The bodily lifting of St. Andre MLA Viresh Borkar from a government office while he was demanding the repeal of amendments introduced by Town and Country Planning Minister Vishwajit Rane is not merely an isolated episode. It is a chilling image — one that speaks volumes about the state of democratic functioning in Goa today.
An elected representative, raising concerns on behalf of his constituents about zoning changes that could permanently alter the character of their villages, was not debated with, reasoned with, or politically countered. He was physically removed.
That image — of a sitting MLA being bodily lifted — is not just about one man. It is about the shrinking space for dissent.
A troubling Déjà Vu
For many Goans, this moment triggers an uncomfortable memory from 2004, when the late Manohar Parrikar, then Chief Minister, faced a no-confidence motion. In a move that remains controversial, police personnel were deployed as marshals inside the Assembly, and Velim MLA Filipe Neri Rodrigues was physically lifted out of the House.
The “Temple of Democracy” witnessed force where persuasion should have prevailed.
Two decades later, the visuals feel eerily similar. And again by the BJP government
Power First, Accountability Later?
Under the non-Goan Chief Minister of Goa Pramod Sawant, the perception that power must be preserved at all costs has only deepened. Whether it is controversial land-use decisions, large-scale development projects, or abrupt policy shifts, critics argue that consultation has been replaced by unilateralism.
The resistance in Chimbel over the proposed “Unity Mall” showed that public pushback can halt even government-backed initiatives. Villagers forced a rethink. It was a reminder that democratic authority ultimately flows upward from the people — not downward from ministerial offices.
The TCP amendments: Development or Discretion?
At the heart of the current storm are Sections 17(2) and 39A of the Town and Country Planning framework.
Section 39A empowers the Chief Town Planner to alter regional and development plans, including zoning changes. Section 17(2) allows land conversion under specified authority.
Critics argue that these provisions, when exercised without robust safeguards, public consultation, or transparency, risk turning long-term regional planning into short-term administrative discretion.
When elected representatives like Viresh Borkar question sweeping zoning changes — especially those perceived to threaten village identity, ecology, and land-use balance — the appropriate response in a democracy is debate, data, and justification.
Not force.
A Pattern of Retreat Under Pressure?
Minister Vishwajit Rane has previously faced strong public resistance — notably during the 2019 IIT proposal at Shel-Melauli, where large tracts of land acquisition triggered protests. The plan was eventually shelved after sustained public opposition.
Similarly, the draft zoning plan in Pernem faced backlash over concerns that substantial green cover would give way to concrete expansion. Once again, public resistance forced reconsideration.
Each time, public mobilisation altered the course of policy, Rane had to hide. Coward that he is.
This raises an uncomfortable question: Are controversial decisions being advanced without adequate groundwork, only to be withdrawn when resistance becomes politically inconvenient?
The Health Portfolio Incident
In June 2025, another controversy erupted when Rane, who also holds the Health portfolio, publicly demanded action against Dr. Rudresh Kuttikar, Chief Medical Officer of a casualty block. Video clips circulated widely, showing sharp and abusive language.
For many observers, the issue was not merely administrative discipline — it was tone, process, and optics. Public governance cannot resemble a spectacle. Institutions demand procedure, not performance.
The Viresh Borkar fiasco: A turning point?
The manhandling of Viresh Borkar may prove to be a political miscalculation.
He was not staging a personal protest. He stood with constituents demanding that zoning changes in Siridao be scrapped due to concerns about preserving village character and preventing over-development.
The physical removal of an elected representative has inadvertently unified opposition voices and mobilised public opinion across constituencies. What might have been a policy disagreement has now become a symbol of democratic friction.
When a government appears intolerant of dissent — especially from within legislative ranks — it risks strengthening the very resistance it seeks to suppress.
Democracy Is Not a Show of Strength
The true test of leadership is not how firmly one can hold office, but how responsibly one exercises power.
Development cannot be sustained if it is perceived as opaque. Planning cannot endure if it sidelines participation. Authority cannot command respect if it relies on physical force against elected representatives.
The image of Viresh Borkar being bodily lifted will linger — not because of partisan politics, but because it captures something deeper: the uneasy tension between governance and accountability in Goa today.
If the government believes its planning decisions are sound, let them withstand scrutiny in open forums. Let them be debated transparently. Let data speak louder than force.
Democracy does not collapse in a single dramatic moment. It erodes gradually — whenever dissent is removed instead of addressed.
And Goa deserves better than that.
