Ending VIP culture: Modi's red beacon ban is only a start

It says something for the power of popular opinion in India’s noisy democracy that politicians for the past few years have been engaged in a little-noticed if undemanding competition called Renouncing the Red Beacon. The Aam Aadmi Party’s Arvind Kejriwal occupied the high moral ground by making his government the first to scrap beacons on their cars, that universally hated symbol of VIP pelf and privilege, in 2015. But last week, Nitin Gadkari, Union minister for road transport and highways, probably stole a march on him in the publicity stakes by jumping the May 1 deadline set by Prime Minister Narendra Modi to end this invidious symbol of VIP culture. “Every Indian is a VIP,” Mr Modi tweeted last week, adding that the use of beacons would be limited to emergency vehicles such as ambulances and fire-fighting trucks. Still, the ripple effect of Mr Kejriwal's initiative has been remarkable. In Punjab, the state’s new chief minister, Amarinder Singh, had vowed to abjure it as soon as he took charge, and even in Uttar Pradesh Yogi Adityanath has taken time out from his cow-protection campaign to launch a similar initiative in his state, extending the exercise to a scrutiny of VIP privilege in general.

At a time when the misuse of privilege has dominated the headlines after a Shiv Sena MP was filmed assaulting an Air India employee for not providing him with his entitlement — a business class seat, on a flight that did not have that category — Mr Gadkari’s abstinence has certainly made him “morally happy”, he told reporters, and it deserves approval since Mr Modi can expect some push-back from his government. Already, Cabinet Minister for Water Resources, River Development and Ganga Rejuvenation Uma Bharti, a sadhvi, has problems with this particular form of renunciation. The red beacon, she said, should be allowed only when ministers were on official work (as opposed to a personal journey) — she even endorses holding flights “five or seven minutes” for similar reasons. Given that Mr Modi is inclined to endorse his pet projects by example — sweeping a street corner at the launch of Swachh Bharat, leading a Yoga session on his mandated World Yoga Day — Ms Bharti and other ministers who harbour similar views may find it expedient to keep their thoughts to themselves.

Perhaps renaming the road on which the official prime ministerial residence stands from the hedonistic Race Course Road to Lok Kalyan Marg makes it incumbent on Mr Modi to follow through on what is, at best, a symbolic initiative. One compelling way to do so would be to embargo the habitual traffic diversions and road blocks when VIPs are on the move. Every urban commuter is familiar with the interminable wait for some minister or the other to pass by or of jeep-loads of gun-toting security personnel who menacingly push traffic to the kerb to make way for a VIP. Indeed, it would do our elected representatives good to suffer the habitual jams that ordinary mortals face. 

For a country that aspires to a seat at the global high table, India would do well to emulate the relatively simple style of leaders in western democracies. Their security details and traffic movements are no less elaborate but significantly less intrusive and disruptive than India’s long-standing banana republic-style practices. This behaviour tends to accentuate resentment of the many privileges politicians enjoy — subsidised travel, food, housing, even water and electricity — that are out of the reach of many ordinary Indians. Though these can be justifiably considered compensation for public servitude, a little less overt display of privilege would allay those negative perceptions. Which is why, dispensing with the red beacon is a good opportunity to extend the initiative and truly demonstrate that if all Indians are VIPs, then some Indians cannot be more VIP than others.