Can governance survive corruption?

D.N. Ghosh

The Fourth Estate, even if it cannot bite, must bark on

The Tehelka expose should surprise no one; the Indian polity has over decades acclamatised itself to influence peddling: “We obey no discipline, no rule, follow no principle of public morality, display no sense of social awareness and show no concern for the public weal. Corruption is not only tolerated but also regarded as the hallmark of leadership” - Rajiv Gandhi, in his address to the Congress centenary celebration in 1985, soon after his entry into public life; in a veritable portrait of degeneration in our political values and culture.

Corruption has become epidemic; we do not need electronic surveillance to make us aware of its existence; it is evident all over. The current breed of political activists are far more daring and innovative in using political leverage for illegitimate enrichment than their predecessors could ever have dreamt of. Influencing big contractual deals is no longer an exciting enough game; they have learned how to capture institutions and organisations in the public domain and treat these as their private property.

They do not see corruption as a moral issue, in the way the guardians of traditional institutions do, nor are they inhibited by conventional middle-class opinion. Indeed they deserve credit for the transparency with which they play out the drama in the open: an exhibition of abrasive self-confidence, brushing off any criticism with bold postures of injured innocence. A few, with a bit of conscience left, come out with the specious plea that conversion of state power into illicit wealth for private benefit may be morally wrong but is acceptable for the good of the political party.

Ironically, even those in the political spectrum who take pride in their commitment to probity in public life have little hesitation about drifting from their moorings, on the plea of political expediency, and becoming fellow travellers. In a world where political morality and rationality continually shift and are rarely defined, money has become the currency for easy ideological conversion.

An ambience of corruption envelops the whole polity. Improprieties in specific contractual dealings do make headlines, but what does not get exposed are the invisible hands of powerful interest groups interested in privatising the state itself in furtherance of their business ambitions. Deeply entrenched within the polity, they seem to have acquired a steel grip over the political and bureaucratic establishments. With their complex and sometimes secret Machiavellian designs, they run networks where narrow interlocking elites circulate at will among the top echelons of business, the public sector and political and bureaucratic establishments. This makes it easy for them to maintain an endless supply chain of servitors to meet their demands and pursue their interests with uninterrupted ease.

What is deeply worrying, and much more so than the episodic publicising of corruption within the polity, is the manner in which corruption is undermining the moral foundation of the polity itself. The expectation that market reform measures, through transparency in transactions and open rules of the game, will provoke a catharsis in our business and public life is turning out to be illusory. All that appears to have changed is the nature and forms of influence-peddling; these get continually refined and redesigned to make sure that the market bends and behaves in the way that the powerful interest groups and dominant market participants would wish it to happen.

The general public perception and belief is that the political class observes certain unwritten codes of political governance: to watch and obey the nods and winks of the dominant business tycoons. Admittedly such perceptions may not be based on clinching evidence; these fall somewhat in the twilight category, but twilight nonetheless is a fact of life. The political class, in power and in opposition, knows well enough how its relationship works with business and how the close nexus is affecting the governance of our polity and undermining the faith in our system. If the political class feels any responsibility to cleanse the system, they have to first cleanse themselves. Anti-corruption as a strategy is unlikely to endure, unless it moves beyond a simple concern with abuse of public office; it has to address the sources of corruption.

Reform of the electoral system and state funding of election, if implemented, would be an improvement but it is questionable whether it will be effective in a society that fosters and protects corrupt values. It is only the cultural regeneration of a new kind of public morality that can save our democratic polity from chaotic disaster. But today, with the emergence of a class of business politicians entering politics primarily for personal gain, all of this sounds utopian.

What then does the future hold for us? The electorate stands confused and helpless; there is little for them to choose between the norms of behaviour and public morality between politicians and parties. In desperation one turns to the judicial system for a brake; on occasion, their activism lights up hope that everything perhaps is not lost, but many know the system well enough to turn that hope into a mirage. A painting by Titian comes to mind: a roaring lion has been caught in a net, but a mouse is gnawing at the cords to set it free.

We are left with the press and the media. They have to feel responsible and behave credibly in their attempts to restore the moral foundation of a civil society. This will never be to the liking of the political class, bureaucratic and big business establishments who seem to thrive on confusion and anarchy.

In the early nineties, the exposure of a series of scandals that rocked the country brought forth an acerbic comment from a big business house: “When elephants move, dogs bark”. But it is on the barking of dogs that we have to pin our hopes; we need them to alert us. If that barking stops, or is silenced, we will be doomed, to use an expression of Milan Kundera’s, “to a future which is an indifferent void that no one cares about”.
(Mr Ghosh is a former chairman of the State Bank of India)