India's general election is a massive affair. From April 7th to May
12th, across seven phases, 815m people will be eligible to cast votes in
the biggest democratic exercise on Earth. Since the previous one, in
2009, an extra 100m people have been added to the
voters’ roll. For all its cost and complications, it is expected to go
smoothly. Political parties may break limits on what they are
supposed
to spend, but elections in India are broadly clean, in the sense that
results are not rigged. Turnout is roughly the
same as in Western democracies: 60-70% of the electorate are expected
to take part in the 16th general election since independence. Nor does
anybody see a serious threat of violence, even in areas afflicted by
Maoist or other insurgents. The contrast with
bloody elections experienced by the neighbours—Pakistan, Bangladesh,
Sri Lanka, Nepal and even the Maldives—could not be more stark.
On the face of it, such a triumph is puzzling. Ask Indians about the
capacity of their state, and the typical reaction is dismissive. Much
else organised by public officials is notably shoddy: try making use of
state-run schools or hospitals, getting help from
a policeman, or relying on food-subsidy schemes. Corruption, waste,
delays and mismanagement are depressingly common. Notice, too, the
embarrassing failures of India’s navy, plagued by fatal accidents in the
past year, the prolonged lack of investment in the
national railways, or the state’s failure to build enough roads, power
lines or ports. How can India get the electoral process to work so well,
when much else is done so badly?
One answer is that elections are narrowly focused tasks of limited
duration that are regularly repeated. Where similar conditions hold,
bureaucrats prove similarly successful. One example is the ten-yearly
national census; a newer success is a scheme to build
the world’s largest biometric database, which has enrolled some 600m
people, scanning their eyes, fingerprints and more. (Whether this data
will be put to good use is another matter. It is worth noting, too, that
much work was done by private contractors overseen
by public officials.) A second answer is that state employees respond
well when given tasks of great prestige and put under careful public
scrutiny. Thus India’s space agency last year launched a spaceship to
Mars which continues on course, for a remarkably
small budget. Similarly, public-health officials recently announced
that India had eradicated polio. A third answer is that bureaucrats
succeed when free from political meddling and corruption. The Election
Commission, like the central bank, is independent.
And whereas policemen spend much of their time collecting bribes to pay
to their superiors, election officials have neither big budgets to
divert, nor much opportunity to extract bribes.
The electoral process may hold lessons that could be applied elsewhere.
One is the value of setting a simple, well-defined target. How about
next telling officials to reduce by ten places a year India’s rotten
ranking of 134th (out of 189) on the World Bank's
"ease of doing business” index? Another lesson is the importance of
transparency. It is harder for politicians to meddle and steal when
bureaucrats, like election officials, are under intense public scrutiny.
Extending the country’s right-to-information law,
however embarrassing the rot that has been exposed, has proved
immensely valuable. Last, bureaucrats become more efficient, and less
corrupt, when they lose discretionary powers. Those who organise
elections have no discretion to decide who is allowed to vote
or where; they are only supposed to ensure it all works efficiently,
leaving little incentive for people to bribe or bully them. Whoever wins
this year's election could do worse than look at the electoral process
itself as a model of how to sharpen up India's
bureaucracy.
