- Where there’s greater awareness, PRIs are working
- In states where they aren’t, the problem is inadequate funds, power, functionaries
- Only seven states—Gujarat, Maharashtra, Rajasthan, Chhattisgarh, Madhya Pradesh, Kerala, Karnataka—have created a window for allocations to panchayats.
- In Karnataka, revenue collection by panchayats has risen from Rs 55 cr toRs 120 cr in 3 yrs. Bellandur used to mop up Rs 2.5 cr.
***
Many believed it was the perfect set-up to shift power to the people, a third tier in the system of governance. The panchayati raj institution (PRI) was believed to be a radical solution to reduce the importance of the political elite at the central and state levels. Fifteen years on, the successful PRIs have emerged as rival power centres to the Centre and states.
"All states have passed strong laws, but people aren’t fully aware of them. Where there is greater awareness, the PRIs are taking over and grabbing administrative powers," says a candid official in Karnataka. Adds Shashanka Bhide of the National Council for Applied Economic Research, which studied the extent of devolution of powers to local self-governments, "We found an uneven outcome of decentralisation across states." Admits Union panchayati raj minister Mani Shankar Aiyar, "The progress is extremely uneven. Where it’s not effective, the PRIs are reduced to being the implementers of one or two rural development ministry programmes." Like the National Rural Employment Guarantee Scheme, which has to be executed through the panchayats.
In states where the system isn’t robust, the three ‘F’s—functions, finances and functionaries—have all fallen short of their ideal. Also, politicians and bureaucrats simply don’t want panchayats to flourish. Not mincing words, a panchayati raj ministry official admits, "Most states are lying to the central ministry about devolution of funds and powers to the panchayats. In most cases, the states don’t walk the talk." Adds P.P. Balan, a former panchayat president and director of the National Institute for Rural and Industrial Management, Chandigarh, "Funds and the freedom (to utilise them) are missing in most states."
So far, only seven states, including Rajasthan, Kerala and Karnataka, have created a window for allocations to the locally elected bodies. Even within these seven states, there’s a huge difference. In Kerala, for instance, 30-40 per cent of the state’s budgetary provision is being routed via the panchayats. But in Rajasthan, PRIs get a "virtually empty vessel".
The Centre and the state governments have given a green signal to at least 33 per cent reservation for women in elected bodies and also representation across various castes. But this has not necessarily translated into women empowerment, or helped the marginalised communities—like the Dalits—to gain equal access to opportunities (see Puppet on a CasteChain). "Women and Dalit sarpanches have to face many difficulties and are used in many cases as a front by the power elite," feels Aruna Roy of Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan. "In many northern states," says Balan, "what one sees is landlordism, not panchayat leadership. Elected women members are dolls behind their husbands or men in the family."
Shyama Tomar, chairperson, Bagli Nagar panchayat in MP’s Dewas district, is facing charges in a dozen criminal cases. The reason: she refused to follow the diktats of the male panchayat members. The panchayat vice-chairman even slapped her in public. Another female sarpanch, Indira Kushwaha from Mahoikala village in the state’s Chhattarpur district, was dragged out of her home and beaten up because she didn’t hand over the development money to a member of an influential upper-caste family.
Against such odds, women sarpanches are making a difference. Says Ratna Bai of Kotli village in Maharashtra’s Jalgaon district, "Being a panchayat member has finally given me an identity and a means to help my people." Others like Indiramma of Ganga Sandra, a village in Karnataka’s Korla district, have been able to overcome initial prejudices, and help local women start self-help groups and small enterprises. A few have even fought against their community—and succeeded (see Scent of aWoman). Thanks to Ahmedabad-based SEWA’s training and public exposure, many women have assumed leadership in their villages.
Wherever local communities stand up for their rights, take charge of their lives and question decisions that impact them, the panchayati raj system works. "Panchayats are a fragile link to democratic participation, and people understand the need for devolution of powers and participation in the decision-making process," says Roy. In some cases, locals have been left with no other recourse but to take matters into their own hands.
To cite an example, of the 29 subjects that are to be under the care of the local bodies, more than half pertain to management of environment resources. But none of the state governments has fully empowered the panchayats to handle them. "Governance is the biggest issue, specially for environment governance and resource management. While issues like climate change cannot be addressed at the local level, one can manage local resources in a more sustainable manner," feels S.K. Joshi, former joint secretary, ministry of environment and forests.
Faced with diminishing resources—water, fodder or fuel wood—the communities have reacted—and acted. Magsaysay award winner Chandi Prasad Bhatt cites the example of how women members in his village Gopeshwar, near Badrinath, have formed a van (forest) panchayat. The aim is to ensure that while the daily needs of the villagers are met, forests too are conserved over the long term. "Wherever the community is aware and involved, the conservation programmes do well," adds Bhatt.
Girija Godbole, a development consultant, cites the example of Mendha Lekha, a tribal village in Maharashtra’s Gadchiroli district. In the late ’70s, the region saw a movement against proposed dams whose slogan was ‘jungle bachao, manav bachao’ (save forests, save humanity). This motivated Mendha Lekha’s inhabitants, mostly Gond tribals, to take charge of the neighbouring forests. They organised themselves into a gram sabha (village assembly), comprising a male and female from each family.
All decisions in the gram sabha are unanimous and implemented through strong social rules. The villagers have set fixed targets for the usage of forest resources, and fixed penalties for offenders. No outsider, government or private, is allowed to carry out any work either in the village or neighbouring forests without the gram sabha’s permission. Mendha Lekha has also formed an abhyaas gat (study circle) to discuss various issues relating to development and wildlife conservation. Godbole says that even government officials respect the rights of Mendha Lekha, which has inspired surrounding villages to emulate its example.
Obviously all gram panchayats aren’t as lucky. While the law states that any industrial activity in a village requires the consent of the gram panchayat, it’s hardly ever the case. Nandigram is only the latest example. In Rajasthan’s Korapur and Kashipur villages, the panchayats’ opposition to mining of minerals has been overturned. The panchayat of Kaladera, another village in the state, has tried to evict Coca-Cola from the area, which is facing an acute water shortage, but to no avail.
Therefore, there’s a need to devolve more powers to the panchayats, so that they can take decisions which serve the village’s interests. Agrees Nitin Desai, an economist and a former United Nations under-secretary general: "Panchayats are better placed to understand local needs and will be more accountable than an outside person/entity. Bringing governance down to the local level would also help in better management of local resources." Adds a senior bureaucrat: "The design of financial transfer has to be in a pro-panchayat manner. Only then will there be a greater and a more meaningful devolution of power and funds to the local bodies."
A few experiences in Kerala and Karnataka prove that a performing panchayat can not only improve the delivery of services to the locals, but also help in improving administration by improving revenue collections. In Karnataka, for example, the revenue collection through panchayats has gone up from Rs 55 crore to Rs 120 crore over the past three years. Until Karnataka’s Bellandur panchayat was merged into the Greater Bangalore City Corporation, it used to mop up revenues of an astonishing Rs 2.5 crore.
There’s also a realisation that PRIs have to get rid of a unique identity crisis, as people are confused about the differences between the post-1993 elected bodies and the earlier caste-based village councils (comprising elders who arbitrated on personal issues like marriages). So, now there’s talk that the PRI concept should be patented to give it a concrete political, economic and social identity. Maybe the policymakers should first discuss how it can be implemented throughout the country!
By Lola Nayar with Madhavi Tata, Chander Suta Dogra, R.K. Mishra, S. Anand and Jaideep Mazumdar
