From Karur to Morbi: Why India's post-tragedy inquiry commissions rarely bring about reform

This is how the story goes: a major tragedy happens, television headlines flash, condolence messages pour in, an inquiry commission is set up and a retired judge is asked to head it. But what follows is often less visible. The report languishes, recommendations are not implemented, victims’ families wait and the cycle repeats.

 

On September 27, a stampede at a political rally organised by actor-politician Vijay’s Tamilaga Vettri Kazhagam in Tamil Nadu’s Karur killed at least 41 people. Massive overcrowding and poor crowd control were blamed. Immediately, the state government set up a one-member inquiry commission headed by retired High Court judge Justice Aruna Jagadeesan, and announced Rs10 lakh to the families of those killed and Rs1 lakh each for the injured. Days later, the Supreme Court ordered a CBI investigation, expressing reservations over the Madras High Court’s decision to take suo motu cognisance and order a probe by a special investigation team.

 

Yet, the central question remains: will the commission’s report ever be published in full? Will its findings be implemented? Will accountability follow? If history is any guide, the answer is often no, or not fully.

 

Once a commission is announced, several problems appear. Reports take months or years. The Liberhan Commission, set up following the 1992 demolition of the Babri Masjid, took 17 years to submit its report. By then, several key witnesses had died or retired, and the political context had changed entirely.

 

In other cases, commissions have been appointed and forgotten. After the 2015 Godavari Pushkaram stampede in Andhra Pradesh, where 29 people died, the inquiry commission blamed media hype for the event and not systemic failures. Its detailed findings were never widely discussed, and no major crowd management reforms followed. Similarly, after the 2022 Morbi bridge collapse in Gujarat that killed 135 people, an SIT found corrosion in cables, improper welding and overcrowding because of unregulated ticketing. Yet, systemic reform remains elusive. The government has been accused of shielding key officials, and the full SIT report has not been publicly released. The same template played out in the 2018 Amritsar Dussehra train tragedy (59 deaths), the 2019 Surat coaching centre fire (22 deaths) and the 2024 Hathras stampede (121 deaths).

 

The root of this pattern lies partly in the Commissions of Inquiry Act, 1952, which governs most such investigations. It allows governments, both Centre and states, to decide the commission’s terms of reference, appoint its members, set its timelines and, crucially, keep its report confidential or release only parts of it. These commissions are recommendatory and their findings do not automatically lead to criminal prosecutions or administrative penalties. Implementation depends entirely on the political will of the government that appointed them, which is often the same government under scrutiny.

 

The Srikrishna Commission, which investigated the 1992-93 Mumbai riots, submitted a 700-page report naming political figures and officials responsible for lapses. The report was tabled, but never acted upon. The Nanavati-Mehta Commission, on the 2002 Gujarat riots, submitted its findings after 17 years and multiple extensions. Implementation of its recommendations remains selective. In 2020, the Justice Aruna Jagadeesan Commission—headed by the same judge probing the Karur tragedy—investigated police firing during the Thoothukudi Sterlite protests that killed 13 civilians. While the report was tabled in the Tamil Nadu assembly in 2022, few of its recommendations on police accountability were implemented.

 

“Commissions in India often serve as shock absorbers for public anger,” says Faizan Mustafa, a constitutional law expert and vice-chancellor of Chanakya National Law University, Patna. “They defuse pressure, buy governments time, and by the time reports are ready, the political heat has cooled.”

 

Even when commissions work swiftly, governments sometimes sit on the reports. Under the Act, there is no time limit for publication. In many cases, reports have been sealed indefinitely. For instance, the Justice Gokulakrishnan Commission’s report on the 1998 Coimbatore bomb blasts was never made public.

 

When reports are finally published, implementation tends to be partial at best. For instance, the Kumbh Mela stampedes. Almost every commission recommended crowd-flow management systems, barricade design and emergency exits. Yet, these remain largely advisory.

 

The National Disaster Management Authority guidelines on crowd management incorporate many of these lessons. However, compliance is left to states, with no penalty for non-implementation. A senior government official who did not want to be named told THE WEEK, “Crowd management reforms remain guidelines without teeth. Unless states are audited for compliance, we will keep issuing advisories after every tragedy.”

 

Even when failures are identified, accountability rarely extends beyond the lower rungs. Contractors, junior engineers or local police officers are made scapegoats. Senior bureaucrats or ministers who approve unsafe projects, delay clearances or ignore warnings often escape scrutiny.

 

“India’s inquiry commissions are structurally toothless,” says former Supreme Court judge Justice Hrishikesh Roy. “Unless findings are tied to legal consequences, they serve little more than symbolic purpose.”

 

For victims’ families, the consequences are devastating. Families of those killed in the 2017 Elphinstone Road station stampede in Mumbai say they were promised reforms in station design and evacuation routes. Yet, eight years later, crowding continues.

 

“We have turned commissions into ritual responses to public outrage,” says Supreme Court lawyer Satyam Singh Rajput. “They are set up quickly, submit voluminous reports and then vanish into bureaucratic oblivion. Unless the law mandates time-bound implementation and oversight, every new commission will only repeat the failures of the last.”

 

Added M. Bhatia, a public policy expert: “Reforming the inquiry process requires stronger laws and far greater transparency. Commission reports should be tabled in the legislature within a fixed time frame and made public. Each inquiry must operate within clear deadlines, and an independent oversight body should monitor whether governments actually act on recommendations. Most important, the process must be victim-centric. Families deserve access to full reports, participation in hearings and regular updates. Justice cannot remain a promise on paper; it must be seen to be done.”

 

When inquiry commissions fail, the public begins to see them as performative. The cost of this is not only emotional, but also institutional. Citizens lose faith in government promises, administrations lose credibility and the machinery of justice loses moral authority.

 

So, until these commissions serve as genuine instruments of accountability, the only things that will change are the names of the tragedies.

The Week