Tuesday, 2 June 2026

Rahul Gandhi's democracy sermon collapses in Goa – By Nisser Dias

Few politicians in India speak more passionately about democracy than Rahul Gandhi. Whether addressing audiences in India or abroad, the Leader of the Opposition consistently warns about threats to democratic institutions, concentration of power, and the erosion of transparency under the BJP-led government.

But before preaching democracy to the nation and the world, Rahul Gandhi would do well to look within his own party.

The manner in which Amit Patkar was replaced as the Goa Pradesh Congress Committee (GPCC) president raises uncomfortable questions about the Congress party's commitment to the very democratic values it claims to champion. If the party cannot uphold transparency and consultation in its internal affairs, how convincing are its lectures on democracy to the rest of the country?

The controversy surrounding Patkar's removal and the appointment of Girish Chodankar exposes a troubling contradiction. While Chodankar has maintained that discussions on the leadership change were taking place openly, Patkar himself has publicly stated that he was neither informed nor consulted. Even South Goa MP Capt. Viriato Fernandes has expressed surprise over the development, claiming he was kept completely out of the loop.

If key stakeholders within the party were unaware of such a significant decision, who exactly was consulted?

The episode creates the impression that decisions are still being taken by a select circle rather than through a transparent and participative process. The involvement of the party high command, the Goa desk leadership, and a handful of influential leaders has fuelled the perception that a small coterie continues to wield disproportionate influence over Congress affairs in Goa.

That perception is politically damaging.

Nobody disputes that party positions are temporary. Leadership changes are a normal part of political life. Every office bearer eventually steps aside, and parties must constantly adapt to changing political realities. The issue is not that Amit Patkar was replaced. The issue is how he was replaced.

The timing makes the episode even more intriguing. With Assembly elections approaching, Patkar was widely expected to focus on his electoral prospects in Curchorem. If the party believed that organisational responsibilities were affecting his ability to prepare for the electoral battle, there was a straightforward and democratic way to handle the transition.

The leadership could have consulted Patkar. It could have discussed succession plans with party workers. It could have sought consensus on who should lead the organisation into the elections. If multiple names emerged, the high command could then have exercised its authority and made a final decision.

Instead, the leadership change appears to have been executed in a manner that has left many party workers questioning both the process and the motives behind it.

The statements made after the fact have only deepened the controversy. Aldona MLA Carlos Alvares' observation that Patkar "could have done better" raises more questions than it answers. If there were genuine concerns about Patkar's performance, why were they not raised openly earlier? Why was there no visible effort to guide, advise, or strengthen the party organisation while he was at the helm?

Were party leaders dissatisfied but silent? Or were plans already being drawn up behind closed doors?

Neither possibility reflects well on a party that prides itself on democratic values.

The larger issue extends beyond Goa. Rahul Gandhi has built much of his political narrative around defending democracy. That message resonates with many Indians who believe democratic institutions must be protected and strengthened. However, credibility in politics depends not merely on what leaders say but on what they practice.

Democracy cannot be a slogan for public rallies and international forums while internal party decisions are perceived as opaque, centralised, and exclusionary.

The Goa episode may appear to be a state-level organisational matter, but it carries national implications for the Congress party's image. It highlights the growing gap between the party's rhetoric and its actions.

If Congress wishes to present itself as the guardian of democratic values, it must begin by institutionalising those values within its own organisation. Internal democracy, transparency, consultation, and accountability cannot be selectively applied.

Otherwise, every speech delivered by Rahul Gandhi on the importance of democracy will be met with a simple question:

If democracy is not visible within the Congress party itself, why should voters believe it will flourish under a Congress government?

Monday, 1 June 2026

Amit re-built the house. Congress handed the keys back to the man who burnt it down. – By Nisser Dias

Just months before Goa heads into another crucial Assembly election, the Congress party appears to have found a novel strategy for revival: revisit the very chapter many workers believe contributed to its last major setback.

The appointment of Girish Chodankar as president of the Goa Pradesh Congress Committee (GPCC), replacing Amit Patkar, has triggered a wave of resignations and exposed deep cracks within the party's state unit. What should have been a routine organisational reshuffle has instead snowballed into a full-blown rebellion, with workers openly questioning the wisdom of the Congress high command.

Almost immediately after Chodankar's appointment was announced, resignations began pouring in. From office-bearers to social media team members and block-level leaders, several party workers have chosen to walk away rather than work under the former GPCC chief.

Their grievance is straightforward. According to many within the party, Amit Patkar spent over four years rebuilding an organisation that had been left demoralised and fragmented after the 2022 Assembly elections. Patkar inherited a weakened party and, despite political challenges, managed to restore some degree of organisational stability.

Now, many workers fear that progress has been abruptly reversed.

The discontent is so intense that some disgruntled party members have reportedly even urged South Goa MP Captain Viriato Fernandes to resign in protest. While such a demand may appear extreme, it reflects the depth of frustration among grassroots workers who feel ignored by a leadership change they neither expected nor wanted.

Under Patkar's leadership, the Congress managed to secure a significant political victory in South Goa by winning the Lok Sabha seat through Captain Viriato Fernandes, a result that demonstrated the party's ability to challenge the BJP when united and organised.

The party also performed strongly in the Zilla Parishad elections, further indicating that the Congress machinery was slowly recovering from the wounds of 2022.

Those achievements may not have transformed Congress into a dominant force overnight, but they offered something the party desperately needed—hope.

Among those who have stepped down is GPCC General Secretary Manisha Usgaonkar, alongside several other office-bearers and party functionaries. Their resignations have sent a clear message: this is not merely dissatisfaction over a change in leadership, but a loss of confidence in the direction the party is taking.

And that raises an uncomfortable question. Why would the Congress choose to replace a sitting state president with a leader whose previous tenure culminated in one of the party's most disappointing electoral performances in Goa?

Chodankar led the Congress into the 2022 Assembly elections. The result was disastrous. The party's campaign was marred by confusion, delayed candidate announcements and controversial decisions that left many loyal workers feeling sidelined.

Instead of nurturing second-rung Congress leaders and strengthening the party's grassroots base, efforts were allegedly directed toward attracting leaders from rival camps. In constituencies that had long been considered Congress strongholds, dedicated party workers complained of being overlooked while outsiders were courted.

Many within the party still recall how candidate selection remained shrouded in uncertainty even as rival parties had already completed substantial groundwork on the campaign trail. While the BJP and other parties were well into election mode, Congress appeared to be struggling with its own internal calculations.

Following the electoral debacle, Chodankar resigned, accepting responsibility for the defeat. In politics, resignations after defeats are generally seen as acknowledgements of failure. In Congress, however, they increasingly seem to resemble temporary sabbaticals.

Four years later, the man who stepped down after the loss has been brought back to lead the party into another election cycle.

The timing has left many bewildered.

With the 2027 Assembly elections approaching and the party needing unity, momentum and organisational discipline, the Congress high command has instead sparked a controversy that has energised its critics and demoralised sections of its own cadre.

Adding to the intrigue is the manner in which the leadership change was executed. Party insiders describe it as a "midnight coup" carried out with remarkable speed and minimal consultation. The secrecy surrounding the decision has only fuelled speculation and resentment.

Of course, the Congress can replace those who resign. New faces can always be appointed. Vacant positions can always be filled.

What cannot be replaced so easily are the voters these workers influence.

Every block president, office-bearer and grassroots activist represents a network of supporters. When such individuals leave, they rarely depart alone. They take with them relationships, goodwill and votes accumulated over years of political work.

For a party that has repeatedly struggled to convert support into electoral victories, losing even a small segment of its committed cadre is a luxury it can ill afford.

The larger concern is whether the Congress leadership has correctly read the political mood in Goa. At a time when the party needed to project stability and preparedness, it has instead reignited memories of 2022.

One of the most controversial episodes then was the reported effort to offer a Congress ticket to former BJP Chief Minister Laxmikant Parsekar after his defeat within the BJP. For many Congress workers, the move was baffling. Instead of nurturing second-rung leaders and rewarding party loyalists, the leadership appeared more interested in importing political talent from outside.

The discontent deepened in constituencies such as Shiroda, traditionally considered a Congress stronghold, where local workers alleged that staunch BJP functionaries were being encouraged and promised tickets at the expense of long-serving Congress members.

The irony is difficult to miss. As Goa inches closer to another Assembly election, Congress workers were hoping the party would learn from its mistakes.

Instead, many feel the party has simply decided to reappoint them.

And if the current exodus continues, the Congress may soon discover that preparing for elections and preparing for farewells are not always very different exercises.

After all, in politics, history does not always repeat itself.

Sometimes, it gets reappointed.

Friday, 8 May 2026

From Goa to Chennai: A Political Chess Match Between Two Goans – By Nisser Dias

In a period when Goa finds itself increasingly dragged into divisive debates over religion, identity and communal polarization, it is ironic that two Goans from the same political and social background are simultaneously shaping political narratives nearly a thousand kilometres away in Tamil Nadu.

One is Rajendra Arlekar, presently occupying the constitutional office of Governor in Tamil Nadu. The other is Girish Chodankar, a senior Congress leader and All India Congress Committee observer involved in Tamil Nadu politics. Both men represent Goa in different ways, but their approaches to democracy, constitutional morality and political conduct could not be more different.

The recent political developments in Tamil Nadu have almost resembled a long-distance chess match between the two Goans. On one side stood Chodankar, attempting to negotiate political arithmetic and alliances in the post-election scenario. On the other stood Governor Arlekar, wielding the immense powers of the Raj Bhavan in deciding who should be invited to form the government.

Tamil Nadu has historically resisted central interference and has fiercely protected regional autonomy. The state’s political culture has always been rooted in anti-authoritarian Dravidian politics. Yet, the controversy following the elections once again brought to the forefront an old national debate — whether Governors appointed by the Centre act as neutral constitutional heads or political agents of the ruling party in Delhi.

Critics argue that Governor Arlekar’s conduct mirrored a larger pattern seen across India, where Governors in opposition-ruled states are often accused of delaying assent to bills, obstructing elected governments or selectively interpreting constitutional procedures. From Maharashtra to West Bengal, from Kerala to Punjab, Raj Bhavans have increasingly become battlegrounds of political confrontation. Tamil Nadu is merely the latest chapter in this ongoing struggle.

For many observers, Arlekar’s actions appeared less like those of an impartial constitutional authority and more like those of a seasoned ideological functionary carrying the political baggage of the RSS and the BJP. Instead of facilitating a smooth democratic transition, the Governor’s office appeared to become an instrument to delay or complicate the process.

Ironically, Goa itself is witnessing a similar atmosphere of polarization. Hate speeches, inflammatory social media posts, and attempts to pit one community against another have become disturbingly common. Fringe elements thrive on manufactured outrage, while political forces exploit identity divisions for electoral gains. Speakers from outside Goa are routinely invited to spread communal rhetoric, poisoning the state’s traditionally harmonious social fabric.

Against this backdrop, it becomes even more painful for many Goans to watch one of their own, Rajendra Arlekar, accused of undermining democratic norms in another state. Goa has always prided itself on moderation, co-existence and civility. Goans travelling outside the state are often respected for their balanced outlook and cosmopolitan temperament. Yet, when a Goan occupying a constitutional office is perceived as partisan, it inevitably reflects upon the image of the state itself.

On the other hand, Girish Chodankar presents an interesting contrast. Within Goa politics, Chodankar has never been without critics. During his tenure as Goa Pradesh
Congress Committee president, he faced rebellion, factionalism and internal sabotage. Many within his own party questioned his strategies and leadership style. However, even detractors concede that he managed to build relationships and maintain relevance in Tamil Nadu’s complex political environment.

While the Congress has often appeared fragmented and directionless, Tamil Nadu politics demands coalition management, ideological clarity and negotiation skills. Chodankar’s role there demonstrated his ability to operate in a politically mature and highly competitive landscape. Whether one agrees with his politics or not, he at least functioned within the democratic framework of electoral politics rather than through constitutional manipulation.

The contrast between the two Goans therefore, becomes symbolic of two very different political cultures emerging in India today.

One represents electoral politics, negotiation, alliance-building and democratic engagement. The other represents the growing centralization of power through institutions that are constitutionally expected to remain neutral.

This is not merely about Tamil Nadu. It is about the future of Indian federalism itself.

Increasingly, opposition parties across India accuse the BJP-led central government of weaponizing institutions — from the Election Commssion to Enforcement Directorate and the CBI to Governors and even constitutional bodies. Whether these accusations are entirely fair or politically exaggerated is open to debate, but the perception itself is becoming deeply entrenched in public discourse.

The BJP’s critics argue that the party’s so-called “double engine government” model often translates into relentless pressure on opposition-ruled states. Supporters, meanwhile, defend such actions as necessary for administrative accountability and national unity. But somewhere in this political battle, constitutional morality risks becoming collateral damage.

For Goans observing these events, the irony remains striking. Far away from Goa, two sons of the soil have ended up standing on opposite sides of India’s democratic fault lines.

One is trying to influence power through political persuasion.

The other is accused of influencing power through constitutional authority.

And that difference may ultimately define how history remembers them.