http://www.livemint.com/…/Indias-elite-institutions-are-fac…
The Election Commission is responsible for this situation as the ex CEC
samapth suggested that the fraud EVMs could be replaced in a phased
manner as it cost Rs 1600- crore at that time. And the ex CJI committed a
grave error of judgement by ordering that the EVMs could be replaced in
a phased manner though the replacement itself was a clear proof that
the EVMs could be tampered. He never ordered for using Ballot papers
till the entire EVMs were replaced. And the software and the source code
developed by foreign countries were not shared with the public and the
Election Commission.

This helps the Murderer of democratic
institutions (Modi) for the country’s elite institutions which are
facing credibility crisis.

Too many corpses
A miasma of menace swirls around the Loya controversy

[The author has listed three
major pillars of Indian “democracy” and delved, in very brief though,
into their current state of health, and the crisis of credibility that
has arisen.
That gives an indication of the grave threat we’re right now faced with.]

http://www.livemint.com/…/Indias-elite-institutions-are-fac…

India’s elite institutions are facing a credibility crisis
The events of the last 12 months suggest that we should no longer take
the health of India’s apex institutions—Election Commission, RBI,
Supreme Court—for granted

Last Published: Tue, Feb 20 2018. 04 43 AM IST

Milan Vaishnav

In October, the Election Commission broke from convention by announcing
dates for elections in Himachal Pradesh while staying mum on Gujarat.
Photo: Mint
In October, the Election Commission broke from
convention by announcing dates for elections in Himachal Pradesh while
staying mum on Gujarat. Photo: Mint
The realities of India’s
institutions are captured most evocatively by Lant Pritchett’s notion of
a “flailing” state. Pritchett’s term refers to the fact that India’s
public institutions have a Jekyll and Hyde quality to them: an exclusive
set of elite agencies that are high-functioning and a patchwork of
lower-level institutions that are not. As Pritchett wrote: “the head,
that is the elite institutions at the national (and in some states)
level remain sound and functional but this head is no longer reliably
connected via nerves and sinews to its own limbs.”

If one were to
ask a reasonably well-informed Indian to name which of the country’s
apex institutions—the proverbial “head”—they held in high esteem, three
would invariably appear near the top of the heap: the Election
Commission (EC), the Reserve Bank of India (RBI), and the Supreme Court.
Indeed, these federal institutions are not only well regarded by many
Indians, but are also considered by many developing democracies as
models to be emulated.

Against this backdrop, one cannot help but
reflect on recent events and wonder whether India’s elite institutions
are as healthy as we had once thought. In the last 12 months, each of
the aforementioned institutions has experienced a crisis of credibility.
These events—and the systemic infirmities they point to—suggest that we
should no longer take the health of these apex institutions for
granted.

Start with EC, which is one of the world’s most
respected elections agencies.. It has historically benefitted from a
robust constitutional mandate, which granted the body wide powers and
significant independence from the executive. Whereas some developed
democracies struggle to implement even rudimentary improvements to their
electoral machinery, the EC routinely executes logistically complex
elections for millions of voters while relying exclusively on electronic
voting machines. But within the past one year, the EC’s judgement has
been called into question on several occasions. Consider two examples.

In October, the EC broke from convention by announcing dates for
elections in Himachal Pradesh while staying mum on Gujarat, despite the
fact that these two states have followed nearly identical electoral
calendars since 1998 (with the exception of 2002, when the assembly
polls in Gujarat were delayed on account of riots). Typically, the EC
holds elections together in states where the terms of the incumbent
governments coincide. The chief election commissioner (CEC) A.K. Joti’s
stated excuse for the delay was a desire not to disrupt flood relief
work underway in the state. Several former CECs, men not eager to speak
against their former agency, swiftly criticized the move. Former CEC
T.S. Krishnamurthy called the delay an “avoidable controversy”. The
Model Conduct of Code, which prohibits the government from announcing
new public schemes on the eve of elections, “does not stand in the way
of any emergency relief work”, he reasoned. Former CEC S.Y. Quraishi was
similarly puzzled, stating that the EC’s delay raised “serious
questions”. The reason for the strong reaction had to do with the
perception that the EC was giving the Bharatiya Janata Party (BJP)
government in Gandhinagar an advantage by ceding it more time to
announce populist schemes designed to woo voters, which is precisely
what transpired.

A second questionable act was the EC’s
about-face on the Narendra Modi government’s creation of a new political
funding vehicle known as “electoral bonds”. These bonds create a
mechanism for private actors to fund political parties through the
banking system rather than cash (a good thing), but without the actor or
the political party having to disclose a single rupee (a very bad
thing). The EC, which has been agitating for greater transparency in
political finance for decades, told a parliamentary panel in May 2017
that the scheme was a “retrograde step” because transparency would be
“compromised”. Former CEC Syed Nasim Ahmad Zaidi demanded that the
Indian people “have a right to know who has contributed to political
parties”. Yet, Joti proclaimed in mid-January that the scheme was a
“step in the right direction”. This was a disturbing flip-flop absent
any change in the underlying material facts.

Next, we come to
RBI, an agency with a respected track record on monetary policy, banking
and finance. While the RBI has often tussled with the executive when it
comes to the central bank’s independence, it has maintained high
standards of competence and professionalism. Unfortunately, the bank’s
credibility has taken a hit in the wake of the Modi government’s
demonetisation exercise. The ruling party has maintained that notebandi
was a call taken by RBI, although the facts suggest an alternative
narrative. On 7 November 2016, the government advised the RBI Central
Board that it ought to consider withdrawing Rs500 and Rs1,000 notes to
mitigate the triple threat of counterfeiting, terror funding and black
money. The very next day, RBI accepted the advice and that same evening
Modi went on national television to announce the move.

So, either
the RBI was used by the government or it genuinely backed the
half-baked measure. Either way, the institution’s stature stood
diminished—a position further supported by the foibles associated with
the policy’s sloppy implementation. To make matters worse, RBI then
prevaricated when it came to informing the public how much old currency
had come back into the system post 8 November. It was finally forced to
disclose in its August 2017 annual report that 99% of the notes that had
ceased to be legal tender wound up in Indian banks—an embarrassment to
the government. While it is true that the new Monetary Policy Committee
(MPC) has held the line on interest rates—much to the consternation of
the executive—one cannot help but wonder whether institutional lines
were crossed.

The third example of an elite institution grappling
with credibility issues is the Supreme Court, whose internal fissures
have played out in spectacularly public fashion. The Supreme Court has
historically enjoyed widespread popular support, especially when
compared to the highly uneven lower judiciary. Over time, however, a
number of structural issues affecting its operations have gone
unaddressed. One of these is the accumulation of power in the hands of
the Chief Justice of India (CJI). The CJI is the “master of the rolls”,
and therefore exercises considerable discretion both in setting up
benches and in deciding what cases get heard. In an unprecedented
January press conference, four Supreme Court justices accused CJI Dipak
Misra of selectively setting up benches in order to shape the outcomes
of particular cases pending before the court.

One notable example
involves the case of the Prasad Educational Trust, a matter which the
CJI had been overseeing. According to the Central Bureau of
Investigation (CBI), the trust had retained a retired Odisha high court
judge to “fix” the outcome of the Supreme Court’s decision. When an NGO
implored the apex court to set up a special investigation team (SIT) to
investigate the matter, Justice J. Chelameswar ordered the establishment
of a five-judge Constitution Bench to consider its plea. The CJI
quickly overruled his colleague, listing the matter before a bench of
relatively junior justices on which he also figured. Misra took this
decision despite the fact that he had been personally involved in the
Prasad case—the very one that required an independent investigation into
its handling.

Then of course there is the enigmatic subject of
Justice B.H. Loya, a judge who presided over a case in a special CBI
court in which BJP president Amit Shah stood accused of murder. After
Loya’s unexpected death, the court cleared Shah of all wrongdoing,
prompting many to speculate that Loya himself was murdered. Given the
sensitive nature of the case, the Supreme Court was compelled to take it
up, but Misra assigned it to a junior bench. Only after Misra’s
colleagues failed to persuade him to constitute a more senior bench to
hear the potentially explosive case did they decide to hold their
controversial press conference.

Sceptics might respond to these
examples by claiming they are aberrations linked to individual
personalities, rather than hallmarks of institutional malaise. Such a
reaction blinds us to the multiple systemic challenges India’s core
federal institutions face. First, across the board, Indian institutions
continually struggle with managing human capital, as evidenced by the
unending morass concerning judicial appointments. Second, exogenous
actions, like the passage of the Right to Information Act, have
compelled greater accountability to the public. Yet the quality of
external accountability is in doubt, as evidenced by how all three
institutions have struggled to balance the demands of public
justification with the temptation to hold on to discretion. Third,
internal accountability mechanisms have largely foundered. In nearly all
Indian institutions, power remains far too centralized in the hands of
the chief. Fourth, political interference remains an ever-present
obstacle. Much of this interference comes down to subverting behavioural
norms rather than actual violations of the law. As US President Donald
Trump has shown us, the grey area in between offers ample room to
manoeuvre.

The meta-lesson from the trials and tribulations of
India’s elite institutions is the stark divergence between the rule of
law in practice and the rule of law on paper. This should concern
Indians, but also foreign investors and governments seeking to do
business with India. India’s democracy is its most important calling
card, but its governing apparatus has failed to keep pace. For certain
public functions, there is scope for institutional regeneration from
below and state-level experimentation. Unfortunately, these remedies do
not apply to India’s core federal institutions. Either government must
tackle their challenges head on or risk facilitating greater
institutional decay.

Milan Vaishnav is senior fellow and director
of the South Asia Program at the Carnegie Endowment for International
Peace, and a co-editor of Rethinking Public Institutions In India
(Oxford University Press, 2017).

—
Peace Is Doable