Some Trends in Our Parliamentary Democracy

Prof. K. V. RAO

Parliamentary democracy may be broadly described as a system of Government where a nation governs itself through its representatives assembled in a Parliament, as opposed to direct democracy where the nation’s laws are made in popular assemblies as in ancient Greek City-states. In this sense, all modern states might be said to be parliamentary democracies. But, in a narrow sense, it may be described as a system where the nation delegates its sovereign power to an elected Parliament for the governance of the country, out of which the executive is born and to which the latter is responsible. True it is that there is an executive Head independent of the Parliament, but he is only nominal or ‘constitutional’ and does not enjoy any real power. English Government is a typical example of this system, as opposed to the American system, where the nation elects both the legislature and the executive, separately, and entrusts them with separate powers, no one being ‘responsible’ to the other.

One of the hottest controversies raised in India, when our Constitution was on the anvil, and even later, was whether our system belongs to the American or to the British type. The Fathers of the Constitution, without exception, had no doubt at all on this point that what they had adopted was, in the words of Patel, ‘the parliamentary system of constitution, the British type of Constitution with which we are familiar.’ But most of the professors of political science (whose voice does not as yet count for much in India), with only a few exceptions, were equally emphatic, in the words of a worthy among them, that ‘the Constitution that was inaugurated on the 26th. Jan. 1950 was not of the British type, whatever might be the intentions of the Fathers.’ The bone of contention was the power which the Constitution confers on the President. A point of great significance. often missed by many pandits, is that, while the Constitution undoubtedly ‘vests’ the executive power in the President (Art. 53 (1)) and confers other extraordinary powers like ordinance-making and emergency powers, not even the legislative power is ‘vested’ in the Parliament–nowhere is it said that Parliament makes the law in India. On the other hand, usage, customs and ordinance have been included in ‘law’ by our Constitution. The President is the fulcrum around whom the other organs revolve, but not the Parliament as it ought to be in a parliamentary system; that has been the line of argument of what we may call the ‘critics’ of the Constitution, who expected that the actual working of the Constitution would bear them out.

But the actual working of the Constitution during the first five years (1951-52–1956-57) seems to belie their expectations. On the contrary, it may be claimed that the foundations for the tradition of parliamentary democracy have been firmly laid in this period; and it may be noted that tradition or convention is a great factor in politics, and especially in the parliamentary type. The President of India, Dr. Rajendra Prasad, behaved in an exemplary manner. With an undisputed popularity which he gained as a disciple of Gandhiji, Dr. Prasad has truly personified the will of the Indian nation, and became its real head; and he only reigned, but not governed. That he commanded considerable influence in the counsels of the Government of India and that no important decision was taken without consulting him, is probably true, but that also is an attribute of parliamentary government–the king possessing, in Bagehot’s immortal words, ‘a right to be consulted, the right to encourage, and the right to warn.’ But outwardly, the decisions are the decisions of the Council of Ministers, and there has not been a single instance where he tried to exercise his power. The President has remained ‘nominal’, and there is no doubt about it.

But does it mean that the foundations of parliamentary democracy have been firmly laid? Critics could as well point out that certain exceptionally favourable circumstances have brought about this happy consummation, of which the personal factor has played the most important part, and these might not repeat themselves again. In the first place, Dr. Prasad was also the President of the Constituent Assembly, and so, likeGeneral Washington in the U. S., could appreciate the role of a ‘Constitutional President.’ In the secondplace, he and the majority party in the Parliament have the same political complexion believing in the same principles and social values. And, above all, he and Prime Minister Nehru have been comrades in arms for over a quarter of a century, and have learnt the value of ‘give and take’. Nehru and Prasad long ago learnt under Gandhiji the art of playing the two blades of a scissors, Nehru playing the active role.

Another favorable feature that prevented the active intervention of the President was that the Congress Party had an unassailable majority in both Houses of Parliament, and this party had an undisputed leader in Pandit Nehru. The result was that the President had neither the headaches of the French President in finding out stable ministries, nor the opportunities of the English Kings in the 18th century to fish in troubled political waters. In other words, the Parliament had been strong enough to resist any possible inroads into its stronghold of sovereign powers.

Does it mean, however, that if the President has not exercised the power, the Parliament did? Here again we have to understand the correct role of Parliament in a Government of this sort. Contrary to the popular view, Parliament in Britain does not govern, nor is it intended to govern. As Jennings reminds us, its function is to criticise, to supervise and to act as a liaison between the Government and the people; that is, as Ilbert concludes, the objective of this type of Government is ‘a strong executive Government, tempered and controlled by constant, vigilant, and representative criticism.’ In other words, it is ministers that exercise power, but they, though not elected by Parliament, are still responsible to it–collectively, says Art. 75 (3) of our Constitution, it may be noted.

To this extent, our Constitution has worked as a parliamentary system, because it is an undoubted fact that in India so far it is ministers that exercised the real power. What we have to examine here is to what extent their action has been (i) collective, and (ii) responsible.

Collective responsibility, as understood in England, has many implication. One is that all decisions of the executive are binding on all ministers, whether they individually subscribe to that view or not, which further implies that all such decisions are placed before the full Cabinet and discussed fully, and that where a particular minister finds it difficult to own it, he would resign before he openly opposes it.

It may well be noted that collective responsibility is not merely based on the dictum that two heads are better than one, but has evolved in England as an organic part of that Constitution, as a necessary result of a need felt to stand united against both King and Parliament. This need, again in England, has been greatly reduced by the disappearance of the King as a potent claimant to power on the one hand, and by the emergence of party discipline on the other, which ensures easy victory in the Commons to the party, however great might be the internal differences of opinion (as seen in the recent case of ‘police action’ in Egypt). Collective responsibility stands, in England, both as a matter of convention and because of a need for collective wisdom.

Introduced as a mechanical, part of an artificially made Constitution, collective responsibility seems to work in India as all mechanical aids do more to order than due to an impulse felt for its need. We do not know the internal working of the Cabinets in India, but to the extent to which we are enabled to know, there seem to be a few cracks already formed in collective thinking and cabinet solidarity. The statements made by the late Dr. Ambedkar, and C. D. Deshmukh on their resignations, both point to this particular aspect of the working of Cabinets, that important decisions are taken elsewhere than at the Cabinet meeting, and that ministers come to know about them, as the members of the public, only from the newspapers. Even Pandit Nehru confessed once or twice that he did not know the decisions taken by a particular ministry on a particular point. There is enough evidence to discern the evolution of two broad tendencies: that individual ministers enjoy a great latitude to take decisions over a large field without consulting the full Cabinet, or even the Prime Minister; and that some important decisions are taken by sub-committees of the Cabinet, or groups of ministers, and these decisions may not be brought before the full Cabinet, depending upon the wish of the Prime Minister. But such tendencies are neither peculiar to India alone, nor are they undesirable by themselves. Governmental activity has increased manifold, and has become technical and complicated since the days when the principles of collective responsibility were first discerned and put down in written formulae.

One of the important causes behind them is the dominating personality of Pandit Nehru. Panditji seems to believe in the ancient dictum of administration: ‘choose the most capable lieutenants, and then trust them’. But that is a dictum suitable for the monarchical type of Government, successfully put into practice by Akbar in India. To-day, Governments should not only be ‘capable’ but also ‘responsible.’ While the capacity of the Central ministers is a moot point and a matter of opinion, it can certainly be said that ‘responsibility’ has been blurred, and many a minister has taken shelter under the protecting wings of the Prime Minister, who had only to get up and say, “I take the full responsibility” to silence all criticism and opposition.

There has been one sharp exception–in the case of Sri Lal Bahadur Sastry. But it is a sad case setting a wrong example. To hold a minister responsible for a conspiracy of Nature and neglect of three minor officials on the spot in a remote part of the country, is neither good administration, nor setting up good tradition. Ministers execute policy, but do not adjust nuts and bolts to railway coaches. Imagine a Railway Minister resigning every time an engine derails, or a Home Minister resigning every time there is an armed dacoity, or a Health Minister resigning every time there is a small-pox epidemic! And if responsibility is accepted at all, then the whole ministry should have resigned but not a mere individual, as our Constitution speaks of collective but not of individual responsibility (Art. 75).

Whatever it might be, there were other cases, where individual resignation or at least severe criticism and censure were indicated, but the ministers escaped lightly and remained in their posts. Broadly, there are two agencies to check these fads and faults of individual ministers in a system such as ours, where collective thinking has gone into thin air. One is the Prime Minister, and the other is the House of the People. The real difficulty with our Prime Minister is that he has got too many irons in the fire to spare time. One lesson that the working of our Constitution has so far given us is that a Prime Minister should not have any portfolio for himself so that he may be available and free both for advising other ministers and scrutnising their work.

The House could have done something, especially because our Constitution gives it full powers to make its own Rules of Procedure. But several factors again have contributed to convert it into an ineffective body. In the first place, everywhere in the world, legislative bodies are becoming mere ‘Talkie Houses’, and registering rubber stamps; and our Founding Fathers constitutionalised this defect when they modelled our House on the pattern of the British House of Commons. In the second place, the Congress Party, which has got such an overwhelming majority in the House, is a strong monolithic party working under great discipline. Pandit Nehru has only to look around in the House to silence all opposition from his own followers: and at times, one opposition member confessed to me, even the opposition members are afraid to talk freely when Pandit Nehru puts on a wry face!

A third factor, however, has contributed largely to reduce the efficacy of the House. Innocuous beginnings, which were made in the middle of the thirties in the Provinces, of holding informal meetings of the Legislature Parties for mutual consultations, have now developed them into parallel legislatures which are overshadowing the real Houses. In these meetings, minister come and explain policies, answer questions, and even the budget is discussed and ‘passed’. It is here only, if any, that real discussion can take place, but even here Pandit Nehru’s presence has a great silencing effect.

Thus if the over-powering personality of Pandit Nehru and the solidarity of the Congress Party have prevented the establishment of the presidential type of executive, the same factors have also prevented the establishment of a true type of parliamentary system; the strength of the present system is also the cause of its weakness. While we can declare emphatically that the working of the Constitution has not established the presidential type, we cannot say with equal emphasis that it has laid the foundations for a parliamentary type of executive. In fact, we cannot say to which type our executive leans; it is a unique type, where Pandit Nehru holds a unique position–we can call it a Parliamentary system ofexecutive.’

Not that it is undesirable by itself. For the last five years and odd, India has been enjoying a stable form of democracy, while the other new-born democracies of the East have not yet recovered from their birth-pangs: and this is largely due to the unique position of Pandit Nehru in Indian politics. In fact, Pandit Nehru is the darling of the Nation–the uncrowned King of India. And if the crown is not yet placed on his head, it is not because the people would be unwilling, but Pandit Nehru himself spurns it. No democratic leader in any free country enjoys as much popular esteem as our Prime Minister in India; and even dictators might envy his magic spell over the masses. A democrat with the drive of a dictator, and a dictator with a love of democracy, there is no rival to Pandit Nehru either in his own party or in the country–but that is the crux of our problem. In the parliamentary system of England, a Gladstone had always a Disraeli, and an Eden a Macmillan, but in our own country now, in the ‘Parliamentary Government of India’, Nehru is the Sun of his solar system.

There is no doubt that Pandit Nehru will be our Prime Minister for the next five years, and probably, for many more years to come. The Nation that adores him for winning independence for them and giving them a democratic Constitution and the socialistic pattern of society, would adore him more if in the next five years Pandit Nehru would help establishment of sound traditions of parliamentary Government for the guidance of the less fortunate of his successors.