‘AMKA NAKA’: IIT, COAL HUB, AND DEVELOPMENT

 

From Canacona to Sattari, the chorus is loud and clear: ‘Amka Naka.’ Goans once again in large numbers are saying no to ‘mega projects,’ be it an IIT (that was shifted from Canancona to Sanguem) in Sattari, or the expansion of the coal hub in Mormugao with the supplementary project of double-tracking the South-Western railway line. Underlying these vociferous protests is a rejection of an economic model, called ‘development,’ that destroys the livelihoods and landscape of Goans, and a political establishment that promotes such crony capitalist ventures. This development makes Goans and Goa disposable in the interest of (inter)national businesses.

 

Of course, this is not the first time that Goans have said no to such development. From the 1970s, the Goan economy began to change from one based on mining to one that diversified into tourism. Mining did not stop, of course, to the extent that mining and tourism became the joint ‘backbone’ of the Goan economy. The then MGP government, though not necessarily open to external capital, and which focused much of its energies on domestic agrarian reforms, nonetheless promoted tourism to boost the Goan economy. In both industries, particularly in the new tourism industry, conflicts over land control and ownership were rampant.

 

But, from the 1980s, the tourism industry was the chief site where these conflicts over land control and ownership were played out. It was an old conflict, no doubt, between the bhatcars and mundcars, but the difference now was that Goa was open to national and global capital. The fanfare around the Commonwealth Heads of Government Meeting (CHOGM) in New Delhi in 1983, with a retreat organized in Goa, is a watershed moment that ushered widespread urbanization and tourism-related conflicts in Goan coastal villages.

 

The takeover of land by the tourism industry was resisted right from the start. Back in 1983, it was widely reported that Goans were resisting. Josephine Lobo and Preciosa Menezes, then in their seventies, fought against the expansion plans of a starred resort in Candolim. While the fight predated the CHOGM event, the starred hotel in question seemed to use the opportunity provided by CHOGM, with the massive government investment and interest to ‘get things done’, to finally acquire some coconut orchards owned by the two septuagenarians mentioned above.

 

Things only got worse in the 1990s. The promotion of tourism required more starred hotels and more land, especially from the mundcars, who had become owners of small holdings thanks to the Bandodkarite land reforms of 1964. One could think of the well-known case of a Japanese retirement village that was opposed successfully, which also brought tourism’s links to land use to the fore. Simultaneously with the conflicts over land, there were deep-seated cultural changes that the coastal towns experienced. Studies and surveys that document these changes highlight how the school dropout rates increased by leaps and bounds in the 1990s.

 

In the 2000s, while tourism continued to grow unsustainably, the demand for iron ore increased due to the Beijing Olympics. The result was one of the wholesale destruction of the forested regions of Goa. The mining companies promoted local Goans to invest in trucks to transport the ore. The illegalities in the sector and the destructive extraction of the ore led to an investigation under Justice Shah. Mining thus came to a sudden halt due to the order of the Supreme Court. Those Goans who had invested in trucks were the ones who were severely affected, not to mention as well the agrarian communities in the mining belt whose fields were affected due to the waste from nearby mines.

 

But despite such obvious experience of how destructive the economy of Goa was, successive governments—be it Congress or BJP—pushed for a more significant share of tourism, and showed no interest or initiative to recover the dues of the illegally-extracted iron ores from the defaulting companies. At the very least, the political establishment could have tried to redeem themselves by formulating better economic policies in the wake of massive scandals and illegalities in these ‘backbone’ sectors. In other words, they could have thought about a better alternative and worked towards its realization through policymaking. Instead, we were given more mega projects in the form of IITs and coal hubs!

 

I have focused only on the major economic trends and the protests against them. There were other equally essential protests such as the Ramponnkar’s agitation against mechanized fishing, the bitter opposition to the Konkan Railway single track, or the movement against turning Goa into a Special Economic Zone (SEZ). Nonetheless, it is clear that since the early 1970s—that is after Goa was made a part of the Indian Union—successive governments have pushed Goa and Goans to the brink of an economic and environmental crisis.

 

Since the 1970s (at least), Goa has been experiencing the fallout of ‘development.’ Such a model, with its emphasis on infrastructure and industry, was touted as a solution to global poverty, especially after WWII. In simpler terms, or the common parlance of election discourse in Goa, ‘development’ means roads, water supply, and other necessary services. But to understand what development truly means, one must look at the destruction of Goa’s man-made and natural infrastructure by the mining and tourism sectors. There is no better way of doing business in the ‘development’ model.

 

With all of us facing the ill-effects of COVID, this destructive economic model patronised by the political establishment is untenable. Hence, when localized protests assert that “Amka naka IIT,” or “Amka naka kollso,” they should also unanimously assert that “Amka naka development.”

 

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 5 November, 2020)

SEDITION, DEVELOPMENT, AND CITIZENSHIP

Can some progressive laws deliver justice when a country’s statutes books have various other discriminatory and problematic laws? The widespread protests against the Citizenship Amendment Act (CAA) (and rioting in response to these protests) highlight the various unresolved issues dogging the Union of India. Because ‘citizenship’ is the broad, catch-all, and all-encompassing legal concept at the heart of the Indian Republic, the various ways in which it remains unrealized for millions needs to be considered. As the legislations around citizenship are the issue these days, it is vital to think of the various other laws that might subvert the realization of citizenship. Two important legislations are those that pertain to seditious speech and land acquisition laws that promote development, often at the expense of socially and economically marginalized communities.

The current law granting citizenship in India is not based on the principle of jus soli: i.e., an individual being born in the territory of the Union of India (as it was when the law was enacted in 1955). Today, one needs at least one parent to be a citizen of India, that is to say, that one’s parent(s) cannot be an illegal immigrant. This change is effectively making the principle of Indian citizenship that of jus sanguinis, or by descent. The Citizenship Act, 1955 as it stands today, is not as open as it used to be, and the recent policy decisions that demand proof, or papers, of one’s citizenship restrict the rights and freedoms of a person living in India.

Apart from the laws and policy decisions that concern citizenship, other laws have also chipped away at the rights and freedoms of the people. It is then not ironic that the various governments that have ruled the Union of India have used the dreaded Section 124A of the Indian Penal Code, more popularly known as sedition, to clamp down on protest and views that are contrary to its own.

With or without the CAA, vaguely defined offenses such as sedition goes against the spirit of inclusive citizenship. As scholars and legal experts highlight, the use of a vague term like “disaffection” is at the root of much persecution against activists and socially and economically marginalized persons. The history of 124A suggests that the law was made by the British in the 1860s to quell the uprising of the Wahhabis. In other words, to crush popular uprisings, the British State added a vague criterion in which those who were ruled were not permitted to harbor feelings of ‘disaffection’ against the government. What might this disaffection look like? Sadly, it is up to the state officials to arbitrarily decide on this matter.

Indian governments have repeatedly made use of this law since 1947. While High Courts and the Supreme Court have gone back-and-forth in determining the legality and constitutional validity of the law, the sad truth is that it is still on the statute books of India. Mostly, this law has been used against those who resist development, especially the wholesale landgrab for mining and industries. Thus, any reflection on bettering the regime of citizenship in India must also think of the havoc caused by developmental policies and politics.

We in Goa are intimately familiar with the development politics and its human and environmental costs. With industries like tourism and mining being the backbone of Goa’s economy, especially after 1961, the land and other natural resources have experienced tremendous stress. Successive Goan governments have intensified the volume of these two industries, for instance, to the extent that the availability of resources like land and water is not sufficient for effective management of these industries.

The legal basis for this intensified and destructive development is laws like the Goa Investment Promotion Act, 2014, and the Goa Requisition and Acquisition of Property Bill, 2017. While the first Act aims to expedite investment by circumventing the checks and balances already in place, the second Act uses vague terminology that empowers the State to evict and rehabilitate people for “public purpose.” Just like Section 124A, the abovementioned Goa Requisition and Acquisition of Property Bill draws most of its provisions from an old British law, The Land Acquisition Act, 1894. Both these Acts aims to provide arbitrary powers to the State so that the rights of the individual, in this case to the land, can easily be subverted.

Land is a crucial resource for upward mobility, as so many activists from the marginalized communities highlight. Denying access to land to many marginalized communities is an age-old practice in the subcontinent. For many such marginalized communities, access to land and protection from being evicted is the primary means through which they realize citizenship. The aim of any movement around citizenship should be to realize full citizenship within the Union of India by tackling all or most of the allied issues through which full citizenship gets subverted. It should also take into account the history of the last 70 odd years where Indian politics has failed to realize full citizenship.

The point of this reflection is fairly simple: a few good laws (or laws that some assume to be good) is of no use when several other laws enable the State, corporations, and powerful individuals to trample upon the weak and the marginalized. These laws should not be on the statute book at all.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 4 March, 2020)

DOES GOA NEED ‘DEVELOPMENT’?

No. In fact, there isn’t any other answer to the question in the title except an emphatic “No!”. And here’s why.

In Goa, ‘development’ does not mean an improvement in the quality of life but rampant destruction of natural resources, corruption in various sectors of the administration, and disparities in wealth and opportunities. Further, most of the infrastructure projects built in the name of development rapidly deteriorate after a few years, either because of poor construction quality or the failure to maintain this infrastructure regularly. In promoting development, the Goan exchequer loses money in the short- and long-term.

In the existing situation, Goans are placed in a lose-lose situation. Such public infrastructure as roads (for instance) is indeed needed but a 4- or a 6-lane highway does not need to be built across the rural landscape, making Goa a transit point to facilitate the movement of goods. Thus, the public demand for simple infrastructure, such as 2-lane roads, is, in the eyes of the government, an open invitation for constructing ever larger highways.

Another reason Goa does not need ‘development’ is that the government is not investing in the maintenance of public infrastructure. In fact, the government is not serious about maintaining or fixing the existing infrastructure. The government bodies build public infrastructure like roads, bridges, parks, and so on, but after a few years, there is hardly any upkeep—leading to many projects turning into white elephants. Thus, the way forward is not more development but the preservation and maintenance of the existing natural and built landscape.

The heavy rains and the subsequent flooding, after a frighteningly dry spell in June, indicates the value of maintaining, in fact nurturing the existing public infrastructure rather than building more roads, highways, and apartment complexes. Despite having inherited a good network of drains, both natural and artificial, Goa’s roads and streets get flooded, leading to substantial losses. Such flooding happens not only because of rampant and haphazard construction but also due to the failure of maintaining the existing drainage system.

The images of Panjim flooding “like Bombay” underscores the failure and negligence of the municipality and the concerned governmental authorities. Panjim is such a glaring example of the government’s failure to maintain existing infrastructure as the city already had a well-designed drainage system before it was torn to bits by piece-meal real-estate development. Panjim’s fate is the result of years of neglect together with the Goan authorities allowing the construction of new buildings haphazardly in recent times.

The monsoon season also exposes the poor quality of work of the many mega projects recently commissioned. A couple of weeks ago, and the most recent example of the administration’s misguided priorities, a retaining wall of a newly-constructed bridge in Mashem, Canacona collapsed, luckily before it was commissioned. The project consists of a 7.7 km four-lane highway, with three bridges in Galgibaga, Talpona, and Mashem at a whopping cost of 190 crores. The collapse of the wall means not only a wastage of a considerable sum of money and precious natural resources for the construction but also highlights poor quality of work. Many infrastructure projects, such as new highways are not necessarily what Goa needs or something that the people of Goa have demanded.

In contrast to mega highways, and as stated earlier, Goa does need its existing roads to be in proper condition, that is, Goan roads should not end up being washed away after brief spells of heavy rains. But what we observe is that most Goan roads get easily riddled with potholes with the first drizzle of the season. Once the roads get damaged, the authorities take forever to fix them. Even if they do, the job is so shoddily done that the condition of the road does not improve, and the next season washes away the previous year’s ‘repairs’.

The recent state-wide protest against the proposed Coastal Zone Management Plan (CZMP) is a step in the right direction. The CZMP proposes, amongst other things, to reduce the Coastal Regulation Zone (CRZ) limit from 500 meters to 50 meters—this means more construction activity in eco-sensitive areas if the proposed changes go through. The logical conclusion of such a plan would be more destruction across the coastal and riverine areas, destruction of sand dunes and other mechanisms of nature which help against flooding.

The residents of Goa’s coastal and riverine areas have rightly rejected a model of development that is only interested in taking over the coastal resources and making them available for the exploitation by corporations. Instead of the government’s plan to intensify construction activity, in other words, development, the people have rejected the move as they do not want the destruction that development and construction activity brings in its wake. With the rejection of the CZMP, as with other such projects, the people have asserted that they want the preservation of the existing natural and built environment and a better quality of life.

Therefore, Goans need to redefine the significance of development radically. As it stands, the vision of both the central and state governments and big businesses is driven by profit for few and the destruction of the Goan landscape. The challenge, then as it is now, is to create an environment-friendly model of public infrastructure beneficial to the public at large.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 7 August, 2019)