Supreme Court’s salwa judum order is encroachment of executive’s turf

The occasional blurring of distinctions between the executive, judiciary and legislature is unavoidable given the human propensity to test the limits of any barrier.

The tendency to do so is stronger when one of the three “estates” is perceived to have become weak. This is what has happened in recent months as the Supreme Court’s encroachments on what is supposed to be the executive’s turf show.

In the process, the judiciary can be accused of transgressing certain unspecified boundaries. Its latest diktat on the salwa judum or the anti-Maoist vigilante groups is one such instance.

Had it confined itself to criticising the human rights problems created by such ill-paid and ill-trained groups, the court would have been within its rights. But when it blames the policy of privatisation in this context, it trespasses into forbidden territory.

A seemingly casual observation of this nature may please the ‘jholawalas’ as well as the Maoists, but it is not a subject on which such an easy dissemination of opinion is either possible or advisable.

Not only does it relate to a centuries-old socialism-versus-capitalism ideological duel, it can even be said to have been settled in the latter’s favour as the collapse of the socialistic paradises of the Soviet Union and Eastern Europe and the embracement of capitalism by China testify.

The encouragement of the private sector in India in the last two decades is linked to these seismic economic changes elsewhere. Although the debate has by no means ended, it is not a matter of arbitrary judicial pronouncements if only because they carry greater weight than the comments of lesser mortals.

It will not be out of place to point out that a major reason why privatisation is now the preferred mode of economic development is the public sector’s failure to achieve this objective despite the prolonged 1947-91 trial period. Indeed, it was the threatened bankruptcy in 1991 because of the balance of payments crisis that made India turn its back on the autarkic model, which was associated with the snail-paced Hindu rate of growth. None of this is startling news, but to hark back approvingly to a time of failure is odd, to say the least.

Similarly, on the question of vigilante groups, it is easy to berate them as civil rights activists have done. But the answer is not to throw the baby out with the bathwater, but to call for greater training and supervision. After all, a state by itself does not have the resources either in terms of manpower or arms and ammunition to combat an ideologically driven band of outlaws.

It needs the Centre’s help for the deployment of paramilitary forces and, since the latter are not conversant with the local terrain, language and customs, they need the assistance of both the police and local groups who are willing to fight the Maoists.
What will be the reaction of the opponents of ‘salwa judum’ if there is an upsurge of Maoist violence after its disbandment?

Is it not better to prevent such an escalation — necessitating the use of drones — by continuing with the third tier of anti-Maoist forces in addition to the police and the paramilitary? During all such discussions, there is a routine condemnation of Maoist violence as by the apex court although it is no secret that the Maoists care two hoots for such criticism, while the government has to be careful that its own forces do not cross the limit.

Like privatisation, the case of Maoists, too, has to be considered seriously if such pronouncements are to be made. They are not Robin Hoods robbing the rich to help the poor. They are armed desperadoes bent on overthrowing the government and initiating one-party rule. It is another matter that they will not succeed. But they hardly deserve being treated indulgently.

If the judiciary is now trespassing into the executive’s domain because of the latter’s debilitating condition, the opposite happened during the Emergency when the government was seen as “strong”, not because of its popularity, but because India was then being run by a “gang of one and a half”, as Jagjivan Ram said in a reference to the Indira-Sanjay duo.

The Supreme Court has since apologised for upholding the suspension of fundamental rights during the period, thereby allowing the executive to enter its territory. The two opposing examples underline the necessity of the three “estates” to remain within their own boundaries.