The bureaucratic flux
April 07, 2001
Given half a chance, every bureaucracy in the world would like to do two things. One, live in an eternal time-freeze to avoid the need for change and, two, multiply its numbers and power. To that extent, Pakistan's bureaucracy has only followed a universal and institutional instinct in resisting change and self-replicating. But what the dinosaur refused to register was that its environment had changed, drastically in 1947 and gradually since then.
It failed to see that the changed environment had changed its role as well. The days of the haughty ruler-bureaucrat, insulated from his "subjects" and served by battalions of minions, had sailed away with the Raj. The bureaucracy needed, therefore, to undergo a social and attitudinal transformation to become relevant to the needs off a free society.
But, as we know too well, the society was not really free. The colonial masters were replaced by their local leftovers who wished to retain similar control over the people and needed bureaucratic help to do that. This dependency and, more importantly, their political and moral inadequacy, created the space for the bureaucracy to expand its power even into the political realm.
The bureaucratic transformation, therefore, was a retrogression--from the institutional discipline and efficiency of the British order into the medieval-feudal ethics of extortion, suppression and sycophancy. This socio-moral and degeneration deprived the bureaucracy of any public empathy.
But even more relevant to the current crisis facing the bureaucracy was its failure to professionalise. While the battle between the generalists and specialists, or the bureaucrat and the technocrat, has been waged since long, it misses a crucial point. Both these genres have roles distinct from each other, yet coalescing across institutions, in catering to the needs of a complex modern society.
If the intricacies of science and technology are beyond the generalist, the imperatives of balance, aesthetics and, sometimes, even plain common sense elude the finely focused specialist mind. The two, thus, have to balance each other out.
What neither side realised in their battle for ascendancy was that, to be able to perform their respective roles, both had to update their skills. They had to imbibe not only the modern managerial and technical skills but also a rigorous work ethic to meet the challenges posed by a world changing at a dizzying pace.
Thus, be it an administrative or police officer, an accountant or an auditor, a tax-collector or railway manager, an engineer or a doctor, the entire range of officialdom was operating in a time-warp. They had neither changed their haughty, sometimes paternalistic but more often extortionist, attitude towards the people they were supposed to be serving nor acquired the latest skills of their professions.
Inevitably, not changed on their own terms, change had to come on terms dictated by others. This is precisely what is happening now in the form of the twin axes of downsizing and devolution which are poised to fall on an apprehensive officialdom.
If the slash proposed by the "Right-sizing and Restructuring Committee" is adopted, within the overall cut of 12% in the 3.52 lac strong federal bureaucracy, the bloated lower tiers--peons, chowkidars, chauffeurs, clerks--could be gone by one third. These semi-skilled hordes have no place in a modern, efficient management system. This should, ultimately, bring the officer to staff ratio down from the currently skewed 1:4 to around 1:2.
But if downsizing stops at money-saving, the gains would be limited. The money saved (plus more, if needed) has to be invested in retraining the officers to usher them into the world of electronic governance--a computer-networked and performance-based information and management system in which they must deliver or die. Thus retrained and re-tooled, a smaller officer cadre, backed by a skeletal support-staff, can deliver greater efficiency.
However, for a modern management system to take hold, a change of attitude is more crucial than the techniques and technology. The feudal culture that the civil-military bureaucracy has soaked up from its environment has to go. We are long overdue in burying the bell-pushing, pot-bellied 'Sahibs.' The officers must drive their own cars, carry their brief-cases, punch their computers, attend their phones and make their own coffee. Without this culture change past reform-efforts stand witness that efficiency will remain elusive.
While considerable dead-wood at the top has to be jettisoned, those measuring up to the new and rigorous standards will expect market-based financial incentives to stay on and work hard. If the current uncertainty continues, many of the best and the brightest, particularly the young, will opt out.
This would be a bad omen as there is no known substitute either for the bureaucracy or merit and competence within it -- not even the supposed regimental discipline. The accelerated decay over the last two decades and massive induction for the military into the civil and police services during this period are evidence of that.
The non-participatory manner in which the devolution plan is being imposed is the main cause of provincial apathy and bureaucratic despondency and disinterest. Both are bad signs for its longer-term success.
Whether the new district governments -- potentially a double-edged sword -- deliver all or any of the pristine objectives will now be determined by time. What stands determined is that the old order has all but crumbled. If it is easy to criticise the proposed system, it is more difficult to defend the old. The focus, therefore, should now be on giving the new system the best chance to take root, grow and fructify.
While the elected Nazims and assemblies will perform a high profile public function, equally important for the success of the new system will be its nuts and bolts -- the bureaucrats and technocrats. They have resisted the change, as was their instinctive and institutional wont, and lost. Rather than berating and sidelining them, or inducting them into the new system in an adversarial mood, a wiser course seems to be to take them abroad by giving them a stake in its success.
A sizeable chunk of the bureaucracy, if not the majority, comprises honest hard-working, competent and experienced people. While many charges placed at the doorstep of the officialdom are well founded, what is overlooked is the input-output ratio of its performance. Whether it is the administration, police, postmen, doctors or railwaymen, what they are delivering, if quantified, would be far in excess of the pitiful resources placed at their command.
And, they have done so in an environment so hostile that merit, efficiency and performance had been crushed by the relentless juggernaut of nepotism, indiscipline and political interference. That the old system, such as it is, still stands is indeed a tribute to their dedication and ingenuity.
That is why the main counter-argument to the devolution plan (as also to privatisation of utilities and services) is to reform the existing system, remove the extra-systemic distortions and provide adequate incentives and logistics. This argument, however, fails to fully explain the failure of the bureaucracy and the technocracy to embrace the needed attitudinal and professional change.
More importantly, this argument is flawed also for pitting the elected representatives and the officials in an either/or and adversarial relationship. This misconceived politico-bureaucratic rivalry and struggle for supremacy has, indeed, been an important cause of the rapid administrative decay under elected governments.
In democracies worldwide, elected representative and the officials have their distinct roles and well defined spheres of operation. While the elected representatives have political and policy-making pre-eminence, the official managers have complete operational autonomy. This dichotomy applies to democratic politics and management at all levels.
How this crucial relationship is defined (as also the new district-province equation) could spell the difference between the success and failure of new district governments. In the short-term, this balance alone can guarantee against the new found political power becoming a tool of oppression -- the most potent charge against the proposed system.
If the politico-bureaucratic equation tilts too much to either side, the system will mal-function. We could then either see mini Nawaz Sharifs running amok in every district, or president Tarrars going through the motions of appearing atop the political pyramid. The times ahead promise to be interesting, if also somewhat chaotic.
The author is a freelance columnist
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