How wily babus outwitted Nehru

He wanted the institution of chaprasis abolished, but the Sixth Pay Commission is still talking of eliminating them

NEW DELHI: If the 1962 war with China gave Jawaharlal Nehru a bloody nose, of larger relevance to the country was the bigger defeat he was repeatedly handed out by his own bureaucracy. Nehru’s war on wasteful government spending, pomp, ostentation and feudal labour practices failed to produce the desired results.

Not for want of trying, though, as the recently declassified documents of the Nehru era show. These documents, numbering around 50, were moved to the National Archives in Delhi over the past two years. DNA was the first to gain access to them, and the research has yielded gems of information and insight into Nehru’s broad vision and how it floundered on the rocks of babudom.

Nehru believed that Delhi’s palatial bhavans should be put to public use, and not used by public servants. In a communication on July 19, 1947, to Lord Mountbatten, the last viceroy and first governor general of independent India, Nehru said: “I have no doubt that in future we should have to use these enormous houses for some other purpose.” He was referring to Rashtrapati Bhavan, then called Viceroy’s House, and the Viceregal Lodge in Shimla, summer residence of the viceroy. In another file, Nehru remarks that he was himself living in a huge mansion (Teen Murti Bhavan) which wasn’t necessary.

While the viceregal lodge was converted into the Indian Institute of Advanced Studies in the 1960s, Rashtrapati Bhavan, atop Raisina Hill, continues to be occupied by the president of India and his/her family. Today, it is the biggest residence used by any democratically elected leader on the face of the earth.

But the most telling example is his failed battle to end the colonial practice of having chaprasis (peons) hanging around government offices. Nehru wanted peons to be phased out and replaced with a messenger service to carry communications between ministries.

The story begins soon after independence. In a missive to the home ministry dated April 11, 1949, Nehru writes: “I have frequently drawn attention to the general appearance of disorder and uncleanliness in the secretariat corridors.

There has been no improvement at all. A part of this lack of tidiness and decorum is due to the hordes of chaprasis who lounge about these corridors. It seems to me clear that the present system is a wrong one, apart from being inefficient.”

His controversial secretary MO Mathai added weight to his master’s voice on the matter of peons. He wrote: “I cannot understand why I have been inflicted with two chaprasis.” But Mathai was clear that doing away with his own chaprasis wasn’t the answer: “It serves no useful purpose in dispensing with my poor chaprasis alone. The whole flat should be cleared and the arrangements suggested by Mr Zachariah might be given a trial.” K Zachariah, head of the historical intelligence section of the external affairs ministry, had apparently studied the messenger system in the US and UK and made recommendations in this regard.

But babus know how to talk a subject to death. Detailed notes and memos were exchanged between the PMO and various ministries, and the proposal generated more paperwork rather that results. Committees and sub-committees were set up, and reports went back and forth for months.

But when Nehru reviewed the situation two years later, he found that the number of peons – far from going down – had actually multiplied.

In a note to the cabinet secretary dated June 24, 1952, Nehru noted with consternation that the number of peons in service had increased from “3,200 before the war to over 19,000”. This was a prodigious number and Nehru again emphasised: “No one should have a personal peon.” But, “in spite of my repeated attempts, nothing appears to have been done in this matter.”

Realising that he may be losing the battle in committee, Nehru reiterated that he wanted greater efficiency and “this process of engaging additional peons to stop.” He wrote to the cabinet secretary seeking information on “what the present number of peons is and how does it compare with the number three years ago. Have any new peons been engaged during this period in spite of our decision some time ago?”

In a telling sign of the nepotism that began to strangle Indian politics, Nehru says: “It is absurd to attach a crowd of peons to a minister or a senior official. Every new appointment means a crowd of hangers-on. It is likely that in the course of a week or two we may have additional ministers. I do not want new peons to be engaged. If necessary, some of my peons should be transferred to them.”

However, the babus had other ideas. They were planning the opposite – add more peons to the PM’s secretariat, the boss’s own den. In 1954, officials were proposing an increase in staff strength, including 10 new peons. In this file, one of the bizarre arguments given by BN Kaul, official in the PMO, was that peons were overworked and some were even falling victim to TB due to this. “I am also told that the strain is so heavy on the peons that there have been four cases of TB among them since the reduction of staff started in 1950, and one of these has unfortunately died. We, therefore, propose that we should have 10 more cycle peons.”

Nehru was apoplectic when he returned from a high-profile visit to China. On November 11, 1954, he wrote a stinker to Mathai: “Ten peons produce a sense of shock in me. I want to abolish the whole institution of peons, and I hope I shall succeed.” He dismissed the TB argument. “I am really surprised to learn that peons have got TB because of excess of work. I do not think anyone gets TB because of excess of work. There must be other reasons.”

Somewhere along the way, Nehru must have given up trying. Today, the Sixth Pay Commission has gone on record to say that class IV employees need to be phased out. But can a coalition government without spine succeed where Nehru didn’t?