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The Hypocrisy of Politics

One of the first things I noticed when I became a member of Parliament three months back was that everyone expected me to be a fraud. It was, it appeared, part of the screenplay written for me.

The first thing people told me I must do, to be taken seriously, was to change my looks. Stop wearing jeans. Go to Fab India and get yourself some khadi kurta pyjamas or, better still, wear a dhoti. Sport white whenever possible. But look shabby and unkempt, was the next bit of advice. Grow back the hair on your head, said those who knew that I was shaved, not bald. Stop streaking your beard with strange colours. Stop wearing Oakleys. Do not go around with good looking young women on your arms. Everyone had a point of view on what I must be, what I must look like. But one thing was quite clear: I must not look the way I did. It was all wrong for my image.

Informed friends told me how John Major transformed his looks overnight, on the persuasion of his PR guys. How Al Gore changed his entire wardrobe. Others described how Rajiv Gandhi failed so miserably in politics because he did not quite look right, did not quite behave right. The Wranglers, the Reeboks, the love for pasta did him in, they argued, and when he finally did change his looks, after the V P Singh snafu, it was too late. The people of India had already rejected him as not exactly vote-worthy.

Look poor, they told me. Never go to fashionable bistros. Avoid five star hotels. Do not be seen entering a pub or a bar. If you must drink a vodka tonic, do it on the sly. And, heavens forbid, do not get onto the dance floor. Never be seen with a beautiful woman unless she is your mother, wife or daughter. Avoid other people's mothers, wives and daughters. Even if they happen to be single or divorced.

In fact, if you can, they warned me, avoid women in general. They can blackmail you later. Sell off your Pajero. Throw away your bright, fluorescent T shirts. Give away your flashy Versaces. And, for God's sake, take the stud off your ear or size it down.

I thought they were joking but soon realised they were not. They were genuinely worried for me. They felt that I needed serious advice on how to look, behave, be politically correct. Oddly enough, no one expected me to be correct correct. They were quite happy if I only looked correct. No one said: Don't take bribes. No one said: Take your responsibilities as an MP seriously. No one said: Serve the nation, work for the poorest of the poor, leave an enduring impact on India. These were, obviously, not priority concerns for them. The priority concerns were how I must look, what I must wear, what I must pretend to be.

It was not my friends alone. The moment I entered Parliament, I discovered that being phony was in fashion. The first example was my salary. In July 1998, the year of the Lord, my salary was a princely sum of Rs 1,500 and I was expected to hold no other office of profit. If you think I am joking, check it out. The lowliest government servants earn much, much more than that. So do your drivers, your cooks, your peons, your newspaper delivery boys.

It took me a little while to figure out why no one protested overmuch about this entirely unrealistic salary. The unlisted perquisites were substantially more. Constituency allowances. Personal assistants. Allowances for attending Parliament and Standing Committee meetings. These were all part of an MP's entitlements. As well as flats and bungalows, computers and printers, airline tickets and railway passes, gas coupons and subsidised phones. Even a free Internet account. Plus there was this one crore rupee constituency allowance instituted by the pouting genius, Narasimha Rao to ensure that MPs cutting across different party affiliations stood by him in his moments of crises. All, tax free. Entirely off the books.

I have nothing against perquisites. MPs, I guess, deserve to live well like anyone else. But the hypocrisy stinks. Why not show it all on the books and pay your taxers like every other Indian citizen does? Shouldn't we set an example?

Coincidentally, the issue came up for discussion in Parliament the very next month. But no one was even ready to listen to the proposition that the salaries of MPs should be realistic and on par with that of senior officers of the government. Instead, after decades of procrastination, during which inflation had driven up everyone's salaries and the cost of living, the salaries of MPs was raised to Rs 4,000. Even if you simply calculated the current value of the Rs 1,500, fixed so many years back, it would be Rs 65,000 a month.

Instead, hypocrisy prevailed. In fact, even this paltry rise was contested by the Marxists in Parliament who insisted that the salaries of MPs should not be increased when workers in public sector undertakings were not being paid their rightful wages in time. Very laudable in spirit, I guess, but not exactly realistic. Nor good for the morals of those who are supposed to be the custodians of the nation's morals. For we must realise the simple fact that if we do not give our MPs realistic salaries, they will make their ends meet in not exactly the most correct ways.

That is why it makes more sense to pay them proper, respectable salaries so that, like other citizens of India, they pay proper, respectable taxes instead of seeking shelter under the guise of amnesia every time they are caught fudging their tax returns and, in some cases, for not even filing them for years.

Secondly, it makes infinitely more sense for MPs to be paid to set up proper offices to serve their constituents. This happens all over the world. MPs need to attend to public complaints, research issues and topics they want to specialise in, travel extensively, read, learn, attend seminars, buy books, keep themselves informed. This is the only way public life can attract serious talent. The rogues and vagabonds who stray into politics, the crooks and scoundrels who seek refuge there, the geriatrics who end up earning their undeserved pension packages for sucking up to the political system during their working years now need to be replaced by decent, young, fresh-faced people who will see politics as yet another area of achievement and excellence. A career like any other. But one where they can truly serve India.

To make this happen, our MPs need infrastructure. They need facilities. They need to be taught, trained, informed, inspired. A free laptop is not the answer. They need to be educated as to how to use it optimally. They need to be given full fledged offices, where bright-eyed young men and women can serve as interns. To keep their MPs informed and educated about what is happening around them, in India and in other parts of the world. As India globalises, this is becoming more and more crucial. These clever, young, idealistic interns will also ensure that shady businessmen and dirty power brokers keep a distance from the office of the MP because they know that their reputation will be besmirched if their MP is compromised.

It does not matter how the MP dresses, what language he speaks, what community or caste he comes from, whether he shaves his head or his beard, whether he smokes or drinks or wears striped purple trousers. The more important issue is: Is he informed, articulate, sensitive to the real issues that beset his people, his constituency? Is he honest? Is he truthful? Is he committed? Do people believe in him? Do they respect him? Or do they simply elect him because he is a wicked, vindictive, lumpen pig who will torch the villages that do not vote for him, who will kill and maim those who stand up to him?

I have seen more selfish, corrupt, despicable men in khadi than I have ever seen in jeans and T shirts. Rapists and criminals do not necessarily smoke and drink and wear bright colours. As Phoolan Devi will tell you, most of them dress in white dhotis, do not go to pubs and discotheques, live a perfectly normal family life and yet exploit the weak and the vulnerable with unrelenting cruelty. Thieving and dacoity are not the exclusive preserve of those who live colourful lives. Charles Sobhraj may be an exception but most law breakers are not flashy people. They hide behind their anonymity.

It is time we stopped looking at appearances. It is time we stopped taking moral positions on the basis of entirely superficial considerations. Instead, we should try and create a system which would, under normal circumstances, attract to politics decent, committed, honest people. Not as a miracle. But as a rule.

This will happen when you and I and the educated middle classes stopped talking in terms of stereotypes and will focus, instead, on real people to tackle real issues in a real political environment. Only then will India find real leaders to lead it out of darkness into light, out of hypocrisy into truth.

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