Cockroaches do not dwell solely in sewers. Some inhabit marble corridors. They walk not in darkness, but under bright chandeliers. They do not abhor rot; rather, putrefaction is their sustenance. Wherever transparency prevails, they cannot survive; but wherever the humidity of patronage, connections, flattery, and intrigue is available, their breed multiplies with startling rapidity.
The recent protest staged by the "Cockroach Party" at Jantar Mantar in Delhi prompted me to pause and reflect: who are the real cockroaches? Those ordinary souls demanding their rights at Jantar Mantar have merely become a voice for justice; the true cockroaches are those who have turned nations into cesspools, hollowing out genuine talent from within. The question then arises: which of them is more perilous? Those crawling behind domestic walls, or those who colonize the inner sanctums of institutions and administrative offices?
An office is not an individual's personal empire; it is a sacred trust. This is particularly true for offices affiliated with eminent jurists (Maraji') and the Supreme Leadership (Wali al-Faqih). These establishments are not merely bureaucratic nerve centers; they stand as emblems of community trust, hope, and selfless service. Justice ought to flow from their doors; the fragrance of sincerity should emanate from within; competent minds should find encouragement here. Yet, when institutional cockroaches infiltrate these sacred spaces, fragrance gives way to stench, and hope curdles into despair.
Regrettably, from Iraq to Iran, and from Iran to India, certain offices appear afflicted by a silent pathology. Entrenched within them for years are individuals lacking the illumination of knowledge, breadth of intellect, strategic planning capability, and any genuine concern for the community's future. Their sole qualification is an expertise in climbing the ladders of personal patronage. They know precisely which threshold to linger by, before whom to bow, whose ego to inflate with hyperbolic praise, and into whose ear to quietly pour poison against a rival.
These figures never leave an intellectual footprint in the scholarly arena. Beyond twirling their metaphorical antennae—often while posing for a self-serving photograph—they contribute nothing, yet they consistently triumph in the game of political maneuvering. A dedicated student spends decades buried in books, travels exhaustively, conducts rigorous research, serves society, and refines their character; yet the stature they fail to attain after decades of toil, these opportunists seize through a handful of recommendations, curated photographs, and strategic connections.
It is precisely at this juncture that institutions embark upon their decline.
The greatest terror for these bureaucratic pests is genuine talent. They recognize that knowledge, integrity, and authentic expertise threaten their survival in the exact same manner pesticide threatens a cockroach. Consequently, they form a unified front against the capable. Their arsenal includes character assassination, fostering suspicion, fabricating reports, closing doors, blocking pathways, and obstructing access to forums where visionaries could have made a lasting mark on history. Left without an institutional fumigant, they multiply, colonizing commemorative gatherings to spawn yet another generation of sycophants before retreating to their nests. They stifle merit sometimes through brazen nepotism, and at other times through quiet boycotts. To them, anyone capable of preventing the institution from degenerating into a cesspool is an enemy.
They are a peculiar breed: they produce nothing themselves, yet unfailingly eliminate those who create. They offer no original vision, yet scatter thorns along the path of visionaries. They render no meaningful service, yet employ every stratagem to sabotage those who do.
Today, wherever such elements dominate institutions from Qom to Delhi—cloaked behind ornate robes, glistening shawls, and an aura of manufactured dignity—the greatest casualty is not any single individual, but the integrity of religious authority (Marja'iyyah) itself. When ordinary people walk away from an office disillusioned, their grievance does not remain confined to a single employee; doubts take root regarding the entire establishment. That produces a wound that takes decades to heal.
History bears witness that great empires fall less to external conquest and far more to the incompetence of internal custodians. Termites gnawing silently within the woodwork have always proven more destructive than siege artillery. The cockroaches embedded within our institutions represent modern manifestations of that very rot. They quietly feed upon trust, devour hope, swallow merit, and then brazenly profess unwavering fidelity to the very institutions they hollow out.
The hour has arrived to acknowledge that sweeping the physical floors of our buildings is insufficient; the cleaning must be systemic. The governing metric must be merit rather than connections, service rather than recommendations, integrity rather than sycophancy. Above all, sincere and capable individuals must be shielded, for the true strength of an institution lies not in its physical masonry, but in its character.
If leadership fails to act decisively today, these pests will lay more eggs, assemble larger cliques, swallow more gifted minds, and eventually generate an unbearable stench that deters the faithful from ever crossing these institutional thresholds. By then, even the strongest pesticide will arrive too late.
Institutions must be defended from these internal custodians-turned-usurpers long before they face external adversaries.
When an office is hollowed of genuine service, it becomes nothing more than a hollow shell—and when a building is surrendered to cockroaches, it breeds no illumination, only rot.
