When Parliament becomes a noisy fish market, and MPs irrelevant

RIGHT & WRONG

When Parliament becomes a noisy fish market, and MPs irrelevant

SWAPAN DASGUPTA

08.08.2021 

Political life can never be separated from its cultural and historical context. In British public life, there is a time that is popularly described as the silly season. In the pre-pandemic age, this time in summer was marked by holidays, lazy afternoons in the sun, endless glasses of Pimms and general merriment all round. But the celebratory mood didn’t make the season silly. It was called the silly season because with Parliament in recess, newspaper editors had a tough time thinking of stories that would fill up the pages.

It is impossible to overstate the importance of Parliament, particularly the House of Commons, in the political life of Westminster. Barring weekends, the customary breaks for Easter and Christmas and, of course, the long, silly season respite, British MPs must literally sing for their supper. On an average, the Commons sit for anything between 150 and 160 days each year, and some of the sittings extend to well beyond midnight. While this may go some way in explaining the plethora of extra-marital affairs among British MPs, it also indicates that parliamentary work can be very demanding. Indeed, political careers are made and unmade by parliamentary performances. Ministers are grilled relentlessly by backbenchers and both the Prime Minister and the Leader of Opposition are under exacting scrutiny during the weekly Prime Minister’s Questions. To be a successful politician in Britain necessarily involves masterly parliamentary performances.

On its part, the media is merciless. The most read section of parliamentary proceedings in the ‘quality’ press isn’t about the reportage of who said what but the parliamentary sketches. Normally the preserve of the most acerbic writers, the sketches contain irreverent accounts of the proceedings, focussing naturally on who got the better of who and which MP made a complete ass of himself.

Public life is naturally bound in a nation’s culture. Despite their innate conservatism, the British are quite naturally irreverent. The reverence attached to political leaders in India has little place in British life. Even at the height of World War II, when he had become a national icon, Winston Churchill was subjected to the most scathing attacks in the Commons, attacks that had made his predecessor Neville Chamberlain wilt and, finally, resign.

Had the Indian media refashioned its non-existent coverage of Parliament, its sketch writers would not have starved for ammunition during the present monsoon session of Parliament. A washout in terms of meaningful debate, the session witnessed the exceptional importance that has been accorded by some parties to unruly hyenas. The Rajya Sabha, where the opposition feels less outnumbered, saw dancing protesters, multilingual slogans and even broken glass panes in the lobby. Parliamentary visibility shifted to those whose contributions to profound discourse had hitherto been undiscovered.

In recent times, parliamentary sittings have been declining steadily. From the rough average of around 60 days annually, it touched an all-time low of 33 sittings in 2020, courtesy the pandemic. If present trends persist, this may even become the new normal. The state legislatures appear to have shown the way — hardly surprising because the quantum of law-making in the states has been shrinking. Even in Parliament, thanks to the incessant din and the brazen disregard of all rules, Bills have been rushed through in minutes because no discussion is possible in the fish-market atmosphere. What is also striking is the lack of public reaction to this travesty. The indifference suggests there are nominal expectations of people from Parliament.

The issue of a dysfunctional Parliament shouldn’t be brushed aside casually. First, there is growing public confusion over the role of the MP. The tendency to equate an MP with a corporator or zilla parishad member and an MLA is rampant. With financial powers having devolved substantially to the GST Council and fresh legislation becoming increasingly technical in nature, many of the earlier responsibilities of Parliament have gone. The MP, in effect, has become either a bridge between the people and the Centre or just another functionary of a political party — albeit with state privileges.

Most important, with parliamentary elections becoming more presidential in nature, the vote is now more for a Prime Minister rather than a local representative. With voters increasingly concerned with effective delivery of government schemes, the focus has shifted entirely to the executive and the bureaucracy. Today’s MP is in search of a role that goes beyond establishing a government’s majority and endorsing legislation crafted by the executive.

Indian democracy is thriving, but the parliamentary system is in deep crisis.