If gold rusts, what shall iron do?

Father of English poetry Geoffrey Chaucer once said: If gold rusts, what shall iron do? His point of reference was the corruption in churches in England where he lived between 1340 and 1400. Six hundred years later in Bangladesh, we say: What shall the ordinary men do if the very officials entrusted with fighting graft indulge in first-degree corruption?

The case in point is two Anti-Corruption Commission directors, who lied and cheated to obtain freedom fighter's certificate. In all probability, they did not fight the war, or why would they cheat? And in all probability, they acquired the certificates to get job extensions for themselves and to secure the special quota for their children and grandchildren in government services and educational institutions.

One of the two is Golam Yahiya. When he joined the ACC, he officially declared he was not a freedom fighter. Later he obtained the certificate without following proper procedures. He resigned on November 2, the day the commission started investigating him and eight other ACC officials over the alleged forgery. The other, Abdul Aziz Bhuiyan, submitted to the commission a Muktijoddha Sangsad certificate that does not bear an issue date and its serial number does not officially exist, as this newspaper reported on Tuesday.

Now what were they thinking? They are among the top officials in the ACC, whose job, according to the Anti-Corruption Commission Act-2004, is “to prevent corruption and other corrupt practices across the country”. How they contributed to this fight against corruption is another matter, but when they obtained and tendered these certificates, did they consider it not to be a corrupt practice?

Over the past few months, the ACC had been investigating top government officials accused of the same offence. It could as well be that the investigating officers were under the supervision of the two directors in question. It would be interesting to know what was going on in their minds during the probe.

But first, from fancy to facts. The ACC did find, to our shock, that at least six bureaucrats, among whom are a secretary and a joint secretary, resorted to cheating to obtain the certificates. Their posts are evidence enough that they are among the most talented and efficient officers in our civil bureaucracy. But in the end, the legacy they left behind is one of disgrace.

Some of them, like one of the two ACC directors, resigned during and after the probe to evade departmental action. But the commission and the government as a whole are oath-bound to uphold the law. And law, in its core, is meant to right the wrong by bringing the law-breakers to book. These corrupt officials cannot make amends by simply quitting office.

But the legal question apart, there is the moral question. We hold our freedom fighters in the highest esteem for they are our greatest of sons. Our heroes. It is for them we have a land to call Bangladesh, a language to call Bangla, a flag to fly, an anthem to sing. These are very emotional issues. How can one play foul with these emotions just for a job extension? By doing so, does he not corrupt his children and grandchildren, for whose education and career he seems to worry about, and instill dishonesty into them?

The history of an anti-graft body in the Indian subcontinent goes back to 1944. Interestingly, at the root of it was corruption by government officials. Towards the end of the World War II, a severe food shortage struck this part of the world, prompting the government to introduce food ration in 1943. But the distribution system failed, thanks to some corrupt food officials. In response, the then British government issued an ordinance in 1944 in a move to tackle corruption by public servants. In independent Bangladesh, the first set of rules to run an anti-corruption body was formulated in 1983. The current Anti-Corruption Commission was set up in 2004, after abolition of the erstwhile anti-corruption bureau.

The commission has its successes as well and they are not too few. Its anti-graft campaign across the country is particularly noteworthy. But more often than not, its achievements have been overshadowed by its policy to go soft on the ruling party men and to go tough on the opposition men. For this, of course, the commission does not stand accused. Every government, by varying degrees, has made sure that it cannot function independently. It is not for nothing that the ACC has come to be known as a toothless tiger today. The only time this “tiger” seemed to have some teeth was during the 2007-08 army-backed caretaker government. In the process, however, the graft-fighting body set its eyes someplace other than merely fighting corruption.

But while a tiger with no teeth is a plaything, a tiger with ill intent is doubly dangerous. We want neither. We want a strong, influence-free ACC that can function independently and go after anyone, however powerful, like it did in the case of Awami League lawmaker Badiuzzaman Bodi.

The ACC, as an institution, cannot be blamed for the corruption of its two officials. But it can be and will be blamed if it does not pursue the very goal it was established to pursue: to prevent corruption and other corrupt practices, and that too without fear or favour. When trust is lost, there is still hope.