Dear Prime Minister
In a different age, when you were the Deputy
Chairman of the Planning Commission, fresh from your
stint as the Governor of the Reserve Bank of India,
the country erupted with the Bofors scam. We were
amazed and angered by the kick-backs allegedly
offered by Bofors AB to the ruling party to secure
the contract for its 155 mm field gun. The bribe
bandied about by the press and various agencies
ranged from Rs.37 crore to Rs.40 crore. Even at
current prices, it wouldn’t suffice to buy a modern
3,000 square feet apartment in the swankier parts of
New Delhi, let aside downtown Bombay. Yet, it caused
a huge political upsurge — mighty enough for the
Indian National Congress to lose the 1989 general
elections, despite enjoying its greatest majority in
the Lok Sabha since 1951.
Bofors is a pre-natal play compared to what we are
seeing today. According to the report of the
Comptroller and Accountant General (CAG), the
illustrious Mr. A. Raja, until very recently India’s
Union Minister for Communications and Information
Technology, had connived with various telecom
players and middle men to ram through multiple 2G
spectrum deals that have cost the exchequer
Rs.1,76,645 crore.
Forget about the exactitude of the CAG number. Even
if we were to be generous to Mr. Raja and assume
that his modest price for saving telecom operators
some Rs.1,76,000 crore was a mere 10 per cent, we
are still looking at a kick-back of Rs.17,600 crore,
in whatever form. I have been told that for such
deals of the century, 20 per cent is the more likely
price. Be that as it may. The point worth noting is
that in comparison to Raja’s scam — and the 10 per
cent that we assume was pocketed — Bofors pales to
insignificance: at Rs.40 crore, it was a mere 0.2
per cent of what the perpetrators of the 2G would
have pocketed. Probably even less.
After Mr. Raja was finally sacked, everyone across
the political spectrum has categorically vouched for
your unimpeachable honesty and incorruptibility.
These virtues of yours are beyond question; as
indeed your dignity, equanimity, capability to work,
basic sensibility, dollops of patience and the
vision that you have of tomorrow’s India.
Having said that, two things surely need discussing.
The first is how can you credibly portray a modern,
legally sound, fair and institutionally-driven India
in face of so many instances of brazen corruption?
All tumbling out of the cupboard — one mightier than
the other. The second has to do with coalition
governments. Is the dharma of coalition so important
— or the fear of losing a key political partner so
pervasive — that even an incorruptible and ramrod
straight person like you must keep turning the
Nelson’s eye, till there is no blind eye left to
turn.
How can it be that your office didn’t know of the
way Raja was systematically hijacking the 2G
licensing process. While few had a fix on the exact
magnitude of the crime, I dare say that every
serious newspaper reader knew that things were
utterly rotten in Raja’s ministry. It cannot be that
your staff were not in the know of Raja’s blatant
shenanigans. Because if that were the case, then it
raises frighteningly fundamental questions about the
remit of the Prime Minister’s office.
Would we be incorrect in assuming that your office
knew that a monstrous scandal was being played out —
one that was grossly wrong, utterly unfair to the
exchequer, and could seriously damage the reputation
of your government and you? Would we be wrong in
asking who connived with Raja to allow him the space
to do what he did? Should we assume that your staff
were somehow convinced that Raja was doing right for
the nation, and succeeded in convincing you as well?
How could Raja ignore the advice of Ministry of Law
and the Ministry of Finance, cock a snook at the
Telecom Regulatory Authority of India, and avoid
placing any of his key revenue losing proposals to
the Union Cabinet? Is it the case that the files
never come to you, despite more than enough noise in
the press? Did you not ask for them?
None of these questions reflect adversely upon your
personal integrity and probity. But should these not
be asked?
The coalition dharma is even more frightening. It
means this: “Give your key coalition partners a very
long rope. Assume, often blithely, that they will do
nothing to severely embarrass your government. When
they do, turn the blind eye whenever you can. Punish
only when the crime becomes unbearable.”
This dharma can only damn us. Irrevocably. Perhaps
you and the leader of the party has realised it now.
We hope so. And that Mr. Raja marks the end of the
mind boggling kingdom of sleaze.
Published: Business World, December 2010