CELEBRITY COMMISSIONER: Lyngdoh

The atmosphere in Chief Election Commissioner (CEC) James Michael Lyngdoh's first floor office in Delhi's Nirvachan Sadan-seat of the Election Commission of India-reflects its master. There is at once subdued excitement and aloofness. The staff is learning to cope with the boss' newly acquired celebrity status, juggling petitions from Muslims in Ahmedabad's refugee camps, fan mail from Hindus across northern India, phone calls from poll officers in Jammu and Kashmir.

Ever since Prime Minister Atal Bihari Vajpayee reproached Lyngdoh and Gujarat's Chief Minister Narendra Modi for their public slanging match, the CEC has gone into a shell. Modi had accused Lyngdoh of postponing elections in Gujarat to help fellow Christian Sonia Gandhi, the Congress president. The former bureaucrat was contemptuous in reply, calling Modi's words the "gossip of menials who had not heard of atheism".

BATTLE IN THE SUPREME COURT

Bench Markers On Tuesday, August 26, a five-judge constitutional bench of the Supreme Court took cognisance of the presidential reference, asking it to clarify the Election Commission's powers in the context of the Gujarat election. Four days later, the apex court stressed the need for speedy hearings. "The reference," the bench observed, "raises several important issues that need to be decided as expeditiously as possible." The court's aspirations are, however, unlikely to be fulfilled. Notices have been issued to six national parties and 28 state Governments to appear before the court. As half of these governments are controlled by the Congress-in no hurry for elections-dilatory tactics are to be expected. The battle really is one between Article 324, which gives the EC powers to conduct elections, and Article 174, which requires an assembly session be convened between six months of its previous sitting. Lyngdoh's August 16 order deferring polls argued, "Article 174 must yield to Article 324 in the interest of genuine democracy and purity of elections." Thereafter the CEC used an innovative dipstick test for normality in Gujarat. He relied on the number of "below poverty line" families drawing free rations under a state scheme for the riot-affected. By the Narendra Modi Government's own admission, 2.7 million families were to draw these rations in 20 of Gujarat's 25 districts till October. So how could the state be fit for elections a month earlier? The Gujarat Assembly last met on April 3. Another sitting within six months, by October 2, is now impossible. EC rules call for an announcement of the election schedule at least 45 days in advance. October 2 is just over a month away. After that the status of Modi's caretaker regime will become morally questionable. Lyngdoh has suggested President's rule as an answer, leading the BJP to complain that he is overstepping his brief and that the imposition of Article 356 is the executive's prerogative. By refusing to hold elections, Lyngdoh, the BJP feels, is attempting to offer a fait accompli. EC officials say the confrontation could have been avoided if Modi had consulted them before dissolution. "In the past," points out a senior EC bureaucrat, "chief ministers have sought our help to advance elections. We usually advise them to convene a short assembly session so as to meet the requirements of Article 174." The BJP claims it received no such signals of cooperation from Lyngdoh. On July 18, a day before the Gujarat Assembly was dissolved, a top party leader met the CEC and duly primed him. "Lyngdoh," says a BJP source, "threw a challenge at us when we went to meet him. He had made up his mind even before he travelled to Gujarat." As the Indian polity makes its way through unchartered territory, the coming days are going to set a number of precedents. One argument being put forward by BJP legal eagles draws from the constitutional provision that allows a person to be a minister for six months without being a member of the legislature. Since the Gujarat Assembly was dissolved on July 19, by this reckoning Modi and his team can stay in office till January 18, 2003-even without elections. That would be unorthodox-but then this seems the season for constitutional conundrums. -Lakshmi Iyer

Nonetheless this wordy duel has made Lyngdoh a small-scale cult figure, a hero to the little man who loves nothing more than somebody standing up to politicians. "In these days of so-called religious fervour," reads a poignant postcard from one A. Rahman in Delhi, "your remarks about religion, personal belief and atheism were very refreshing."

The black belt karateka from the Khasi Hills of Meghalaya has caught the imagination of not just big city agnostics but even Brahmins in Gorakhpur, eastern Uttar Pradesh and in Himachal Pradesh. Some of them have written Lyngdoh appreciative letters with customary invocations to Shiva. They say they admire him for his impatience, his public rebuke of Gujarat officials, his no-nonsense attitude. At times the brusque manner can backfire. The Gujarat Minorities Commission chief has protested against Lyngdoh allegedly calling him a "government stooge".

Politicians may smirk at the man they call the "chhota (mini) Seshan" but they can't discount the innovative emotions of a letter that advises Lyngdoh, "Don't buckle to any pressure. Whole country is looking up to you to save 5,000 years of democracy."

In his native Northeast, Lyngdoh's confrontation with the Union Government has blurred tribal identities. "We are proud that someone from the Northeast has taught the BJP Government a lesson," says Nagaland MP Apok Jamir (Congress). Purno A. Sangma hails from the Garo Hills and was probably Delhi's most famous Meghalaya immigrant before Lyngdoh came along. The former Lok Sabha speaker attests to Lyngdoh's reputation, "I can vouch that he is not given to any bias. He is a straight man. His late elder brother Robert was my additional chief secretary."

Success has many fathers. Appropriately, Lyngdoh's newsmaking abilities seem to revive old friendships. IAS mates from the Bihar cadre enthusiastically jog their memories to add to the legend of an honest, fearless officer. Recalls I.C. Kumar, who like Lyngdoh was a 1961 batch officer: "As district magistrate of Purnea, he started a campaign against big landlords for flouting the Land Ceiling Act. Midway through the campaign he was transferred to Saharsa."

Another colleague, R.U. Singh, remembers how Lyngdoh flung a file at his superior at the end of an argument: "He was very choosy about his friends. He is closest to A.R. Bandhopadhyay, who retired as National Library director in Kolkata." Lyngdoh and Bandhopadhyay speak to each other every week.

Despite his Bihar days, Lyngdoh had a relatively quiet career at the Centre. He served in the agriculture and tourism ministries and retired in early 1997 as cabinet coordination secretary. He briefly made headlines when he dropped out of the race for cabinet secretary to allow batchmate T.S.R. Subramanium the job. A day after his IAS career ended, the United Front government appointed him to the EC. Lyngdoh filled the outgoing T.N. Seshan's slot.

While M.S. Gill was CEC, Lyngdoh did precious little other than bide his time and smile at press conferences. However, during the 1999 parliamentary elections, he verbally exiled Chief Minister Om Prakash Chautala from the Bhiwani constituency in Haryana. Since Chautala was registered as a voter in Bhiwani, a Punjab and Haryana High Court judge took suo motu cognisance of the order and passed strictures against Lyngdoh for violating Chautala's electoral rights.

The case was later dropped but BJP functionaries-now involved in a constitutional battle with the CEC (see box)-refer to the incident as an early sample of Lyngdoh's megalomania. To Arun Jaitley, BJP general secretary, "He is a cowboy bureaucrat. Under Article 324 (which gives the EC supervisory powers to conduct elections), he thinks the commission becomes God." Unfortunately for Jaitley, a lot of people are only too willing to confer on Lyngdoh a divine status.

-with Sanjay Kumar Jha