Will The Games Be Worth It?

In recent months, among the many that have raised doubts about the Commonwealth Games, the most compelling argument is about fiscal malpractice. For every stadium built, for every flyover, footbridge and sidewalk constructed, the figures spell a gross mismanagement of public funds. At the beginning of the Games this October, India would be poorer by the much-disputed figure of $30 billion, by any standards a number that begs serious scrutiny.Increase in tourism and upgrade of infrastructure would have marginally raised Delhi's urban standard, but little else. No gain, for a lot of pain.
How can the country allow such a grotesque figure to go unaccounted? In many European countries, France in particular, selection of public works follows a transparent process from selection and award, to a public display of the project's place in the city. Also included are the reasons for its selection and a financial fact-sheet. The public is encouraged to participate in the process by posting their comments, on the basis of which projects are either realised or rejected.
What has been the financial and architectural basis for the three years of frantic activity in Delhi? In a country with some of the world's lowest labour costs and relatively cheap construction materials, comparisons with other international venues are obviously irrelevant. Yet the figures are startling: the 2006 Melbourne Games ran up a bill of $1 billion, compared to the expected Delhi sports expenditure of $12 billion. Where did the extra billions go?
Just the renovation of Jawaharlal Nehru stadium originally built in 1982 at $70 million cost $200 million. Moreover, what makes the stadium world-class is the simplistic appreciation of a shape unseen in the urban landscape. Is merely looking like a set of sailboats enough to make the expenditure worthwhile, or are there other hidden criteria for its selection? China's Bird's Nest stadium, seductive as its unusual shape was, contained far-reaching ideas on passive climate control, security and material innovation. Any Delhi Games audit must also reveal why one design was selected over others and what benefits would accrue in the long term.
By comparison, projects for the 2012 London Olympics, still two years away, are already 70 per cent complete and several months ahead of schedule. They are not just within the expected budget of $14 billion, but their thoughtful spread of sporting arenas throughout the city is expected to benefit less privileged neighbourhoods affected by crime and urban blight. What organising and economising methods can India derive from those who complete public tasks on time and within budget?
Doubts about the benefits of the Games raise other questions about engaging poor countries for such mega events. Except for Canada, Britain and Australia, almost all Commonwealth countries are poor. By promoting sport in a more egalitarian way, the benefits of the Games could have been dispersed among a larger less privileged populace than merely those of the capital city. When the Games were awarded to India, individual events could have been subsequently awarded to different cities: say, athletics in Kanpur, aquatics in Jaipur, hockey in Patiala, wrestling in Hissar and so on, while the opening and closing ceremonies remained in New Delhi. Such a shift for future Games may make the Commonwealth itself more relevant.
Of course, when a whole nation is hoping the world views it in favourable light, the eventual success of the Games will hinge on that one affirmation. Will Prince Philip's remark about faulty wiring at Buckingham Palace, that it looks as if an Indian has done it, hold true at an international scale, or will the successful Games offer him a resounding rebuttal? It won't take long to find out.
In the final Games run-up, as the blame game gathers momentum, the harshest criticism comes from insiders. The disjointed nature of most Indian civic activity the complete lack of coordination between multiple agencies is the primary cause of cost overruns, poor quality and delays. Electrical, construction, sewage, landscape, etc, are handled by different arms of the same government that refuse to speak to each other. Consequently, buildings are ripped apart after construction for electrical cabling. Sidewalks are surfaced and resurfaced twice, sometimes thrice. Separate tenders may be issued for the floor and roof of the same building. In the end, the colossal multidisciplinary effort becomes not just a despairing logistical nightmare, but leaves behind a legacy of self-doubt and an unfortunate memorial to administrative ineptness.
At the base of all the criticism, however, lies a nagging unease that too much has been spent on too little. Among the organisers, builders and contractors are fears that an audit may reveal large-scale corruption; among bureaucrats and ministers the apprehensions of favouritism or discrimination that may surface in an inquiry. But the likelihood of such revelations will be drastically reduced if the Games go well.
In coming days, Delhi will cover its reality with a big cheque to a local tent house. Like a lavish Punjabi marriage set-up, the flapping swaying paraphernalia, erected in a few hours, will hide the slums, unfinished roads and piles of debris left over in a neglected incomplete city. The idea will be to seduce, distract and mesmerise foreign guests with pomp and colour. At least for those two weeks in October, sport will be forgotten.
The writer is an architect.