The Great Indian Oversight System

If you think that the genial Sardar who comes every day by the Patel Nagar chartered bus to work in the Ministry of Defence in South Block signifies the so-called civilian supremacy in India’s defence architecture, you could be way off the mark. Or did you think it is the dhoti clad Minister who is worried about the next elections, constituency problems, party responsibilities and starred questions in Parliament? You could be even further from the truth.

      Typically the Indian government system works like this. We entrust a job to 5 guys. Then we appoint auditors, inspectors and accountants (totalling about 15 guys) to over see the work of the 5 guys. It is important that these 15 overseers have no domain knowledge of the “job at hand.” We believe that all the overseers need to be independent of any trappings of knowledge so that they are “free of prejudices”, can “bring a fresh perspective to the task” and “not be influenced” by the 5 guys. The 5 guys then start getting fidgety since they have a job to finish and there are 15 guys breathing down their necks. They think of several ways to pamper these 15 guys, thus losing sight of the job in hand. The 5 guys are tied down to a higher degree of accountability. The 15 guys constitute what is known as a wonderful scheme called “checks and balances” in government. The 15 guys then go on inspection visits, enjoy creature comforts like vehicles to ply them, guest houses to stay in; they write long reports, seek immediate answers etc etc all on government time and on the budget for the “job at hand”. In the end the job is not done. Long winded excuses are made and vetted by the 5+15 guys. Hence we have un-acquired weapons, overpaid staff, failed targets and unspent budgetary allocations. This may be an exaggeration but true insiders will swear that it is the truth. To top it all we have a hysterical media which has no clue of the actual malaise and media persons who have no time for real research. (Except for a few honourable exceptions)

          We also have a general cynicism about indigenous defence production. The uniformed soldiers and the “overseer Babus” carry deep prejudices and general air of condescension towards indigenous capabilities. This is a country which is recognized world over for software skills and engineering capabilities. We never put a plan in place; we never firm up our requirements in time; we keep shifting goal posts for domestic producers (foreign producers are endowed with the ability to shift our goal posts); we never co-ordinate among diverse agencies and we brand our indigenous research and production agencies as white elephants without knowing under what circumstances they are tasked to deliver. While we flex our muscles to take on a global super power’s role, let us stop for a moment and ponder on one small truth. No superpower has got there by importing arms from others. All of them have bet on their indigenous capabilities and slowly built on their strengths. Unfortunately, we prefer to be in “elite” company….of countries like Pakistan, Nigeria and Saudi Arabia who have either aid dollars or oil dollars to spare and to import fancy toys for their defence forces. Fixing indigenous research and production ought to have been our first priority.

      We, alas, have a permanent bureaucracy which doesn’t specialize in any field. We are rotated to various jobs; the regular bureaucrats from states acquire minimal domain knowledge in at least about 5 different fields in a career spanning 30 years or so. We add value to our bureaucrats; bureaucrats don’t add value to the system. This ossified system would have served its’ purpose in a gentler time in the 1940s and 50s, when the ICS had to take care of diverse fields. Today’s IT, Telecom, Civil Aviation or Defence need in-depth domain knowledge and cross-functional skills. We ought to think of appointing Professors in Computer Science as Joint Secretaries and Directors in IT Ministry on contract; Or Defence Research Scientists on a 5 year term as Joint Secretaries in Defence Acquisition. If the readers believe that I am ranting against IAS, please hold your horses. Even some of the finest IAS Officers who gathered excellent domain knowledge in Defence are laterally shifted to Textiles, Coal or Official Language implementation Ministry at the end of their careers- Thus leaving neither Defence nor the recipient department richer by their knowledge or experience. Hence we have Government Departments which have very little institutional memory or domain knowledge. The Sardar from Patel Nagar will be shifted to Finance Ministry soon and the IAS Officer who did a good job will go back to District administration.  Maybe the time has come to think of infusing specialists with generalist skills; not the other way around. The time has come to think of a lot of lateral induction into bureaucracy; Or to think of setting up a specialist organization consisting of professionals from IT, Defence Research, production, finance, which is exclusively tasked with Defence Acquisition. This organization may then go on to consolidate past experiences and be accountable to the MoD.

            On my maiden visit to the US on a Defence delegation, I was truly amazed to see the domain knowledge that their Defence Officials bring to their jobs. US are a country that believes in the spoils system or the “jobs for boys” system. In other words, after each change of administration, the new political leadership appoint their own men and women to crucial, senior positions in the administration including bureaucracy. Hence one would expect politicians to bring in ill-informed professionals to various jobs based on past associations and back slapping familiarity. Yet some of Bush’s important Defence bureaucrats were neither removed by Obama nor replaced by his own people.  France has a system where the DGA France is manned by personnel who are experts from various spheres of Defence and have served in various capacities in the field, thus giving them a wide perspective.

         The Army chief is giving vent to his frustration with the system. Aren’t we all? After having worked in the South Block, I stand firm in my belief. Between ill informed bureaucrats and short sighted uniformed service men, it is the politicians who come up smelling roses. They stood long hours in the sun and gave fiery speeches to get where they got. They are a microcosm of Indian society, warts and all. Why blame them? While salaried professionals like us who wrote difficult competitive exams are self serving to the point of putting the country’s interests in peril? We carve out roles for ourselves, impose illogical oversight systems, lose sight of results and generally strangle professionalism in Government.  (Also read Awards and rewards, dated 22 August 2008 in this blog)

Indianness

        The rare Non- Keralite readers of this blog are going to find it uninteresting to read about. But this is about a person who influenced me profoundly. He was the sounding board of the thinking Mallu's conscience ( as against the average liquor swilling, sexually frustrated type). He inspired many generations with his speeches and writings. Prof Sukumar Azheekode passed away last month. It was just last year that he finished writing his autobiography. He was proud of his good health and wrote about his many simple formulae to good health. After completing his autobiography, he was diagnosed with cancer and was ailing for sometime.

  When I was a school boy, I went walking some distance to hear him speak at a function held to unveil the statue of a living celebrity ( a freedom fighter from the nearby village). I found the whole thing about building statues to living celebrities thoroughly amusing. Out of curiosity, I went to see this silly farce. The place was jam packed with people who had come to listen to the speech of Prof Azheekode, who was the chief guest. I hadn’t heard much about him until then.It was so crowded that I couldn’t enter the hall. I heard the speech from the road through the loudspeakers. I stood spell bound, enthralled by the talk. It was like listening to a great piece of Classical music. Starting with whispers almost difficult to hear, building up the tempo and reaching crescendo. Words flowed uninterruptedly. Although I read his articles off and on, I never forgot that speech. Words are, he said, my soldiers...

        Years later when I heard that his book ‘Tat vamasi’ won several awards, I made an insincere attempt to read it. It was a distilled commentary on the Upanishads. I found it too erudite and left it half way. But it was a senior IAS Officer (one of those rare bureaucrats who reads) who told me about his book “Bharatiyata” (loosely translated as Indianness, a series of speeches given by Prof Azheekode in Thrissur town, in the aftermath of Babri Masjid demolition) I was totally hooked on to the book. For many years I kept it near my bed and read a few pages before I went to sleep. The missus (who can’t read Malayalam) often wonders why this small book is always around. I tell her that I wish every Indian would read it. It would help an Indian truly understand his identity and his heritage. The speeches reveal a sense of pain and anger- At politicians who do not understand the idea of India. When I lose hope in politicians and bureaucrats I scan through the pages of this small book and derive comfort.

        He had an opinion about everything. Mostly very intuitive and driven by public perception. As the retired Pro-Vice Chancellor of Calicut University  he could express them freely. Without the backing of any political party, he could draw huge crowds. He once contested elections as a Congress candidate and lost. He harshly criticized the mainstream political parties of Kerala. Sometimes he came down heavily on movie actors. He stood by the the weak and dispossessed. His faith in secularism was deep and unshaken. But his interventions in affairs in which he had no business often invited ridicule.

                And he died a bachelor. He proudly claimed that he never had physical relations with a woman. But there is a poignant love story in his past. He loved a woman, wanted to marry her and wrote her many letters. He backed out of marriage for reasons not very clear. She waited for him. When she heard him say something dismissive about the whole affair in public, she went ahead and published those letters. (After reading those letters in a periodical, Kamala Das was supposed to have called him up to say that she wish she had a lover who could write love letters like that !!!)  Instead of maintaining a dignified silence at this rather distasteful pubic exposure, he viciously criticized the scorned lover. She, nevertheless met him a few days before he died. And said that she is still waiting for him. It is the kind of story that would bring anyone to tears; but he emerged a much diminished man from the entire sordid episode.

    This thin, frail man traveled the length and breadth of Kerala to give 16000 odd speeches in his life time. I have heard only one. He published many books. I have read only three. He was considered a giant at literary criticism and knowledgeable in Hindu philosophy. He had written somewhere that he was influenced by two people. Gandhiji and Swami Vagbhatananda (try googling that name; you’d get very few results). He remains a great influence on those who heard him or read him.

   His death is not merely a loss, but the passing of an age.

The letter I might never write

Our son Chathu is getting married. He has given many anxious moments to his parents all these years. There are days when we had speculated about his sexual orientation, virility and hormonal imbalances which have led to an unexplained disinterest (perhaps mutual) in the opposite sex. While I had always ascribed it to the rather unsuccessful track record of his father with women and thereby dismissing it all as part of his genetic makeup, his mother has been making several futile attempts at matchmaking.  Finally Chathu has found a partner of his liking who is, incidentally not from our community/religion/state/nationality. We, his parents cordially extend this invitation to attend his wedding.

This is a marriage with a difference. It will be conducted at an Old age home near our village in Kerala, where old parents of many grown up kids are spending the last days of their lives, some scorned and unwanted. There are some who live there out of choice also, for the rather fragile security environment near their original place of residence or due to the extreme feeling of desolation and loneliness. You, dear friend, with your presence, would be making their lives interesting for a day. Be prepared to hear boring stories from a distant past related at a meandering pace.

     After having witnessed several weddings, where humans look like moving mannequins decked up in pounds of gold and acres of silky finery, I am issuing this small warning. If you wear gold, do it at your peril. It will be confiscated and donated to the Old age home. Gifts are not accepted. If you still feel like giving something, I would be happy to receive a token amount, not exceeding Rs 500, in the form of a crossed cheque drawn in the name of the Old Age Home.

             A meal consisting of one Sabzi, one Daal and a sweet with Rice, chappati and curd will be served. No plastic tumblers and packaged food will be served and you are expected not to waste any food. You will be enjoying this meal in the relative discomfort of a non- air-conditioned hall and in the company of old people residing in the home. There won’t be chanting of Shlokas or a ceremony around holy fire. I, the father intend to declare them married, much in the style of declaring open the Olympic Games. After the brief function the couple are expected to proceed to a civil office to register their marriage and thence to their city of work. There won’t be any honeymoon in Maldives or Malibu. Neither Chathu, nor I can afford it. I don’t expect the bride or her parents to pay for it either.

     You may be wondering if I had gone crazy in old age. Well, it is true that old age has brought with it insecurities and a certain inexplicable frugality. Add to it the long years spent in an ill paid Govt job and you have the perfect makings of a cranky, miserly old man. Hence,I will scrounge on the money a little. The Missus and I are extremely shaken by the display of wealth and vulgar expenditure on the marriages that we have attended. Hence we decided to make a small difference. Of course Chathu has expressed his deep displeasure at this embarrassing venture of ours. He has reluctantly agreed to lend his presence for this formal function to satisfy an old man’s whims and eccentricity. He will be partying with his friends separately and, understandably, wants none of his friends to see what an embarrassment his parents have become in old age.

PS: I, along with Missus, are moving into the same Old age home after the wedding. You are welcome to drop in whenever you like. It would make our day a wee bit brighter.

The God business

          This blogger earnestly believes that, to be a secular state, we ought not to be sensitive to religious beliefs of its’ citizens. Instead we need to be brazenly indifferent about it. The state ought to display its supreme aversion and condescension to religion. How do we go about it? Considering the complications that our pluralism brings about, we need to go one step ahead of France and start offending sensibilities associated with faith. As a first step we need to demolish places of worship that are built on encroached land.

        If we study the history of religions, it is easy to see that new Gods have not been discovered or broken out of nowhere. It is the cruelty and injustice of the priests, mullahs and other sundry intermediaries of God which have led to revolts and spawned new religions. Even today these very intermediaries create divisiveness through media, politics and other platforms. In matters of faith, everyone, turns serious, morose and sensitive. How can the State call their bluff?

                Very easy, in fact….Any individual may be permitted to submit a declaration in a stamped document that he belongs to a certain religion. Those who do not submit such a document may be treated as a non-believer, ambivalent to religions. The stamped document can be of value Rs 1000- (let us not miss an opportunity to garner some revenue to the government out of this farce called religion). Those who do not submit any such document can be treated as who either doesn’t subscribe to any religion or who are believers but choose not to spend Rs 1000 to a (arguably) corrupt government and hence choose not to be publicly seen as belonging to any. If those who aren’t enrolled officially into any religion are banned from visiting the place of worship or propagating their religion and can only pray in the privacy of their homes, then we would have become the first country in the world to have cleverly nailed one of the most ludicrous rackets (of God’s agents on earth) in the world. In other words, we would have successfully carried out dis-intermediation of the God business, reduced entry barriers and facilitated easy exits too.  Priests and Mullahs will have to look for alternate occupations like selling lottery tickets or becoming tea vendors. They might even migrate to the underworld and pose an existential threat to Bhai log in Mumbai.    

     Let us think further. What are the benefits of those who declare, say,  Hindu? He gets to follow the Hindu succession Act, Hindu Marriage Act (if at all you see that as a benefit) and get to be burned, not buried on death. What if you choose to convert to Islam? You get to follow Islamic personal law. You can keep a few more wives (if you can afford them & are not particularly keen on a career in Government which has a precondition that you cannot have more than one wife living), you get to follow Muslim succession rules, you don’t get interest from Banks and get to be buried on death. Those who do not enroll in any religion get to follow secular personal laws, which do not permit more than one wife, get to be burned or buried or thrown into sea as they deem fit and get to follow secular succession Act. There could be all kinds of trivial reasons for conversion. Someone might choose to convert to Sikhism for the hilarious excuse that he needs to save money on a hair transplant and can spout a turban to hide his bald pate. Or he might just like to be known as a Sardarji. Proselytizing religions might sponsor mass conversions with Rs 1000 stamp papers using petro-dollars and church funds, but since the whole thing had deteriorated to a farce, wise citizenry might be unwilling to convert unless something more substantial is offered. Like a home, livelihood or hard, solid cash. Do you see a rush of individuals queuing up to subscribe to Christianity, Hinduism or Islam? No Sirree. Even a believer might choose to pray in the privacy of his home and choose not to flaunt his religion. No one will care a toss about religion.

           Hmm… sounds interesting. Can we extrapolate this to the caste system also? Can we submit the aforesaid stamp paper and claim to belong to any caste we want? I foresee a queue of upper caste individuals waiting to declare as SC/STs to garner the benefits of reservation. Hence let us put a rider there. Once you submit such a document, then the person ought to be permitted to marry only from that caste. That settles it. Within a few years we will have the oppressive Hindu caste system reduced to a similar farce. All sorts of marriages of convenience might take place. Wealthy lower castes will declare themselves Brahmins and marry poor Brahmin girls. Poor Brahmins may aspire to move up the economic ladder by marrying someone rich from the backward castes. The benefit of reservation can then be given only to the offspring of such unions. There goes caste politics for a toss. It will be chaos in the beginning and an enforcement nightmare. In a few years we can claim to have broken the back of many divides and fissures in our society. What if two forward castes submit a document claiming to be backward and reap benefits? We might think of some safeguards to prevent such unions.

   The seed of this idea was planted by one of my favourite columnists, Late M P Narayana Pillai, who proposed that anyone may be permitted to declare himself a Nair by submitting a stamped document. If you think I have a good idea or want to propose some changes to the above idea, I would be interested to hear about it. Or do you think I am crazy? Please tell me …

Garbage Nation

Very few readers have missed my presence in this space. A few thought of asking me why I am irregular. No excuses for the long silence. Didn’t feel up to it; period. Meanwhile I continue to get mails on the Naxalite Story…

        If one lives in Chennai, it becomes very clear that India ought to first learn to deal with garbage before building Aircrafts, Tanks and missiles or wiping out corruption. This blogger humbly contributes to the production of hi-tech Battle Tanks for the Indian Defence Forces. India is about to test fire Agni-5 which can hit targets 5000 kms away. We have achieved a great deal of sophistication in manufacture of fighter aircraft and helicopters too.  If all that fills you with a sense of pride, just pause for a moment and look at the way garbage is strewn everywhere in Chennai. Near my apartment complex, which houses about 500 flats, there are two big rubbish bins. I notice that the garbage bins are of ‘x’ height, the garbage collection trolleys on quadricycles are of ‘x-1’ height. As a result much of the garbage is first deposited on the ground and then piled into the bins. A lot of transmission loss occurs. As a result of this about one tenth of the garbage is strewn carelessly on the road itself. 

        There is no segregation of waste into organic and recyclable. My entire drive to Office is dotted with the unseemly sight of heaps of garbage. There are flies everywhere and the smell of rotting organic waste overpowers you as you drive by; even with windows up and air conditioner on. The garbage bins are huge metallic structures which do not render themselves to easy maneuvering or for lifting and dumping into the huge garbage trucks run by a firm called Neel Metal Finalca. They are collected infrequently and their trucks are parked near the junctions where the huge garbage bins are placed. The traffic is blocked for a few minutes as the collection truck comes for emptying the bins. They almost always never bother about the stuff that is lying outside the bins. The workers who are involved in this operation do not wear any gloves. 

          Are we so incompetent that we cannot run a good garbage collection and disposal system? I have seen some of our best Babus doings things they do not know anything about. They carry their knowledge about sanitation to Defence and Telecom to Finance seamlessly. One would almost be persuaded to think that this country is not only run by politicians without domain knowledge, but also by Government Officials of the same kind. Hence this open offer. I, who has spent a life time in Defence Production and Acquisition, hereby offer to work for Municipal garbage removal. I do not offer magical, instant solutions. Give me some time, existing resources and half my present salary. Let me make a humble effort to sort out the garbage before I plunge back into making hi tech Battle Tanks. I make this offer knowing that there will be no takers for it. Somehow, Civilian administration is an elite preserve and the likes of me would never be welcome. At least the guys who are doing it should wake up and smell the garbage.

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What I am reading:         “Dead Reckoning” An alternate history of the 1971 Bangladesh war written by Sarmila Bose. An interesting insight struck me as I read it. Did you know that Yahya Khan, the Pakistani General, known for his drinking/ womanising ways, was the only Military Dictator who earnestly tried to hand power back to the Civilians in Pakistan? Reminded me of Schindler’s List and the many virtues of those of who are not stuck up about middle class morality. The rest of the usurper-Generals, full of piety and nationalistic fervour, went out kicking/ screaming, were booted out or were killed in mysterious air crashes. Sarmila Bose says that most accounts of the Liberation war are peppered with untruths/ exaggerations. 

     I have also started on with two detective fiction writers. R D Wingfield, who has written novels which have become the popular TV series, A Touch of Frost. I am also reading Peter James who has written the Dead series with Roy Grace as the Detective. “Reading the Quran” by Ziauddin Sardar, a British writer, is another book that I read in fits and starts. He tries to dispel many of the popular myths about unpopular practices and beliefs in Islam. I also read “The Man who loved Books too much” by Allison Hoover Bartlett. 

            I managed to read The River of Smoke by Amitav Ghosh. I couldn’t wait to get my hands on it as soon as it was released. Watch out- this man is going to win the Nobel someday. He tells a story well, his stories are well researched and he knows how to keep the reader engrossed.