Money is a lubricant that helps spin the wheels of government, but most politicians are discreet about how liberally the grease gets spread around. That's why it was so shocking when three of India's opposition-party lawmakers recently took the floor of India's Parliament, unzipped a black leather bag and, with TV cameras rolling, hauled out stacks of 1,000-rupee notes. The money, they claimed, represented bribes they had been offered by allies of the country's ruling Congress Party to withhold their ballots in a crucial July 22 vote of confidence. While allegations of "suitcase politics" are nothing new in India, it just wasn't cricket to theatrically air dirty laundry in such a public forum. Afterward, Somnath Chatterjee, India's lower-house speaker, called it "a very sad day in the history of Parliament."
In fact, it has been a sad few weeks. It's often said that the world's largest democracy is also one of its messiest. But even India's jaded electorate, which is accustomed to political scandals, was stunned by the blatant horse-trading and strident mudslinging that led up to the confidence vote, which determined whether Prime Minister Manmohan Singh and his Congress Party led coalition would remain in power. The administration won by a 275-256 margin, with 10 abstentions, ensuring its survival for now. But in the run-up to the vote, including two days of acrimonious parliamentary debate that was broadcast live to the nation, Indian citizens got an unusually vivid picture of just how messy politics can be.
In Parliament, verbal exchanges frequently dissolved into shouting matches. Speeches by Singh and Rahul Gandhi, scion of India's most storied political family, were interrupted by incessant heckling. Prior to the debate, frantic lobbying for votes by numerous political organizations, including opposition parties trying to unseat Singh, produced some eyebrow-raising compromises, the details of which were widely publicized. Six members of India's Parliament, including two convicted of murder while in office, were furloughed from prison so they could cast votes (while questionable, this is not illegal). The Jharkhand Mukti Morcha, a small central Indian political party, reportedly threw the support of its five MPs behind the Congress Party after its leader was promised a top post in at least one ministry. Congress Party members characterized some of the bargains made to lock in votes as routine political log-rolling. Despite a lot of finger-pointing, there has been no proof of bribery or other wrongdoing, and certainly opposition politicians cut deals of their own. But ordinary Indians weren't mollified. Says Suman Gogi, a coach for India's national judo team: "What [lawmakers] have done over the last few days has sullied the public image of politicians and all parties alike."
Still, Singh and the Congress Party have lived to fight another day. The confidence vote was called to resolve a bitter dispute over the administration's support for a civilian nuclear-technology agreement between India and the U.S. India's two main leftist parties pulled out of Singh's coalition government over the pact, which they say makes India subservient to U.S. strategic interests. Singh, who argued nuclear power is needed for continued economic development, can now push ahead with the deal, which still needs the approval of the International Atomic Energy Agency and the U.S. Congress.
The question is: How much did the Congress Party trade away to save the nuclear accord and its political skin? The party has been positioning itself as willing to take a principled stand on important national issues. But that image-polishing may have been undermined by the swirl of allegations of backroom dealing and the dismal spectacle surrounding the confidence vote. Singh's coalition government may be secure for now, but the Congress Party will face another test next year in parliamentary elections. Politicians can only hope India's long-suffering voters are willing to turn a blind eye to the messy foibles of their elected representatives one more time.