Bureaucrats Under Stress [Reprint 2020 ed.] 9780520311916

Citation preview

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

RICHARD P. TAUB

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS Administrators and Administration in an Indian State

1969 Berkeley and Los Angeles

UNIVERSITY OF CALIFORNIA PRESS

University of California Press Berkeley and Los Angeles, California Cambridge University Press London, England Copyright © 1969, by The Regents of the University of California Library of Congress Catalog Card Number: 68-58080 Printed in the United States of America

To Doris

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

The research for this study was conducted in Bhubaneswar, Orissa, India from September, 1962 until January, 1964 under a grant from the American Institute of Indian Studies. The Institute generously extended my grant for more than three months beyond its original term when it became apparent that I could not finish the job within the time allotted. It would be impossible for me to thank Professor Cora DuBois adequately for her contribution to this document. She originally encouraged me to carry out my research in Bhubaneswar, where she was conducting a long-term study titled "Confrontation of Modern Values and Traditional Values in a Changing Indian Town," and she placed her extensive resources at my disposal. These included research notes gathered in an ethnographic survey of the city in 1961-1962, introductions to many people in Bhubaneswar, and splendid advice at every stage of the study. The original research on which this book is based was carried out for my doctoral dissertation at Harvard University, under the direction of Professor Alex Inkeles. Professor Inkeles was the very model of a modern thesis adviser, providing incisive criticism and supervision without harassment. In addition, I am very grateful to Professors Stephen Berger, Carolyn Elliott, Warren Ilchman, David McClelland and David Potter, all of whom took the time to make extensive and detailed suggestions on an earlier draft of the manuscript. My thanks go as well to Mrs. Janet Eckstein, who provided helpful editorial advice. My warmest thanks go to the many people in Bhubaneswar who welcomed my wife and me into their community. Unfortunately, I cannot list their names, for to do so would violate their wish for anonymity. But such a list would more than fill a page. Without their cooperation, of course, this project could not have been undertaken. But, more important, it was their vii

viii

ACKNOWLEDGMENTS

helpfulness and their friendship that made our stay in Bhubaneswar much more than just "field research." Brown University has demonstrated its support for this effort in a meaningful and concrete way: through summer research grants which gave me time to do the writing, and through financial assistance in the preparation of the manuscript. The manuscript itself was typed under most difficult conditions by Miss Aurora Sequeira. Finally, special thanks go to my wife, Doris, who not only did all those things wives usually do in acknowledgments, but who was also a full participant through every stage of the research, and an exacting and creative critic. Naturally, the responsibility for the final product is mine.

FOREWORD

My admiration for Mr. Taub's book is wide ranging. In it he has combined the problems and interests of a sociologist with the sensitivities to cultural factors and to human situations that I like to believe represent the best tradition in anthropology. His interviews were skillful, sympathetic, and evocative. His discretion, so necessary in the delicate material he presents, is impeccable. He shares with all of us who have been associated with the larger Harvard-Bhubaneswar project a serious interest and deep concern, not only for theory but, more importantly, for India and, more specifically, for the State of Orissa. I shall not attempt to describe the situational context of Mr. Taub's concerns. He states them for himself in Chapter III. Among the varied virtues of Mr. Taub's book is that he has written it in lucid and forceful English. There is no touch of the pedantic jargon that so often serves only to disguise banalities. His readers should be grateful that his undergraduate major was in English literature at the University of Michigan. In Chapter IX Mr. Taub portrays clearly and succinctly the essential readjustments faced by India's premier corps of civil servants. In that chapter and elsewhere in this volume, his conclusions are based on a far wider range of information than he, in the interest of readability, has chosen to document. I know this to be the case because I have had the privilege of reading the "raw material" that Mr. Taub has deposited so conscientiously in the master files of the Harvard-Bhubaneswar project. His critique, also in Chapter IX, of the widely accepted Weberian model of bureaucracy is a trenchant challenge to that time-and-culture bound formulation. Here is the theoretic heart of his book. Furthermore, I am grateful to Mr. Taub for producing the first of some eight or nine studies that I hope will be published by the six American and three Indian associates who have been most closely involved in the Harvard-Bhubaneswar study of ix

x

FOREWORD

socio-valuational aspects of change. That he has found time and energy to revise drastically the thesis, which he completed in 1966 at Harvard's Department of Social Relations, while carrying the burdens of his first teaching appointment at Brown University is evidence both of his enthusiasm and diligence. At Brown he has been teaching political sociology and complex organizations. Meanwhile his interest in India remains undiminished. He and Mrs. Taub are studying Bengali with the hope of returning to India in the near future. A foreword to Mr. Taub's study is not the place to describe in detail either the intent or the contributions of other participants in the wider project. However, a few words of explanation and some acknowledgments beyond those immediately relevant to this volume may be appropriate. The larger enterprise was launched in 1961-62 on a three-year grant afforded me by the National Science Foundation and renewed through 1969. The grant provided funds for our Indian associates and my own expenses. The six Americans who participated in the project sought their own funds from other institutions. Among them the American Institute of Indian Studies was the most consistently generous. It supported successively Mr. Taub's work presented here, David Miller's inquiry into monastic orders in Bhubaneswar, Peter Grenell's research on town planning and decision making, and Alan Sable's survey of educational facilities. However, the central obligation is to the National Science Foundation, without whose grants our Indian associates, the centralizing files in Cambridge, and my own work could not have been effected. Perhaps even more important, as Mr. Taub indicates in his acknowledgments, is the support and confidence of Indian officials, at both the Central and State levels; their insights, dispassion, and good will have been crucial not only to Mr. Taub's work but to the projects all of us undertook. It is a pleasure in this foreword to recall more friends than are named, and to congratulate Mr. Taub on his accomplishments. CORA D U B O I S

Zemurray Professor March, 1968 Departments of Anthropology and Social Relations Harvard University

CONTENTS

I. II.

Introduction

1

The Indian Civil Service: A Historical Review

5

III.

The Study

15

IV.

The Indian Administrative Service: The Structure of the Organization

29

V. VI. VII. VIII. IX. X. XI.

The Officers: Who They Are and Why

They

Joined

60

Sources of Strain: The Changing Nature of the Job

89

Sources of Strain: The Democratization of Government

106

Sources of Strain: The Impact of Democratization on Income

136

Sources of Strain: The Impact of the British Legacy

152

The Contemporary Milieu

163

The IAS: An Overview

191

Appendices

207

Bibliography

227

Index

233

Chapter I Introduction

A mature and well-organized civil service is one of the items high on almost any list of the needs of developing countries. The new nations, it is commonly suggested, face almost insurmountable obstacles on the path toward economic development, and, at the very minimum, some national system of coordination is required to help them move along that path. In many of these nations, analysts continue, the entrepreneurial spirit is weak and, in addition, private capital is scarce; if these countries are to become modern industrial nations, the government, through its civil service, must play a large role indeed.1 Yet, many of these same commentators are disappointed in those very civil services which have shown signs of maturity. Many critics report that bureaucracy in developing nations is synonymous with red tape, nepotism, and corruption. Foreign travelers and other observers recount harrowing, if slightly amusing, tales of infuriating encounters with bureaucrats who frequently either stick to the letter of the law, consequently violating the spirit, or are unable to make decisions.2 Confronted by these "failures" of bureaucratic performance, critics distribute blame widely and generously. Edward Shils has suggested that "they [the civil services] have had to recruit at a dizzying rate without always being able to maintain a high standard—partly because they have not had available to them a reservoir of very high-grade persons, and partly because com1

See, for example, Edward Shils, Political Development in the New States (The Hague: Mouton & Co., 1965), p. 43; and Lucian W. Pye, Politics, Personality, and Nation Building (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1962). 2 Shils, loc. cit., and Peter Schmid, India: Mirage and Reality (London: Clarke, Irwin, 1961), are but two examples.

1

2

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

munal and parochial considerations have been allowed to intrude into the process of selection." 3 Other commentators have complained that the leaders are wedded to the obsolete traditions of the colonial rulers who trained them; still others object that leaders have broken too radically with the past, jettisoning many valuable traditions.4 But strikingly enough, most of these evaluations do not rest on careful study of the civil servants themselves: their attitudes toward their lives and their work, the structure of their organizations, and the nature of their work. Rather, they are based on casual observation, informal chats with selected groups, analysis of rules and regulations, or random gossip. There have been, it is true, some provocative analyses of the relationship between bureaucrats and politicians. But of systematic study of bureaucrats in their work setting there has been strikingly little.5 In addition, what there is of this work has suffered because of the implicit frames of reference within which it has been conducted. Underlying most discussions are implied comparisons with the idealized conception of governmental bureaucracy outlined by Max Weber.6 But no bureaucracy, in fact, does function with the efficiency implied in Weber's ideal type, and, consequently, all will be found wanting in this regard. Beyond this comparison, there seems to be a commitment to what might loosely be called democratic socialism.7 Too few American scholars have asked, however, whether democratically organized nations which rely heavily on their bureaucracies for "development" can possibly achieve their goals. This report represents a particular attempt to fill in some of 3

Shils, loc. cit. For the first view, see Pye, op. cit. For the second, see Ralph Braibanti and Joseph Spengler, Administration and Economic Development in India (Durham: Duke University Press, 1963), pp. 3-69. 5 For example, Morroe Berger studied Egyptian bureaucrats in his Bureaucracy and Society in Modern Egypt (Princeton: Princeton University Press, 1957), but he failed to place these men adequately in their work context. 6 Weber, Max, The Theory of Social and Economic Organization, trans, by A. M. Henderson and Talcott Parsons (Glencoe, Illinois: The Free Press, 1947), pp. 328-341. 7 Shils, op. cit., and Pye, op. cit. 4

INTRODUCTION

3

the missing data, and a general attempt to place the problem in a new perspective. It is based on a study of a group of civil servants in the small Indian capital city of Bhubaneswar in the state of Orissa. Most of these men are members of one of the developing world's most famous and thoroughly established civil services, the Indian Administrative Service (IAS). They represent an intellectual elite which joined the Service by passing a legendarily stringent competitive examination. As members of the Service, they must administer the plans and programs formulated in New Delhi, the nation's capital, several thousand miles away; coordinate these with the plans and programs of local political leaders; and implement them in the more provincial, isolated districts within their state. These men stand, then, midway between the cosmopolitan capital city of India and local districts as poor as any in the developing world. Their Service has high standards of performance and probity, and traditions which are old and well established. For the IAS is a descendant of the famous Indian Civil Service (ics), the prototype not only of other colonial civil services, but of much in the English Civil Service as well. The transition from ics to IAS was not simply a change in the middle initial. Although the changeover has not been accompanied by the decline in quality Shils has suggested, the context of operation and the problems to be dealt with have become quite different. No longer are officials the representatives of a colonial power; they are, instead, servants of the people in a nation committed to democratic politics, a nation whose citizens are increasingly learning to use their relatively new-found power. Further, they are charged with converting India from one of the poorest nations in the world into an economically developed one, a responsibility of depth and breadth of scope so qualitatively different from that of the old ics that one-to-one comparisons are impossible. We have here, then, a group of men who are members of a well-organized civil service, working in a democratic framework, trying to engineer profound economic and social improvements for their country. In the report which follows, I shall use this group as a case study in an attempt to answer certain questions about civil services in developing countries. As a case study, this report raises certain familiar methodo-

4

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

logical questions. Most notably, I have made the decision to sacrifice extensiveness for intensiveness and depth, because I believe that the most pressing need in the contemporary study of development administration is for detailed data on as many different areas as possible. Once a base of empirical materials has been established, it may be more feasible than it is at present to make broad generalizations concerning development processes. The second question raised by this approach concerns the generality of the findings. Just how representative are they of India and of the developing world? The civil servants under study are part of a national civil service whose men are allotted to particular states. Analysis of the composition of the Service from state to state shows Orissa to be comparable in terms of staffing patterns. Interviews with trainees, visits with officials from other states, and analysis of published materials all tend to support the view that the problems faced by officials in Orissa are similar to the problems administrators face throughout the country. I would not, and could not, claim that the Orissa cadre of the Indian Administrative Service is in any way "representative" of administrative bureaucracies in other developing countries. At the very least, however, intensive study of this particular group may raise general questions that will be applicable to other countries in similar situations. Having discussed some preliminary considerations, I should now like to turn to the Indian Civil Service and briefly explore its history. From there, I shall move to a description of my study and its findings. And finally, I shall place my findings in a more general context.

Chapter II The Indian Civil Service: A Historical Review

To comprehend the nature of the IAS, and gain a feeling for the aspirations of its members, it is useful first to look at the ics, its predecessor and model. Details of the history of the ics are buried in the standard reports of the period, such as the Cambridge History of India,1 but excellent scholarly studies of the early period have begun to appear in recent years.2 However, the public image of the Service has been shaped by three of its "official" historians. L. S. S. O'Malley,3 E. A. H. Blunt,4 and Philip Woodruff 5 are all articulate retired members of the Service for whom that service was something special and fine. They give us a kind of subjective history as they try to recreate the spirit that animated its agents as the Service grew and developed. I rely on their reports not because they are necessarily good historians of the subject, but more because they attempt to convey a feeling about the Service, almost a reverence, that is widely felt in India and in England, even—or perhaps especially —today.® Moreover, it is against this somewhat romanticized 1

H. H. Dodwell (ed.), Cambridge History of India: British India, 14971858 (Cambridge: The University Press, 1929), Vol. 5. 2 Such as B. B. Misra, The Central Administration of the East India Company: 1773-1844 (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1959). s L. S. S. O'Malley, The Indian Civil Service: 1601-1930 (London: Frank Cass & Co., 1965). 4 E . A. H. Blunt, The I. C. S., The Indian Civil Service (London: Faber and Faber, 1937). 5 Philip Woodruff, The Men Who Ruled India (New York: Schocken Books, 1964), 2 vols., Vol. I. 6 Although Bernard Cohn, in his bibliographic essay, The Development and Impact of British Administration in India (New Delhi: Indian Institute of Public Administration, no date, but about 1960), p. 5, lists these three reports as the soundest standard histories of the Service in that period.

5

6

B U R E A U C R A T S U N D E R STRESS

picture of a previous age that contemporary officers measure themselves and wonder if they are wanting. ORIGINS OF THE SERVICE IN THE EAST INDIA COMPANY

The ics was for more than two hundred years quite unlike the organization of faceless bureaucrats usually associated with civil services; it was the "Steel Frame of Empire," its members were "the men who ruled India," the stuff of which many myths are made. No single date can be given for the founding of the Indian Civil Service. As it has been said of the Indian segment of the Empire, it could be said as well of the ics that it was created in a "fit of absentmindedness." By and large, it began on the pattern established by the administrative system of the Moghul rulers, whom the British replaced in India. In the early days of the British East India Company, clerks, called civilians to distinguish them from the military arm of the Company, came to India to seek their fortunes, and as the Company expanded and prospered, those who survived often succeeded as well.7 They were paid poorly, but they were not expected to live on their salaries. Rather, they augmented their incomes by private initiative. Their methods included private trade dealings, maintenance of monopoly control of new products, collection of graft on taxes, and receipt of "gifts" from those with whom they did business. But as the Company grew and its members' responsibilities increased, their own interests frequently ran counter to the interests of the Company. In some cases, exactions on the local population led to war, as well as to serious financial deficits for the Company. One massacre of Company servants in Patna in 1763 "brought Bengal to the verge of ruin." 8 After this catastrophe, attempts were made to place limits on the rapacity of the Company's servants, so that by serving the Company well they would also serve themselves. Three men—Robert Clive, Warren Hastings, and Lord Cornwallis, all of whom were governors of the Company in the last half of the eighteenth century—are associated with attempts to 7

A. K. Ghosal, Civil Service in India Under the British East India pany (Calcutta: University of Calcutta, 1944). 8 O'Malley, op. ext., p. 18.

Com-

THE INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE

7

place the Company's representatives on a more solid footing.9 In fact, their reforms were so extensive and so thorough that the service they created maintained its essential structural character until about 1930. Many of its features can still be found today. Their efforts were the efforts of a central administration to control its representatives in the field. Since the agents were, at first, widely and thinly scattered over a country in which communications were poor, it was difficult to maintain discipline. Thus in 1765, during his second term as governor, Clive closed many of the far-flung regional trading posts, and brought his civilians back to the Calcutta and Madras bases of the Company. In 1773, the right of private trading for civil servants was abolished. At the same time, officers were no longer permitted to receive "gifts" from the "natives." To this day, the Indian Administrative Service Rules set a ceiling on the size of permissible gifts. It was also under Clive in 1766 that salaries were first raised. Clive, and subsequently Hastings and Cornwallis, argued that legislation outlawing potentially corrupt practices was, by itself, pointless. Salaries had to be increased to place young men above temptation. With parsimonious directors in London resisting every increase, the fight to raise salaries was long, difficult, and uneven, but ultimately successful. The high salary that insures a high standard of living has been a feature of government service in India ever since. The IAS began with similar arrangements, although these have been corroded somewhat with time and inflation.10 The reforms bore fruit. Almost immediately, there were numerous resignations from those who were disgusted because "their opportunities to get rich were quickly reduced." By 1840, one commentator in England, impressed by what he saw, announced, "There are far fewer sinecures in Bengal than there were in England; and no salary was paid for which some equivalent of work was not exacted." 11 Another important step in the early years of the Service, designed both to improve the competence of the civilians and to build a wall against corruption, was Lord Wellesley's creation, 9 Ibid., pp. 23-46. See below, Chapter VIII. n O'Malley, op. cit., p. 42.

8

B U R E A U C R A T S U N D E R STRESS

in 1800, of a special training school at Fort William, Calcutta.12 Practically abolished in 1835 by the Company's directors, it was later replaced, in England, with Haileybury College, founded to train and ultimately to help select the civilians. Haileybury created traditions and spirit, imbuing its graduates with ideals of honesty and performance. In addition, it created a group of old grads bound to each other and to the Service. The National Academy of Administration at Mussoorie fulfills a similar function today. THE LOCAL ADMINISTRATOR UNDER BRITISH RULE

Local administration under British rule was built around the position of the collector. Based on a system developed by the Moghul rulers, the post was created to give the civilians more power in overseeing the Empire. The English first utilized it in 1769. Abolished in 1773, it was finally reinstituted in 1781. By 1790, it had developed the essential form it was to maintain until the 1930s. Because of the nature of its responsibilities, the position was central to the structure of the ics, and a contributor to the status of the ics in India. It was to become the keystone of British rule and, perhaps more importantly, the symbol to the people both in India and in England of that rule. 13 The title itself came from one of the civilian's early responsibilities, the collection of land revenue. In the course of time, however, various other functions evolved as well. Some collectors were also district judges, administrators of the local police, and the chief representatives of the Crown in India. The collector presided over territories as large as 27,000 square miles, and populations as great as 3,000,000. These areas, called districts, are the administrative units below the province. One extended quote will suffice to illustrate the romantic picture of the life of the collector that is repeated over and over in the literature: The burden of administrative work in the districts is borne by the district officer, of whose position it is 12

Ibid., pp. 231-235. 13 Ibid., p. 160.

THE INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE

9

difficult to give an adequate conception to English readers. He is in charge of a district, i.e. an area averaging about 4,430 square miles, or four and a half times the size of an English administrative county, and he is both district magistrate and collector. As district magistrate, he is responsible for the maintenance of law and order, for the prevention of disorder as well as its suppression—one good test of an officer is his capacity for keeping things quiet—for the proper working both of the local police and the jails; both police and jail are under their officers, and the DM exercises only a general supervision over them. He has control over the administration of criminals by the subordinate magistracy, and he has appellate powers in minor cases and may himself try a case if it is of special importance or if there is any reason why the accused should not be tried by a subordinate magistrate. As collector, he is responsible for the collection of the land revenue and other revenues . . . and he has to a greater or less extent to supervise the work of the different executive departments of the civil government in his district. . . . Milton was once impelled by national pride to say that when God wishes to have some hard things done, he sends for His Englishmen. In India, it may more truly be said that when the government wants a hard bit of work done, it calls on the district officer. He is the man to whom falls all sorts of miscellaneous jobs, such as the taking of the census, preparing an electoral roll for his district, providing supplies for troops marching through it, etc. He may not only have to discharge the everyday duties of administration (many of them dull and uninteresting), but he also has to cope with sudden emergencies of extraordinary diversity. He may sometimes, when overburdened with work, grumble that he has the life of a dog, but he knows that he has the work of a man. Murderous riots sometimes break out with little warning and have to be suppressed by force, . . . a contingency of increasing frequency of late years. The relief of the distressed has to be organized in times of famine, which, on the contrary, are decreasing in frequency owing to the protection afforded by the spread of railways and canals; or disaster may come, sudden and terrible, in the shape of floods and cyclones, when

10

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

measures of relief have again to be organized; it has been said somewhat cynically that in times of disaster the people expect either God or the Government to come to their rescue.14 Both the myth and the real attractions of the job are caught in this passage. The collector has always been "boss" of his district, often living in the largest house in the area, and traveling about with a large entourage. And, as Philip Woodruff points out, whenever he had to come to a quick decision, he came to it, knowing that he would be backed up by his superiors.15 Power, the freedom to exercise it, the belief that one was doing important work, and a large variety of demanding tasks to command one's attention, were all components of what must be considered an attractive job. Not all of the ics officers worked in the districts. There were some who served as advisers to various Indian princes who still ruled their own states. Others served the Government of India directly, and still others served in the secretariats.16 In Orissa as late as 1943, the number of ranking ics officers in the capital of the state (then Cuttack) was six, including the Chief Secretary, the Revenue Commissioner, and four others.17 For most officers, there was something slightly decadent about being in one of the capitals. These men, who had a great deal of individual freedom and who were able to act when they wanted to, were impatient of secretariat rules and procedures, as front line troops are everywhere impatient of the bureaucrats who are behind the line.18 INDIANS AND THE SERVICE

Against this background, it is scarcely surprising that the Indian Civil Service held a fascination for the high-caste Indian youth educated in Western style. It offered one of very few alternatives for a respectable job with a good income, much power, and high status, since business was seldom a viable alternative « Ibid., p. 164. 15 Woodruff, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 75. ™Ibid., p. 363. 17 India Yearbook and Who's Who (Bombay: Times of India Press, 1943), p. 126. " O'Malley, op. cit., pp. 157-176; Woodruff, op. cit., Vol. II, pp. 281 ff.

THE INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE

11

for a young man from a "good family." As we shall see, until very recently, traditions built around caste, British attitudes, and the Indian socialist tradition all combined to make a business career an undesirable choice. One index of the status of the ics in the 1930s is the size of the dowry that an ics officer could command on marriage. As a general rule, the higher his status, and the greater a young man's career opportunities, the larger the dowry his family can extract from the family of a prospective bride. In an episode from K. Nagarajan's realistic novel, Chronicles of Kedaram, one character reports that it has become so expensive to marry a daughter to an ics officer that he is looking for appropriate young men who are planning to take the examination and who seem to have a good chance of passing. But even in the case of such risks, this wealthy man finds the dowry demands uncomfortably high.19 One of my interviewees, recognizing the status aspect, said that the ics was the best possible kind of career for a "nice middle class Brahmin boy." Nirad Chaudhuri, a perceptive observer of social customs in India, says that the best sons of the middle class always tried for government service, while the less desirable people went into politics or other occupations.20 The IAS inherited much of this appeal when it was formed in 1947. At first, however, it was not easy for an Indian to become a member of the Service. The opening of Service membership to Indians was one of the first concerns of the Indian National Congress. At its first meeting in 1885, it requested changes in Service recruitment procedures that would make Indian membership less difficult to achieve.21 Although, in principle, Indians could take and pass the competitive examination when it was instituted in 1853—this especially since Queen Victoria had said publicly that color was to be no bar to service—there were ways to keep the Indians out. First, the examinations had to be taken in London. This immediately restricted the number of Indians who might take it to those who could make the trip. Further, the age limits for taking 19 K. Nagarajan, Chronicles of Kedaram (Madras: Asia Publishing House, 1961), p. 61. 20 Nirad Chaudhuri, Autobiography of an Unknown Indian (New York: Macmillan, 1951), p. 251. 21 Woodruff, op. cit., Vol. II, p. 166.

12

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

the exam hovered between nineteen and twenty-two, making it difficult for a young Indian, inexperienced in English, to compete in the test with people taking it in their native language. However, a few Indians managed in the face of these obstacles to pass the examination and were admitted into the Service. In 1863 one passed, and in 1869, four passed at the same time. Two of these were later disqualified on a technicality, then reinstated. But finally one was dropped for "irregular behavior." Most commentators believe that this was a clear case of discrimination by the English.22 In 1879, there was a total of seven Indians in the Service. By 1909, sixty, or ten percent of the members, were Indians. That so many undertook the arduous task of passing into the Service gives some idea of its attractiveness.23 For it was only in 1922 that the examination was given simultaneously in England and in India. 24 Ironically, however, by the time the Service had been opened to Indians on a basis approximately equal to that of Englishmen, the very desirability of a career in the Service had come into question. By the 1930s, many Indian critics saw service to the colonial ruler as something akin to treason. But if this consideration raised feelings of ambivalence about the Service, it is not clear that it measurably diminished the attractiveness of a Service career. Old ics officers still recall those days fondly, seeing themselves as bridges between the English and their fellow countrymen. They were in important, if stressful, positions, and they saw themselves as contributing, in their way, to an independent India of the future. It is not clear what the objective situation of the Indian ics officer in the 1930s was; but that is less important for present purposes than the contemporary government officer's subjective view of that period. Such pictures have a way of becoming blurred by the passage of time, but the blurring tends to blot out some features and highlight others. Officials who remember the Service in the thirties clearly prefer to recall the glamorous aspects rather than the painful ones. A good illustration of this process of rosy recollection is provided by S. K. Chettur in a memoir called The Steel Frame and I: Life in the ICS, which 22 Ibid., pp. 169-170.

23 Ibid., p. 363.

24 O'Malley, op. cit., p. 223.

THE INDIAN CIVIL SERVICE

13

was a rather popular book among the IAS officers in Bhubaneswar at the time of my study.23 Chettur joined the service in 1929 and his memoir covers, in anecdotal form, the succeeding thirty-two years. A major theme of the book concerns the pleasures of working with wise and witty, if somewhat eccentric, Englishmen. Chettur's first chief, one Sir John Thorne, was such a person; Chettur reports that he "was extremely kind and good to me. He took me out touring with him for nearly a fortnight. . . . I had the opportunity of watching a senior collector's life at close quarters and of trying to model myself on his fine example." 26 Thorne had a rigid program. Awakening at 6 A.M., he began a daily half-hour of birdwatching at 7:30. Work in his office began at 8:30 and continued until 1 P.M., followed by lunch and a nap. A few more hours of office work in the afternoon, tea at 4 P.M., some local inspection, and an evening of reading by the light from a petromax lantern completed the day. The senior collector and his subordinate also found time for a great deal of swimming, some snipe shooting and the writing of poetry. Thorne was also "anxious to teach me the correct forms of etiquette as between service men," Chettur reports. For example, although Thorne called one of his superiors "sir" ordinarily, he would address the same man familiarly during meals, "indicating that in the social set up at meals, every ics man was as good as another." 27 Indian nationalist sentiment did sometimes intrude into this idyll, but when it did, Chettur acquitted himself well. On one occasion, there was to be a public demonstration in response to the sudden arrest of Mahatma Gandhi. The police were all for breaking up the crowd, firing on it if necessary to do so. However, Chettur persuaded the crowd to hold an orderly meeting in a public area designated for that purpose. The leaders had an opportunity to voice their protests, and all went smoothly with a minimum of disruption. Here Chettur presents the picture of the Indian enforcing English regulations, but mitigating their harshness at the same time. Chettur also devotes a chapter to "the ics at play." He re25 S. K. Chettur, The Steel Frame and I: Life in the ICS (Bombay: Asia Publishing House, 1962). 26 Ibid., p. 2. «Ibid., p. 9.

14

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

ports on hockey games, golf and tennis, and, most importantly, big game hunting, which was popular indeed. Tiger, panther, and bear hunts were all pursued by officers.28 An occasional man-eating tiger gave the collector an opportunity to demonstrate his skill at hunting as well as his bravery, and to perform a public service in addition. Numerous picnics and swimming parties rounded out the wealth of leisure activities available to this group of officials. Finally, Chettur devotes some space to the problem of the superiority complex ics officers were alleged to have had. He begins this section by explaining that, after all, ics officers were important people who did important work. In what is almost an echo of O'Malley, he reports: "If he was Collector of a district, it was his business to see not only that the land revenue and the other taxes were correctly collected and accounted for, but that law and order through the district was maintained. . . . He virtually ruled the district." 29 He concludes by pointing out that officers in the Service continue to do a good job in free India as well. Perhaps too much can be made of one man's pleasant recollections. But the recollections are strikingly consistent with the pictures presented by Woodruff, Blunt, and O'Malley. And, as we shall see, they are representative of the way contemporary officials look at the past. They may be responding to a past which, in fact, was not so engagingly colored by aristocratic manners and leisure time activities, or with such unbridled power. But as W. I. Thomas pointed out some time ago, things perceived as real by participants have real consequences for their behavior. This, then, provides a rough sketch of the ics as seen by its official historians and by a large number of Indians and Englishmen today. It was an organization of stable traditions, exciting work, and high status. And, for Indians, it also represented an important source of power. It was on this model that the Indian Administrative Service was built in 1947. 28 Ibid; p. 97. 29

Ibid., p. 123.

Chapter The

Hl

Study

THE SETTING

In some ways, Bhubaneswar and its setting help to emphasize the problems civil officers face and the possibilities that lie ahead of them. Bhubaneswar is the capital of Orissa, one of India's poorest and most backward states. Orissa ranks near the bottom in education, industrial production, urbanization, rice yield per acre (although it is the major supplier of rice for the people of Calcutta to the north), miles of road and railroad, and per capita income.1 Yet, it has economic potential. Orissa's deltaic coastal region has rich alluvial soil; inland, there are mineral deposits of iron, coal, chromite, manganese, limestone, and perhaps bauxite.2 The state was created only in 1936. Until then, it had been a territory administered jointly with Bengal and Bihar.3 Oriya-speaking people claim that the English favored the Bengalis and Biharis by giving them the bulk of development and administrative funds. In addition, the Oriya areas were exploited by their more powerful, better educated neighbors. Bhubaneswar itself, in 1961 a town of more than 40,000 people, reflects both the state's past and its potential.4 It is divided into two parts, called Old Town and New Capital by the inhabitants. The Old Town is the site of an important Hindu temple and numerous other shrines constructed between the 1 Techno-Economic Survey of Orissa (New Delhi: National Council of Applied Economic Research, 1962), pp. 4, 7, 118, 196, 202. Also see Hindustan Year Book (Calcutta: M. C. Sarkar & Sons, 1964), p. 139. 2 Ibid., p. 52. 3 State of Orissa Department of Public Relations, Visit Orissa (Cuttack: Orissa Government Printing Office, 1958), p. 30. * Census of India, 1951 (New Delhi: Government of India, 1951).

15

16

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

sixth and fifteenth centuries.5 The main temple, Lingaraj, dates from the twelfth century. Together with its large pond, or tank, it dominates the Old Town, and can be seen from as much as six to seven miles away. At closer range, smaller and more gracefully carved temples and narrow winding streets come into view. Small mud houses hug the earth; most of their inhabitants in the past drew sustenance from the temples and from the surrounding rice lands. Not all of the buildings are small or of mud; there are stone buildings, some three and four stories high, that have housed pilgrims to the temple, some of which now serve as apartment houses. Yet the visitor comes away with the impression of a large and overpowering temple surrounded by small houses and small shops. West of the railroad tracks is New Capital, whose construction began in 1947.6 Until then, Cuttack, twenty miles north and Orissa's largest city, had been the capital. However, it was squeezed between two branches of the Mahanadi river, and had become severely crowded. A new capital was sought, and after much controversy, Bhubaneswar, the seat of an ancient Oriya kingdom, was selected. Bhubaneswar, New Capital, then, is a new city. Its wide, well-paved roads, neatly laid out at right angles to each other, form blocks, or Units, that subdivide the city. The houses, owned predominandy by the government, are made of brick covered with stucco. As the temple is the visual focus of Old Town, so government buildings are the focus in New Capital. At the center of town, and on one of the highest points, stand the Secretariat, the Assembly, and the Accountant General's Office. The Secretariat offices house the clerical staff for the state, and the Assembly houses the state legislature. The Accountant General's Office is the financial branch of the central government, located in the capital to audit the state's books, and to disburse and collect national monies. Off to one side, but at a higher point still, stands the governor's house, which is also his office. The governor is a ceremonial head of state appointed from New Delhi; his lot is traditionally the laying of cornerstones and the cutting of ribbons, and his 5 K. C. Panigrahi, Archaeological Remains at Bhubaneswar (Calcutta: Orient Longmans, 1961), pp. 146-176. 6 Otto H. Koenigsberger, "New Towns in India," Town Planning Review, July 1952, p. 114.

THE STUDY

17

activities are surrounded with all the pomp and circumstance that the British once used to impress the "natives" in various parts of the Empire. His post is a relic of those days, and his house high up on the hill is now a symbol of national government rather than of empire. Since most of the houses in Bhubaneswar were built by the government, they display a quality of well-ordered sameness. Architecture varies with construction period, as government architects have come and gone, but the houses of any given period and category are alike. All of them are classified by the government, and employees are allotted houses according to their official status. The houses are classed from Type viii through Type I, with Type VIII the largest and the highest status, and Type i the smallest and the lowest. The Type vni's, vii's, and vi's all line the main roads, their lawns well manicured by government gardeners. In 1962, Type v's and iv's lined the lesser main roads; and the lowest types filled the narrower and more poorly paved streets that connect the lesser main roads. A Type VIII house has about eight rooms, and a Type i has one room. A secretary to government or a minister lives in a Type VIII; a sweeper or an errand boy (peon) lives in a Type i. Government office hours are from 10:00 A.M. until 4:30 P.M., with an unofficial hour off for lunch. At 9:45, the streets begin to fill with people on their way to work and with people who have come to do business with the government. They display a wide range of conveyance and dress. Some walk; some ride bicycles, motor scooters, or motorcycles; some come by bicycle rickshaw; many come by bus from Cuttack, for the government has not yet provided enough quarters for all its personnel; and some travel by car or by government jeep. Dress varies too. There is the government-issued khaki shorts and bush jacket of the sweepers; the government-issued homespun white for the messengers; the traditional dhoti for politicians and villagers; the high-necked achkan made popular by Prime Minister Nehru; white slacks and bush shirts; and finally, the black frock coats and frilled cravats worn by the high court judges. It was into a Type vi house on one of the wide roads leading up to the Secretariat that my wife and I moved in September

18

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

1962. I had come to do a study of local elites, exploring some of the theories of the school from Mosca7 and Michels8 to Lasswell.9 But it quickly came to my attention that in this town, there was one elite that was far more visible than others. Its members were the high-ranking civil servants, who filled the offices in the Secretariat, who almost monopolized the Type VIII and Type vn houses, and who drove most of the cars in the city. Their visibility in the New Capital, and the size and scope of their responsibilities, led me to focus my research on them. By suggesting that these government officers formed an elite, I am not endowing them with any special mystical qualities; I am not even suggesting that it is desirable to be a member of this particular elite. Rather, I am simply calling groups in the community that have been granted the highest status by their society, modern (as opposed to traditional) elites. A big house and a big car do not make a man good, but they are or can be symbols of his status in the community. I emphasize this because it was a continued source of concern to many people I met in India. The "real elite," they would tell me, was in the villages, or in New Delhi, or in the religious monasteries. Why did I not go there instead? Doubtless there are men of outstanding intellect, integrity, skill, or holiness elsewhere in India. But it is also true that the responsibility for India's future lies more closely, at present, with those who staff its secretariats. THE PROBLEM

What I wanted to learn about the officers of the Indian Administrative Service, and why, follows. First, I wanted to know their attitudes toward their work and the community in which they worked. In the period since India's independence, the IAS has increased its responsibilities and at the same time changed its status within the community. The officials' response to these changes becomes essential to understanding the quality of their performance. As Max Weber has pointed out, members of a ? Gaetano Mosca, The Ruling Class (New York: McGraw-Hill, 1939). Roberto Michels, Political Parties (New York: Collier Books, 1962). 9 Harold Lasswell and Abraham Kaplan, Power and Society (New Haven: Yale University Press, 1950). 8

THE STUDY

19

bureaucracy must have a high level of esprit de corps if they are to perform their jobs well.10 Where responsibilities are heavy, where the work load calls for overtime, and where direct supervision is difficult, morale is probably crucial for understanding the quality of their work. Second, because of my interest in elites, I wanted to know if the members of the IAS formed a cohesive social group. Toward this end, I wanted to learn, first, how similar their backgrounds were; second, what their social relations with each other were; and finally, to what extent they shared attitudes. To get at this information, I used two approaches: I devised a questionnaire (see Appendix A), and I became a participant observer (although I'm afraid that, much as William Whyte suggests, I started out as an observing non-participant, and moved toward becoming a non-observing participant 11 ). Both of these approaches were interrelated. Before I could devise a satisfactory questionnaire or have the access to administer it, I had to become a fully participating member of the social community. There were several reasons for this. First, people in India are not accustomed to the kind of research in which I was engaged. They found it difficult to believe that someone could have sent me so many miles simply to make such a study. Some thought I was an agent for the CIA.

Second, before I could ask intelligent questions, I had to know something about the matters considered important by the people I would be questioning. This meant immersing myself in local culture, reading translations of the local newspapers, and learning something of the local political history by reading old newspapers and asking questions. There were no archives for this purpose; fortunately, a local friend allowed me to see his clippings, which covered a period from 1935 to the present. Third, and related to the second, I found I had to demonstrate that I was something of an insider before I received accurate and honest responses to my questions. At first, people tended to brush questions off with "party line" answers, and it was only Hans Gerth and C. Wright Mills, From Max Weber (New York: Oxford University Press, 1958), p. 88. 11 William F. Whyte, Street Corner Society (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1955), p. 321.

20

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

when I was able to indicate that I knew something about what was taking place that the answers became deeper, more complex, and, I think, more accurate. Finally, I had to learn the system well enough to learn whom it was that I wanted to interview. All of this preliminary work required approximately six months. Matters were somewhat complicated by the Sino-Indian skirmish late in 1962, when people were more uneasy than usual. However, the quick American response to this emergency, in military and financial aid, created an aura of goodwill that ultimately made my work easier. Much could be said about the problems of studying people in another society who are highly literate, intelligent, sensitive, and of higher status in their own society than the student is in his. This is not the place for a detailed discussion, but a few illustrations will suffice to show the difficulties one can fall into. I was very much interested in the split that seemed to have developed in the community between the Oriya-speaking people and those assigned to Orissa from outside the state. I once asked an acquaintance, a non-Oriya, if he knew any of the local people well. "Of course," he answered. A few weeks later he paid a call, bringing a local person with him. "Do you remember that you once asked me if I were friendly with any of the local people?" he asked. "Here is one of my good friends." As the evening progressed, it became painfully evident that the guest was barely an acquaintance, and hardly a "good friend." The implications of this were clear. I never knew with certainty when I was pushing a respondent into a form of behavior he thought I wanted. In such a setting, I was entirely dependent on the goodwill of the people being interviewed. Sometimes, however, it was hard to know how to go about gaining that goodwill. In a small community, with its shifting friendships and social cliques, where good manners are defined differently than they are in one's home, one must be extraordinarily careful not to offend, or to become too closely associated with some faction. For example, early in our stay in Bhubaneswar, my wife and I met an officer at a party. "Why don't you drop by and visit some evening," he suggested. We understood the invitation to be what an American would almost certainly mean by it: a polite

T H E STUDY

21

form. Only later did we learn that he meant something quite different. He really had expected us to call, and our failure to visit was mildly offensive behavior. Fortunately, we learned this before we had put too many people off by not visiting; and our obvious good will and intentions carried us over that set of gaffes. However, a kind of leverage evolved that served me well. People in Bhubaneswar knew I was there to learn about the elite. Therefore, the interview itself became a means of conferring elite status. In a small, personalized community, this was a potent tool. I realized just how potent when, after living in Bhubaneswar for about a year, I was attending an official dinner and met another guest who was from out of town. "I don't believe we have met," he said. At that point, one of the highestranking members of the community interrupted. "If you lived here," he said with gentle irony, "and had not yet met Mr. Taub, you would be rather worried about your position by now." This subtle kind of influence did help me to get appointments for interviews that I might not have obtained otherwise. SELECTION OF RESPONDENTS

The Orissa Civil List, published semiannually, records the name of every officeholder in the state above a certain level.12 The Service listing is made according to seniority, and the department listing according to position or title. To know who the topranking officers were, I had only to read them off the list. And this is what I did. Because I was interested only in those in Bhubaneswar, I compared the list with a Bhubaneswar directory, and when a name appeared on both lists, I included it in the sample. There were, in addition, some high-ranking civil servants who were not in the IAS, and to provide thorough coverage, I included them as well. Ultimately, I was able to interview every officer posted to Orissa and living in Bhubaneswar, with one exception, from the level of Chief Secretary down through the level of Joint Secretary. These included twenty-three IAS officers, two Indian Civil Service (ics) officers, three Indian Audits and Accounts Ser12

Orissa Civil List semi-annually.

(Cuttack: Orissa Government Press), published

22

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

vice (IA and AS) officers (Central Government), two members of the Orissa Administrative Service (OAS), two members of the Orissa State Judicial Service (OSJS), and two high-level men who worked for the government but were not connected with any service. Because the Indian Administrative Service, the Indian Civil Service, and the Indian Audits and Accounts Service all made their selections on a similar basis, and because the men were alike in many social characteristics, I have treated this group as if it were all IAS, in order to provide myself with a larger group of respondents. Hereafter, I shall refer to this group as "the IAS respondents." Likewise, I have pooled the OAS, OSJS, and nonservice government bureaucrats, because of their similarities on many dimensions, and because of the small size of each of the three groups taken by itself. I shall refer to this pooled group as "the OAS respondents." I also wanted other groups against which to compare the two groups of bureaucrats. Because I had originally conceived the project as a study of elites, I sought other people in the community who might be considered elite. I divided the community analytically into five occupational hierarchies: political, administrative, educational, business, and religious. By the time I had completed my work, I was able to interview extensively among politicians and educators as well as among the administrators. I had somewhat more difficulty with businessmen, as I shall discuss below. Later, I added a group of government engineers, at the same time dropping the religious leaders. At first, I had planned to have self-nominating panels select the members of the other categories. That is, using a technique similar to the Hunter reputational method, I would ask each person interviewed to name the ten most important people in each occupational category.13 However, when I began to do this, I discovered that no person could produce ten names of members of a group to which he himself did not belong; in fact, the members of each category were practically invisible to the members of every other. Faced with this situation, I turned to more formal criteria in my selection process, although I continued to ask the reputational question as well. 13 Floyd Hunter, Community Power Structure (New York: DoubledayAnchor, 1963), pp. 61-105.

THE STUDY

23

For example, I selected the politicians in much the same way that I had selected the IAS officers. In this case, I began by interviewing all seven ministers of government. In my questionnaire, I asked: "Can you name the most powerful politicians in Bhubaneswar; those who are most able to get things done?" The two names that were given most frequently, in addition to those of the ministers, were the Leader of the Opposition and the leader of a dissident group within the ruling Congress Party. I included these two men in the sample as well. And finally, I added an articulate member of the Socialist Party, who was named frequently as an up-and-coming politician. For educators, I turned to the two universities in town, one a state university with graduate programs in arts and sciences only; and the other an agricultural university modeled along the lines of an American land grant college. The latter was a new institution and was still undergoing growing pains. I chose the Vice-Chancellor (equivalent to an American university president) and five professors from the regular university, and the President and Vice-President of the agricultural university. I also added another prominent educator who was outside of this hierarchy, for he seemed to me to be quite powerful although not part of the university system. He was the only educator who lived in a Type vm house. He was a servant of the central government, and had been hand-picked by a central government minister; and, he clearly commanded respect. Moreover, in only eighteen months at his job, using only resources available within the state, he had shown some remarkable accomplishments. All of the people I interviewed in the educator category were named at least once in the reputational question described above. Actually, only the Vice-Chancellor of the arts-andsciences university was named with any frequency. He was named fifty-four times out of sixty-eight interviews, or more than twice as often as the next most frequently named, a man who did not live or work in Bhubaneswar. In fact, many respondents were quite insistent that only the Vice-Chancellor was worth considering in this regard. The selection of businessmen was a more difficult matter. For unlike politicians, administrators, and educators, they are not associated with particular institutional positions. Further, Bhubaneswar is clearly an administrative town, and few large

24

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

businesses had chosen to locate there by the time of my study. Therefore, I had to rely on the reputational question, "Can you name the wealthiest and most influential businessmen in the Bhubaneswar area?" And here I encountered difficulties. As we shall see later, businessmen are not always held in high esteem. For this reason, many respondents balked at providing names. Some would insist that they could only name the wealthiest; they didn't know anything about influence. Others would quibble about how one could determine wealth. Some were simply unable to answer the question. The problem was more difficult for me because the Chief Minister was widely believed to be the wealthiest man in the state. He was a major industrialist, owning most of the heavy industries within the state, and an airline and a newsweekly magazine outside of it. One frequent answer was, "Next to the Chief Minister the rest are pygmies." However, with insistent probing, other names were sometimes provided, and independent observations helped to confirm that the four men most frequently named belonged in the category of wealthiest businessmen. There are several who may have been omitted, but of that I cannot be certain. All four were men whose fortunes were clearly tied to the development of the New Capital. Three of them had businesses closely associated with construction, and the fourth was a hotel owner, restaurateur, and caterer. I was able to interview three of them. The fourth, a financial supporter of the ousted Congress faction, avoided the interview. Chief engineers of government were the last group of people I decided to interview, and I made the decision to do so at the eleventh hour. As we shall see, many people in the community consider engineering and technocracy to represent the wave of the future. Further, much to my surprise, I discovered that although nobody had mentioned engineers as high status people, their salary scale was similar to that for the IAS, and some were earning even more than their IAS counterparts. They were, therefore, people of interest to me. There were twelve men with the title of chief engineer in Bhubaneswar, and I was able to interview eleven of them personally. The twelfth was ill and could not be interviewed; however, his wife provided some background data.

THE STUDY

25

I had originally planned to interview important religious figures in the community as well. Since Bhubaneswar was an important and ancient religious center, and because I misunderstood the nature of religion in India, I thought that any such people might be considered part of an elite group. However, almost no one could name any individual in that category. In time it became clear that although there were many holy men in town, there were no religious leaders per se, so I did not pursue the matter. The total number of respondents was 68. An occupational breakdown is given in Table 1. TABLE

1

Number of Respondents In Each Occupational Category Occupational Category IAS Respondents Indian Administrative Service Indian Civil Service Indian Audits and Accounts Service OAS Respondents Orissa Administrative Service Orissa State ludicial Service Government Bureaucrats (no service)

Number of Respondents 28 23 2 3 28 6 2 2 2 6

Politicians Businessmen Academics Engineers

10 3 9 12

TOTAL

68

ARRANGING THE

INTERVIEW

I interviewed first people whom I already knew. Since these people knew why I had come to Bhubaneswar, elaborate explanations were unnecessary. I usually approached them about

26

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

the interview during a social occasion, and they all readily consented. Approximately thirty interviews were arranged in that fashion. Making dates with others whom I had not met was somewhat more difficult. Often, a mutual acquaintance intervened and helped to set up the appointment. But more usually, dates were set up through correspondence. When writing to make appointments, I used a standard letter (see Appendix B) to explain briefly who I was, why I was in Bhubaneswar, and the purpose of my research. Included in each letter was a list of people I had already interviewed. The list served three purposes: first, it told the potential respondent that he was not being singled out; second, it provided him with the names of people who might describe the content of the interview and verify my credentials; and third, he could assure himself that he had been classified among a group of very important people. Because I had brought effective letters of introduction with me to Bhubaneswar, the list of those already interviewed looked like a Who's Who of Bhubaneswar from the beginning.14 In fact, as word about whom I was interviewing got around, some potential respondents expressed concern that they had not yet been interviewed. About half of the letters were answered. I pursued those who did not answer with some combination of three different approaches: I visited them at their offices, reminded them of the letter, and made appointments; I wrote a second letter; and I persuaded mutual acquaintances to intercede for me. These methods were successful. Among administrators, political leaders, and engineers, I failed to interview only one member of my original sample. This official was cordial at all times, and in informal conversation volunteered much valuable information. But whenever I raised the possibility of interviewing him, he would suggest that I return at another time to "fix up a date." We never did make that date. One businessman also used delaying tactics to avoid the interview, and managed to delay until I had to leave town. One professor initially refused to be interviewed. I did not press the matter, and toward the end of my stay, he came to visit and requested that he be interviewed. 14 Professor DuBois was kind enough to provide letters of introduction to a number of key officials.

THE STUDY

27

THE INTERVIEW ITSELF

The interview lasted anywhere from one half to three hours, and most commonly took place either in the respondent's quarters or my own. I requested privacy for the interviews as a way of insuring confidentiality for my respondents. Most interviews were held without spectators. But on some occasions, if the interview were at the respondent's house, his whole family might be present, and in those cases, my visit would also serve as a social occasion. A few interviews were held at people's offices before or after office hours. For those with large extended families at home, this was necessary if there was to be any privacy. All of the interviews were conducted in English. One of the businessmen knew very little English and he asked a friend to serve as translator. I had not known in advance that he would do this, but the arrangements could not have been better if I had. His friend was an excellent translator, patiently and faithfully reproducing the respondent's answers in full, and not shortening them to "he says yes" or "he says no." I do know some Oriya, and it was my impression that communication was good. The interviews themselves were usually relaxed and friendly, with the respondent making a genuine effort to be informative. There were a few exceptions, however. One official cheerfully agreed to be interviewed, and told me to come any day to his daily public audience (durbar). When I went to see him, I found a group consisting of his political cronies, dissatisfied aspirants to government positions, students seeking funds to continue their educations, and other visitors and suppliants there before me. They simply made room for me and watched in astonishment while I asked questions. The interview was hardly successful; the official answered all the questions by making political speeches (that were, I suspect, enjoyed by everyone in the room but m e ) . Two respondents adopted a wary, legalistic attitude. One of them characterized the experience of being interviewed by me thus: I hope that I have been honest, and told you what I thought. But all the time during the interview, I had the

28

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

subconscious feeling that I was pitting my wits against yours; that I had to use all my skill to avoid letting you drag out of me something which I didn't want to tell you. I would say that I was honest, but that there is much I didn't tell you. Fortunately, that attitude was rare. There was also one interview in which the respondent suddenly burst in with, "What are you writing down? Are you saying, 'That chap is a terrible egotistical bore; he is bragging something terrible'?" On the other hand, one of the most informative respondents concluded by saying that the interview was something like what he expected psychoanalysis was. "I feel all wrung out, but exhilarated," he said. Other respondents did not understand the point of the interview and were bored, and still others—fortunately, most—were genuinely interested. In short, my respondents behaved very much the way a sample of well educated, moderately high-status Americans have behaved in other interviews I have conducted. Their behavior was tinged with greater cordiality, but then, I was a foreign guest in their country.

Chapter

IV

The Indian Administrative Service: The Structure of the Organization

The u s inherited from the ics both its structure and its prestige. However, the major focus of responsibility has changed, as well as the style of work. In this chapter, I shall examine how the Service is organized, its responsibilities, and the new style of work. BECOMING A MEMBER

As was true for the ics, admission to the Service is based primarily on the results of a highly competitive examination. In 1960, 11,000 college graduates took the examination to fill one hundred places. Any Indian citizen between the ages of twentyone and twenty-four, in good health, who holds a degree from an approved college or university, is eligible for the examination. Women, however, may compete only if they are unmarried. If a woman marries subsequent to entering the Service, she may be dismissed if the Union Public Service Commission feels she is no longer able to carry out her duties to the Service. Members of the Scheduled tribes and castes, the most underprivileged group in the society, are excepted from some of the rules.1 There are three required subjects on the examination, and, in addition, the candidate must be approved by an interviewing board. Until 1956, failure in the interview, or personality test as it is called by officers, was adequate cause for refusal of admission into the Service, regardless of the candidate's performance on the written examination. However, at present, each part of the examination, including the interview, is given a numerical 1

Handbook of Rules and Regulations for the All-India Services (Delhi: Government of India Printing Office, 1962), Vol. I, pp. 12-20.

29

30

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

value. The results of all the parts are then combined. Hence, a candidate who performs brilliantly on the written examination may compensate for poor performance in the interview.2 The qualities evaluated in the personal interview seem as ambiguous for the IAS as they do in most American interviews. It was generally agreed among informants that pleasant manners, facility in English, an attractive appearance and dress (preferably English style), and an authoritative manner are some of the qualities interviewers seek. The three required examinations are in General Knowledge, English, and English Essay. A candidate must also know Hindi. Candidates may take the examination in Hindi (still passing the compulsory English parts of the examination), but as of 1964 most candidates still were taking it in English. The General Knowledge portion of the examination is a threehour test calling for a wide range of collected facts. The 1962 examination, for example, included such questions as: What did Gandhiji mean by Satyagraha? How do you distinguish it from passive resistance? Identify the following: Venus de Milo, Mona Lisa, the Thinker, William Faulkner, Corbusier, Karen Hantze Susman, Major Gherman Titov, Ravi Shankar, Disneyland. Name the authors of any six of the following: The Republic, Gita Govinda, Principia, The Adventures of Tom Sawyer, Faust, The Apple Cart, The Decline of the West, The Old Man and the Sea, Jai Somnath. What is thyroid and what are its functions? How does milk turn into curds? The English essay is also a three-hour examination. In 1962, one could write on such varied topics as: Problems of Indian Defense, This Age of Anxiety, Prospects of Parliamentary Democracy in Afro-Asian Countries, Nursery Rhymes. Finally, the English examination requires the writing of a précis, and answers to questions on poetry, grammar, and idiom. The additional five examinations correspond to various subject matter 2 Naresh Chandra Roy, The Civil Service in India (Calcutta: Firma K.L. Mukhopadhyay, 1958), p. 225.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

31

categories in the different accredited universities: philosophy, history, and so forth. 3 In addition to the usual methods of study, candidates preparing for this examination have several supplementary sources available, IAS examination "cram" books and "How to Pass" books, similar to the American How to Pass the College Boards, are widely available.4 Some candidates try to pick up scraps of information wherever they can. One informant reported that he and his friends used to memorize titles of new books and their authors in bookstore windows. Other aspirants take special courses with tutors whose advertisements announce that they have "a proud record" of students who have passed the exam. In short, young Indians do pretty much what young high school students in America do to prepare for the College Board Examinations. Both sets of examinations mean a lot to the young people taking them. In India, they may mean the difference between affluence and poverty. Although passing the examination is the primary route to membership in the IAS, there are and have been two other ways in which members can be recruited into the Service. The first is by what is called special, or emergency, recruitments. The first emergency recruitment coincided with Independence. By 1947, about half of the 1,157 members of the ics were Indian. With the departure of the British, the number of Indian members had to be doubled to keep the Service up to full strength. Because it would have been impossible to fill all the vacancies by standard procedures, the Union Public Service Commission announced that it would consider applications from people between the ages of twenty-one and forty-five. If they had good career records, they were interviewed. Those who passed the interview became members of the Service, without taking the written examination. The bulk of these men came from other branches of government service, although a wide range of occupations in private life was represented as well.6 In Orissa, at the time of the 3 Varma's Guide to IAS Examination, Compulsory Papers 1958 to 1962 Solved (New Delhi: Varma Brothers, 1963). 4 Two examples of such books are Varma's Guide and Dr. K. B. Bhatnagar's Bhatnagar's Guide to the IAS Examination (Delhi: Malhotra Brothers, 1963). 5 Roy, op. cit., p. 223.

32

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

study, twenty-one of the one hundred and four officers posted to the state were in this category. There is a second alternative route to membership in the IAS, and that is by promotion. Each state has its own set of government services, modeled on but subordinate to the all-India services. In Orissa, these include the Orissa Administrative Service (OAS), the Orissa Secretariat Service, the Orissa Finance Service, and others. Membership in these groups is achieved largely by competitive examination. After a minimum of eight years of service, qualified members of the state services may then become eligible for promotion into the all-India service ranks. The IAS Rules, in fact, specify that twenty percent of the officers in each state must have been promoted up through the state services.6 The list of eligible state officers is made up by a committee of superior officers, among whom in Orissa are the highest ranking officers of the state: the Chief Secretary; the Member, Board of Revenue; and the three Revenue Divisional Commissioners. Promotions are then made by representatives of the Union Public Service Commission (UPSC) in consultation with the special state committee. In practice, this means that the state committee is primarily responsible for promotions, since there is no way that the UPSC can know the people involved. However, a perusal of the individuals' records is made to assure that there is no collusion. In Orissa, at the time of the study, thirty-four men of the Orissa IAS cadre had been promoted up from the state service. All new recruits spend one year at the National Academy of Administration in Mussoorie, about ninety miles north of Delhi. During this period, the probationers study such subjects as: Constitution of India, Five Year Plans, Indian Criminal Law and the Penal Code, Administrative History of India; plus general principles of economics, public administration and government organization, and Hindi and a regional language. Guest speakers are brought to the school to give lectures on special subjects, and trainees make a three-month tour of India's major cities and monuments, so that they will not be parochial.7 6 Handbook of Rules, pp. 21-28. 7 Roy, op. cit., p. 236; and S. P. Jagota in Braibanti and Spengler, op. cit., p. 87.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

33

The year at Mussoorie also helps create a spirit of camaraderie that is carried through life. As one informant put it: I can go anywhere in India and put up [i.e. stay] with a batch mate [i.e. someone who became a member of the Service the same year]. He may not even belong to the same state. This was unheard of in the old India. [Then] you only stayed with relatives [or possibly with] someone from your village or area. After the year of training, the candidates are assigned to the states. In the states, they again face a training period. In Orissa, this means another year at a school; in some other states, training still begins "on the job," with the new officer serving as an assistant collector. The assignment of officers to the states is a complex matter, since it is a means not only for providing necessary bureaucratic skills, but is also a vehicle for what the Indians call national integration. India is composed of such diverse linguistic and cultural groups that it appears at times in danger of disintegration. The assignment of officers is one of the steps taken by the central government to emphasize unity. Every officer is assigned to a state cadre, for technically there is no central government branch of the Service, although there is such a de facto cadre. If an officer should be transferred to New Delhi, he is still a member of the state cadre, "on assignment to the Centre." By law, no more than fifty percent of any batch recruited from a given state is permitted to serve in that state. Madras, West Bengal, and the Punjab have provided the largest number of IAS officers since 1947 (see Appendix C), and if all officers were permitted to return to their home states, states such as Orissa would have almost no administrators. Thus the Orissa state cadre, one hundred and four men in all, contains Bengalis, Madrasis, Punjabis, Maharastrians, and Telugus, as well as Oriyas, most of them in proportion to their representation in the entire Service. Generally speaking, the top-ranking fifty percent of any state group passing the examination will be chosen to remain in their own state, and the other half will be assigned elsewhere. Individuals may volunteer for assignment to other states, but, in practice, they rarely do. Moving away from one's home state is, as we shall see, viewed as something of a hardship. It may involve learning a new language and many other

34

B U R E A U C R A T S U N D E R STRESS

elements of what may be essentially a new culture. Equally important, it means separation from one's family, and in India, the family still plays an important role in the life of most people. With assignment to a state cadre, the officer, if he is a foreigner,8 is required to learn the local language. In Orissa, enforcement of this regulation has been uneven. For this reason, an officer's first assignments frequently have helped to determine his skill in the language. Those assigned to the more remote districts, especially, were often compelled to pick up the language more quickly if they were to perform their jobs competently. On the other hand, some of the older officers were posted almost immediately to the Secretariat, where English and perhaps some Hindi are the principal languages of business, and where Oriya is largely unnecessary. In the Secretariat, Oriya is ordinarily used by an officer only to impress a minister or legislator whose English is uncertain. Periodic attempts to press officers to improve their skills in the local language have had mixed results. Some of the older officers, no matter how hard they tried, found themselves too old to learn a new language. Many officers learned the language well enough to pass the test, in much the same way that American graduate students usually learn the required foreign language for the Ph.D. Only a few learned it well. Informants reported that only two or three foreigners were really fluent, and would use the language spontaneously. In addition, it is alleged that there are a few among the older officers who can speak the language and understand it far better than they pretend; their difficulties with the language may also reflect a set of complex attitudes toward the local culture, reminiscent of the attitudes of other foreigners at other times. By 1962, however, the examination in Oriya for new recruits had become more difficult, and the requirement that one be fluent began to be more strictly enforced. CAREER PATTERNS

Once a young IAS officer has passed the examination, taken his training, and learned the local language, he is ready to begin his 8

I shall use the term "foreigner" to refer to any Indian who belongs to a linguistic or cultural group other than that of Orissa.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

35

career. To the outsider, this career seems to require much mobility. In his first fifteen years, an officer is likely to hold a dozen positions. As he moves upward in the hierarchy, however, he is liable to stay longer in some of them. Here is the list of assignments of a regular recruit who entered the Service in 1948, at the age of twenty-two. (See Appendix D for more sample patterns.) Attached to Home Department, 14th August 1950 Assistant Collector, Cuttack, Orissa, September 1950 Assistant Collector, Berhampur, Orissa, October 1950 Assistant Collector, Sambalpur, Orissa, November 1950 Assistant Collector, Koraput, Orissa, March 1951 Sub-Divisional Officer, July 1951 Under-Secretary, Supply Department, May 1953 Deputy Director of Food Supplies, December 1953 Collector, Boudh, Orissa, May 1957 Collector, Keonjhar, Orissa, May 1957 Director of Industries, May 1958 Secretary of Education and Home, October 19619 He served in this last department through 1964. In the future, he may serve as secretary in two other departments for a term of three to four years each. After that, he might serve a fouryear term as Revenue Divisional Commissioner. From there, he might become Development Commissioner or Commissioner for Community Self-Government (Panchayati Raj); he then would be in line for the post of Chief Secretary, where he might serve until retirement. The list of appointments illustrates the frequent changes of position that an officer must make. This man has held positions in seven of the state's thirteen districts, including the northernmost and the southernmost. The earliest posts follow the traditional training pattern; that is, he serves as an assistant collector. However, he spends little time in each of the districts. Other officers have been shifted between functionally related positions; for example, a man might move from Director of Industries to Secretary for Industries, Mining, and Geology. Officers, then, do move frequently. Out of the 104 IAS officers posted in Orissa in 1962, only 16 had remained in any 9 History of Services of Gazetted and Other Officers Serving Under the Government of Orissa, Vol. I, compiled by the Accountant General of Orissa (Cuttack: Orissa Government Press, 1959).

36

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

position for as long as three years, and only 4 for as long as four years.10 Three years is widely accepted as the reasonable time limit for any assignment. Most officers say that this maximum assures them rich and varied experience; that thereby, they will always face new challenges. The justification for moving about is that "administration is administration," no matter where or in what post, so all of these changes constitute additional experience which is both broadening and, at the same time, provides variation on the same basic job. Conversely, overlong tenure in one position is seen as undesirable. Officers who, for whatever reason, remain a relatively long time on one assignment are frequently viewed by others with sympathy. Such specialization hurts one's chances for assignment to New Delhi—an opportunity that is coveted, as we shall see—for there will be very few openings there in which the officer has had any previous experience. It is also widely believed that a lengthy assignment to one post constitutes a kind of "shelving" of an incompetent individual. It is presumed that the man is not particularly good at anything, and that his present job must be where he will do the least harm. In fact, however, it may be that he has a particular aptitude that he can utilize only in that setting. After an officer has served as collector, he usually moves to the Capital and into the Secretariat. Normally, he will leave again only if he becomes a Revenue Divisional Commissioner, a position not commonly held for more than four years. However, there are two types of position that are not reflected in the sample career plan shown earlier. An officer, instead of proceeding directly up the hierarchy, may be diverted in one of several ways. Of these the two most common are, first, that he may be "seconded"—that is, assigned—to a government corporation; or second, he may be sent to New Delhi. Both national and state governments have recently established a number of public corporations whose primary concern is with economic development. Managerial personnel for these corporations are drawn both from private industry and from government service. As a general rule, IAS officers in Bhubaneswar have not been eager to hold positions in the corporations. The work often demands too high a degree of specialization 10 These figures were compiled from the Orissa Civil

List.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

37

from men accustomed to being administrative generalists. Moreover, the work seems too litde like being in the Service, and too much like being in business. As one officer holding an appointment to a corporation reported, "as far as everyone else goes, they think I am in the 'Private Sector'." Officers who have held these posts have found themselves moved from the center to the periphery of the privileged government officers' sphere. A more avidly pursued extra-hierarchical assignment among Orissa IAS officers is deputation to the central government. At the time of the study, 23 out of the 104 officers allotted to Orissa were listed "on central deputation," and most officers in Bhubaneswar say they would like to go to Delhi. In New Delhi, they fill positions similar to those positions held within the state: Under-Secretary for Development, Joint Secretary for Steel, and so forth. But the job would "provide more scope," report informants, and offer as well the varied attractions that life in a big city could provide. And, since the states must contribute officers to the Centre, a New Delhi posting will become a reality to many. The procedure for selecting staff to be deputed to the Centre represents the balancing of conflicting interests. The central government wants the best men, but often the state government would prefer to send its weaker men. The men themselves may be pleading to be selected, and they may even be involved in some special set of machinations to facilitate their transfer. Thus, unlike the postings of new recruits, where the best men are given the most desirable positions—i.e. in their home states —it is not always the "best" men who get the coveted posting to New Delhi. About all one can tell about a younger man who is deputed to the Centre is that, "for the time being, he can be spared." 11 Since the state is, on occasion, required to provide the Centre with a specified number of men from each position, the state Political and Services Department, in consultation with the Chief Secretary, makes up a list of men who can be spared. Periodically, a representative of the central government comes to the state to scrutinize the list. In addition, he is given the character roll to examine—a confidential set of reports written 11

This discussion was pieced together on the basis of personal communications with several officers.

38

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

on each man by each of his superior officers. According to one informant, the tendency of the state to try to palm off its weaker men is counterbalanced by the efforts of the Centre to obtain stronger men. Sometimes, the state may choose one of its more able men for the Centre. If he is both competent and also devoted to the state, he will be in a position to push financial allocations that might otherwise gather dust on someone's desk. And he can provide intelligence for those officers who are trying to secure special consideration from the Centre, such as funds for new projects, special engineering or technical personnel, or licenses to produce or purchase scarce items. The process of selecting men from the lower levels of the bureaucracy is routine, however, despite the jockeying that goes on once the choice has come down to individuals. At higher levels, this selection may be on a much more personal basis from the very beginning. Often, officials at the Centre will request particular individuals. In such a case, the state must balance a good many considerations. If the individual requested has only recently reached the secretary level, such a request may be viewed with mild disapproval. Because the man is too young to have made an outstanding reputation for himself, it is assumed—although not necessarily accurately—that the officer involved has therefore been spending whatever business and leave time he has in New Delhi, promoting himself rather than doing his job. In this instance, officials must judge, on the one hand, the power of the person making the request and his relation to the officers of the state; and, on the other, the dispensability of the person requested. A more senior secretary might be requested because he commands special skills that the man at the Centre desires, or because he has a reputation for competence that the New Delhi individual particularly prizes, or because he is an acquaintance of the New Delhi official and they "think alike" sufficiently to make a good team. Generally, informants reported, ministers in New Delhi select people who are of their own language group and caste to serve as their chief administrative officers. But again, it is possible that the state might refuse. One of the highest ranking officers in Orissa was recently requested, and he himself declined on the grounds that he could not be spared.

T H E S T R U C T U R E O F T H E SERVICE

39

Sometimes the Political and Services Department in Orissa will consider humane and personal factors in making such an assignment. When an officer's father died, for example, and his mother consequently became seriously ill, he was posted to the central government, which in turn posted him to a central government position in his home city. Most assignments to New Delhi, at the lower levels, last about five years, a three-year appointment with a two-year extension, which is about all an officer can hope for if he is wanted back by his state. A senior appointment, by contrast, may last until retirement. An officer might never be posted to New Delhi, he might be posted only once, or he might go twice. The first opportunity to go would come if the Centre requested "five under-secretaries" and he were selected as one of them. He would be posted a second time only because he was specifically requested. With a second trip, he might leave Orissa for good, although he would always remain a member of the Orissa cadre. The system is designed so that each cadre will ultimately have more senior officers than it needs. Thus, about twenty percent of the men will end their careers in New Delhi. Ranking officials think that appointments to New Delhi are good for their subordinates, but that they should not stay too long. Contact with new people and new ideas is refreshing, but excessive "breathing of the rarefied air" makes most men quite unrealistic in their proposals when they return. In fact, New Delhi is viewed with ambivalence by most young officers. They think that most of the schemes emanating from that city are Utopian, unworkable, and foolish. In this, they echo the ics officers of the twenties, those posted in the districts who were impatient with orders from the state secretariats. But they are unlike the old officers in that, almost to a man, given the opportunity to go to the Centre, they will take it. THE ORGANIZATION WITHIN THE STATE

It is useful to conceive of the governmental organization as consisting of three hierarchies: the political hierarchy, headed by the Chief Minister and subordinate ministers; and two administrative hierarchies, one concerned with development,

F I S Q . 0 0 S

"

2 ? Ï >. ° O 3 G 'S O . -E »

'.£ = S S

£ '9

M

O —

S

¡.S

I

|3

¿ I

BÌ

-J

o

5 J S

C L

S.C « B »D O O 3 W Q . O Ç " O C UIL£ÍÍ.I-

oz E O " ° Q «•E

2

£

U J

A »

X

I

I

S

S 2-3

7

U F _ L O . IE

QT) O

3FCE O Ä O . E Q J : -

Oí O O

REVENUE

FIGURE 3.

•s ä u s u u u JS

•og eo _a

e o a.

u e w c=s D O

44

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

administration, and law and order, and another that could be considered the revenue hierarchy. Figures 1 through 4 illustrate both the independence and the interdependence of these hierarchies. My concern is with the two administrative hierarchies. The head of the administrative, development, and law-andorder hierarchy is the Chief Secretary, who is responsible for the smooth functioning of the Secretariat. He supervises all work done there; makes appointments, assignments, and promotions; and represents the ranking administrative officers to the ministers of government. In addition to his general responsibilities, he may take on specific duties as well; for example, in Orissa at the time of this study, he was also the Development Commissioner. The primary agents who help the Chief Secretary perform his job are one Additional Chief Secretary and two Commissioners. In Orissa at present, the Additional Chief Secretary is responsible for the Political and Services Department. Thus the major responsibility for Secretariat functioning is delegated to him. As the agent of the Chief Secretary, he makes the lower level appointments, removes bottlenecks, and follows all the necessary details of promotion and assignment. The Additional Development Commissioner formulates programs concerning development, and works out the means for implementing them. The Commissioner for Community SelfGovernment is concerned with programs to promote local government at the village level, by encouraging villagers to work together on development and "uplift" projects. These men, in turn, are expected to accomplish some of their tasks through the secretaries of such departments as Health, Industries, and Irrigation and Power. They also rely on their own administrative organization and on the collector for getting their work done. The secretaries themselves are responsible to the commissioners and to the Chief Secretary on the administrative side; but, as the Chief Secretary is responsible to the Chief Minister, so each secretary is responsible on the policy side to a minister or set of ministers. The secretary is primarily responsible for "implementation" of programs that will support the broader policy imperatives of government; that is, of the ministers. This aspect of the secretary's work includes formulation of

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

45

alternative programs for government to consider, and administration of those that are approved. To assist him in the Secretariat, he has a staff of additional, joint, deputy, and under secretaries. In the field, he works with department directors and their staffs, and, frequently, through the collectors. At the head of the revenue hierarchy stands the Member, Board of Revenue.12 He receives a higher salary than the Chief Secretary does, but he takes second place to him in the Table of Precedence (see Appendix E ) . The Member is responsible for the traditional function of the Service: the collection of land revenue. He is also responsible for those other functions that must go with such collection. He keeps charge of all land and revenue records, and he is responsible for the "settlement." The "settlement" refers to the recurring problem of assessing the value of land, and hence of determining what the tax should be. The length of time between assessments varies throughout India, and even varies within Orissa. But the most common length of time for the settlement in Orissa seems to be approximately thirty years.13 A Settlement Officer has the primary responsibility, although he works with the Collector, for evaluating the land "on the basis of locational and situational factors, quality of the soil, and anticipated yield." 14 Directly below the Member are three Divisional Commissioners, one for the north, one for the south, and one for the central portion of the state. They in turn are expected to supervise the collectors. Collectors, then, are responsible to two general sets of superiors: those in the Secretariat, concerned with both development and with law and order, and those concerned with revenue. The collector is still a chief magistrate, and his control over the police is considerable. Periodically, the collector will still find himself performing traditional emergency activities: he must aid flood victims, control epidemics, and put down civil disturbances such as student strikes and riots, which still take place with surprising frequency. 12 In fact, there is no Board, and he is the only Member. Hereafter, I shall refer to the Member, Board of Revenue, simply as "The Member." 13 This variation is the legacy, in part, of Orissa's creation from three other administrative units: Bengal, Bihar, and Madras. 14 K. N. V. Sastri, Principles of District Administration in India (New Delhi: Metropolitan Booksellers Pvt. Ltd., 1952), p. 92.

46

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

But more and more of his time is spent as a kind of conciliator, coordinator, and moderator over all the existing forces, pressures, and activities in his district. For he still is head of the district, and his organization is the most thorough-going of all government organizations there. Hence he finds himself, even if sometimes unwillingly, the overseer of rural health schemes propounded by the Department of Health; the coordinator of land-taking activities concerning the construction of a new road in conjunction with the Department of Public Works; the implementor of Grow More Food campaigns propounded by the Department of Agriculture; and, frequently still, the kind of representative of government to whom any person with a complaint against government may be directed.15 This provides a brief and schematic overview of the organization of administration in Orissa. However, as in many organizations, such a picture does not reflect the complexities that really exist. This is especially true in a period of rapid growth of an organization, and rapid growth characterizes the situation of the official ranks in the Secretariat. In 1944, there were only four secretaries in the Secretariat. Today, there are thirteen secretaries, two commissioners, and an additional chief secretary and a chief secretary. In 1948, there were nine departments in the Secretariat; in 1959, there were more than eighteen. Such rapid growth, especially when it is designed to meet problems external to the organization itself, never permits the orderly structure one might expect in a more stagnant organization. Complexities also exist because people frequently refuse to be lined up in boxes; their different personalities, ambitions, and skills will push them into different positions relative to each other. And, finally, the organizational imperatives themselves may change, altering a set of relationships when, for example, one position increases in importance relative to another as leaders decide that its functions are more crucial to organizational goals. For example, a Chief Secretary may, because of certain policy interests, select the most effective men to work with him 15 For more detail, see David G. Potter, Government in Rural India (London: G. Bell & Sons, 1964); and, Sastri, op. cit.; and S. S. Khera District Administration in India (New Delhi: Indian Institute of Public Administration, 1960).

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

47

on the projects he thinks are most important. But whatever the native abilities of these men, they gain even more power, and thus are even more effective, because they serve on those projects that interest the Chief Secretary most. This was clear from the answers respondents gave to the question, "Which officers are most able to get things done?" After the Chief Secretary, his "right-hand man" was named most frequently, although others ranked higher in seniority, and although the answers to this question otherwise hewed close to the formal status order. In the same way, a secretary in a closely related area was considered by many to have more power and authority because his work was so closely linked to the interests of the Chief Minister. His position was reinforced bureaucratically as well, a necessity because nominally he should have had the same status as any other secretary with the same seniority. He was given an additional secretary who, on the basis of seniority, had the right to his own secretaryship. Informants did not think the latter's status was seriously impaired. THE JOB

All of the preceding organizational description—the arrangement of slots to be filled—is highly abstract. Let us now explore both the breadth of governmental responsibilities and the nature of the work situation. To the outside observer, the tasks of government seem to be so great as to be almost impossible of achievement. A nation overcrowded and undernourished, steeped in ancient traditions that do not encourage rapid social change, must be moved into the twentieth century. In such a situation, economic advancement is tied not only to the growth of new institutions and customs, but also to the reshaping of those traditional ones which are at present impediments on the path toward real social change. In order to accomplish these ends, the government has taken to itself the role of "principal planner, energizer, promoter, and director of the . . . development effort." 16 This is a noble ideal, but the pool of educated, trained personnel com16 Carl C. Taylor, Douglas Ensminger, Helen W. Johnson, and Jean Joyce, India's Roots of Democracy (New Delhi: Orient Longman's, 1965), p. 1.

48

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

petent to carry out the tasks involved in planning, energizing, promoting, and directing a development program on the necessary scale is small indeed. Consequently, officials in the IAS have played a central role in the program, partly because they are a highly educated group, and partly because their organization is the only one extensive enough to do that kind of job. The range of the officers' activities is truly immense. In the domain of agriculture, for example, officers oversee certain aspects of every stage in the production process. They supervise construction of large irrigation networks, of roads to move produce, and of facilities to market them. They provide education and training in agricultural skills: how to use irrigation facilities, fertilizer, improved seed, and other modern farming techniques. Finally, they sponsor cooperative societies, whose aims are to improve the purchasing and marketing powers of the peasants. The government programs in agriculture involve not only teaching the farmer new techniques, but providing him with structures and institutions to maximize the use of these techniques. Massive efforts of this sort bring problems of coordination. It is one thing, for example, to teach the farmer to use fertilizer on his crops. It is another to get the fertilizer to him. And it is still another to bring him the increased supply of water he will need to make the fertilizer effective. The matter becomes even more complicated if the farmer is not initially motivated to improve his agricultural production. In those instances where a farmer must turn the lion's share of the output over to his landlord, or borrow money at exorbitant rates to pay for fertilizer or improved seed, he is very likely not to bother. Government efforts to improve agriculture cannot be confined to providing the means; government must deal with social problems as well. Government is as deeply involved in industrial development as in agriculture. The Director of Mining in Orissa, for example, is responsible for the exploitation of the state's extensive mineral resources. This involves locating the ore deposits, building roads to the mines, construction of "workers' colonies," training of personnel in the use of basic equipment, and negotiation of contracts with would-be purchasers of the ore when it is finally extracted. Involvement of the administration in welfare activities is no

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

49

less comprehensive. The Health Department is responsible for the establishment of local clinics (one study requested the construction of 2,100 such units in a ten-year period), the training of health service officials, and the maintenance of hospitals.17 It also falls to the Health Department to establish family planning clinics, train workers to man them, and provide information and materials for the program. The department is further responsible for preventive measures, which in Orissa include controlling cholera, eliminating mosquitoes which carry malaria and filariasis, ameliorating the conditions which cause high rates of tuberculosis, chlorinating water supplies, and fighting the spread of other diseases endemic to the area. Officers also have what might be called "cultural responsibilities" which are at once subtle and complex. These include teaching women about nutrition and sanitation, establishing village-level units of democratic government, and attempting to break the inequities resulting from extremes of caste and regional loyalties. By 1962, the Department of Education and Cultural Affairs was well along in a project to rewrite elementary school textbooks. This project was high on the Chief Minister's list of priorities. His comments on this subject illustrate both the goals of the program and the kinds of problems government faces in attempting to speed development. I quote him at length: It took us over eight months to print it. And what a job! We don't have good paper in India; we had to find good paper. We don't have good presses here; we had to build our own. And it is a beautiful book. And we had to fight vested interests every step of the way. Textbook publishers and printers, distributors and all; and we have put out a much better book at a small fraction of the price. A book a student can be proud of. And look at what is in it. Traditional textbooks were about maharajas and princes; bullock carts and the like. Now we have some modern things. Airplanes, ships, etc. We are going to form the student's mind in a new way. He is going to see these things and want to know what they are all about. His curiosity will be excited and that is the first step in teaching new ideas, new concepts. And they will bring new interests and abilities to their jobs. 17

Techno-Economic

Survey, p. 148.

50

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

Another branch of the same department was involved in the construction of new schools, and the instruction, certification, and promotion of teachers. A system of mass education was being created where none existed before. This, then, is the scope of the problem. But, as it is a long way from theory to practice, it is also a long way from the lofty goals of government to the daily work situation. It is to the work situation that I now wish to turn, for the comprehensive programs defined by planners in New Delhi look very different in the provinces. THE WORK SETTING

The Secretariat is the most imposing building in Bhubaneswar. It stands on the highest point in the center of the city, and with its huge facade and three long wings, is the largest building in town. Here the higher ranking IAS officers and the ministers of the state government have their offices. Until a new concern for security, resulting from the 1962 Emergency, led to new procedures, the Secretariat's long gray corridors were frequently filled with arguing, cajoling, and pleading people. The office doors that line the corridors are flanked by benches. On the benches sit rows of men in shabby uniforms, who serve as messengers, or peons. It is their job to carry files from office to office, to request subordinates to come to their superiors' offices, to mail letters, and perhaps to bring in their superiors' lunches. One of the men on the bench would be the doorman, or chaprassi. It is he who brings in the visitors' cards, explains that the secretary is busy, or just keeps some visitors away. Not even a high school graduate, although he can read and write Oriya and a little English, the chaprassi does not have responsibility for scheduling appointments, screening visitors, or other tasks that a receptionist might have in the United States. Only the Chief Minister's personal assistant (P.A.) fulfills that function in the entire secretariat, and he does this only for the Chief Minister. A Secretary to Government does his own scheduling. Usually, upon presentation of his card, a visitor is ushered directly into the secretary's office. He cannot be permitted to sit on the chaprassi bench, for that would be demeaning. And wait-

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

51

ing room facilities are scarce. Although I visited every officer in his office, I waited in a waiting room only outside the door of the Chief Secretary. But a quick invitation into an office does not necessarily mean that the visitor will be dealt with immediately. A secretary is highly accessible to people above a certain status level, so much so that many men insist they can only get work done—that is, "move files"—at home. Consequently, when one is ushered into a secretary's office, there may be several people already seated at his desk, conducting their respective business almost simultaneously. One might be a private citizen who has a complaint against the government. He may be waiting for his files to be found, or awaiting the result of an enquiry. Or he may just be sitting while the secretary tries to think his problem through. Another might be a lower-level government official who had come to the secretary for a decision on a troubling issue. And there might be an engineer who has come to discuss a problem on his project. The secretary deals with all cases at once, or in rapid succession. One receives the impression of great activity. Information comes into the office. Peons arrive bearing new files, and depart removing the old. Others carry the large registers which record the daily inflow of mail and the location of important documents. The office steno is called in to take a letter or type a form. A peon is sent to summon an under-secretary. The telephone rings, and it is the secretary's minister, who wants some information on a project under way in a distant corner of the state. The secretary may have the answer ready—he frequently is familiar with many details of many projects—but he may have to send for the information. The secretary will be trying to keep track of files that contain programs that have been sent to other departments for "concurrence." If a caller wants the file, more energetic activity may be required. For example, the Welfare Secretary wants a file that has been sent to the Finance Department. The chief clerk is called in; he remembers sending the file by messenger to the department, and is quite sure the file has not yet returned. A telephone call to the Finance Secretary elicits the information that he has never seen the file. After telephoning and questioning lower level personnel, the file is finally found on the desk of an under-secretary. The under-secretary has not yet for-

52

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

warded the file to the Finance Secretary, because he is not sure the project is feasible. The Welfare Secretary loses his temper: no project of his department is going to be blocked by an undersecretary. He calls the Finance Secretary again and reminds him of some favor performed earlier. The recipient of the call promises to look the proposal over immediately. Since other departments are also pressing him, he will in fact probably not look it over for the next few days; that is, unless the other secretary is a special friend or someone to whom he is under obligation. But the next time he is called about this project, he will send for the papers while he is still on the telephone, and if he is planning to approve it, will grant approval immediately. A peon will then be sent to pick up the papers and take them to the next office. The work of a secretary is not limited to his office. As often as once a month, he may go "on tour" to view the installations of projects connected with his department, interview personnel in the field, or smooth the way for a minister who will be making an inspection tour the following week. These tours may last from one day to a full week. And once every few months he will travel to New Delhi, to confer with central government officials over some problem, to attend a seminar for people in his present specialty, or to sign a contract. Such a trip also gives him the opportunity to pick up the latest gossip about government, and to catch up on the activities both of relatives living in New Delhi and of members of the Orissa cadre who are posted there. New Delhi is not the only city he might visit. Trips to Bombay, the Indian financial center, to sell bonds or make government loans are possible. And meetings with contractors and suppliers might take place anywhere within India. A real travel plum, and somewhat more unusual, is a trip abroad to sign contracts. Foreign exchange regulations are severe in India, and not many people have had the opportunity to travel abroad. Among the officers, only 7 of the 28 have done so. Of the seven, two were old ics officers who had to go to England for training and preparation for the examination. For this reason, many foreign companies, when submitting bids for government contracts, also offer the opportunity to sign the contracts in their home countries. During my stay in Bhubaneswar, one secretary and one minister went to New York to sign a contract, and another secretary visited Eastern Europe to study specialized marketing procedures.

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

53

Tour, then, gives the officer a chance to vary his already varied work activities. Add to this a month of annual leave, up to a month of sick leave, eighteen to thirty work holidays a year, and it is clear that the secretary is not bound excessively to his desk. Most officers, however, believe they work long hours. Many arrive at nine-thirty in the morning, and end their day around six. In addition, Type vm houses come with one room to be used as an office, thereby encouraging work at home; and many officers do in fact work there in the early morning, evenings, and on weekends. Since much of the secretary's activity consists in giving approval to decisions already made elsewhere, office work is sometimes easily transferable. An officer simply brings his files home. The file seems to be the unit of work in the IAS. This goes back even to British days and the ics, when the number of files an officer could dispatch in a morning was an index of his efficiency. Sometimes officers distinguish between easy and difficult files, but more usually the content of the files in this regard is almost irrelevant. One officer complained to me bitterly that he had barely two files of work to do per day, and he could not understand why government wanted him. THE NATURE OF THE WORK

Now that we have examined the context in which work takes place, let us turn to a description of the secretary's responsibilities. As was noted earlier, the secretary's primary duty is to implement the ruling party's programs, as propounded by the ministers of government and the party's members in the state legislative assembly. His job is to give those programs a general shape, and then administer them through subordinates. Before this, he must submit his proposals to his minister for approval. In the secretary's ideal world, the minister merely marks out the broadest policy goals—e.g., "improve the health of the people" —in a manner consistent with Congress Party policy, and the secretary takes whatever steps are necessary to carry that out. In the real world, it is another matter. The secretary, with his staff, works out various "schemes" to implement the programs, and submits them to the minister, who in turn selects among alternatives presented. Once a proposal is selected, the secretary

54

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

must begin whatever steps are necessary to get the program under way. The relevant subordinates are called in, hiring is done if necessary, tenders are requested if construction is to be considered or new supplies are required. The minister will probably want to approve many of these steps, especially those concerned with the allocation of resources such as hiring and the letting of contracts. The secretary must also be prepared to provide any relevant information the minister may want, and to get answers if he does not have the information to hand. In this context, the Question Period in the legislative assembly meetings is a particularly trying time for him, as it is for his British counterpart. Questions may range from "What is the cost of the rural health center in Village X?" to "Why does the Block Development Officer use the government jeep for what appear to be his private affairs?" Secretaries resent questions that necessitate telephoning all over the state, feeling this is a waste of time and money. A question such as "What is the grain position in all government warehouses (godowns)?" may take thousands of rupees worth of telephone and telegraph enquiries. And for these procedures, all other work may stop. Thus, since a secretary is responsible for knowing the answers to such questions, he may require that all actions taken by anyone in his field be submitted to him for final approval. The secretary must also be thoroughly familiar with the numerous and complex rules and procedures to be followed in order to accomplish any task. Within the Secretariat alone, the Orissa Secretariat Instructions—a volume of more than four hundred detailed pages—sets out everything, from which departments require concurrence for a scheme, to which must be informed before any action can be taken, to the color of paper and style of writing required for different kinds of correspondence.18 A list of some of its chapter headings communicates some of its flavor: I. Organization II. Recruitment and Promotion III. Conduct and Discipline 18

V. Ramanathan, The Orissa Secretariat Instructions (Bhubaneswar: Political and Services Department of the State of Orissa). [This publication is undated, but was published between 1959 and 1962.]

THE STRUCTURE OF T H E SERVICE

IV. V. VI. VII. VIII. IX.

55

Maintenance of Registers Outline Procedure in Dealing with Cases Inter-Departmental and Other References Arrangement and Custody of Records Budget Procedure Rules Connected with Procedure Between Departments of Government and the Legislature

Reports and Returns Committee Procedure Care of Typewriters Knowledge of procedure is helpful to the secretary, too, if he wants to delay an action. When he feels pressure from above to accomplish something he opposes, he may introduce procedural difficulties as a defensive measure. During my stay in Orissa, a frustrated Chief Minister used to implore his officialdom to forget about all those complex procedures and take steps to accomplish whatever was necessary, regardless of formal conditions. "Use the telephone," he told the officers, who habitually put all business in writing. "Take shortcuts," he would plead. During meetings with officers, he would frequently cry, "To Hell with rules!" and "Regulations be damned!" when trying to get a program through. But he never succeeded in changing their habits. Thus, as is so often the case, the intricacies of procedure and form in the bureaucracy take on a momentum of their own. The grand schemes from New Delhi are transformed into the paperpushing routines of the secretary's life. MEANS OF DISCIPLINE AND SOCIAL CONTROL

The Administrative Service has provided one of the few careers in India that selects its participants according to a standard that is primarily achievement-oriented. Subtle kinds of ascriptive qualifications may be taken into account during the personal interview, but given the general Indian situation—or, probably, any employment scene anywhere in the world—conditions are relatively objective.19 19 Some of the large international corporations now require competitive examinations for employment, and many of them are attempting to apply standards followed in their home countries.

56

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

However, once membership is achieved, a prestige and income escalator is set in motion that is all but unstoppable. Pay raises are automatic, related to number of years of service. Even larger increases may accrue to people if the allotted number of senior posts for that state is not filled. In 1962, salaries started at Rs. 600 per month, and the escalator does not stop of its own accord until the salary of Rs. 2,500 per month is achieved. This came, in Orissa, with appointment as Commissioner, after approximately eighteen years of service. Higher pay than Rs. 2,500 comes with positions of higher rank, either in New Delhi, or as Chief Secretary or Member in Orissa. Promotions to these posts are based primarily on evaluations of personnel reports, and superiors' observations of the ranking officers involved. But an officer who does his job in reasonable fashion, without either great zeal or skill, will nevertheless get steady standard promotion. One can be dismissed only for corruption, not incompetence; incompetence is much more difficult to prove, and as in many bureaucracies throughout the world, requires extraordinarily complex procedures. And even the corrupt may not be dismissed. There is such a high esprit in the Service that, one officer said, "If the chap is caught at an early stage, and if he is 'genuinely contrite,' he will be given another chance." Discipline, in fact, depends heavily on some sense of esprit and of commitment to the organization. Shaming and embarrassing are perhaps the most effective methods a superior has to keep his officers working hard. Stories abound of superiors scolding subordinates at public meetings. If a superior thinks that the man involved is well motivated, he may call him in, explain why he is doing poorly, and give him "a good dressing down." But there are other ways as well. One ranking officer tells the story of a younger officer who did not appear at work in the morning until 11:00 A.M. The superior, by contrast, reported to work every morning at 9:15. As soon as he came to work, he would telephone the younger man, and naturally, would be told that the younger man was not yet in. He would then continue to call every fifteen minutes until the junior man was there to answer the telephone, and when the junior man finally did arrive, there was a subordinate to tell him that he had been called every fifteen minutes since 9:15. "You can be sure,"

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

57

the superior said, "That this chap was in his office at 9:00 every morning [an hour early] from then on." Another weapon in the superior's arsenal is the assignment. Technically, the Political and Services Department is responsible for postings within the state. However, posting of IAS officers after the first year is done in consultation with the Chief Secretary and the Member, both of whom have had the opportunity to see the person at work. In most cases, assignments are made that try to fit the man to the job. A person with language skills, for example, may be posted to an area where language skills are most important. But postings can also serve as disciplinary measures. One informant pointed out that if an officer is posted to a quiet, provincial district, when he is obviously bright and his length of service entitles him to something more, "he knows why he is there," and so do his fellows. This is a very effective method for "bringing a chap up." However, the ambiguities of the situation may create tensions, because in fact it is not always clear whether the assignment is being made on the basis of special skills and aptitudes, or as the recognition of inadequate performance. Consequently, much of the gossip among younger officers is devoted to analyzing the meaning of assignments: are they rewards or punishment? can an esteem ranking be made on the basis of them? One officer was particularly downcast to discover that he had been posted to an outlying district. His colleagues commiserated with him. Shortly after his posting, it was announced that several major factories were to be built in that district. Apparently, the appointment was made to honor the young officer's capacities rather than denigrate them. There is a tendency, some suggest, to be lenient with IAS officers in matters of discipline. One man explained the situation this way: officers feel they are "top-rank" intellectually, for they have passed a competitive examination; all the officers know each other personally. When a man gets off the track, he said, his superior's instinct is to try to rehabilitate him rather than to punish him. A good superior, this man continued, must also stick up for his men in time of difficulty. He hopes that his men realize it, and give all they can in return. And officers do defend their men. At one time, a member of the Orissa cadre, posted in New Delhi, was held in the position of under-secretary

58

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

for what was thought to be an unreasonable length of time. The then Chief Secretary of Orissa went to New Delhi and informed the superior involved that either the man was to be promoted, or he would be taken back to Bhubaneswar. He received the promotion. In general, then, the range of sanctions open to a superior is not very broad. He must try to maintain a high sense of esprit among his men, and to that end he must rely principally on psychological tactics if he is to get the highest levels of performance from them. SUMMARY

The IAS remains one of the few organizations that reach into every corner of the country, and one of very few high-status organizations that recruit on a primarily objective basis. However, the qualifications required for membership and the method of post assignment may no longer be the most appropriate ones for the enormous tasks officers must confront. The entrance examination, following the British "educated amateur" tradition, puts a premium on breadth of knowledge rather than on depth. And while facility in English and the ability to recall divergent bits of information are useful for the "giving information" part of the job, it has become questionable whether they are the skills most needed in seeing complex development projects through to completion. Similarly, the rapid shifting from one post to another, again in the British tradition, may facilitate one's general education, but it discourages the acquisition of knowledge in depth and the ability to stay with a task through the long hard pull. In fact, it discourages interest in long term projects, since the officer has only a few years in which to make a good impression. Quick, if superficial, payoffs must become the goal. Related to this is the custom of handling a number of tasks simultaneously. The officer is forced to flit from one item to another as he deals with his stream of callers. Traditions of discipline maintenance neither reward clearly outstanding performance nor punish slovenly work. Automatic promotions for those who do not get into trouble and just barely hold up their end of things do not encourage the initiative necessary for coping with the demanding jobs the Service has be-

THE STRUCTURE OF THE SERVICE

59

fore it. Such structural arrangements are adequate for routine performance, even routine performance done admirably; but they cannot by themselves inspire dedication in the execution of large scale programs which require both a measure of expertise and a greater measure of staying power. I shall return to this theme in Chapter XI.

Chapter V The Officers: Who They Are and Why They Joined

STATUS

By many objective measures, IAS officials comprise an unusually intelligent group. In 1960, 11,000 college graduates throughout India took the competitive examination for admission to the IAS, and fewer than 100 passed high enough to enter the Service. Other data give support to the contention that officers were, at the very least, good students.1 In a study of the 615 regularly recruited officers in the Service in 1960, Srinivasavaradan found that 348, or more than half, completed their college degree in the first class, 245 in the second, and only 22 in the third.2 Although I did not collect data systematically on this point, a large number of respondents reported that they had graduated first, second, or third in their college classes. There is some evidence that they come from a high-ranking economic group as well. The costs of a college education come high in a poor country, for a family must give up a potential earner during his protracted period of study. Hence the mere requirement of a college degree for those taking the examination helps to guarantee some measure of wealth. The relatively great importance of skill in English points to the same conclusion. A household in which some members already spoke English (providing a head start for those taking a competitive examination) would, with some notable exceptions, be a household which under British rule was a wealthy and high-status 1

Braibanti and Spengler, op. cit., p. 57. T. C. A. Srinivasavaradan, "Some Aspects of the Indian Administrative Service," Indian Journal of Public Administration, VII, 1 (1961), 26-31. 2

60

THE OFFICERS

61

one. The better private schools and private tutoring, both again sources of advanced skill in English, also cost money. Rao reports on economic data which put even the latest recruits in the higher brackets.3 In 1960, 55 of the 72 trainees (76.4%) reported parental incomes of more than Rs. 300 per month, with almost half of that group reporting parental incomes of more than Rs. 900 per month. These figures almost certainly underestimate parental incomes. High Indian tax rates discourage accurate reporting of income while, at the same time, the tax laws allow a reduction of the individual's tax liability if income is distributed among members of a joint family. Moreover, cash still plays a limited role in much of rural India. Braibanti interprets the large number of recruits at the lower end of the income scale in recent years as a sign of leveling in the Service; but it should also be pointed out that there has been an increase in recruits from the rural areas as well, which may account for the smaller reported incomes of the newer groups.4 What are the men behind these statistics like? Let us turn to the sample and examine the status of officers' families of orientation, and compare them with other groups in the community. In the discussion that follows, I shall eschew such broad concepts as "class," and explore instead the respondents' rank on the dimensions of caste, occupational level of fathers, education, and urbanness. This approach is not entirely free from difficulty. Even in much more homogeneous societies, there is not always agreement as to how people are ranked. For example, American society has been thoroughly studied by sociologists. It is an industrial society having a single language and something approaching a national style of life. Yet the relative ranks of different groups in different status hierarchies is not always consistent. Thus we know that the church whose membership generally is highest status is the Episcopal Church. Yet, in much of New England, high-status people belong to the Congregational Church. 5 Some of the same complexity also holds true for eth8 D. N. Rao, "Disparities of Representation Among the Direct Recruits to IAS," Indian Journal of Public Administration, IX, 1 (1963), 88-94. 4 Braibanti and Spengler, op. cit., p. 55. 5 N. J. Demerath III, Social Class in American Protestantism (New York: Rand McNally Publishing Co., 1965).

62

B U R E A U C R A T S U N D E R STRESS

nic and occupational categories. Sociologists studying towns in America sometimes resort to complex combinations of indices to arrive at something they call "social class." Turning to India, the areas for potential ambiguity increase greatly. For India has not been subjected to the kind of sociological examination that America has. In addition, India is not an industrial society with a consistent style of life. The opposite is more nearly true. Remnants of a kind of feudal system that encompassed many small societies and as many cultures vie with new forces released by growing industrialization and a changing political order. How this will all "shake down" is still open to question. Offsetting this ambiguity somewhat is the fact that because of the caste system, Indians tend to think about each other in a more hierarchical fashion than Americans think of themselves. For in America, democratic ideology tries to minimize or bury status differences, while in India the caste system makes them absolutely essential to the social order. To avoid some of the difficulties, I simply suggest that my total group of respondents represents the higher levels of their social order; broadly speaking, they are a ruling class. The differences within this group are my particular interest. Wherever the matter is open to question, I shall try to explain why I rank a particular category as I do, so the reader will understand what I am doing and why. CASTE AND RELIGION

The first dimension I shall discuss is caste. For our purposes, we may conceive of the caste system as consisting of four clusters of hierarchically-ranked groups.6 The clusters are called varnas; in order from highest to lowest, they are Brahmin, Ksatriya, Vaisya, and Sudra. Making up the varna cluster are a number of groups, each of which is specific to a particular locality, and each of which is endogamous. These groups are the castes. I emphasize that the varnas are clusters of groups, for within each varna, there are numerous distinct castes. For example, there will be several discrete castes within a given area, all belonging to the Brahmin varna. Within this group of Brahmin castes, in turn, there will be a hierarchical ranking of each 0 The most helpful detailed discussion of caste I have seen appears in Irawati Karve's series of articles entitled "What is Caste?" in Economic Weekly of Bombay, X, 125-138, 401-407, 881-888; XI, 149-163.

THE OFFICERS

63

caste in relation to the others—although all might not agree about the ranking. It is also important to remember that castes are locality based. Brahmins from Madras, for example, would acknowledge that Brahmins from Bengal are indeed Brahmins, but the Madrasis would consider the Bengalis members of a different caste. Brahmins, the highest group, traditionally were priests, teachers, and advisers to kings. As priests, they have had the sole right to perform rituals. Ksatriyas were traditionally the warrior and ruling classes. Some scribe castes also claim Ksatriya status. The Kayasthas in Bengal and the Karans in Orissa fit into this category. The Vaisyas are the business castes; and the Sudras, who represent the bulk of the population, are the agriculturalists and other forms of laborers. (The reader should note, however, that these divisions represent the prescriptions of a theological system. It is not clear that in practice the divisions were ever adhered to strictly. Historically, there have been exceptions, such as Brahmin and Vaisya kings.) The caste system, then, in principle if not in practice, prescribes both ritual status and occupation. And, as in feudal or early Western aristocratic systems, those who earn their living through business or physical labor rank rather low. With this brief description completed, we turn to the sample. Among the Hindus in the ias, 15 of 23 ( 6 5 % ) are Brahmins. Six of the 10 Hindu engineers ( 6 0 % ) are Brahmins, and 5 out of 9 of the Hindu educators ( 5 6 % ) are Brahmins. Only 1 of the 10 politicians is a Brahmin; however, 7 are Ksatriyas. One of the 3 businessmen is also a Brahmin. Curiously enough, this distribution is not far from the caste system prescriptions. The politicians—rulers—are Ksatriyas, surrounded by administrators, educators, and government engineers, who are predominantly Brahmin. A further breakdown is interesting. Among the ias, 15 members are Brahmins, 7 are Ksatriyas, and 1 is a Vaisya. There are no Sudras among this group. In addition, there are 5 men who are not Hindu. However, these men come from areas of India where their own religious group is of perceptibly higher status than it is in Orissa. They are 3 Sikhs, 1 Muslim, and 1 Christian. The Sikhs come from the Punjab, in many areas of which Sikhs constitute both the majority and a high-status group. The Muslim comes from Hyderabad, a former princely state whose

» » C O n a N

ß

00 o

O c O O O .C M S3

en O O —I o

o

e ca

«

o. a o o

p

S

PS w l-l p

« ra tí D 5 S

72

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

the jobs themselves—the college-degree requirement for IAS officers, the technical training required of engineers, the degrees required of academics—we would expect these three groups to be well educated. And, indeed, they are. It is interesting here to note, however, that 16 of the 28 IAS officers went on to obtain either a master's or a law degree, although this was not required of them. By contrast, only one engineer of 12 took a degree beyond the required bachelor's degree. Of the academics, 5 of the 9 have obtained their PhD's. The politicians present a striking contrast to this highly educated group. Only 4 of the 10 have a bachelor's degree or better, while the remaining 5 for whom I have information did not complete college. The businessman group is too small to allow weighty inferences, but again it is interesting to note that none of the three had any college education at all.10 To explore the educational status of the IAS officers a bit further, it can be said that the large number of officers with advanced degrees does not of itself necessarily indicate any love for higher education. Rather, it is in part a product of the recruitment procedure. The minimum age at which one is permitted to take the competitive examination is twenty-two. Since many college students in India are graduated when they are nineteen or twenty, they must work at something until they become eligible to take the examination. Some evidence for this is the fact that out of the 13 members of the sample who were recruited by examination, 9 have advanced degrees. Only 4 of the other 15 do. It is true that some of these people did plan a teaching career, discovered that they could not live adequately on a teacher's salary, and then decided to sit for the examination. Two people in the sample reported that they did this, and a third officer, not in the sample, volunteered that information. But there is a widely-held belief that college teachers are people who could not pass the competitive examination for the all-India services, and this kind of situation provides some evidence for its truth. In summary, then, IAS men come from somewhat higher 10 Professor DuBois, in her study, included an additional twelve businessmen whose incomes were roughly comparable to the incomes of the businessmen in my sample. Of these twelve, four had college degrees and another had the equivalent of a junior college degree.

THE OFFICERS

73

status backgrounds than others. When fathers' occupations are evaluated on a scale that combines both modernity and status, IAS officers rank highest, and they also rank highest on caste. They rank second to educators on education. The IAS is the most Western and urban of any of the occupational categories, although it is not clear what the implications of this are for status. It is my impression that Westernness and urbanness counted for more in a status evaluation just before independence and in the first few years after it than they do today. They are English standards of status in some sense, and may be less relevant as English influence declines. The IAS officers, then, come from that sector of the society which would be most likely to produce offspring who could pass this particular competitive examination; that is, the wealthy, urban, and educated classes. The elites in other occupational areas—the engineers, politicians, and even the educators—are more like the IAS group than many of its members would be willing to admit. It is true, however, that with the exception of the engineers, the other groups are either less urban, poorer, or less well educated. One must be careful about this kind of description. Reporting that civil servants are wealthy, urban, and educated in the Western style, tends to produce images for Westerners of anglophilic gentlemen with Oxbridge accents, who look back on the grand old days of the Raj as they chatter about cricket, polo, and The Strand. Lucian Pye communicates this impression of administrators he met in Burma. 11 Yet, these men are not that sort. It is true that they were educated by the English educational system, but in India and largely by Indians. They speak English fluently and comfortably but it is distinctly Indian (as compared to "The Kings") in both accent and idiom. And they are not predisposed to remember the "good old days"; certainly not in the way that English tea planters in Darjeeling or old English ics officers might. MOTIVATION FOR

JOINING

Some sense of the ambiguity of the IAS officers' position can be caught by exploring their reasons for joining the Service. An 11

Pye, op. cit., p. 225.

00 VO O f i Os (S fS —I

I "

O O O O es »-"

u 1-1 r- m es o o vi a 2 o a [1, hH < >u c E O Ö

IcCd

O O Tt O O O

m

O „J So ts 8 -S ^ S u S

CO

c •h* a o. s VO o o w O •J « PS -O H< > o.5 . t> ö £ ^cd Jg • « 1 CA 5 ed ü cd •a P d ^ vi < u 'S cö t-t . y3 » a> c g T3 s U T3 •2 S » o» c« •a S c u O. "O X 75 e CA S 3 cd V dû ä 3 S •§ u e R o OU TO 2 -a Dl -M c s ée1 Ao es e £ a « tH S w cds to 4J cd u cd «g M o s* O s? n-í o g¡ a .2 !» o s bO tì) o Ä 2 fi cd Ä « s M H H H û

THE OFFICERS

75

analysis of the answers to the question "How did you choose your career?" (see Table 6) reveals a group of ambitious, but very dutiful sons, following what they perceived to be the best of very few occupational choices available. I grouped answers to the question into three broad types, which I have called "jumped," "fell," and "pushed." The "jumped" category ( # 1 ) is perhaps the simplest. Included here are the people who were highly motivated to join the Service. The officer who exemplified this attitude told me, "I knew that I wanted to be an ics officer from the time I was eight years old." Another saw that the Service "represented the highest attainment for any young man. . . . I was attracted by the prestige, the prospects, the social position, and the comfort." Among the officers in my sample, only three fit into this category. The "fell" category (#2,3,4,5,6, and 7) contains the broadest range of responses. I grouped them together because I found that in all these answers, the respondents' own volition counted for little. Most noteworthy in the "fell" group is Category # 7 : "It was supposed to be the best job available; I didn't have a choice, there was no other alternative." Exactly half of the IAS officers gave this response. If they wanted a decent and secure life, the Service was the best. The most extreme case of this was the officer who reported, "all my friends were taking the examination, so I decided to try as well." "The question [of career choice] is meaningless," replied another respondent. "I could only get ahead in government service, so I took the competitive examinations." Still others were preparing for other careers, but decided to apply for the Service "just to see what would happen," and found themselves accepted. The answers given by two respondents illustrate the situations of the people in this category. "I couldn't be an engineer or a doctor, because I had an arts degree. What else could I do? For a person without capital, government service was the only way to get ahead." And finally, "My family was not very rich, and for people who are not very rich, there are only two avenues for a career. One can be a lawyer, or one can go into government service; I sat for the government examination." What impresses one about these answers is the perception of limited choice that they communicate. "Liking one's work," or

76

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

finding it interesting, is not a relevant consideration. "Getting ahead" is what one wants. And although passing the competitive examination is no easy thing, this career choice represented some kind of path of least resistance for many. It is interesting to note, however, how many of the IAS officers stressed the importance of getting ahead. For most of the other respondents viewed their career choice simply as "finding a job." Seven of the IAS officers report that they were "pushed" into the Service. This group of people, I think, helps to clarify the previous category of people, and illustrates more clearly the position of government service in Indian society for that generation. Here was a group of men taking highly tentative steps toward exploring areas that interested them personally, that would in some way help them to define their own identity. And yet they perceived, perhaps correctly, the awesome social forces that propelled them into government careers. I quote at length from three of the "pushed" responses to communicate their perceptions of the system. (i) It was a quirk of fate. I had planned a career in English. I thought that would be a good career, despite the fact that the educational services paid very poorly. But my family had a good deal of property, and my brother had gone into the family business. I thought that if part of my income came from property, then I could afford to be a teacher. My father said that he would leave me half of all his property if I went into business. If I wished to be a teacher, he would leave me Rs. 250 a month. With the additional money, I thought I could do that. But then came partition, and we lost everything. I had grown up near [a certain city] and we had extensive properties there. We were all chased out and our property confiscated. That ended my chance for an independent income, and I took a job as a journalist. . . . I then decided to try to join the Service. I took the exam, and passed. (ii) Just after I passed from the college, I was very keen to utilize the knowledge of science which I had obtained. But my father, of course, was keen that I should go into

THE OFFICERS

77

the IAS because that was considered to be the job with the highest prestige in the country. The IAS examinations had just then started to replace the ics examinations. But I said that I would only go for [a scientific] kind of job. Some job where I could put my new knowledge to use. Much against my father's wishes, I went to [a certain city] with the intention of studying [a related subject.] I did study that subject . . . and I then wanted to find a job that was appropriate. But I found that after doing the course quite well, I could not get a job at all, though I tried hard. I found that people I had trained up myself, they were being given the same jobs for which I was trying. So I came back in a huff to [my home]. And just then, my father suggested, why not the administrative service. So I said all right. As a concession to the father, I'll try once. So even after writing the examination, I was trying to get myself entered into [another government service] and things were almost fixed up. At that time, I got the call for the interview, and within a week, I was declared selected. So that is how I got into the IAS. (iii) Right from the beginning, I had trouble. After finishing high school, I decided to join the British Navy. I took the examination, and passed along with one other chap. (He is now a retired admiral.) And I was ready to go to Dartmouth. But although my father seemed to accept this, all the other relatives did not. They screamed and hollered about how I was an only son, and I was going to put to sea to be shot at. If I had to earn my living, it was one thing, but since there was enough rice in the family, what kind of occupation was that to have? I was not permitted to go. Then I decided to take my intermediate in science and become a pilot. I joined the [local] flying club. Again my relatives started to howl. Not my father, but my relatives completely blocked me. In the first place, they said, flying was not safe, and I was an only son. In the second place, there was no difference between a plane driver and a car driver, except the difference in salary, and everyone knows what we think of car drivers. So what respectable man will marry his daughter to you? Stay at home, if that is the way you choose to make a living.

78

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

. . . My brother-in-law suggested that it might be a good idea to study commerce, so I studied commerce. Now I got a first class in this, but I studied banking and international currency so that I could become a banker. I was all set to become a banker, but decided first to go to London and study banking there before taking up work. On the day I was to leave Bombay, war was declared, and I received wires pleading with me to come, so I turned around and went home. [Respondent then worked for various relatives. Decided to sit for competitive examination. Passed and entered Service.] Here we see several themes: the importance of family preference in career choice, at a time when every son was a representative of the family; the respectability, security, and status of a career in government service; and the universalism of the criterion for success—the ability of the individual candidate, shown in his performance on an examination—which was absent from many other types of career opportunities. Followers of other occupations show motivational patterns similar to those of the IAS officers, in the sense that relatively few jumped, and most fell. Many academics, for example, report that they had received scholarships for advanced study that stipulated that they teach on completion of their course. "When I was in school in Calcutta, the then state of Bihar and Orissa awarded scholarships to go abroad to Cambridge. When I came back, I was required to join the teaching profession, because that was stipulated in the scholarship." Likewise, four of the politicians claim to have been swept up in the wave of nationalistic feeling during the last years of British rule. Two more, rajahs, saw political leadership as a family tradition. The three businessmen are following their fathers. Several of the engineers report that they did not pursue entrance into the IAS because their grades were not good enough. Some, however, did report a special aptitude for science; in that context, engineering became the scientific career they pursued. Representative of that position is the following: I wanted to be a doctor, and my father wanted me to be a doctor. At that time, however, the medical college was not looking kindly on people from the state areas. I passed my intermediate, and then I went to Patna to try

T H E OFFICERS

79

to get into medical college. But they told me that I would not be admitted. So I took up my BSc in engineering, and I came to engineering in that way. Similarly, another respondent also wanted to be a doctor. But the medical school required a large cash deposit prior to admission, and, at the last minute, he decided to attend engineering school instead. It is striking how forces that were accidental yet almost inevitable seem to have been instrumental in determining a person's career. Middle-class Americans believe, perhaps incorrectly, that one chooses his career on the basis of interests and aptitudes. It seems that the Indians, in a land of limited opportunity, where strong traditions define "legitimate" career goals, cannot afford to believe this. This is particularly true in a land where parents still have a strong influence on the careers of their children. Why should one make a commitment to a career, if it is only to be overruled? The following is a quote from another engineer: I got admission from both engineering and medical school. But my family was opposed to my going in for medicine, because doctors must attend women in labor, and do other things that are unclean. And my family was very orthodox. So although I was interested in medicine, and even though I had a sponsor, an eminent doctor who was willing to set me up in the profession, give me tools, etc.—I had assisted him, and he thought I had a natural aptitude—train me up, I chose engineering, because my family disapproved of medicine. But we are also struck by the way the IAS was represented to the respondents' generation. It was the "best deal" for an intelligent middle-class boy. It was supposed to provide reasonable wealth, status, and security, combined with respectability. This is seen not only in the responses of IAS informants; a number of the engineers and the educators imply or even state that they were not "smart enough" for government service. DISAPPOINTMENT ON THE JOB

Although many officers were not themselves strongly motivated to join the Service, most did expect a career in the Service to

80

BUREAUCRATS UNDER

STRESS

provide power, high status, a life of comfort, and security. Except in the last, however, it has not lived up to their expectations. They feel that the Service is not what it once was, and although it is difficult to ascertain whether the Service has actually gone downhill, it seems true that a Service career does not live up to what the officers imagine its old position to have been. Three questions in the questionnaire help in evaluating the satisfaction—or its lack—that respondents feel in regard to their jobs. First, I asked all the respondents, "If you had it to do over again, would you do the same thing?" Second, on the assumption that if respondents were satisfied with their careers, they would want the same for their offspring, I asked what career plans they had for their children. Third, all respondents were asked their opinion of the Administrative Service. I was mistaken in asking respondents, "If you had it to do over, would you do the same thing?" Respondents would imaginatively place themselves again in their earlier position and say, for example, "It was the only choice open to me." It would have been more interesting to ask, "If you were a young man beginning your career today, would you choose the same occupation?" Asking the question as I did, I received the answers shown in Table 7. Turning first to the IAS respondents, 6 said "no," 4 said "probably not," 8 said "maybe," and 8 said "yes." The "mayTABLE

7

Responses to "Would You Choose Same Job Again?" by Occupation of Respondent Response

Occupation Yes IAS OAS

Politician Businessman Academic Engineer TOTALS

Maybe

Probably Not

Totals No

Not Asc.

8 2 3 3 3 8

8 0 1 0 1 1

4 0 1 0 2 0

6 4 1 0 0 1

2 0 4 0 3 2

28 6 10 3 9 12

27

11

7

12

11

68

T H E OFFICERS

81

be" and "probably not" categories are interesting. These are the people who answered, when I asked if they would make the same choice again, "I had no choice. It was the only opportunity open to a boy of my position. Today things would be different." This answer becomes more interesting in terms of that indefinable quality called "job satisfaction." Many of these respondents perceive that their own job has been downgraded, that new fields have opened up, and there are better opportunities elsewhere. TABLE

8

IAS Officers' Responses to "Would You Choose Same Job Again?" by Reason jor Career Choice How chose career?

Jumped Fell Pushed TOTALS

Do Again? Yes 3 4 1 8

Maybe 0 8 0 8

Probably Not No 0 0 1 3 3 3 4 6

Totals Not Asc. 0 2 0 2

3 18 7 28

Fifteen years of service have failed to have much positive impact for these men. When one compares answers to the question about whether they would join again, with the reasons why they chose their job (see Table 8), one discovers that their opinions have not really changed. Those who jumped are the ones who provide (proportionately) most of those who would do the same thing over. Those who were "pushed" are heavily weighted toward the "no" side, with only one saying he would do it again. By contrast, the ones who fell are apparently still not certain whether or not they made the right choice. That the pushed should be discontented or that the jumped should be pleased is not surprising; that long association with the Service has not made more men zealous supporters of it, is. CAREER CHOICES FOR CHILDREN

If these people show ambivalence about their own career choices, they show much less about their ambitions for their

82

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

children. With only two exceptions (one of them an Oriya promoted officer), officers with children of school age (N = 21) send their children to the two English language missionary schools in the area, although they must pay a fee to do so. Generally, the girls attend the Convent school and the boys attend the Protestant school. In addition, although I do not have figures on this matter, almost all of the officers have private tutors for their children as well. "Some of these children are so crammed full of facts from their tutoring," one teacher reported, "that they do not have room to shift them about in their heads; that is, to think." As parents, then, the officers are ambitious for their children, and are willing to spend time and money to help them get ahead. In this light, the career plans they have for their young children, and the occupations they have already chosen for their older ones, are all the more revealing. To understand what these are, I have categorized four kinds of answers as "career choices." First, for respondents with young sons, I have included their career plans for the sons. For those with young daughters, the second category, I have included career plans for those who have them, or the possible choices for occupation of a future husband, if these were volunteered. The third category includes careers of grown sons, since fathers still exert a great deal of influence on the occupational choices of the sons. And finally, I have included the occupations of the husbands of married daughters. Since, in all but two cases, the husbands were chosen by the father, the occupation of the son-in-law also represents a career preference on the part of the father-in-law. Some qualifications of this last category should be offered. Dowries for marriage to high-status men are expensive, and respondents may have been unwilling or unable to pay them. In this sense, the occupation of the son-in-law may represent a compromise between what is desirable and what is attainable. On the other hand, it is my impression that fathers work very hard to arrange an excellent marriage for their eldest daughters at least. Moreover, unmarried trainees still report that they receive large numbers of marriage proposals shortly after they enter the Service. However, they do not seem to be receiving proposals from prospective brides' fathers who have themselves been in the Service.

THE OFFICERS

83

Rather, the evidence seems to show that service in the IAS ranks fairly low. Twenty-one of the 28 officers had plans for their children; of these, only 6 considered the IAS a possibility for any of their children. By contrast, 15 had at least one child for whom engineering was a career choice. The next largest category was the occupation of doctor. Seven officers had at least one offspring whom they hoped would follow, or who was following, this career. The situation is even more extreme than the data suggest, for two reasons. First, of the 6 officers who have IAS career choices for their children, 5 might be called special cases. One of them was the father of nine children; he had selected a wide range of occupations for them because, he said, "I didn't want to put all my eggs in one basket." Two were people who had come from lowly origins—one from a peasant family, and the other an Oriya who had worked his way up through every one of the Orissa State civil services into the IAS—and for them, the Service still represented the ultimate in accomplishment. The fourth was on old ics officer who was still strongly imbued with the old traditions of service. And the fifth was a father whose daughter had married an IAS officer in a love marriage—one of the two instances in my sample where a daughter chose her own husband. Because I had set for myself a category of "occupation of son-in-law," I felt that I could not legitimately exclude this one from the analysis of totals. Second, observers have suggested that Indian fathers tend to distribute the occupations of their children among several choices, as did the father of nine cited above. In a general way, the data support this. Parents with more than one son almost always reported different occupations, but the IAS was usually left out here as well. "Engineer, doctor, lawyer, engineer" was not an uncommon pattern. That so few fathers have chosen a Service career for even one offspring is surprising. What these data reveal is that the typical officer does not think that the IAS represents an attractive career choice for his children. For these men, engineering is the most popular choice. By contrast, business and politics, although possible roads to greater financial security, are scarcely chosen at all. A striking comparison to the IAS case is that of the engineers. Only one engineer said he would pursue a different career if he

84

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

had the choice. And only one said maybe. In career choices for children, the engineers were very much like the officers. Only two of the engineers did not have an engineering career in mind for at least one of their children; the children of one of these two were all IAS officers. But he was the only engineer who had chosen government service for any of his children. The academics, who are in some respects the most demoralized members of the community, follow a different kind of pattern. Although four of six who answered suggest that they would pursue academic careers if they had it to do over again, their complaints about the life of a college professor are extensive and truly pathetic. Only one is planning an academic career for his offspring. Engineering again receives the largest vote, with others scattered over the occupational spectrum. The figures, small though they are, are quite remarkable. In one generation, one occupation thought highly desirable has been replaced by another. In the Indian context, it takes on even greater significance. Administrative work is certainly part of the legitimate territory of a person of high caste. As I have pointed out before, Brahmins have been advisors to rulers in the past. Clerical work, admission to which is based on scholarly activity, fits clearly into this pattern. It is not so clear that engineering does. However, in many complex societies, status distinctions made by members may seem to the outsider, on the one hand, extremely subtle, or on the other, more apparent than real. In this case, for example, although officers are not particularly eager for their sons to be businessmen, they are more than willing for them to serve as engineers in large business corporations. That is, they can be agents of businessmen if not businessmen themselves. It remains to be seen, too, just how engineering jobs are perceived by officers. On this score, I have no information. It may be that engineers are seen as doing very much the same sorts of work that officers do now, with somewhat more emphasis on technical matters than previously. If this were found to be true, the shift to engineering takes on new meaning. On the one hand, it may be that officers perceive trained engineers as the new "ruling elite" in some technocratic society of the future, in which the Administrative Service and its generalist traditions have been downgraded. On the other, perhaps the officers view

THE OFFICERS

85

engineering as merely a more highly-skilled extension of the administrative tradition, and as such, a new but legitimate field for their offspring. EVALUATIONS OF THE SERVICE

As might be guessed from the foregoing, evaluations of the Service by IAS officers are less than overwhelmingly favorable. Among the 28 IAS respondents, 16 had unambiguously good things to say about the Service, 9 had strongly negative opinions, and 3 were ambivalent. Further, this probably is an understatement of negative feelings toward the Service. For there were many forces at work in the social situation that would push respondents toward providing favorable answers to the question, "Do you think that, on the whole, the IAS is a good service for India?" These forces included the following: first, I was a stranger, and a foreigner at that. There is always a tendency in such a situation to keep dissatisfaction "within the family." In fact, a respondent told a third party, in regard to my interview, "Why let him in on our little problems?" Second, many respondents wanted me to return home with favorable impressions of India, and took pains to speak well of the country. A corollary of this was that during the formal interview, several officers spoke well of the Service; these same officers, on social occasions, often complained bitterly about it. Third, there is an IAS rule that officers are not permitted to say anything against the government. No officer could be certain that I would not report him to his superior, in which case he would face a great deal of trouble. Seen in this context, negative findings bear additional weight. It should be added that, without all of these qualifications, the proportion of negative and ambivalent feelings seems quite high, considering the high status the Service has enjoyed. When we look at the statements themselves, we are struck by the sense of the negative that even the positive ones contain. "It's the best we have," was a common response (39.8% of IAS responses; see Table 18). Another was, "It must be good; the competitive examination is difficult and fair." And still another: The administrator's job is getting heavier. He has a much more difficult load of work than ever before, and

86

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

both his prestige and pay are declining. He is trained for a wider range of subjects, and he is far more knowledgeable than his predecessors. There was only one response that was wholly enthusiastic, and even that one had a defensive ring to it. Just think for a moment. From 1951 to 1961 there was a great deal of political instability. If the administration had been weak, or merely reflected the political situation, the state would have gone to pieces. But during that time, the state not only held together, but a good deal of work was done. In fact, despite the political strife and the small contributions by politicians to state business, the state went ahead. Much was accomplished. Orissa moved from the absolutely most backward state in India to somewhere around the average or slightly below. I know this sounds like a lot of bullshit [sic], but if we were just yes-men, the state would be in a very different position today. This officer's response, in fact, is an accurate one. Orissa's political history has been characterized by instability, coalition governments, and even, at one time, rule from New Delhi. During my own stay in Orissa, one chief minister was replaced, and shortly after I left, it happened again. The ambivalent and negative responses were more explicit. I shall discuss these at greater length in later chapters. However, I include this response here because it is both articulate and representative of the attitudes that officers in general have toward the Service today. Well, it was really the ics which attracted young men. It represented the highest attainment for any young man, especially if he were not wealthy to begin with. But just as I applied, the ics was closed down and the IAS was created. . . . I was attracted by the prestige, the prospects, the social position, and the comfort. Now after having been in the Service for some time, the prestige and the power are still there, but the income has been a dwindling affair, and the comfort depends on the mentality of the individual involved. For example, when I applied for the ics, I had to go to the Collector's house. He kept me waiting for half an hour,

THE OFFICERS

87

in the waiting room of this big house, and then came out with great dignity. I was very impressed. But the great comfort I imagined then, and the leisure, is not there. I have not regretted it, though, although for some people there have been difficult adjustments, because there is no glamor. But I'm not sorry at all. For a Brahmin youth, it was the best opportunity there was, to pass the all-India competitive examination. And, as I say, the comfort is according to mentality. I am happy coming into the office at 9:00 and leaving at 7:00. Another person is not comfortable unless he comes to the office at 10:30 and leaves at 2:00. But as I say, the money is little, and there are some who are disappointed in this. I myself derive a great sense of satisfaction from a sense of doing things which are important for the country—you know, the feeling of achievement, the feeling of having a great deal of power to achieve with, power for good and evil depending on how you use it. I would say most important are power and prestige. Now for a person with a mercantile background, who is accustomed to great wealth, he must be unhappy. Our salaries were set up in 1947, and there has been inflation, so there has been the tension of adjustment for many—well, not many, but some. And the work load is much heavier than in the ics, and we have to do many more things than the ics officers had to do. Their main responsibility was law and order. Now, some brilliant people did some individual studies which are very impressive, and which make people think that the ics officers all worked very hard and did brilliant work, but actually, the basic part of his job was a very simple one which he could dispatch in a few hours of work a day. Today the collector must really get to know a great deal more if he is to do his job at all well. He must know about irrigation, he must know about agriculture; in some areas in the state, he must know a good deal about mining. Without these things, he cannot be a good administrator at all, and he cannot administer the programs for which he is responsible. Former members of the state services who have been promoted up to the IAS express stronger dissatisfaction than those who were regularly recruited. Although one might expect the promoted officers to identify with the Service, and to develop

88

BUREAUCRATS U N D E R STRESS

attitudes similar to those of the regularly recruited officers, this identification does not always seem to take place. Rather, the promoted officers seem still to maintain their prior identifications and viewpoints even though they are now members of the Service. [The IAS] has also had its bad effects in that it brings about a complex in the state services that is an adverse complex for men in the state, who feel inferior when they are faced with the superiority complexes of the men in the all-India services over it. Compared to the ICS, the IAS has been weak. And if the ics was the steel frame, you could call the IAS the bamboo frame. . . . The recruits taken from competitive examinations can be compared to unripe fruits, which have already been canned and labeled and set in a mould. Because of their lack of ripeness, their lack of experience, their lack of self-understanding, they are unable to stand up to powerful politicians. They cannot be individualists.12 This promoted officer focuses his criticism of the officers on their sense of superiority, and on their youth, which leads to indecisiveness and a lack of clear understanding of problems. In summary, then, IAS officers are disappointed with the Service. This can be seen most dramatically in their expressed career plans for their children. Almost none of them want their children to follow in their footsteps. Rather, at least in my sample, a career in engineering has replaced the IAS as the most desirable occupation for young people today. The men I have interviewed generally feel that it is in the more technical areas that wealth and status are to be found for the future. 12 Braibanti, op. cit., has suggested that inter-service hostilities have diminished greatly since independence. Although I do not have data for historical comparison, this observation seems incorrect—at least at the state level—simply on the basis of current attitudes. Hostility toward the IAS is extremely high, and is freely expressed by respondents in all other services. It is hard to imagine that at an earlier time it could have been higher.

Chapter

VI

Sources of Strain: The Changing Nature of the Job

The IAS officers' lack of enthusiasm for the Service is not an accident of the temperaments of those who have chosen to join. Nor is it the result of major changes in the evaluative standards of the society. Rather, it is the product of a series of systematic changes in the nature and responsibilities of government that neither the organization nor the men in it have been properly prepared to face. The organization of the Service and the expectations of its members are based on old models and old needs, which are no longer appropriate. Consequently, the system is suffering from a set of strains that hamper its performance and generate discontent. By strain, I mean stresses and tensions within the organization itself resulting from the discrepancy between role incumbents' expectations concerning their jobs and the actual nature of those jobs, imbalances among statuses within the system, and the differential expectations of role incumbents within the system vis-à-vis each other. Strains in an organization are interesting not only for their immediate effects, but also because they may cause the members to act in ways aimed at reducing stress. The stress-reducing activities in turn may be deleterious to the goals of the organization, thus producing, in the long run, more rather than fewer strains in the organization. In this chapter, I shall limit myself to a discussion of the strains arising from the changing nature of the job. In succeeding chapters, I shall take up other problems. THE LOCUS OF WORK

As we have already seen, the typical ics job was in the district. It was a leisurely job, or at least so the legend goes, with oppor89

90

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

tunities for tiger hunts, pig-sticking, and the pursuit of other sports or of studies. At the same time, an officer had freedom: to make quick decisions, to schedule his own work. Today, the primary locus of work for the government officer is the Secretariat. In fewer than twenty years, from 1944 to 1962, the number of secretaries has quadrupled, and other positions have proliferated accordingly, greatly enlarging the Secretariat. Leisure, independence, and freedom are not characteristic qualities of work in the Secretariat. One is caught in an elaborate network of responsibilities and obligations defined by forces outside one's control. The officers feel this acutely. Consequently, officers who move into the Secretariat feel that they have lost status—that they are declassed—although rank and the perquisites of rank may, in fact, be upgraded. One young officer expressed his perception of this: Before coming [to Bhubaneswar] I was the collector, that is the chief executive officer of a district; and there it is practically like being emperor of the place. And there was even a sort of obsequiousness about the behavior of people there both inside and outside; I mean not only the direct subordinates but even people from the Secretariat. They used to be extraordinarily polite. . . . As a way of getting at this problem in more detail, I asked officers the following question: Some people say that working in the Secretariat can be a very frustrating experience. They say that so many different people at so many different levels can interfere with the execution of a particular project, regardless of their qualifications, that the original project is altered quite radically, if it is ever completed. Do you think they are right? As Table 9 shows, 14 of the 22 officers who answered this question were in substantial agreement with it, although there was a range in both the degree of frustration that each respondent reported he himself felt, and the explanation each man gave for its causes. Some of the answers to this question are similar to those given to a much earlier question in the interview: "What do you

es

00 v o O (N t-H

O

J

«

VO

S

Tf

S ^

o\

rt

(S

S M

C . o -¡2

•s S

S

o

o

& O

H

O

N

T3 u en" P i

O £

ra u se

.

ë

~ CO to "3

»G

.2

a o

rt

z

u

"

•2

§

O

S Ti

u

• Cd a

'•o

S

a

60 —%

60 e

A,)

S o " U a c HH o u >O .V

o

Ë

Î*

•a u

3 JO O".

U o

s

S 3

> «O 03" S O

AH

VO fN «

C

•J m

-V

c3 >-


fti

E

N

N

H

r

N

H

i

H

U

K

l

H

H

o PQ

e o iE, O

M

S m

t

n

«

N

O

H

N

H

H

m

p

)

i

í

i

N

^

O

\ M

k. - o

H

s £

O O O O O O O ' - i ' - i O O M f 0 t ~ - \ 0 O

S e x

N

O

N

O

i

H

H

«

N

N

N

H

|

f

|

H

N

»

0

ß .

cd S

^ ^ • i n v i ' i ì ' f ì i o i o i n ' n t n v i v o « « »—I»—I*—t ï—t

< r-t

I *-H »—I *-H

( i—I » - I

\ CS

J? I pH

Appendix Sample

D Career

Patterns

AN EMERGENCY RECRUIT

Probationer, IAS Training School Attached Officer, Home Department

Delhi Cuttack

14 May 1949 6 Aug. 1949

Earned leave for 34 days from 6th March 1950 to 8th April 1950; allowed to prefix from 4th and 5th March 1950 and 9th April 1950 Additional Assistant Collector, Commercial Taxes

Cuttack

10 Apr. 1950

Collector of Commercial Taxes in addition from 12th May 1950 to 13th July 1950 Assistant Magistrate Additional District Magistrate Chief Electoral Officer and ex officio Deputy Secretary, Home Department

Cuttack Cuttack

18 Sept. 1950 1 Nov. 1950

Cuttack

26 July 1951

Earned leave for 36 days from 1st March 1952 to 5th April 1952 Collector of Commercial Taxes

Cuttack

7 Apr. 1952

Confirmed in IAS with effect from 14th May 1952 Earned leave for 107 days from 10th October 1957 to 24th January with permission to prefix Puja holidays from 25th September 1957 to 9th October 1957 Additional Secretary, Health Secretary to Government, Health and Relief and Rehabilitation Department Additional Secretary to Government, Health and Relief and Rehabilitation Department

Bhubaneswar

2 Feb. 1958

Bhubaneswar

25 Feb. 1958

Bhubaneswar

2 June 1958

Earned leave for 29 days from 16th August 1958 to 13th September 1958, absence on 14th September 1958 to be regularised. Special Officer, Political and Services Department

212

Bhubaneswar

15 Sept. 1958

APPENDIX D

213

Secretary to Government, Education Department

Bhubaneswar

8 Oct. 1958 P.M. to 5 Dec. 1958 P.M.

Services placed at the disposal of Government of India [From there, he became Deputy Chairman, Calcutta Port Commission. He was then reassigned to the Orissa Cadre of the u s , and was made Collector at Cuttack. Following that, he became Secretary to Government, Ports and Commerce.] A PROMOTED OFFICER

Sub-Deputy Collector on Probation

Balasore

3 March 1936

Transferred to the Orissa Province from 1st April 1936 Assistant Settlement Officer Banki 2 Jan. 1937 Sub-Deputy Collector on Probation Balasore 18 March 1937 Sub-Deputy Collector on Probation Chatrapur 24 July 1937 Sub-Deputy Collector and Tahsildar Balliguda 3 Dec. 1937 Confirmed in the Orissa Subordinate Civil Service with effect from 3rd March 1938 Stationary Sub-Magistrate Gunpur 3 Jan. 1939 Deputy Tahsildar Gunpur 2 May 1939 Promoted to scale 'B' of Bihar and Orissa Revised scale from 29th April 1939 Tahsildar Parlakimedi 17 April 1941 Appointed to the Orissa Civil Service (Executive Branch) on probation under Government of Orissa notification No. 11970-A(c), dated the 10th June 1943 Tahsildar and Deputy Magistrate, Deputy Collector on Probation Parlakimedi 10 June 1943 Deputy Magistrate and Deputy Collector, Headquarters Station (Treasury Officer, Puri, in addition) Puri 17 Sept. 1943 Deputy Magistrate, Headquarters Station, Koraput and Treasury Officer Koraput (held charge of Koraput Division, in addition.) Koraput 7 Jan. 1944 Superintendent of Excise in addition, 13-19 December 1944

214

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

Confirmed in the Orissa Civil Service (Executive Branch) with effect from 10th June 1945 Subdivisional Officer and SpeNawarangpur cial Assistant Agent Deputy Magistrate and Deputy Collector and Treasury Officer, Koraput Koraput Subdivisional Officer and Special Assistant Agent, Koraput Koraput

9 July 1945 9 July 1945 25 Aug. 1945

Earned leave for 30 days from 8th June 1946 to 7th July 1946 Subdivisional Officer and Special Assistant Agent

Koraput

8 July 1946

Treasury Deputy Collector in addition from 20th April 1945 to 22nd May 1947; also held charge of current duties of Collector, Koraput in addition from 24th December 1947 to 31st December 1947 Deputy Collector, Additional Chief Secretary to Chief Administrator and Special Commissioner, Orissa State Cuttack Secretary to Chief Administrator and Special Commissioner, Orissa State Cuttack Special Officer-cum-UnderSecretary to Government in Supply and Transport Departments Cuttack Additional District Magistrate n Cuttack Under-Secretary to Government Works and Transport Department Bhubaneswar Deputy Secretary to Board of Revenue and ex officio Deputy Secretary to Government in Revenue Department Cuttack Deputy Commissioner of Excise in addition Cuttack Special Officer, District Board Regional Director of Resettlement and Employment, Orissa Deputy Secretary Works and Transport Department Magistrate and Collector and Agent to Governor

28 May 1948 22 June 1948

29 Oct. 1949 7 May 1951 18 Sept. 1951

22 Dec. 1952

Cuttack

15 Sept. 1953 to 15 Jan. 1954 1 Jan. 1954

Cuttack

23 Aug. 1955

Bhubaneswar

22 Sept. 1956

Koraput

11 May 1957

APPENDIX D

215

Deputy Secretary to Government Health Department Bhubaneswar 27 Feb. 1959 Appointed to IAS with effect from 9th June 1958 [From there, he became Director for Agriculture.]

AN OFFICER SECONDED TO A GOVERNMENT

CORPORATION

IAS Training School Delhi 2 Jan. 1950 Attached to Home Department Cuttack 16 Aug. 1950 Confirmed in IAS with effect from 3rd August 1950 Assistant Collector Cuttack 1 Sept. 1950 Assistant Magistrate Berhampur 3 Oct. 1950 Assistant Magistrate and Collector Sambalpur 15 Nov. 1950 Assistant Magistrate and Assistant Collector Balasore 21 Dec. 1950 Subdivisional Officer and Assistant Collector Jeypore 7 March 1951 Subdivisional Officer Koraput 15 June 1951 Earned leave for 30 days from 19th February 1952 to 19th March 1952 Subdivisional Officer Khurda 28 March 1952 Under-Secretary, Finance Department Cuttack 14 April 1953 Earned leave for 27 days from 8th June 1953 to 4th July 1953 with permission to affix Sunday, the 5th July 1953. Under-Secretary, Finance Department Cuttack 6 July 1953 Made over charge in the afternoon of 2nd January 1954 to join as Land Reclamation Officer, Hirakud Land Organization, Sambalpur Land Reclamation Officer, Hirakud Organization Sambalpur 4 Jan. 1954 to 1 Oct. 1954 Deputy Commissioner, Resettlement, Sambalpur (in addition) Sambalpur 28 Jan. 1954 to 11 Feb. 1954 and 10 April 1954 to 9 Aug. 1954 On earned leave from 13th October 1954 to 14th October 1954. Permitted to prefix puja holidays from 2nd October 1954 to 12th October 1954

216 Land Reclamation Officer

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS Sambalpur

Deputy Commissioner Sambalpur Additional District Magistrate, Sambalpur in addition Sambalpur

15 Oct. 1954 to 25 July 1955 25 July 1955 28 Aug. 1955 to 1 Sept. 1955

Earned leave from 11th June 1956 to 1st July 1956 Deputy Commissioner

Sambalpur

2 July 1956

On earned leave for 12 days from 24th November 1956 to 5th December 1956 Deputy Commissioner

Sambalpur

6 Dec. 1956

Confirmed in Senior grade of IAS with effect from 2nd January 1958 General Manager, Orissa Mining Corporation on Foreign Service from 10th May 1957 (Bhubaneswar)

Appendix

E

Warrant of Precedence the State of Orissa 1

for

1. The Governor 2. Chief Minister 3. Chief Justice of the High Court Speaker of the Legislative Assembly 4. Cabinet Ministers of State Government 5. Rulers of States now merged in Orissa, who were entitled to a salute of 9 guns prior to their merger (Kalahandi, Mayurbhanj, Patna and Sonepur only). 6. Puisne Judges of the High Court of Orissa 7. Deputy Ministers of State Government Advocate General Deputy Speaker of the Orissa Legislative Assembly 8. Members of Parliament Government Whip in the State Legislature Leaders of Opposition in the State Legislature Other Members of the State Legislature 9. Chairman of the Public Service Commission Chief Secretary to Government Members of the Board of Revenue 10. General Managers of Railways Inspector-General of Police Commissioners of Divisions 10a. Rulers of States merged with Orissa who were not entitled to any salute of guns prior to the merger 10b. Vice-Chancellor of the Utkal University 11. Members of I.c.s. and I.A.S. of 15 years standing and over Secretaries to Government Additional Secretaries to Government Secretary to Governor Deputy Inspector-General of Police 12. Accountant-General, Orissa 13. Brigadiers, Commodores and Air Commodores Chief Engineers Additional Chief Engineers Chief Operating Superintendent, South-Eastern Railway Chief Accounts Officer and Financial Adviser, South-Eastern Railway 1 Taken from the Orissa Civil List.

217

218

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

Chief Commercial Manager, South-Eastern Railway Chief Engineer, South-Eastern Railway Chief Auditor, South-Eastern Railway Director of Eastern Circle of the Survey of India with headquarters at Calcutta Members of the Public Service Commission Registrar of Co-operative Societies Director of Agriculture Director of Forests Director of Health Services Director of Public Instruction Director of Industries Director of Animal Husbandry and Veterinary Services Commissioner of Sales Tax, Orissa Inspector-General of Prisons Secretary to Governor Joint Secretaries to Government Controller of State Transport Members of the I.c.s. and I.A.S. of 10 years' standing and over Secretary, Orissa Legislative Assembly 14. Collectors of districts within their charges Registrar, Orissa High Court Collector of Customs (Central) Collector of Central Excise Colonels, Captains of Indian Navy and Group Captains of Indian Air Force Commissioner of Income Tax under the Central Government in-charge of Orissa and Bihar District and Session Judges within their charges Director of Posts and Telegraphs 15. Collectors outside their charges Commissioner of Religious Endowment Labour Commissioner Conservator of Forests Secretary to Board of Revenue Deputy Secretaries to Government Additional Deputy Secretaries to Government Director of National Employment Service Director of Public Relations Director of Community Projects Director of Grama Panchayats Director of Fisheries Director of Mines Lieutenant, Colonel, Commanders of Indian Navy and Wing Commanders of Indian Air Force Members of the Public Service Commission Members of the i.c.s. and I.A.S. of 7 years' standing Collector of Commercial Taxes or (Additional Commissioner of Commercial Taxes)

APPENDIX E

219

Regional Director, Company Law and Investment Administration Regional Food Commissioner (Central) Regional Labour Commissioner (Central) Regional Provident Fund Commissioner (Central) Settlement Officers Superintending Engineers Public Health Engineer Government Architect Superintendents of Police within their charges Senior Deputy Accountant-General Deputy Director of Eastern Circle, Survey of India with headquarters at Calcutta 16. Joint Director of Health Services (Public Health) Government Pleader Secretary to the Orissa Public Service Commission 17. Assistant Inspector-Generals of Police Additional District Magistrate Central Intelligence Officer Assistant Commissioner of Income-tax, Orissa Deputy Accountant-Generals Principal of the Police Training College, Angul Joint Director of Agriculture Joint Director of Industries Joint Director of Technical Training Joint Registrar of Cooperative Societies Superintendents of Police outside their charges Additional Superintendents of Police within their charges Under-Secretaries to Government 18. Principal, Ravenshaw College Deputy Directors of Public Instruction Deputy Directors of Animal Husbandry Deputy Directors of Industries Deputy Directors of Agriculture Deputy Transport Controller Deputy Director of Marketing Deputy Commissioner of Excise Deputy Registrar, Co-operative Societies Deputy Director of Fisheries Vice-President of the Board of Secondary Education Principal of Sailabala Women's College, Cuttack Principal of Samanta Chandrasekhar College, Puri Principal of Gangadhar Meher College, Sambalpur Principal of Fakir Mohan College, Balasore Principal of Maharaja Purna Chandra College, Baripada Principal of Rajendra Narayan College, Bolangir Principal of Krushna Chandra Gajapati College, Parlakimedi Principal of Orissa College of Veterinary Sciences and Animal Husbandry

220

BUREAUCRATS UNDER STRESS

Principal of Shriram Chandra Bhanj Medical College, Cuttack Principal of Utkal Krushi Mahavidyalaya, Bhubaneswar Principal, Radhanath Training College, Cuttack Principal, Basic Training College, Angul Deputy Director of Posts and Telegraphs Deputy Director (Engineering) Posts and Telegraphs Department Officers of All-India Class i Central Service of 15 years standing Electrical Engineer and Electric Inspectors Agricultural Engineer, Class i Industrial Engineer, Class i Private Secretary to the Governor Private Secretary to the Chief Minister Adult Social Education Officer Heads of Post-Graduate Departments of Ravenshaw College 19. Assistant Secretaries to Government Assistant Secretary of the Orissa Legislative Assembly Assistant Secretary, Orissa Public Service Commission Chief Inspector of Boilers and Factories Civil Surgeons Divisional Forest Officers Principal of Orissa School of Engineering, Cuttack Principal, Engineering and Mechanical School, Jharsuguda Principals of Engineering Schools at Bhadrak and Berhampur Assistant Director of Public Health Principal of Gopabandhu Ayurvedic Vidyapith, Puri Assistant Collector of Central Excise Assistant Director of Fisheries Executive Engineers Inspectress of Schools and Inspectors of Schools Government Analysts Majors, Lieutenant Commanders of Indian Navy and Squadron Leaders of Indian Air Force Port Officer, Orissa Provincial National Savings Officer, Orissa Superintendent of Government Press Oriya Translator to Government Note 1—As between the Officers in the same article the date of entry into the article will be the basis for determining the relative seniority, if there are no other rules or orders determining relative seniority in which case such orders should be followed. The order in which the posts are mentioned in any one article is not the basis for determining the seniority inter se. Note 2—Except in case of ladies, who hold a post mentioned in the Warrant of Precedence, all ladies will take their places

APPENDIX E

221

along with their husbands in their respective Warrant of Precedence. Note 3—Chief Secretary to Government will take precedence over Member, Board of Revenue, irrespective of their entry into Article 9. Note 4—Members of the I.c.s. and I.A.S. will take their place according to the post they hold, if that is higher than the place to which they are entitled according to the years of service. Note 5—Collectors of districts within their charges will take precedence over others under the same article irrespective of the date of their entry into Article 14.

Appendix

F TABLE

27

Responses of IAS Officers to the Question: "What Do You Like Best About Your Job?" No. Times Given

Response The content of the job itself, or the work of my particular department (e.g., mining, forestry.)

7

Its wide "scope": challenging, you face different kinds of problems, use your skills in varied ways, opportunity to travel.

3

"Idealism": You can keep to your standards, do your work "without fear or favor."

3

Ability and wherewithal to do good: help build up the country, watch things grow, work on development projects, work with people.

8

Power: " I direct very important things;" "I have many people under me;" " I make important decisions;" "I have built up my department."

5

Status: You have prestige, a good position in life, the image of my job is high.

3

Financial security: secure job, good pay, you can do your work the way you want without worrying about money or security in life.

6

There is nothing I like about my job.

3

Total Number of Responses: Number Number Number Number

in IAS group: of non-respondents: giving 1 response: giving 2 responses:

38 2 14 12

28

28 Number of responses given:

222

38

TABLE