The Problem
with the Civil Services
Jawhar
Sircar
But reform what? The entire system?
Or the IAS? Well, the central bureaucracy has some 33 lakhs employees, where
the IAS numbers less than 500 — which comes to just 0.015 percent. All states put together employ 2
crores and IAS officers count around 5000, which is too tiny to count. Yes,
they do occupy many senior posts and these stark figures are only to clarify to
many who equate the whole bureaucracy with the IAS. Similarly, the top central
services constitute too tiny a number in the ocean of officialdom. Who will
bring in the change? Let’s face it: if the most dramatically hyperactive prime minister in Indian history could
make nothing more than a few scratches on the surface of the huge bureaucracy
in almost seven years, God alone knows who can to turn it around? And accusing
the IAS, the IPS or the central services for the ills of the entire system that
they largely inherited may give vent to built-up steam, but is, frankly, like
blaming the driver for whatever is wrong with the car. There is, of course, a
counter point that this driver is also a qualified mechanic and, several who
reach the top do play a considerable role in automobile engineering or crafting
the system. One cannot thus evade total responsibility.
It is a
different matter altogether that the political class has taken over all major
policy-making responsibilities. Even after so many committees and commissions,
senior-most officers have not succeeded in convincing their rulers to de-weed
the system or introduce structural changes. The takeover by the political class
started with Indira Gandhi and whatever little autonomy still existed was
stamped out vigorously by Narendra Modi. No doubt about that. Why don’t the
officers revolt? They do — not revolt, but some surely differ, at least till
recently. The terrible fate of those officers in Gujarat who differed with Modi
or stood up to him are, of course, fresh in the minds of all. Also fresh is the
sight of the disproportionate amount of goodies heaped on those who agreed with
boss and did even more. The ‘beheading’ of several top secretaries at the top
strata in the central government is recent memory most would, therefore, like
to be as ‘proper’ as possible. A few, of course, fantasise of the good times
that were showered on those who destroyed constitutional bodies to grovel. But
before branding the whole lot of officers as spineless, we may like to look
around to see which corporate or media house or merchant’s outfit rewards those
who differ. Public services were, of course, better but the degree of
difference has come down a lot — at least where the cherries are concerned.
Many of
our generation who took to ‘reforms’ at our level and insisted on digital
correspondence more than a decade ago enthused practically no one. As Culture
secretary, one was gently advised that the quick decisions one took over email
did not really count unless they were “reduced to writing” in bulky files and “duly
authenticated”, ie, signed. Many babus were also concerned at the “lack of
secrecy” over mails, until I explained that if the Indian state could surely
not be threatened by an exchange of emails on where to hold the next folk dance
festival. The nay-sayers were bullied into submission, but in the next posting
(as head of the public broadcaster), one has on record a note from an officer
of the rank of Director General refusing to go digital on the ground that the
Rules did not provide for this banal option — at least not then. Officials were
obviously more accustomed to waiting for long periods for bulky files with
familiar bureaucratic notes from Section Officers to climb several layers up,
over many days, with those above this wise man just adding their signatures on
it. These files took (and still take) equally long periods to travel down, past
so many autograph-adding strata. This is a small example of how the system
simply refuses to change habits — but if the order came from someone dreadful
(like the PM), officials would sing choruses and change somewhat. They would,
of course, snicker at his folly, during their longish tiffin breaks.
One
often wonders what on earth happens to those bright, highly-qualified thousand-odd
young men and women who emerge successful each year in the civil services
examination — out of the 11 lakhs who apply and 5.5 lakhs who actually appear
at the test. This small number (it went down to 750 recently) represents one
the toughest tests in the world and the profiles of many are, indeed, what any
multinational corporation would lap up for many, many times the salary that the
Indian nation offers. These few undergo a fairly long, rigorous multi-faceted
training that has largely adapted with the times. It converts a heterogeneous
mass from impossibly diverse backgrounds and disciplines into a more determined
‘mission team’, but this is the story of only the higher services. We overlook
the fact that the large three-fourths or more of the pyramid below this level —
the cutting edge of the clerk, the constable and village official — remains
pretty much the same as it was ages ago. True, some sort of a training is
sought to be meted out, often too late in the day, but the denizens of these
really powerful layers pick up survivors’s guidelines and tricks of the trade
from wizened seniors. The upper bureaucracy simply cannot deny that it has
hardly succeeded in instilling its sense of mission into these levels — that
really interface with our citizenry the most. And, it must, therefore, share
the blame for this largely incorrigible lot. It is not as if this army of babus
and sipahis is all that bad — it has, as we all know, the good, the bad and the
ugly. The last two remain imbedded in public imagination. Some clerks or
constables revel in showing off their power (which is far disproportionate to
their rank and pay); some create problems as they are obsessed with rules and
their rigid interpretation, while a sizeable number uses whatever is available
to extort whatever is possible from people.
So
dependant is the upper strata of the bureaucracy on this ‘army’ that it can
hardly reform or punish it. Even the stubborn few who are fired by zeal
ultimately concede to the persuasion of the middle layers that deals with them,
day and night. And when the corrupt section of the upper strata makes hay while
the sun shines, it naturally works hand in glove with those whose depredations
are proverbial. When one hears of very young IAS officers hell bent on making
money from day one, one hangs one’s head in shame. Every time a crisis happens
or a scandal breaks out, there is a witch-hunt that can hardly succeed in
ferreting rats out of holes, but it ends up by further tightening rules or
procedures. This actually facilitates the corrupt to extort even more. The
procedure to punish is so, so complicated and time consuming that one thinks
twice before initiating action. One is still suffering in courts many years
after retirement (and paying from one’s pension) to defend for bona fide
actions taken against despicable officers years ago. Naturally, the wiser
decide not to take action. Dealing with corruption and stronger punitive action
are crying for attention, but who will bell the cat?
