Prime Minister Manmohan Singh is wrong. The greatest threat to India’s security is not Naxalism but corruption. The cancer of corruption is much more deadly to the nation’s body politic than the violence of Naxalism. Naxal attacks have been reported in only four per cent of the police stations in the country. Corruption is prevalent in every nook and corner of the land.

Naxalism is an aftermath of corruption. Unlike its cousins in the developed countries, Indian corruption is omnipresent, spreading its tentacles from the lowermost functionary to the most powerful in the land.

How did this monster grow to such proportions?

Power without responsibility breeds corruption, greed propels it and absence of retribution proliferates it. During the years immediately after Independence, the path of socialism which was chosen for us by the then Prime Minister Jawaharlal Nehru for achieving egalitarian growth, nurtured the poisonous plant of corruption.

The myriad licenses and controls inserted in the governing system placed in the hands of all official functionaries — both important and petty — power with which they could suborn the system and benefit those whom they wanted to favour — for a fee, of course. A totally ineffective and toothless investigation and prosecution mechanism removed the one check that could hold back the corrupt — the fear of being caught.

With Nehru turning a Nelson’s eye to the corruption of political bigwigs in the name of expediency (remember Pratap Singh Kairon), the shenanigans of the corrupt official-politician cabal went unchallenged. If, in the 80s, as the Prime Minister of India, Rajiv Gandhi could only remark woefully that the pipeline of funds from the government to the end beneficiary leaked to the extent of over 80 per cent, he was only pleading his helplessness at tackling the monster.

The lifting of many licences and controls during the economic liberalisation of 1991, of which the present PM was an architect, did close some channels for the corrupt — but did nothing to curb corruption that had by then become endemic to the system. Like the hydra, the corruption monster just sprouted more heads and learnt to exploit the new controls which were introduced, like the ones following safety, environmental and human rights legislations.

The spread of fractured politics and the Aya Ram, Gaya Ram concept of political affiliations has only served to bolster corruption, since the resultant shortened life spans of governments has provoked all players — political and administrative — to make as quick a buck as possible. Political parties of all hues have long since abandoned the fig leaf of morality, which used to cloak nefarious activities in the early years following Independence.

The Nelson’s eye of the Nehruvian days has been replaced with the “Three Monkey Dictum” (See no evil, hear no evil, speak no evil). With the opening up of Indian markets to global products, the variety of temptations for the corrupt has multiplied manifold which, in turn, has enhanced their greed. It is “free for all” now.

The pathetic attempts to curb the menace without adequate powers in the hands of the enforcers have resulted in the farce that we see today in Karnataka. The office of the Lokayukta periodically publicises a list of corrupt state government officials, who have been caught possessing wealth beyond known sources of income. Nothing much happens to these officials as the Lokayukta does not have the powers of prosecution. So, as a fresh list creates a momentary sensation in the media, the past ones are forgotten.

The public is already becoming blasé about the revelations as corruption is now a way of life in India.