The “glass house” that has come up for journalists near gate number 12 of the old Parliament building — its merits notwithstanding — is the latest symbol of the spaces that have been shrinking for the media.
Journalists can sit and wait in this 20 by 10 ten feet dabba-like structure, a container converted into an air-conditioned glass house with two TV screens, and facilities for water, tea and coffee. Politicians can walk across and talk to the media persons sitting inside if they so desire — almost like a favour bestowed on them.
In the days of old, before the new Parliament building came up, there used to be two canopies in the Parliament complex where media persons, particularly TV journalists, used to wait so that they could rush to catch MPs and ministers as they emerged out of the Parliament building (from gates 12, 1 and 4) and get their response to what was happening inside. They would surround them, put a mic under their nose and shoot questions.
After the new building came up, journalists would wait for the MPs to come out of the Makar Gate, one of the six gates in the new building. Earlier, too, the area around the Makar Gate had a cordon of sorts — journos would duck under it and often climb up the steps towards the gate to speak to MPs as they emerged.
Makar Gate is now exclusively for the use of parliamentarians. Journalists are seen hanging around for hours (in the humid July-August heat) outside the barricaded area. Or they can sit more comfortably inside the glass house not far away, waiting for political leaders to come across to them.
There are few spaces for the media in the new Parliament. There are, of course, the press galleries, but the number of journalists allowed in today is far fewer. One of the purposes behind the new structure was to accommodate more people than was possible in the old, 1927 building designed by Edward Lutyens and Herbert Baker.
There is a media lounge and a briefing room in the new Parliament but they are located outside (in what is called the North Utility Building). There is also a workstation in the basement to facilitate the filing of stories.
What is striking is the absence of free spaces where politicians and media persons can sit down over a cup of tea/coffee and chat. Where dialogue can take place as it should in a vibrant, plural and cacophonous democracy. The glass dabba is also a reminder of the transition that has taken place from the “old” to the “new” order, from the once vibrant, lively, high domed “Central Hall” to a tiny, constricted “glass house”.
The Central Hall is still there in the old building (rechristened Samvidhan Sadan) but the media is no longer allowed there. The standup fans there still slowly whirr away; the portraits of those who laid the foundations of a free and modern India — Nehru, Sardar Patel, C Rajagopalachari, Maulana Azad and many others — still adorn its walls. There is Gandhi at one end and Savarkar at the other, representing two poles of thinking.
Free and unrestrained exchanges would take place in the Central Hall over cups of coffee or fragrant Darjeeling tea — with the old Coffee Board staff claiming how they would take a cup of freshly brewed coffee for the then PM Indira Gandhi at 9 am to start her day!
The many historic events the Central Hall witnessed over the decades made it a proud symbol of the divergence of views which could co-exist in India. The debates of the Constituent Assembly took place here from 1946-49. It was here that Jawaharlal Nehru made his epochal, “tryst with destiny” speech at midnight on August 14-15, 1947.
These circular walls saw the political shenanigans that elevated Vishwanath Pratap Singh as the seventh Prime Minister in 1989. Devi Lal was declared the leader first — the UNI reporter charged out of the Hall shouting “It’s Devi Lal for PM” only to say a couple of minutes later, “Kill the story”. In a dramatic turn of events, Devi Lal had named VP Singh the prospective PM.
It was in the Central Hall that Sonia Gandhi renounced the prime ministership in 2004. It was also here that Narendra Modi walked across to a copy of the Constitution in June 2024 and bowed before it at the start of his third stint in office. It was here that MPs almost climbed over each other to shake the hand of the then US President Bill Clinton in 2000.
Central Hall enabled ruling party politicians to talk to their counterparts across the political divide. An Arun Jaitley-P Chidamabaram meeting in a corner sorted out an impasse between the BJP and Congress. It enabled, for instance, the ruling Congress to toughen the nuclear liability law during Manmohan Singh’s term. During A B Vajpayee’s premiership, one could hear Parliamentary Affairs Minister Pramod Mahajan tell the Opposition leaders, “You have made your point by stalling Parliament, now let’s get down to business.”
Jaitley would be surrounded by journalists when he arrived for his “adda” in the Central Hall. Journalists from different states of India could meet and exchange views. For the media, the Central Hall provided a space for congenial, off-the-record interactions. Senior journalists, who became eligible for entry, could pick up behind-the-scenes information that gave them deeper insights into the workings of India’s democracy.
It was the late Vice President Krishan Kant who had once declared in Parliament, “When you stifle the flow of information to the people, you are blocking the channel of information to yourself.”
Lok Sabha Speaker Om Birla has now promised to set up an all-party committee to address the media’s concerns. There is no equivalent of a Central hall in the new Parliament building — it is “a Central hall” that the Speaker should consider restoring to enable the media to access information and play its role in our democracy.
The writer is contributing editor, The Indian Express
