Dilip Cherian | States vs Centre: No Extension For Top Officers Like CS & DGP

If you thought turf wars were the preserve of politicians, think again. In the high-stakes world of senior babudom, the battle lines are increasingly being drawn between state capitals and Raisina Hill. And lately, it’s the Centre that’s been having the last word, even when states dig in their heels.

Observers point to the recent standoff in Jharkhand. The state wanted its DGP Anurag Gupta to stay beyond his April 30 retirement. The Centre said no. Jharkhand kept him on anyway, and now the Supreme Court is in play.

Uttar Pradesh has had its share of heartburn, too. Chief Minister Yogi Adityanath wanted to retain his chief secretary, Manoj Kumar Singh, for another year beyond his July 31 superannuation. The Centre refused, forcing the state to elevate the senior-most IAS officer, S P Goyal. It’s the same story with UP’s DGP Prashant Kumar. When the Centre declined the extension, the state scrambled, and Rajeev Krishna took charge as acting DGP.

Even Bihar, never shy of flexing administrative muscle, had to bow. The request to extend chief secretary Amrit Lal Meena’s tenure was rejected; Pratyaya Amrit is now warming up to take over.

On paper, the rules are clear: Senior postings in All India Services need the Centre’s nod. In practice, these repeated rejections hint at a sharper political edge, a quiet but telling reminder of who holds the ultimate leash on India’s top babus. After all, in India’s power hierarchy, even the most senior civil servant is only as permanent as Delhi allows.

The unravelling of trust

When institutions entrusted with safeguarding democracy begin acting as instruments of those in power, trust is the first casualty. The role of the Election Commission is to ensure fairness, not to score political points. Lately, it feels like we're watching trust erode in real-time.

A recent public notice, issued by the chief electoral officer of Karnataka, has brought this tension to the surface. It was directed at the Leader of the Opposition, demanding proof of serious allegations of electoral malpractice. This isn't just a political squabble; it's a symptom of a much deeper problem.

We've always seen our civil service, our bureaucratic backbone, as a unified, impartial body. But recent events suggest a house divided, even within babudom. We're seeing more and more public finger-pointing, which reveals a deep internal fracture. Babus, the very people tasked with upholding our systems, seem to be grappling with fundamental questions about their roles and allegiances.

This isn't about taking a side in a political debate. It's about a more profound concern for our institutions. When the custodians of our system can't agree on the rules of the game, what does that mean for the rest of us?

The quiet hum of discontent is growing within babudom; it’s a sound that deserves our attention, not for the drama, but for what it reveals about the deep, systemic questions we need to ask ourselves.

Bengal’s IAS exodus that never was

If the IAS were a cricket team, West Bengal’s squad for Delhi duty would be down to its last few players — and the dressing room door firmly bolted from inside. Only four officers from the state are serving at the Centre, a figure that’s embarrassingly low for a state of its size, sanctioned cadre strength, and historic administrative heft.

For young officers, this isn’t just a numbers game but a career graveyard. Central deputation is more than a perk; it’s a ladder to the highest rungs of the service. Without stints at the director or joint secretary level in Delhi, the path to becoming an additional or Union secretary is practically sealed off. Yet, in Bengal, even empanelled officers often retire without ever reaching those posts.

The rot runs deeper, note observers. Promising IAS officers are sometimes left on “compulsory wait” for months, while prized district collectorates are handed to state civil service officers. Inter-cadre transfers on marriage grounds? In Bengal, that’s a courtroom battle, not an administrative courtesy.

The irony is rich. Kerala, another state with a long Leftist history, encourages central deputation and has a healthy presence in Delhi’s corridors. In Bengal, a legacy of mutual distrust between the Trinamul Congress government led by Mamata Banerjee and the steel frame has calcified into a policy of bureaucratic self-sabotage.

This isn’t just about individual careers. A thin bench strength in Delhi means Bengal’s voice is weaker when national policies are shaped or funds are carved up. In the long run, it’s the state’s development agenda, not just IAS morale, which pays the price. While the state’s political leadership may think it’s keeping its officers close, it may well be keeping the state small.