The Padma Obsession

On the eve of every Republic Day, which commemorates its recognition as a sovereign democracy and marks the commencement of its Constitution, India — or, more precisely, the Indian Government — announces the annual list of its best and brightest. And every year, as far as one can recall for at least the past three decades, the announcement of the Padma awards triggers an undignified barrage of acrimonious debate and controversy.

This year the controversy was “globalized” because one of the names that raised eyebrows is of New York-based Sant Singh Chatwal.

But it’s neither. The criticisms have gone beyond the realm of individual awardees and their qualifications and are now gnawing at the very root. There is a growing feeling that the awards, devalued over the years of appalling selections, are in fact corrupting the nation’s public life. Former Delhi High Court Chief Justice Rajinder Sachar excused himself from accepting the award in order “to keep public life free from any pollution.” (see sidebar) The activist-judge was referring obliquely to something that’s become sickeningly routine. When moneybags camp in New Delhi weeks before the announcement to wine and dine and line the pockets of the powers-that-be, and when the list includes names with family connections rather than genuine contributions to public welfare, you begin to see the wisdom of an old saying: What you can’t mend, you better end.

This year’s list has its usual share of shady choices. This time the controversy was “globalized” because one of the names that raised eyebrows is of New York-based Sant Singh Chatwal. Speaking long-distance to a reporter, allegedly from his yacht in the Caribbean where he’d flown in his private jet, the NRI hotelier, who hobnobs with the Clintons and their ilk, countered allegations of wrong-doing with: “If there was the slightest whiff of fraud, do you think presidents and ministers would walk into my home?” Perhaps Chatwal might want to rewind the Godfather DVD to Michael Corleone’s memorable line on the dubious ethics of modern politicians — “Who’s being naïve, Kay?” — when his girlfriend tells him presidents and senators, unlike his father (an underworld don), don’t have men killed.

Saif Ali Khan’s case is a more benign symptom of the same kind of political affliction. The Bollywood actor, whose innately boorish personality and trademark scowl made him the ideal choice for his best role and only decent performance to date in Omkara, has little to commend himself for a Padma Shri other than a genetic link with a royal family that’s known to cozy up to the Gandhis. Khan defended his inclusion by pointing out that the list also contained names of people who haven’t invented the atomic bomb. In the process, he unwittingly exposed an unspoken truth: he was in the good company of other nincompoops.

Apart from nincompoops, Saif Ali Khan — who, like his father Tiger Pataudi, was charged for poaching the endangered black buck — jostles in the award list with people who have had run-ins with the law. Ghulam Mohammed Mir is a notable example. A surrendered Kashmiri militant against whom cases of extortion and attempted murder are pending, Mir has been honored this year with a Padma Shri for public service.

Worse, awardees are known to deploy the awards as shields against due-process investigations. When Dr. K. Khalilullah faced charges of financial fraud as director of Delhi’s G.B. Pant Hospital, the authorities refused to initiate disciplinary action on the grounds that the good doctor happened to be “a nationally recognized specialist who has been honored with a Padma Shri and a Padma Bhushan.”

The latest Chatwal imbroglio too has a creepy political subtext. Insiders reveal that his nomination is part of a turf war between the Manmohan Singh administration and the Congress Party. While the latter’s spokespersons repeatedly emphasized that the Padma awards should never be associated with tainted names — thus hinting at Chatwal’s financial shenanigans involving Indian banks — the Home Ministry issued an official press statement describing Chatwal as “a tireless advocate of India’s interest in USA” and justifying the Padma Bhushan for his efforts “to strengthen bilateral relationships between India and the United States.”

On the misuse of the decorations, the Court noted with cryptic impatience that “it is axiomatic that the misuse of a concept does not change its inherent nature.” What it failed to note was the equally applicable axiom that the long-term systemic abuse vitiates it beyond repair and thus renders it unsuitable for the very purpose for which it was instituted. This failure is particularly significant in the light of the Court’s own observation that the criticism of misuse was leveled by no less a person than the freedom fighter Acharya Kripalani who, after chairing the Sub-Committee on Fundamental Rights, which abolished the colonial concept of “titles” like Rao Bahadur and Khan Bahadur for pliant natives, sought to abolish the Padma awards as well by introducing a Bill in Parliament. Kripalani’s failure was a victory for the vested interests in government.

To be fair, the Supreme Court did attempt an overhaul of sorts. But its guidelines have been breached with impunity. It mandated, for instance, that the awards shall not be used with the names of the awardees and ruled that such use shall render the awardee liable to be stripped of the award. In reality, the award names are used rampantly as prefixes even in public announcements. And at least one worthy, who

This year the controversy was “globalized” because one of the names that raised eyebrows is of New York-based Sant Singh Chatwal

Lamenting the absence of clear and transparent criteria for selection, the Court also mandated that the number of awardees in all categories be restricted to 50 or less. The number routinely exceeds 100: there are 130 awardees this year.

Leave aside, for a moment, the courts and the constitution. Let us ask ourselves some simple questions: Is the government really equipped to judge works of art, science and literature? Does a private-sector industrialist with no record of public service deserve a governmental award of any kind? Doesn’t such an award compromise the independence and integrity of citizens who are beholden to criticize and protest against ill-advised government policies and actions?

And finally, do the truly great need any official endorsement of their greatness? Remember, a certain Mohandas Karamchand Gandhi still remains the world’s beloved Mahatma six decades after his death, despite being denied the Nobel Peace Prize during his lifetime.