History of Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan (MKSS)
It was eleven years ago, in the summer of 1987, that the three founding activists of MKSS chose a humble hut in a small and impoverished village Devdungri in the arid state of Rajasthan, as their base to share the life and struggles of the rural poor. The oldest member of the group was Aruna Roy, who had resigned from the elite Indian Administrative Service over a decade earlier. She had worked in a pioneer developmental NGO, the Social Work and Research Centre, Tilonia, and gained important grassroots experience and contact with ordinary rural people, but now sought work which went beyond the delivery of services to greater empowerment of the poor. She was accompanied by Shankar Singh, a resident of a village not far from Devdungri, whose talent was in rural communication with a rare sense of humour and irony. He drifted through seventeen jobs - working mostly with his hands or his wits in a range of small factories and establishments - before he reached Tilonia, to help establish its rural communication unit. With him was his wife Anshi and three small children. The third activist of the group was Nikhil Dey, a young man who abandoned his studies in the USA in search for meaningful rural social activism. Together they had come to the village Devdungri, with only a general idea of their goal of work, to build an organisation for the rural poor. They were much clearer about what they did not want to do: they would not accept funding or set up the conventional institutional structures of buildings and vehicles common to most NGOs, they would not set up the usual delivery systems of services, they would accept not more than minimum wages for unskilled labour, and this too they would derive mainly from small research projects and assistance from friends, they would not accept international or government funding for their work, and they would not live with facilities superior to those accessible to the ordinary small farmer of the surrounding countryside. They lived in a hut no different from that inhabited by the poor of the village, with no electricity or running water, and they ate the same sparse food of thick coarse grain rotis as the working class villager. They had no vehicle, and used trucks and buses for transport. They continue to live in this way even today. The region which they had chosen for their life and work was environmentally degraded and chronically drought prone. The land-holdings were too small to be viable even if the rains came. There were few alternate sources of rural livelihood, and distress migration in the lean summer months was high. Government interventions mainly took the form of famine relief works, like construction of roads and tanks, with extremely high levels of corruption and extremely poor durability. Wages, even on government relief works, were low and payment too erratic to provide any real social security cover. Literacy levels were abysmally low, especially for women (1.4%) and even for men (26%). The average debt burden was colossal, at over 3,200 rupees per household. In their initial years, the MKSS got drawn in as partners in important local struggles of the poor, relating mainly to land and wages, but also women's rights, prices and sectarian violence. On May Day, 1990, the organisation was formally registered under the name Mazdoor Kisan Shakti Sangathan. Its ranks grew as MKSS built a strong cadre drawn from marginal peasants and landless workers, mainly from the lower socio-economic groupings. Locally the organisation gained recognition for its uncompromising but non-violent resistance to injustice such as an epic struggle to secure the payment of minimum wages to landless farm workers, and also for integrity and ethical consistency of the life-styles and the means adopted by its activists. The battle against corruption: the new instrument of public hearings In the winter of 1994, their work entered a new phase, breaking new ground with experiments in fighting corruption through the methodology of jan sunwais or public hearings. This movement, despite its local character, has had state-wide reverberations and has shaken the very foundations of the traditional monopoly, the arbitrariness and corruption of the state bureaucracy. In fact the movement contains the seeds for growth of a highly significant new dimension to empowerment of the poor, and the momentous enlargement of their space and strength in relation to structures of the state. As with most great ideas, the concept and methodology of public hearings or jan sunwais fashioned by the MKSS is disarmingly simple. For years, indeed centuries, the people have been in their daily lives habitual victims of an unremitting tradition of acts of corruption by state authorities - graft, extortion, nepotism, arbitrariness, to name only a few - but have mostly been silent sufferers trapped in settled despair and cynicism. From time to time, courageous individuals - political leaders, officials, social activists - have attempted to fight this scourge and bring relief to the people. But in most such efforts, the role of the people who are victims of such corruption has mostly been passive, without participation or hope. Such campaigns for the most part have arisen out of sudden public anger at an event and died down as suddenly or has been sustained critically dependent on a charismatic leadership. Consequently the results of campaigns against corruption have been temporary and unsustainable. The mode of public hearings initiated by MKSS, by contrast, commences with the premise of the fundamental right of people to information, about all acts and decisions of the state apparatus. In the specific context of development and relief public works, with which MKSS had been deeply involved for so many years, this right to information translates itself into a demand that copies of all documents related to public works are made available to the people, for a people’s audit. The important documents related to public works are the muster roll, which lists the attendance of the workers and the wages due and paid, and bills and vouchers which relate to purchase and transportation of materials. These are then read out and explained to the people, in open public meetings. The people thus have gained unprecedented access to information about, for instance, whose names were listed as workers in the muster rolls, the amounts of money stated to have been paid to them as wages, the details of various materials claimed to have used in the construction, and so on. They have learnt that a large number of persons, some long dead or migrated or non-existent, were listed as workers and shown to be paid wages which were siphoned away, that as many bags of cement were said to have used in the ‘repair’ of a primary school building as would be adequate for a new building, and innumerable other such stunning facts of the duplicity and fraud of the local officials and elected representatives. It is not as if they were unaware in the past that muster rolls are forged, that records are fudged, that materials are misappropriated, and so on. But these were general fears and doubts, and in the absence of access to hard facts and evidence, they were unable to take any preventive or remedial action. The public hearings dramatically changed this, and ordinary people spoke out fearlessly and gave convincing evidence against corruption, and public officials were invited to defend themselves. It is interesting and educative to see how officials and public representatives at various levels of the hierarchy have reacted to this unprecedented movement for people's empowerment. For a public hearing organised last year, for instance, the head of the district administration, known as the Collector, initially acceded to the demands of the MKSS activists, and issued instructions for copies of the muster rolls, bills and vouchers to be given to the activists. The village development officers however refused to comply with the written instructions of the Collector, and went on strike against the Collector's order, insisting that they would submit themselves to an audit only by government, and that they would refuse to share copies of documents with any non-officials. The agitation spread to the entire state of Rajasthan. The village panchayat [1] elections were then in progress and the Collector requested the withholding of the documents until the elections were over so that the village officials’ strike does not obstruct the election process. MKSS organised the public hearing in the absence of documents, but were still able to gather evidence for prima facie cases of corruption in works and delays in payment. These were presented to the Collector, who promised an enquiry. In compliance with this assurance, the official arrived at village Bagmal for an enquiry. The villagers had gathered, and the official commenced his examination in an open space under the shade of a spreading tree. However, 24 sarpanches] or elected village heads of surrounding villages who had nothing to do with the enquiry in progress, arrived at the spot and raised an uproar. A woman sarpanch tore the shirt of a villager giving evidence. The official remained silent, but shifted his enquiry indoors. Threats and assaults on the villagers and activists continued subsequently. It is significant that the local administration in the four districts in which public hearings were organised by MKSS refused to register criminal cases or institute recovery proceedings against the officials and elected representatives against whom incontrovertible evidence of corruption had been gathered in the course of the public hearings and their follow-up. The enormous significance of this struggle has been its fundamental premise that ordinary people should not be condemned to remain dependent on the chance good fortune of an honest and courageous official, or political or social leader, to release them from time to time from the oppressive stranglehold of corruption. The people must be empowered to control and fight this corruption directly. For this, firstly they require a cast-iron right to information. Concretely, this means that the citizen must have the right to obtain documents such as bills, vouchers and muster rolls, connected with expenditures on all local development works. Equipped with such information, as we have seen, the people would be empowered to place this before and explain these documents to the concerned village communities, in a series of 'public hearings'. In these hearings, concrete evidence of corruption such as false muster rolls, diversion of building materials etc. would come to light. Armed with such evidence, the people would now be empowered to demand action against the corrupt, and recovery of diverted development expenditures. From public hearings to the movement for an enforceable right to information The public hearings organised by MKSS evoked widespread hope among the underprivileged people locally, as well as among progressive elements within and outside government. In October, 1995, the Lal Bahadur Shastri National Academy of Administration, Mussoorie, which is responsible for training all senior civil service recruits, took the unusual step of organising a national workshop of officials and activists to focus attention on the right to information. Meanwhile, responding to the public opinion that coalesced around the issue, the Chief Minister of Rajasthan on 5 April, 1995 announced in the state legislature that his government would be the first in the country to confer to every citizen the right to obtain for a fee photo-copies of all official documents related to local development works. However, a full year later, this assurance to the legislature was not followed up by any administrative order. This lapse of faith was presumably under pressure both from elected representatives and officials connected with such works, who regard as their birthright the illegal siphoning off of major portions of such expenditure. Exactly one year after the aborted assurance of the Chief Minister, and to coincide with an election campaign shrill in its hypocrisy regarding corruption, the MKSS decided to launch at a small town Beawar a dharna[3].The demand was to press for the issue of administrative orders to enforce the right to information of ordinary citizens regarding local development expenditure. The state government responded by issuing an order on the first day of the dharna, allowing citizens the right to inspect such documents for a fee, but not to obtain certified copies or photo-copies. The MKSS rejected this order as toothless and diversionary, because in the absence of a legally valid copy, no action such as filing a police case can be undertaken by a citizen who detects defalcation. Further no time-limits and penalties were prescribed for compliance and non-compliance respectively with these orders. In order to press for a more cast-iron government circular, the MKSS continued its dharna. A delegation met the Chief Minister during on election meeting at the village Jawaja, and he verbally conceded to the demand but refused to issue written instructions until the elections were over. The stalemate continued. Each day since the launching of the dharna meanwhile witnessed an unprecedented upsurge of homespun idealism in the small town of Beawar and the surrounding countryside. Donations in cash and kind poured in daily from ordinary local people, including vegetables and milk from small vendors, sacks of wheat from farmers in surrounding villages, tents, voluntary services of cooking, serving cold water, photography and so on, and cash donations from even the poorest. Even more significant was the daily assembly of over 500 people in the heat of the tent, listening to speeches and joining in for slogans, songs and rallies. Active support cut across all class and political barriers. Rich shopkeepers and professionals to daily wage labourers, and the entire political spectrum from the right wing fringe to communist trade unions extended vocal and enthusiastic support. Speaking at random to people both in the dharna and in shops and streets of the crowded and dusty marketplace, we found surprisingly high awareness of the issues involved. 'Why cannot the government give us information regarding expenditures made in our name?' passionately demanded a waiter in a tea-stall. 'It is a fight for justice for the poor' affirmed the owner of a pavement shop selling rubber footwear. Everyone we spoke to was unanimous that there was no other agitation since Independence to which women and men from all backgrounds extended such unstinted support and in which they saw so much hope. They praised the MKSS activists for their discipline, courtesy, the simplicity of their life-styles, their lack of political ambitions and the authenticity of their motives. The dharna continued without resolution, but with continuously growing manifest public support, overshadowing locally the more familiar drama associated with the rough and tumble of the election schedule. Behind the scenes, intermediaries and sympathisers including some from within government attempted to re-establish dialogue between the activists and government and reach a compromise. However, no assurance from government was forthcoming, and therefore after completion of polling on 2 May, 1996, while the dharna continued in Beawar, it spread also to state capital of Jaipur. In Jaipur, in an unprecedented gesture, over 70 people's organisations and several respected citizens came forward to extend support to the MKSS demand. The mainstream press was also openly sympathetic. In the end, an official press-note was issued in Jaipur on 14 May, 1996 on behalf of the Rajasthan state government. It stated firstly that the state government had taken a decision on the issue not because of the pressure of people's organisations, but because of the government's own commitment to transparency and controlling corruption. It went on to announce the establishment of a committee which within two months would work out the logistics to give practical shape to the assurance made by the Chief Minister to the legislature, regarding making available photo-copies of documents relating to local development works. The MKSS and other people's organisations who were involved in the struggle decided to take this assurance of the state government on face value and call off the dharna. It was a highly significant victory, even if reluctantly conceded, in the on-going movement for people's empowerment. But clearly several battles remained to be fought before the state would concede genuine space to real accountability to the poor. Another year passed and despite repeated meetings with the Chief Minister and senior cabinet members and state officials, no order was issued and shared with the activists, although again there were repeated assurances. In the end, on a hot summer morning in May, 1997, began another epic dharna, this time in the state capital of Jaipur close to the State Secretariat. The struggle saw the same outpourings of public support as had been seen in Beawar a year earlier. At the end of 52 days of the dharna, the Deputy Chief Minister made an astonishing announcement, that six months earlier, the state government had already notified the right to receive photo-copies of documents related to panchayat or village local government institutions. Why such an order, ironically related to transparency, had been kept a secret, even during the 52-day dharna, remained a mystery. Nevertheless, the order of the state government was welcomed as a major milestone, because for the first time, it recognised the legal entitlement of ordinary citizens to obtain copies of government held documents. The MKSS and other organisations set about organising people to use this important entitlement. However, they continued to face in a majority of cases an obstinate bureaucracy and recalcitrant local government representatives who still refused to supply copies of documents. The MKSS has responded to such problems by complaints to authorities, from local levels to the state government, highlighting the illegal withholding of information in the press, and organising and mobilising people to mount peaceful democratic agitational pressure on the authorities. To take a case study, the sarpanch or elected head of the village panchayat of Harmara refused to give copies of muster rolls, bills and vouchers for works conducted in his panchayat. MKSS workers made repeated visits to the sarpanch, and kept a meticulous record of the number of times they unsuccessfully contacted the sarpanch for these documents. At the time of writing, 65 such visits and appeals to the sarpanch had been made, but with very limited success. After a while, the sarpanch and panchayat secretary stopped visiting the panchayat office altogether. The MKSS workers then visited his home, but were manhandled and pushed out. The sarpanch followed this up by registering a false complaint against the MKSS workers in the police station, who responded with their own police complaint. The Rajasthan State Campaign Committee on Right to Information held a dharna, in collaboration with the state People’s Union for Civil Liberties, but the sarpanch remained recalcitrant. Eventually, MKSS gave notice for a dharna at the sub-divisional headquarters of Kishengarh, with backing from the National Campaign for Right to Information. The sarpanch finally responded with documents for only 3 works out of the 20 sought, and these were also incomplete and unreliable with extensive over-writing. The Block Office gave copies of muster rolls for 13 works the night before the dharna, but no bills and vouchers. The Collector ordered a special audit and seizure of the documents, but this was also not implemented. By contrast, for Kukurkheda panchayat, MKSS workers demanded documents in a meeting of the village panchayat, but were refused. They complained to superior authorities but without avail. They then mounted agitations, including dharnas and picketing at the office of the sarpanch. He relented within 2 weeks, and gave documents relating to all works in his panchayat.
