Manmohan at 80: Is it time for a retirement age for politicians?

Editor’s note: On our Prime Minister’s 80th birthday, two Firspost editors, Lakshmi Chaudhry and Sandip Roy, face off on the pressing question of the day: should there be a mandatory retirement age for politicians? Lakshmi Chaudhry: Goodbye to greybeards Manmohanji is 80 years old today, and a sprightly 80 at that. For all the flak that he receives for his personality, no one complains about our venerable Prime Minister’s age.  But maybe we should. Maybe it’s time to ask the pressing question: If there is a retirement age for citizens, why should our prime minister remain exempt? Government employees are forced to retire at 60, while private companies extend the limit up to 70 for their senior-level executives. No one keeps them on even if they can still do their job. But our greying dinosaurs get to hang on forever, arguing age is no measure of their fitness to rule. M Karunanidhi is 88 and still playing the grand patriarch! LK Advani at 84 is dreaming of becoming the next Prime Minister. And neither democracy nor their party is any better for it. MMS the octogenarian is a symbol of the white-beard problem in Indian politics. And here’s why. [caption id=“attachment_469134” align=“alignleft” width=“380”]  For starters, older is not necessarily wiser, especially in Indian politics.  PTI[/caption] For starters, older is not necessarily wiser, especially in Indian politics. The more time a politician spends in our corrupt system, the more time they have to accumulate unsavoury political baggage and debts.  The old guard are also the fiercest defenders of the old ways of doing politics. An Akhilesh would most likely have a better shot at ushering in genuine change if his father was ineligible to be Prime Minster (or Chief Minister, at that). As things stand, his political career has become part-and-parcel of Mulayam’s big PM plan. The long arc of the Indian politician’s career also gives him sufficient time to pass on the political baton to his heirs — or those of others, as in MMS’ case. Could Sonia have spent ever so long grooming her son without Manmohan to buy her time? Would Tamil Nadu be saddled with Alagiris, Stalins and Kanmozhis if Karunanidhi had been pushed off-stage nearly two decades ago? An age limit may not eliminate the dynastic impulse but will surely serve to curb it. Besides, the presence of the so-called party elders allows grown men and women to pretend they are “young turks,” and spend decades making political hay in senior positions without the attendant responsibility. Here, I’m not just thinking of Rahul but also the likes of Sushma Swaraj and Arun Jaitley. The other white beard problem: It allows ageing politicians to exert a stranglehold over their own party, eliminating or sidelining younger contenders to their throne. Seniority is often a euphemism for entrenched power that has little to do with political merit. And there is no better example than Advani who won’t allow the younger guard to take their place at the helm, holding them hostage instead to his thwarted personal ambition to be PM.  Like great banyan trees, political patriarchs often destroy all that dares grow in its vicinity — except, of course, for their chosen spawn. Like everyone else, our politicians are elected to do a job. They ought to be subject to the same restraints placed on other employees. Age limits exist for a reason: to encourage the ascension of new talent, eliminate the potential for entrenched privilege, and ensure that the leadership reflects the changing times. All excellent reasons why it’s time to impose a retirement age for our political greybeards. Let them be governors, advisors, even presidents, hold ceremonial offices as reward for their long service. But the hard work of governing is best left to the relatively young. Sandip Roy: Buddah hoga tera baap The biggest problem that hamstrings the Congress party is not that it has an 80-year-old as its Prime Minister but that it is holding its breath for its 43-year old yuvraaj. And no one can say bechara Rahul Gandhi cannot shine because Manmohan Uncle refuses to let go of the spotlight. Retirement age for politicians is a red herring – it’s just one of those “level the playing field” fantasies we think of as a cure for all evils. Arguing for a retirement age for politicians, Sachin Pilot had this to say in the Times of India.

What are the reasons for people being disenchanted with our politicians? Corruption, criminalisation and the perception that the average Indian politician is a grey, unresponsive, timeless entity — an entity that will not let go off its position of power.

And how did Sachin Pilot get where he is today? As the son of Rajesh Pilot. Dynasty is a far bigger millstone around the neck of India’s democracy than graying politicians. If two-thirds  of all MPs under 40 are in it because it’s the family business, what’s a retirement age going to solve? It will exacerbate the Laloo Prasad Yadav effect even more – where a politician forced to leave active politics will just install kith and kin and rule by remote control. [caption id=“attachment_469141” align=“alignright” width=“380”]  Karunanidhi remains boss in his wheelchair.PTI[/caption] Politics, like films, and unlike most other careers, has one ultimate master – the public. If the public is willing to stomach 62-year-old Rajnikanth doing action films or 87-year-old VS Achuthanandan running for office, then who are we to deprive them of the choice by an arbitrary age limit? Sure, we should have medical tests to determine competency and announce the result (as the US President does) but age by itself cannot be a cut-off. In politics, voters want results. That might be an anti-corruption bill passed in parliament, or more bore wells in his constituency. But if they feel an older politician, with more experience and better connections, can bring home the bacon, why should they not vote for him or her? Karunanidhi remains boss in his wheelchair not out of anyone’s karuna but because he’s a wily old fox. And others enter politics in their 60s after retiring from a successful career because they feel that they can bring that expertise into public life. There are lots of names to toss around on either side of the argument. Should a Jyoti Basu have retired long before he actually did? Was a Morarji Desai at 81 more active than a snoozy Deve Gowda at 63? All that points to is the fact that age and competency vary so much from person to person that it’s hard to just arbitrarily settle on one magic number as the retirement age. Even 65 is becoming increasingly obsolete as life expectancy increases. Part of it is financial (as people live longer they drain pension and social security plans) but part of it is also the fact that rising longevity has come with healthier old age. A study by the National Academy of Sciences shows that half of the men aged 70-74 who are not working in the US have no physical impairment. India venerates old age but treats old people like crap, shunted to the back bedroom. (And that until the teenaged son needs his own bedroom.) I remember meeting an old man at a senior day care center in Mumbai who said he came there every day to play carom because there was literally no place for him at home post-retirement. The daughter-in-law told him “Why don’t you just go sit in the temple?” If politics is one area where seniors still retain some clout, more power to them. It’s not that grey politicians favour older people in their policies. Elder care here lags far behind other countries. Politics is a cut throat business, all about the survival of the fittest. We should stop complaining that our veterans are too old and unfit to serve AND that they are too strong to dislodge from the gaddi. Sorry, we can’t have it both ways. Happy birthday, Manmohan Singh.