<p>The Karnataka High Court’s decision to take <em>suo motu</em> cognisance of rampant illegal sand mining and to signal that a court-monitored probe may be required is, on the one hand, welcome and, on the other, deeply unsettling. It amounts to an acknowledgement that the state’s enforcement machinery has failed so comprehensively that judicial intervention has become unavoidable. </p><p>What sharpens the concern is not merely the scale of the offence, but the extraordinary admission by the state’s Home Minister, G Parameshwara himself. When the minister in charge of law and order publicly confesses his “helplessness” in tackling the sand mafia, the issue ceases to be about illegal mining alone. It becomes a question of who really governs Karnataka. The High Court’s reasoning is unassailable in its clarity: when the home minister feels powerless, there can be no reasonable expectation that the police or district administration will succeed. Law enforcement functions on authority, institutional backing, and political will. Strip it of these, and it becomes ornamental, much like the state’s sand-mining STF that exists largely on paper. </p><p>More troubling is Parameshwara’s admission that “many influential people” are involved, cutting across party lines. This raises an unavoidable question: if the home minister cannot name or act against this lobby, does it not imply that it enjoys protection from higher quarters?</p>.Karnataka High Court directs probe into illegal sand mining after HM Parameshwara flags political links.<p>Illegal sand mining is not a petty offence. It is an ecological and economic crime of staggering proportions. Rivers such as the Krishna, Cauvery, and Tungabhadra are being ravaged, groundwater tables depleted, crops damaged by dust, bridges weakened, and lives lost to reckless mining trucks. The exchequer bleeds while a parallel economy flourishes, fuelled by violence, intimidation, and black money. </p><p>The rot is such that even legislators are not insulated. On the floor of the House, an MLA has stated that threats were issued merely for speaking against illegal sand mining. When elected representatives themselves fear retaliation, the vulnerability of ordinary citizens is self-evident.</p>.<p>A minister who admits he cannot protect the state’s resources, enforce the law, or shield whistle-blowers has forfeited the legitimacy of his office. How can police or district officers be expected to act with courage when the home minister himself publicly surrenders before a mafia or entrenched lobby? </p><p>When the guardian of law and order abdicates authority, the state has already lost. The High Court has struck the match. A court-monitored investigation by a Special Investigation Team is now imperative. Anything less would confirm that in Karnataka, the sand mafia is more powerful than the state itself.</p>
<p>The Karnataka High Court’s decision to take <em>suo motu</em> cognisance of rampant illegal sand mining and to signal that a court-monitored probe may be required is, on the one hand, welcome and, on the other, deeply unsettling. It amounts to an acknowledgement that the state’s enforcement machinery has failed so comprehensively that judicial intervention has become unavoidable. </p><p>What sharpens the concern is not merely the scale of the offence, but the extraordinary admission by the state’s Home Minister, G Parameshwara himself. When the minister in charge of law and order publicly confesses his “helplessness” in tackling the sand mafia, the issue ceases to be about illegal mining alone. It becomes a question of who really governs Karnataka. The High Court’s reasoning is unassailable in its clarity: when the home minister feels powerless, there can be no reasonable expectation that the police or district administration will succeed. Law enforcement functions on authority, institutional backing, and political will. Strip it of these, and it becomes ornamental, much like the state’s sand-mining STF that exists largely on paper. </p><p>More troubling is Parameshwara’s admission that “many influential people” are involved, cutting across party lines. This raises an unavoidable question: if the home minister cannot name or act against this lobby, does it not imply that it enjoys protection from higher quarters?</p>.Karnataka High Court directs probe into illegal sand mining after HM Parameshwara flags political links.<p>Illegal sand mining is not a petty offence. It is an ecological and economic crime of staggering proportions. Rivers such as the Krishna, Cauvery, and Tungabhadra are being ravaged, groundwater tables depleted, crops damaged by dust, bridges weakened, and lives lost to reckless mining trucks. The exchequer bleeds while a parallel economy flourishes, fuelled by violence, intimidation, and black money. </p><p>The rot is such that even legislators are not insulated. On the floor of the House, an MLA has stated that threats were issued merely for speaking against illegal sand mining. When elected representatives themselves fear retaliation, the vulnerability of ordinary citizens is self-evident.</p>.<p>A minister who admits he cannot protect the state’s resources, enforce the law, or shield whistle-blowers has forfeited the legitimacy of his office. How can police or district officers be expected to act with courage when the home minister himself publicly surrenders before a mafia or entrenched lobby? </p><p>When the guardian of law and order abdicates authority, the state has already lost. The High Court has struck the match. A court-monitored investigation by a Special Investigation Team is now imperative. Anything less would confirm that in Karnataka, the sand mafia is more powerful than the state itself.</p>
