In Panaji, protestors gathered outside the police station, demanding Lohia’s release. Police used belts to beat the crowd, injuring several people. On June 20, Lohia was released
This year marks the 80th anniversary or seventy-nine years since June 18, 1946—a moment that catalysed Goa’s long path to liberation. It was the starting point of the decolonisation process in
Asia and Africa. Here I have chronicled the historic events chronologically.
In 1929, a young economist named Ram Manohar Lohia enrolled at the Friedrich-Wilhelm-Universitat in Berlin. A year later, he met a fellow Indian student, Juliao Menezes of Assolna, Goa, who was pursuing studies in dermatology. Their friendship, forged in Europe, would later help change the course of Goa’s political destiny. After earning his doctorate, Lohia returned to India in 1933 and plunged into the anti-British struggle, arrested by British authorities on May 19, 1944 in Bombay, imprisoned and tortured in Lahore and released on April 11, 1946 in a frail state. He found refuge at the home of his friend Dr Juliao Menezes in Bombay, who also medically attended to him.
It was during this period that Dr Menezes began pressing him to visit Goa—still under Portuguese rule—to rest and witness firsthand the repressive colonial regime. On June 9, 1946, Lohia finally agreed. By the evening of June 10, he had reached Assolna and was warmly welcomed at Menezes Mansion. Roquozinho Almeida, a local from Assolna, quickly relayed word of his arrival to Vasant Vaikunth Kare in Margao. With that message, the tide of Goan history quietly began to turn. Lohia wasted no time. On June 11, he began meeting residents who had suffered under the Estado Novo regime. Despite his poor health, he held continuous discussions
with teachers, lawyers, students, and poets who shared a nationalist outlook.
By June 12, plans for a non-violent act of defiance were set. A secret meeting was held at Damodar Vidya Bhuvan in Margao where eight Goan volunteers took a solemn oath to join Lohia in civil disobedience. They decided that on June 18, they would hold a public meeting—an act explicitly banned under Portuguese law. On June 13, Lohia and Dr Menezes travelled to Panaji where they met Advocate José Inácio de Loyola and journalist Evagrio Jorge. On June 15, to evade arrest, Lohia and Menezes relocated briefly to a hotel in Mormugao. That evening, they met a group of students from Vidyarthi Sangh who invited them to Panaji. On June 16, over a thousand people gathered outside the residence of Jaganlal Shah in Panaji. There, Lohia gave an impromptu speech stressing the urgency of resisting colonial repression. Others who spoke included Dr Menezes and Vinaica Coissoro. On June 17, final preparations were underway.
The people of Margao and surrounding areas were asked to assemble at 4 pm the next day near Capela de Batalha. Then came June 18, 1946—now commemorated as Goa Revolution Day. Despite heavy monsoon rains, crowds began pouring into Margao well before noon. At exactly 4 pm, Lohia, accompanied by Dr Menezes and others, arrived at the square. Captain Jose F de Miranda, the Portuguese Administrator of Salcete, confronted them, brandishing a revolver and ordering the dispersal of the crowd.
Unshaken, Lohia stepped forward and told the captain, “Point it at me.” He then addressed the people: “People of Gomantak, think freely, speak freely, write freely and act to build up organised strength.” The crowd responded with chants of “Jai Hind!” as police arrested him and Dr Menezes. On June 19, in a remarkable act of solidarity, businesses and shops across Goa remained closed. A hartal spread to many villages.
Demonstrations took place in Panaji, Margao, Ponda, and Mapusa. In Panaji, protestors gathered outside the police station, demanding Lohia’s release. Police used belts to beat the crowd, injuring several. On June 20, the colonial administration released Lohia at the Collem border. That same day, a large public meeting was held in Margao. The gathering renamed Praca Square as “Lohia Maidan.” Bakibab Borkar composed and sang verses on the spot, saluting Lohia’s courage. The momentum carried forward. On 21 June, a torchlight procession and public meeting were held. The air rang with the notes of “Vande Mataram.” On June 22, meetings erupted in Ponda, Vasco, and other centres. In Vasco, demonstrators were attacked by black troops but still marched forward. On June 23, the tricolour was hoisted in Margao’s communidade building, and meetings were held in Chinchinim to explain the movement. Even pro-Portuguese loyalists now met privately to reassess their stance.
As June neared its end, Lohia’s brief ten-day visit had lit a fire that would never be extinguished. Lohia’s story in Goa ended after ten electrifying days, but their impact endured. He passed away on October 12, 1967 at the age of 57. Dr Juliao Menezes, the friend whose invitation had triggered history, died in 1980 at the age of 71. The legacy of those ten days led by Ram Manohar Lohia, born of a friendship, sealed by courage, and echoed in every chant of “Jai Hind,” continues to demand remembrance—not only in official ceremonies, but in the civic conscience of every Goan.
(Dr Nandkumar M Kamat, who has a doctorate in microbiology, is a scientist and science writer)
