Rejected Reactions, Accepted Tantrums: September 2005

September 20, 2005

Indian Babus, waste personified

Right to food, right to live, right to work and right to information. These are jargons in any government babu's dictionary. All these terminologies start with the word 'right'. Not the ' right' that is derived from the expression 'right sir' that the bureaucracy utters each time his mouth opens in front of a minister or superior. The right that we are talking of is something that is a birthright. Yet millions in India are deprived of this right since independence. Reason is very simple and silly - Superiority complex.
Being a journalist and ha

ving worked in a government department for over a decade, I have observed these government 'servant' classes at close quarters. I feel cheated each time I meet a government babu. I feel cheated to my nation and myself. Are these the people who are going to give life to administration?
The value of an administrative post enhances with the remoteness of geography. The more remote you are in, the more you are likely to be considered a king. Yes, King. This is the right word that can be used to describe the Collectors or Police chief or a District Forest Officer. I vividly recollege the experience that I had in as recent as this month when I visited Dholavira, sites of Harappan civilization (2500-1900 BC) situated at Khadir Bet in Kutchch desert. Life for the villagers is hard but they live. As I entered a forsaken Gujarat Tourism guesthouse, I noticed some ten Gujarat Forest officials directing the newly appointed cook on the finer points of cooking. Soon some three joined them more. Their numbers outnumbered the number of saplings in the entire district - remember, the largest district in India. Soon came the DFO on a visit to the area to supervise how the saplings have been planted. The DFO directly came for the lunch and then went to a newly set room to take rest. The others took turn to have their lunch. Now imagine, some twenty people wasting precious man-hours for a work that is shamefully carried out with utmost precision - to feed their boss. A lunch of DFO cost the state an entire day's official machinery, not to speak of other costs.
The Central Bureau of Investigation is on a 'raid' spree. The agency is successfully collecting revenues for government, which the revenue departments have not. Billions are recovered either in cash or in kind from each officer raided. The maximum causality always comes from the Income tax and Central Excise & Customs department. Almost all the officers that I have come across during my tenure as a lower level employee in Income tax department were corrupt to the core. They were not only corrupt in their dealings but also in their attitude and thinking. Most of them had only one ambition and that is to earn quick bucks and for that they need good postings. Most of them had wives who were in one business or the other. And most of these businesses were nondescript and where there were no buyers. Let us come from the past to the present tense. They are actually cover for their husband's wealth amassing quality and quantity. In less than two years of interaction with these officers while on the job and more than ten years of interaction with officers for reporting work, it has become a routine work for me to first think whether the officer is straight forward or not. There are indicators easily available. Go to an officer's chamber and if you see a portrait of a god man or a god woman, it becomes the first indicator of corruption and nepotism. But that is necessarily not the best indicators because some people who are 'overzealously' religious also puts up these pictures. But talk with the officer for ten minutes and you will find how deep he is into his job or how deep he is into his pocket. And the best judges are the people who give the officer marks on the basis of the work in the area.

Not yet finished. More indicators to follow

Binu Alex

September 15, 2005

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September 14, 2005

Opening up of Radio News

It is bizarre how the politicians in India are voted by the poor only to deprive the poor their rights. India’s radio policy is one of the best examples. Indian television is open to anyone and each month a new channel is launched. But the poor cannot afford a television and even if they can, cable is a distant dream. For them, radio is the only way of getting news and the government regulated broadcaster, All India Radio broadcasts news that is not only pale but biased, mostly catering to government needs.

"It's not only changed the public's view of reporting but it's changed the people's expectation of accountability within the authorities"

Read BBC Report © BBC

FM radio stations in major cities do not cater to the need of the poor. News has become a commodity reserved for the elite in India. A movie star visiting a temple is breaking news while starvation or poverty related news do not get that tag. News about the poor cannot break news, it actually kills it.

Read some articles related to the issue.

Broadcasting the good society

New Delhi is closer to accepting a progressive radio policy, but there is still more it can do. The India Together editorial.

May 2004 - Towards the end of its stay in power, the Vajpayee government's Broadcasting Ministry joined hands with civil society advocates for the creation of a progressive radio policy. This move came after over five decades of independence, and nearly 9 years following a landmark 1995 ruling of the Supreme Court that virtually outlawed government or commercial monopoly over airwaves. While it is tardy, it is nonetheless positive.
In the meantime, all over the world, radio has come to stay. Radio stations are relatively cheaper to establish, operate, and run than television. Advertising revenues are lower than those from TV, but the numbers of radio stations are several multiples of the numbers of TV stations. Radio is a local and personal medium. Given a good balance of regulation, grievance redressal, public service programming, community and commercial broadcasting, radio audiences will grow, and so will the developmental and cultural experiences of listeners. This has been observed in many countries, both West and East.
But in stark contrast to regulation of TV, telecom and recently mobile telephony, successive governments have been unwilling to give up their control over radio broadcasting. Even today, AIR remains the dominant player and is the only public broadcaster funded with tax rupees. The few commercial FM stations licensed so far have run into a viability crisis barely a couple of years into their operation, thanks in part to exhorbitant license fees. (see Frequencies of expectation, May 2004). There are even fewer non-commercial stations, notably ones run by the Indira Gandhi National Open University, and the most recent one at Anna University, Chennai.
In 2003, the Amit Mitra committee reviewed the crisis in the commercial FM sector and made definitive recommendations. The committee did not delve too deeply into issues tying down community broadcasting and non-commercial radio, but two recent developments have brought this element to the fore. First a Community Radio (CR) workshop in New Delhi saw top bureaucrats from the Ministry of Information and Broadcasting, several stakeholders and practitioners from Indian civil society and UNDP executives coming together to talk enabling community broadcasting in India. This engagement led to broad sharing of concerns from both sides of aisle, government and people. Second, the Telecom Regulatory Authority of India (TRAI) has commenced holding a series of consultations on phase II of FM licensing that includes licensing and regulation of non-commercial FM stations. What's more, the regulator has recently announced that it will hold separate consultations for regulatory issues on CR.
For its initial consultation paper, TRAI must be commended. The document has a clarity that has been sadly uncommon in our government. For each broad issue in FM radio regulation, the TRAI paper outlined the problems, placed the Amit Mitra FM committee's recommendations next, and then proceeded to pose the questions that the public could answer. This structure made it possible for several informed but time-constrained individuals and civil society organizations to send in their inputs before the May 7 deadline. India Together submitted one as well.
Both the Ministry-UNDP workshop in Delhi and the TRAI initiative have created a buzz among campaigners for radio, as well as applicants for future non-commercial licenses. It is now hoped that consultations will help bring an informed discussion on several policy questions and concerns, and allow an enabling framework for both non-commercial and commercial FM radio to emerge.
The questions on the table are serious. Many centre on whether or when licensing policy must differentiate between non-commercial and commercial stations. May both be allowed to broadcast news and current affairs? Must the same revenue sharing and entry fees be levied on both types of stations? Must we permanently reserve sets of FM frequencies for non-commercial broadcasters? Can there be narrow content restrictions on non-commercial stations with monitoring from the government? Surely, there are distinctions. But a uniform constitutional framework should guide the regulatory role in both commercial and non-profit radio broadcasting. In addition, there is an abundance of international experience for reference.
This momentous phase of consultations coincided with the elections; democracy has just delivered a new executive to run the nation. New governments have a tendency to bring uncertainty to all policies advocated by the outgoing one. But this is also a time of opportunity for the incoming political leadership to look at its own history of decades of tying down radio and yet demonstrate its differences from those just evicted. In the broadcasting world, this turns largely on this question: will the new government be more willing to accept that whatever policies are pursued, they must not end up placing freedom-of-speech restrictions on non-commercial stations? Civil society groups that remain engaged with the TRAI consultations are keenly interested in the answer.
In a truly progressive society, determination of what we mean by the word 'progressive' is ultimately done by citizens and communities themselves. Policies conscribed by the government's understanding of this word, however well-intended they may be, may not meet the public's interest recognized by the courts. The telecom authority as well as the government must bring and retain this consideration at the forefront of their discussions.

Voices of the marginalised

In the poorest part of Jharkhand, community radio has become an important instrument for the development of neglected communities. If access to their own media were freer, the villagers believe, things could be even better. Pratibha Jyoti reports on the progress made even without government support for community stations.

14 March 2005 - The villagers of the Angada Block in Jharkhand's Ranchi district had for long been asking for the basic facility of a school - an appeal that had been expressed, until now, through letters and invitations to the local administration and the government. What finally drew the attention of Savra Lakra, the MLA of the Khijli Vidhan Sabha, was a play performed by the villagers on the dire need for schools in the village. This programme was aired on FM Ranchi, as part of a community radio initiative in Angada Block, on the day of its inauguration on 31st October 2004. It forced the legislator to come all the way and promise the villagers that they will soon have schools in their village.
As Etwa Bedia, the field coordinator of the Community Radio initiative, enthuses, "The villagers have been given a new life with this initiative. The Community Radio has become a tool through which the villagers can now have their voices heard by the policy makers." "Radio is a medium that is cheap and has an excellent reach. Most villagers already have or have now bought a radio set. It is our forum where we can reflect on our every need and problem," says Malya Bedia, a resident of one of the villages.
Initiated by Charkha Development Communication Network, this Delhi-based NGO aims to empower the rural poor and the disadvantaged communities and to articulate voices that highlight the local issues to the opinion leaders and policy makers. Initially as part of a Pilot Project Community Radio initiative in Jharkhand, in association with the regional partner, Manthan Yuva Sansthan, a need-based study was conducted of selected community people, who were then trained to develop and design a half hourly radio programme in a magazine format. As Mohammad Shakeel, the Associate Coordinator of Manthan, explains, "It is the villagers themselves who choose the issues to be aired in a programme". The residents of these 17 villages are not only the listeners, but also the directors of and performers in this half-hour programme.
The popularity of the show is evident by the fact that every Sunday at 6:30 pm the villagers are glued to their respective radio sets and small transistors. Expressed through issue-based plays, folk songs, development news and discussions, the initiative has made the residents not only socially aware but has also made them confident enough to take their local issues and challenges to the concerned officials. The final script is anchored by the two sutradhars -Etwari Behan (in the voice of Rita) and Somra Bhai (narrated by Ramdhan Bedia).
Now it is through radio that news on various government schemes, Panchayati Raj and news on rural development, is being aired in the local dialect of Panch parganiya. The villagers now know the number of houses being made under the Indira Awas Yogana and the quantity of food grain being distributed among shopkeepers under the public distribution system.
Rita, one of the narrators, begins her day by practicing her script, for which she has to walks down a whole 3 kms, to the Mungadih village. "Since the day community radio has entered the village, the inequality between the men and women of this village has lessened. When Manthan approached me with the suggestion to present the programme, my husband and mother-in-law were totally against it. But I had made my decision and quietly came for the recording of the programme. Now my husband is very proud of me," grins Rita.
As Rita explains, earlier the women of the village were hesitant to discuss their personal problems and local issues. But the community radio has given them a platform to share their views confidentially and seek guidance on the same.
But why Angada block? Sudhir Pal, the local coordinator of the community radio initiative, explains, "Despite the formation of the new state, none of the villages have witnessed much positive change. But Angada is such a block, where none of the development work has yet reached. Here people do not have even the basic facilities of roads, electricity, education and basic health care. The community radio initiative is a platform for these voices of the marginalised, which will help the community to fulfill their needs and aspirations." Moreover, the block is placed strategically, for the nearest town to the region is the capital city of Ranchi, which is also the political seat of the state.
Statistics show that this block is one of the poorest and the most backward regions of Jharkhand. Here, of a total population of 1 lakh people, 45% are scheduled castes, and 15% are scheduled tribes. Sustaining themselves on forest and farming, the residents, with difficulty, grow crops of wheat and Marua, for there is just one source of irrigation, which is the hand pump. Although many hand pumps have been built in the region, only one or two actually have a water connection. Under such circumstances, rainwater becomes the more viable option for the farmers. There is one PDS shop that opens rarely and that too only for few hours. For the past 20 years, one can see electricity poles, but till today the villagers are yet to witness the electricity connection.
In such a situation, the community radio - a social, cultural and political tool - has become an important instrument for the development of the marginalised communities. "The impact of the community radio shall be greater when the government gives organisations and communities the access and the freedom to own radio stations. One cannot hope for much social change until community radio enjoys the same freedom as does the television, newspapers and other magazines," comments Charkha Chairperson, Shankar Ghose.
There are many obstacles to the growth of the radio, he explains. In 1995, P.B. Savant, the noted Supreme Court Judge had claimed that the public had full right over the airwaves. Despite this, Prasar Bharti still has control over the free airwaves. In the process, one needs to have a license for the community radio and the process to acquire it is so complex that one needs to gain permission from at least four Ministries (Home, Defence, Human Resource and Foreign). The Broadcasting Review Bill, which has not been cleared for the past four years, can bring new hope to more initiatives such as these, in every district of every state. Meanwhile, one may only hope that the sounds of silence in the Angada Block, Ranchi are broken for good by the voices from the marginalised.

September 10, 2005

Different shades of protests

By Binu Alex

In the world’s largest democracy a true form of opposing is through protests. Then today can you put across your protest to the ‘men in power’ by merely doing what Mahatma Gandhi did? The colonial masters at that time were decent. They respected the way Gandhi and his followers made their displeasure clear in the form of fast unto death or civil disobedience. It had a big impact and ultimately, these form of non-violent protests created history. In countries that has a matured civil society, these form of protests still make a big impact.
And this is what created the trend for the most recent anti-poverty protests against G8 summit at Gleneagles. And the demand was more universal and humane than ever before - to make a commitment to tackle poverty in Africa. And this attracted about 225,000 people and was mostly trouble-free.
Compare this to the protest that some groups claiming to be the protectors of Islam are doing. They know that an eye for an eye will make everyone blind. Most parts of Africa have a major influence of Islam and is terribly poverty ridden. It is for the G8 nations, all Christian dominated countries – to relieve the debt.
The rich Arab nations have no such agenda and not surprisingly there is no protest or Live 8 concerts ahead of any meetings of Arab nations.
This is because of the protestors are well aware that their voices will be heard. Back home in India, we have unique ways of protests. The first and the foremost is to destroy public property. In a world where television cameras zoom around even in bedrooms, the modern day protestors know such actions are bound to climb to the transponders and to televisions in the bedrooms within no time.
As a matter of fact, during the recent VHP bandh, one of the protestors was seen holding a flower pot at the Indore airport and threw it at the window only after ensuring that the camera was rolling.
In a state like Gujarat, the scenario is entirely different.
Much has been written about the way Gujaratis function within the state or outside it. Within the country or outside. One thing that any Gujarati loves to hate is disruption in their day to day activity – whether they are businessmen, a cab driver or a service sector employee.
And that is the reason I don’t remember a hartal or a bandh in Gujarat in my possible memory. Not even during the time when Gujarat was burning after the Godhra episode in 2002. Even during the bandh call given by the VHP, I could see shop owners with their shutters half shut or half open.
This I always compare to the atmosphere in Kerala where people are anxiously waiting for any obsolete unknown entity to call for a Bandh so that they can down their shutters, stop the transport services and keep away from road. Half of the year in this tiny state is wasted in hartals, bandhs, secretariat march, gherao and the list is endless. I wondered how people get time to do all these activities from their busy schedule and decided to ask a local functionary of a party in central Kerala.
His name was Raghavan with no prefix or suffix. “Just call me Raghavan, that’s all”, he ordered me sitting under a thatched roof. Rains soaked the two wooden benches and the only dry fibre chair was occupied by this dark guy with beard that can hide a medium sized frog that leaped around the tent. On the left corner, the hammer and sickle on the posters also got soaked. Even after an hour with him and after having drank three full glass tea, what I got was only his name. But he apologized to me and I pardoned him seeing how busy he was. He was coordinating to organize a ten kilometer march protesting the suicide of an engineering student in a hostel apparently because her poor parents were unable to pay her fees. Sticks and flags were all ready and some ten youths in their coloured dhoti stood outside waiting for orders. In between to make me feel at home he further identified himself as the zonal secretary of the party and patted himself how influential he is in the power corridors. “If you have any work here, let me know.” I nodded. As the youths sat outside to tie the flag to the bamboo sticks, I started again. To my question of where he is employed, he had a long pause. And the pause continued for another five minutes before I pressed the play button again. “Where do you work?” I repeated myself.
“I work for the party,” he broke the silence. “And I get no money for this,” he answered even without me putting my next question.
“Well, I get some money here and there serving people. And I get work done for people here whether it is sanction for electricity or some other work,” he revealed his source of income.
“But how much?”
“Not fixed. Some times it exceeds Rs 10,000 and at times, I don’t even get for my smoke,” he ordered an orderly outside to bring a Wills.
Wills Cigarette, he explained, is a status logo and he graduated from Bidi to Wills after his regular monthly ‘service’ income.
“What about these guys,” my query continued and I was referring to youths sitting outside eagerly. All in their twenties and well built. They had trimmed hairs and at least half of them had beards, a tradition in Kerala. I could not make out their religion though at least two of them had sandalwood paste on their forehead which indicated they were Hindus. I did not care to ask Raghavan about their religious identity.
“Well, I started from where they are now. By the time I reach some position in the state, they will reach my position. ,” Raghavan replied as I moved to a corner as rains began to make me feel I should move to safe place to protect my recording equipments. “But only if they work hard,” he did not forget to add his hard work in becoming zonal secretary.
Now it was my turn to turn point blank. I asked Raghavan whether he feels too many hartals is necessary for an industrially broken state like Kerala.
“My mother is from Kottarakkara and I know how owners of cashew nut pealing factories exploited the workers. We strongly protested and now they have come in line. Hartals are the only form of protest in a democratic society. It is our right and we will continue to call hartals if injustice is meted out to labour force,” his voice changed and his eyes looked as if he will call for a hartal against me asking a foolish question.
I sat with him for another hour and moved out thanking him for his time. He showed no emotions and I felt he got a big relief by having me out of his ‘zonal office’.
As I moved to the bus stand the rains had stopped. I got a bus and during my one hour journey back home, I recollected one of my friends explaining about the condition of men and women who toil to get cashew kernels and dry roasted nuts. Their hands are burnt beyond repairs. More than working in the factories in and around Kollam, they were busier protesting and striking work. To move out from capitalist owners of these factories, they formed cooperatives. One such cooperative is Kerala State Cashew Workers' Apex Industrial Co-operative Society (Capex), which remains closed for most part of the year.
The country exported 1,01,078 tonnes of cashew and 7,516 tonnes of cashewnut shell liquid at an aggregate value of Rs. 1,898 crore for the period from January-December 2002.
And a majority of these came from Kerala’s burnt hands. Well, almost all the factories closed unable to take the brunt of the continuing strike and thousands who worked in these factories started mortgaging their jewelries first and small pieces of land later.
This was a decade ago and I immediately thought I should move to Kollam region to find out a family to showcase how the strikes have benefited or ruined them. It took no time for me to find out one as I got down at Chengamanad. I asked the worker at the teashop whether he could find one for me. He asked me wait for a while and I ordered a tea and a piece of cake. It was noon time. I counted at least four non-stop state transport buses zooming at the speed of light and sound. There was none from the place to board the bus that charged more than the ordinary ones. They were called Super Fast, Limited Super Fast and Express buses. While I looked around for some familiar faces, I saw the tea shop owner coming out. He had a towel wrapped around his neck as he came out.
He was Tulsidharan aged 53 but his wrinkled face made me believe he was much beyond that. Among other things, he said his two children go to ‘parallel’ college. I never realized that he was explaining about himself because the family that I asked for was none other than his own.
“Saare. I am the best example of this themmaditharam (loosely translates into barbarism) “, he whispered.
What transpired between me and him was abruptly interrupted by the bakery owner who gave him final ultimatum to get back to work. He asked me to come home but his skill of putting words to work in explaining his condition was enough for me to understand the plight of thousands like him.
I thanked him and while paying the bill for the tea and cake, I thanked his boss.
Tulsi and his wife worked in a cashew factory getting a decent sum. His factory owner also provided him gloves for protecting their skins. They had no workers union but Tulsi believed the owner promptly paid whatever was due. Some of his friends, were not as lucky. They complained to him about the exploitation workers were facing – low wages, long working hours. He had ESIC benefit and so could avail health insurance.
But all of a sudden, a campaign began outside the premises of the factory that began enrolling workers in a trade union movement. Tulsi was not interested initially but within no time he and his wife were forcefully made members of the union. No sooner did the union distributed receipts of the union fee collected; one of the trade union leaders sought an appointment with the owner. It was refused since the owner said he had nothing to discuss. Next day, a banner came up on the approach road that displayed how the owner exploited the workers. A day later a strike call was given and this is all what Tulsi remembers in chronological order.
But that started his problem as the strike continued initially for weeks, months and then the owner closed down the factory rendering thousands without any job. In fact, the owner shifted his factory to Kerala-Tamil Nadu border where many of the Kollam factories now function. Some of the loyal workers, including Tulsi, were sent messages whether they would be interested to work at the new place. Tulsi was not since he could not leave his ancestral home and children were too young to leave for a new place. He never got into a job thereafter since one by one factories closed down. The irony is that his wife still goes to one of the factories to do the same work that she did in her prime. The difference is that she is neither covered for insurance nor she has fixed working time or fixed wages. Whatever she is given, she accepts and so does thousands like her who work in dingy places.
I took the address of the factory but Tulsi told me that it was impossible to locate since the factory had no address to look out for. He called a rikshaw guy in khaki and explained the place to him.
The rikshaw stood first in the line and as he started the engine, he had too many questions for me and about me. I said I am here to know facts. More questions without answers followed and finally he resigned to his fate.
I was enjoying the green paddy fields and cool breeze along with Malayalam songs that came out of wooden speakers on either side of the rear of rikshaw. The guy must have spent double to the cost of the vehicle in decorating it. All sorts of names decorated around. It seemed as a mobile name distribution service. There were so many in different colours. The vehicle was well maintained and as we reached halfway it began giving trouble. The driver turned back, put his hands in between my legs. For a moment I thought he was seeking pardon for the volley of questions he asked before the journey. He was actually trying to turn the key to reserve petrol position. Soon he stopped the vehicle and showed me a place with asbestos sheets all around. Smoke that originated from one corner was too heavy for me to believe that it was a small place. The rikshaw driver explained that some five hundred women worked at a time. Accidents arising out of fire are nothing new, he added, but very few are reported. Suddenly some heads began to play hide and seek from the black coloured sheets. The driver said it was no safer to be there as he feared they may question him about my intentions.
This is what how people like Raghavan transformed Kerala. The state may boast of literacy and political awareness but it lacks maturity. Even serious introspections will not solve the problem as the damage has already been done. Kerala failed to convert high literacy rates into opportunities.
I have also seen the worst part of this scenario in Gujarat. In Sabarkantha’s tribal regions, some of the labourers were paid less than ten rupees per day in their drought relief work by the contractors appointed by the government. Not to waste this money in heavily loaded jeeps that ferry them, almost every one walks back to their houses, normally located in a dungar (high place or a mountain). This distance vary from two to seven kilometers.
Where to strike a balance is the question that I ask myself. Which is right and what is wrong (read left).
Right wing Hindu groups have the strongest presence in Gujarat yet they always exempt the state from all types of hartals. That is the smartness in which they work. Even if they are forced to call for a bandh, there will be no major damages. You don’t need an intellectual brain to understand that this is because they have business interests in the state. I have never heard of any business chambers in Kerala coming out with figures as the Gujarat based Chambers of commerce. Each minute is accounted for and the precious time lost in trading is precious money lost.
If at all any bandhs have to be conducted, I heard one of my stock broking friends heard saying, it should not be between 10 AM to 3.30 PM, the working hours of BSE and NSE.
But responding to the call made in Gujarat, I am sure Kerala will observe a total bandh. Roads will be isolated and only ambulances and press people will be allowed to ply around. Largely people prefer to remain within four walls during any bandh.
So what is the best way to protest? Indians are yet to innovate ways of protests. In western countries celebrities are known to be taking stands. That is why Live 8 concerts had Madonna to George Clooney. You will not find Aamir Khan, Amitabh Bachhan or Shahrukh Khan condemning Gujarat riots. They cannot afford to do because ultimately what count is economics.
So what is the best way to protest in India? How can you put across your points to the concerned authorities as peacefully and democratically as you can? How?