The Anatomy of Reckless Trade Unionism: Ganesan & AIBOA
There is a well-known saying:
“When all you have is a hammer, everything looks like a nail.”
In the present context, this observation seems strikingly apt. For Mr. Ganesan and AIBOA, every issue, be it transfers, administration, or policy, appears to demand only one response: write a letter, circulate it on social media, create confusion among officers, and attempt to secure membership.
Their recent communications to management, ostensibly expressing concern over unethical practices and officer welfare, are in reality little more than political theatrics, illogical, unwarranted, and recklessly crafted. They project concern without substance, opposition without reasoning, and activism without responsibility. A careful reading of these letters reveals a singular pattern: everything must be opposed, regardless of merit. There are no solutions offered, no constructive suggestions, no logical conclusions, only relentless negativity designed to instill fear and uncertainty among officers.
The strategy is neither new nor sophisticated. It is, in fact, an unfortunate cycle—mislead officers, secure membership, abandon them when reality surfaces, and then seek new victims.
Indeed, many officers today are asking a simple but piercing question:
Where were these self-proclaimed “messiahs of officers” between 2022 and 2025?
Those were the years when officers endured unprecedented pressure, humiliation, and systemic distress. Those were the years when dignity was compromised, when transfers were weaponised, when disciplinary proceedings were misused, and when even senior functionaries faced harassment. It was a period marked by institutional strain, unhealthy practices, and widespread disillusionment.
And during that time—there was silence.
No resistance. No intervention. No concern.
A silence that was not just passive, but culpable.
While AIBOC was actively confronting these challenges, this minority union chose instead to align comfortably with the management of that period.
Contrast that with the present. The current top management has issued clear and unequivocal directions: no harassment, no humiliation, no unethical practices, no artificial pressure to “green” performance metrics. These are not cosmetic adjustments, it represents a deliberate effort to correct the past.
Officers across platforms are voluntarily expressing their relief and appreciation for the improved environment. These are not orchestrated narratives; they are genuine reflections from the field. Attempting to distort this reality for publicity or to create fear is not just misleading— it is irresponsible.
Certainly, isolated incidents may still arise. And when they do, they must be addressed firmly and specifically. That is the essence of responsible trade unionism not blanket opposition, not alarmism, and certainly not theatrics for membership mobilisation.
Simultaneously, another pattern is emerging. Alongside these letters, targeted messages are being circulated via WhatsApp, urging officers to join this minority union. The approach is predictable: raise alarm, create fear, promise protection, and convert that fear into membership.
Officers have seen this before.
Promises of stopping transfers.
Assurances of legal victories.
Commitments of relief through court interventions.
And the outcome?
Officers left stranded. Cases lost. Members abandoned, forced to defend themselves in courts after the union’s legal misadventures collapsed.
It is difficult to describe this as anything other than a cycle of exploitation, membership mobilisation followed by abandonment.
Perhaps the most alarming development today is the sustained attempt to derail the request transfer process. For thousands of officers, this is not a policy issue, it is a matter of personal survival. It is about reuniting with families, caring for children, supporting aged parents, and restoring a semblance of balance in life.
If this process is obstructed by unnecessary legal adventurism, it is not the union that will suffer, it is the officers.
There is, however, an even deeper issue—accountability.
Trade union leadership is meaningful only when it carries responsibility for consequences. When leaders are part of the system, they share the burden of their decisions. But when one operates from outside—retired, insulated from transfers, unaffected by institutional pressures—it becomes easier to indulge in experimentation. Letters can be written, cases can be filed, agitation can be attempted, without bearing the cost.
And the record, in this case, speaks for itself:
A history of failed legal interventions.
Promises without delivery.
Actions without accountability.
The perception that emerges is unmistakable:
A perception of unreliability.
A perception of opportunism.
A perception, quite simply, of failure.
Trade unionism is not about noise. It is not about drama.
It is about responsibility.
And today’s officers understand that distinction clearly.
They are watching. They are assessing. And in due course, they will respond decisively.
Because, as Abraham Lincoln wisely said:
“You can fool all the people some of the time, and some of the people all the time, but you cannot fool all the people all the time.”
Sreenath Induchoodan
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