Wednesday, January 18, 2012

The magic number...



INDIA’S economy might be thriving, but many of its people are not. This week Manmohan Singh, the prime minister, said his compatriots should be ashamed that over two-fifths of their children are underfed. They should be outraged, too, at the infant mortality, illiteracy, lack of clean drinking water and countless other curses that afflict the poor.

Poverty has many causes, and no simple cure. But one massive problem in India is that few poor people can prove who they are. They have no passport, no driving licence, no proof of address. They live in villages where multitudes share the same name. Their lack of an identity excludes them from the modern economy. They cannot open bank accounts, and no one would be so foolish as to lend them money.

The government offers them all kinds of welfare, but because they lack an identity, they struggle to lay hands on what they have been promised. The state spends a fortune on subsidised grain for the hungry, but an estimated two-thirds of it is stolen or adulterated by middlemen. The government pays for an $8 billion-a-year make-work scheme for the rural poor, but much of the cash ends up in the capacious pockets of officials who invent imaginary “ghost workers”.

Suppose those thieving middlemen were obliged to deliver grain, not to poor people in general but to named individuals who could confirm receipt by scanning their fingerprints? And suppose those ghost workers had to undergo an iris scan before being paid? If poor Indians each had an identity number tied to unique biometric markers, it would be much harder for the powerful to rob them. Sceptics will scoff that the Indian government is far too incompetent to implement such a scheme. But the sceptics are wrong.

ID-ing the benefits

This month India’s unique identity (UID) scheme will enroll its 200 millionth member, having had almost none only a year ago (see article). By the end of this year, says Nandan Nilekani, a former software mogul who runs the project, the tally could stand at 400m, a third of all Indians. The scheme is voluntary, but the poor are visibly enthusiastic about it. Long lines wait patiently in the heat to have their fingerprints and irises scanned and entered into what has swiftly become the world’s largest biometric database.

For the poor, having a secure online identity alters their relationship with the modern world. No more queueing for hours in a distant town and bribing officials with money you don’t have to obtain paperwork that won’t be recognised if you move to another state looking for work. A pilot project just begun in Jharkhand, an eastern state, will link the new identities to individuals’ bank accounts. Those to whom the government owes money will soon be able to receive it electronically, either at a bank or at a village shop. Ghost labourers staffing public-works schemes, and any among India’s 20m government employees, should turn into thin air. The middlemen who steal billions should more easily be bypassed or caught.

That is just the start. Armed with the system, India will be able to rethink the nature of its welfare state, cutting back on benefits in kind and market-distorting subsidies, and turning to cash transfers paid directly into the bank accounts of the neediest. Hundreds of millions of the poor must open bank accounts, which is all to the good, because it will bind them into the modern economy. Care must be taken so mothers rather than feckless fathers control funds for their children. But most poor people, including anyone who wants to move around, will be better off with cash welfare paid in full. Vouchers for medical or education spending could follow.

Companies—and their customers—stand to gain from the system too. Mr Nilekani talks of India stealing a march on other countries if firms have an easy, secure way of identifying their customers. Banks will be more likely to lend money to people they can trace. Mobile-phone firms will extend credit. Insurers will offer lower rates, because they will know more about the person they are covering. Medical records will become portable, as will school records. Ordinary Indians will find it easier to buy and sell things online, as ordinary Chinese already do. Just as America’s Global Positioning System, designed for aiming missiles, is now used by everyone for civilian navigation and online maps, so might UID become the infrastructure for India’s commercial services.

They’ve got your number

India’s scheme holds three lessons for other countries. One is that designing such a scheme as a platform for government services, not security, keeps the costs down and boosts the benefits. Another is to use the private sector. From the start, Mr Nilekani harnessed the genius of Indians abroad, including a man who helped the New York Stock Exchange crunch its numbers and one of the brains behind WebMD, an American health IT firm. Both public and private actors (mostly tech firms that enroll participants and process data) are paid strictly by results. The cost of enrolling each person is a little over 100 rupees ($2). Many other poor countries could afford that.

And the third is that, alas, even a brilliant idea has enemies. India’s stubborn home minister, P. Chidambaram, is now blocking a cabinet decision to extend the UID’s mandate, which is needed for the roll-out to continue. Parliamentarians and activists have raised worries over India’s lack of strong privacy and data-protection laws; they also complain about the weak legal basis for the scheme.

These complaints have some validity, but not enough to derail the scheme. For instance, India plainly needs better data-protection laws, but even if the existing rules remained unchanged, the threat to liberty would be dwarfed by the gains to welfare: to people who live ten to a room, concerns about privacy sound outlandish. Some of the resistance is principled, but much comes from the people who do well out of today’s filthy system. Indian politics hinge on patronage—the doling out of opportunities to rob one’s countrymen. UID would make this harder. That is why it faces such fierce opposition, and why it could transform India.

Strategic Relationship



“Strategic relationship” is one of the most frequently used phrases in foreign policy discussions today, but perhaps one of the least understood. Scholars have traced its appearance in international relations to the end of the Cold War. Countries that were until then arranged in blocs allied to one of the two superpowers suddenly found themselves on their own and began to cast about for new bilateral alliances, usually with states more powerful than themselves.
Nations define their relations with other countries variously — partnership, alliance — but when two countries describe their relations as strategic, their ties are deemed to have risen to a new level.

In the last decade, India has signed strategic partnership agreements with over a dozen countries. This is seen as a natural consequence of India's arrival on the global stage as a growing economic power; the acknowledgement of its democracy and its shared values with the democratic world; its neighbourhood, with the Afpak region on one side, China on the other; as well as it having the second largest population in the world.

Defining the concept

But foreign policy wonks are still struggling to define the concept — what exactly does it mean? The Oxford Dictionary defines strategic as anything relating to long term interests and goals; a strategic partnership, by extension, would relate to long term shared interests and ways of achieving them.

Strategic partnerships are commonly associated with defence or security related issues, but a survey of formal strategic partnerships around the world reveal they can also be quite a hold-all, covering a wide range in bilateral relations, from defence to education, health and agriculture, and quite commonly, economic relations, including trade, investment and banking.

Some scholars of international relations theory have argued against a set definition, arguing that each agreement belongs to a specific time and context, and thus has its own meaning. Some have even argued that the phrase is nothing more than nomenclature, and parties use it to project a higher status to their ties.

Assessment study

The latest attempt to better understand the concept comes from a New Delhi-based think tank, the Foundation for National Security Research. A study conducted by the organisation assesses India's strategic partnerships, and has sought to identify what New Delhi should seek from these partnerships, thus aiming to provide a home-grown definition of the king of bilateral relations. Titled “India's Strategic Partners: A Comparative Assessment,” it was carried out by a group of foreign policy and strategic analysts associated with FNSR, which shared the findings with The Hindu .

Specifically, the study has assessed India's strategic partnership with six countries — United States; Russia; France; United Kingdom; Germany; and Japan — by grading them on the dividends these partnerships have yielded for India in three areas of co-operation: political-diplomatic ties; defence ties; and economic relations. Using these three parameters, each partnership has been graded on a 10-point scale for present performance, sustainability, and potential.

The Russia-India partnership comes up tops on the scale — Russia consistently backs India on Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan and terrorism, and according to the study “is most comfortable with India's rise” while sharing Indian “concerns on the implications of China's rise”. On nuclear issues, its 2009 India-Russia civilian nuclear pact is much better than the deal that New Delhi got from United States. Defence co-operation too is in good health. India sources most of its military hardware from Russia. But of all the six countries Russia scores least on trade relations. The total annual trade between the two countries is just slightly over $5 billion.

U.S. comes second

The United States, with which India's strategic partnership goes back to 2004, comes second, having fared poorly on FNSR's political-diplomatic scale. The study describes U.S. support for India on Kashmir, Pakistan, Afghanistan as “insubstantial and inconsistent”. It sees U.S. support for India's candidature to the U.N. Security Council as the “weakest” among the six nations. In contrast to Russia, India-U.S. trade relations are the best, with greater potential for the future.

The study sees the 2006 strategic partnership with Japan as the least developed, making only 34 points. Japan's support for India in international fora has varied, the study points out grimly, and notes that while there is scope for co-operation in maritime security, Japan's lack of interest in India's concerns over Kashmir and terrorism, its deep reservations on nuclear co-operation with India and a limited capacity to play a meaningful role in India's UNSC bid “would suggest that the potential in their strategic relationship will be slow to realise”. There is “virtually nothing to say about India-Japan defence ties” in the past, the study notes, and not much for the future either. As for trade, it could be much higher.

The conclusion: India should not bestow the “respectable nomenclature” of a strategic partner on one and all, but only on those countries with which there is “a strong and mutually beneficial relationship” in all three sectors — political-diplomatic; defence and economic co-operation. For India's so-called strategic agreements with a host of other countries, the study suggests finding a “less serious” nomenclature.

What the study ignores is that India's main “strategic partners” have other strategic partners. Welcome to the big, bad promiscuous world of international relations. The most glaring example of how strategic partnerships collide with each other is the U.S.-India partnership on the one hand, and the U.S.-Pakistan one on the other. Should India ditch its partnership with Russia if there is a chance it will improve the strategic content of the partnership with the U.S.?

Balancing conflicting interests

In reality, how a strategic partnership evolves has much to do with how successfully one or both parties balance the conflicting interests of its various partners, and keep differences to a minimum. It sounds unrealistic to lay down the line to other actors and expect them to behave as if they have no other interests.

In fact, it says something about strategic partnerships that the U.S. has such deals going all across the world. But it has no formal strategic partnership agreement with its most important strategic partner, Europe, and its relationship with Britain is described as just “essential”, or “special”