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Geeta, a domestic helper in her late 40s, works at a house in West Delhi’s Janakpuri area. When the news about Rs 500 and 1,000 ceasing to be legal tender reached her, she was distraught.
Approaching her employer, Geeta begged that her old notes be exchanged. On asking why she couldn’t go and deposit her own money, she replied that despite having a bank account, she doesn’t trust it.
“Also, if I go to the bank, who will do my work?”
The government’s demonetisation move has rendered many helpless, many cashless. Geeta, at least, has a bank account. What happens to those without one?
Also Read: Currency Ban Is Tearing Rural Banks Apart
Kumar explains that the money one holds is what the Reserve Bank of India owes the person holding it. By banning the notes, the government has basically cancelled that debt.
He questions the legality of the move through Article 300A of the constitution, which states that “No person can be deprived of his property except by authority of law.” In that manner, “limiting exchange of old notes effectively means that you have destroyed the people’s property rights,” he says.
Demonetisation, then, implies extinguishing public debt in the hands of someone who has a demonetised note, which cannot be done without the authority of law.
In major cities like Delhi and Bombay, there are banks that open an account for a person on the spot. “If the person has a valid ID proof, we open the account for them. It might take more time than usual, but it gets done,” a banker in a Delhi branch of the State Bank of India told The Quint.
Dr Jayati Ghosh, Professor of Economics at the Centre for Economic Studies and Planning at Jawaharlal Nehru University thinks this case is an exception.
Calling the policy an attack on the poor, Ghosh goes on to make another argument:
Concurring with Ghosh’s point, economist Dipankar Dasgupta believes that somebody without an account will either look to a friend or relative who can deposit the money in their own account, or indulge in some sort of a “black transaction.”
Daily wage workers, sabziwaallahs, even domestic help, prefer keeping some amount of their income in their houses for ready disposal. Has the government, with one move, disenfranchised their right to hold their wealth?
“Legally, the move does not override any constitutional right,” says senior Supreme Court lawyer Sanjay Hegde.
“The government has basically left the poor without any option. Their best option is for them to find a dalaal who will exchange their notes in black,” Dr Ghosh says.
The chaos that has ensued ever since the announcement is ample proof that implementation has been poor; a point that Hegde agrees with.
While the Supreme Court recently stayed a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) against the policy, there has been talk of other PILs being filed to withdraw the currency ban.
“Now, the 1978 demonetisation was upheld by the Supreme Court. It is highly unlikely that a court will ultimately invalidate the government’s action,” Hegde asserts.
Why didn’t the policy, which is intended to be a “surgical strike” on black money, take into account all those people who chose not to enter the banking system?
What hope, then, is left for the millions of people in the country who have been left without accounts, cash or any peace of mind?
(At The Quint, we question everything. Play an active role in shaping our journalism by becoming a member today.)