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By:

Rajendra Joshi

3 December 2024 at 3:50:26 am

Procurement first, infrastructure later

Procurement at multiples of market price; equipment before infrastructure; no accountability Kolhapur: Maharashtra’s Medical Education and Public Health Departments have been on an aggressive drive to expand public healthcare infrastructure. Daily announcements of new centres, advanced equipment and expanded services have reassured citizens long denied dependable public healthcare. Procurement of medical equipment, medicines and surgical supplies is reportedly being undertaken at rates two to...

Procurement first, infrastructure later

Procurement at multiples of market price; equipment before infrastructure; no accountability Kolhapur: Maharashtra’s Medical Education and Public Health Departments have been on an aggressive drive to expand public healthcare infrastructure. Daily announcements of new centres, advanced equipment and expanded services have reassured citizens long denied dependable public healthcare. Procurement of medical equipment, medicines and surgical supplies is reportedly being undertaken at rates two to ten times higher than prevailing market prices. Basic economics dictates that bulk government procurement ought to secure better rates than private buyers, not worse. During the Covid-19 pandemic, equipment and consumables were procured at five to ten times the market rate, with government audit reports formally flagging these irregularities. Yet accountability has remained elusive. The pattern is illustrated vividly in Kolhapur. The Dean of Rajarshi Shahu Government Medical College announced that a PET scan machine worth Rs 35 crore would soon be installed at Chhatrapati Pramilaraje (CPR) Government Hospital for cancer diagnosis. But a comparable machine is available in the market for around Rs 6.5 crore. A senior cancer surgeon at a major cancer hospital in western Maharashtra, where a similar machine was recently installed, remarked that the gap between what his hospital paid and what the government is reportedly paying was enough to make one ‘feel dizzy’. The label of a ‘turnkey project’ does not adequately explain a price differential of this magnitude. High Costs CPR Hospital recently had a state-of-the-art IVF centre approved at a sanctioned cost of Rs 7.20 crore. Senior fertility specialists across Maharashtra note that even a modern IVF centre with advanced reproductive technology equipment typically costs between Rs 2.5 crore and Rs 3 crore. The state’s outlay is reportedly approaching Rs 15 crore. Equipment arrived in June 2025 and lay idle for months owing to indecision about the site. Similarly, digital X-ray machines approved for CPR Hospital and a government hospital in Nanded; available in the market for roughly Rs 1.5 crore; were reportedly procured at Rs 9.98 crore per unit. Doctors in CPR’s radiology department, apprehensive about being drawn into potential inquiries, reportedly resisted accepting the equipment. One departmental head was transferred amid disagreements over signing off on the proposal. What’s Wrong These cases point to a deeper structural failure: Maharashtra has perfected what might be called the ‘equipment first, infrastructure later’ model. In any public hospital, the administrative sequence ought to be: identify space, create infrastructure, sanction specialist posts, and only then procure equipment. Compounding the procurement paradox is a parallel policy decision. On 20 December 2025, the state government decided to introduce radiology diagnostic services through a Public-Private Partnership model (PPP). Following this, an order issued on 6 February 2026 authorised private operators to provide PET scan, MRI and CT scan services at six government medical college hospitals: in Pune, Kolhapur, Miraj, Sangli, Mumbai and Baramati. CPR already has a 126-slice CT scan machine and a 3 Tesla MRI scanner, with another CT scan proposed. If the PPP arrangement proceeds, the hospital could simultaneously run one PET scan machine, two MRI scanners and three CT scan machines. Medical experts warn this could lead to unnecessary diagnostic testing simply to keep machines occupied, thus exposing patients to excess radiation while government-owned equipment gathers dust. A similar pattern was seen during the pandemic, when the Medical Education Department spent hundreds of crores on RT-PCR machines, only to award swab-testing contracts to a private company. Many of those machines remain unused today.

China’s ‘Super Embassy’ in the Heart of London: Necessity or Power Play?

What will Britain decide? Lead the way in challenging fortress diplomacy, or allow Beijing to have its way?

China has announced plans for a vast new embassy in London, which will be its largest in Europe. The proposed site at Royal Mint Court is close to the financial district and historic landmarks. The scale of the project has sparked heated debate in the UK, raising issues far beyond the construction itself. On the surface, it may appear to be a matter of planning permissions and design, but it has become a case study in sovereignty, security, and how buildings can symbolise geopolitical power.

 

The Role of Embassies in Diplomacy

Embassies are more than administrative offices for visas or citizen support; they symbolise a nation’s power, identity, and influence abroad. Since the Vienna Convention of 1961, they have enjoyed privileges such as immunity from local jurisdiction and protection of staff and property. Yet an embassy remains under the sovereignty of the host nation, which regulates construction, zoning, and security. Once operational, however, its internal activities are largely beyond oversight.


Historically, an embassy’s size and location have carried symbolic weight. Smaller missions communicate practicality and limited influence, while larger, fortified compounds serve as statements of global ambition. China’s proposed “super embassy” in London fits squarely into this tradition of using architecture as a projection of national prestige and power.

 

The UK Case

Royal Mint Court, selected for the new Chinese embassy, is no ordinary site. It lies close to the City of London, a global financial hub, and near heritage landmarks visited by millions. From the outset, planning applications drew scrutiny, with several blueprints heavily redacted, fuelling suspicion of hidden facilities. Critics argued that transparency is vital for a project of such strategic importance.


Locals voiced concerns that the complex, with its scale and security perimeter, would disrupt community life and restrict access to heritage areas. They questioned emergency access, protest management, and the impact of a fortress-like structure in such a prominent location. Tower Hamlets Council rejected the application in 2022, but the matter was later referred to the central government.


The UK government has postponed its final decision until October. Ministers face a delicate balance: approving the project could be interpreted as capitulation to China, while blocking it may provoke diplomatic retaliation, including restrictions on Britain’s own plans for a new embassy in Beijing. The delay reveals the depth of the dilemma.


China insists the plan is a practical necessity. With over 200,000 Chinese students and a sizeable diaspora in the UK, the embassy is overstretched. But it is also about cultural diplomacy: Beijing wants the site to serve as a hub for art, education, and soft power. For policymakers, the compound is both functional and symbolic.


At its core, the project reflects what scholars call China’s “fortress diplomacy”–designed not only to manage consular workload but to project power, resilience, and permanence in Europe.


Critics see ulterior motives. Intelligence analysts note that the site’s position, overlooking the financial district, makes it well-suited for surveillance. Even limited operations could give Beijing a powerful view of financial and governmental activity.


The compound’s scale implies space for more than routine staff. Human rights groups fear it could be used to monitor dissidents and intimidate activists, from Hong Kong exiles to Uyghur campaigners. Others warn of influence efforts targeting politicians, universities, and media. The site may also draw protests during flare-ups over Hong Kong, Taiwan, or Xinjiang.


Diplomatically, Britain faces a dilemma. Rejecting the plan risks retaliation against its embassy in Beijing; approving it risks looking weak to allies and citizens. Politically, secrecy over planning papers has already eroded trust, with ministers accused of withholding information and jeopardising security.


Global Context

The proposed “super embassy” in London is part of a wider trend. China has recently built oversized, heavily fortified embassies from Islamabad to Addis Ababa. Often larger than those of other nations, they signal not just administrative needs but geopolitical intent. These sites act as nodes in a global influence network, blending diplomacy with strategic positioning. Similar concerns over surveillance and influence have surfaced in Canberra and Brussels.


The row over China’s “super embassy” in London is a test of how democracies handle Beijing’s ambitions. Britain’s decision will signal not only to China but also to its allies and citizens.


Geopolitics is not just about summits or military moves; it is written into the buildings states construct abroad. What looks like a planning issue is, in fact, about sovereignty, security, and power in the 21st century.


(The writer is a foreign affairs expert. Views personal.)

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