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Cooling off
The politician-bureaucrat chumminess is something to worry about.
Deepak Thapa
Those keeping up with the various twists and turns of the saga would agree there has been a ‘will-it-won’t-it’ edge to parliament’s attempt to force bureaucrats to take a two-year break after leaving government service in order to become eligible for state appointments. After years of to-ing and fro-ing and over serious objections from the top brass of the civil servants, it appeared that the politicians had finally prevailed. Or, so it seemed.
Consider these news items from this newspaper. On May 17, 2025, the headline went “Federal Civil Service Bill moves on after deal at parliamentary panel” with the dek reading, “Retirement age raised, cooling-off period set. Bill lays ground for administrative federalism”. That was followed by “Top bureaucrats lobby to scrap bill’s cooling-off clause” on May 23. For a month there was silence. Then, on June 20, came “Fresh setback in civil service bill’s progress over cooling-off time” with the story being that the afore-mentioned bureaucrats appear to have made some headway in persuading Prime Minister KP Sharma Oli into rethinking the provision.
The question of instituting a cooling-off period for civil servants has had some measure of support across the board. A story from some months ago, headlined “Experts recommend ‘cooling-off period’ for retired bureaucrats seeking constitutional positions” cited three experts who called strongly for such a restriction. Although it was not mentioned in the news item, that all three of them had themselves been top bureaucrats added further weight to their views. Of course, in all fairness, it can be argued that the trio could afford to come out in support of “cooling-off” since it would not affect them either way.
Bureaucrat-turned-arbiter
Had such a provision been enacted that would certainly not have been the case with the recently retired chief secretary, Lila Devi Gadtaula. In an interview in March earlier this year, she said that while doing some stock-taking, she had found that there were just seven of her former colleagues engaged in different government bodies. Although she had counted only those serving in constitutional commissions and not included other political appointees and ambassadorships, she perhaps had a point when she asked: “The average number of former bureaucrats-turned office bearers at a time could be around 10. Should the state keep on changing laws for as many as 10 people?”
No matter what the eventual outcome is, Gadtaula was lucky that she escaped any proscription that may have been built into law. Just days before the lower house’s State Affairs and Good Governance Committee finalised the civil service bill for tabling before parliament, she found herself nominated to lead the Commission of Investigation on Enforced Disappeared Persons. That is exactly the kind of politician-bureaucrat chumminess that the proposed change is meant to prevent.
It is standard practice in many parts of the world to fall back on the large pool of civil servants to head this committee or lead that investigation. The years of experience with the government and its sometimes-arcane procedures make them the most suitable candidates for such appointments. So, what argument do politicians have in favour of a cooling-off period?
We can take the representative example of Hridya Ram Thani, a veteran Nepali Congress lawmaker who is among its most vocal proponents. In an interview given after Oli’s having seemingly developed cold feet, Thani was quite blunt in his views: “In Nepal’s context, the link between politicians and the bureaucracy has to be severed…Only two of the chief secretaries completed their terms. Others were told to resign and sent off, as ambassadors, as something. The practice here is, I will appoint you to some position if you do something for me.”
The Committee chair, Ram Hari Khatiwada, is equally forthright: “If politicians and the civil servants seeking a new appointment the very next day after retirement work in collusion, that will undermine the very spirit of the federal constitution.”
As if on cue, back in the limelight has come Shanker Das Bairagi once again. Bairagi is famous for having quit as chief secretary in 2023 to make way for Baikunth Aryal, who was retiring the very next day, in exchange for being kicked upstairs to become the till-then non-existent National Security Adviser. (Although eventually absolved of all charges, Aryal set a record of sort by becoming the first sitting chief secretary to be suspended from office after being indicted for corruption.) The same Bairagi has been tapped to head the inquiry into the “visit visa scam” which has the potential of dragging in the powerful Home Minister, Ramesh Lekhak. Even without taking recourse to Thani’s and Khatiwada’s words above, one would find it quite difficult to repose any hope that the probe led by a blue-eyed boy of the politicians will unearth anything substantive that would implicate his political masters.
Barking up the wrong tree?
The global practice behind cooling-off policies is to somewhat slow down the revolving door between the private sector and the government. Even in India, there is a year-long prohibition after leaving the government, but only for taking up private sector employment. The current Foreign Minister of India, S Jaishankar, famously sought and received a waiver, and joined the Tata group within months of retiring as foreign secretary.
I guess it says a lot about the state of our economy that the current proposal on the cooling-off period is linked only to government appointments whereas it should have been equally applicable to joining NGOs and INGOs, bi- and multilateral institutions along with private firms. There appear to be no worthwhile jobs outside of what the state offers, and hence no one has felt the need to include those as well within the conflict-of-interest clause of the civil service bill.
One of the arguments used by the bureaucrats is that such a provision unfairly targets them since it does not apply to those from, say, the security services. It is a credible argument, and perhaps similar prohibitions should be placed on all government services and include a cooling-off period for government servants joining political parties as well. For there is no reason to believe that the situations outlined by Thani and Khatiwada will not be applicable to bureaucrats with political ambitions.
Most importantly, so long as the parliament is talking about conflict of interest, what is well overdue is one that binds them to the highest ethical standards. A start could be made with ensuring that membership of parliamentary committees is strictly reserved to those with zero conflicts of interest on matters debated within the said committees. That, I am sure, is easier said than done but would be a good quid pro quo by politicians to show the civil servants and the public at large.