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Monday 8 September 2014

Spinners need intelligent, trusting captains to thrive


V Ramnarayan in Cricinfo


Anil Kumble set a fine example as captain in managing the slow bowlers  © AFP
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To consistently give their best, bowlers need their captains to have confidence in them. This is particularly true of spinners, who must rely on craft and cunning more than the quicker bowlers do. Rarely do we come across spin bowlers thriving under captains who do not believe in their ability or have an inadequate understanding of their trade.
For starters, the better captains allow at least four or five overs for the spinner to settle into an even rhythm. This is the time the bowler takes to ensure that every ball lands where he wants it to, before he can launch into any variations. Some of the greatest spinners in the game have been known to attempt nothing dramatic during this period. 
Only once he has found his length will the sensible bowler try out variations of flight and turn. He is aware of the subtle variations inherent in deliveries, even without his attempting them; no human can actually bowl six identical balls, though they may look similar to the naked eye. A good captain therefore starts with a fairly defensive field, and brings his men in only after the bowler has found his groove.
In contrast, not only do some bowlers, even at the international level, appear to try too many tricks too soon, some captains too expect their bowlers to start attacking from the word go, impatient with the relative lack of flight and turn in the early overs. The result can be overpitching, or bowling rank short balls, or bowling down the wrong line altogether, giving the batsman free runs and a bonus dose of confidence.
The ideal delivery by a spinner has the batsman playing forward but unable to reach the ball, the arc caused by the spin dropping the ball just short and deflecting it in a direction not intended by the batsman. The genuine spinner hates it when the batsman can play him off the back foot, a much more damaging prospect than being driven off the front foot.
While close catchers on either side of the wicket are essential for the bowler to have any impact on the batsman, the rest of the field is just as crucial to the effectiveness of the bowler, as we all know. In addition to slip (and gully) for the legspinner, or forward (and backward) short-leg for the offspinner, short extra cover and short midwicket are excellent attacking positions, ready to hold on to miscued drives. To a right-hand batsman, a sweeper on the off side for an offspinner, or a deep midwicket for a legspinner would indicate either a criminal lack of confidence on the part of the bowler or complete ignorance on the part of the captain and/or the bowler.
The question of who sets the field, the bowler or his captain, is something we hear discussed in the commentary box, and my view is that the bowler must bowl to his captain's field, assuming that the captain knows what he is doing.
This is where it is handy to have experienced bowlers in the side, because they can save the captain the trouble of setting their field, unless the captain is shortsighted enough to overrule the bowler who knows his bowling, and imposes his own views on him.
With young or inexperienced bowlers, however, the onus is on the captain to decide the line of attack, guide the bowler and set the field appropriate to the bowler, batsman, wicket, or state of the innings.
Mansur Ali Khan Pataudi and Ajit Wadekar - each in his own distinct way - were captains who knew how to bring out the best in their spinners. In his first stint as India captain, Pataudi was young and inexperienced, but by the time the new crop of spinners (soon to become known as the quartet) came into the side in 1967, he was five years old in the job, and I suspect had gained much practical wisdom in the company of such captains in the South Zone as V Subramanya of Karnataka and ML Jaisimha of Hyderabad. The famed close-in cordon of the Indian team perhaps had its origins there. Wadekar's captaincy was shaped in a relatively defensive mode, but when he took over from Pataudi in 1971, he had the advantage of leading a highly experienced combination of spinners, who helped deliver India's first series victories in the West Indies and England.
In the decades that followed, captains from Bishan Bedi down to Rahul Dravid led spin attacks in varying degrees of efficacy and different styles of handling, but I am partial to the manner in which Anil Kumble marshalled his spin resources, thanks to his superior domain knowledge. I believe he was the best when it came to managing the slow men. Unfortunately, the Indian captaincy came to him late in his career. After all, the idea of a bowler-captain is not the most popular theory around.

Saturday 6 September 2014

Failing the Tebbit test - Difficulties in supporting the England cricket team

by Girish Menon





The article by second generation British writer Kishan Koria applying the 'cricket test' to examine the behaviour of Britons of Asian origin was interesting and revelatory but it may be a case of blaming the victim and not the perpetrator. So, I am going to raise some issues which are never raised in the politics of Tebbit's followers. 
Firstly, why should it be a natural assumption that if you have resided in England for years you must support the English cricket team? If England's home advantage against India is reduced to fixing the pitch to suit its bowlers then so be it. The English cricket team must earn the support of the ticket buyers with its acts on and off the pitch.
The spectator in a cricket match has paid a high price to be there. That s/he should cheer for the England cricket team was never a condition of the contract. She is a free agent and can support whoever she pleases. 
The manner in which the English cricket establishment has treated players like Pietersen and Panesar gives the outsider an impression that they don't care about the views of their followers in any case. I'm sure even Bopara may be surprised at the number of times he has been in and out of the England team. 
The cricket blog The Full Toss has often highlighted the uncaring way the ECB deals with the supporters of the English cricket team. So, will it not be natural for cricket lovers to express their disgust in manifold ways? 
As far as citizenship in a land goes so long as residents pay taxes and obey the laws of the land then they are free to do what they like with the rest of their lives. This is usually the argument of free marketers like Tebbit, so why then do they wish to deny choice to these consumers of cricketainment with the nanny state telling them who to support in a cricket match? 
So, the likes of the ECB should be happy that it is the English citizens of Indian origin who are putting the bums on stadia seats and the brown pounds in their coffers. Many English bums (pun unintended) stay away from cricket stadia for a variety of reasons  including ticket prices, poor team selection policies etc. Hence the ECB should not further risk their luck by telling these high fare paying spectators who to support. Instead they should earn their support by fair minded policies and listening to the voices of their dwindling support base.

Personally, I fail the Tebbit test every time England play India and I have been unable to understand why. This is funny because in my growing years I supported the Mumbai team against other Indian teams even though my parents were immigrants from the state of Kerala (far away from Mumbai), and despite there always existing  a violent campaign against immigrants in Mumbai. 
It maybe out of alienation in a land where me and my family's future fortune lies. It maybe the jingoism in the highly conservative media. It maybe the 'institutional racism' referred to in the Macpherson report. It may be the 'barging of Gavaskar by Snow'; the negative lines bowled by Giles; the Zaheer Khan jelly beans incident; the failure to criticise Anderson for his foul mouthed pronouncements in the quest for victory; the failure to understand the invalidity of the predicted path in a DRS while castigating the non believer as a Luddite; or invoking the spirit of cricket argument selectively.  As for the booing of Moeen Ali, a fine prospect, to my mind this appears to be a continuation of the Indo-Pak rivalry which has been carried forward by the diaspora. 
However, I have also noticed periods when I begin to like the English team but then something happens and the old English superiority biases surface in the commentariat and I am driven once again to dislike the team, probably wrongly, probably not due to the players' actions. But, most importantly, the overriding reason is the brand of cricket the team plays. I have for long been a fan of the Pietersen, Botham and Gower brand of English cricket. But, so long as the clones of Boycott and Tavare dominate the approach to batting it is a trifle difficult to stay awake let alone support the England team. 

Friday 5 September 2014

Operation “Get Nawaz Sharif”


Najam Sethi
Najam Sethi  TFT Issue: 05 Sep 2014


Operation “Get Nawaz Sharif”



The “conspiracy” to get rid of Prime Minister Nawaz Sharif has been exposed. Although the circumstantial evidence was compelling, no one, not even the government and parliament, had hard-core facts to prove who was doing what and why. That’s why the government’s political and administrative response to the unfolding crisis was confused, weak and vacillating. Then the Heavens parted and Pakistan Tehrik-e-Insaf President Javed Hashmi descended like an angel to “save” the government by making a clean breast of things. The story can now be stitched up safely.
The old guard in the military left behind by General Ashfaq Kayani – a master spy who occupied both high offices in ISI and GHQ by turns and fashioned the military’s strategic policies for over a decade – was unhappy with the proposed foreign policy initiatives of Nawaz Sharif towards India, Afghanistan, USA, and his stance on non-state actor “assets” and the war against the Pakistani Taliban. Mr Sharif’s choice of General Raheel Sharif as COAS, number three in the lineup and totally apolitical to boot, also queried their pitch. The dye was cast when Mr Sharif hauled up ex-army chief General Pervez Musharraf for treason because this move threatened to drag in General Kayani and many other senior military officers who had backed the coup maker. It was also feared that, come October 2014, when several key generals from the “Kayani guard” would face retirement, Mr Sharif would appoint another relatively apolitical general to the powerful DG-ISI post, thereby seizing the “national security” initiative from the military. It may be recalled that the fear was not unjustified: on two previous occasions as prime minister, Mr Sharif had taken exactly such steps when he sacked Lt Gen Asad Durrani in 1991 and appointed Lt Gen Javed Nasir as DG-ISI and when he appointed Lt Gen Ziauddin Butt as DG-ISI in his second stint as prime minister and later tried to make him COAS and triggered a coup by General Musharraf.
According to the Kayani doctrine, a serious “threat” of a coup is a better instrument of military policy than a coup itself because coups can be messy business in this day and age with a weak economy, an independent judiciary, ubiquitous media, obstreperous civil society institutions and bullying international state and non-state actors. Far better, they say, to pull strings via the military’s intelligence agencies from behind the political scenes and achieve the required objectives by pitting one actor against another and bringing things to such a pass that a coup seems like a real possibility. This is exactly how Gen Kayani brought the Zardari regime to heel on foreign policy and the war against terrorism on matters such as relations with India, USA and Afghanistan, Kerry-Lugar Bill, Memogate, etc. And this is exactly how his remnants wanted to deal with Nawaz Sharif when he threatened to disrupt or disown their doctrines.
Accordingly, a plan was hatched to oust Nawaz Sharif, with the threat of a coup, and before October when some of the key conspirators were due to retire. On the one hand, Imran Khan and Tahir ul Qadri, two desperadoes dying to become prime minister by hook or by crook, were roped in with the assistance of evergreen military “assets” like Sheikh Rashid, the Chaudhries of Gujrat and notorious elements in the media. On the other hand, potential oppositionists in the media like the Geo-Jang group were attacked and put down, while Supreme Court judges were scared off from interventionism by an attack from Imran Khan on ex-CJPs Iftikhar Mohammad Chaudhry and Tassaduq Hussain Jilani and ex-CEC Fakhruddin G Ibrahim. The pretext of a “rigged and polluted” election was perfect because in one fell swoop all potential oppositionists were routed at the hands of the country’s leading “populist” forces in the shape of Imran Khan and Tahir ul Qadri. Unfortunately, both Geo and PMLN played into the hands of the conspirators by outraging the nation, the first by directly targeting the DG of an “esteemed national security institution” like the ISI and the second by precipitating a bloody crisis in Model Town, Lahore.
Fortunately, three things went wrong for the conspirators. First, the million-strong crowds didn’t materialize. Second, the scared government didn’t resort to further violent measures to stop the marchers, thereby denying a pretext for Mr Sharif’s head as in the case of Shahbaz Sharif. Third, just when things seemed to be slipping out of the government’s hand, Javed Hashmi came along to spill the beans, expose the mala fides of the conspirators and galvanise parliament and civil society to unite behind the prime minister.
Mr Sharif has made errors of judgment and policy that have weakened him considerably. Imran Khan has been exposed as a “match-fixer”. The conspiratorial rogues have been identified. Only General Raheel Sharif has come out looking reasonably good. Along with PM Sharif, he needs to help restore Geo and the credibility of all those unfairly targeted by the conspirators and build a trust-worthy civil-military relationship.

The unquestioning loyalty of the cricket nut

Russell Jackson in Cricinfo 


Innovations like LED bails may come and go. Fans may frown at it, but they will continue watching  © Getty Images
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Many moons ago, during my university years, I had my first and last commerce-based epiphany while sitting through a marketing lecture. The speaker, whose name, voice and face I couldn't place if I tried, started talking about the way in which the Harley Davidson motorcycle company essentially had a huge portion of their customers in the palm of their hand because these diehard riders and motorbike enthusiasts displayed what marketers called "loyalty beyond reason".
This meant that no matter how the company behaved, how tacky the licensing deals they pursued or how ubiquitous their brand name became, the lifestyle that surrounded their product and the emotional pull of their bikes for rusted-on diehards was too strong for those customers to resist or abandon. The Apple brand is now probably a more salient example, such is the unquestioning faith a huge number of their customers place in both the brand and the cult of Steve Jobs.
At the time, this idea of loyalty beyond reason made me question whether there were people or ideals or products that I clung to with unquestioning faith. Thinking as loftily of myself as university are wont to do, I concluded that I was a person of intellectual fortitude and couldn't be pushed around and told what to think. In hindsight, not only was this wrong but it was a supremely ironic thing to think as I sat bored stiff in a lecture theatre, partaking in one of life's great symbolic rituals of conformity and fulfillment of parental expectation.
What I failed to admit then was that my almost daily displays of loyalty beyond reason are tied to sport. Cricket primarily, but also Australian Rules football, basketball, tennis, soccer, and any number of other essentially trivial events around which I organise my entire life and to which I've devoted the lion's share of my discretionary waking hours.
Maybe you're a little like me and think that your cynicism and finely-tuned worldview acts as a shield to the avarice, corruption and simmering sense of discontent that characterize modern sport but I'd follow up the establishment of that point by asking you how many times you've sat and watched these sports in the last two weeks. In my head I can tick off a checklist of many ills that have blighted cricket in the last ten years and many more reasons for which a perfectly reasonable person could abandon the sport and take up a new hobby. I don't though because they've got me by the balls.
It makes me wonder just how bad cricket could get before I stopped watching it. That's no insult to the game in its current form because I love it as I always have, but the last ten years have proven that all of the subtle shifts in the landscape have a cumulative effect of altering the game markedly and not always for the better
I'll probably end up paying $400 for a World Cup final ticket, I'll upgrade my pay-TV subscription so I can watch a meaningless 10-game ODI tournament and I'll probably even buy the reissued 1992 Zimbabwe World Cup shirt because I'm a cricket nuffy. I decry the gauche incursion of monster trucks on the Big Bash League but then I'll go ahead and watch nearly every single game of the tournament. My loyalty goes beyond reason, as yours might too, and the marketing people know it. They could drive the monster trucks onto the ground mid-over and I'll keep watching.
In a way it makes me wonder just how bad cricket could get before I stopped watching it. That's no insult to the game in its current form because I love it as I always have, but the last ten years have proven that all of the subtle shifts in the landscape have a cumulative effect of altering the game markedly and not always for the better. By the time I'm 70 years old there might be no suitable willow left to make bats so they'll use aluminum ones or some composite fibre that hasn't even been invented yet. India, England and Australia might be the only teams playing in ICC events. The ICC might have been disbanded. Grounds might be half the size and the spectacle unrecognisable to what we see today, but it will still be called cricket and therefore I'll still be watching it.
This fan dilemma plays out elsewhere obviously. Hardened football fans who romanticise about the away days at ramshackle suburban pitches of the '70s might be physically repulsed by the obscene wages paid to English Premier League players and the ludicrous cost of a seat at the new mega-stadia, but mostly they keep watching, reading and forking out their dough to take part. Sport lovers are like those Harley Davidson-riding bikies and not just in a tribal sense, the love of these games that lives within them is as crucial to the beating of their hearts as the atrial septum.
One thing I would say is that for me sport has never stood in the way of maintaining a healthy amount of interpersonal relationships, but increasingly I find that it fills most other crevices of life. I'm more resigned to this than chastened or sad, but there are times when you've got to question that level of loyalty. I'll probably just wait until the cricket has finished though.

Arun Shourie on disinvestment in his times and the current CBI investigation

Written by Arun Shourie in The Indian Express| September 5, 2014 8:04 am

CBI move to investigate the disinvestment of Udaipur’s Laxmi Vilas hotel on the basis of an anonymous oral complaint, 12 years after the decision, holds a lesson for those who are trying to get the bureaucracy going.

Hindustan Zinc was privatised in April 2002. The privatisation was challenged on various grounds in the Supreme Court. In December 2012, after hearing counsel, the SC rejected the challenge.

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Also read 




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That did not deter the CBI. In February 2014 — TWELVE years after the disinvestment, and with HARDLY A YEAR having passed since the SC delivered its judgment — the CBI launched a new “investigation” into the disinvestment. 

When its officers came to me, I asked them about the complaint on the basis of which they had commenced the investigation. They said that there had been nothing in writing, just an oral complaint!

The same pattern has now been repeated in the case of the disinvestment of Laxmi Vilas Hotel in Udaipur. The hotel was disposed of in 2002. Of the ITDC’s 20-odd hotels, this one had distinguished itself by incurring the highest loss: to earn gross revenue of Rs 2 crore a year, the hotel spent Rs 3 crore — a loss of 51 per cent. The occupancy rate of the hotel had fallen to 26 per cent. Far from being a luxury palace, the place was in shambles — the plant and machinery were defunct, the furniture, etc were in the sorriest state that you can imagine. This will be evident from two elementary facts. ELEVEN parties expressed an initial interest in bidding for the hotel. FIVE of them carried out thorough due diligence. Such was the condition of the property that four of the five dropped out. I am informed that Bharat Hotels — the winning bidder — had to spend Rs 25 to 30 crore on renovating the place and getting its plant and machinery in working order. Furthermore, the quality of the staff was such that Bharat Hotels had to spend another Rs 3 to 5 crore on voluntary retirement schemes.

TWELVE years after the disinvestment, the CBI has registered an FIR — naming, among others, the then secretary of the disinvestment ministry and accusing him, among other things, of “dishonestly and fraudulently and with mala fide intention” doing this, that and the other. On what basis? The FIR itself states that it has been registered on the basis of “an anonymous complaint”. I will come in a moment to the utter indefensibles that mar the FIR, but the first point to consider is: Should any agency have the authority to harass civil servants for decisions taken 12 years ago? Should it have the power to ruin the reputation of civil servants and to put them to endless trouble 10 years after they have retired? Should it have the power to ruin people’s reputations on the basis of “anonymous complaints” and “oral complaints”?

One of the main objectives of the prime minister, and key to the other objectives he has in mind, is to energise the bureaucracy. Which is the civil servant who will take decisions, who will accept responsibility, who will stick his neck out, if 12 years from now, 10 years after he has retired, when he has no access to lawyers or records, he is going to be hauled up by sundry inspectors and SPs of the CBI?


Courts of no consequence

Nor does the parallel with Hindustan Zinc end there. That privatisation had been challenged and the challenge was rejected by the SC. The privatisation of this hotel too was challenged — and that challenge too was rejected, this time by the Rajasthan High Court. And the central ground on which the privatisation was challenged, and the ground that was decisively rejected by the high court, is the very ground on which the FIR focuses — a ground to which I shall revert in a moment. But first, the question that arises from that simple fact of rejection by the courts: when a high court has upheld a sequence of decisions, when the SC itself has done so, should an agency such as the CBI be able to open the matter yet again and start harassing officers and others?

And to open it TWELVE years after a decision has been taken? Shouldn’t there be a period of limitation?


Ruined reputations

Nor is it just a matter of harassment, though that is bad enough. No one who has not been put through the mill can imagine the strain and distress to which the person and his family are subjected by such inquisitions and “raids”. What about the irreparable damage to the person’s reputation? What bunkum did the CBI not put out just the other day about two distinguished civil servants, C.B. Bhave and P.C. Parakh? And what has it said now, while closing the cases against them? Should the CBI not be made to pay for the calumny it had hurled?

But I do feel that in this regard others also are at fault — the press, civil servants as a group and even the victims.

Has the CBI not somersaulted a sufficient number of times for the press to realise that it must not swallow and propagate what such agencies put out?

And the civil servants — haven’t they seen a sufficient number of times how they have themselves behaved in the wake of investigations against their colleagues? The moment the CBI says it has commenced an inquiry against X, his erstwhile colleagues treat him as a leper. Till yesterday, he was your colleague and friend, and now you avoid him. Shame on such colleagues and friends! That is no way to be: on the contrary, we must be fortresses around the honest, and all the more so around one who has been a colleague and friend, and of whose competence and integrity we have had personal knowledge.
And the victims — they are so easily felled, most of all by the apprehension that their reputation has been ruined. Such agencies and their concocted FIRs can ruin our reputation. Being calumnised by the dishonest is actually a badge of honour! I address audiences once a week or so. On these occasions, as is custom, the hosts use superlatives to introduce me — the positions I have held, the awards that have been given me, the books I have written… When my turn comes, I always say, “But the organisers have left out my two main distinctions. First, I am the only editor who has been dismissed from his job, not once but twice. Second, I have what none of you have — I am the only one here who has three certificates of honesty from the CBI.” So: thicker skins and a little contempt for the calumners!


The hotel

And now a few points about the hotel that is the subject of the new FIR.
The CBI has put out that the actual value of the property was Rs 151 crore, and government sold it for Rs 7.5 crore.

To substantiate that Rs 151 crore figure, the CBI says that the Rajasthan government itself had asked Bharat Hotels — the company that won the bid — to pay Rs 15 crore as stamp duty. True to character, the CBI conceals the fact that this demand, made by the local officer, has been stayed by the courts!

Next, it says that the hotel has 29 acres of land. It conceals the fact that this land, being adjacent to the lake, falls within the Coastal Regulation Zone and that nothing can be built on it. I am told that Bharat Hotels sought permission to add some rooms. And that the municipality refused permission on the ground that the land falls within the Coastal Regulation Zone. I am told that a case is currently before the SC against establishments that have constructed or added to structures along the lakeshore. Bharat Hotels has NOT been arraigned in the case.

But assume for a moment that, in spite of the regulations and in spite of the refusal of permission by the municipality, Bharat Hotels has built additional accommodation.
In that case, Bharat Hotels and the persons with whose connivance it has built the additional accommodation should be arraigned — not the disinvestment process and those who were associated with it.

Moreover, such absurd figures were the gravamen of the grounds on which the disinvestment was challenged. While rejecting them, the court rightly pointed out that a buyer does not buy assets in the abstract. He buys them for their business potential, that in the instant case he was buying not assets but shares of a company considering their earning potential.

There is another telling point. I am not sure if the CBI investigators remember that 10 per cent of the shares of the ITDC, the government company that owned the hotel, were owned by none other than the Indian Hotels Company of the Tata Group. It was compensated for its equity at exactly the same rate that the government got from the disinvestment. Had the property been worth Rs 151 crore, would the Tata Group — a private company, answerable to its shareholders — have accepted Rs 70 lakh (10 per cent of the value for which the hotel was sold) and thereby sacrificed Rs 15 crore (the 10 per cent share that would have accrued to them if the value of the hotel had been Rs 151 crore)?

Contrary to what the CBI has insinuated, the asset valuer was jointly chosen by the financial advisors (Lazard) and the ITDC from among the list of government-approved valuers. Five or more valuers from the government-approved list were invited to make presentations. Their qualifications and experience were jointly examined, and then alone was the particular firm chosen for the task.

That care marked every other step also. As in every case of disinvestment, every single one of the prescribed procedures was meticulously followed. Every step of the process, including the setting of the reserve price and the acceptance of the final bid price, was taken with the explicit approval of the Cabinet Committee on Disinvestment. In particular, the shareholders agreement was cleared by the law ministry thrice over — at the draft stage, at the stage when it was frozen and finally when the bids were to be accepted. The then law minister is the one link between that cabinet committee and the present government: he was law minister then and a member of the Cabinet Committee on Disinvestment, and is in-charge of the disinvestment department in the present government. He has stated in an interview that he is well acquainted with every aspect of the disinvestment and that everything about the transaction was in order.


Telling figures

A young analyst, well acquainted with valuations, draws my attention to a series of facts that show how way off the CBI’s imaginative figure of Rs 151 crore is. I will list just a few of them.

* Laxmi Vilas Palace was one of the 20-odd properties owned by the ITDC and amongst the smallest. Further, of its properties, it was the one that was making the highest losses.

* Between 1996 and 2001, the occupancy of Laxmi Vilas Palace came down from 41 per cent to 26 per cent and the hotel faced heavy losses.

Note that the overall occupancy in Udaipur was still 41 per cent in 2002.

* Given the abysmal performance, the net profit margin reduced from 34 per cent to a loss of 51 per cent; to earn gross revenue of Rs 2 crore, the hotel spent Rs 3 crore! At the time, the average hotel in India made Rs 4.5 crore in revenue and Rs 1 crore of net profit (assuming a 25 per cent margin).

* A valuation of Rs 151 crore for the property, as suggested by the CBI, would imply a valuation of over Rs 3,000 crore for the 20-odd ITDC hotels in 2001-02. Compare this figure with the valuation of the Tata Group’s Indian Hotels (one of the most efficient private operators, which owns the Taj Group of hotels and had at that time 65 properties with around 8,100 rooms). This latter chain had an equity valuation of barely Rs 800 crore in 2002.

* The full enterprise value of the Taj Group in 2002 was Rs 2,400 crore for the 65 hotels it owned; each Taj hotel had an average of 125 rooms. At that valuation, each Taj property was being valued at Rs 36 crore. Laxmi Vilas was and is a 55-room hotel; so, even on Taj benchmarks of valuation per room, it would be worth Rs 15 crore! At the Rs 3 crore a room that is implied in the CBI’s figure, Indian Hotels (with a portfolio of around 8,100 rooms) should have been worth Rs 24,000 crore in 2002 itself; that is, more than twice what the company is worth in 2014!

Other comparables also highlight the imaginativeness of the Rs 151 crore valuation:

* HVS are one of the leading consultants and valuation experts in the hotel space globally. They do a detailed assessment of hotel values by city. While they did not do a study for Udaipur, they did one for Jaipur. Their estimate for a hotel in Jaipur in 2002 was Rs 12 lakh per room for a medium-class hotel and Rs 30 lakh per room for a luxury property. Similarly, their range for Agra was Rs 9 lakh to Rs 12 lakh per room.

Udaipur was not part of the golden triangle and had lower occupancy rates and far lower rentals in comparison with both Agra and Jaipur. Based on their assessment and an average rate of Rs 12 lakh per room (accounting for the poor profitability of Laxmi Vilas), one gets a value of Rs 6.6 crore for Laxmi Vilas. Even at the high-end valuation of Rs 30 lakh per room, one gets a value of Rs 16 crore!

* In accordance with the HVS studies, even today a luxury hotel in Jaipur would be worth Rs 77 lakh per room; that implies a value of Rs 42 crore for a 55-room property, 14 years after the disinvestment of the Udaipur hotel!

* Lands End Hotel in Mumbai was purchased by the Taj Group at Rs 80 lakh a room in 2002. This was the highest prime property sold in India in that year. However, if we go by the CBI allegation of a value of Rs 151 crore for Laxmi Vilas (a 55-room hotel), we would have to place the value at Rs 3 crore a room in Udaipur. Udaipur had an occupancy rate of 41-42 per cent over 1999-2002 and room rates of Rs 1,900, as against Rs 3,500 for Mumbai.

* In 2011, Sinclair Hotels purchased Savannah Hotels in high-end Whitefield in Bangalore for Rs 38 lakh per room. At this 2011 valuation, Laxmi Vilas would be valued at Rs 20 crore.

* In 2008, Mahindra Holidays & Resorts purchased Hotel Ooty Villa Park from PVP Ventures — a 100-room property — for Rs 33 crore (including all amenities and assets). This is in 2008 — six years after one of the fastest growing periods in terms of real-estate pricing in India.

* In 2014 (12 years after the Laxmi Vilas transaction), Royal Orchid sold its 155-room property in Hyderabad for Rs 175 crore. Even at this price of Rs 1.2 crore per room, the Laxmi Vilas property would be worth Rs 70 crore. How is the price for a five-star property in Hyderabad 12 years later still unable to justify the supposed Rs 151 crore valuation in 2002?

I can go on adding to the list. But the point will be obvious: we can be fairly certain that the CBI officials in Jodhpur would be innocent of such comparisons. There is a real problem here, and it holds a lesson. Even if one sets aside conspiracy theories, the problem is that the CBI staff, especially at the lower level, just do not understand valuation and other aspects of such transactions. I have had personal exposure to this innocence — when the CBI officials came to ask me about the disinvestment of Hindustan Zinc, for instance.

At the least, that holds one lesson for all who are today trying to get the bureaucracy going: among the reforms that are urgently required is to upgrade the domain knowledge of officials working in our investigating agencies. Otherwise, goaded by pep-talks, honest officers will take decisions on complex matters, only to be hauled up 10-12 years later by persons innocent, at least of considerations that bear on those decisions. 

Wednesday 3 September 2014

Scots voting no to independence would be an astonishing act of self-harm


England is dysfunctional, corrupt and vastly unequal. Who on earth would want to be tied to such a country?
Alex Salmond And Alistair Darling
Alex Salmond (R) first minister of Scotland and Alistair Darling chair of Better Together. 'To vote no is to choose to live under a political system that sustains one of the rich world’s highest levels of inequality and deprivation.' Photograph: Jeff J Mitchell/Getty

Imagine the question posed the other way round. An independent nation is asked to decide whether to surrender its sovereignty to a larger union. It would be allowed a measure of autonomy, but key aspects of its governance would be handed to another nation. It would be used as a military base by the dominant power and yoked to an economy over which it had no control.
It would have to be bloody desperate. Only a nation in which the institutions of governance had collapsed, which had been ruined economically, which was threatened by invasion or civil war or famine might contemplate this drastic step. Most nations faced even with such catastrophes choose to retain their independence – in fact, will fight to preserve it – rather than surrender to a dominant foreign power.
So what would you say about a country that sacrificed its sovereignty without collapse or compulsion; that had no obvious enemies, a basically sound economy and a broadly functional democracy, yet chose to swap it for remote governance by the hereditary elite of another nation, beholden to a corrupt financial centre?
What would you say about a country that exchanged an economy based on enterprise and distribution for one based on speculation and rent? That chose obeisance to a government that spies on its own citizens, uses the planet as its dustbin, governs on behalf of a transnational elite that owes loyalty to no nation, cedes public services to corporations, forces terminally ill people to work and can’t be trusted with a box of fireworks, let alone a fleet of nuclear submarines? You would conclude that it had lost its senses.
So what’s the difference? How is the argument altered by the fact that Scotland is considering whether to gain independence rather than whether to lose it? It’s not. Those who would vote no – now, a new poll suggests, a rapidly diminishing majority – could be suffering from system justification.
System justification is defined as the “process by which existing social arrangements are legitimised, even at the expense of personal and group interest”. It consists of a desire to defend the status quo, regardless of its impacts. It has been demonstrated in a large body of experimental work, which has produced the following surprising results.
System justification becomes stronger when social and economic inequality is more extreme. This is because people try to rationalise their disadvantage by seeking legitimate reasons for their position. In some cases disadvantaged people are more likely than the privileged to support the status quo. One study found that US citizens on low incomes were more likely than those on high incomes to believe that economic inequality is legitimate and necessary.
It explains why women in experimental studies pay themselves less than men, why people in low-status jobs believe their work is worth less than those in high-status jobs, even when they’re performing the same task, and why people accept domination by another group. It might help to explain why so many people in Scotland are inclined to vote no.
The fears the no campaigners have worked so hard to stoke are – by comparison with what the Scots are being asked to lose – mere shadows. As Adam Ramsay points out in his treatise Forty-Two Reasons to Support Scottish Independence, there are plenty of nations smaller than Scotland that possess their own currencies and thrive. Most of the world’s prosperous nations are small: there are no inherent disadvantages to downsizing.
Remaining in the UK carries as much risk and uncertainty as leaving. England’s housing bubble could blow at any time. We might leave the European Union. Some of the most determined no campaigners would take us out: witness Ukip’s intention to stage a “pro-union rally” in Glasgow on 12 September. The union in question, of course, is the UK, not Europe. This reminds us of a crashing contradiction in the politics of such groups: if our membership of the EU represents an appalling and intolerable loss of sovereignty, why is the far greater loss Scotland is being asked to accept deemed tolerable and necessary.
The Scots are told they will have no control over their own currency if they leave the UK. But they have none today. The monetary policy committee is based in London and bows to the banks. The pound’s strength, which damages the manufacturing Scotland seeks to promote, reflects the interests of the City.
To vote no is to choose to live under a political system that sustains one of the rich world’s highest levels of inequality and deprivation. This is a system in which all major parties are complicit, which offers no obvious exit from a model that privileges neoliberal economics over other aspirations. It treats the natural world, civic life, equality, public health and effective public services as dispensable luxuries, and the freedom of the rich to exploit the poor as non-negotiable.
Its lack of a codified constitution permits numberless abuses of power. It has failed to reform the House of Lords, royal prerogative, campaign finance and first-past-the-post voting (another triumph for the no brigade). It is dominated by media owned by tax exiles, who, instructing their editors from their distant chateaux, play the patriotism card at every opportunity. The concerns of swing voters in marginal constituencies outweigh those of the majority; the concerns of corporations with no lasting stake in the country outweigh everything. Broken, corrupt, dysfunctional, retentive: you want to be part of this?
Independence, as more Scots are beginning to see, offers people an opportunity to rewrite the political rules. To create a written constitution, the very process of which is engaging and transformative. To build an economy of benefit to everyone. To promote cohesion, social justice, the defence of the living planet and an end to wars of choice.
To deny this to yourself, to remain subject to the whims of a distant and uncaring elite, to succumb to the bleak, deferential negativity of the no campaign, to accept other people’s myths in place of your own story: that would be an astonishing act of self-repudiation and self-harm. Consider yourselves independent and work backwards from there; then ask why you would sacrifice that freedom.

Tuesday 2 September 2014

And so the Great British Railway Rake-Off rolls on


Network Rail’s £34bn debt has helped private companies to make huge profits. And now we’re ordered to pick up the bill
Daniel Pudles
'If the sums don’t work out, an operator can do the business equivalent of binning a runny baked Alaska by walking away – just as GNER did with the east coast main line.' Illustration by Daniel Pudles
Congratulations, dear reader! As of this morning, you have racked up an extra £539 in debt. No, you haven’t just bought a new wardrobe. You haven’t made a deposit on a winter break. And it’s not because of that heavy eBay session where you overbid for a signed Bulgarian copy of Wet Wet Wet’s first LP.
Nor are you alone. I’m another 539 quid in the red too – as are each of the other 63 million Britons. Put all those sums together and the entire country has just lost £34bn. How did we manage that? The short answer is that some statisticians made it so. The Office for National Statistics has decided that, under new accounting rules, Network Rail can no longer be called a private company. It was always borrowing on the state’s behalf, and if anything went wrong with Network Rail, it was always going to be taxpayers who would be on the hook. So as of this week it goes on the public balance sheet, its £34bn of debt now indelibly inked next to our names.
Nor would you be alone if you haven’t heard about these extra tens of billions taken out in your name. It hasn’t come up much in the papers, or on the BBC. You might think that strange, given the huge amount involved and all those vows made by George Osborne about getting public debt down.
Then again, the hush fits perfectly with what that £34bn represents – because it’s hush money. It’s part of the secret subsidy that you, me and everyone else in Britain has handed over to the train operators to keep them in business. For years, Network Rail has been shelling out for new railway lines and stations refurbs using public money. The fruits of our generosity have been enjoyed by the private train businesses.
On this very page last August, Ian Birrell attacked critics of rail privatisation for not seeing the commuting miracles wrought. “When I travel from London to watch my football team, Everton, play at home, the average journey time to Liverpool is now 37 minutes quicker than when rail was privatised.” Well, yes, Ian: that’s because taxpayers paid £9bn for the privilege.
What’s more, Network Rail has also been keeping down track access charges – the rent that Arriva, TransPennine and the rest pay to use our railways. All this, by the way, is on top of the cash the government hands out directly to each of the firms.
Imagine having a landlord who did up your flat, chucked in a wetroom and some top-of-the-range white goods – then reduced your rent, so that he was really paying you to live there. You have just dreamed up Britain’s privatised rail network. Except it’s not all that private. Instead, you could call it the Great British Rake-Off: the state makes the investment; the train firms and their shareholders rake off the cash. And if the sums don’t work out, an operator can do the business equivalent of binning a runny baked Alaska by walking away – just as GNER did with the east coast main line.
For the rest, there are some lovely returns. Last winter, I asked academics at the Centre for Research on Socio-Cultural Change to tot up how much firms such as Virgin and First Group were making. They reported that in the financial year ending in March 2012, for each pound train operators invested, they were making £2.47 back. As I said at the time, find a bank account paying you that. That stupendous return on capital employed, as accountants refer to it, tells us that train companies invest very little but get a lovely flow of cash to send back to shareholders.
We’re meant to get into a choreographed huff about train fares. I can see why, when they’ve gone up 25% since Cameron took office. But to me, this is the greater scandal: the way we’re paying for private companies to make millions. The final kink in the system is that, from Arriva Trains Wales to London Overground, more and more of Britain’s train services are now run by German, French and Dutch state rail companies, who presumably direct the revenue from our fares back home. So taxpayers and commuters in the UK are paying for rail users on the continent to enjoy lower fares and better services.
If this is privatisation, I’m Richard Branson. All that’s happened this week is that the ONS has decided to end the charade. But what convolutions Labour and Tory politicians have gone through to stave off this day. Rather than criticise Network Rail bosses as they got stuck into the bonus trough, transport secretaries have kept mum so as not to demonstrate any public control over this pretend-private entity.
Rather than take democratic control over our money, the public is relegated to the role of a bystander. Despite embarking on a £38bn public-spending programme, despite heading for £50bn debt, Network Rail has no shareholders, and little parliamentary oversight: it is run by a small board who are supervised by 51 unelected lay members. This is of a piece with the manner in which Gordon Brown’s government practically killed itself to save RBS and Lloyds – then put its stakes in the arms-length UK Financial Investments, headed by a succession of bankers on sabbatical.
So, the Great British Rake-Off. It’s got TV potential: a true saga of how an entire political class pretends it has privatised the railways, even while pouring public money into the pockets of the privateers, then pretends otherwise to the public. Promises, pretence, subterfuge. And a ruddy great mess at the end.