Opinion | Why We Must Pay Attention To How IAS Officer Tried To Destroy Transparent Digital System

India’s governance systems are facing a tough lesson from a current court case: when transparency increases, so does resistance.

This resistance can manifest as fabricated scandals, personal vendettas,

and manufactured narratives by insiders who later attempt to discredit the system they once served.

The case of former IAS officer Ashok Parmar is a striking example. His explosive claims of a “massive Jal Jeevan Mission scam” in Jammu and Kashmir, highlighted by certain media outlets as whistleblower revelations, have collapsed under official scrutiny. This case is not just about a loss of personal credibility but illustrates how reformers are targeted when digital transparency disrupts old ways of functioning, highlighting the need for stronger institutional safeguards.

The most startling detail emerged at the beginning. Parmar’s initial written allegation accused officials of a “scam” involving Rs 1,000 – not a thousand crore, not even a lakh, but literally one thousand rupees.

From there, the figures ballooned fantastically: Rs 3,000 crore in one letter, Rs 5,000 crore in another, Rs 6,000 crore soon after, and eventually an eye-popping Rs 14,000 crore, roughly the entire Jal Jeevan Mission’s approved outlay for J&K. These figures did not arise from audits, complaints, discoveries, or investigations but from Parmar’s pen, growing with each letter he wrote.

As his figures inflated, his credibility diminished. The Central Bureau of Investigation (CBI) confirmed they had no complaint from Parmar on record. The National Commission for Scheduled Castes (NCSC) also reported no complaints from him. The Bureau of Public Enterprises (BPE) stated that the letters Parmar claimed to have written as Chairman did not exist in their records.

In other words, the complaints Parmar mentioned to the media were never actually filed.

The only body that examined the allegations, the Jammu and Kashmir Anti-Corruption Bureau (ACB), issued a categorical finding: there was no loss, no irregularity, no mis-procurement, no inflated rates, and no conspiracy. Payments had been made through PaySys as mandated. Tenders had followed the required e-procurement process. Technical sanctions and administrative approvals were in place.

If this were just one officer’s collapsed complaint, the story would end there. But the deeper narrative is more alarming: Parmar’s allegations targeted the very digital systems that had eradicated leakages in J&K.

Systems like BEAMS for budget control, PROOF for geo-tagged works, mandatory e-tendering, mandatory administrative approval, mandatory technical sanction, 100% physical verification, Janbhagidari portals for citizens, and Pani Samitis for village-level oversight were introduced to root out corruption and ensure no irregularity could occur without leaving a digital footprint.

His allegations, when closely examined, seem to be a reaction not to wrongdoing but to the impossibility of wrongdoing under these systems. What he labelled a “criminal conspiracy” was actually the architecture of digital transparency that blocked discretionary decision-making. The document responding to his latest letter explains bluntly: there are more than ten independent control layers, making financial mischief structurally impossible.

This is why his technical claims collapse so quickly. Parmar alleged that administrative approval was not obtained – an absurdity, as BEAMS will not release funds without administrative approval, technical sanction, budget provision, and PROOF documentation already in place.

He claimed HDPE pipes were unsuitable, despite national guidelines and technical standards (BIS IS 4984) recommending them and evidence showing their use would save Rs 455 crore. He stressed that the posting of chief engineer Hamesh Manchanda was manipulated, yet the official file shows that Parmar himself recommended Manchanda’s posting, dismantling his conspiracy theory. He alleged the chief secretary influenced a departmental inquiry, though the inquiry file shows no involvement from that office.

Moreover, records reveal that Parmar made hundreds of transfers outside the approved transfer window, ignoring processes and bypassing clear rules. Far from defending transparency, his pattern shows discomfort with transparent systems and a tendency to operate outside them – behaviour consistent with someone who would later attack those systems when constrained by them.

The most telling pattern is his anger. Nearly every letter Parmar wrote begins with resentment over being transferred out of Jal Shakti.

His communications are filled with personal grievance, disproportionate outrage, and emotional language, which is completely at odds with the clinical tone expected from a senior administrator. Officials reviewing his submissions described the anger as “the motive made visible.” It is rare when the tone of documents becomes as telling as their content.

This is not the story of a whistleblower uncovering wrongdoing. It is the story of an officer angered by a transfer, blocked by transparent systems, cornered by digital procedures, and lashing out with fabricated allegations.

The significance of this case extends far beyond J&K. It raises a national question: what happens when governance becomes transparent, but some officers resist transparency? What happens when digital systems remove discretion, and those who resist retaliate by attacking the officials who built them?

India’s reform journey is entering an era where digital transparency — e-tendering, digital payments, geo-tagging, public dashboards — is finally sealing the cracks that allowed the misuse of discretion. But this case shows that the next level of resistance may come from within the system, not just from outside contractors or vested interests.

This episode must serve as a cautionary precedent. Governments, institutions, and the media must learn from it. There must be safeguards for reformers who implement transparent systems.

Allegations originating from personal resentment rather than evidence must be scrutinised. The media must recognise the high burden of verification when an insider alleges wrongdoing without filing a complaint, presenting documents, or having consistent figures.

India is building cleaner governance systems. This case highlights that the greatest threat comes not from real corruption, but from fabricated corruption stories used as weapons against those who eliminate it.

The lesson is simple and urgent. If reformers are attacked for making the system transparent, the system must protect the reformers, not the falsehoods.