Editorial

Every year, on the 9th of December, the world pauses to confront a shadow that stifles development, erodes trust, and steals futures. International Anti-Corruption Day is not merely a date on the UN calendar; it is a global reminder of a relentless, pervasive enemy that operates in backrooms and boardrooms alike. Its theme, "Uniting the World Against Corruption," serves as both a diagnosis and a prescription: corruption is a transnational cancer, and only collective action can cure it.

Corruption is often dramatized as suitcases of cash or blatant bribes. But its true danger lies in its banality—the subtle distortion of processes, the quiet nepotism, the inflated contract, the ignored regulation. It is the ghost in the machine of governance and commerce, siphoning resources meant for schools, hospitals, and roads. It perverts justice, allowing the powerful to operate with impunity while the marginalized pay the price. When a citizen loses faith that a system will treat them fairly, the very social contract begins to unravel.

The cost is measured in more than currency. It is counted in stunted child growth due to misappropriated food aid, in lives lost to crumbling infrastructure built with substandard materials, and in the exodus of young talent from nations where merit is trumped by connections. It fuels inequality, destabilizes institutions, and can even become a root cause of conflict and extremism. In an era of compounding crises—from climate change to global pandemics—corruption acts as a multiplier of vulnerability, ensuring that relief never reaches those who need it most.

Yet, this day is not solely for lamentation. It is a day to recognize hard-fought progress and to recommit to the tools we have forged. The landmark United Nations Convention against Corruption (UNCAC), which this day commemorates, provides a robust framework. Whistleblower protections, transparent public procurement, open data initiatives, and a free press are the scalpels with which we can dissect corrupt networks. Across the globe, citizens, activists, and reform-minded leaders are using technology to monitor budgets, expose illicit flows, and demand accountability.

But laws and technology are inert without a culture of integrity. The fight begins with a personal refusal—the official who says "no," the business that competes fairly, the citizen who reports wrongdoing, the voter who prizes ethics over empty promises. It requires nurturing ethical leadership in every sector and educating the next generation that corruption is not an inevitable "way things are done," but a theft from their own potential.

On this International Anti-Corruption Day, let us move beyond seeing corruption as an abstract evil. Let us see it in the unfinished clinic, the underpaid teacher, and the polluted river that could have been cleaned. The call to action is for everyone: to demand transparency from our governments, ethical conduct from our businesses, and honesty from ourselves.

The world stands at a crossroads where trust in institutions is fragile. By uniting against corruption—in our words, our actions, and our choices—we do more than recover lost funds. We lay the foundation for a more just, equitable, and prosperous world for all. The thief thrives in darkness. Our greatest weapon is the unwavering light we choose to shine.

The contours of the tragedy at the nightclub have now hardened into a narrative of gross betrayal. Twenty-five lives were lost in a blaze of horrifying negligence, but the subsequent actions of the owners—fleeing the country within hours—add a layer of moral arson to the physical disaster. The belated issuance of a Look Out Circular on December 7 and the subsequent appeal to Interpol are necessary procedural steps, but they lay bare a damning sequence of failure, cowardice, and a system perennially one step behind.

The owners’ immediate exodus is an act of profound contempt. Their posted message of "profound grief" now rings hollow, a cynical performance for public consumption while they physically abscond from accountability. As the senior police officer correctly stated, this "indicates intent to evade investigation." It transforms them from mere suspects in a case of criminal negligence into active fugitives from justice. Their flight is an admission of guilt whispered across international borders.

However, the authorities must also shoulder significant blame. Why did it take until December 7 for a Look Out Circular to be issued? In a high-profile case involving such colossal loss of life and wealthy, connected individuals, securing borders and alerting agencies should have been the first, instinctive step within hours of identifying the owners were missing. This delay is symptomatic of a sluggish, reactive system that allows the powerful a crucial head start. By the time the machinery creaks into action—now requiring the CBI’s Interpol Division—the trail has gone cold, resources have been dissipated, and the chances of a swift reckoning have dimmed.

This case is a microcosm of a deeper societal sickness. It reflects a culture where the wealthy and influential believe they can operate with impunity, treating safety regulations as optional and human life as a disposable cost of doing business. And when the inevitable disaster strikes, they believe they can simply run, leveraging their resources to find sanctuary beyond the reach of domestic law. It is a belief tragically reinforced by delayed responses and procedural lags.

The pursuit via Interpol must be relentless. But justice in this case cannot be limited to extraditing two fugitives. It demands a searing examination of the regulatory environment that allowed a death trap to function. Who granted the permissions? Who overlooked the violations? The editorial fire must be directed not just at those who fled, but at the entire ecosystem of complicity that ignites such tragedies.

The 25 victims deserve more than a protracted international manhunt. They deserve a transformation. We must build a system where safety is non-negotiable, where negligence is met with swift and certain consequence, and where the gates of escape are sealed before the ashes have even cooled. To do anything less is to betray the dead a second time.

• SAS Kirmani