When the Telangana government launched the Hyderabad Disaster Response and Asset Protection Agency (HYDRAA), it promised a new era of urban governance. The stated objective was noble and necessary—to reclaim government lands, protect lakes and water bodies, restore drainage channels, and prevent Hyderabad from sinking under the weight of decades of illegal encroachments.
Few could have objected to such a mission. After all, lakes have disappeared, nalas have shrunk, and concrete has swallowed natural waterways. If HYDRAA intended to restore the rule of law, it deserved public support.
But the question that increasingly confronts Telangana today is not whether encroachments should be removed. The real question is whether HYDRAA has remained an impartial enforcement agency—or whether it has gradually become a political weapon.
That question refuses to go away.
The agency’s style of functioning has itself become controversial. Victims, civil rights activists and legal experts have repeatedly questioned what they describe as a disturbing pattern—early morning demolitions, inadequate notices, lack of proper hearings and the apparent absence of due process. The Telangana High Court has not minced words while reprimanding HYDRAA, remarking that authorities appeared to be “demolishing first and justifying later.” Such judicial observations cannot simply be brushed aside as political rhetoric.
More troubling is the growing perception of selective enforcement.
The Revanth Reddy government insists that no encroacher is above the law. If that is indeed the principle, it must apply uniformly. Unfortunately, critics point to several glaring exceptions. For months, opposition parties—particularly the BJP—have alleged that while HYDRAA acts with extraordinary speed against ordinary homeowners, commercial establishments and individuals perceived to be politically inconvenient, it becomes remarkably cautious when questions arise regarding influential institutions linked to the AIMIM.
Whether these allegations are ultimately proven or not is almost secondary. In governance, perception often carries as much weight as action. Once people begin believing that the law is being applied selectively, public confidence in the institution starts eroding.
This perception becomes stronger when one considers Hyderabad’s long history of encroachments. Illegal constructions on lakes, buffer zones and government lands did not emerge overnight. They flourished over successive governments, often with official approvals, administrative negligence or political patronage. Thousands of middle-class families purchased properties believing them to be legally sanctioned because government departments themselves issued permissions, registrations and utility connections.
Years later, those very citizens are paying the price.
It is difficult to justify demolishing homes of unsuspecting buyers while those who enabled the violations—builders, officials and politically connected beneficiaries—often escape equivalent scrutiny. Justice cannot be one-sided.
Even more uncomfortable are allegations that massive constructions allegedly occupying sensitive lands and associated with politically influential quarters continue to remain untouched. If HYDRAA genuinely seeks to restore Hyderabad’s ecological balance, it cannot afford visible exceptions. Lakes do not recognize political parties. Neither should law enforcement.
This is precisely where the government’s narrative begins to weaken.
The Chief Minister repeatedly argues that HYDRAA is protecting Hyderabad’s future. That objective deserves appreciation. Environmental protection cannot be postponed indefinitely. Encroachments on lakes and storm-water drains have directly contributed to urban flooding, water scarcity and ecological degradation.
But environmental justice loses its moral authority when it appears politically selective.
A truly credible HYDRAA would publish transparent criteria for identifying violations, ensure adequate legal notice, provide opportunities for appeal, and proceed against every encroachment—whether owned by an ordinary citizen, a powerful businessman or a politically influential institution. Uniformity is the strongest defence against allegations of bias.
Otherwise, every demolition raises uncomfortable questions. Is it about protecting lakes? Or protecting political interests?
Institutions derive legitimacy not merely from the laws that create them but from the fairness with which they exercise power.
HYDRAA was established to protect Hyderabad’s public assets, not to become another instrument in the political arsenal of the government of the day. If the Revanth Reddy government truly believes in restoring the rule of law, it must first demonstrate that the law has only one colour—not the colour of political convenience.
Until that happens, the suspicion will persist that HYDRAA is demolishing more than illegal structures. It is steadily demolishing public trust.
HYDRAA was established to protect Hyderabad’s public assets, not to become another instrument in the political arsenal of the government of the day.
