The Bangalore Turf Club finds itself trapped in a governance crisis of its own making, where personal vendettas, intimidation and unchecked authority have replaced institutional discipline. Senior functionaries have sounded repeated alarms, warning that autocratic conduct, silencing of dissent and the collapse of regulatory oversight have paralysed administration. The glanders shutdown is not an isolated accident, but the inevitable outcome of a system allowed to rot unchecked.

There has been a steady and disturbing stream of letters from senior functionaries of the Bangalore Turf Club, men with decades of experience on the Managing Committee, all pointing to the same uncomfortable truth: the Club is drifting into a governance crisis of its own making. These are not casual complaints or personal vendettas, but repeated red flags warning that unless corrective action is taken immediately, racing at Bangalore risks acquiring a reputation that may prove difficult, if not impossible, to reverse

At the centre of this turmoil is Steward Uday Eswaran, whose conduct has increasingly come to symbolise the club`s slide from collective governance to personalised authority. His aggression towards officials and colleagues alike is no secret. He made no attempt to hide his intent when he declared that upon his re-election he would ensure the removal of Secretary Kiran, against whom he bore a long-standing grievance, unless the latter resigned voluntarily. That threat, astonishingly, was not checked by the institution but instead allowed to hang over the administration like a loaded weapon.

This pattern has repeated itself. Eswaran`s openly hostile letter against the Chief Stipendiary Steward culminated in yet another forced exit. Officials at the Turf Club now function not under clearly defined rules or institutional safeguards, but at the whim of individuals who wield power without accountability. When officials survive by guessing whose displeasure to avoid rather than by following protocol, democracy within an organisation is already buried.

Uday Eswaran`s earlier term was equally notorious for his tendency to take on anyone he perceived as hostile, including initiating legal proceedings against those who wrote about the club`s internal shenanigans. The inevitable result was not vindication but financial loss to the club, which bled legal fees in battles it could neither morally nor legally sustain. Litigation became a tool of intimidation, striking at democratic rights and free expression rather than addressing the rot within.

This autocratic mindset is not new. In his earlier stint as steward, Eswaran had even suggested that anyone questioning the Managing Committee should be punished. That thinking has since hardened into an administrative culture where dissent is crushed, officials are routinely turned into scapegoats, and even fellow committee members and former colleagues are treated as expendable. He is ably assisted by Ashok Raghavan and Aravind Raghavan, whose relentless, coordinated letter-writing campaigns have earned them an unenviable reputation. Together, they have succeeded in creating a toxic environment where survival depends less on competence and integrity, and more on staying in favour of those who believe they own the club.

Predictably, such dominance flourishes only because others remain silent. There are stewards who are either too meek or too compromised to intervene. Mahesh Medappa, who headed the disastrous Veterinary Sub-Committee, stands out for his steadfast support of a Chief Veterinary Officer whose tenure has coincided with the current catastrophe engulfing the club. Under this regime, the Chief Vet has been granted unbridled authority, to the point where his word is treated as law.

The consequences of this concentration of power have been devastating. As publicly highlighted by Dr Dinesh, no fewer than 13 veterinarians have quit the Club, not in search of greener pastures, but to escape a toxic work culture. The Chief Vet, by all insider accounts, knows exactly whom to please and whom he can afford to target, depending on the signals from his political masters. Certain trainers aligned with him enjoy remarkable latitude, reinforcing the perception that rules apply selectively.

The institutional collapse is more evident in the Veterinary Department, arguably the most critical arm of any turf authority. What should be a system governed by checks, balances and independent regulatory oversight has instead been reduced to a one-man show. There is no clear power structure, no independent regulatory veterinarian, and no separation between treating authority and oversight. This lopsided arrangement has directly contributed to the paralysis now gripping the Club.

The glanders outbreak has brutally exposed these failures. Horses exhibiting symptoms were treated repeatedly with antibiotics without a definitive diagnosis, reportedly leading to secondary fungal infections and worsening the situation. Despite clear warning signs, samples for glanders testing were sent only on December 2, and that too after sustained insistence from members of the Veterinary Sub-Committee, particularly Dr Dinesh. By then, the damage was done. Racing will be shut down for a minimum of three months, with the denotification process involving government agencies likely to stretch the timeline further. Optimism would mean hoping for racing to resume by May.

This is not merely a temporary setback. It is a systemic failure with long-term consequences. Racing has come to a standstill, administration is paralysed, confidence among stakeholders has been shattered, and the Club`s credibility with government authorities is under strain. If these governance failures, personality-driven vendettas and the absence of regulatory oversight are allowed to continue, the consequences will be disastrous, not just for Bangalore Turf Club, but for the very survival of the sport in the region.

The crisis has arrived. Whether the Club chooses to confront it or continue sleepwalking into deeper damage will determine its future.