READ IN COMPLETE isolation, the Representation of the People Amendment Bill is not a bad piece of legislation. But it is totally retrograde when read together with the Supreme Court's May 2 judgment on electoral reform. The proposed legislation was supposed to reflect the spirit of the Supreme Court's directive, which made it mandatory for candidates seeking election to furnish particulars about their criminal antecedents, financial assets and educational background. What it really does however is nullify the Supreme Court's May 2 judgment (and the ensuing Election Commission's order dated June 28 based on this). In fact, the draft Bill seems designed solely for this cynical and unwelcome purpose, being little more than an unconvincing ploy to evade the consequences of the E.C.'s order by dressing up some amendments to the RP Act as a comprehensive piece of legislation to check criminality in politics.

How does the draft Bill neutralise the E.C.'s order and by implication the Supreme Court's judgment? To begin with, it makes no reference to the disclosure of a candidate's financial assets and liabilities. This was central to the Supreme Court's judgment and by any reckoning forms a vital part of the information that constitutes the voter's right to know who he is casting his ballot for. The draft Bill's deafening silence on assets is a result of the extreme reluctance that politicians (of virtually every hue) have in coming clean about their financial background. The proposed legislation is also quiet about furnishing details about a candidate's educational background, though this is arguably a relatively minor omission given (among other things) the absence of any correlation between a candidate's educational status and his corruption and criminality.

On the question of acquainting a voter with a candidate's criminal past (if any), the draft Bill requires that all those accused of offences punishable with imprisonment for two years to furnish the required details. The ostensible purpose of the two-year stipulation was to avoid making it mandatory for candidates to furnish details about being charged for certain `political' crimes (such as organising demonstrations or participating in dharnas). But a specific clause which excuses candidates from filing affidavits about this class of crimes would have been far better than a general stipulation of this nature. The proposed legislation of course goes beyond the Supreme Court judgment in a significant way by the introduction of a clause which disqualifies candidates against whom charges have been filed in two separate cases for "heinous" crimes such as murder, dacoity, rape, kidnapping and those that fall under the purview of POTA or the Narcotics Act.

To the extent that it is a measure to check the entry of criminals into politics, the new disqualification provision is welcome. But it is a very limited restriction. The disqualification applies only when charges are framed for certain offences of an extremely grave nature. Moreover, it applies only when two such separate charges have been framed and prior to six months before nomination. Such conditions only serve to radically weaken the force of the provision. All in all, the provision only seems to reinforce the impression that it has been introduced to create the misimpression that a sincere attempt is being made to grapple with the problem of criminality in political life. The Supreme Court's judgment was based on the right to information, which is derived from Article 19 of the Constitution. Legislation which is aimed at denying the enforcement of a fundamental right is improper and worthy of condemnation.