MAPUSA
In Goa, the story is beginning to sound familiar. Orders are issued with urgency, violations are flagged with authority – and then, just as quietly, the same orders are withdrawn. What remains is not enforcement, but explanation. Not accountability, but excuses.
Over the past year, a pattern has become impossible to ignore.
Across departments, from coastal regulation to fire safety and public works, serious administrative decisions have been reversed after glaring “procedural lapses.”
Critics now argue these lapses are neither accidental nor rare, but part of a system where rules bend conveniently for the powerful, while ordinary citizens are left to navigate an increasingly hollow governance structure.
The latest flashpoint is the Goa Coastal Zone Management Authority (GCZMA), which recently withdrew its own demolition notice against the Bastian Riviera Beach Club at Morjim, owned by Carrick Bend Realty LLP.
The reason was startlingly basic: the authority had failed to issue a mandatory show-cause notice before ordering demolition. The club’s management challenged the order through a review petition, citing violation of natural justice – an argument the GCZMA ultimately accepted.
For many observers, the episode raised troubling questions.
Issuing a show-cause notice is among the most elementary requirements of administrative law, especially in cases involving demolition of large commercial structures.
“This is not a technical loophole – it is Governance 101. Either the authority is grossly incompetent, or the lapse was allowed to happen,” said a senior advocate, requesting anonymity.
The incident came on the heels of another embarrassing reversal, this time involving the Directorate of Fire and Emergency Services.
Just days after public outrage over the deadly Birch by Romeo Lane fire that killed 25 people, a fire No Objection Certificate (NOC) was issued at lightning speed to Café CO2, a prominent coastal nightclub.
Media scrutiny forced the department to withdraw the NOC.
A senior fire officer later claimed the certificate was granted under the belief that Café CO2 was operating as a restaurant, not a nightclub.
The explanation only intensified criticism. Two days earlier, the same establishment had been sealed by a special inspection team for fire safety violations.
“How do senior officers inspecting coastal establishments not know what kind of business they are certifying?” asked a former fire official. “On Goa’s coast, everyone knows restaurants turn into nightclubs by sunset,” he added.
These incidents are not anomalies.
Nearly a year ago, during a Public Interest Litigation (PIL) concerning unauthorized tree felling for road widening in Siolim, the State government informed the Bombay High Court at Goa that the Public Works Department (PWD) had no role in the project. The court was taken aback.
PWD engineers had been visibly present at the site while trees were felled. The contradiction led to sharp judicial scrutiny and cast serious doubt on affidavits filed by the government.
Activists say these episodes point to a deeper institutional rot.
Founder president of the Calangute Constituency Forum, Premanand Diukar describes it as a collapse of internal discipline.
“Rules exist, but nobody checks whether departments follow them. Ministers look the other way and officers act with impunity,” he said.
Diukar accused the GCZMA of reducing coastal regulation to farce.
“If a massive structure like Birch by Romeo Lane can come up in a water body, it shows the level of corruption in the system,” he remarked.
GOACAN coordinator Roland Martins believes many procedural errors are deliberate.
“Sending notices to wrong addresses or missing timelines is an old trick to protect violators or buy time. Every department does it. Those responsible should be pulled up,” he said.
Senior counsel Carlos Ferreira points to the pressures under which officials operate. “There is intense political and public pressure. Orders are passed that are legally weak and easily challenged. Ultimately, violators benefit,” he noted.
Activist Desmond Alvares argues that accountability will remain elusive unless officials themselves face legal consequences. “Unless cases are filed against authorities, they will continue these practices. They get government lawyers, while citizens pay from their own pockets,” he said.
Despite repeated controversies and public outrage, no officer has been held personally accountable for these lapses. The result is a system where enforcement appears selective, procedure becomes a shield and legality is negotiable.
As Goa confronts the fallout of these failures, one question lingers quietly but insistently: when institutions falter, who is left to hold them to account?
