Regardless of the Aam Aadmi Party’s performance in the municipal elections held in Delhi on Sunday, its leader Arvind Kejriwal should resign as chief minister and hand over the reins of governance to his deputy, Manish Sisodia. This would free Kejriwal to return to the people to reinvent the popular movement from which the party was spawned.

This suggestion is being made not because the predicted loss for the Aam Aadmi Party in the civic elections, forecast by exit polls, undermines his moral authority to govern Delhi, as was recently made out by Swaraj India leader Yogendra Yadav.

Indeed, Assembly and municipal polls have different dynamics. For instance, the Congress under Sheila Dikshit lost twice to the Bharatiya Janata Party in the local body elections and yet continued to garner a majority in the Delhi Assembly. What applied to her, and still does to others, should to Kejriwal as well.

The reasons why Kejriwal should resign are of a completely different order. India’s electoral politics shows alarming signs that it no longer serves the purpose of educating people, of enabling them to comprehend issues in all their subtleties and debating them. This was manifest in Delhi, where its electorate seemingly confused the categories of duty and responsibility of its state government with those of the three municipal corporations, which are currently ruled by the BJP. Messaging is now paramount, because of which it was made out that Delhi’s problems – from the clearing of garbage to mosquito control – were the failings of the Aam Aadmi Party government.

However, Delhi’s cleanliness is the responsibility of the municipalities, notorious for their corruption. Ask any roadside vendor in the city and he will regale you with the amount of bribe he pays every month to municipal officials and beat constables who also pinch cigarettes, cold drinks and snacks and food for free.

Who in Delhi will not vouch for the money he or she has saved over the last two years because of the sharp reduction in power rates that the government has brought about? Then, there are the growing number of areas in the city that have been liberated from the clutches of the water mafia. Think of the Aam Aadmi Party’s focus on improving government schools and on building mohalla clinics that have won accolades from global health experts.

You would think the Aam Aadmi Party’s record of the last two years would inspire Delhiites to believe the party is best placed to run the city’s municipalities. The exit polls, however, seem to show that governance doesn’t matter to people. Infinitely more important is the messaging, through which, with a little help from the media, a pan-India leadership cult has been created, and an impression made that the BJP is impossible to trounce, thereby underscoring the sheer futility of voting for anyone else.

It is true that exit polls have gone wrong in the past. They may still in Delhi.
 

Kejriwal’s time to reinvent AAP

Nevertheless, even an Aam Aadmi Party victory should not deter Kejriwal from resigning. India desperately needs a movement to counter the inimical consequences of the politics the BJP is pursuing. Providing exemplary governance in Delhi cannot be a comprehensive counter to it.
For one, Delhi is a quasi state, dependent on the mercies of the Central government, whose representative, the lieutenant governor, in his imperious conduct might be making the British administrators of yore snigger in their graves. The Aam Aadmi Party government will continue to encounter impediments in the pursuit of its goals.

For the other, Delhi does not have a distinctive regional or linguistic identity, nor is it beset with political competition among castes, the three factors largely responsible for the emergence of a clutch of state-based parties. From this perspective, Delhi’s cosmopolitan identity was precisely why the city became the home base of the Aam Aadmi Party, which did not seek votes on the basis of caste or religious or linguistic affiliations. Instead, it sought to redefine the idea of citizenry through the pursuit of a brand of politics that promised clean governance and effective delivery of services to all, but, obviously, with a special emphasis on the last man in the queue.

It was supposed to turn into a national movement, a Delhi model, so to speak, that others in India would feel encouraged to emulate. This is why Delhi surprised all in the 2013 Assembly elections, when the Aam Aadmi Party won the confidence of a large segment of Delhiites to come to power and then, a year on, went on to expand that into an overwhelming majority in the next elections.

In other words, the Aam Aadmi Party as an idea will have relevance in Delhi as long as it holds out the promise of going national. But it has the opportunity of reinventing its personality only until 2020, which is when Delhi will have its next Assembly elections. This, therefore, is just the moment for Kejriwal to launch a movement, combining some old ideas with some new ones. What ought to then be the strands of a reinvented Aam Aadmi Party movement?
 

Silent Opposition

Regardless of the BJP’s victories in Assembly elections in Uttar Pradesh and other states in March, there is disquiet in the country over the communal polarisation it has relentlessly pursued through its Hindutva philosophy, of which the most virulent manifestation is vigilantism over cow protection. No less dangerous is the fusing of Hindutva with nationalism, a combination so powerful that it has suppressed acute anxieties arising from agrarian distress, jobless growth and rampant corruption that the much-touted antidote of demonetisation – the withdrawal of high-value notes in November with the aim of flushing out black money – palpably failed to cure.

The sharp edge of Hindutva has cut many. For instance, Samajwadi Party leader and former Uttar Pradesh chief minister Akhilesh Yadav, quite sarcastically, mentioned that development no longer counts, and that he should instead daily tweet a photo of himself paying obeisance at a temple. To a person close to him, he confided, “Do we Yadavs have to now learn how to respect the cow? When I rebuilt a temple in the chief minister’s residence, did I publicise it?”

To this person, he also spoke of how he didn’t need a lesson in showing respect for the Army and subscribing to the BJP’s tenets of nationalism. After all, as Yadav pointed out, he studied in a Sainik school, some of his friends are commanding officers in the Army, and his wife belongs to an Army family. But all such credentials and the development projects he undertook did not count as the Uttar Pradesh Assembly election was turned into a Hindu-Muslim show and voting for the BJP became proof of nationalistic feelings.

But Akhilesh Yadav’s sharp articulations, made by most non-BJP politicians privately, are not heard in the public arena. This is because politics has become synonymous with electoral contests. Non-BJP politicians turn to people in the weeks before voting, thus haunted by the fear that statements countering the BJP’s religious nationalism propaganda could have the effect of further polarising the electorate. At best, therefore, they seek to turn the electorate’s focus on their agenda.

But this fails because the emotions of hate and spurious grievances inundate other competing agendas. Therefore, the BJP is in a win-win situation. It polarises society because it stands to gain. And because others shy away from countering the BJP’s Hindutva spin, its technique of mobilisation isn’t challenged. Comprehending that politics is the best medium of educating the people, the Sangh has a year-long programme of disseminating its political ideas.

This can only be challenged through a counter-movement, of which the principal ingredients have to be a battle for Hinduism and nationalism. These can be expressed through a chain of questions: Who is a devout Hindu? Is it he who kills in the name of the cow? What do we do with cattle that have stopped yielding milk and have become an economic burden on farmers? Do we require the political ideology of Hinduism? Do we need an exclusivist, destructive nationalism? Through which model of governance can an inclusivist idea of nationalism be nurtured?

Two recent incidents show just how fearful Opposition politicians have become.

In Saharanpur, BJP MP Raghav Lakhanpal’s alleged insistence on leading an Ambedkar Jayanti yatra through a communally fraught locality led to communal clashes on Thursday. Despite her clamour for Dalit-Muslim unity, Bahujan Samaj Party leader Mayawati hasn’t visited the site of the clashes yet.
And in Delhi on Saturday night, three Muslim men were beaten up, reportedly in the presence of the police, for ferrying buffaloes. A first information report has been filed against the victims while the assailants had not been caught at the time of writing this piece. In a city bustling with politicians with national stature, none have had the courage to mount public pressure on the police to explain their conduct.

It isn’t that non-BJP politicians are not dismayed at the turn Indian polity has taken. But they have been silent because they fear their intervention would be perceived as Muslim appeasement and would incite the passion of Hindus. But such apprehensions persist among politicians because they haven’t educated their followers on what is at stake in the BJP’s appropriation of Hinduism and advocacy of Hindu nationalism.
 

Man for the job

Given that Kejriwal is steeped in activism and given his ability to organise and agitate – which was why the anti-corruption movement of 2011 for a Jan Lokpal Bill to hold government officials accountable became such a success – he is just the person to trigger a debate over Hinduism and nationalism. Not just in TV studios or in newspapers columns, but among the people.

Kejriwal ought to be the man to lead it because the bug of power hasn’t presumably bitten him. Self-avowedly, he has often harped on the fact that he and his party are in electoral politics not for power but to transform polity and build a better India.

All this doesn’t mean that the Aam Aadmi Party cannot continue to govern Delhi. That responsibility can devolve on Sisodia. He, in his quiet way, can continue to administer the city-state while Kejriwal plays the role of the conscientious challenger and political educator of the masses.

Indeed, the Aam Aadmi Party is often torn between providing governance in Delhi and playing the Opposition role nationally. Many, rather wrongly, accuse it of frittering away its energies in the quest to achieve its political ambition. By resigning as Delhi chief minister, Kejriwal would eject this duality.
What would Kejriwal think of the suggestion that he should resign?

On April 7, noted sports writer Pradeep Magazine retweeted author Krishan Partap Singh’s tweet with the following comment, “Maybe time to give up power and educate people once again @ArvindKejriwal. Vote does not represent people’s voice.”
 

Among the 489 people who retweeted Magazine’s message was Arvind Kejriwal himself.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid.

This article was first published on Scroll.in

For all her clamour to forge a Dalit-Muslim social alliance before Uttar Pradesh went to the polls, Bahujan Samaj Party leader Mayawati has been inexplicably indifferent to the strike by the meat industry to protest the closing down of abattoirs and sealing of retail shops in the state. It would seem that Mayawati’s vision of subaltern politics is confined to gathering votes of Muslims and forgetting them till the next election is round the corner.

It might seem unfair to hurl this charge against Mayawati alone. After all, in the February-March Assembly elections, both the Samajwadi Party and the Congress entered into an electoral alliance to consolidate the Muslims of Uttar Pradesh behind them. Neither has been provoked to take to the streets now.

Yet any criticism of the three parties against their inaction on the meat issue in Uttar Pradesh must begin with Mayawati. Given the radical possibility of Dalit-Muslim unity – the first manifestation of which was BP Maurya winning on the Republican Party of India ticket in Aligarh in 1962 – Mayawati rekindled hopes of it through her election speeches.

She never failed to remind us that she had given a whopping 100 tickets to Muslims, and sought to convince the community that should it align with her Dalit supporters, the Bahujan Samaj Party would become a bulwark against the Hindutva storm. She assumed that Muslims would not want proof of her having worked for them before they bought into the Dalit-Muslim unity call of hers.

Her clarion call for Dalit-Muslim unity lacked in credibility as she had not even cared to visit Muzaffarnagar in 2013, when it was rocked by bloody riots. Perhaps she believed an expression of sympathy for Muslims would outrage the Hindu self of Dalit voters.

After all, in 21st century India, visiting Muslims whose loved ones have been killed, wounded or raped is likely to be construed as a policy of appeasing them, of ignoring Hindus, whether Dalits or upper castes. We do not expect politicians to take this risk, not even those who have pretensions of effecting social transformation.

But the politics of meat unfolding in Uttar Pradesh does not have this risk because the meat in question is not beef, but chicken, mutton and buffalo. The politics in this state is more about Hindutva’s passion for vegetarianism, upholding the tradition that frowns on meat, and weakening the economic base of the upwardly-mobile Qureshi community.

This has prompted the rabble rouser-turned-Chief Minister Adityanath to create a Catch-22 situation. It is the municipality’s responsibility to ensure that hygienic conditions are maintained in abattoirs, for which a fee is charged for every animal slaughtered. But municipalities are notorious for not discharging their duties, because of which slaughterhouses have supposedly become intolerably unhygienic.

So these have been closed down and meat shops sealed, even those that have the requisite licence. If there isn’t a slaughterhouse running, shopkeepers can access meat only through illegal ones. Better to close them down then. They have been penalised for the municipality’s dereliction of duty.

Stung by the irrationality of the Hindutva regime, the Muslim subgroup of Jamiatul Quresh has gone on a strike, quite understandable as its members dominate the meat trade. Should its charter of demands not be met by April 20, it will extend the meat strike to all India.
 

Mayawati’s inaction

But against the political perfidy of the Adityanath government, Mayawati does not have a speech to deliver, whether from a pre-prepared text or extempore. Here is her opportunity to cobble Dalit-Muslim unity. While the Qureshis dominate the retail meat trade, the animal skins are sent to tanneries which Dalits own or in which they are employed in large numbers. Meat, including beef, is also not taboo for Dalits.
 

It is hard to explain Mayawati’s inaction on the meat issue. Perhaps she fears her support for meat would be projected as a policy of appeasing Muslims that might eventually alienate a segment of her core support group of Dalits.

Yet another reason was provided by a key Bahujan Samaj Party functionary in West Uttar Pradesh.

“The cadres are being told that Brahmins feel alienated because a Rajput has been made a chief minister,” the functionary said. “Mayawati thinks the Brahmins can still be won over.” This suggests that Mayawati does not wish to plunge into the politics of meat with a counter-narrative perhaps because she fears it would not be to the liking of Brahmins.

Either way then, for this champion of subaltern assertion, the interests of Muslims must be subordinated to those of Hindu social groups. It is altogether a different matter that a 2014 government survey showed that over 50% of Uttar Pradesh ate meat. Dalits and Muslims together constitute roughly 40% of the state. Since both have a large chunk of poor who cannot afford meat, consumption of it can be said to cut across religious and caste divides.
 

SP and Congress silent too

In this extraordinary display of pusillanimity and chicanery, just about every political leader in India is implicated. Take the Samajwadi Party’s Akhilesh Yadav, whose family acquired heft because of Muslim support. Yet he has not come out on the streets to protest against the closure of abattoirs and meat shops.

It is easy to see why. His core supporters are Yadavs, who, because of their traditional occupation of animal husbandry, were principal supporters of the Gau Rakshini Sabhas at the time these mushroomed in the late 19th century. They still are – many of those accused of killing the Muslim man in Alwar for ferrying cows were Yadavs.

Since the vigilantism over the anti-cow slaughter has framed the debate over meat in Uttar Pradesh, Akhilesh Yadav is perhaps paranoid that in batting for non-beef meat he would be sending a wrong signal to the vegetarians among Yadavs, his core supporters, and the upwardly mobile among them who are said to have become amenable to Hindutva. Silence is therefore Yadav’s favoured strategy.

It is hard to expect the Congress to take to the streets. Not only is the party moribund organisationally, it still has a nostalgia for its Brahminical past, which it hopes will one day become its present as well. The Brahminical position, revised over many centuries, is that meat should be shunned. It is altogether a different matter that Brahmins in East Uttar Pradesh and Bihar, as in many parts of India, love their mutton and fish.
 

It, therefore, does not surprise that only Muslims are left to rage over the meat crackdown in isolation. Because the Jamiatul Quresh is a caste-occupational association, it cannot possibly draw other Muslim and Hindu consumers of meat, or even vegetarians who might feel food is a matter of choice, to join its protests. This only the political parties can.
 

Politics of meat as a test

But they will not because of their unfounded fears of alienating the Hindus, many of whom have meat in their diet. Sure, the hypocritical, unconscionable silence of non-Hindutva parties on meat will anger Muslims. But political leaders feel in this era of resurgent Hindutva, Muslims will have no choice but to vote for one of them. They choose to fritter away their energies in fighting against each other than Hindutva.

It is to counter this dominant political psychology why a clutch of Muslim parties have surfaced. They are not stupid to not know that their chances of garnering Hindu votes in numbers that could give them a large number of seats are indeed remote. But their logic behind fielding candidates is that if they can poll a substantial share of Muslim votes, might not non-Hindutva parties fearing defeat begin to address the issues pertaining to the community?

If such Muslim parties have not yet had traction, it is only because the community has not yet given up hope on non-Hindutva parties. But, certainly, their patience is running thin, slowly being driven to desperation by the indifference of political parties that love their votes but not them.
Indeed, the politics of meat is a test for non-Hindutva parties, an opportunity for them to discover their voices and engage in criticism and protests. Otherwise, woe betide them, for they would prove they are neither anti-Hindutva nor deserving of Muslim votes, and on their way to gradually become an inverted version of “sickular.”

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid.

Courtesy: Scroll.in

“If Muslims don’t wish to have the status of slaves, if they don’t want India to become a Hindu rashtra, they will have to keep away from electoral politics for a while and, instead, concentrate on education,” Adeeb told an audience comprising mostly members of
the Aligarh Muslim University’s Old Boys Association.

It isn’t that Adeeb wanted Muslims to keep away from voting. His aim was to have Muslim intellectuals rethink the idea of contesting elections, of disabusing them of the notion that it is they who decide which party comes to power in Uttar Pradesh.

Adeeb’s suggestion, that is contrary to popular wisdom, had his audience gasping. This prompted him to explain his suggestion in greater detail.

“We Muslims chose in 1947 not to live in the Muslim rashtra of Pakistan,” he said. “It is now the turn of Hindus to decide whether they want India to become a Hindu rashtra or remain secular. Muslims should understand that their very presence in the electoral fray leads to a communal polarisation. Why?”

Not one to mince words, Adeeb answered his question himself.

“A segment of Hindus hates the very sight of Muslims,” he said. “Their icon is Narendra Modi. But 75% of Hindus are secular. Let them fight out over the kind of India they want. Muslim candidates have become a red rag to even secular Hindus who rally behind the Bharatiya Janata Party, turning every election into a Hindu-Muslim one.”
 

Later in the day, Adeeb met Congress leader Ghulam Nabi Azad, who was in Lucknow. To Adeeb, Azad asked, “Why did you deliver such a speech?”

It was now Azad’s turn to get a mouthful from Adeeb. He recalled asking Azad: “What kind of secularism is that which relies on 20% of Muslim votes? The Bahujan Samaj Party gets a percentage of it, as do the Samajwadi Party and the Congress.”

At this, Azad invited Adeeb, who was elected to the Rajya Sabha from Uttar Pradesh, to join the Congress. Adeeb rebuffed the offer saying, “First get the secular Hindus together before asking me to join.”
 

Spectre of a Hindu rashtra

A day after the Uttar Pradesh election results sent a shockwave through the Muslim community, Adeeb was brimming with anger. He said, “Syed Ahmed Bukhari [the so-called Shahi Imam of Delhi’s Jama Masjid] came to me with a question: ‘Why aren’t political parties courting me for Muslim votes?’ I advised him to remain quiet, to not interfere in politics.” Nevertheless, Bukhari went on to announce that Muslims should vote the Bahujan Samaj Party.

“Look at the results,” Adeeb said angrily. “But for Jatavs, Yadavs, and a segment of Jats, most Hindus voted [for] the Bharatiya Janata Party.” His anger soon segued into grief and he began to sob, “I am an old man. I don’t want to die in a Hindu rashtra.”

Though Adeeb has been nudging Muslims to rethink their political role through articles in Urdu newspapers, the churn among them has only just begun. It is undeniably in response to the anxiety and fear gripping them at the BJP’s thumping victory in this politically crucial state.

After all, Uttar Pradesh is the site where the Hindutva pet projects of cow-vigilantism, love jihad, and ghar wapsi have been executed with utmost ferocity. All these come in the backdrop of the grisly 2013 riots of Muzaffarnagar, which further widened the Hindu-Muslim divide inherited from the Ram Janmabhoomi movement of the 1990s and even earlier, from Partition. Between these two cataclysmic events, separated by 45 years, Uttar Pradesh witnessed manifold riots, each shackling the future to the blood-soaked past.

I spoke to around 15 Muslims, not all quoted here, each of whom introspected deeply. So forbidding does the future appear to them that none even alluded to the steep decline in the number of Muslim MLAs, down from the high of 69 elected in 2012 to just 24 in the new Uttar Pradesh Assembly.
 

They, in their own ways, echoed Adeeb, saying that the decline in representation of Muslims was preferable to having the Sangh Parivar rule over them with the spectre of Hindutva looming.

“Muslims need to become like the Parsis or, better still, behave the way the Chinese Indians do in Kolkata,” said poet Munawwar Rana. “They focus on dentistry or [their] shoe business, go out to vote on polling day and return to work.”

He continued: “And Muslims?” They hold meetings at night, cook deghs (huge vessels) of biryani, and work themselves into a frenzy. “They think the burden of secularism rests on their shoulders,” said Rana. “Educate your people and make them self-reliant.”
Readers would think Adeeb, Rana and others are poor losers, not generous enough to credit the BJP’s overwhelming victory in Uttar Pradesh to Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s development programme. In that case readers should listen to Sudhir Panwar, the Samajwadi Party candidate from Thana Bhawan in West Uttar Pradesh, who wrote for Scroll.in last week on the communal polarisation he experienced during his campaign.

In Thana Bhawan, there were four principal candidates – Suresh Rana, accused in the Muzaffarnagar riots, stood on the BJP ticket; Javed Rao on the Rashtriya Lok Dal’s; Abdul Rao Waris on the Bahujan Samaj Party’s, and Panwar on the Samajwadi Party’s. It was thought that the anger of Jats against the BJP would prevent voting on religious lines in an area where the Muslim-Hindu divide runs deep.

This perhaps prompted Rana to play the Hindu card, and the Muslims who were more inclined to the Rashtriya Lok Dal switched their votes to the Bahujan Samaj Party, believing that its Dalit votes would enhance the party’s heft to snatch Thana Bhawan.
 

Communal polarisation

Sample how different villages voted along communal lines.

In the Rajput-dominated Hiranwada, the Bahujan Samaj Party bagged 14 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal not a single vote, the Samajwadi Party seven, and the Bharatiya Janata Party a whopping 790.

In Bhandoda, a village where the Brahmins are landowners and also dominate its demography, followed by Dalits, the Bahujan Samaj Party secured 156 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal zero, the Samajwadi Party nine, and the Bharatiya Janata Party 570.

In the Muslim-dominated Jalalabad, the Bahujan Samaj Party received 453 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal 15, the Samajwadi Party 6 and the Bharatiya Janata Party 23.

In Pindora, where Jats are 35% and Muslims around 30% of the population, the Bahujan Samaj Party polled 33 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal 482, the Samajwadi Party 33, and the Bharatiya Janata Party 278, most of which is said to have come from the lower economically backward castes.

In Devipura, where the Kashyaps are numerous, the Bahujan Samaj Party got 86 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal 42, the Samajwadi Party 1 and the Bharatiya Janata Party 433.

In Oudri village, where the Jatavs are in the majority, the Bahujan Samaj Party bagged 343 votes, the Rashtriya Lok Dal 15, the Samajwadi Party 12, and the Bharatiya Janata Party 22.

This voting pattern was replicated in village after village. Broadly, the Jat votes split between the Bharatiya Janata Party and the Rashtriya Lok Dal, the Muslim votes consolidated behind the Bahujan Samaj Party, with the Samajwadi Party getting a slim share in it, the Jatavs stood solidly behind the Bahujan Samaj Party, and all others simply crossed over to the Bharatiya Janata Party. The BJP’s Suresh Rana won the election from Thana Bhawan.

“Can you call this election?” asked Panwar rhetorically. “It is Hindu-Muslim war through the EVM [Electronic Voting Machine].” Panwar went on to echo Adeeb: “I feel extremely sad when I say that Muslims will have to keep away from contesting elections. This seems to be the only way of ensuring that elections don’t turn into a Hindu-Muslim one.”

The Bahujan Samaj Party’s Waris differed. “Is it even practical?” he asked. “But yes, Muslims should keep a low profile.”
 

Hindu anger against Muslims

For sure, Muslims feel that the binary of secularism-communalism has put them in a bind. Lawyer Mohd Shoaib, who heads the Muslim Rihai Manch, pointed to the irony of it. “For 70 years, we Muslims have fought against communalism,” he said. “But it has, nevertheless, grown by 70 times.”

Indeed, those with historical perspective think Uttar Pradesh of 2017 mirrors the political ambience that existed there between 1938 and 1946 – a seemingly unbridgeable Hindu-Muslim divide, a horrifyingly communalised public discourse, and a contest for power based on mobilisation along religious lines.

Among them is Mohammad Sajjad, professor of history at Aligarh Muslim University. “The 69 MLAs in the last Assembly was bound to, and did, raise eyebrows,” he said.

But what irks Hindus even more is that Muslims constitute nearly one-third of all members in panchayats and local urban bodies. “It is they who have become a sore point with Hindus,” said Sajjad. “When they see Muslim panchayat members become examples of the rags-to-riches story, the majority community feels aggrieved. It is not that Hindu panchayat members are less corrupt. But every third panchayat member being Muslim has given credibility to the narrative that Muslims are being favoured.”

The Hindu angst against Muslim empowerment is also on account of both the Bahujan Samaj Party and the Samajwadi Party being popularly perceived to be indifferent to the aspirations of certain subaltern social groups. For instance, it is this indifference that has led to non-Jatav Dalits and most backward castes, clubbed under the Other Backward Classes for reservations, to leave the Bahujan Samaj Party, as non-Yadav middle castes have left the Samajwadi Party. They did so in response to Mayawati turning hers into primarily the party of Jatavs, and the Samajwadi Party pursuing the Yadavisation of the administration.

“These aspirational Hindu groups are angry with the SP [Samajwadi Party] and the BSP [Bahujan Samaj Party],” said Sajjad. “Their anger against them also turned into anger against Muslims.” This is because it is popularly felt that the support of Muslims to the Bahujan Samaj Party and the Samajwadi Party brings them to power, turning these parties callously indifferent to the aspirations of other groups.

It is to neutralise the efficacy of Muslim votes, and also to teach their parties of choice a lesson, that these aspirational groups have flocked to the BJP. “This is why the very presence of Muslims in the political arena has become problematic for Hindus,” Sajjad said.

So then, should Muslims take Adeeb’s cue and retreat from the political arena or at least keep a low profile?

Sajjad replied, “Go ahead and vote the party of your choice. But after that, play the role of a citizen. If people don’t get electricity, protest with others. You can’t be forgiving of those for whom you voted only because they can keep the BJP out of power. This is what angers aspirational Hindu social groups.”
 

Indeed, it does seem a travesty of justice and democracy that Muslims should rally behind the Samajwadi Party in Muzaffarnagar after the riots there. Or that they voted for the Bahujan Samaj Party in Thana Bhawan in such large numbers even though Mayawati didn’t even care to visit the Muslim families who suffered unduly during the riots.
 

Introspection and self-criticism

Like Sajjad’s, most narratives of Muslims have a strong element of self-criticism. Almost all vented their ire against Muslim clerics. Did they have to direct Muslims which party they should vote for? Didn’t they know their recklessness would trigger a Hindu polarisation?

Unable to fathom their irresponsible behaviour, some plump for conspiracy theories. It therefore doesn’t come as a surprise to hear Obaidullah Nasir, editor of the Urdu newspaper Avadhnama, say, “They take money from the Bharatiya Janata Party to create confusion among Muslims. I got abused for writing this. But how else can you explain their decision to go public with their instructions to Muslims?”

Poet Ameer Imam, who teaches in a college in the Muslim-dominated Sambhal constituency, said, “Muslims will have to tell the maulanas that their services are required in mosques, not in politics. When Muslims applaud their rabble rousers, can they complain against those in the BJP?”

To this, add another question: When Mayawati spoke of Dalit-Muslim unity, didn’t Muslims think it would invite a Hindu backlash?
 

Most will assume, as I did too, that Muslims fear the communal cauldron that Uttar Pradesh has become will be kept on the boil. But this is not what worries them. Not because they think the Bharatiya Janata Party in power will change its stripes, but because they fear Muslims will feel so cowered that they will recoil, and live in submission. “Our agony arises from being reduced to second-class citizens, of becoming politically irrelevant,” said journalist Asif Burney.

True, members of the Muslim community are doing a reality-check and are willing to emerge from the fantasy world in which they thought that they decided which party won an election. The Uttar Pradesh results have rudely awakened them to the reality of being a minority, of gradually being reduced to political insignificance, and their status as an equal citizen – at least in their imagination – challenged and on the way to being undermined.

But this does not mean they wish to enter yet another world of fantasy, which journalist and Union minister MJ Akbar held out to them in the piece he penned for the Times of India on March 12. Akbar wrote,
 

“…[T]his election was not about religion; it was about India, and the elimination of its inherited curse, poverty. It was about good governance.”
 

One of those whom I spoke to laughed uproariously on hearing me repeat Akbar’s lines. So you can say that with them believing their future is darkled, Muslims at least haven’t lost their humour.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid. It is available in bookstores.

This article was first published on Scroll.in

Given India’s bloody communal past, it should not surprise us one bit to discover that the ongoing Uttar Pradesh Assembly election has been belatedly polarised between Hindus and Muslims. This is because India, particularly Uttar Pradesh, has always had a strong communal undercurrent, which at times breaks to the surface in irrepressible tides of blood that bathe its cities and towns.

Partition was an example of it: competitive politics built around the idea of separatism triggered a veritable holocaust in which countless perished. The idea of separatism gained wide currency because it was a manifestation of the socio-cultural cocoons in which Hindus and Muslims lived, their interaction rife with suspicion.

The bloodletting during Partition spawned the hope that our politicians would seek to bridge the gap between communities, not widen it, eschew communal mobilisation that enhances the degree of separation existing at a point of time between them. Crafting a riot is the most effective method of communal mobilisation, which the Indian political class took recourse to within a decade of the first general election in 1951-’52.

From Jabalpur in 1961, often cited as the first big riot post-Partition, we have erected several tombstones mourning the blood spilled in Hindu-Muslim violence. On these tombstones are etched the names of Ranchi, Jamshedpur, Bhiwandi, Tellicherry, Meerut, Moradabad, Biharsharif, Bhagalpur, Jaipur, Bombay, Gujarat, Muzaffarnagar, etc. Add to this the tension and violence under which much of North India reeled during the three stages of the Ram Janmabhoomi movement – the shilanyas yatra of 1989, Bharatiya Janata Party leader LK Advani’s rath yatra of 1990, and the demolition of the Babri Masjid in 1992.

By comparison, the current communal polarisation in Uttar Pradesh pales into insignificance. Yet media reports have lamented the division between Hindus and Muslims, and noted, with alarm, the reluctance of Hindus to vote for Muslim candidates and vice-versa. But even this trend isn’t new. This is why Muslims are rarely fielded from constituencies in which their community is around 10% or so.

For instance, the Congress thought it prudent to field Maulana Abdul Kalam Azad from the Muslim-dominated Rampur in India’s first Lok Sabha election, much to his dismay. The maulana believed he wasn’t just a leader of Muslims, but of the nation as such, deserving of support of all. He had, after all, battled the Muslim League during the great Partition debate of the 1940s. His own self-assessment was rudely undermined in Independent India’s very first tryst with democracy.
 

Changing role of communalism

This backdrop raises the question: Why is it that communal polarisation of relatively low intensity today alarms us more today than it did in previous decades? The short answer to it is that the role of communalism and the popular perception of it have changed since the late 1980s.

Until then, in what is called the era of Congress dominance, riots were localised and strategic. They were localised in the sense that they affected a district or two-three constituencies. Many of these communal conflagrations were triggered even then by Hindu rightwing groups, at times though in connivance with Congress leaders. Either the Congress-led administration was inept in controlling them or deliberately allowed it to teeter out of control, as so many Commissions of Inquiry in their reports concluded.

These riots were strategic in nature because it was a ploy of local Congress leaders to polarise the electorate to bolster their chances of notching electoral victories. But these did not constitute the meta-narrative of Congress leaders, neither at the State nor the national level. They didn’t portray the riots as an expression of justifiable Hindu assertion, and a method of showing Muslims their place.

In fact, the Congress leadership, whether hypocritically or otherwise, expressed apologies and sought to atone for riots through such measures as formation of peace committees, which aimed to repair the broken relationship between Hindus and Muslims. It was their way of ensuring that if the separateness between the two communities couldn’t be bridged, it wasn’t at least widened beyond what it was. For all these reasons, riots did not have the kind of resonance that, say, the 2002 anti-Muslim violence in Gujarat had.
 

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The only exception to the localised, strategic nature of riots in the era of Congress dominance were the anti-Sikh riots of 1984. It was pan-India. Congress leaders were implicated in fomenting it. Congress administration was guilty of idly watching Sikhs being killed with impunity. Then Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi even sought to rationalise the pogrom against Sikhs through his infamous quip: “When a big tree falls, earth shakes.”

Yet, after weeks of insanity and intemperate remarks or, as some would rather say, after securing a brute majority in the Lok Sabha in the 1985 elections, the rhetoric of the Congress no longer dripped with venom against Sikhs. Subsequently, it was seen to have atoned for its guilt by appointing Manmohan Singh as Prime Minister. On August 12, 2005, that is, 20 years later, Singh apologised to the nation in the Lok Sabha, “because what took place in 1984 is the negation of the concept of nationhood in our Constitution”.
 

Ideological communalism

By contrast, communalism and riots for the Bharatiya Janata Party, as this writer argued in a piece in the Hindu in 2013, are elemental aspects of the Sangh Parivar’s politics. Its ideology is predicated on articulating and redressing the real or imagined grievances of Hindus, which have their provenance in the medieval past or in contemporary times in which contentious issues have been manufactured.

The BJP’s ideology seeks to pit the Hindus against Muslims until the former’s grievances are addressed. But these cannot be addressed to the satisfaction of the BJP and its followers because the list of grievances is inexhaustible. Is it possible to assuage sentiments seemingly hurt by tales cherry-picked from centuries of Muslim-rule, deliberately delinked from their historical context and often fictionalised or exaggerated?

Then again, the Ram Mandir issue has been festering for long. But should it be resolved in the times to come, demands for relocating mosques abutting the Krishna and Shiv temples in Mathura and Varanasi will be raised. Apart from these pan-India Hindu symbols, disputes over places of worship having state-wide significance have been imagined – for instance, the Bhagyalakshmi temple located at the base of the Charminar monument in Hyderabad, the Babu Budangiri-Guru Dattatreya shrine in Karnataka, and the Bhojshala complex in Dhar, Madhya Pradesh.

In addition, foot soldiers of the Rashtriya Swayamsevak Sangh have sought to appropriate graveyards and shrines which scarcely have resonance beyond a district or two. Not only this, fertility rates, a Uniform Civil Code, the triple talaq practice, the Enemy Property Act, in fact anything having a faint whiff of Muslim-ness or the community’s opposition to it, is turned into examples of insult to Hindu pride and unjustified pampering of Muslims.
In other words, the Sangh’s ideology aims not only to maintain the separateness of Hindus and Muslims, but to also erect a barbed wire-fence, so to speak, between them. Unlike the strategic and localised communalism of Congress, that of the BJP is ideological and pan-India and does not seek closure. Because the BJP’s endeavour is to make permanent the separateness between Hindus and Muslims, the communal polarisation in Uttar Pradesh, relatively of a lesser intensity than experienced in the past, appears so menacing.

True, the Sangh’s ideology dates to its very inception in 1924. But its influence on the Indian psyche was marginal until 1989, when the Ram Janmabhoomi movement boosted its political fortunes and clout. Acquisition of power enhances manifold an entity’s capacity to spread its defining ideas, palpable in the link between the BJP’s rise and its growing ideological influence.
 

Middle-class support

But it is also true that the BJP’s ideological influence might not have acquired such salience but for the conversion of a large segment of the Hindu middle class to the cause of Hindutva, directly or indirectly. As such, the middle class around the world believes it is responsible for transforming society. To the Indian middle class, dominated by the Hindu upper caste, the decision to introduce reservations in jobs in 1990 seemed a setback to its agenda of transformation, not least because it sliced half of the cake that had been theirs until then.

In its anxiety, it lurched towards the BJP and its Hindutva philosophy. For one, this was because among all parties supporting reservations, the BJP was the most reluctant, manifest even as recently as in the 2016 statement of the RSS chief Mohan Bhagwat that suggested revisiting the policy of affirmative action. For the other, Hindutva’s lure for the Hindu middle class-upper caste stemmed from the possibility of that philosophy becoming a lightning rod to unite the Hindus for overcoming caste cleavages and countering subaltern assertion.

Economic liberalisation expanded the middle class, further enhancing its clout. Yet it was also gnawed by anxiety. As eminent sociologist Yogendra Singh, in an interview to Scroll.in last year, said,
 

“By nature, global studies show, that the middle class is the most nationalist class. It is also the most narrow-minded in its nationalism. This is because…it resents any force which it thinks (or threatens to) disrupt its agenda of transformation. Anxiety is a natural consequence of it… Its anxiety, in turn, inspires it to promote (narrow-minded) nationalism.”
 

Apart from the fear of subaltern assertion, the anxiety of the middle class was fanned by secessionism in Kashmir and Punjab, where religious minorities are in majority, and because of Pakistan sponsoring heinous terror attacks. Already partial to Hindutva, the middle class found in its narrow nationalism an antidote to their insecurities and anxieties.

Its members are opinion-makers whose influence is disproportionate to their numbers. It is the same middle class which, 30-40 years ago, spearheaded the agenda of bridging the separateness between communities. It is the same middle class which now thinks otherwise. No doubt, the Indian middle class isn’t a monolith – students and teachers of, say, Jawaharlal Nehru University or Ramjas College, are as much part of it. Yet it is perhaps not wrong to say that a substantial section of the middle class is now wedded to Hindutva.

The Hindutva section in the middle class isn’t apologetic or ashamed of its beliefs and feelings, openly voicing what till now had lurked beneath the surface or deliberately suppressed. Hindutva is a badge of conservative politics worn unabashedly, with pride, an observation which so many report in horror on meeting acquaintances and friends from the past. This feeling is similar to what journalists experience on listening to lawyers or doctors or academicians or engineers openly voice their hatred for Muslims, busting the myth that communalism is exclusively the passion of the poor and illiterate.
 

But all this wouldn’t have mattered for one unprecedented development during the Uttar Pradesh election campaign. For the first time in India’s electoral history, a prime minister has sought to enhance the degree of separateness between Hindus and Muslims. This was indeed the motive of Prime Minister Narendra Modi’s allusion to qabristans and shamshan ghats, as was also of BJP president Amit Shah, Modi’s most trusted lieutenant, when he coined the acronym Kasab to represent the Congress, Samajwadi Party and Bahujan Samaj Party.

With no less than the prime minister and the president of the ruling party seeking to retain if not exacerbate the degree of separateness between Hindus and Muslims, Muhammad Ali Jinnah must be laughing in his grave. After all, it was his logic that the separateness of Muslims and Hindus is unbridgeable – a condition of living in which minds and hearts are forever divided. This is why even the low-intensity communal polarisation of Uttar Pradesh frightens so many.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid.

This article was first published on Scroll.in

Image credit:  PTI

Till the time he was arrested last year for alleged corruption, Rajendra Kumar had been the Principal Secretary to Delhi’s Chief Minister, Arvind Kejriwal. In this 90-minute interview to Scroll.in, Kumar bares his heart. He speaks of his run-in with former Lieutenant Governor Najeeb Jung, the ominous messages that would be sent to him, the raid the Central Bureau of Investigation conducted on his office and residence, the people he claims were beaten to make them testify against him, the details about his arrest and suspension, and why it is important for civil servants to stand up and be counted.

What was your interaction like with Najeeb Jung, who became Delhi’s Lt Governor in July 2013, and Sheila Dikshit was then the chief minister?
I was then Secretary, Higher and Technical Education. My interaction was mostly with Sheila Dikshit and her ministers only. With the Lieutenant Governor, my interaction with him was mostly confined to formal meetings in a group.

During those days, didn’t Jung insist on bureaucrats sending files directly to him, as he was to do later with the Aam Aadmi Party government?
No, it was nothing like that. I served Delhi under the Dikshit government right through its entire tenure [which was 15 years long] but for two years. There was no system of all files going to the Lieutenant Governor. Only on the issue of transfer and posting of senior IAS [Indian Administrative Service] officers, super-time and above (that is, secretaries and above), the files would go to the LG, broadly, for his concurrence. None of the LGs differed with the proposals sent by the government. For all other officers below them, the files would be handled by ministers or the chief minister, depending upon portfolio allocation.

So when you were handling higher education at the time Dikshit was chief minister, did Jung ever summon you?
He called me once to say that he wants the files of a Vice-Chancellor of a particular university. I sent the files to him via the chief secretary. Subsequently, Jung responded saying he didn’t want these files but one which had against complaints against that Vice-Chancellor.

Who was the Vice-Chancellor?
He was the Vice-Chancellor of Delhi Technical University. I sent the file Jung wanted. But he said it didn’t contain specific complaints. He asked me to examine and bring out his misdemeanour, his misconduct, his favouritism and then put it up, again, to him. I sincerely looked into the complaints. There are always general complaints filed against almost all authorities. However, after examining the complaints against the Vice Chancellor, I concluded these complaints didn’t have a reasonable chance of being proved. I submitted the file with my observation that none of the complaints was fit to be investigated.

You made a note of it in the file?
Yes, I did, and I forgot about it. Much after I left the higher education department, I came to know that the Vice Chancellor was forced to go on leave. He did come back to Delhi Technical University for 15 days or a month, and retired thereafter. That particular VC was earlier the Director of Delhi College of Engineering for 10 years or so. A learned professor of the Indian Institute of Technology, he took the Delhi College of Engineering to great heights.

It is easy for me to figure out who the Vice Chancellor was.
Well, I don’t wish to name him. However, in my 25 years of career till then [now 27 years], I had never seen a person go after another in such a manner. The humiliation of being asked to go on leave at that level is extreme.

Then the Aam Aadmi Party formed the government after the December 2013 polls and lasted for 49 days. You were appointed as principal secretary to Chief Minister Arvind Kejriwal. Did your relationship with Jung change then?
With the chief minister, I attended some meetings with Jung. Two days after the government resigned, Jung called me. The first thing Jung said, “Rajendra, people tell me that you have identified yourself too closely with the AAP government.”

Being a person who believes in giving direct answers to direct questions, I countered, “Sir, do you also think I was too close to the AAP government?” Jung kept quiet. But it was obvious to me that he thought I had gone far beyond my call of duty.
 

Thereafter, President’s rule was imposed. Did your relationship with Jung become strained in this phase?
I moved to the Department of Urban Development, which is [a] very public oriented [entity]. His difficulties or anger or dissatisfaction, whatever you may wish to call it, with me continued. Jung gave me a show cause notice for reaching five minutes late in a meeting he had once called. I was late because I was in a meeting with the chief secretary. I had assumed the chief secretary too was supposed to attend the meeting. That was the first show cause notice I had ever been served in my life.

Other than this show cause notice, did his anger or dissatisfaction with you become obvious
In meetings, his behaviour towards me was what you can call a bit stern. But I continued with my work in the best possible manner. During President’s Rule, all MLAs, irrespective of their party affiliations, would come to me, primarily, for executing scheme under the MLA Local Area Development.

Did Jung have complaints that your were helping AAP MLAs?
No, but I suppose – and I can’t know that – he perhaps thought AAP wouldn’t come to power again. I say this because once AAP came to power again, in 2015, Jung’s behaviour towards me became very, very different than what it was during President’s rule.

Did he write your Annual Confidential Report during President’s rule?
He graded everyone outstanding, including me. In that respect, he was very kind to all of us. However, after AAP came back to power and I was back as principal secretary to the chief minister, I found he was very uncomfortable with me during two-three meetings, which were held in a group and were not one-to-one.

In these meetings, Jung would say, “Rajendra, come and meet me.” On each occasion I replied, “Sir, I am always there.” A few times, I sought an appointment with him because LG, after all, is the executive head. However, I never got an appointment with him.

What could have been his idea to ask you to meet him and yet not give you an appointment
You will have to ask him that, but I suppose he wished to make a public expression of supporting or liking me even thought he perhaps personally never felt that way.

Did you sense Jung was gunning for you before it all blew up? Let us go chronologically – of complaints being filed and you being raided and…
AAP formed its second government in February 2015, and from April onwards, I used to get messages that I am misguiding the government.

From whom did you get these messages?
From different officers.

From whom were these messages coming?
The Lieutenant Governor. But I ignored these message because as a staff officer of the chief minister, who has a council of ministers, and if they seek my advice, it my duty to give it. In fact, it is my duty to give advice even if they don’t seek it, for instance, on a better way of doing things. This normally comes to you after some years of administrative experience.

There was also the issue of my holding the charge of home secretary. A duly authenticated order of the services department gave me this charge. Even then, messages were communicated to me, besides notices and orders from the chief secretary.

What did these notices say?
These notices said that I shouldn’t look into the files of the home department. I asked the Chief Secretary, in writing, to the effect, “Please sir, there is a duly authenticated order and if you don’t want me to work, I don’t have any issue at all. But please, kindly have the order withdrawn.”

He would verbally tell me not to look into the files, but I said that as long as the order wasn’t withdrawn, I would be guilty of misconduct and non-performance of my duty. The home department is anyway a difficult department to work in. Later on, the order was withdrawn and I stopped looking into the files of the home department. The correspondence between the Chief Secretary and me exists.

This was when?
May 2015. Many reports were also sent by the LG to the Union Home Ministry, and I am given to believe that he personally briefed people in that ministry about the so-called misconduct of mine.

Was it spelt out what your misconduct was all about?
I have notes and letters sent by the LG. These are very general in nature. These would say that my behaviour is unbecoming of an officer of my seniority. It was never specific. My reply to the show-cause notice given by the Home Ministry…

What was this show cause notice about?
It asked me to explain why I looked after the work of the home department despite having received instructions to the contrary from the Chief Secretary.

My reply to the show-cause went into several pages. In it, I raised questions extremely pertinent to the civil service. I said, “Sir, kindly guide, for there is a duly authenticated order and I am being verbally asked not to follow that order. You are the Chief Secretary and I am secretary. What’s government in this context isn’t at all clear to me.” The simplest thing was to withdraw that order. But I was told, no, no, simply follow what you are being told.

Why was the Chief Secretary asking you not look after the home department?
There is a 1998 Presidential Order, which prescribed that on reserved subjects of land, public order and police [which falls in the jurisdiction of the Central government], the files will be submitted through the chief minister. In pursuance of that Presidential Order, the chief minister [Kejriwal] issued instructions that all such files [pertaining to reserved subjects] should be sent through him [to LG]. I think that was what Jung didn’t like. He perhaps thought that it was I who advised Kejriwal to issue the order.

But even if I had advised the chief minister to do so, I would be deemed to have advised correctly as there was a Presidential Order to that effect. To threaten officers for giving advice which is inconvenient to you (LG) is not what our system is. Our system runs on rules, regulations and set patterns. The matter went to the Home Ministry, which then issued me the show-cause notice.

To which you just said you replied.
Yes, after which they issued a final order. Once again, it reiterated that I shouldn’t have continued to look after the files of the Home Department despite the Chief Secretary advising me. They never clarified the points I had raised in my lengthy reply. They disregarded that.

Instead, they issued an advisory that I should be more careful in the future. [Decoded], it meant I shouldn’t advice the chief minister properly. I should not, as a staff officer, do what I am required to do under the law. [To dissuade me], they had to find something else.

Which was what?
In June 2015, they forcibly posted an officer to the Anti-corruption Bureau, which, so to speak, went under their control. In September, the Anti-Corruption Bureau called me for a month.

Every day?
No, I was called five or six times. The purpose was to indirectly give me a warning that…

Could you describe what these indirect warnings were?
They found that I had been transport commissioner for three months, between November and January, in 2012-2013. In the year 2002, the transport department had given a contract for [implementing] CNG [Compressed Natural Gas] fitness issues. The Anti-Corruption Bureau was examining was whether or not the contract had been properly awarded. In December 2012, they filed an FIR [First Information Report], which had nothing to do with me as I hadn’t been in the transport department in 2002.

In September 2015, however, the Anti-Corruption Bureau wanted to know why I didn’t cancel that contract in Dec 2012 and Jan 2013 after the FIR had been filed. I explained to them that there is no law which calls for cancelation of contracts after the filing of an FIR [as it does not mean that the person against whom it has been filed is guilty].

Was the contract cancelled after you left the transport department in January 2013?
For the next two years, I am sure it wasn’t. I am also sure my successors were not summoned to the Anti-Corruption Bureau and grilled.

And the Anti-Corruption Bureau was under Jung’s control?
It was completely under his control. After that, as is known, a person made a complaint to the Anti-Corruption Bureau. That complaint was transferred to the Central Bureau of Investigation, and then the raids happened in December.

Didn’t this complaint pertain to contracts given by you to Endeavour Systems Pvt Ltd.?
Yes, but I can’t talk about the details of the case as the matter is before the court.
 

When did you start getting summons from the CBI?
The CBI never questioned me. The CBI manual says that when there is a complaint, it has to conduct a form of preliminary inquiry. Let us say that the CBI did conduct an inquiry into the complaint which the Anti-corruption Bureau had transferred to it. In that case, they either found something or nothing at all. If they hadn’t found anything, they couldn’t register a case. If they had, then they would have registered a case on the findings of the inquiry. They did neither. The FIR that the CBI filed against me mentions only oral information. It doesn’t even state when that information came to them. Even the special judge court found it unusual.

When was this FIR filed?
It was filed on December 14, 2015 by the CBI. They were in such a hurry that they registered it (the case) on the 14th, obtained a search warrant the same evening, and on the 15th morning searched my house, my office, and the chief minister’s Office.

Weren’t you expecting this blowback? Didn’t you between September and December feel, even once, why you were getting into all this?
Maybe I am naïve. My trust in the government system was so high that I never thought these things were possible.

The search or raid must have come as a shock to you and the family.
It was definitely a shock. They searched the entire house, opened all almirahs, took out all the stuff in there, looked up the rooms where my helpers stay, looked into drains, even the cars parked outside. The media people were there…

I suppose the media had been told about the raids beforehand.
I suppose so. This is a rich neighbourhood [Maharani Bagh, which also has government quarters]. The search party thought that the cars parked by the road running past my house were mine as well. They wanted to search these cars until they were told that I wasn’t their owner.

Did they check your computers and laptop?
They did, they seized my laptop, my mobile, my iPad.

In complete breach of your privacy?
The search warrant said that they had to obtain the data of electronic devices I used. Had I been careful, or the search hadn’t been a surprise, I would have been able to save my gmail account, which they took control of. I am among those rare persons who pay to gmail for an extra 100 GB storage capacity.

What do you mean by saying that they took over your gmail account?
They asked for my password, and then they changed it, even the questions that constitute the process of recovering your password in case you forget it.

Is your gmail account still inaccessible to you?
It still remains inaccessible. All my life is on it. I had the habit of scanning all my documents and storing it in my gmail account. I had to restart my life. My personal photographs, even the letters my wife wrote to me, because the ink on paper fades and I wanted to preserve that memory. I have no access to them. I don’t know how much they have seen.

More importantly, how much of it hasn’t been deleted?
I have filed a request in the special judge’s court that I should be allowed to recover my gmail account. This is in violation of the Information Technology Act, which doesn’t allow unauthorised changing of passwords.

Maybe, you should have monitored them at the time they asked your password.
I even told them that my password would require an SMS on my mobile phone. But I was so confident, I thought if they want to see my email, let them see it.

How long did the search last?
The search was over in two-three hours, but they have a very lengthy procedure of documentation…

Were the people in the search team talking to…?
They were reporting every five minutes what was happening here. That was being passed to the media, which was reporting the search live. They did everything possible to malign me, pass right or wrong information. A few TV channels reported that the house I lived in was worth Rs 50 crore.

That is because your house is located in Maharani Bagh, counted among Delhi’s posh colonies.
They even reported that five or six expensive vehicles have been found outside my house.

Obviously, they didn’t disclose that your house is owned by the government.
They didn’t disclose that. Tell me, who could have been feeding such information to the media other than members of the search team?

There was also talk about liquor being seized from your house.
It is my personal choice whether or not I drink.

Delhi, anyway, doesn’t have prohibition.
Yes, but there is a limit to the amount of liquor an individual can posses.

What’s the limit?
It is 9 litres for hard liquor [whiskey, rum, vodka] and 18 litres for beer and wine. These are limits for every individual above the age of 25. They found 14 litres of liquor at my house. Although my in-laws were also there in the house then, my wife and I are permanent residents. My house, therefore, could legitimately have 18 litres. I told them that.

You knew this rule?
I knew it. I have worked in the government. I don’t know who were guiding the CBI people – they were under the impression that nobody in Delhi can keep a bottle of liquor without obtaining a government permit.

By that token, the entire city of Delhi would be in infringement.
(Laughs) They called over a guy from the excise department. But he wrote down facts – that the individual limit is 9 litres, that 14 litres were found in a house having two adults above the age of 25. Although my in-laws were also there, it was good they did not drag them into it. Later on, I found that they added one more section to it. It is a section which has been used just seven-eight times in the last 50 years. This section pertains to smuggling of liquor. I was accused of smuggling liquor.

Smuggled from where?
That is matter of proof. You must have heard a Commissioner of Delhi Police once say that a person has to prove his innocence. It puts the jurisprudence on its head, that is, they have registered a case against me for smuggling liquor and I have to prove I did not smuggle it.

Did they leave your residence by the evening of Dec 15, 2015?
They left by evening, but they asked me to come along to the CBI headquarters. I went. I was taken to the DIG’s [Deputy Inspector General’s] room. The DIG was watching TV.

That DIG was Sanjeev Gautam?
Yes. The news about the search on my residence was there on TV. His first reaction was, “Why don’t you tell your chief minister not to use the kind of language he is employing? [Kejriwal had tweeted,”Modi is a coward and a psychopath.”]

I was aghast. I told Gautam he is chief minister, it is for him to decide what he wants to speak, how can I stop him?

Gautam said, “You work for him, you guide him, you advise him, and now you are saying you can’t advise him?”

Did you know Gautam beforehand?
I had never met him. He then said, “I understand there are criminal cases against you?” I said I didn’t. Gautam said he had information that I had been called by the CBI earlier as well. I have never been called by any agency before, I said. After an hour or two, I was told I could return home, but I should return to the headquarters the next morning.

What was the night like at home?
My friends and relatives were there. They were very worried.

Did these friends also include some from your service as well?
Yes, they were there as well. They were worried because they were sure I would be arrested. When you start to abuse the process of law, then there is no limit. When you can file a false FIR, misguide the court to obtain a search warrant, when you can search the office, well… I don’t want to speak on the legality and motive of searching my office except that even if I did something between 2007 and 2012, the files wouldn’t have been kept in that office but in the departments from which contracts were granted.

Was it to find out something against Kejriwal?
I wouldn’t want to speculate on their motives, but the next morning when I went over to the CBI headquarters, they said they didn’t have anything against me…

‘They’, meaning Gautam?
Gautam and another CBI inspector. They said I could be free if I so want but only that I would have to give things and evidence which could implicate Person X.

They didn’t spell out X’s name?
They did.

So was X Arvind Kejriwal?
Yes.

They said that without ambiguity?
Yes, they did. Not only then, but on all the five days they called me.

Are you saying that after five days, they stopped harassing you?
They didn’t call me, but just about everyone I knew, they called… They went into my past…

You mean to say even those who weren’t in government service?
Everybody. They called almost 300 to 400 people.

300-400 people!
I don’t think they have called so many people even in the coal or 2G scams.

This is where their possession of your gmail account must have come handy, for tracking down people whom you know.
Before they raided my house, they had nothing. From my gmail account, they stumbled upon a mail from a person saying that such and such housing society is coming up and whether I would like to become a member of it. Even the person who had sent this mail was called.

Did the sender of this mail know you?
He knew me – and for a very long time. He is a co-accused as of now. That housing project has 350 flats, and even at the time of recession, they sold 300 of those. Of the 300 purchasers, they called almost 175 of them. They were mostly government officials. To each of them, they said your property belongs to Rajendra Kumar and that they were holding it as benami.

The person would plead that he didn’t even know me. To it, they would ask him to prove ownership. All these 175 people had to submit proof of purchase. But it didn’t end there. They would inquire whether they had intimated the government about the purchase. They would then bring their notice of intimation.

Three or four of them hadn’t, as it often happens, because they were lazy. They filed disproportionate asset cases against them. They went as far as beating some of them.

Beaten up whom? A few of the nearly 175 people they summoned?
At least, a dozen of them were beaten up. They were beaten severely, not once, but over multiple days.

Were the people who were beaten closer to you than others who were not?
No, they were on a look out for those who seemed to have money and who could therefore say that their money belonged to Rajendra Kumar.

So they were harsher on those who were relatively wealthier?
Yes. One person was slapped so hard that he underwent a permanent loss of hearing. He said this in the court.

Whose doing was it?
The person who lost his hearing was slapped by a DSP [Deputy Superintendent of Police] from the CBI. When I was taken into police custody [in July 2016], I had once seen them beat a person, a co-accused, who was made to stand on his feet, asked to raise his arms, and they beat him up from behind. He later told me that they wanted him to become approver, name me.

None of these guys who were beaten up agreed?
One of them did. It is a person who I have never met. He is not one of the accused.
 

How many accused are there in the CBI case, which pertains to the contracts given to Endeavour Systems Pvt Ltd?
There are seven besides me. They went to my ancestral house in Patna. It was purchased by my father before my birth. They went to my house in Greater Noida, which was on rent. They threatened the tenant, who left even before the expiry of rent lease. They went after the Chartered Accountant who used to file my tax returns.

He would come to me once every year, in July, at my office. They obtained his number from my mobile phone which they seized once they took me into police custody. They raided the CA’s house and found Rs 27 lakh. I don’t know whose money it was.

I suppose those who were beaten must have been bitter about it. What did they tell you?
They never told me anything. They were co-accused in the initial FIR that was filed on December 14, 2015. There were five of them. Two others were added to the chargesheet they filed in the case, one of the names was dropped. All that I know about the chargesheet is through newspapers. I haven’t yet got a copy of the chargesheet. But it wasn’t as if only the co-accused were beaten.

What was it like to be taken into police custody in July 2016? It must have shaken you.
Definitely not. But first, why did they need to arrest me in July? After all, they had, by March, stopped calling people and beating them up in the hope that they would implicate me somehow. My guess is that I continued working as hard as I used to. They wanted to remove me from there [as Kejriwal’s principal secretary]. Since I had continued to work, they thought once I was arrested I will get suspended. They succeeded in achieving their purpose.

Did you ever come close to cracking up?
You see, I had answers to all their questions. There was just a bidding of theirs I wouldn’t do – and that was about naming the chief minister. They beat up people to force them into naming me. They arrested me to name the chief minister. After all, what was the purpose of seizing files from the Chief Minister’s office in 2015? They would show me these files and ask, “Isn’t this your signature?” I would say yes. They would then ask, “Did the chief minister ask you to sign?”

I told them it is my job to monitor schemes and projects that the chief minister has assigned. I don’t have to seek the chief minister’s approval or anybody else’s to sign on these files, as my monitoring is supposed to improve the projects.

After how many days did the suspension order come once you were arrested?
The rule says that anyone who has been in police custody for more than 48 hours, he is deemed to be under suspension. So they issued the suspension order on July 6, 2016. They knew of the arrest, so they were ready with the order. They issued just after the expiry of 48 hours.

After three months, the suspension order is supposed to be reviewed. There is a Supreme Court order, and there is a Department of Personnel, Government of India, rule as well, that if within three months in cases such as mine, a chargesheet is not served for (initiating) disciplinary proceedings, the suspension shall not be continued. But my suspension has continued.

Haven’t you moved the court on this count?
I haven’t. I will, again, say I have faith in the system. When the law itself says that the suspension cannot [be extended], why should I believe they would do otherwise? Later on, I gave a representation to the Ministry of Home Affairs, to the Chief Secretary, in the belief that in an extreme, extreme case, the government’s circular might have gone un-noticed. However, I still remain under suspension.

Doesn’t that fill you with anger?
When the raid happened, and even after my arrest, I thought to myself that if I were to ask citizens of the country whether they would change their place with me, that is, I go take their place and they take mine, with all the problems I have been entangled in, my answer was that 99% of citizens would like to take my place. This means that even in the situation that I am, I am still better off than 99% of the people of this country.
Why should I get angry then? It is the system which has failed. The most important thing for me is that when I stand before the mirror, I am able to look into my own eyes.

I will not say I have done no wrong in my life. I have fought with my sisters and friends, I might have sometime used the pen from my office for my personal use, I am not saying I have never sinned, so to speak.

So your solace in all this is that you can still look into your eyes?
Yes, and that has been my endeavour all my life. But the important point is that if the system can do what it has to me, Principal Secretary to the Chief Minister, to an IAS officer of 26-27 years of standing, who has received top awards, including the prime minister’s award for excellence in civil service – which I got in the second year of its institution – plus four national awards for e-governance, then think of what can happen to millions of people who have been wrongly framed.

I can speak out, I have people who support me, but there are millions who are framed out of vengeance, who are framed to fix them politically, think of them.

This is not the democracy we want. This is why it is necessary to tell people what has happened. What has happened may have happened physically to me, but it also tells you how agencies behave. It isn’t just the CBI, but also the Anti-Corruption Bureau, the income tax department, the Home Ministry… At one time, I was told that even the Enforcement Directorate was likely to register a case against me.

Well, what is to be done when these institutions don’t stand up? Or do you think the blame lies on the political masters?
Institutions are inanimate, and the people who run the institutions are important. The coercive powers of the state are confined to certain people – it could be the officer in-charge of a police or the tehsildar or the income tax officer – and if they stand up, then no political set-up can misuse them. Either they are too weak to stand up or they have their own issues because of which they are scared of standing up.

Can you recall a case similar to yours, in which a civil servant has been harassed to fix a political rival?
I have never seen it. My case has no precedent, as far as I can recall.

The treatment meted out to you must have scarred you.
I was worried about my family, not my wife, who on the first day of my custody told me that my job was to look after myself, and that everything else she was to do.

Were no dire threats meted out to you?
I mean…

I guess it was implicit in their conduct.
After they arrested me, what else could they have done even though I had started believing that worse things could be done to a person? But what can you do? In this country, they can arrest a person illegally and they can put a person in jail illegally. The people who run the country can even kill you illegally, but I still feel they don’t have the courage to go so far.

What is the status of the case?
In what will go down as the rarest of the rare case, the CBI has filed a chargesheet without securing approval for prosecution. This the CBI manual says, but in my case they have done it without securing the government’s approval for prosecution. But the approval will come from the Home Ministry.

You have, anyway, decided to go for the Voluntary Retirement Scheme.
I have, but I am sure they will put obstructions in that as well. They haven’t understood one thing – that if a person doesn’t get scared, you cannot scare him by any means. After all what I have gone through, why should I get scared by them not granting me VRS? I cannot allow these people to run my life. Let them not give me VRS, there are so many other options.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid.

Courtesy: Scroll.in

SY Quraishi had a six-year stint with the Election Commission, and was chief election commissioner between July 30, 2010 and June 10, 2012. An advocate of poll reforms, he speaks to Scroll.in about why the government should not present the Union Budget on February 1, why he backs the prime minister’s attempt to root out corruption from the electoral process, and the problems arising out of holding national and state elections simultaneously, while detailing the model for state funding of political parties. Excerpts:

Given that Assembly elections to five states are to be held between February 4 and March 8, is the Union government’s scheduled presentation of the Budget on February 1 an issue just of propriety or a fundamental violation of the Election Commission’s model code of conduct?
This a tricky question. That a debate has been generated over the issue, and all Opposition parties are up against it, shows it is contentious. Propriety and the model code of conduct are organically interlinked, so much so that the model code of conduct is now considered a moral code. I think the presentation of the Budget on February 1 would go against the spirit of the model code.
The model code has a chapter directed specifically against the party in power. One of its clauses prohibits any authority from making any announcement of any new scheme or giving financial incentives. It would be useful to quote the relevant clauses:
 

“From the time elections are announced by Commission, Ministers and other authorities shall not –
a) announce any financial grants in any form or promises thereof; or…
c) make any promise of construction of roads, provision of drinking water facilities, etc;… which may have the effect of influencing the voters in favour of the party in power.”
 

Well, the government is an authority, the Budget is announced by a minister and the presentation of the Budget is one form of announcing financial incentives.
The Election Commission often receives references from the government about schemes it wants to announce. For instance, we once received a reference that the government wanted to increase the minimum support price for agricultural produce.

When was this?
It was exactly five years ago, just before some elections were being held. The Election Commission’s first test was to ask whether the announcement could wait, whether there was an urgency to make the announcement.

You asked this of the government (which was of the United Progressive Alliance) then?
We asked the government on what dates they had announced minimum support price in previous years. We found these were usually done much later. So we told the government, “Thank you very much, but we won’t allow the announcement.”

Therefore, the first test is: can an announcement wait or is it being done to derive a political advantage? Even if the motive is not to seek an advantage but that ends up being the eventual effect, the Election Commission intervenes. It has allowed many proposals (for announcing schemes or policies) once it determines these cannot wait. For instance, once we allowed a reduction in petrol prices in the midst of an election in the larger context. When the Opposition parties attacked the government, its defence was that it had taken the Election Commission’s prior approval.

Do you think the government can delay presenting the Budget for another 36 days, when the last phase of the Assembly elections is slated to conclude?
The Election Commission has asked the government for its reasons. But the government could take the plea that it has already announced that the Budget would be advanced as a result of the model code of conduct coming into play.

The Election Commission has been advising state governments not to present their Budgets before elections and to opt for a vote-on-account instead. They have all heeded our advice. As far as the constitutional principle goes, there is no difference between the Budget of the state and that of the Centre.

What I am asking is whether 36 days of delay in presenting the Budget would make any difference to the country?
The date for presenting the Budget has traditionally been February 28, but for one or two exceptions. Why did the government advance this date? What were its reasons? Did it have elections in mind? The Election Commission will surely ask these questions of the government, and it will then examine its response.

Can you tell us what happened in 2012 that led the United Progressive Alliance to present the Budget mid-March, after Assembly elections to five states had concluded?
The then government moved the Budget to March 16 on its own without the Election Commission coming into the picture, ostensibly, because of the Opposition’s demand. The Opposition was crying foul and…

The Bharatiya Janata Party was then in the Opposition.
I don’t remember precisely what the BJP said, but it was said that the BJP had indeed demanded that the Budget be postponed. The Election Commission did not order postponement. The government did it of its own volition. In any case, that came as a great relief to us as some phases of the elections were scheduled for the first week of March.

There are some, including your former colleagues, who claim that since national elections and state elections are two different events, the Union government should go ahead and present the Budget as it is a national event. By that logic, shouldn’t all members of the government that present the Budget be disallowed from participating in a state event – that is, Assembly elections?
I have read the statements of two of my colleagues (TS Krishnamurthy and N Gopalaswami) that you refer to. It is true that we haven’t interfered in national elections. It is also true that in 2008, when I was a member of the Election Commission, there were three states in which elections were held after the Union Budget had been presented on February 28. These were Tripura, Meghalaya and Nagaland, which went to polls on March 7 and March 8. However, in 2012, the Budget was presented on March 16. In both instances, the Election Commission wasn’t involved in taking the decision.

Why didn’t you stop the Union government from presenting the Budget in 2008?
I don’t precisely remember what kind of discussions we had. But there were no protests from the Opposition. It did not demand a postponement.

Alright, but what do you think about the statements made by your former colleagues?
They are right. The Election Commission has not interfered itself. But it’s a grey area.

Chapter 7 of the Model Code of Conduct is specifically aimed at denying the party in power the incumbency advantage. It says the party in power will not misuse official machinery, men and material, and will not make any new announcements. If an incumbent government comes up with a very populist Budget, it may kill the very spirit of the model code of conduct.

For instance, a measure such as a huge reduction in income tax would certainly kill the spirit, right?
Yes, yes. If they give relief to pensioners such as me, I will probably be very happy to vote for the party giving it. To say that the Indian voter is very discerning, or that a populist measure doesn’t matter significantly, is a fallacious argument. Even if one person is influenced by a populist announcement, it matters. Not very long ago (in the 2008 Rajasthan Assembly elections), the Congress leader CP Joshi lost by a single vote. He might have become chief minister. Voters are human beings who are susceptible to the hawa (mood) created through marketing techniques and the announcements of sops.

If you were the chief election commissioner today, what would your stance have been on the government’s decision to present the Budget on February 1?
That is a question difficult to answer. The Election Commission has wise people, they have in front of them the most recent facts. Whatever I know today is what I have read in the media.
But I do feel that the Budget does influence voters, and the five states going to polls constitute one-fifth of India. If the Union Budget is presented on February 1, Chapter 7 of the model code of conduct does get affected.

That said, the prime minister has already announced new proposals in his speech on December 31 and at his Lucknow rally on January 2. If only these proposals are reiterated and fleshed out with figures in the Budget, then it is not a problem. But fresh proposals would be against the spirit of the model code of conduct.

That, unfortunately, we will know only after the Budget has been presented. The damage would have already been done by then.
That is true. Earlier, what used to happen was that the Union cabinet would approve a new scheme and the last line (of the minutes of the meeting) would say it cannot be implemented now because of the Election Commission’s model code of conduct. However, the scheme would be leaked to the media. Through this modus operandi, the government would hope to reap the benefits. We summoned the cabinet secretary two or three times, and said this cleverness wouldn’t do. We then issued an order that even a resolution regarding a new scheme cannot be brought before the cabinet for its consideration without securing the prior clearance of the Election Commission.

The model code of conduct is a gift to the nation by the political parties themselves. It is a voluntary code of conduct they devised in the 1960s and 1970s to ensure peaceful, free and fair elections with a level-playing field. The current generation has no business to dilute the spirit of the gift given by the previous generation of political leadership.

Politicians are by and large very conscious of this. I have mentioned only two politicians in my book (An Undocumented Wonder: The Making of the Great Indian Election) – one comes out negatively, the other comes out positively.

Let us first hear about the one who comes out negatively.
Former Law Minister Salman Khurshid announced an increase in reservations for minorities at the time he was campaigning for his wife. He also said he would continue to talk about pichadas (backwards). The BJP complained to us. We issued a notice to the law minister. He came to us with a team of top lawyers, but we concluded that Khurshid’s was indeed a violation of the model code of conduct. We censured him.

But censure wouldn’t have debarred him from campaigning or contesting elections.
No, it wouldn’t have. But censure has a moral dimension to it and affects public sentiment. It should not be dismissed as toothless as often alleged. Let me contrast this with an example that is positive. There was a by-election in Goa in 2012. We heard that Goa Chief Minister Manohar Parrikar (now Union defence minister) was planning to induct the BJP candidate into the ministry. Obviously, a ministerial berth would have given the candidate an advantage. We sent Parrikar a message, saying such as decision would unsettle the level-playing field and asking whether he would re-consider.

I received a call from Parrikar. He told me, rather angrily, that appointing a person as minister at a time of his choosing was his constitutional right. I said he was 100% correct, but I said I was pointing to the ethical dimension of the model code of conduct. Much to our delight, he not only postponed his decision to appoint the candidate as minister, but also issued a beautiful statement, to the effect that he was sacrificing his constitutional right to the moral authority of the model code. I thought he set a high moral standard, particularly as it was in contrast to the response of another minister – and a Union minister at that – around the same time.

If the Election Commission comes to the conclusion that the Budget shouldn’t be presented on February 1, but the government doesn’t adhere to its advice, what recourse is available?
I don’t have an answer to that.

Does the code of conduct have legal backing?
It is true that it is not a law, but, in a way, it is, because the Supreme Court has said in several judgements that the code of conduct has to be strictly enforced. For this reason, it has the force of law.

But you do think the Union government shouldn’t push the envelope as far as the model code of conduct goes, don’t you?
I won’t be surprised if the government defers the Budget because of the Opposition and public sentiment. Or it could avoid making populist announcements, which could be subsequently included in the discussion on the Budget. It’s heartening to see that perhaps for the first time, a prime minister has put electoral reforms high on the national agenda. To have his poll reform proposals taken seriously, I am hopeful that the prime minister will postpone the Budget.

Indeed, the prime minister has spoken of poll funding. On January 7, he told his party members that they should disclose the source of funds they receive. Yet, you wrote recently that you were surprised that the government has twice rejected the Election Commission’s proposal that it be given permanent powers to cancel elections on credible evidence of abuse of money. The second rejection came after the prime minister projected demonetisation as a war on black money. There seems to be a gap…
When the prime minister announced demonetisation, the very next day I wrote an article in the Hindustan Times supporting it, at least as far as elections go. It will, I said, put an end to sacks of money floating around before every election.

You have seen sacks of money. It isn’t a myth, after all.
Of course, we have. It actually goes around in boris.

Sacks containing wads of Rs 1,000 notes?
We have caught boris of money being transported on top of buses or in the boots of cars. Demonetisation will have a salutary effect on the five states going to elections now, I wrote. Why didn’t I talk beyond the elections to the five states? That is because they change their modus operandi. In my book, I detailed 40 methods of abuse of money during elections. Those 40 were what the Election Commission had unearthed till then. They (politicians) would have discovered more methods by now.

The latest method is to move money to chosen destinations before the announcement of elections. Everyone knew the five states would be going to polls around January and February. The idea is to move the money before the model code of conduct comes into operation. Demonetisation happened at the time the money would have been moving to constituencies in the five states. That money would have become worthless. I am very sure the use of money in the five states will be far less than before.

Why did the government reject the Election Commission’s proposal on the powers to cancel elections?
As I wrote, it was the law ministry that rejected it. Surely, the prime minister wasn’t aware of it. After all, he had just declared war on black money.

But isn’t this how political parties behave – they say one thing, act contrary to it?
I wouldn’t say that. Had the proposal reached the prime minister’s office, I assume he would have accepted it, given his declaration of war on black money.

What is the rationale behind allowing parties to accept donations less than Rs 20,000 in cash and not making it incumbent upon them to declare the identity of donors?
It is to enable small donations.

Money power is the only unsolved problem in the Indian election system. There is no goonda-gardi, no fraud, no booth capturing, no impersonation. But despite the Election Commission’s best efforts, money power continues to vitiate elections. Corruption in elections is the root cause of all corruption in the country. After all, if you spend crores on your election, you would want your returns.
Now, 75% to 80% of all contributions, by the declaration of political parties themselves, are in cash, with their sources unknown. This source could be crime money or the real estate mafia’s wealth or foreign money. That is why there should be transparency.

Won’t the disclosure of the identity of people donating less than Rs 20,000 go against small parties?
Why?

Because small parties like, say, the Bahujan Samaj Party, are less likely to attract corporate donations.
It is not true. Haven’t all corporations have set up their offices in Noida?

What about, say, the Aam Aadmi Party?
Theoretically, you are right, some parties are in a better position to attract corporate donations. The Aam Aadmi Party created a great model – every penny it received was disclosed on its website. In fact, I was very intrigued that out of thousands and thousands of donations, four of them were questioned for being from dubious or foreign sources. Ironically, those who were questioning the four donations out of thousands had not revealed their own sources of funds. That was hypocritical.

The Aam Aadmi Party has also said that it removed the names of donors from its website because some of them were being harassed by the government…
I don’t know about it.

But that could be the other problem of disclosing the names of small donors. They don’t have a firewall around them as, say, corporate giants have.
I don’t think people donating Rs 500 or Rs 1,000 would be harassed.

Sure, those who were harassed must have contributed a bigger amount, but a person donating Rs 1 lakh is far more vulnerable than, say, a corporation donating a few crores.
Once, NDTV’s Ravish Kumar asked me whether there was any good model of how parties should finance themselves. I said that the Aam Aadmi Party’s model was a good one. The comment nearly went viral because of the party’s activists who tweeted my comment. But critics pointed out that the list of donors has been removed from the website for six months. I re-tweeted that as well, for I am not partisan and was concerned that a good model of collecting money had been discontinued. I applauded the Aam Aadmi Party model in my book and suggested that other parties emulate it. I hope they will keep it up.

Still, I think there is a problem. A trader donates and his name is registered on the website or disclosed, he could become vulnerable to pressure.
You are right, that is possible. Let alone the Aam Aadmi Party, there was a Confederation of Indian Industry report that said there was consensus among its members that when they donate money to political parties, their identity should not be disclosed. They feared reprisals. I had questioned it, though. I said what they perhaps mean is that their quid pro quo would get disclosed!

There has been much talk of state funding of elections. What does it mean?
It has been debated for a good two to three decades as a counter to corruption in elections. It means that the state gives parties money for contesting elections. The Election Commission’s stand, as well as mine, has been that state funding of elections is not feasible or desirable as it is difficult to implement and requires internal democracy in the political parties as a pre-requisite.

Why is it difficult to implement?
It will be difficult to monitor. It is not white money but black money that is a problem. For instance, a candidate in a Vidhan Sabha constituency is allowed to spend Rs 28 lakhs. Suppose the state writes him a cheque of Rs 28 lakhs. What about the crores he would spend to bribe voters? Thus, good money would only supplement black money.

But I do favour state funding of political parties (not elections) after the voting. For instance, the state can decide to pay Rs 100 for every vote that a party polls.

In the last election, 55 crore votes were cast. So Rs 100 for every vote would mean a total payment of Rs 5,500 crores. No party can fudge the number of votes it polled.

Will political parties consider Rs 5,500 crores adequate?
They will. All parties together have shown that they collected around Rs 4,000 crore over the last five years (preceding the 2014 elections). However, private funding will then be stopped and the accounts of parties will be publicly audited. But this is what they all dread.

There is also the problem of funding independents. If the state starts funding independents, then many non-serious candidates would enter the fray only because there is money to be made. There is also the issue of dummy candidates. Still, I would not rule out giving money to an independent candidate based on his performance. If you get one vote, you take home Rs 100.

Nearly 70% of European countries have adopted state funding. If it is working well there, there is no reason why it wouldn’t work here.

But do they access corporate finance there?
It is banned in most countries.

That apart, there is also the question of why the state should pay so much to political parties.
I think paying Rs 1,000 crore per annum to keep the country honest is peanuts. We could even create a national election fund to which corporates and individuals could contribute. The money collected could be distributed to the political parties post-vote.

But corporates won’t donate then.
No, no, they will. Many have created funds for this very purpose. To tempt them to do so, you can give them tax exemptions.

What about political parties entering the fray for the first time?
Well, when you float a new venture, you have to invest your own money, don’t you? After they contest, their share can be determined according to the number of votes they poll. Some advance could also be considered. Let the proposal be accepted in principle first, the details can be worked out.

Don’t you think simultaneous polls, which the prime minister has been talking about, would create constitutional issues?
It is very desirable but has constitutional issues. If the prime minister creates consensus, it will be very good, as to do so would require constitutional amendments. The prime minister has mentioned two reasons for simultaneous polls – one, that there is a lot of repeated cost, and two, there is a repeated disruption of normal activity.

I would like to add two more points. Three, since corruption in elections is the root cause of all corruption in the country, a perpetual cycle of elections perpetuates corruption. Four, caste and communal tensions are triggered before every election. Since we are in a perpetual mode of elections, we perpetuate social tension and divisive tendencies as well.

The counter-point to it is that local and national elections shouldn’t get mixed up. Say, if panchayat elections are being held with national elections, then it is possible that having a sewage drain connection is more important to a person than, say, India’s Pakistan policy. So, foreign policy can get subordinated to an issue of local concern.

Or the other way around?
Yes, the other way around, too, could be a problem.

But there is also the problem of governments losing their majority.
Remember former Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee lost his majority in the Lok Sabha in 1999 by a vote. Had there been simultaneous polls, what would have happened to the 29 Assemblies? (A few states came into existence in 2000 and after). Would they too have gone to polls with the Lok Sabha?

There is also the possibility of a state government losing its majority.
Well, there they can impose President’s rule.

That would be undemocratic.
Yes, but at the national level, you don’t even have a provision for President’s rule. If a government loses it majority in the Lok Sabha, what do you do then? A parliamentary standing committee on this issue submitted its report in 2015. There were two important things it said. One, it said the idea of simultaneous polls is diluted by not talking about panchayat elections altogether. What is simultaneous about elections if one of the three tiers – national, state, village – is excluded.

Apart from this, it said simultaneous polls for national and state elections might be difficult to hold once every five years. Alright, it can be done once every two and a half years. But, to achieve this, you will have to curtail the tenure of some of the Vidhan Sabhas. The Constitution has provided a term of five years. But some Assemblies will have to be dissolved beforehand. Which party would allow that? On the other hand, some parties will have their tenure in government extended beyond five years. Niti Ayog came out with a good document on the proposal summarising the arguments for and against to enable debate without making any comment itself.

This issue is serious enough for a national debate.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid

This article was first published on Scroll.in

On November 1, 1992, The Pioneer newspaper, then edited by the legendary Vinod Mehta, published a story that Amit Prakash and this reporter had stitched together. Titled, 1984: The Price of Inaction Revisited, we based our story on the experiences of an eminent band of five Sikhs, the personal diary of IK Gujral, who was to later become India’s prime minister, accounts of police officers, and reports of inquiry commissions and civil rights groups.

The eminent band of Sikhs included two who are celebrated for their heroics in war – the country's only Marshal of the Indian Air Force, Arjan Singh, and Lt Gen Jagjit Singh Aurora, the hero of the 1971 Bangladesh war. The other three were the noted writer Patwant Singh, diplomat Gurbachan Singh and Brig (retd) Sukhjit Singh, a scion of the Kapurthala royal family.

Of them, we spoke at length to Patwant Singh, Lt Gen Aurora and Arjan Singh, who is still alive. Gujral read out his diary entries to us. The story below is an abridged version of 1984: The Price of Inaction Revisited, written in the spirit which novelist Milan Kundera described as: “The struggle for power is the struggle of memory against forgetting.”
 

October 31, 9.18 am: Indira Gandhi is shot

At 10 am, author Patwant Singh heard Prime Minister Indira Gandhi had been shot at by her Sikh guards. Despite running a fever, he got onto his feet and asked his secretary to call Lt Gen Jagjit Singh Aurora, Air Marshal Arjan Singh, diplomat Gurbachan Singh, and Brig (retd) Sukhjit Singh, all of them prominent Sikh citizens of Delhi.

To Arjan Singh, Patwant Singh said, “We must make our positions clear: Assassinations can’t and should never be a solution to political problems.” Arjan Singh asked him to prepare a draft statement for the Press. The five decided to meet at Patwant Singh’s 11, Amrita Shergill Marg residence at 3.30 pm. Their alacrity suggested they had a foreboding of what lay ahead. Arjan Singh said he would try to reach out to IK Gujral and invite him to their meeting.

The Gujrals were not at home. Unknown to Arjan Singh, Gujral and his wife were wending their way to the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, where Indira Gandhi had been taken after she was sprayed with bullets. Gujral was once a member of what was referred to as Gandhi’s “Kitchen Cabinet”, but had fallen out of favour after he decided to oppose Sanjay Gandhi’s attempt to censor the Press during the Emergency.

About his visit to the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, Gujral wrote in his diary:
 

“Reached AIIMS at 12.30 pm. We were taken to the eight floor where her body had been laid. [Godman] Dhirendra Brahmachari emerged from one of the rooms and whispered to Maneka [Gandhi], ‘She is dead’. Later, at the exit on the ground floor, [Union Minister P] Shiv Shankar confirmed the news.”
 

Her death was not made official, perhaps because her only surviving son, Rajiv Gandhi, was away in West Bengal. President Zail Singh, too, was abroad. There was, after all, the issue of succession to sort out.

At 3.30 pm, the eminent Sikhs began to discuss Patwant Singh’s draft of the statement. There was disagreement only on one count: Should a caveat be entered against the possibility of a backlash against the Sikh community? Aurora’s was the only contrarian voice – he felt there was no sign to fear attacks against Sikhs. He brought others around to his view. A call was made to The Indian Express editor George Varghese, requesting him to give their statement condemning the assassination of Indira Gandhi a prominent slot.

Perhaps Aurora would not have taken a contrarian position at 11, Amrita Shergill Marg had he known what was happening outside the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, where a crowd had gathered. One man's turban was snatched and burnt. A Sikh was dragged out of his car and beaten.

Before Rajiv Gandhi returned to Delhi at 4 pm, and Zail Singh an hour later, just about every person in Delhi knew that Indira Gandhi was dead. The rumour mill was India’s social media then.
 

October 31, dusk: Disturbances spread

When President Zail Singh visited the All India Institute of Medical Sciences, stones were pelted at his cavalcade. It was done, according to police sources, by supporters of a Congress metropolitan councilor who was subsequently assassinated. This set off a competition among local Congress leaders. Sikhs and Sikh-owned properties in INA Market, Sarojini Nagar Market and South Extension in South Delhi were attacked.

Those at 11, Amrita Shergill Marg were oblivious to what had started unfolding on Delhi’s streets. At 6.30 pm, Arjan Singh’s car backed out of Patwant Singh’s residence and turned left from where Amrita Shergill Marg loops to join Lodhi Road. At the T-junction, two men rushed to him. One of them warned, “Sardarji, don’t take this route. Danga [rioting] has started.”

Twenty-five minutes later, at 6.55 pm, President Zail Singh administered the oath of office to Rajiv Gandhi, who succeeded his mother as Prime Minister.

An hour or two after sunset, Deputy Commissioner (South Delhi) Chandra Prakash felt that the situation in Delhi was teetering out of control. He suggested to Additional Commissioner (New Delhi Range) Gautam Kaul that a curfew be imposed and the Army be called in. In a subsequent memorandum to the Union Home Ministry, Prakash wrote,
 

“Kaul turned down my recommendation stating that a meeting had already taken place sometime earlier in the Prime Minister’s house, where the Home Minister was also present, and a decision had been taken not to impose curfew and call out the Army at that stage.”
 

The Home Minister then was PV Narasimha Rao, who was to become Prime Minister seven years later. The Delhi Police reported to him. Chandra Prakash, ironically, was later indicted by inquiry commissions for failing to control the 1984 riots.

At night, the violence spread to North Delhi. A dry fruits shop was broken into and looted. However, the mob was dispersed and a police officer took the cash box into his custody. Later, a string of timber merchant shops in Pili Kothi area in Central Delhi were set ablaze. The police found local Congress and Bharatiya Janata Party leaders instigating the mob.
 

November 1, forenoon: Planned carnage

Between 9 am and 11 am, mobs began to raid Delhi’s residential colonies where Sikhs were concentrated. Killings and rapes occurred, as did looting and burning. The Delhi Police was paralysed. It seemed as if diabolical souls had kept awake the previous night scripting and choreographing the dance of death that Delhi watched helplessly – but also, at places, with cannibalistic ecstasy.

Hearing about the carnage, Gujral placed a call to Rashtrapati Bhavan. Zail Singh promptly came on the line. About their conversation, Gujral wrote in his diary:
 

“He sounded pathetic and pleaded helplessness. He requested me to visit different parts of Delhi and seek governmental assistance.”
 

Gujral called Delhi’s Lt Governor, PG Gavai, at 11 am. Gujral’s entry read:
 

“I suggested the Army should be called in. Gavai says it will cause panic. I replied, ‘You are talking of not causing panic, but the whole city is already burning.’”
 

However, another version claimed that Gavai had indeed asked for the Army to be summoned the previous evening but was overruled by the Home Ministry. It corroborates Chandra Prakash’s memorandum, belying the recent claims of those who allege it was the Prime Minister’s Office, not PV Narasimha Rao, who was overseeing the affairs of Delhi in those traumatic hours.

Meanwhile, diplomat Gurbachan Singh had managed to secure a 12.05 pm appointment with Zail Singh. It was decided they would assemble at 11, Amrita Shergill Marg. When Aurora sat in his car at his New Friends Colony residence, his driver cautioned him against venturing out. But the man who had brought Pakistan to its knees in 1971 was firm in his resolve, unmindful of a mob that had begun to surround a gurdwara there. They took another route out of New Friends Colony, counted among Delhi’s spiffy colonies, and then sped to their destination.

Just 15 km away, a mob had surrounded Gurdwara Sis Ganj in Old Delhi, where hundreds of Sikhs had taken refuge. The mob started to launch sallies from both the Chandni Chowk and Red Fort sides of the gurdwara. The jathedars (community leaders) in the gurdwara, too, got into position. Separating the assailants from defenders was a small contingent of policemen led by Deputy Commissioner Maxwell Pereira. He ordered his men to fire. The mob dispersed. One person died, hundreds of lives were saved.

By contrast, a strong 500-mob was allowed to go on the rampage in Trilokpuri Resettlement Colony in East Delhi, where the first Sikh victim was a scooterist who was burnt alive. A college lecturer sought the help of two police constables posted at a gurdwara in Block 36. They walked away. The gurdwara was attacked.
 

November 1, 12.05 pm: The President shrugs

The eminent group of five Sikhs trooped into Rashtrapati Bhavan for their appointment. They were agitated. They narrated to the President the horrific scenes unfolding on the streets of Delhi. Zail Singh heard them silently. Aurora suggested to the President that he should address the nation on radio and television. Patwant Singh complained that Doordarshan was allowing the provocative slogans being shouted at Teen Murti House – where the body of Indira Gandhi lay in state – to filter through. The President remained mum.

Aurora suggested, “Why don’t you call the Army?” The President said he did not have the powers to do so. A livid Patwant Singh remarked, “When the nation is burning the President has to intervene.” Arjan Singh coaxed Zail Singh to speak to Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi. To their shock, he replied, “He is too busy. When I go to Teen Murti House I will try to talk to him.”

The President suggested that they should speak to Home Minister Rao. A presidential aide was asked to put in a call to him, but was told that Rao was in a meeting. The Cabinet Secretary was telephoned. An official came on the line. Aurora introduced himself. The official said, “General, it is too dangerous for a Sikh to venture out. I don’t know where the Cabinet Secretary is.”

Angry and disconsolate, they sat there with Zail Singh, wondering what to do next, when at 1.15 pm the President’s press secretary Tarlochan Singh rushed in with the news that the Home Ministry had decided to requisition the Army. But the mobs were on a killing spree. Residential blocks in Jahangirpuri in North Delhi had already been gutted, hundreds of Sikhs massacred. Posh South Delhi colonies were not spared either. In East Delhi, the mob had moved from Block 36 to Block 32 of Trilokpuri.

Back from Rashtrapati Bhavan, Patwant Singh and Aurora were joined by Gujral at 11, Amrita Shergill Marg. The trio decided to barge in at the 9, Motilal Nehru Marg residence of Home Minister Narasimha Rao.
 

November 1, afternoon: Rao plays cool

The trio was amazed at how relaxed Rao looked. He told them, “The Army will be here in the evening.”

Lt Gen Aurora asked, “How will it be deployed?” An unflappable Rao said, “The [Army] Area commander will meet the Lt Governor for this purpose.”

Aurora shot back angrily, “You have called the Army 30 hours too late.”

He then advised Rao: “Your first task should be to set up a Joint Control Room to coordinate between the police and the Army.” Unflustered, Rao said, “I will look into it.” The meeting ended. For a man who had been a minister for so long, it does, in hindsight, seem surprising that Rao would not have known the procedure that is followed when the Army is called to assist civilian authority.

Even as Rao played cool, five rows comprising 190 houses in Block 32 of Trilokpuri were reduced to ashes. Only five men survived. The estimated death toll: 450 dead. Women were raped and killed, a few abducted and taken to a nearby village.

In the evening, Army units began moving into Delhi. Unknown to Aurora, two soldiers were positioned at his residence in New Friends Colony by an Army officer who came to know that was where the hero of the Bangladesh war lived.

However, Aurora did not return home, persuaded as he had been by the Gujrals to spend the night at their place. Gujral recorded in his diary:
 

“Delhi is burning. There are reports of trains arriving with corpses. It is like 1947. Gen Aurora spent the night with us. The hero of 1971 could not sleep in his own house in Delhi.”
 

November 2, morning: The Army is in control

At the sight of the Army on Delhi's streets, the marauders did not venture out in South Delhi, though the killing continued in Trilokpuri, Mongolpuri and other trans-Yamuna colonies. Two Indian Express reporters went to Police Control Room to inform them about the massacres in Trilokpuri. They were laughed out of the room.

The relative calm elsewhere in Delhi prompted people to inquire about the well-being of their relatives and friends. Patwant Singh was surprised to find commentator Romesh Thapar and Swedish Charge d’ Affairs Rolf Gauffin at his door. Gauffin said, “Delhi isn’t safe. We have come to evacuate you to the Embassy.” He turned down the offer.

For the next few days, men, women and students began to work in relief camps. Civil rights groups began to document eyewitness accounts to prepare their reports, which eventually named the leaders who spearheaded or incited mobs to attack Sikhs. Thirty-two years later, most of the masterminds of the attacks remain unpunished.
 

Postscript

Ten days later, Aurora, Arjan Singh and Gujral requested Congress minister Rajesh Pilot to arrange a meeting with Rajiv Gandhi. After waiting at Pilot’s residence for two hours, they received a message: “If you want to condole with Rajiv Gandhi, the meeting can be held immediately.”

To the messenger, Aurora said, “Obviously, we want to condole. But we also want to tell him about the misery the Sikhs had to undergo and about the necessity of punishing the guilty.”

The meeting was cancelled. The powerful were not willing to listen to the woes of the people. This was also true of the 1992-’93 Mumbai riots, and the 2002 riots in Gujarat.

Ajaz Ashraf is a journalist in Delhi. His novel, The Hour Before Dawn, has as its backdrop the demolition of the Babri Masjid.

This article was first published on Scroll.in