The sanctity of local bodies in the State is increasingly coming under stress. Within the space of two days, two elected representatives — Chinchinim-Deussua Sarpanch Gerson Gomes and Bandora Panch member Ramchandra Naik — were allegedly assaulted within the very premises of their work. On September 7, Sarpanch Gomes was allegedly pushed down a staircase and kicked in the chest during a dispute over the collection of market sopo. Barely a day later, Ramchandra Naik was attacked in Bandora while performing his duties, reportedly after an individual attempted to make an unauthorised recording.
These incidents are not isolated cases. Sarpanchas, Panchas and Panchayat secretaries have been facing the wrath and fury of various sections of people. Last year in August, Morjim Panchayat Secretary Sachin Dhawaskar was violently assaulted inside the Pernem BDO office over an RTI-related matter. More recently, Nuvem Sarpanch Freda D’Sa was gheraoed during a routine site inspection, and police had to intervene.
Taken together, these incidents point to a deeply worrying pattern because they reflect a threat to authority and the functioning of public institutions. When people feel emboldened enough to storm government offices, damage property and physically attack elected representatives and officials, the foundations of grassroots democracy are shaken. Sarpanchas, panch members and panchayat staff deal directly with the public and are expected to enforce civic responsibilities entrusted on them. If performing these basic duties puts them at risk of physical violence, the entire system is left exposed.
What makes the situation even more unfair is that panchayats often become the first targets of public anger over decisions that are not entirely theirs to make. In matters concerning development projects or land-clearance proposals, for instance, panchayats may be required by law to process applications and paperwork. At the same time, higher government bodies such as the Town and Country Planning Department hold the final regulatory authority. But because the panchayat office is the most accessible arm of the administration, its elected representatives become convenient targets for public frustration.
The growing tendency of vigilantism also raises serious questions about deterrence. When the response to an assault is slowed down by procedural technicalities and visible action is not forthcoming, it can send a wrong message. It risks creating the impression that those willing to use threats or violence can escape consequences. Political connections or legal loopholes must never become shields for those who take the law into their own hands.
This is particularly important in light of Chief Minister Pramod Sawant's recent declaration of zero tolerance towards “goondagiri” against policemen. He had directed the police to act firmly against those who indulge in violence and intimidation, and not remain silent in the face of such behaviour. That principle must also be applied with the same seriousness when violence enters institutions of local self-government. There can’t be selective interpretation of zero tolerance. Nor can there be hesitation when elected representatives or public officials are attacked while carrying out their duties.
A clear and uncompromising message must go out: Anyone who resorts to violence against an elected representative or public official on duty will face swift and serious consequences. Failure to draw that line firmly would carry consequences far beyond the individuals who are attacked. It would slowly turn Goa's grassroots democratic institutions into places where intimidation begins to replace authority, and fear takes the place of the rule of law. Panchayats cannot function under the shadow of violence. If grassroots democracy is to retain its meaning, those entrusted with running its institutions must first be allowed to do their jobs without fear.
