Assam bureaucracy and governance
The framers of India’s Constitution always envisioned the bureaucracy as the pivot around which governments would translate policy into action.

Wriiten by: Bidyut K Baruah

Bureaucracy has long been considered the steel frame of the governance system of any country—more so in India because of the dichotomy that exists between the functioning of bureaucrats and the political governments they are meant to serve on behalf of the people.

While governments come and go, bureaucrats remain. They provide solidity, continuity, and impartiality to the policies and objectives of successive governments. This tradition has held firm since India’s independence, despite numerous institutional and individual challenges. Each time someone declares that “bureaucracy is dead,” another voice counters with “long live the bureaucracy,” ensuring continuity and preventing abrupt disruptions in governance.

Yes, there have been moments when the system has been tested. There have been times when doubts have crept even into the minds of the most pragmatic observers. Yet each time, the steel frame has defied perceived wisdom and emerged stronger, more reflective, and unified.

A recent article in the northeastern edition of a once-reputed weekly magazine—now seemingly relying more on its historical legacy than on rigorous journalism—listed ten “commanders” of the present Government of Assam. The poorly researched and hurriedly written piece sang paeans to a select few while plainly, and one may say deliberately, overlooking the broader functioning of the state’s bureaucracy.

Of course, the author could have named several others. However, the ideal course would have been to avoid such an exercise altogether. In the history of Indian journalism since Independence, very few publications have attempted such a futile ranking merely to fill web space or printed pages.

One could also sense that the piece may have been commissioned by someone seeking either attention from, or favour with, an efficient Chief Minister whose understanding of bureaucracy is widely acknowledged. Be that as it may, this columnist—having observed the workings of the bureaucracy from close quarters—believes that the most basic ingredient of good writing, namely rigorous homework, was missing from the ghost writer’s arsenal.

Since the piece was not attributed to any individual author, one also has reason to question the media ethics of the weekly in question, especially because its parent publication still commands respect in many quarters.

By naming a few, the article has effectively alienated the others. By flattering a select group, it risks discouraging many more. By zeroing in on a handful, it has inadvertently created a schism within the bureaucracy. Even more troubling is that it includes a retired officer—now serving on extension—whose tenure has been marked by multiple court cases and repeated appearances of his department before courts and tribunals, and whose record within bureaucratic circles is hardly exemplary. Placing such officers in the same bracket as others is not only embarrassing for those praised in the piece as lynchpins of the government but must also be disconcerting for senior bureaucrats in terms of rank and professional standing.

Historically, both in the states and at the Centre, a few bureaucrats have indeed distinguished themselves through original thinking, impeccable integrity, dedication, and the ability to work quietly behind the scenes while allowing elected governments to take the credit. That is precisely why they have earned recognition and respect.

The framers of India’s Constitution always envisioned the bureaucracy as the pivot around which governments would translate policy into action. It was meant to be the bulwark of governance. Consequently, the idea of a “super bureaucrat” has rarely made headlines except for the wrong reasons. In the bureaucracy, exceptions are rarely the norm.

Attempts to overplay such narratives have often met with their own comeuppance. Yes, bureaucrats have sometimes transitioned from serving governments to becoming part of them—by entering politics as elected representatives. Yet the basic structure of governance has stood the test of time in India.

The media, widely regarded as a vigilant watchdog, must remember that the notion of ten bureaucrats—or any small group—driving a high-speed governance machine is both illogical and simplistic. It betrays a rudimentary misunderstanding of how bureaucratic systems function. It also risks underestimating the intelligence of the public.

Another glaring flaw in the piece was its suggestion that only officers of the Indian Administrative Service contribute meaningfully to governance. Assam Civil Service officers and members of other services were given short shrift—an oversight that reveals either ignorance or bias.

An independent media institution is far more than a printing press or a business enterprise. Its responsibility to uphold free speech and public accountability must not be undermined by its own actions. Doing so damages not only the credibility of journalism—the fourth pillar of democracy—but also the broader body politic, which is already facing pressures from multiple directions.

To conclude: the article—or commissioned piece—referred to above has ended up flattering a few while deceiving many, including the publication house that chose to print it.

The views expressed in this article are the author’s own and do not necessarily reflect the views of Northeast Now.