It must be a matter of great surprise and even dismay for the citizens of India that Parliament could not discuss the Manipur situation so far because of the dispute over technicalities of certain rules in the rule book. No one can convincingly explain to the public that the discussion stalled because of a disagreement between the ruling party and the opposition on the rule under which the discussion should be held. The government was prepared for only a short-duration discussion which does not entail voting in the House, and the Home Minister will reply to the debate. On the other hand, the opposition in both Houses reportedly wanted the Prime Minister to reply to the discussion. The ruling party does not agree to it for some arcane reason, and so the stalemate.
This is symptomatic of the adversarial politics which has almost completely dismantled the moral framework in public life bequeathed to us by India's freedom movement. Parading naked women in public and gang-raping them does not shock us enough now. Otherwise, the public reaction would have been of a different level and scale. Parliament, too, in a way, mirrors this moral weariness of the public. So, except for a few perfunctory editorial comments, the public has not demonstrated any great outrage over the happenings in Manipur.
Indian society is facing a serious moral crisis. The value system nurtured by the freedom movement and the political culture promoted by the leaders who led the nation in the republic's formative years is almost disappearing. These are being replaced by the arrogant unconcern about traditions, rules, norms and civility. Perhaps this unconcern is the zeitgeist of the new India. How can Parliament remain impervious to it?
The systems of Parliament are designed to enable it to debate issues of national importance with the urgency they convey. Rules are for regulating debates and other businesses. Members use these rules for raising multiple issues in the House. These have different purposes and emphases. Certain rules can be used to censure the government, others to discuss a matter. Some rules make a vote in the House mandatory. It is fundamentally the members' right to take recourse to a particular rule to highlight an issue the way they want. The seriousness or urgency of an issue depends on the rule under which the discussion takes place. For example, a Lok Sabha House rule can be invoked to discuss an urgent matter which signifies the government's failure by adjourning the debate on all the listed matters in a day's agenda. It is called an adjournment motion containing an element of government censure. Generally, the presiding officers disallow this notice on some specious grounds, but the real reason is that it is a censure motion against the government of the day. This rule gives a member the right to berate the government on an issue which signifies its failure and seek a vote in the House to drive home that point. The point here is there are enough rules in the rule book which allow critical appraisal of the government's performance and censure it for its failures. But the problem arises when the government flatly refuses to allow discussion under a particular rule. It is actually the Speaker's function to allow or disallow a discussion under a certain rule. But experience shows that the government finally decides the nature of discussion. If the government strongly disagrees with a discussion under a particular rule, the presiding officers generally do not allow such discussion. This creates a ruckus in the House. A dissatisfied and helpless opposition would then try to obstruct the proceedings continuously, and the government would squarely blame the opposition for not helping to run the House.
In the Manipur case, too, the same thing happened. The government was prepared to discuss the matter under an innocuous rule 176, allowing a short-duration discussion without motion and voting. Voting becomes meaningful not because the government will lose on the floor of the House but because it is perceived to be politically inconvenient or uncomfortable for the government. The opposition wants to censure the government for what happened in Manipur, which the government does not welcome. The parliamentary logjam begins here.
Similarly, the government rejects the opposition's demand for the Prime Minister to come to the House and make a statement. Both sides remain adamant, and the stalemate continues. Hopefully, the no-confidence motion will end this stalemate because the Prime Minister has to reply to the debate.
This, in short, is the story of the stalemate.
Article 75(3) of the Constitution says that the council of ministers headed by the Prime Minister shall be collectively responsible to the House of the People. This embodies the fundamental principle of executive accountability to Parliament, which is the essence of parliamentary democracy. Under this system, the ministers, including the Prime Minister, are accountable to Parliament 24 hours and 365 days. In such a system, whether the prime minister should reply to a debate or make a statement in Parliament on an important issue cannot arise the way it has arisen in the Indian Parliament now.
The present situation contains alarming possibilities. There is no denying that the people no longer look at Parliament with the same awe they had 71 years ago when free India's first Parliament came into being. The fascination generated by freedom and the new Parliament elected by a free people has given way to a strange kind of ennui and indifference reflected in the public's attitude towards Parliament and politics in general. It should not be forgotten that the Indian Parliament has established and followed healthy traditions in the past, which enabled it to navigate difficult and complex situations. The contacts, interactions and dialogues between the treasury benches and the opposition, and at different levels, happened even in times of great stress in their relationship. The parliamentary affairs minister would always act as the bridge between the government and the opposition, which generated a certain degree of trust and confidence in the opposition. In this context, a name that will always shine as a beacon is K Raghuramaiah, the legendary parliamentary affairs minister in Indira Gandhi's Cabinet. It was deeply felt by all that a certain level of mutual trust between the government and the opposition was essential for running an institution like Parliament.
This is the most important lesson we can learn from our past. The survival of Parliament as a vibrant democratic institution depends on how fast the present-day parliamentarians can internalise the power of mutual trust.
P D T ACHARY
Former Secretary General Lok Sabha