New Delhi: The Delhi Gymkhana Club, a bastion of the capital’s elite, is on the brink of collapse. The news broke late last night. A leaked internal audit reveals debts topping £50 million. The club, whose membership includes diplomats, industrialists, and at least two former prime ministers, may close its doors within weeks.
This isn’t an isolated incident. It’s a symptom. The decay of India’s elite institutions is accelerating. The Gymkhana, founded in 1913, once symbolised the apex of imperial privilege. Today, its colonial-era lawns are empty. Its famed bar, where deals were sealed and careers unmade, is quiet.
The trouble started quietly. Rising maintenance costs. A membership that is greying and shrinking. Younger elites prefer Dubai or London. They don’t queue for Sunday brunch. They don’t care about the club’s silver cup collection.
Then came the tax disputes. The club lost its charitable status last year. The tax bill was retroactive. £10 million demanded. The club borrowed. Then borrowed more.
But the real killer is internal. A power struggle between the old guard and a reformist faction has paralysed decision-making. No one agrees on a rescue plan. The old guard wants to raise membership fees. The reformers want to sell the club’s art collection, including a rare Ravi Varma. Neither side has the votes.
The government is watching. Quietly. Sources say the Prime Minister’s Office is concerned. Not about the club. About the signal. If the Gymkhana falls, what next? The Delhi Golf Club? The Imperial Hotel? These are not just social spaces. They are networks. Where influence is traded.
One member, a retired civil servant, put it bluntly: “If the club goes, a certain kind of Delhi ends. The Delhi where power had a face. Where you could meet a minister in the lift. That’s gone.”
He’s not wrong. The decline of elite institutions mirrors a wider shift. India’s old power structures are fraying. The rise of new money, the centralisation of authority in the PMO, the decline of old media. All of it chips away at these citadels.
The club’s board will meet this weekend. They will discuss selling the club’s historic building. A developer has already offered £200 million. But many members resist. They say it’s a betrayal of heritage.
Privately, officials admit the club may not survive. The land is too valuable. The debts too large. The will too weak.
For now, the drinks trolley still does its rounds. But the ice is melting. And no one is refilling it.
