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WITH the tehelka.com expose having claimed its early round of victims: two chiefs of national parties – Bangaru Laxman and Jaya Jaitley, the Defence Minister, George Fernandes, a serving Major General of the Army, sundry officials of the defence ministry – and all in a short span of a few days, it is not surprising that the journalistic fraternity is feeling somewhat ‘chuffed’ with itself. Clearly the media company, earlier in the news for having carried out a similar operation involving hidden cameras and tape recorders to expose the unholy nexus between cricketers, officials and bookies, has advanced our understanding of ‘investigative journalism’ and re-defined the ethics of the profession.

For a country somewhat inured to stories of corruption, including in defence deals – after all from the army jeep scandal in the fifties involving the then minister, V.K. Krishna Menon to the HDW submarine deal and Bofors guns in the eighties, we have an honourable tradition of sleaze and graft accompanying arms purchases – the outrage generated by the latest round of revelations comes as a welcome surprise.

More than the amounts ostensibly involved, or even the cast of characters in the fray, what has astounded the common citizen is the ease with which those incharge of the nation’s security can be approached if not suborned, as also the brazenness with which the ‘honourable’ engage in deal-making. The fact that the president of the political party of which our former defence minister is the best-known public face, can invite and meet brokers and middlemen in the official residence of the minister, with confidential documents and files strewn around, must surely rank as a first. It out-does the earlier alleged instance of a money-bag delivering a crore at the residence of a former prime minister. These are TV times.

Even more fascinating is the sheer incompetence of the arguments advanced by the ‘accused’, or their spokespersons, as defense and cover-up. Since the fact of moneys being exchanged cannot be denied (the evidence is on camera), we are subjected to not only the usual, ‘This was for the party’, as if that implies exoneration, or that since the ‘sting’ operation was carried out by a fictitious company, no deal actually took place and consequently no breach of security was involved. But surely the cake must be taken by Bangaru Laxman’s plaintive cry about the ‘breach of trust’. ‘We, after all, invited them into our house.’ Evidently, carrying hidden cameras and tape recorders is not cricket. The fact that public trust was breached is obviously of little significance.

All we have so far witnessed are the early acts of an ongoing soap opera. With possibly more resignations to follow, and the otherwise clueless opposition demanding that the government step down on ‘moral grounds’, we are likely to witness an escalation of political insecurity. There is the usual hungama in Parliament, and a flurry of conclaves among opposition politicians to cobble together fronts – just in case the government falls. What, however, remains unclear is whether the ‘system’ will rise to the challenge and actually attempt to get to the bottom of a sleazy network in an effort at self-cleansing. Or, will committees of inquiry facilitate cover-up as much as nail the guilty.

All too often, interest wanes once the public ampi-theatre has been supplied with its ritual victims. Analysts have already started reminding us of the Bofors syndrome – how defence purchases and thereby preparedness was set back by years because of a ‘witch-hunt’. Others will warn us about the danger of slipping army morale. Still others about corruption being a cultural phenomena. Business after all must continue.

This, I believe, would be a travesty. Instituting systems of transparency and accountability is never easy. There are just too many individuals at all levels wedded not only to self-interest but extant procedures and modes of functioning. There is also no denying the damaging potential of ritual blood-letting. So, are there ways of actually bringing the ‘guilty’ to book, through proper legal procedures, rather than merely rely on the fickle base of public opinion, or once again seeking resolution by resorting to a general election?

Since what has been most shaken is our moral core as a society, what we miss today is a voice – individual or an institution – that can remind us of our dharmic duty. In many ways Gandhi played that role. So did JP in the years leading to the Emergency. Even V.P. Singh’s moral crusade enjoyed resonance, albeit briefly. Let’s see who today picks up the mantle?

Harsh Sethi