Another high-octane India-Pakistan match was over and more will be coming soon in the tournament. We saw a lot of theatrics in the Indian team refusing to shake hands with the vanquished Pakistan team. The Indian team’s reaction was an expression of what the Indian public feel in the aftermath of Pahalgam. This contest is jarringly out of sync with the national mood. It presents a stark contrast: a country in a state of solemn anger on one side, and a multi-million-dollar sporting carnival on the other. But does the Board of Control for Cricket in India (BCCI) care for anything other than money?
The justification provided by the board’s secretary, Devajit Saikia, is that since the Asia Cup is a “multinational competition,” a boycott is not feasible. He argues that such a move would undermine India’s ambitions to host major future events like the Olympics. This rationale, however, rings hollow for many. It positions national sentiment as subordinate to long-term logistical goals.
The government, for its part, acted with resolve following the attack, launching Operation Sindoor and banning hostile media channels. This decisive stance makes the BCCI’s decision appear disconnected from the nation’s prevailing spirit. While citizens engage in symbolic “sindoor” protests to honour our soldiers, the country’s wealthiest sporting body proceeds with business as usual, creating a dissonance that is hard to ignore.
To comprehend this decision, one must look at the unique and perplexing structure of the BCCI itself. For decades, it has functioned as a curious anomaly: an entity that performs a sovereign function by selecting ‘Team India’ to represent the nation, yet fiercely guards its autonomy from public oversight. It is an organisation with a projected revenue exceeding `10,000 crore, enjoying substantial tax benefits and state-subsidised infrastructure, all while resisting the transparency norms that govern other public-facing institutions.
The board’s most significant battle has been its steadfast opposition to being governed by the Right to Information (RTI) Act. The BCCI has consistently argued that its financial independence exempts it from public scrutiny. This insistence on opacity raises fundamental questions about its governance, especially for an organisation that has become a byword for political influence and patronage, where influential figures often find common cause.
The immense commercial success of the BCCI has also had a systemic effect on India’s larger sporting culture. Its financial gravity is so huge that it has inadvertently created a monoculture, where cricket flourishes spectacularly while other sports often languish for lack of funds, attention, and institutional support. This has led to a deeply imbalanced ecosystem, where the potential of countless athletes in other disciplines remains unfulfilled.
In what appears to be a step toward course correction, the government has tabled a new National Sports Governance Bill. This proposed legislation aims to usher in an era of accountability for all National Sports Federations. Its provisions, which include mandatory RTI compliance, the establishment of a National Sports Tribunal, and clear guidelines on the tenure of officials, could fundamentally alter the landscape of sports administration in India. As cricket is now an Olympic sport, the BCCI may find it increasingly difficult to resist integration into this new framework. However, the bill is yet to be debated and passed in Parliament, and its final form remains to be seen.
The central paradox of the BCCI remains its most indefensible trait. It cloaks itself in the Indian tricolour, selects the team that represents a billion aspirations, and leverages the full power of our national identity for commercial gain. Yet, when the time comes for public accountability, it retreats behind the legal shield of a private society. This dual identity is not an accident of history; it is a carefully constructed artifice that allows it to enjoy the privileges of a state institution with the impenetrable secrecy of a private club.
This purported guardian of Indian cricket, enriched by billions in revenue and public resources, acts with an impunity far removed from democratic accountability. Its decision to prioritise commercial interests over national sentiment is not merely a governance failure; it is a profound betrayal of the nation’s trust. This trust is squandered every time a decision is made in the shadows, every time a contract is awarded without public knowledge, and every time the board leverages the passion of a billion fans for commercial gain while refusing to answer to them. Transparency is the fundamental covenant between an institution that represents the people and the people themselves. Without it, the BCCI is not a guardian of the sport but merely its proprietor. Unless this powerful private fiefdom is subjected to rigorous public scrutiny, it will continue to place profit and politics above the very soul of Indian sport. The true price of this game is no longer measured in runs or wickets, but in the erosion of our national honour.
And the larger question is, why should we support a private charitable organisation and allow it to represent India? The question itself is the answer. We shouldn’t, at least not in its current unaccountable form. The privilege of representing India carries with it the non-negotiable responsibility of public accountability. Transparency is not a bureaucratic hurdle; it is the only mechanism to ensure that the board’s immense power is used for the advancement of cricket, not for insulating political interests, financial cronyism, or perpetuating cycles of nepotism that reward lineage over talent. Bringing the BCCI under the ambit of the RTI Act is the most crucial step in restoring this broken trust. An institution that wraps itself in the national flag must be as open to its citizens as the democracy it represents. Only then can it be truly worthy of our support.
