The debate on the next round of economic reform is in full cry, with political parties locking horns at every step, but who will reform the reformers?
Like a sub-plot out of Shakespeare that mocks the main action of the play, that's the question that perpetually hangs in the air, arousing public suspicion and bursting into nasty allegations now and again.
Thanks to Somnath Chatterjee, an excellent suggestion should soon materialise into action: it is on how to regulate salaries for MPs. The Lok Sabha Speaker, himself one of the longest-standing MPs, has proposed that there should an independent commission to look into the matter of MPs' pay and perks.
At least, he said, it would save legislators the embarrassment of being seen to be giving themselves periodic raises. Unlike the tortuous squabbles over privatising PSUs and implementing the Employment Guarantee Bill, it's an idea unanimously embraced by MPs across the board.
A three-member committee, made up of the central vigilance commissioner, the RBI governor, and the deputy chairman of the Planning Commission, can decide on what MPs should be paid, what privileges they are entitled to, and, hopefully, also establish norms for misuse of perks and facilities.
The last time MPs got a pay raise was in 2001 and their monthly salary was fixed at Rs 12,000 with an allowance of Rs 500 for each day they attended Parliament.
By current standards, that's not too large a pay package for the sort of work they are meant to put in. "Senior civil servants, officers of the defence establishment or university lecturers take home more," says a newly-elected member of the Lok Sabha.
And each time MPs agitate for a raise, the procedure is complicated by amending an Act that dates from 1954. So the idea of scrapping the Act and replacing it with an independent commission to loosen the purse strings, a sort of wage board for MPs, is good.
The problem will arise, as with many other regulators, of the precise powers such a commission will have. If the MPs' wage board is to regularly assess salaries, allowances, and other benefits, should these not be linked to performance?
That leads us back to square one: who will enforce norms of attendance or of reasonable quantity and quality of parliamentary work by the lawmakers? Quorum in both Houses has not substantially risen over the years; nor has the number of bills passed or the range or quality of debate.
An equally contentious issue that raises its ugly head is abuse of facilities by parliamentarians.
Elected representatives are entitled to a host of privileges in addition to their basic pay and attendance fee: virtually free housing in the capital; a large number of free telephone calls; a certain number of airfares and train tickets to their constituencies; and pensions and laptops; in the old days of a shortage economy they could even distribute or acquire everything from telephone and LPG gas connections to petrol pumps and plots of land.
Ministers and MPs of virtually every political persuasion have been tainted with such scandals; on occasion ministers have had to resign. MPs, it is true, don't end up losing their jobs but shouldn't they be penalised?
A persistent scandal in New Delhi has been unlawful occupation or sub-letting of government accommodation and mountains of unpaid electricity and telephone bills left behind by former ministers and erstwhile MPs. Despite heroic and widely publicised efforts by government departments, the bad behaviour continues.
Independent commissions are set up to ensure fair practice commensurate with performance and transparent rules. But what would be the use of Somnath Chatterjee's commendable scheme if it exists only to dole out rewards without being able enforce punishment?
