The body count stands at 15. The scene: a textile factory in North India, reduced to a smouldering shell. The cause: a short circuit, a locked fire exit, a familiar tragedy. But this time, the fallout is different. This time, the British safety auditors are sharpening their knives.
Whitehall sources say a team from the UK's Health and Safety Executive (HSE) was already on site last month, carrying out a routine audit for a British retailer sourcing from the factory. Their report, leaked to this bureau, paints a damning picture: overloaded electricals, inadequate fire escapes, a culture of corner-cutting. Recommendations were ignored. Now, there are 15 dead.
This is not just another industrial accident. This is a test case. The HSE, emboldened by the post-Grenfell crackdown on corporate liability, is pushing for a global clampdown on supply chain safety. I have seen the draft proposal circulating among Whitehall departments. It demands compulsory international safety audits, mandatory public disclosure of breaches, and a new legal duty of care for British companies operating abroad.
Business lobbyists are in a flat spin. They argue this is regulatory overreach, a cost burden that will hit UK competitiveness. But the political calculus is shifting. The factory is in Uttar Pradesh, a state run by India's ruling BJP. The fire broke out during night shift, trapping workers behind sealed doors. The stories emerging from survivors are harrowing: families demanding answers, a government promising inquiries, but little hope of accountability.
Here is the game. Labour's shadow international development secretary, a key figure in the party's soft left, has already seized on this, calling for an urgent statement in the Commons. Tory backbenchers on the ethical trading wing are mobilising. The PM's office is nervous. A defeat in the Commons on a supply chain safety motion would be a headache. More importantly, it would damage the 'Global Britain' brand ahead of the investment summit next month.
This is where the real power moves are happening. The HSE's enforcement director, a veteran of the Grenfell disaster, is privately briefing that the UK cannot be seen to be complicit in 'race-to-the-bottom' safety standards. He has allies in the Foreign Office, who see this as a lever to push India on trade liberalisation. The usual suspects – human rights lawyers, activist shareholders – are circling.
Expect a swift announcement: a new 'Supply Chain Risk Unit' inside the Department for Business, a pilot scheme for mandatory audits in high-risk sectors. The Indian government will resist, calling it neo-colonial. But the British government has leverage. The trade deal is stalled. The PM needs a win. Offering to 'lead by example' on safety might just be the fig leaf everyone can accept.
Meanwhile, the 15 families are still waiting. The factory owner? Two days later, no arrest. The fire exit? Still locked in the official report, blamed on 'operational convenience'. The Westminster game goes on. But this time, the scrutiny is different. The bodies are a stain that cannot be wiped away. The leak is out. The pressure is building. This is a story that will run and run.
