A viral video can expose an uncomfortable truth, but it cannot capture every injustice that occurs behind the closed doors of a government office. The recent controversy involving IAS officer Kumar Rajeev Ranjan and JKAS officer Beenish Wani has triggered a wider debate in Jammu & Kashmir about administrative conduct, workplace dignity and the exercise of authority. Yet, beyond the immediate controversy lies a question that deserves equal attention: who speaks for the Salam Kaks and Jamaal Kaks of our administrative system?
The incident reportedly occurred during a Mission YUVA review meeting on October 14, when a disagreement between the two officers escalated into a heated exchange. Following competing positions over the context of the circulating footage, the government ordered an inquiry on October 16, appointing IAS officer Mandeep Kaur to investigate the matter.
The inquiry must establish the facts, and its findings should be respected. Neither a viral video nor an official clarification can substitute for an impartial examination of the evidence. If misconduct is established, appropriate action must follow; if allegations remain unsubstantiated, that conclusion must also be respected.
But the controversy raises questions far beyond the fate of two officers. It challenges us to examine how power operates within government institutions and whether dignity is a principle applied equally to everyone.
Authority is a responsibility, not a licence to humiliate.
Senior officers have every right to question performance, demand explanations and hold subordinates accountable. Government departments require discipline, and public servants must answer for their work. But accountability is not synonymous with humiliation. A review meeting should be a forum for examining performance and resolving problems, not demonstrating who occupies the more powerful chair.
A government office is not a private estate, and a public servant is not a feudal lord. Every position in the administrative system ultimately derives its legitimacy from public trust.
The dignity of Beenish Wani, like that of any employee, deserves protection. Yet, if dignity is non-negotiable, our concern cannot begin and end with a particular designation or an incident captured on camera.
What about Salam Kak and Jamaal Kak?
What about the clerks whose files remain unattended, the workers waiting for salaries, the employees repeatedly visiting offices to resolve service matters and the field staff whose practical concerns are routinely ignored? Are their grievances heard patiently, or dismissed because they lack the influence to challenge those in authority?
Salam Kak and Jamaal Kak represent ordinary employees who sustain the administrative machinery but remain largely absent from public conversations about its functioning. A peon, junior assistant, clerk or village-level worker has a family to support, responsibilities to fulfil and a life beyond the office. Their designation may determine their duties, but it cannot determine their human worth.
Unfortunately, hierarchy can become so deeply embedded in workplace culture that questioning a senior officer is mistaken for indiscipline, seeking an explanation is treated as defiance, and disagreement is interpreted as a challenge to authority.
But what happens when a senior officer is mistaken? What happens when a junior employee’s field experience reveals problems that a superior has overlooked? Must reason surrender to rank?
An administration that discourages honest disagreement may achieve outward obedience, but risks losing its ability to recognise and correct mistakes.
Good governance requires communication in both directions. A field worker may know why a scheme is failing to reach beneficiaries. A clerk may identify an inconsistency in a file. A junior officer may recognise that a deadline is unrealistic or an instruction impractical.
When employees fear humiliation, they may remain silent even when they foresee failure. Silence is then mistaken for agreement, and obedience for competence.
A good officer is not one who can silence a room by raising their voice. It is one who can listen to opposing arguments, examine evidence and correct mistakes without allowing personal pride to undermine the public interest. Leadership is strengthened, not weakened, when subordinates are allowed to speak.
Administrative indifference also has a human cost.
A file delayed for months may appear insignificant to an official handling hundreds of cases. For the person waiting, it may determine whether a salary is released, a pension processed or a legitimate service benefit granted. Behind every genuine grievance is a human being whose life does not pause while a file moves from one desk to another.
Not every application can be accepted, and every decision must comply with the law. But rejection need not involve disrespect, and delays should not continue indefinitely without explanation. Seeking a lawful decision is not asking for a personal favour.
Administrative efficiency must therefore be measured not merely by meetings conducted, files processed or targets achieved, but also by the fairness, timeliness and transparency with which genuine grievances are addressed.
Accountability must operate in both directions. Junior employees must follow service rules, while senior officers must also meet appropriate standards of professional conduct. Authority cannot become a shield against scrutiny.
The present inquiry must establish what happened and demonstrate that allegations can be examined fairly, without prejudice or retaliation. Both officers deserve due process. Neither public outrage nor official hierarchy should determine the outcome.
Beyond this case, government departments need accessible grievance-redressal mechanisms, clear professional-conduct standards and credible safeguards for employees reporting mistreatment. No employee should need personal connections or a viral video to secure a fair hearing.
The ultimate test of institutional integrity is whether the system responds fairly when nobody is watching.
Jammu & Kashmir needs an administration in which seniority brings greater responsibility rather than entitlement, junior officers can raise concerns without fear, and ordinary employees receive the same courtesy as those with influence.
When the cameras are switched off and headlines disappear, let us not forget Salam Kak and Jamaal Kak. Their experiences may never become viral, but their concerns are no less real. They, too, deserve to be heard and answered.
Dignity is not a privilege conferred by rank. It is the foundation of a just administration, and it must remain non-negotiable.
The writer can be emailed at ramizspeaks77@gmail.com
