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Journalism of Courage
Once upon a time, only sub-editors sat up into the wee hours for a report, cursing the butter-fingered cubs on the job. Today, it is the Union Cabinet that does so, led by a Prime Minister who cheerfully postpones a trip abroad.
But only for the right kind of report, pearls of wisdom penned by the likes of Romesh Bhandari. The septuagenarian eyes of our masters can8217;t, apparently, see what the nation saw on TV on 21 October, 1997 8212; Congress MLAs beginning a disgusting disruption of the UP Assembly8217;s proceedings.The sanctity attached to a Governor8217;s report is somewhat surprising. The Gujral regime hasn8217;t exactly honoured certain other reports, by gentlemen better qualified to pass judgment than a dilettante Foreign Secretary turned activist politician 8212; Justice Milap Chand Jain and Justice Chinappa Reddy.
But enough about the Jain Commission. Let us turn to the forgotten report. Justice Reddy8217;s task was to probe the untimely demise of a sitting Chief Justice of India during a stopover on an official tour. On 25 September, 1990, Chief Justice Sabyasachi Mukharji died in a London hospital. On 28 September, a newspaper quoted his wife Ratna Mukharji as stating that he died because of neglect. She then added 8212; and this is where the controversy began 8212; that the Indian High Commission in London didn8217;t even attempt to help.
K. K. Venugopal, then president of the Supreme Court Bar Association, spoke to her. She confirmed that the Indian High Commission seemed bent on treating the stop-over as a private visit. On October 1, 1990, the Bar Association passed a resolution demanding an inquiry. In Parliament, Indrajit Gupta endorsed a suggestion made by Chandrashekhar that the High Commissioner, Kuldip Nayar, be asked to go on leave. On October 5, 1990, the government agreed to appoint a commission of inquiry headed by a distinguished member of the Bench. This was announced in Parliament by the External Affairs Minister, I.K. Gujral. He didn8217;t, however, respond to Parliament8217;s call for the High Commissioner8217;s head. This led to an uproar. I quote from the records of the Lok Sabha: Shri P. Chidambaram: 8220;Sir, he has no respect for Parliament. We cannot allow this. What about Kuldip Nayar8217;s recall? What about Parliament8217;s demand?8221;
But in October 1990 as in October 1997 the life of the government could be measured in weeks. As minority regimes fell in quick succession, the controversy was buried. It was four years before the issue suddenly returned to public attention. A newspaper report of October 23, 1994 noted that Justice Chinappa Reddy had already submitted his report.
An annoyed K.K. Venugopal wrote to the then External Affairs Minister, Dinesh Singh, for a copy of the report. He pointed out that the inquiry began following the Bar Association8217;s resolution a fact admitted by Gujral in the Lok Sabha. Neither this nor a second letter received a response.On December 30, 1994, Vivek Katju, the Joint Secretary Administration, External Affairs Ministry, informed Venugopal that the report was confidential. He didn8217;t bother to give any credible reasons.
The Bar Association then responded with a writ petition seeking to make the report public. The government filed a counter-affidavit. And what Ishrat Aziz, Additional Secretary, says in this is so interesting that I must quote him: 8220;I state that Justice O. Chinappa Reddy submitted the inquiry report on 24.8.19928230; There has been no attempt at concealment.8221;
Why, then, wasn8217;t the report immediately tabled in Parliament? Why did everyone have to wait for two years before a newspaper broke the story? Ishrat Aziz has an answer. 8220;I state that as the inquiry was instituted under the executive powers of the Government of India, it was treated as an internal document.8221;
The Bar Association remained undaunted by haughty claims of executive privilege. 8220;It is only under the severest of compulsions of the requirement of public interest that a report relating to the functioning of the Government should be withheld. The respondents have not in any way satisfied the test of public interest as laid down by this Hon8217;ble Court, nor have they stated what the compulsions were for stifling the report.8221;
Now we have the meat of the matter. What were the 8220;compulsions8221; for keeping the report under wraps, to the extent of claiming 8220;privilege8221;?Gujral, then merely V.P. Singh8217;s External Affairs Minister, is now the Prime Minister. Kuldip Nayar, the then High Commissioner, is now a Rajya Sabha MP. Finally, the Deputy High Commissioner, Salman Haider, rose to the exalted height of Foreign Secretary.
Kuldip Nayar is a friend, and I honestly don8217;t believe that Justice Chinappa Reddy could have been too hard on a gentleman like him. But someone definitely goofed. And there is a hint in a circular from the then Foreign Secretary, J.N. Dixit, in 1993. Specifically referring to the Chinappa Reddy inquiry, he says that 8220;there is no substitute for a sympathetic and common-sense handling, with officers showing due courtesy and flexibility8221;.
Which of the actors in Delhi and London did not display those virtues as Chief Justice Mukharji was dying? The External Affairs Ministry is silent. All we get of the Chinappa Reddy Report is a self-serving 8220;operative part8221;, which says the late Chief Justice got 8220;all possible medical assistance8221;. That says nothing of the help given by the High Commission.Many will wonder why this column is devoted to this issue when Gujarat and UP occupy the headlines. Simple, in both cases the man calling the shots is Sitaram Kesri. But tabling the Chinappa Reddy Report and the Jain Commission Interim Report are issues where Gujral alone can take a stand.
This Prime Minister began his reign by promising transparency. Will he, even at this late hour, keep his word? Or does he prefer the safety of executive privilege? Can8217;t he do the honourable thing before the Supreme Court acts?
