The capital city was in the grip of a protest over the brutal attack on activist Rama Kankonkar on Friday, with opposition leaders, tribal groups, civil society leaders, and various sections of people coming together to seek answers and accountability. While the general outrage is justified, it also exposes a massive undercurrent of suspicion that the attack may not be an isolated act of violence but rather a symptom of a deeper, more insidious nexus between political powers, criminal elements, and enforcement.
The protesters are rightly demanding justice and transparency. Their march from Azad Maidan to the Police Headquarters, the BJP headquarters, and the Chief Minister’s residence reflects a sense of anxiety coupled with a fear about the State’s inability to protect its citizens. Although the police have been swift in arresting five within hours, and later made the sixth and seventh arrests on Friday, questions still linger over the gap in investigation since the motive of the attack has not yet been made public, more than 24 hours after the arrest. These gaps give rise to suspicion over transparency and cast a shadow over the narrative.
Questions are yet to be settled over a larger plot involving a political hand, as alleged, or whether this attack was on social activism alone, or whether it erupted out of personal rivalries. Unless the motive comes out in the open, backed by adequate substance, the police will continue to be eyed with suspicion, and theories of “tacit agreements” and “political backing” will gain credence.
It happened in the case of the infamous Mungul attack. Over a month has passed since that assault, but the police have not publicly disclosed the motive behind the attack. The initial assertion that it was merely gang rivalry that triggered the attack appears weak. In cases involving gangs and history-sheeters, the police’s reluctance to reveal concrete leads fuels suspicions that there may be political patrons or influential figures shielding the real masterminds behind the violence.
Allegations that the Kankonkar attack is an act of political vengeance towards activism or “goondaism” with political protection are not unfounded, considering the history of powerful vested interests and the beneath-the-surface nexus between criminals and politicians. It may be noted that political leaders have not hesitated in hosting masterminds and history-sheeters at their private parties and events.
Opacity in investigation or limited discourses is creating unnecessary tension. There is no doubt that police have done what they could in swiftly arresting the culprits in several such cases, but those with grave offences against their names have walked out on bail within hours, which is another reason why public trust in law enforcement is lost.
The recent crackdown on history-sheeters and anti-social elements appears superficial when viewed against the backdrop of this attack. If listed offenders could carry out such a brazen assault despite police watchlists, it indicates a failure of enforcement or a possible connivance. This undermines the very credibility of police efforts and signals that the fight against organised crime remains half-hearted or politically constrained. Such gaps in intelligence and enforcement expose a system that is either overwhelmed or complicit.
Justice for Rama Kankonkar demands more than arrests; it requires transparency, accountability, and a genuine effort to root out political patronage and criminal complicity. Fearless activism should never be met with violence and impunity; that’s a sign of cowardice and failure. The ongoing protests serve as a stark reminder that Goans are in a state of shock and fear, as life has become increasingly unpredictable.
