Srinagar: A viral video of an IAS officer unleashing a torrent of abuse on a junior woman colleague during a virtual meeting on October 15 (Thursday) has exposed the arrogance of power within Jammu and Kashmir’s bureaucracy.Rajiv Ranjan, a 2010-batch IAS officer from Bihar, was seen screaming “shut up”, refusing to let Beenish Wani, assistant director of employment, Ganderbal, explain herself, and declaring, “I can always speak to you like this.”He then went on to hurl the insult “bloody sh*t” at her and orders her out of the meeting. Wani’s parting words were equally blunt: “Go to hell.”In a video statement released by Jammu Headlines, Wani said the work culture in offices remains problematic.“If this is how colleagues and subordinate officers are treated, then I’m sorry to say we would rather work under ‘illiterate’ officers than those of this ilk,” she said.“Just as many rapes go unreported, instances of such misbehaviour by officers frequently remain hidden,” Wani noted, adding, “Even women officers on maternity leave are not spared; they face abusive remarks such as, ‘You stay at home for six months and only now you have appeared’.”Interestingly, colleagues who have worked with Wani allege that she, too, can be abrasive in her dealings with junior staff.“We have had our share of difficult encounters with Ms Beenish Wani, who, at times, can be as intimidating as Mr Rajiv Ranjan appears in the video,” a clerk told The Wire. “Perhaps, for once, the tables have turned.”But the incident raises questions that go beyond the conduct of two officers. It also brings Ranjan’s own record into focus.A CBI caseIn March 2020, the CBI arrested Ranjan in connection with the multi-crore illegal gun-licence scam, allegedly involving the issuance of licences on forged documents during his tenure as Deputy Commissioner of Kupwara. The case remains subject to judicial determination.The contrast is difficult to ignore. An officer whose conduct has come under the scanner of a central investigating agency is seen asserting his authority over a junior colleague with barefaced contempt. The allegations against him do not establish guilt, but they make his display of authority all the more striking.The incident is disturbing in itself. Yet its significance lies in what it reveals about a system where humiliation can travel down the administrative hierarchy, from senior officers to those with little power to push back. Former IAS officer Shantmanu described Ranjan’s behaviour as “outlandish, irresponsible and unbecoming of an IAS officer”, but rejected the suggestion that it represented the entire service.Now associated with Sri Sri Ravi Shankar’s ‘Art of Living’, where he teaches values and etiquette, Shantmanu attributed such conduct partly to inadequate pre-induction training in professional behaviour. He also pointed to unrealistic targets set by the Prime Minister’s Office. Senior officers, he argued, often lack the courage to question whether these targets are achievable and pass them down the hierarchy instead. The pressure builds, sometimes erupting in outbursts such as the one seen in the video. But does pressure merely explain such behaviour, or does it also help perpetuate a culture in which those with less power become the easiest targets?Nasir Shah, former Director of the J&K Science and Technology Department, sees a deeper problem. In his view, the culture of glorifying the IAS breeds entitlement and leaves junior officers to bear the consequences.“This is not a case only with Mr Rajiv Ranjan. Almost all IAS officers are arrogant. The fault lies with glorifying the service. We pamper them so much, as if after God, if there’s any authority on earth, it is them. It gets into their heads,” Shah told the Wire.Ego clashFor Shah, the video is shocking not because such behaviour is unusual, but because it was recorded.“Had this meeting not happened in an online mode, nobody would have said a word about it. Insults such as these are drunk as a poison without any complaint,” he said.He recalls seeing directors emerge from meetings red-faced, trembling and even weeping after being grilled by their superiors. Women IAS officers, he adds, can subject male subordinates to similar treatment.Shah also describes a chain of command riddled with ego clashes.When senior officers fail to cooperate, administrative secretaries bypass them and push work down the line. Junior officers are then held responsible for delays despite lacking the staff, resources or authority to deliver.“The junior officers at their turn find themselves hitting a dead end,” he says.Chronic vacancies make matters worse. Shah says his own department’s strength fell from around 40 officials to just three or four. Posts referred for recruitment in 2020 were filled only in 2025.“A month’s job took four years,” he scorned.He calls the hierarchy a form of “caste system”, in which IAS officers look down on JKAS officers, who in turn treat their own subordinates as inferior.Shah also alleges that senior officials misuse departmental resources, including by requisitioning government vehicles for personal convenience while departments struggle to meet their own needs.Veteran journalist Nishikant Khajuria of Jammu-based Daily Excelsior traces the problem partly to the erosion of accountability following the abrogation of Article 370 and the withdrawal of Jammu and Kashmir’s special status. He argues that the resulting power rift has left the bureaucracy increasingly insulated from elected authority. “The power tussle between the elected chief minister and the Centre-appointed Lieutenant Governor has paralysed the administration. With control over IAS officers resting with the LG rather than the elected government, accountability has weakened. Shielded from political scrutiny, these officers increasingly behave like self-styled kings.”Khajuria traces bureaucratic entitlement to Jammu and Kashmir’s exceptional political position after Partition, which, he argues, “pampered” politicians and officials alike.Citing the region’s political sensitivities, he says New Delhi often chose to look the other way.“An IAS officer who gets modest government accommodation elsewhere is treated like royalty in Jammu and Kashmir. Such privilege eventually goes to their head,” Khajuria argues.He recalls an episode from Farooq Abdullah’s tenure as chief minister, when Ashok Jaitley served as Jammu and Kashmir’s chief secretary (1996-2002).“Ashok Jaitley and Farooq Abdullah were virtually inseparable, bound by a closeness that allowed Jaitley to wield power far beyond his bureaucratic remit, answerable to virtually no one. Another key figure in this power equation was B.R. Singh, Abdullah’s principal secretary,” Khajuria said.A complaint by Shafi Uri, a minister in Abdullah’s cabinet, against Singh led to an episode Khajuria remembers as revealing how authority was exercised back in time. “When minister Shafi Uri complained to Farooq Abdullah that B.R. Singh had made him wait for a meeting, he personally accompanied the minister to Singh’s office to resolve the matter,” Khajuria recalled. “Ashok Jaitley was even tougher. He would make politicians wait for hours before granting them an audience.”Jaitley’s proximity to power continued well after his retirement. He retired on April 30, 2002, and went on to serve for another six months as principal adviser to Farooq Abdullah.Mohammad Shafi Rather, a 2001 IAS inductee from the JKAS, echoed Khajuria’s view that “Abdullah had never been serious about governance”.“During Kashmir’s most sensitive phase, Farooq Abdullah would call chief secretary Ashok Jaitley ‘Tony’, reflecting how seriously he took governance,” Rather said. “He would use state resources, including a helicopter, to visit places like Gulmarg, leaving the state in the hands of just two officers – Jaitley and Principal Secretary B.R. Singh.”Political rift?Strangely, Abdullah has now taken a strong public stand against bureaucratic high-handedness following the viral video. Reacting to the incident, the National Conference president said had it happened during his tenure, he would have ‘put Ranjan on a plane and sent him out of the state’.Rather dismisses Abdullah’s remarks as political theatre, suggesting that the former chief minister’s flair for drama was no substitute for serious governance.“Beneath this drama lies the real political rift between Omar Abdullah and Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha,” he said. “They see this episode as a chance to settle the score and hold him responsible for the administrative paralysis they blame on his grip over the system.”Meanwhile, the Omar Abdullah government has ordered an inquiry into the incident. But Rather questioned whether it could command credibility when political sparring had begun before the inquiry itself.“What credibility will this inquiry command when the political theatre has begun even before it gets underway,” he asked. “The fear is that an officer’s misconduct could become a convenient weapon in a political battle, with accountability taking a back seat to the struggle for power.” Acknowledging that control over IAS officers rests with the Lieutenant Governor’s establishment at Lok Bhavan, he conceded that had Jammu and Kashmir still been a full state, the erring officer would have been promptly attached to the general administration department pending a formal inquiry.His pointed appeal that the authorities ensure such abusive and threatening conduct is not simply brushed under the carpet highlights a palpable sense of institutional helplessness, as the elected head of government found himself limited to urging action rather than ordering it.Former Jammu and Kashmir governor N.N. Vohra offered a cryptic but pointed reaction, describing the episode as “perhaps a facet of the evolving milieu”.Vohra, because of his ill health, offered no further explanation. His remark, however, takes on added significance against the widening rift between Omar Abdullah’s elected government and Lieutenant Governor Manoj Sinha.For a bureaucracy caught between two centres of power, the political contest offers a convenient cover. Neither side has an uncontested grip on the administration. Officers who know how to navigate the divide may find room to manoeuvre, while accountability gets lost in the struggle over who controls the system.Farooq Shah is a veteran journalist from Kashmir.