Census 2011

Population Highlights

* The population of India has increased by more than 181 million during the decade 2001-2011.

* The population of India, at 1210.2 million, is almost equal to the combined population of  U.S.A., Indonesia, Brazil, Pakistan, Bangladesh and Japan put together (1214.3 million)!

* 2001-2011 is the first decade(with the exception of 1911-1921) which has actually added lesser population compared to the previous decade.

* The percentage decadal growth during 2001-2011 has registered the sharpest decline since Independence - a decrease of 3.90 percentage points from 21.54 to 17.64 percent.

* Uttar Pradesh (200 million) is the most populous State in the country - population is more than the population of Brazil.

* Uttar Pradesh and Maharashtra (312 million), is  greater than the population of USA (307 million) !

Population (0-6 years) Highlights

* The total number of children in the age-group 0-6 million (-5 million since 2001).

* The proportion of Child Population in the age group the  0-6 years to total Population is 13.1 percent while corresponding figure in 2001 was 15.9 percent.

* The proportion of Child Population in the age group of 0-6 years to total Population is indicative of fall/rise in fertility.

* Overall Sex ratio at the National level has increased by 7 points since Census 2001 to reach 940 at Census 2011.

This is the highest Sex Ratio recorded since Census 1971.

Literacy Status: Highlights

* As per   provisional population totals of Census 2011, literates constitute 74 per cent of the total population aged seven and above and illiterates form 26 per cent.

* Literacy rate has gone up from 64.83 per cent in 2001 to 74.04 percent in 2011 showing an increase of 9.21 percentage points.

* The literacy rate for males and females works out to 82.14 per cent and 65.46 per cent respectively. The increase in literacy rate in males and females during 2001-2011 is in the order of 6.88 and 11.79 percentage points respectively.

* It is encouraging to note that out of total of 217,700,941 literates added during the decade, female 110,069,001 outnumber male 107,631,940.

The Emergency: The Initial Years

A very important aspect of the imposition of the Emergency was the reaction of the people.
While a section of the intelligentsia were markedly hostile to it, the large majority of Indians did not immediately understand what this unprecedented step meant. They responded to it with apathy and passivity, acquiescence and obedience; in some cases they even welcomed and supported it but were not overenthusiastic. There were no spontaneous protests, or strikes and demonstrations against the arrest of the opposition leaders as had been the case in August 1942. Only some sporadic, though sometimes heroic, instances of protest by word or deed were registered;  a few printed or cyclostyled leaflets appeared in a few places. There was some organized resistance by groups in Bihar; a few members of Jan Sangh in Delhi and of Akali Dal in Punjab courted arrest. CPM organized a few demonstrations in Kerala; however, it soon gave up when its leaders were arrested but soon released.

Most of the votaries of Total Revolution went quiet and the JP movement just 'melted away'. This was reflected in JP's despair at the lack of public protest and the manner in which the people had meekly accepted the Emergency.

Of course, the passive acceptance of the Emergency and even its slight popularity among some lasted through only its early phase. With the passage of time, the Emergency regime became increasingly unpopular and opposition to it began to take root in large parts of the country. Nevertheless, the acceptance of the Emergency in the initial stages has to be explained.

Why were the people reconciled to and even welcomed the Emergency and the hard steps that went with it so readily? Why did democracy collapse so easily? Why were Mrs Gandhi's orders obeyed so completely? Why was the faith of Morarji Desai and JP belied, that the people would not let Mrs Gandhi do what she did? Why did the instruments of administration, including the Army, fall in line 'with a dictatorship without demur', as one commentator was to ask later. And why was there no significant resistance to the government for a considerable period of time?  To these may be added another significant question. Why was the Emergency experience forgotten so easily so that Mrs Gandhi, who got a drubbing in March 1977 elections, could come back to power at the end of 1979?

There are no single answers to these questions. A few easy explanations suggest themselves. For one, the situation was unprecedented. Most of the people had no experience in recent memory, since in independence, of authoritarian rule, especially of strict press censorship. Moreover the very strength of Emergency lay in its suddenness and broad sweep. People were taken by surprise and were stunned and bewildered, as they did not expect that a national, constitutionally-elected government would or could impose an undemocratic regime. The news blackout added to their confusion.

The JPM(Jayprakash Movement) was also less popular and Mrs Gandhi not that unpopular outside or even in Bihar than JP and many of his followers believed, or as some of the newspapers portrayed. That JP was leading a 1942-type movement or that the Indian people were in a revolutionary mood was simply untrue. JP was, in fact, living in a world of his own creation. Furthermore, the lightening arrest of 26 June(day on which Emergency was imposed) had paralyzed the leadership of the JPM.

Many intellectuals, many among the politicized, and many on the left, who were used to organizing popular protest movements, had, despite their misgivings, another reason for at least their lukewarm response to the Emergency regime or being neutral towards it. It was the communal right which was the chief target of massive government repression. Apart from the arrest of the JP and some other opposition leaders, the main edge of the Emergency's repressive measures seemed to be almost entirely directed against anti-social elements or against the extreme communal right and the far-left Naxalites, who enjoyed little popular support before the Emergency and who were in any case known to be averse to democracy. All the twenty-six organizations banned, for example, were communal or left extremists. Most of those arrested, except for JP and some opposition leaders and Sarvodayites, were the militants and active sympathizers of the banned organizations. No action as such was taken against the major secular or left opposition parities. Their top leaders and cadres were by and large left untouched, and the few lower level leaders who were arrested were soon released. Moreover Mrs Gandhi and the government media consistently, from the beginning, played upon the theme that the communalists, in general, and the fascist and undemocratic RSS in particular were the main targets of the Emergency. They also emphasized the active role the RSS played in the JP movement. But, more than these, a large number of people were impressed by the immediate positive outcome of the well-publicized measures of the Emergency. It was another matter that most of these measures could have been taken in the normal course of governance, without an Emergency. Some of these 'gains of Emergency ' were appreciated by the poor, who believed that Mrs Gandhi was working for their welfare; others were appreciated by the middle and upper classes. Most of the 'improvements', however, proved to be short-lived and were overshadowed by the 'excuses' of the Emergency.

Also the situation in the country before June 1975 was not normal and most people were not averse to hard steps being taken. A large number of people were disgusted with the breakdown of the law and order and administration. People were tired of 'apparently pointless confrontations' perpetual agitations, campaigns of mass civil disobedience, bandhs, gheraos, demonstrations, strikes and street violence, and students' and teachers' strikes and agitations, which had brought normal work in the universities and colleges to a standstill and created a disorderly atmosphere on the campuses. Many used the words 'chaos' and 'anarchy' to describe the pre-Emergency situation.

Suddenly, with the imposition of the Emergency, peace and public order were restored. Crime and hooliganism in the cities came down. Strikes, bandhs, sit-ins and gheraos, and mass demonstrations and rallies ended. There was perceptible lessening of tension in the air. Calm was restored on the campuses as students and teachers went back to classrooms, and examinations were held on time. After the turmoil of previous years industrial peace prevailed. There was a noticeable improvement in social discipline, for example, people stood in queues at bus stops and ration-shops, cities bore a cleaner look, traffic in the cities moved in an orderly fashion. The popular acceptance of the Emergency and relief at the improvements in discipline were reflected in Vinoba Bhave's description of the Emergency as 'Anusashan Parva' or the Era of Discipline.

Quick, well-publicized and stern action, stalled earlier by the courts, was taken on a large scale and in a determined fashion against smugglers, hoarders, black marketeers, illegal traders in foreign exchange and tax evaders. Several thousand of them were put behind bars under the MISA and their illegally acquired property was confiscated. Especially popular was the anti-smuggling drive under which nearly two thousand smugglers, including smuggling-kings like Haji Mastan and Yusuf Patel, were put behind bars, seriously disorganizing smuggling activities. Many well-reported income-tax raids led to the unearthing of large amounts of black money, while nearly Rs. 1,600 crore of concealed income was voluntarily disclosed. To check tax evasion, several luxury flats in Bombay and Delhi were raided. Upper ceilings was placed on ownership of vacant urban land to discourage concentration of land and speculation in real estate. Investment in luxury housing was checked by placing a limit on the plinth area of new houses.

J&K: Reverse swing

New Delhi’s interlocutors for Jammu and Kashmir (J&K) are back in the news. Last week, there were some media reports that they had recommended the restoration of pre-1953 status for the state. In the wake of these reports, there was uproar in the state legislative assembly. The Bharatiya Janata Party and its allies staged a walkout, branding the reported recommendation as “anti-India” and demanding that the central government reject it out of hand. As of this writing, it is not clear if the interlocutors have indeed made such a recommendation. Nevertheless, it is important to understand what the restoration of the pre-1953 status means and why it is likely to feature in any serious effort to address the Kashmir problem.

The issue of Kashmir’s autonomy, including the pre-1953 status, has been the subject of much myth-making. On the one hand, the Sangh Parivar and its associates have for long demanded the wholesale abrogation of Article 370, never mind reverting to pre-1953 status. Article 370, they claim, inhibits the “complete integration” of the state with India. From a historical and constitutional standpoint, this is utterly untenable. On the other hand, champions of Kashmir’s cause present even pre-1953 status as little more than an effort by New Delhi to whittle down the state’s autonomy. To be sure, successive central governments are responsible for reducing the state’s autonomy to a cruel joke. But the pre-1953 arrangements remain an important attempt at reconciling the autonomy of Kashmir with the imperatives of the Indian constitution.

Let’s start from the beginning. The Maharaja of J&K acceded to the Indian Union in October 1947. The Instrument of Accession specified only three subjects for accession: foreign affairs, defence and communications. In March 1948, the Maharaja appointed an interim government in the state, with Sheikh Abdullah as prime minister. The interim government was also tasked with convening an Assembly for framing a constitution for the state. Meantime, the constituent assembly of India was conducting its deliberations. Sheikh Abdullah and three of his colleagues joined the Indian constituent assembly as members, and negotiated Kashmir’s future relationship with India. This led to the adoption of Article 370 in the Indian constitution.

Article 370 restricted the Union’s legislative power over Kashmir to the three subjects in the Instrument of Accession. To extend other provisions of the Indian constitution, the state government’s prior concurrence would have to be obtained. Further, this concurrence would have to be upheld by the constituent assembly of Kashmir, so that the provisions would be reflected in the state’s constitution. This implied that once Kashmir’s constituent assembly met, framed the state’s constitution, and dissolved, there could be no further extension of the Union’s legislative power. It was thus that the state’s autonomy was guaranteed by the Indian constitution.

Another provision of Article 370 is worth underlining. Article 370(1)(c) explicitly mentions that Article 1 of the Indian constitution applies to Kashmir through Article 370. Article 1 lists the states of the Union. This means that it is Article 370 that binds the state of J&K to the Indian Union. The removal of Article 370 would render the state independent of India. There was a good reason why the article was framed in this fashion. In 1949, when these discussions took place, it was likely a plebiscite would be held in the state. The framers of the Indian constitution had to take into account the possibility that they may have to let go of J&K. The Sangh Parivar’s demand for removing Article 370 betrays their naiveté and ignorance.

The constituent assembly of Kashmir met for the first time in November 1951. Even as it got down to its work, Abdullah wanted to depose the Maharaja and end dynastic rule in Kashmir. Jawaharlal Nehru had no love lost for the Maharaja. But the move to depose the ruler raised serious constitutional issues; for the Maharaja was recognised by the President of India. More important, it underscored the need to settle the broad principles governing the relationship between Kashmir and India. This was necessary to ensure that Kashmir’s constitution consorted smoothly with that of India. Following intense negotiations, Nehru and Abdullah concluded an accord in July 1952.

Under the “Delhi Agreement” the union’s authority would be confined to the three subjects of accession; the residuary powers would be vested in the Kashmir government. The residents of the state would be citizens of India but the state legislature would define and regulate their rights and privileges. The head of the state would be recognised by the President of India on the recommendation of the state legislature. Delhi could only exercise emergency powers on the request of the state government. These were the contours of the “pre-1953” autonomous status for Kashmir.

Unfortunately, the accord failed to hold following the rift between Nehru and Sheikh Abdullah (which resulted in the latter’s imprisonment). Thereafter, successive Indian governments sought to shore up their slipping hold on Kashmir by creatively undermining the state’s autonomy. For instance, by a gross misuse of Article 370’s provisions the central government continued to extend its powers over Kashmir by merely seeking the approval of pliant state legislatures. New Delhi argued that since the constituent assembly of Kashmir had wound up in November 1956, the powers granted to that body should be vested in the state legislature. The intention of the framers of the constitution was, of course, just the opposite. What is worse, this reading was upheld by the Supreme Court, thereby making a mockery of Article 370.

Any sincere attempt to bridge the gulf between India and Kashmir will have to undo this travesty. The autonomy report advanced by the National Conference government in 1999 made some concrete suggestions in this regard. It candidly accepted that not all the presidential orders made under Article 370 since 1953 need to be rescinded. The important thing was to reaffirm and uphold the principle that constitutional limits ought to be respected. The Delhi Agreement of 1952 could yet provide a useful starting point.

* Srinath Raghavan is a Senior Fellow at the Centre for Policy Research, New Delhi

• March 24, 2011

India's Numbers

The world's second largest national headcount operation, the Census of India, is significant for several reasons. The largest peace-time administrative activity of the Indian state is also the third since economic liberalisation was initiated. Three decades is enough time for a nation to assess the economic impact and implications of a change in macroeconomic policies, and hence Census 2011 should provide statistical insights into what the move away from state-led development has meant for the people. In a rapidly growing India pulled back by glaring inequalities, data gathered by the censuses — particularly the village and town registers that give primary data on important indicators such as access to education, healthcare, communication, and financial services — will be invaluable for re-orienting public policy. This will also help align policies with the global approach to poverty reduction. In a specific instance, 262 districts and cities have been identified as “Gender Critical” — based on the 2001 Census data related to sex ratio, female literacy rate, and female work participation — and special training has been given to enumerators to collect accurate information on gender issues.

The 2011 Census has also done well to add questions that are in tune with a rapidly evolving economy. The inclusion of questions on whether a household possesses computers, laptops, and mobile phones will help determine India's standing in a fast-digitising global economy and provide a picture of the digital divide. The information gathered on modes of transport from commuters and the distance travelled to work — to be collected in the current phase of Population Enumeration — has the potential to be a valuable building block for an efficient public transport network. Economic activity has always engaged the attention of census-takers. Its contemporary salience is evident from the distinction being made in the Census between ‘marginal workers' who have worked for zero-to-three months and those who have worked for three-to-six months; this information will help policymakers assess the impact of the Mahatma Gandhi National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme. The larger economic purpose of Census 2011, however, should be to provide a reality check on where India stands on key indicators of development and also in relation to the government's professed committment to the creation of an inclusive society.

The Minister versus the civil servant

There is hardly any room today for the average officer to display any sign of independence or candour in decision-making.

The Central Bureau of Investigation's decision to arrest the former Telecommunications Secretary, Siddhartha Behura, along with the former Minister, A. Raja, in connection with the 2G spectrum case, revives an old debate over the relationship between the civil servant and the politician. The drastic action by the agency should shake the entire bureaucracy, especially the officers of the Indian Administrative Service and the Indian Police Service, out of their complacency. It should make them introspect on how they should regulate their responses to ministerial demands for unequivocal compliance of directions. The issue is ticklish and may never be resolved to the satisfaction of either side, or even those members of the public who believe that the independence of the civil service became extinct a long time ago. Nevertheless, it has become necessary to place things in perspective, so that the public understands the dynamics of a relationship which places enormous strain on officers at the senior levels of the bureaucracy.

There is nothing that has been reported till now that suggests that Mr. Behura had been dishonest and received monetary favours from the companies which benefited. Only a CBI charge sheet will lead to the process of confirming or disproving his integrity. There is just a possibility that, while being personally honest he had been more than willing to do the Minister's bidding, in order to stay in the good books. It is not insignificant that he had worked under Mr. Raja earlier in the Ministry of Environment. The fact that he signed more than 100 letters in regard to the issue of licences within days of assuming charge as Secretary, is a cause for grave misgivings: he was dishonest or negligent or displayed a lack of application of the mind. His lawyer claims his client had raised several objections to the Minister's actions. It is not known whether these had been recorded on the files. If Mr. Behura's dissent had indeed been put down on paper, that would provide an extenuating circumstance when his criminal liability is assessed.

Lord Macaulay, who was the Law Member of the Governor-General's Council in India and later Secretary of War in England in the second half of the 19th century — he is recognised as the draftsman of the remarkably structured Indian Penal Code — visualised the civil service as a body of young men with outstanding intellectual abilities and values. His report of 1864 paved the way for streamlining the recruitment for and training of the members of the Indian Civil Service. The foundation he laid stressed the qualities of discipline and integrity. The early years of Independence saw both Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru and Home Minister Sardar Patel nursing the civil services with great care and affection. They were convinced that the bureaucracy, as it evolved under the British, constituted a vital and dependable machinery to push through with the various reforms that an infant nation desperately needed. The uprightness and patriotism of the two great men ensured that the civil services were kept insulated from the muddy waters of day-to-day politics and played the key role expected of it in maintaining social stability, thereby providing the right ambience for development work.

Overall, despite a few hiccups, the culture that respected the average civil servant flourished. A clear distinction between the policymaking role of the Minister and of the implementation function of the civil servant had come to be established. By and large, the latter could argue against a Minister's decision without the peril of being humiliated or penalised. Once the Minister made up his mind after a discussion, he had the last word, and the Secretary had no alternative but to implement the decision. There was therefore everything in the system that promoted candour and honesty.

The watershed in the infamous history of the Indian administration thereafter was possibly the Emergency, declared in 1975 on specious grounds. The arbitrariness that ensued led to the dilution, if not the annihilation, of many traditional institutions. The civil service just caved in without protest.

Since then, the floodgates have remained open, and there has been no stopping the process of tinkering with the civil service. The casualties have been the fearlessness and objectivity of the members of the civil service. Barring a few, Ministers both at the Centre and in the States have steamrolled the bureaucracy so much that a fear psychosis now envelops the whole civil service. The judiciary has generally been remiss in undoing the damage. This is because of the stand that it cannot step in where routine administrative matters (such as transfers and suspensions) are involved, and that an act of injustice done to a civil servant does not constitute any infringement of the fundamental rights embodied in the Constitution. The Administrative Tribunals have occasionally offered some redress but have not done enough to remove the fear that grips a majority of public servants. This explains the rot.

The current situation is one in which the average IAS or IPS officer can hardly say ‘no' to a ministerial fiat. Blind obedience is what is expected, even when a direction is downright illegal. Some of the unfortunate recent scams are a direct outcome of this situation. A few of the so-called ‘encounters' involving anti-social elements also belong to this category. The demand these days from a Minister is for instantaneous action, and any perceived delay by an officer is fraught with grave consequences. In earlier times, ministerial displeasure often resulted in an officer's transfer from a sensitive job. These days, however, the consequence of ministerial ire is an inspired physical assault or a dubious departmental enquiry.

Against this backdrop, how do you expect even an iota of independence or candour from civil servants? It is easy for many of us to be critical of them for their submissive behaviour. But any non-conformist uprightness is a sure route to disaster. This is despite many safeguards, including the protection provided in Article 311 of the Constitution, which guarantee due process before a major penalty (dismissal, removal or reduction in rank) is imposed. Suspension from service is perhaps the worst ignominy that can befall a government official. No doubt there are some restrictions on this power. These do not, however, deter a reckless Chief Minister from settling scores with an unbending civil servant, especially in the higher echelons. The Union government caused great damage by sharing this power with the States in respect of the All India Services. This has been the chief source of fear even among bold officials. Major reform is immediately called for in this area.

It is not as if the blame rests squarely with the politicians. Overzealous and greedy civil servants have contributed equally to the dilution of standards. Many of them have looked the other way when Ministers were found indulging in malpractices. Worse is the case of those who have themselves functioned as conduits for money passing to Ministers. A third category comprises those who are themselves guilty of corruption and cannot blame their Ministers of unethical behaviour. How else do you explain an IAS-officer couple in Madhya Pradesh having been allegedly found to have assets worth more than Rs.300 crore?

Are such officers the products of an ambience where there is a premium on dishonesty? Or, is it that they have a DNA which prevails over any instinct to be straightforward? What is clear, however, is that unless New Delhi takes up a major exercise to promote honesty in public service, especially in the IAS and the IPS, the country will come to be looked upon as a banana republic by the rest of the world. The growing feeling among major investors from the developed world that they cannot do business in India without paying bribes is a matter of shame.

In the meantime, my advice to senior officers is this: put down any dissent from ministerial directions in writing, and just abstain from any decision that even remotely suggests any irregularity or illegality. Do this even at the cost of being victimised through suspension or being ignored for a significant position that is legitimately your due. These are golden rules which you can ignore only at your own peril.

(The writer is a former Director of the Central Bureau of Investigation.)

Censorship by 'pay-to-print'

When it comes to paid news, there's silence because, while Ashok Chavan might stand accused, it is the media who are on trial.

The year 2010 saw journalists, their associations and unions hold more conferences and seminars on one professional issue than any other. And it wasn't on the Wage Board or the Radia tapes. Hundreds of journalists across the country attended these meetings. Dozens stood up and spoke of their own experiences of the subject. Of how it demoralised them and ruined their profession.

Yet, the main topic of their discussion found no mention in the very newspapers, magazines or television channels they work for. Sometimes, the fact of the meeting being held, perhaps as an event attended by a High Court judge, was reported. But the subject discussed was not. In newspapers and TV channels, choking with stories on corruption, this is the one story you are the least likely to see. The media are their own worst censors when it comes to reporting on ‘Paid News.'

Just before the 2009 Assembly elections in Maharashtra, a large newspaper group in the State brought its editors together for a meeting in Pune. A lively discussion ensued on who would win the elections and the extent to which money power would play a role. Generally, it was agreed, winning a seat in the State legislature would cost Rs. 3 crore to Rs. 5 crore. (That was a huge underestimate, given the expenditures that actually followed.) With 288 seats in the Maharashtra legislature, a party had to win at least 145 in order to rule. This meant an expenditure of between Rs. 435 crore and Rs. 725 crore by the party or front that triumphed. On just the winning candidates.

The editors discussed a few known names of those who had that kind of money power. At this point, the daily's financial managers spoke up. If there's that kind of money being spent, said the cash-box boys, we should get a decent share of it. What, after all, is election expenditure but campaign and propaganda expenses? Detailed plans for ‘pay-to-print' were soon under way in one of the biggest media groups in the State.

Other groups were already ahead of them. A couple of them had already gained on this front during the parliamentary polls. The taste of success in that round had whetted their appetites.

Maharashtra, after all, sees more money than any other State being spent on worse things. Some media groups set themselves targets of 20 to 30 per cent of what they perceived would be the money splurged by the major candidates. Some even assigned cash targets to their different branches. This did not mean forgoing money from the defeated contestants or even the ‘other side' or front. It simply meant that you targeted a lower level of recovery from them. Losing candidates, alas, don't pay up.

Paid news comes in many packages: pre-paid, post-paid and yet-to-be-paid, for instance. There are also deluxe tariffs and aam aadmi tariffs, the former in crores, the latter in lakhs. Sadly, these media groups met, even exceeded, their targets.

But it's not just during elections that paid news or its Euclidian variants occur. The crazy saturation coverage of Davos in some channels was not caused by breathless public interest or media curiosity. It had a lot to do with ‘partnerships' and corporate subsidies the public can't see, and won't be allowed to see. Some channels sent out ‘rules' to their journalists of things that just had to be done. Rules with no particular journalistic rationale at all.

Now we have yet another Group of Ministers, yes, one more, to deal with Paid News. Has the Prime Minister reviewed its composition? It could end up hugely embarrassing to have a member of the GoM whose family owns a major newspaper that could be affected by any inquiry. Or another who, it might turn out, has represented corporate media groups in the past as a lawyer.

“Any news or writing appearing in a media (print or electronic) for a price in cash or kind in consideration” — that is how the Press Council of India (PCI) defined ‘paid news' last year. A lot of this, of course, boils down to advertising disguised as news coverage. In the 2009 elections, powerful media groups connived at the violation of spending limits in the polls by rich candidates and parties. Paid news did more damage to the media's coverage of those polls than any other factor. (Meanwhile, the odium the media earned themselves in the 2009 polls and after, saw this year's Padma awards giving journalism a wide berth. Less Padma, More Lakshmi?)

It is a scam worth more millions than anyone can accurately estimate. Most other institutions of Indian democracy and regulatory structures have tried doing something about it. But in the free media, there was a costly silence. Consider this: the Election Commission of India (ECI) has tried hard to curb the menace with a strong crackdown that actually saw candidates in the recent Bihar elections pulled up in over 87 instances of ‘paid news.' The ECI has also drawn up new guidelines and rules to help its officers spot and stamp out what is essentially a media management-driven racket. It now has a special division dealing with money power and paid news. And it has taken up a major case: of former Maharashtra Chief Minister Ashok Chavan's huge media blitz during the 2009 election campaign.

Almost nothing of this has been reported in the media, barring The Hindu and a couple of other publications. The hearings in the Chavan case have been fascinating too — with near-zero coverage. The ECI, normally treated with great respect by the media, has seen many of its initiatives on the ‘paid news' front simply being blanked out. So the public gets to know very little about how alive the ‘paid news' issue is. Will the case get bogged down in challenges of jurisdiction and in the courts, or will we see a decisive result, given the firmness of this ECI? As news, or as an issue, it ought to fascinate the media. But there is silence because, while Mr. Chavan stands accused, it is the media who are on trial.

Or take Parliament. It saw an astonishing consensus on this subject. The issue came up through a vital calling attention motion moved by Sitaram Yechury of the CPI(M), a clinical dissection of the problem by Arun Jaitley of the BJP, and with members from all parties in total agreement that ‘paid news' was disastrous for democracy. Across the spectrum, MPs demanded an end to the practice. Not a word on this Parliament debate appeared in most of the media. Much earlier, the country's Vice-President had detailed the ‘double jeopardy' that paid news placed Indian democracy in. One, it wrecked the concept of a fair and free press. Two, it undermined the democratic electoral process of the nation. Later, President Pratibha Patil voiced her concern over the damage this was doing to free media.

Or look at the Securities and Exchange Board of India. SEBI was disturbed by what ‘private treaties' between the media and private corporations were doing to news. (These ‘treaties' opened the floodgates for paid news.) It felt that such backdoor deals where corporates pay media companies in shares for advertising, plus other favourable coverage, could mislead investors. They “may give rise to conflicts of interest and may, therefore, result in dilution of the independence of the press vis-à-vis the nature and content of the news/editorials in the media ...” SEBI, therefore, got the PCI to make mandatory the disclosure of any such links. It sought to ensure that such disclosure would have to be made in any “news report/article/editorial in newspapers/television relating to the company in which the media group holds such stake.” Following this, one of our largest dailies carried a tiny line below a piece linked to the Lavasa private city project in which it admitted to having a minor stake. In the kind of font size that had Sherlock Holmes reading newspapers with a magnifying glass.

The PCI set up a two-member sub-committee, which produced a devastating 71-page report on Paid News (see The Hindu, April 22 and August 5, 2010). Buckling under pressure from powerful media owners, the PCI then betrayed its own ideals and the public by suppressing its report. However, that report is freely available online, even if banished from the PCI's website.

So the ECI, Parliament, SEBI and top political leaders have all contributed to the fight against the slaughter of honest journalism. Even the spineless PCI did so, before deserting ship. But in the media there is near-total silence. True, there are the exceptions. And the fact that all those journalists went public at those meetings shows how deep their resentment runs. But institutionally, the media's failure is huge and, if not reversed, will extract a terrible price. The corporate media have censored the Paid News story, browbeaten their own journalists and cheated the public of information it has every right and need to know.

Ram Lalla, a resident of UP

Ram Lalla, a resident of UP

October 2nd, 2010

By Antara Dev Sen

So it has happened. Ram has been demoted from a divine being to a mere earthly creature. He even has a birth certificate from the Allahabad high court. Soon he may be expected to acquire a voter identity card from Mayawati and a Unique Identity number from Nandan Nilekani. This court victory for litigant Bhagwan Sri Ram Virajman, among others, is just the beginning of his arduous life on earth. In a curious twist of destiny, the seventh avatar of Lord Vishnu is now in his worldly avatar as a UP-ite.

Dragged down from his heavenly pedestal by his fanatical followers, Ram has other problems too, as a historical being. He seems to have been born several centuries ago, no one knows exactly when (but they will, they will, just wait!) and is still in his infancy. This young VIP in Ayodhya, residing amidst ruins where the central dome of the Babri Masjid used to be, is Ram Lalla. It was in the name of this infant god that the centuries-old mosque was demolished by his followers. And thousands killed as a result. As an infant, Ram Lalla allowed what he would probably not have permitted as a grown-up Maryada Purushottama.

But while the infant Ram resides in this seat of violence he is reported to have all these heroic exploits as the prince of Ayodhya and Sita’s husband. Is dear Ram Lalla all grown up and married too? Why, there is even the Sita ki rasoi, his wife’s kitchen, right beside his nursery. Can he be both an infant and an adult at the same time? Can he be in several places at the same time? Sure he can, as a god. But as a historical being? When divine beings are reborn as earthlings, their wings are clipped. They cease to be gods. The same Allahabad high court may frown upon this claim of omnipresence from the litigant, accepting it may set a dangerous precedence.

As it is the courts set limits to the powers of gods. Recently the Bombay high court has ruled that gods are incapable of playing the share market as it turned down the petition from an association of gods demanding a account. But all these gods had PAN cards, insisted the gods’ counsel, and were shareholders already! Never mind, said the court, the gods did not have the “personal skill, judgment and supervision” required. When a god becomes a legal person, he needs to be judged accordingly.

And one of the powers that Ram has clearly lost in this court case is his divine ability to recreate himself and his world. “Ram is born in countless ways, and there are tens of millions of Ramayanas”, said Tulsidas in the 16th century. Not anymore. Ram has now been cast in stone, imprisoned forever in a unidimensional figure by this week’s historic court verdict.

Last year, when the Liberhan Commission finally released its report on the demolition of the Babri Masjid after 17 years, it made several recommendations. Regarding the authenticity of the claims of Ram Janmabhoomi/ Babri Masjid it said: “The question whether a structure was a temple or a mosque can only be answered by a scientific study by archaeologists, historians and anthropologists. No politician, jurist or journalist can provide a comprehensive answer to such questions… Therefore, set up a statutory national commission of experts to delve into these questions…” The government curtly replied that it was not necessary to appoint another national commission, the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI) would be enough.

This week, the court ruled in favour of Ram Lalla based on the findings of the ASI. Senior historians like Irfan Habib doubt the authenticity of the findings, and believe that evidence may have been planted that the ASI could not detect. The courts can only act on whatever information they are given. And our government bodies are not known for efficiency.

I feel for the ASI. What on earth could they do? In 2007, when they were asked to tell us about the Ram Setu, they had their heads bitten off. They had stated that being a science and technology department, they would have to examine the Ram Setu in a scientific manner, not “solely relying on the contents of a mythological text.” So, although ancient mythological and literary texts are culturally important, they are not historical records that “incontrovertibly prove the existence of the
characters or the occurrence of the events depicted therein”. It neither accepted nor denied Ram’s existence, and said that the bridge was not manmade, but naturally formed.

Immediately there were charges of blasphemy, ASI officials were suspended, the culture minister almost had to resign and the ASI was forced to change its view in the Supreme Court. Meanwhile the law minister said of course Ram was a historical figure — sure, he existed.

But which Ram was the historical figure? Valmiki’s demigod? Kamban’s god? Tulsidas’s literary deity? Krittibas’s homespun hero? Vimalasuri’s Jain champion? Chandrabati’s householder? The Santhals’ tribal hero? Periyar’s flawed protagonist? North India’s imposing Lord Ram is hardly present in southern India. In the east he is more of a mythical hero than a god, and he practically disappears in the northeast. In one court judgment we have swept aside our rich heritage of many Rams, each equally dear to the devotees of each region, swept aside thousands of years of cultural history and memory, and fixed on a “historical figure” — the UP-ite Ram Lalla, who is forever in infancy.

This is a sad day for our pluralistic tradition. Giving a third of the land to “Muslims” while “Hindus” get two-thirds may be politically expedient for the moment, but it will not stem the rot of refashioning collective memory. The verdict, well-meaning as it is, has been interpreted by Hindu fanatics as justification for their acts of desecration of the mosque. Unless the government moves on these criminal acts, and brings at least the culprits named in the Liberhan report to book, there will never be closure. And in his new avatar as an earthly infant, poor Ram Lalla woudn’t be able to protect us either.

- Antara Dev Sen is editor of The Little Magazine.