The founders of our Republic were firm that in an egalitarian, democratic country there was no place for titles. But this idealistic concept was hard to adhere to in the face of a human weakness for recognition and one-upmanship. Under mounting pressure, the government in 1954 introduced the concept of the Republic Day honours list with the stipulation that selection for the Padma awards was to be based exclusively on outstanding service in one’s field and on no other consideration. To discourage the tendency to flaunt awards as if they were titles, it was decreed that you could not display your awards on visiting cards and letterheads to announce your supposed superiority. Half a century later it is a moot point whether these noble sentiments have been adhered to. Every Republic Day there are grumbles about the choice of awardees by those rejected, who invariably carp about slipping standards. This year for some reason there seems to be greater heartburn than before. Are the winners chosen for genuine outstanding service in their fields or for services to the government of the day? Or is it that they happen to be close to the people in power? Lobbying and undercutting has been an integral part of the award selection process and it does not pay to be coy. In the case of this year’s four Padma Vibhushans, one is struck not by the lack of merit of the recipients, but by the extraordinary time lag in at least two cases. Former chief minister of Sikkim, Kazi Lhendup Dorji, helped dismantle the monarchy in Sikkim three decades ago and octogenarian historian B.R. Nanda had already received the Padma Bhushan in 1988 for his books on the freedom movement. Clearly someone influential decided to jog the selection committee’s memory. In the case of the much younger Sonal Mansingh, of course there could have been no memory lapse by the committee, since the undeniably talented dancer is a very visible presence in the present dispensation. But, the question that begs an answer is, did no Indian during 2002 reach such pinnacles of excellence in his or her field as to deserve a Padma Vibhushan? Some wisecracks have described this year’s 88 Padma Bhushans and Padma Shris as the ‘‘Who, Who? awardees’’ since many names are unfamiliar. This is actually partly because a number of them are long past their peak. For instance, the only cricketer to be named is S. Venkatraghavan (Padma Shri) who made his mark on the game back in the seventies. The name of Rahul Dravid, who did his country proud in its favourite sport last year, did not even come up for discussion in the selection committee’s meeting. Recognising a person’s worth only at the fag end of his life surely takes away half the pleasure for the recipient. Satyajit Ray got his Bharat Ratna when he was dying and had already received an Oscar for lifetime achievement. In India, awards can come even after half a century. V.P. Singh, as prime minister in 1990, decided to honour Sardar Patel, Maulana Azad, B.R. Ambedkar and Netaji Subhas Chandra Bose posthumously. Another contentious issue is that there are no proper criteria for deciding who gets which Padma award. For instance, this year Aamir Khan of Lagaan fame and other great names from the cinema world, like Gulzar and Rakhee, have been lumped in the lower Padma Shri category, while many less distinguished persons in the field of art, culture and literature have walked away with Padma Bhushans. If Padma Shris do not generally quibble, it is partly because it has become a common practice to work your way up from one Padma award to the next, as if you were moving up the corporate ladder. One of the few who complained was the 81-year-old Kathak exponent Sitara Devi, who last year justifiably turned down her Padma Bhushan on the ground that it was a case of too little, too late. Her juniors like Kishan Maharaj and Kishori Amonkar had been decorated with the Padma Vibhushan. According to a former member of the Padma committee, normally about 900 names are received from all over the country, of whom 300 are usually doctors. Sharada Prasad, also familiar with the selection process, concurs that there is a high content of doctors and dancers among the applications. But other professions, whether journalists or civil servants, can also have active lobbyists. Though there is a school of thought which believes that government servants should not in fact be honoured for their professional duties. In 1992, the awards were temporarily suspended after a PIL was filed challenging the system of Republic Day civilian honours. The Supreme Court ruled in favour of continuing with the practice but with the proviso that the norms for bestowing the awards should be clearly spelt out and the advice of experts in various fields sought. As a consequence, the selection committee no longer comprises of only secretaries to the Government of India, the majority are non-official members. This year’s outside experts were: Cho Ramaswamy, MP and actor, R.M. Bathews, former UPSC chairman, Chandan Mitra, editor of The Pioneer, Amjad Ali Khan, sarod player, Maheep Singh, writer, and Anil Kakodkar, chairman of the Atomic Energy Commission. With some honourable exceptions like Khan, it is felt that the selectors were themselves not doyens of their respective professions so as to be able to sit in judgement over their professional colleagues. Besides some of them were definitely vulnerable to pulls and pressures. There were no representatives from key areas like the fine arts and sports and the selection did not have an all-India character. The truth is that there can never be a foolproof method of selection. Eventually it is not the norms laid down alone, but the persons selected to choose the awardees. who are the deciding factor. And if the committee itself does not inspire confidence, the credibility of the awards gets eroded.
