“Do you feel you are a Lord and you can do anything?”
That question from the Bombay High Court to Maharashtra Food and Drug Administration Commissioner Tukaram Mundhe’s department has turned a dispute over five restaurants into a larger question about public health, executive power and judicial oversight.
The immediate dispute involved five restaurants operating from the Mumbai Cricket Association premises in Bandra Kurla Complex.The FDA had suspended their food licences. A fresh inspection found the establishments 88 per cent compliant with food safety requirements, after which the FDA agreed to withdraw its suspension orders.
The court also questioned the FDA’s objections to the restaurants being operated by Shirke Infrastructure while the licences were in the MCA’s name. The language used by the bench of Acting Chief Justice Ravindra V Ghuge and Justice Gautam Ankhad was unusually strong.
The FDA’s action was challenged by the Mumbai Cricket Association and M/s Shirke Infrastructure, represented before the High Court by senior advocates Vikram Nankani and Vineet Naik. The FDA had said that the licences were issued in the MCA’s name even though the outlets were being operated by Shirke Infrastructure, with invoices for raw materials and customers issued by Shirke.
Inspectors had also recorded hygiene, storage and food-handling deficiencies, including unclean equipment and refrigerators, poor temperature control, unhygienic thawing of frozen food and inadequate checks of cooking oil.
The High Court ordered a fresh inspection and asked the FDA to take a pragmatic approach to the licensing arrangement. After the fresh inspection, the FDA agreed to withdraw the suspension orders, allowing the five outlets to reopen while the licensing issue was reconsidered.
The important point is not that the court found the restaurants free of violations. It is that an establishment with the resources to approach the High Court was able to challenge the regulator’s action and secure relief while the matter was reconsidered.
The bench criticised the FDA for showing “undue haste” and taking a “pedantic instead of pragmatic view.”
The court also said, “How many times should we try to convince and balance equities so that the department does not feel discouraged? Why do we say, ‘Don’t kill a mosquito with a sword’?”
And then came an important qualification.
“You are doing a laudable and appreciative job, but now you are going overboard. This is not the first time this is happening. You have wronged, and now you have to resolve the issue.”
The court also warned, “We are tired of scolding the department and officers all the time. It is now time to pass stinging orders. We will issue contempt action against the concerned officers. Let them convince us or go to jail.”
So What Exactly Is Being Debated Here?
The deeper question is not simply whether the FDA followed the correct procedure. It is also about what happens when strong public-health enforcement meets businesses and other stakeholders who have the ability to challenge, negotiate or influence regulatory decisions.
Businesses affected by regulatory action can challenge it in court, approach political decision-makers or speak through industry associations. Consumers who ultimately bear the health risks of unsafe food do not have the same access.
That does not mean the Bombay High Court is deliberately protecting businesses, or that every challenge to the FDA is an attempt to weaken enforcement. There is no evidence to establish either claim. The question is whether legitimate judicial and political interventions can, in their cumulative effect, make public-health enforcement harder and whether the consumer’s interest gets enough weight when that happens.
Why Mundhe’s Crackdown Matters
Mundhe’s confrontation with the court comes after an unusually aggressive food safety campaign.
Since taking charge in May, his department has carried out more than 3,000 inspections and raids across restaurants, street food outlets, chains, dairies, clubs and food delivery businesses. Reuters reported that the campaign uncovered unhygienic kitchens, expired food and pest infestations and forced several businesses to change their practices.
Official Maharashtra FDA figures show that between May 25 and July 31, 3,137 food establishments were inspected. The department issued 764 improvement notices, suspended 165 licences and seized 28.66 lakh kg of food worth Rs 55.72 crore. Of those inspected, 2,373 establishments, or 75.6 per cent, did not require corrective action.
Mundhe has defended the scale of the action. “We have more than 10 lakh registrations or licences in the food sector, and more than 1.52 lakh in the drug sector. Compared with these numbers, the extent of the action is nothing.”
“The action is proportionate to the level of non compliance. It is not that every licence has been suspended. Some have been given improvement notices, some licences have been suspended, and some have been given time to comply.”
Here, Tukaram Mundhe explains the FDA’s food safety crackdown.
Asked whether the FDA was targeting big establishments, he said, “Not at all. The law is the same, the implementation mechanism is the same.”
He added, “Even if it is a vada pav walla, we have taken action. We have taken action against restaurants, dairies, grocery owners and chains. There is no discrimination because the law does not discriminate.”
There is a practical limitation too. Mundhe told The Week that Maharashtra would require around 900 food safety officers, while the sanctioned strength is around 350. “I would require around 900 FSOs, whereas my sanctioned strength is around 350. So that is the gap.”
He said this shortage limits the department’s ability to inspect all the establishments it is expected to cover.
Why Public Health Cannot Be Treated Lightly
The case for strong food safety enforcement is not merely rhetorical.
The World Health Organization’s 2026 updated estimates of the global burden of foodborne diseases say unsafe food causes about 866 million illnesses and 1.52 million deaths globally each year. Children under five carry 29 per cent of the health burden despite making up a much smaller share of the population.
A 2026 study published in The Lancet Global Health, based on the updated WHO estimates, similarly calculated that 42 foodborne hazards caused 866 million illnesses and 1.52 million deaths in 2021.
India’s own food safety data shows the scale of non compliance. According to data from the Food Safety and Standards Authority of India presented in a parliamentary reply, 170,535 food samples were analysed in 2024 to 2025 and 34,388 were found to be non conforming. The figure was 33,808 out of 170,513 samples in 2023 to 2024.
There is another uncomfortable fact. India’s enforcement system has problems of its own.
A CAG audit found that six food analysis laboratories tested 62,170 samples between 2020 and 2023, but 55,091 reports, or 88.61 per cent, were delayed. The audit said delays in testing and reporting could allow untested food to be consumed and affect timely corrective action.
That makes the argument for regulators who act seriously much stronger.
Read more: Influencer Posts Satirical Video On CJI Surya Kant And Judicial Corruption
What The Court Is Questioning
The High Court’s interventions do not show opposition to food safety enforcement itself.
The Indian Express reported that in at least nine cases, courts had stayed or reversed FDA licence suspensions involving restaurants, dairies, milk vendors and other establishments. The common concern was whether immediate closure was justified by a genuine health risk and whether the regulator had followed the proper procedure.
The distinction matters.
The FDA has powers to suspend licences. The question is when those powers should be used immediately and whether the affected business has been given the procedural safeguards required by law.
The FDA’s other cases show why judicial scrutiny cannot simply be characterised as opposition to enforcement. In the Cipla matter, the Bombay High Court intervened after finding that the company had not been given a proper opportunity to be heard.
The court made that distinction clear when it said, “The order is against the principles of natural justice.” The Cadila matter similarly involved questions about whether the FDA’s action was proportionate.
These interventions show that the court’s concern has been with the manner and proportionality of regulatory procedure, rather than with whether food-safety enforcement should happen at all.
When Business Interests Clash With Enforcement
In the case of Gurunanak Dairy and Sweets in Pune, the FDA suspended its licence over safety concerns, but a subsequent re-inspection recorded 98% compliance.
The business remained shut for almost 35 days and told the court it had lost around Rs 9 lakh in revenue. The High Court ultimately directed the FDA to pay Rs 5 lakh as compensation.
By contrast, when Udupi Swad in Thane approached the court after its licence was suspended for serving “analogue paneer,” the High Court refused interim relief, telling the restaurant, “Suffer for sometime like you made customers suffer by serving ‘analogue paneer’”.
The loose-edible-oil dispute provides a clearer example of how organised stakeholders can seek political intervention. On August 20, the Maharashtra FDA issued a statewide order prohibiting the sale of loose or unpackaged edible oil and requiring sealed, tamper-evident and properly labelled packaging. The FDA said the move was intended to address adulteration and traceability problems, including the absence of information such as source, batch number and packaging date.
The order triggered concerns among oil traders and small vendors about the immediate impact on their businesses. On August 24, Chief Minister Devendra Fadnavis intervened and asked the FDA to frame a standard operating procedure before enforcing the order.
On September 1, Fadnavis met a delegation of oil traders and the Maharashtra government subsequently granted traders a one-year transition period to shift to the required packaging standards. A joint committee involving FDA officials and representatives of the trading community was also proposed to work out the transition.
The episode does not establish that the government’s intervention was improper. Small traders had an argument about the cost and practicality of immediate compliance. But it does demonstrate how an organised group affected by enforcement could directly reach the political leadership and secure additional time before the regulation was fully enforced.
The front-of-pack labelling debate offers an even clearer example of organised industry resistance. Reuters reported that major food companies and industry groups had opposed front-of-pack warning system.
At a March 2026 meeting with FSSAI, Coca-Cola India executive Mili Bhattacharya argued that such symbols would be confusing and ineffective, while the India Food & Beverage Association, which represents companies including PepsiCo, also raised objections. Reuters also reported that Nestlé was a member of Indian industry lobbies that had fought earlier proposals.
The significance is not that these companies were acting illegally. Companies are entitled to participate in policymaking and argue against regulations they believe are ineffective or commercially damaging. The concern for public health arises when industry influence becomes strong enough to delay or dilute measures intended to give consumers clearer information.
Does Judicial Scrutiny Discourage Honest Officers?
A food regulator has to act before a public health crisis occurs. If officers believe that decisive action could result in judicial reprimand, contempt proceedings or personal scrutiny, they could theoretically become more cautious.
There is, however, no evidence that this has already caused Maharashtra FDA officers to stop taking action.
There is also a contrary argument. Judicial review can force regulators to document violations properly, explain the health risk and establish why immediate action was necessary instead of giving an establishment time to comply.
The VIP Question
The controversy becomes more complicated when VIP treatment enters the discussion.
The High Court had questioned whether government run establishments were receiving more lenient treatment from the FDA than private businesses. Mundhe rejected that allegation. “Absolutely not. There is no discrimination.”
Asked about the suggestion of VIP treatment, he said, “Where is it? I didn’t see it in any order. The court has, in fact, appreciated the FDA.”
The available cases do not establish that government or VIP linked establishments were systematically given preferential treatment by the FDA. But the fact that the issue was raised in court adds another dimension to the debate over whether enforcement is being applied consistently.
The episode nevertheless raises a broader question about whether the same standards are being applied consistently across establishments, regardless of who operates or controls them.
Mundhe said the Bombay High Court canteen was inspected after the issue was raised in court and that two of the three canteens there were operating without licences.
What Experts And Observers Are Saying
Consumer sector expert Ankur Bisen has offered a different perspective on why Mundhe’s campaign has found public support. “Everyone has tried to normalise this for years by saying it happens in India. It’s basically bottled up anger.”
“I have never seen anyone like Mundhe. It’s giving people hope.”
Mundhe’s own recent comments to Reuters also show how broadly he sees his regulatory role. After a Reuters investigation found differences between food products sold in India and abroad, he said, “Where are ethics in this? Companies should not only abide with legal compliances but also practice ethical behaviour. Why the different standard?”
“They have responsibility towards society,” he added. That perspective helps explain why many consumers see aggressive enforcement as overdue rather than excessive.
What People Are Saying
Social media has produced both sides of the argument.
One X/Twitter user defending Mundhe said, “Tukaram wasn’t even doing anything extra ordinary. He was merely doing his job and he’s been facing the heat for that.”
Another pushed back, saying, “He can’t go around with a vengeance shutting down businesses for his PR without following procedures.”
A third argued, “Enforcing compliance and misusing executive discretion got blurred when he prioritized popularity and rigid enforcement over natural justice.”
Another user went further and accused the courts of protecting businesses and being corrupt.
The LinkedIn Reaction
A LinkedIn post by Abhijeet Sinha has framed the controversy as part of a larger argument that judicial intervention can become a hurdle to governance.
The post is useful because it captures the argument that judicial intervention can make it harder for officials to act.
When Procedural Hurdles Shield Commercial Interests
The cases above do not establish that courts or governments are deliberately weakening food-safety enforcement for businesses. What they do show is that regulatory decisions can be challenged through different channels.
The MCA and Shirke Infrastructure went to court, oil traders approached the chief minister, and food companies and industry associations participated directly in regulatory discussions over labelling.
That distinction matters. Judicial review can correct arbitrary regulatory action, while political intervention can address legitimate implementation problems. But each intervention can also affect how quickly a public-health measure takes effect.
The question is therefore not whether businesses should have these avenues. They should. The question is whether consumers have an equivalent voice when those interventions alter enforcement.
At the same time, if a regulator can close a business without properly establishing the immediate risk or without giving it the hearing required by law, citizens and businesses lose protection from arbitrary state power.
In cases where the court finds a procedural lapse, there may be less disruptive remedies than immediately undoing enforcement. The court could, for instance, require the regulator to issue the necessary notice, complete the hearing within a fixed time and pass a reasoned order, while allowing any restrictions necessary to address an immediate and demonstrable health risk to remain in place.
Such an approach would preserve due process without automatically turning a procedural error into a wider interruption of regulatory action.
The difficult question is whether enforcing the law in the interests of public health and insisting on procedural safeguards can be achieved without one undermining the other.
Mundhe’s campaign has demonstrated why India needs regulators willing to confront unsafe practices. The WHO estimates and India’s own food safety data make clear that unsafe food is a genuine public health problem. The CAG findings also show that weak enforcement capacity and delayed testing can undermine that protection.
But the court’s interventions raise another important question. A regulator’s purpose may be legitimate while a particular action can still be procedurally wrong.
The Bombay High Court itself captured the tension when it told the FDA, “You are doing a laudable and appreciative job, but now you are going overboard.”
The larger concern is therefore not whether courts should scrutinise regulators. They should. Nor is it whether businesses should be allowed to challenge government action. They should.
The concern is the imbalance in who has access to those mechanisms.
Businesses have lawyers, industry associations and access to political decision-makers. They can challenge an order in court, meet ministers or participate in regulatory consultations. The ordinary consumer carrying the health risk has none of those institutional avenues.
That does not mean every business challenge is illegitimate, or every regulatory action is correct. It means that public-health decisions cannot be judged only by what is convenient for the regulated industry or procedurally safest for the government. The consumer who ultimately eats the food, drinks the product or buys the oil has to remain part of the equation.
Mundhe’s crackdown has shown why India needs regulators willing to act when food safety is at risk. The Bombay High Court’s interventions show why those regulators must also be accountable for how they exercise that power.
The loose-oil dispute shows how political intervention can alter the pace of enforcement, while the front-of-pack debate shows how organised industry can influence regulatory discussions. None of these examples proves that courts, politicians and businesses are acting together against public health. But they do reveal a structural imbalance in access.
Businesses can organise, litigate, lobby and and negotiate. Consumers usually cannot.
That is why the ultimate question is not simply law versus enforcement. It is whether the people who bear the health consequences of weaker enforcement have enough of a voice when powerful institutions challenge it.
Public health cannot become the weakest interest in the room simply because the people affected by it are the least organised.
Image Credits: Google Images
Sources: The Indian Express, NDTV, Hindustan Times
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This post is tagged under: Tukaram Mundhe, Bombay High Court, Maharashtra FDA, food safety India, food safety crackdown, judicial intervention, judicial accountability, public health India, FDA licence suspension, MCA restaurants, food safety violations, Tukaram Mundhe controversy, Indian judiciary, natural injustice, food regulation India
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