No other country in the world values an apex civil service as India does: the Indian Administrative Service (IAS) are modern India’s ‘dwija’ or twice-born. Clearing the all-India examination is the contemporary equivalent of the age-old initiation ceremonies once conducted by the upper castes, sealing their exalted position since ancient times. The compulsion to qualify for one of the coveted all-India services is so high that aspirants resort to any means to achieve it.
If what is being alleged about how IAS trainee Pooja Khedkar made it to that hallowed service turns out to be true, a thorough forensic audit of all government recruitments of at least the past 10 years is imperative. If she gamed the system by taking advantage of the affirmative action provisions in government service recruitment, her case may not be unique. The way she went about getting certificates to do so certainly points to a tried and tested method.
The action of the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) to issue a show cause notice and move to cancel Khedkar’s appointment on evidence that she manipulated the system to get an unfair advantage is very welcome. That she obtained fake certificates to get more chances to clear the exam using provisions for certain disadvantaged segments is a travesty of affirmative action. Misuse of provisos by “creamy layers” of weaker sections is particularly heinous.
The tremendous pressure to get into any government job, especially the IAS, is evident from the number of coaching institutes offering better chances of making it to the list. But everyone looks for ways to get further advantage when so many are vying for every single job. Caste and disability certificates offer that extra edge, which Khedkar allegedly used repeatedly, first to obtain her medical seat and help her get into the IAS despite not getting a high rank in the exam.
That small-town hospitals and amenable government departments in her home state—where her father appears to be an influential retired government employee turned politician—were used to procure the disability and caste certificates points to the likelihood of a well-established scam. It also calls into question the veracity of even government-issued certificates, which is a very depressing prospect indeed. If the malaise is indeed widespread, how can it be stamped out?
As more and more evidence surfaces about the extent of her family’s wealth—her father’s assets are reportedly around Rs 40 crore and her own around Rs 17 crore—why she chose to enter government service also needs to be examined. Public service is unlikely to have been a motivating factor given her display of attitude and demands for trappings of office including a sarkari blue beacon light for her private vehicle, which happened to be a luxury Audi sedan, no less!
Khedkar’s father Dilip followed up a career in the state bureaucracy with a foray into politics in this year’s general elections, albeit unsuccessful. The arrest of Khedkar’s mother Manorama this week after videos emerged now of her intimidating a local farmer with a pistol (a licensed weapon, though) over a land acquisition deal a year ago points to a family propensity to use the sarkari system and their bureaucratic and political connections to gain undue benefits.
Instances of IAS officers misusing their positions for personal aggrandizement are commonplace now. Thanks to characterisations in popular cinema, it has become almost de rigueur for IAS officers to be shown as mini-emperors in their districts, with white car cavalcades, grand residences and obsequious attendants. Is this artistic licence, wishful thinking or an accurate portrayal of how many—if not most—IAS officers behave, especially while posted in remote districts?
Khedkar allegedly demanding a certain kind of office, residential accommodation and placards for her vehicle even before taking charge of a post as a mere trainee officer, bespeaks an arrogance that is surely not borne out of isolation. Her father was a bureaucrat once, so she clearly had an idea of what could be demanded, and probably even achieved if articulated with enough confidence and authority. The power of certificates, when used adroitly, is obviously considerable.
But the ramifications are grim. Are the Constitutional provisions adopted to ensure the inclusion of traditionally backward and underprivileged sections in all levels of government service being misused more than used? Those already in the system are better placed to use the provisions than those who are genuinely in disadvantaged situations, as can be gauged from Khedkar’s alleged actions. Should this not be reason enough for the authorities to review this provision?
Continuous blurring of the line between the bureaucracy and the political class is also partly responsible for this situation. As more and more civil servants launch into successful second careers as politicians, the checks and balances of power also tend to get skewed; each cohort turns a blind eye to possible excesses of the other, for mutual benefit. Even issues like disproportionate assets (of both sides) get swept under the carpet. Khedkar’s case too has come to light by chance.
Had Khedkar not demanded special consideration and not flaunted her Audi, she may never have come onto the radar of the media or government. Had the whole matter not become so high profile, the state police may never have acted to arrest her mother now for an act of intimidation last year. Nor would UPSC have been prompted to examine her certificates and find out she had gamed the system, leading them to start proceedings to cancel her appointment to the IAS.
No doubt there will be intense scrutiny of all documents submitted to avail of special benefits in civil services entrance examinations for the time being. But what about all the previous years? How many IAS and other civil servants used questionable means to clear qualifying examinations? Will a forensic audit be too embarrassing? At a time when public confidence in many institutions is being deliberately shaken, should the civil service cohort also be drawn into this?
Besides finding ways to curb the abuse of provisions meant for the disadvantaged, it is also time for society to introspect why people like the Khedkars behave the way they do. And get away with it—at least for a considerable amount of time. Why is it okay now for ends to justify the means? By misusing provisos meant for the genuinely disadvantaged amongst the backward castes, the Khedkars and others like them are doing their own community an egregious disservice.
The author is a freelance writer. Views expressed in the above piece are personal and solely those of the author. They do not necessarily reflect News18’s views.
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