Regardless of the party labels, those elected to power must act as custodians of society
With the departure—by resignations—of the state president and others of the AAP from the party in Goa, political tongues have started wagging. The expected questions are naturally being raised. Why did this happen? What next? How will it change the party here? How will it impact party politics in Goa as a whole?
It is only natural for our thoughts to move in such a direction. When political developments break out suddenly, the human mind almost automatically tilts towards guestimating future trends.
Politics, after all, is power in motion; and power rearranges the ground beneath everyday life. So, our minds are checking out “what if” paths to reduce uncertainty and regain a sense of predictability. In this way, political events trigger not just opinion but imagination. Anticipating consequences, however loosely, is one of the ways humans steady themselves in a world where decisions made elsewhere can quietly reach into their lives.
But that is only one side of the story. When seen through the prism of the long haul, Goa needs to raise further and sharper questions. Beyond politicians changing parties and affiliations, how does the invisible churn going on in politics surface, show up, get understood, and allow us to cope?
The crux of the matter is not really about which politician is in which party. This, of course, matters inasmuch as it makes and unmakes majorities, and creates or damages winning combinations. But the wider worry could be how politics as a whole is reshaping our place and lives; how this change will affect the future; and even how responsive our politicians and their parties can be to the present and future needs of the region.
Since the 1990s, when Goa’s politics saw repeated party-hopping, the citizen turned increasingly sceptical about party labels. In fact, there were defections in Goa in the 1960s itself, during the heyday of MGP-UGP politics, but everyone seems to have forgotten that.
Regardless of the party labels they wear, Goa’s political class, whether ruling or opposing, has the duty to act as custodians of a small society. They are clearly expected to balance development with ecological limits, social justice, and cultural pluralism. As far as the average citizen goes, labels matter far less than results.
There is a need to craft policies that protect livelihoods without turning Goa into merely a commodity. For the Opposition, the duty is not obstruction for its own sake but vigilance: asking hard questions, exposing possible misuse of authority, offering credible alternatives, and staying rooted in people’s everyday anxieties rather than episodic outrage.
Citizens too have their job cut out for them. They can frame their expectations more clearly, working to throw up grounded questions that cut through slogans. For instance: How will those elected to office protect land, water, and beaches from irreversible damage while still ensuring jobs for locals? What concrete steps will they take to curb corruption? How will growth be balanced with Goa’s long-term interests? How can panchayats and municipalities be strengthened so that decisions are not imposed from Panaji or Delhi? What are the plans to make housing, healthcare, and education affordable for the average resident? And, finally, how will Goa’s linguistic, cultural, and social diversity be defended without turning identity into a vote-catching costume?
Accountability in a small state need not be abstract but can instead be personal and visible. After all, short-term political gains, more so in a place like Goa, can quickly become long-term collective losses.