By Yashveer Gungah
In democratic societies, justice must not only be done, but it must also be seen to be done. But when justice begins to resemble political theatre, public trust erodes, and the institutions meant to protect democracy start to work against it. This is the concern now gripping Mauritius, as a wave of politically sensitive investigations by the Federal Commission on Corruption (FCC) raises uncomfortable questions about motivation, fairness, and the very definition of accountability.
The case of Maradiva Villas and its CEO Sanjiv Ramdanee is not an isolated incident. It is part of a pattern a growing list of probes that disproportionately target individuals affiliated with previous administrations. The allegations involving Rs114 million are serious, no doubt, but so are the implications of how such cases are handled. If public institutions become tools of political score-settling, the consequences could be far-reaching and lasting.
Historian and political analyst Rémi Fortier sees troubling signs in the current wave of investigations. “This isn’t the first time in Mauritius where we’ve seen judicial mechanisms repurposed for political ends,” he says. “In the past, regimes have subtly used agencies and legal bodies to discredit rivals or silence critics. The danger now is that we’re witnessing the same tactics dressed in the language of reform.”
What makes these concerns more pressing is the silence from within the government on safeguarding judicial independence. While anti-corruption rhetoric remains loud, there has been little in the way of internal accountability or self-examination. Dr. Nicole Mercier, an economist and governance researcher, believes that this silence is deafening: “A government that loudly investigates others but never looks inward invites suspicion. Real reform means starting with yourself, not just attacking the people who came before you.”
The stakes extend well beyond political optics. Mauritius’s global reputation as a trusted jurisdiction for tourism, investment, and commerce depends on institutional transparency and consistency. “Foreign investors are paying attention,” warns Priyanka Dass, a risk consultant for East African markets. “They’re asking: If this can happen to a high-profile resort CEO, what happens to a foreign investor when politics shift?”
Even within Mauritius, there is growing unease. Civic leader Shailen Mootoosamy, who heads a legal aid NGO, notes that everyday citizens are beginning to lose faith in what they see as selective justice. “People aren’t blind. They see who gets investigated and who doesn’t. They see how fast one person’s name hits the headlines while another’s quietly disappears.”
It’s not just about the Maradiva case. Critics point to a broader double standard in the political culturewhere proximity to power protects some, while past associations convict others in the court of public opinion before any evidence is shown.
Legal scholar Aline Bertrand is especially concerned about how this climate affects the rule of law. “When justice is used as a political tool,” she says, “it loses its legitimacy. And once that’s gone, regaining it becomes very difficult. The danger isn’t just to those being targeted it’s to everyone.”
That erosion of legitimacy has deep ripple effects. If the public no longer trusts that the FCC, the courts, or the media are fair and impartial, then every future investigation no matter how warranted it will be viewed through a lens of cynicism. And in that atmosphere, actual wrongdoing is harder to address, not easier.
David Sinclair, an international human rights observer who has worked across Africa and Southeast Asia, sees a familiar trajectory: “In many young democracies, the path from accountability to authoritarianism starts subtly. It begins with ‘just one investigation,’ then another, until it becomes impossible to tell if truth is being pursued or power is being protected.
So where does this leave Mauritius?
If the nation is to protect its democratic credibility, its economic attractiveness, and its moral compass, then the answer cannot be endless rounds of politically selective investigations. Real work, the hard work is in reforming institutions, holding everyone to the same standard, and ensuring that justice serves the people, not just the powerful.
Until then, every new investigation will carry out a question mark. Not just of guilt or innocence but of intention.
