. In fact, I found her working in the panchayat office, along with her husband another panchayat official. She had all information on her finger tips. Like many others she was also worried about the mining project, though village wouldn’t be directly affected. Her thoughts drifted to the springs, the fruit trees and other forest produce that sustained the tribals. I was glad to meet a woman sarpanch who embodied all that policy makers dreamt while fashioning the women’s quota in the panchayats. I compliment her for the active role as I prepared to leave and narrated my earlier experience. To which she replied how everybody treated her husband (who had been grappling with files all the while) as the “sarpanch-pati” too.
A sad comment indeed the way the society treats a woman even when she takes charge of her life and life around her.
All these accounts are by no means representative. They were mere chance encounters in course of a week. But instructive in the way women have fared after reservation provided them space in the local government bodies. Will their fate be any different after seats are reserved for them in legislative bodies? Difficult to tell.
Though she is the sarpanch, it is her husband, the “sarpnach pati”, who calls the shots
One fine morning in March, I landed in a village named Kalipali in Orissa’s Ganjam district. Nestled in the midst of kewra shrubs and fertile farmlands, this village has been living on the edge for close to 13 years. The government acquired a part of the village for the Tata Steel’s Gopalpur plant and then forgot all about it. I went looking for the sarpanch’s house where a middle-aged woman responded and ushered me into the bedroom. An old man, her husband, was lying on the bed, immobilized. The woman said not to ask “saar” anything as he was very ill. Disappointed, I tiptoed out. The woman saw me off at the verandah. Outside the house, I inquired from the villagers who had gathered around by then if I could meet a panchayat member. Someone from the crowd pointed straight to the very same woman and said “but the sarpanch is standing right behind you!”
In sheer disbelief I asked her if indeed that was the case and she said yes. Why did then she take me to the old man? “But saar looks after everything”, she said innocently. I went back in and said I wanted to talk to her about the Tata project. She looked unsure but offered me a chair and sent someone to call her son and son-in-law.
While waiting for her son and son-in-law, I started talking to her and inquired for how long she had been the sarpanch. She looked at her daughter-in-law who stood in a corner of the room and said “three years” at her prompting. Soon I gathered her name is P Revati Reddy and she is a matriculate. For the moment I forgot the Tata Steel’s project and asked her if the village had schools for the kids, primary health centre and clean water etc etc. Every time I inquired from her she would look blank, turn to her son and son-in-law, who had arrived by then, who would do the talking.
Soon the topic of conversation turned to the Tata project. While leaving the house, I wanted to find out why she had given up her privilege of running the panchayat affairs to her husband. She admitted candidly that she had been attending to the home and the hearth all her life. It was the “saar” who took care of the outside world.
This wasn’t my first experience of a woman sarpanch. A couple of days earlier I had another chance encounter in the same district but in a different block, Aska —which used to be Biju Patnaik’s constituency and his son Navin Patnaik represented this parliamentary seat thrice before becoming the chief minister. (Incidentally, Orissa was the first state to grant 33% reservation to women in panchayats during during Biju Patnaik’s regime in 1992. But Karnataka was the first one to set aside a quota (25%) for women way back in 1987).
I was in Khukundia village of Bangarada panchayat to find out about the condition of the migrants who had lost their jobs in Surat and had returned home. After hearing their plight I wanted to meet the sarpanch to know about various social support schemes like PDS and NREGS. I was told the sarpanch was away. At various times a “gram saathi”, a panchayat official, and an ex-sarpanch called up the sarpanch and found out that he was in a nearby town. A meeting was fixed at a local market mid-way. After spending nearly three hours, during which time I visited the panchayat office and inquired at the PDS outlet, I left for the meeting place. The man arrived on a bike and introduced himself as Gaurahari Behera, a school teacher. As I started asking for details about inadequate PDS supply and delayed payment for NREGS, he fumbled again and again. I wondered aloud, how was it that the sarpanch didn’t know what should be on his finger tips. I wasn’t prepared for what was in store. He said: “I am not the sarpanch, my wife is.”
For a moment I was in a shock and did not know how to react. Then I felt outraged but wasn’t sure whether it was because I felt cheated or that the husband was openly masquerading as the sarpanch. “Why didn’t you tell me that at the beginning?” I demanded to know. He kept mum. I took the social activist escorting me aside and whispered: “Didn’t you know he is not the sarpanch?” He said everybody treated the husband as the real sarpanch and went on to explain how none even in his village referred to his wife when we were fixing a meeting with the sarpanch. “Such a husband is better known as sarpanch-pati”, he explained. The sarpanch-pati later said since his wife didn’t know how to deal with official documents he had stepped in. I found out her name is Basanti Behera and she is 9th pass. I would have liked to photograph her but I was desperate to reach another village to complete my assignment.
“Sarpanch-pati” wouldn’t leave me in haste, though not the kind I met so far . This time it happened in the village of Dongaria Kondhs, one of the most primitive tribes who live on mountain slopes of Niyamgiri (the same one that the Vedanta wants to mine for bauxite) and the surrounding hills. It was in Kurli village of Bissam Cuttack in far away Rayagada district. Subardani Wadaka is a Munda (another tribe from Keonjhar district) and is married to a Dongaria Kondh, Suresh Kumar Wadaka. Subardani was a social worker after completing her plus-2 when he came in contact with Suresh. They fell in love and married in 1999.
She first became the sarpanch in 2002. It was a reserved seat then but her good work saw to it that she defeated all her male competitors in 2007 to retain her position. Unlike the other two she seemed well versed with the panchayat affairs. In fact, I found her working in the panchayat office, along with her husband another panchayat official. She had all information on her finger tips. Like many others she was also worried about the mining project, though village wouldn’t be directly affected. Her thoughts drifted to the springs, the fruit trees and other forest produce that sustained the tribals. I was glad to meet a woman sarpanch who embodied all that policy makers dreamt while fashioning the women’s quota in the panchayats. I compliment her for the active role as I prepared to leave and narrated my earlier experience. To which she replied how everybody treated her husband (who had been grappling with files all the while) as the “sarpanch-pati” too.
A sad comment indeed the way the society treats a woman even when she takes charge of her life and life around her.
All these accounts are by no means representative. They were mere chance encounters in course of a week. But instructive in the way women have fared after reservation provided them space in the local government bodies. Will their fate be any different after seats are reserved for them in legislative bodies? Difficult to tell.
Friday, April 16, 2010
PC in a pickle?
Is P Chidambaram getting too big for his boots? Or is it that the Congress wants to send a conflicting message to address to the concerns of various constituencies? Better still, is it a reflection of the perceived differences between the political boss, Sonia Gandhi and the executive boss, Prime Minister Manmohan Singh?
Knowing the Congress, you never know. It can be any of these or all of these at the same time.
For quite some time, an impression has gain ground that Chidambaram is the Shining Knight of the UPA, particularly because of the way he has transformed the home ministry and taken the Maoists head-on. He has won the confidence and approbation of the BJP chief ministers too, including that of Narendra Modi. When he offered to resign following the Dantewada massacre, the BJP stood up and appealed him to continue his battle against the insurgent. No mean achievement this given the fractious politics of the day.
All this would have certainly rattled many in the party, a monolith which seldom allowed anyone to grow too big if he happened to be from outside the dynasty. Recall how Pranab Mukherjee and V.P. Singh had been cut to size. And also how P.V. Narasimha Rao had a difficult time dealing with Arjun Singh and N.D.Tiwari. In the present context, Digvijay Singh is far too senior a party leader to be taken lightly. There may have been personal differences, as he mentions in his newspaper article, but for him to take a line completely different from that of the party-led government on the Maoist issue raises reasonable doubts about the purpose of his salvo. Singh wrote, among other things, that “he (Chidambaram) is treating it purely as a law and order problem without taking into consideration the issues that affect the tribals”. Another of his comment is also note worthy. In the same article he wrote: “We can’t solve this problem by ignoring the hopes and aspirations of the people living in these areas. Are these people getting benefits of public distribution system, MNREGA, NRHM and other pro-people policies? Are our forest policies, mining policies, land and water policies people-centric?”
Another senior leader, Mani Shankar Aiyar, too has jumped into the ring. He has been insisting for days together, particularly after the Dantewada massacre, that the only solution to the Maoist problem is implementation of the Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act. When Digvijay Singh’s article caused a ripple, he supported him whole-heartedly, saying the former Madhya Pradesh chief minister is “one lakh percent right”. Are they playing a familiar game? The game that Digvijay Singh played by visiting Azamgarh some time ago to raise the Batla House encounter issue?
Political observers are not unfamiliar with the strategy of the ruling party to let a section of its own to act as a critique of the government’s policies to appropriate the role of the opposition. The Swadeshi Jagaran Manch and the RSS often played that role during the NDA regime. By taking a line that sounds so much like that of the civil society protesting against the security operation against the Maoists, both Singh and Aiyar seem to be playing to a constituency which has every reason to feel alienated from the party and the government—the civil society and the tribals among whom the Maoists have found a support base.
But coming as it does after the prime minister’s clear directive that only the home ministry would be the authority to speak on the issue, their comments can’t be seen simply as an attempt to keep various constituencies happy. Not when far too many grapevines are actively whispering about a growing gulf between the political boss, and the executive boss ---be it over amending the RTI Act, the Food Security Bill or one’s focus on social agenda while the other one is busy pursuing his economic and foreign policy agenda.
Singh and Aiyar are far too astute and shrewd politicians to let one know their real motive. If there is a method to the disgruntled voices against the government, it can be discerned in due course of time.
Knowing the Congress, you never know. It can be any of these or all of these at the same time.
For quite some time, an impression has gain ground that Chidambaram is the Shining Knight of the UPA, particularly because of the way he has transformed the home ministry and taken the Maoists head-on. He has won the confidence and approbation of the BJP chief ministers too, including that of Narendra Modi. When he offered to resign following the Dantewada massacre, the BJP stood up and appealed him to continue his battle against the insurgent. No mean achievement this given the fractious politics of the day.
All this would have certainly rattled many in the party, a monolith which seldom allowed anyone to grow too big if he happened to be from outside the dynasty. Recall how Pranab Mukherjee and V.P. Singh had been cut to size. And also how P.V. Narasimha Rao had a difficult time dealing with Arjun Singh and N.D.Tiwari. In the present context, Digvijay Singh is far too senior a party leader to be taken lightly. There may have been personal differences, as he mentions in his newspaper article, but for him to take a line completely different from that of the party-led government on the Maoist issue raises reasonable doubts about the purpose of his salvo. Singh wrote, among other things, that “he (Chidambaram) is treating it purely as a law and order problem without taking into consideration the issues that affect the tribals”. Another of his comment is also note worthy. In the same article he wrote: “We can’t solve this problem by ignoring the hopes and aspirations of the people living in these areas. Are these people getting benefits of public distribution system, MNREGA, NRHM and other pro-people policies? Are our forest policies, mining policies, land and water policies people-centric?”
Another senior leader, Mani Shankar Aiyar, too has jumped into the ring. He has been insisting for days together, particularly after the Dantewada massacre, that the only solution to the Maoist problem is implementation of the Panchayats (Extension to Scheduled Areas) Act. When Digvijay Singh’s article caused a ripple, he supported him whole-heartedly, saying the former Madhya Pradesh chief minister is “one lakh percent right”. Are they playing a familiar game? The game that Digvijay Singh played by visiting Azamgarh some time ago to raise the Batla House encounter issue?
Political observers are not unfamiliar with the strategy of the ruling party to let a section of its own to act as a critique of the government’s policies to appropriate the role of the opposition. The Swadeshi Jagaran Manch and the RSS often played that role during the NDA regime. By taking a line that sounds so much like that of the civil society protesting against the security operation against the Maoists, both Singh and Aiyar seem to be playing to a constituency which has every reason to feel alienated from the party and the government—the civil society and the tribals among whom the Maoists have found a support base.
But coming as it does after the prime minister’s clear directive that only the home ministry would be the authority to speak on the issue, their comments can’t be seen simply as an attempt to keep various constituencies happy. Not when far too many grapevines are actively whispering about a growing gulf between the political boss, and the executive boss ---be it over amending the RTI Act, the Food Security Bill or one’s focus on social agenda while the other one is busy pursuing his economic and foreign policy agenda.
Singh and Aiyar are far too astute and shrewd politicians to let one know their real motive. If there is a method to the disgruntled voices against the government, it can be discerned in due course of time.
Thursday, April 15, 2010
The Gujjars are back
The Gujjars of Rajasthan are back in action. Their long march to lay a siege of Jaipur has begun. Another few days and the Rajasthan capital could well be cut off from all sides as the Gujjars are moving in from east, west and south in large numbers. This time, their demand is to “implement” what their earlier agitations had led to—5 percent reservation in educational institutes and government services.
Funny how nothing moves in the power corridor until an agitation is launched.
But you can’t blame the Gujjars. They tried to sort out the matter through dialogue. It didn’t work. It hadn’t worked in 2007 or 2008 either, when they were demanding to be classified as a Scheduled Tribe and be given reservation in educational institutes and government jobs. They also gave an advance warning about their agitation, just as they had done on earlier occasions. You can’t blame Col Kirori Singh Bainsla, their leader, for not being orderly or efficient.
The state government too has followed its tradition. It hasn’t implemented the reservation granted last year. In fact, the genesis of the Gujjar problem lies in failed promises.
Vasundhara Raje had promised during 2003 elections that if voted to power she will classify the Gujjars as the Scheduled Tribe and grant reservation. She did nothing for four years. The Gujjars launched their agitation in 2007 which led to a bloodbath. She made promises again only to deceive and provoke another agitation a year later. When she finally passed a law, she could only take the Gujjars out of the OBC category to classify them as “Special Backward Class” and reserved 5 percent seats for them in educational institutes and government services. But before the governor could give his consent, she was out.
The Congress government led by Ashok Gehlot took it further and notified the law in 2009. A year later, it has not implemented it because the court intervened.
The Rajasthan High Court stayed the implementation saying that the total reservation crossed 50 percent, a cut-off mark the Supreme Court has set and can’t be violated. The government could have done much after the stay came in January this year but it didn’t.
What will happen now? The government has two options—either plead its case against the apex court’s cut-off mark, saying that this should be waved off in the extraordinary conditions prevailing in the state or take the Gujjars back as the OBC. The first option would make it a long-drawn affair.
The Gujjars want the government to decide one way or the other. They are now so desperate they wouldn’t mind becoming OBC again. In fact, they have indicated that they would be happy being so if their quota remained fixed, within the 27 percent marked for the OBCs. They stand to gain immediately. The government needs to fill up a vacancy of 120,000 teachers in the state. After all, some reservation is better than none.
Funny how communities think reservation is the only way to progress.
Funny how nothing moves in the power corridor until an agitation is launched.
But you can’t blame the Gujjars. They tried to sort out the matter through dialogue. It didn’t work. It hadn’t worked in 2007 or 2008 either, when they were demanding to be classified as a Scheduled Tribe and be given reservation in educational institutes and government jobs. They also gave an advance warning about their agitation, just as they had done on earlier occasions. You can’t blame Col Kirori Singh Bainsla, their leader, for not being orderly or efficient.
The state government too has followed its tradition. It hasn’t implemented the reservation granted last year. In fact, the genesis of the Gujjar problem lies in failed promises.
Vasundhara Raje had promised during 2003 elections that if voted to power she will classify the Gujjars as the Scheduled Tribe and grant reservation. She did nothing for four years. The Gujjars launched their agitation in 2007 which led to a bloodbath. She made promises again only to deceive and provoke another agitation a year later. When she finally passed a law, she could only take the Gujjars out of the OBC category to classify them as “Special Backward Class” and reserved 5 percent seats for them in educational institutes and government services. But before the governor could give his consent, she was out.
The Congress government led by Ashok Gehlot took it further and notified the law in 2009. A year later, it has not implemented it because the court intervened.
The Rajasthan High Court stayed the implementation saying that the total reservation crossed 50 percent, a cut-off mark the Supreme Court has set and can’t be violated. The government could have done much after the stay came in January this year but it didn’t.
What will happen now? The government has two options—either plead its case against the apex court’s cut-off mark, saying that this should be waved off in the extraordinary conditions prevailing in the state or take the Gujjars back as the OBC. The first option would make it a long-drawn affair.
The Gujjars want the government to decide one way or the other. They are now so desperate they wouldn’t mind becoming OBC again. In fact, they have indicated that they would be happy being so if their quota remained fixed, within the 27 percent marked for the OBCs. They stand to gain immediately. The government needs to fill up a vacancy of 120,000 teachers in the state. After all, some reservation is better than none.
Funny how communities think reservation is the only way to progress.
Wednesday, April 14, 2010
Rules flouted but Ramesh has only “regret” to offer
April 14, 2010, Governance Now
Mining firms start using non-forest land while eco approval is pending
Ask Environment and Forests Minister Jairam Ramesh, the one who has taken up cudgels for the green cause, why his ministry has been flouting its own rules in letting mining activities in non-forest areas.
The answer: Ramesh regrets. Yes, that’s right. His PA said “the minister regrets”. Does it mean he will not answer the questions? “Yes,” said his PA.
On prodding, the aide said he had put up a set of questions from Governance Now before Ramesh. The minister sent it back with just one word scribbled on the paper: “Regrets”.
I had written to the minister on April 8: "I am in possession of two communications from your ministry to the Orissa government, asking the principal secretary/special secretary (forests) to allow construction activities and mining activities in non-forest land even while final approval for the forest part of the proposal is pending with your ministry. This is a clear violation of your ministry's guidelines. How are your officials violating the guidelines and asking the Orissa government to violate it too?
“One case pertains to Aditya Alumina Ltd regarding diversion of 119.264 hectare of forest land in Sambalpur district for establishing a smelter plant. The letter is dated January 6, 2010 and has been signed by BK Singh, senior assistant inspector general of forests.
“The second instance relates to Tata Steel, regarding lease for Katamati mines in Keonjhar district. The mining proposal is pending with the Orissa government, your ministry's letter of December 18, 2009 says. The letter then instructs the special secretary (forests) that 'the mining may be allowed in non-forest land as per the map submitted with above mentioned diversion purpose". This letter too has been signed by BK Singh. It goes on to say Tatas' working is restricted to non-forest land since 1983.
“The third case relates to French multinational Lafarge's mining operations in Meghalaya – the matter is pending with the Supreme Court now. My question is what action you have taken against the officials who certified the mining area as 'rocky region' without any possibility of natural growth of forest in the Rapid Environment Impact Assessment Report of April 2000, on the basis of which mining was allowed. Later, the regional MoEF office in its letter of June 1, 2006 said the mining area is 'found surrounded by thick natural vegetation cover'. And what steps have you taken to prevent such ghastly acts by your officials?”
The minister himself has been at pains to explain the guidelines regarding the Forest (Conservation) Act of 1980, which says “that when a project involves both non-forest and forest lands, construction in the non-forest land should not begin without clearance for activity in the forest land itself.”
See attachments below for MoEF's letters flouting its own guidelines and asking Orissa government to do so.
Monday, April 12, 2010
Telangana: Politics sans commonsense
Feb 2010
Telangana has been on the boil for most part of the month. Students’ agitation and bandhs, often accompanied by violence, have crippled life in the region and brought the entire state machinery to a standstill. The council of ministers can’t meet because earlier the ministers belonging to Rayalseema and Coastal Andhra kept away protesting against the Centre’s go-ahead to the statehood for Telangana and then, when the Centre retracted its statement, those belonging to Telangana put in their papers. There are no indications that things would improve in a hurry.
Though the Centre has called a meeting with all political parties of Andhra Pradesh next week to arrive at a consensus, it has to be squarely blamed for creating the mess in the first place. Political prevarications that saw the UPA changing its stand on statehood time and again endures. That is the worrying part.
Is the Centre for smaller state? We don’t know. The Congress, which leads the UPA government, has kept changing its position. In 2004, it suited the party’s interest and hence it promised statehood for Telangana and forged an electoral alliance with the Telangana Rashtriya Samiti. But after forming the government, the Congress went back on its stand. It woke up to promise statehood again when the news came that TRS chief K Chandrasekhar Rao, who was on fast to press for statehood, was critical. When it evoked a strong protest, even from Congress’ own legislators, the government decided to put the statehood on hold and began a consultation process.
It is not difficult to resolve the issue. All it requires is to stop the politics of deception. It is easy to see why smaller states are eminently desirable. All statehood demands in recent past have emerged for economic reasons. When people started agitating for Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh and Uttarakhand, their main grouse was gross lack of development in those regions. After the statehood was granted, these new states have shown remarkable progress. Their GDP has grown at a much faster rate. The annual growth rate for the past five years is much better than rest of the country—9.3% for Uttarakhand, 8.45% for Jharkhand and 7.3% for Chhattisgarh.) These were once part of Bimaru states. There is no reason to believe that the situation would be any different if Telangana gets statehood.
It makes political sense too. Political stability may have eluded Jharkhand but people of the region feel more empowered. They are playing a direct role in forming their governments. Earlier, they voted for parties and candidates and waited for political machinations in Patna, a faraway place, to see who formed the government. They could only hope for more representation in the council of ministers so that projects and programmes benefitting them could be pushed harder. No more. Same is with Chhattisgarh and Uttarakhand. You don’t hear people grumbling and complaining of neglect. They stand to gain more by way of development work and employment opportunity. When Jharkhand was part of Bihar and the Subarnarekha dam project took off, most of the jobs meant for displaced people actually went to north Biharis. Such injustice is unthinkable now.
From administrative point of view too, smaller states make sense. Look at Chhattisgarh. It is still struggling to build roads, schools, hospitals, police stations and other infrastructure. Most of the Bastar region is devoid of all these. The government exists only in district towns and blocks. Some blocks are not even approachable. So long as the party in power in Bhopal did not feel threatened, nobody cared for a remote region like Chhattisgarh. The case of Telangana is no different.
Why does then the UPA government prevaricate on the statehood issue? It has begun consultation process for Telangana, but is steadfastly refusing to listen to those agitating for Gorkhaland. Irrespective of resolution of the Telangana issue, more and more demands for statehood would start. More agitation would mean more disruption, loss of life and loss of public assets. Commonsense would tell that the simple way to tackle the clamour for statehood would be to set up a new State Reorganisation Commission and implement its recommendation. But then, who says commonsense makes sound politics!
Telangana has been on the boil for most part of the month. Students’ agitation and bandhs, often accompanied by violence, have crippled life in the region and brought the entire state machinery to a standstill. The council of ministers can’t meet because earlier the ministers belonging to Rayalseema and Coastal Andhra kept away protesting against the Centre’s go-ahead to the statehood for Telangana and then, when the Centre retracted its statement, those belonging to Telangana put in their papers. There are no indications that things would improve in a hurry.
Though the Centre has called a meeting with all political parties of Andhra Pradesh next week to arrive at a consensus, it has to be squarely blamed for creating the mess in the first place. Political prevarications that saw the UPA changing its stand on statehood time and again endures. That is the worrying part.
Is the Centre for smaller state? We don’t know. The Congress, which leads the UPA government, has kept changing its position. In 2004, it suited the party’s interest and hence it promised statehood for Telangana and forged an electoral alliance with the Telangana Rashtriya Samiti. But after forming the government, the Congress went back on its stand. It woke up to promise statehood again when the news came that TRS chief K Chandrasekhar Rao, who was on fast to press for statehood, was critical. When it evoked a strong protest, even from Congress’ own legislators, the government decided to put the statehood on hold and began a consultation process.
It is not difficult to resolve the issue. All it requires is to stop the politics of deception. It is easy to see why smaller states are eminently desirable. All statehood demands in recent past have emerged for economic reasons. When people started agitating for Jharkhand, Chhattisgarh and Uttarakhand, their main grouse was gross lack of development in those regions. After the statehood was granted, these new states have shown remarkable progress. Their GDP has grown at a much faster rate. The annual growth rate for the past five years is much better than rest of the country—9.3% for Uttarakhand, 8.45% for Jharkhand and 7.3% for Chhattisgarh.) These were once part of Bimaru states. There is no reason to believe that the situation would be any different if Telangana gets statehood.
It makes political sense too. Political stability may have eluded Jharkhand but people of the region feel more empowered. They are playing a direct role in forming their governments. Earlier, they voted for parties and candidates and waited for political machinations in Patna, a faraway place, to see who formed the government. They could only hope for more representation in the council of ministers so that projects and programmes benefitting them could be pushed harder. No more. Same is with Chhattisgarh and Uttarakhand. You don’t hear people grumbling and complaining of neglect. They stand to gain more by way of development work and employment opportunity. When Jharkhand was part of Bihar and the Subarnarekha dam project took off, most of the jobs meant for displaced people actually went to north Biharis. Such injustice is unthinkable now.
From administrative point of view too, smaller states make sense. Look at Chhattisgarh. It is still struggling to build roads, schools, hospitals, police stations and other infrastructure. Most of the Bastar region is devoid of all these. The government exists only in district towns and blocks. Some blocks are not even approachable. So long as the party in power in Bhopal did not feel threatened, nobody cared for a remote region like Chhattisgarh. The case of Telangana is no different.
Why does then the UPA government prevaricate on the statehood issue? It has begun consultation process for Telangana, but is steadfastly refusing to listen to those agitating for Gorkhaland. Irrespective of resolution of the Telangana issue, more and more demands for statehood would start. More agitation would mean more disruption, loss of life and loss of public assets. Commonsense would tell that the simple way to tackle the clamour for statehood would be to set up a new State Reorganisation Commission and implement its recommendation. But then, who says commonsense makes sound politics!
Postcards from the Republic of Hunger
March 29, 2010, Governance Now
People of Balangir district of the infamous KBK region of Odisha want food, not government schemes to provide food
People of Balangir district of the infamous KBK region of Odisha want food, not government schemes to provide food
Starvation deaths and Orissa have become synonymous. It does not raise eyebrows anymore. Nobody loses sleep over them, least of all the local administration. A series of reports has appeared in a national daily pointing out that about 50 people have perished to hunger in Balangir (one of the three districts infamous as KBK, along with Korapur and Kalahandi) alone in the past two to three years. Not even a perfunctory inquiry has been ordered. The local media has, more or less, ignored the tragedy. If at all, the issue is being debated by civil society groups but the bone of contention is that the figure might be exaggerated. The state human rights commission has made a bold move to visit the affected areas but its report will take some time.
A quarter of a century ago, when starvation deaths first shook the nation’s conscience, big plans were made and a lot of money was pumped in to provide food and reduce poverty in the KBK region. A long-term action plan (LTAP) was made, which was then rechristened with some modification as a Revised LTAP plan. Then came the Biju KBK plan. The KBK districts were reconstituted into eight districts to improve administration. All that planning is meaningless now because all that has been done on paper. There is nothing on the ground to show.
The KBK region continues to languish in poverty, particularly Balangir. A huge chunk of population migrates out every year in search of work. Though there are no official records, civil society groups put the figure at 100,000 (of a total population of about 15 lakh). Most of them go to Andhra Pradesh to work at brick kilns. They go half-fed, suffer from various diseases because of poor nutrition and die young. According to Umi Daniel of a non-governmental agency, Aide et Action, South Asia, who studies problems of migration and related issues, the average life expectancy of the migrants is 40 years.
The government has various schemes to ensure that nobody goes hungry. Subsidised ration is provided to BPL and APL families. Then there are ICDS, mid-day meal scheme, Antyodyaya Anna Yojana and Annapurna Yojana to take care of the needy. But a large number of these migrants, who qualify as BPL families, don’t get any benefit. The BPL list has not been updated since 1997. No BPL also means they are denied other benefits like pension for widows (one has to fill in the BPL card number in the form), Indira Awas Yojana and other such schemes. The food-for-work carried out under the KBK plan has been discontinued. Work under NREGS is hard to come by because the average number of days of work is less than half the mandatory 100 days. And since the migrant families are mostly landless and the state has poor irrigation facilities, it is that much harder for them to work in the fields as farm labourers. Months leading to the monsoon are, therefore, the toughest to survive.
The central government may be working towards a right to food bill but these migrants of Balangir are doomed to die young--to disease and starvation, thanks to an inept government and years of negligence and absence of alternative sources of employment.
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