Guaranteeing action for employment

Guaranteeing action for employment
Aruna Roy & Nikhil Dey
The Employment Guarantee Act can provide the basis of a permanent social security system, and even act as an instrument for planned and equitable rural development.
IN RAJASTHAN, where years of drought outnumber those of good rainfall and people's age is often remembered by the proximity of their birth to legendary droughts, there is a folk tale that has become legend. The tale goes that traditionally there are three categories of life that thrive in a drought — the camel, the goat, and the sahukar (moneylender). But in modern times two more have to be added to the list — the mate and the sarkar. The mate is the custodian of the `muster roll' (the official attendance register of the workers employed on relief works), and the sarkar is of course the government that issues these sanctions for work.
As the Indian parliament is about to enact an Employment Guarantee Act (EGA), similar tales of corruption cast a long shadow on this historic legislation. The sceptics claim that even if the EGA is an unprecedented opportunity to fight deprivation, corruption will turn this opportunity into a historic blunder.
However, the situation in Rajasthan has changed substantially in recent times. Social activists who have fought for the right to information and have consistently been at the forefront of exposing corruption in rural works have witnessed some extraordinary developments. In 1998 for instance, the Sarpanches of Kukarkheda (Rajsamand district), Rawatmal and Surajpura (Ajmer district) apologised for committing fraud and publicly returned money after being confronted with incontrovertible documentary evidence at a public hearing. In 2001, in Janawad panchayat (Rajsamand district) the information of public works expenditure painted on a panchayat wall led the people to mobilise and protest, exposing fraud and ghost works amounting to Rs.70 lakh, at a public hearing. This was later substantiated by a special government investigation leading to a number of institutionalised measures for transparency and accountability. Landmark events like these, facilitated by people's use of the right to information, have had a profound impact in the whole State. Slowly but surely, corruption in public works has been curtailed.
Despite having seen and exposed the worst side of public works programmes, we remain strong advocates of such programmes, for the simple reason that they provide an indispensable lifeline to the rural poor. For instance, exposing the cause for starvation deaths in Baran district, has substantially improved food-for-work and drought relief programmes, saving people's lives not just in Baran but in many parts of Rajasthan. The grain could not have been put to better use. Without relief works, famines would have occurred year after year in some part of Rajasthan or another, with human costs that cannot be measured. As Ashok Gehlot, former Chief Minister of Rajasthan, said: "until we have an EGA, we will continue to get news about starvation deaths."
The Rajasthan experience can help us examine the question of corruption based on the strength of factual experience rather than conjecture or conviction. This is not to say that corruption has been eliminated from public works programmes. However, the effectiveness of these programmes has improved radically during the last ten years or so, and there is much to learn from this experience. It can help identify and consolidate some of the factors that made the struggle against corruption, and the wider campaign for transparency and accountability, possible.
The most important factor has been a heightened sense of public vigilance, born out of the basic needs of people during repeated droughts, and their creative struggles for democratic accountability. People have fought for, and made use of, their entitlements. For the period of the drought, they are entitled to get work. They are entitled to a minimum wage. And they have struggled for the State Right to Information Act, which today helps them monitor the money and foodgrain meant for them. In fact, the right to information campaign in India was brought to life by the struggles of wage workers on employment programmes in Rajasthan, demanding answers to the unjustified loot and exploitation being perpetuated against them. It has encouraged a culture of questioning which is the best antidote to corruption, extending its sanitising effects far beyond the limited confines of drought relief programmes.
Over time, this trend of greater public awareness has encompassed a wider circle of people committed to social justice and democratic accountability. The vigilance has been strengthened by adversarial politics, the reporting and participation of newspapers and media activists, and concerned citizens.
The political establishment and the administration have also played a significant role. Politicians are beginning to respond to people's needs, at least in times of distress, and to realise that they are being monitored. An administration under relentless public pressure has responded by laying down a number of non-negotiable norms and issuing innovative instructions. Muster rolls have emerged from behind the iron curtain to become public documents that can be inspected not just by supervisors and inspectors but by any citizen. Work is implemented by one agency while payments are made by another to prevent collusion. Photographs are to be taken and filed before, during, and after the works. Details of sanctions and expenditures of all works are to be painted on the walls of the panchayat as well as on boards at the worksite. Workers are to be provided with a `job card,' which is an official record of days of employment, work done, and wages paid. All records are to be subject to social audit in ward sabhas where utilisation certificates are to be issued after the works are complete.
Many of these instructions may not be carried out well enough, and in certain cases not at all. Nevertheless, persistent pressure has changed the culture of governance, especially during periods of drought and hardship. People and governments have recognised that transparency and accountability can be much more than just empty slogans.
As the system begins to respond to people's demands, there has been concrete change on the ground. For instance, wages that used to be paid after months of delay are now generally paid within a fortnight. Foodgrain is paid against coupons in a fairly efficient manner. And with every citizen turning into a potential, self-appointed inspector, there has been a dramatic reduction in the quantum and forms of leakage.
Experience in Rajasthan shows that the national Right to Information Act (which is about to come into force) can be used for transparent and effective implementation of the EGA. The implications are potentially far-reaching. Drought expenditure is ad hoc and unplanned. In contrast, the EGA can provide the basis of a permanent social security system, and even act as an instrument for planned and equitable rural development.
Opportunity for mobilisation
The EGA also provides a unique opportunity for mobilisation of vast numbers of the rural poor. It is an opportunity for political parties and social movements to build campaigns for people's empowerment and rural reconstruction based on a positive agenda. It will give the rural poor a chance to bring into play some of their creative energies. The adversaries who want to indulge in corrupt practices can be isolated. The recently enacted right to information law can be used to identify, expose, and effectively oppose these forces.
The EGA is one of the most daring and important initiatives of collective responsibility in the world today. If the argument against it is that India cannot afford this kind of expenditure, the argument must be fought politically. By giving the poor a small measure of dignity and the opportunity to contribute their labour, we only offer a fraction of the entitlements the privileged enjoy. When a small proportion of these privileges are made available, just to enable poor people to survive, and live with dignity, there is an uproar. The class that has laid down a role model for corruption suddenly invokes every possible argument to prevent the needy from getting a chance to earn their subsistence from casual labour, and that too for only 100 days in the year.
It is important to expose the double standards involved in using corruption as an argument against the EGA. Potential corruption in the EGA must be fought and controlled, and recent experience has demonstrated that this can be done. However, just as defence and oil deals will never be completely free of corruption, the EGA will have to continuously face the challenge posed by corruption. And just as in every essential sphere of governance we do not abdicate responsibility because of potential corruption, our resolve to implement the EGA should not be shaken by this challenge.
In fact, as we have argued, this challenge can be turned into an opportunity. In an inclusive programme like employment guarantee every expose will become a means of challenging the culture of secrecy, subterfuge, and corruption that plagues our system of governance. Effective entitlements will eventually help build a culture of transparency and public vigilance that will benefit the whole system. This will give birth to strong and effective citizens' movements to fight corruption. The campaign for a full-fledged employment guarantee has already begun to do so.
(The writers are Rajasthan-based activists with the Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS), the National Campaign for the People's Right to Information (NCPRI), and People's Action for Employment Guarantee.)

Malls of the few chawl of the many

Malls of the few, chawls of the many
P. Sainath
The scenes from Gurgaon gave us more than just a picture of one labour protest, police brutality or corporate tyranny. It presented us a microcosm of the new and old Indias. Different rules and realities for different classes of society.
A HORRIBLY oppressed wife, so runs the old American joke, slapped her husband in despair. The man punched her over 30 times, till she lay battered and he was exhausted by the effort. Then, panting, he told her: "Now we're even." That's right. Both sides were violent, weren't they?
That's pretty much the both-sides-did-it line, now in vogue to describe the brutality in Haryana. Months of being denied their rights, the ruthless cutting of their jobs, the despair of the workers, count for little. The breaking of the nation's laws, the torment of the sacked workers, their wives and children count for less. Context counts for nothing at all. History begins with the televised violence of two days. Not with the hidden violence of years.
Even those 48 hours are instructive. On the one hand, hundreds thrashed mercilessly by the police. Some still being clubbed as they lay bleeding on the ground. Hundreds missing. Lathis, teargas, water canons and other action from the police. One woman sick with anxiety, swinging a stick at them — shown ad nauseum on every channel. That, and some stone-throwers targeting cops in bullet-proof vests, neatly symbolised the match-up. Yup, both sides were violent.
The Haryana police lived up to their history. At the best of times, this force would not win a prize in any human rights competition. (Unless the only other contestants were Abu Ghraib, Guantanamo and the Punjab police. The race might then be close.) This is the state of Jhajar, where five Dalits were lynched by a mob. Their crime: they were suspected of killing a cow. The Haryana police swung into action as only they could, filing cases against those they suspected of cow slaughter. Then too, only nationwide outrage saw matters go further. Then too, the site was close enough to the capital city for the media to take notice.
Yet the present violence in Haryana speaks of newer things as well. There was something quite symbolic about Gurgaon being the venue of the protests. About "old" Gurgaon being the scene of bloodshed and mayhem. While "new" Gurgaon with its bustling, happy, mall culture, saw business as usual. Gurgaon's mall has won the attention of media the world over. Many well-known papers, notably, the New York Times, have added lustre to its legend.
On Tuesday, one television channel was smart enough to see the contrast. The clearly better-off (and for now unaffected) having their hot dogs and coleslaw in the Mall. While the plebs battled the cops at the barricades in "old" Gurgaon. In that is a parable of an old and new India as well.
This time, much of the media got the picture, but many of them missed the point. Two channels at least, told us the police were showing "maximum" and "extreme" restraint. This against a background (reported by the same channels) of hundreds missing. Of injured persons being frogmarched from hospital to lock-ups. And of frightened people searching for their relatives. This, too, alongside visuals of police battering unarmed people lying helpless on the ground. I guess that's the maximum restraint the Haryana police are capable of, anyway.
The second day's violence was reportedly sparked off when frantic members of the public who turned up at the civil hospital could not find their relatives. Some of these seem to have been whisked away by police to be charged with the previous day's violence. That inflamed matters. Note that some non-involved citizens of "old" Gurgaon got quickly involved. What they had seen angered them. And anyway, their anger had other causes, too. Oddly, those pushing the "both-sides-were-violent" line seek no action against the police. Both sides were violent, right? How come one side faces no punishment?
Gurgaon was about the police and administration increasingly acting as enforcement agents of big corporations. Not without precedent in the past. But more and more a symbol of the new India. It has been happening for some years in Kashipur and other parts of Orissa. There, police and local officials have functioned almost as a private army of the mining companies. Opposition leaders, even elected representatives, have been attacked when reaching there to inquire into the violence.
In Haryana, Honda did not even have to come into the picture till things went awfully wrong. The police and administration were there to act on its behalf. Had this incident occurred in Japan, where Honda has large unions to deal with, some of its top brass would have been seeking new employment. Here, they've just begun to talk about giving back some of the workers their jobs.
Japan's Ambassador to India says this episode might prove bad for our image as an investment destination. Gee! I'm sure that warning will send all those terrified women searching for their relatives scurrying back to their homes in shame. What's a few breadwinners when the image of India as an investment destination is at stake? That mindset too, is symbolic of the new India. Remember those editorial writers whose horror over the pogroms in Gujarat was roused not so much by the misery of the victims as by the damage to India's image as an investment destination? They're back.
It's not all about Honda, either. Haryana has seen many brutal actions against workers in the past decade. In 1996, over 18,000 safai karamcharis struck work across that State for 80 days. They were not seeking a paisa extra in wages or benefits. They had a single demand. They wanted their wages paid on time. They sometimes went months without getting paid.
In response, the then Bansi Lal Government sacked 6,000 of them. Close to 700 women found themselves jailed for up to 70 days under the Essential Services Maintenance Act (ESMA). This had not happened even during the Emergency. This is the State of which an editorial says approvingly: "Historically, Haryana has been a State without labour unrest. This has made it a sought after destination for investment... " It has in fact been a region of severe labour suppression. The editorial worries about finding "a more enlightened and less brutal way" of "dispersing a crowd." Such kindness. It might also be enlightened to respect the basic rights of people. Haryana is notorious for a labour department that will not register trade unions formed by workers.
All such government actions were, of course, aimed at privatising services like sanitation. In 2001, the Punjab & Haryana High Court ordered the reinstatement of over 1,000 workers of the Faridabad municipal corporation. The corporation had privatised sanitation work — to an "NGO" — for "a monthly fee." The then Mayor admitted the "experiment" had failed. The fate of the Rs.2.5 million monthly fee is best guessed at. The court held the retrenchment to be wrong. Some courts still do such things. That's why governments are so keen to change labour laws. That too, reflects the new India.
Successive governments in Haryana have allowed companies to ride roughshod over workers' rights. And though quite a few of new India's elite may not know it, trade unions are still legal in the country. For now, anyway. It would be worth looking at how much media coverage there has been of workers' problems here. (Or anywhere else.) In what depth have the often illegal practices of managements been covered? How many working class families have been rendered destitute in the town of the Great Mall?
How many channels or big newspapers even have full-time correspondents on the labour beat? That too in a country where just the job seekers at the employment exchanges almost equal the population of South Africa?
In Mumbai, the Mall itself has been built on the retrenched future of the workers. On mill lands and on work they've been cheated off. And laws have been stretched or changed. You can open a bowling alley and evade the rules by dubbing it "a workers' recreation centre." You can see both new and old India cheek by jowl here.
When entities closely linked to two top Shiv Sena leaders buy former mill lands for Rs. 421 crore, you'd think there would be much curiosity. At least about where the money came from. That too, when one of them happens to be a former Chief Minister and the other a Thackeray. There's far more, though, about the "record" nature of the deal. And excitement over what will come up. A grand mall? Or residential complexes?
The streets of Gurgaon gave us a glimpse of something larger than a single protest. Bigger than a portrait of the Haryana police. Greater than Honda. Far more complex than the "image of India" as an investment destination. It presented us a microcosm of the new and old Indias. Of private cities and gated communities. Of different realities for different classes of society. Of ever-growing inequality. Of the malls of the few and the chawls of the many.