Power Shield

When a 99 percent shareholder is not been made an accused in a controversial land deal but a one percent shareholder has been named as one, an investigation has some explaining to do. The Bombay High Court has now demanded that very explanation in the Mundhwa land case involving NCP MP Parth Pawar, son of the late Ajit Pawar, raising the eternal question whether political influence quietly alters the way in which the law of the land is applied.

A democracy cannot have one standard of scrutiny for the politically connected and another for everyone else. Pawar, a Rajya Sabha MP, holds 99 percent of Amadea Enterprises LLP, the company that acquired the disputed land. The remaining 1 percent is held by Digvijay Patil, another partner and director who has been named as an accused. The land in question is a large government-controlled parcel in Pune. The company that acquired it is overwhelmingly owned by Pawar.

The land is in Mundhwa, an increasingly valuable area of eastern Pune that has been transformed by the city’s rapid expansion. The parcel covers about 40 acres and has a complicated legal history. It was classified as Mahar Watan land - a historical category of land grant - and was in government possession and leased to the Botanical Survey of India. The FIR in the case alleges that it was transferred to Amadea Enterprises without the mandatory approval of the state government at knockoff prices far beyond market value.

The transaction has subsequently faced scrutiny on several fronts. Authorities imposed about Rs. 21 crore in stamp duty and penalties on Amadea Enterprises; the company’s appeal against that order was rejected. A Pune civil court also ordered the sale deed cancelled, declaring it void from the beginning.

So, what evidence led investigators to make such a stark distinction between the two shareholders? What was the precise basis on which investigators concluded that Pawar’s overwhelming stake in the company did not warrant the same scrutiny?

The High Court had already raised the issue in September after a submission before it alleged that Pawar had not been named because he was “very highly influential.”

The state is expected to protect public land, enforce its own rules and investigate alleged wrongdoing without fear or favour. Yet when the transaction involves the son of a senior political figure, the machinery of the state must now explain why its investigation appears to have stopped short of the person with the overwhelming economic interest in the company.

Power is supposed to make public officials more accountable, not less. Political office is not a private shield and family connections are not a legal exemption. The ultimate scandal in the Mundhwa case would be the possibility that proximity to power can determine who gets investigated, who gets protected and who gets left carrying the blame.