“The Chief Minister’s remarks come against a backdrop of rising public scrutiny in Goa. Issues like land conversion, environmental clearances, and local governance have drawn strong reactions from citizens and activists. The state’s unique identity — fragile, green, and deeply conscious of its heritage — has made activism not just a right but a necessity. Any attempt to suppress this voice, whether through intimidation or overregulation, would harm Goa’s democratic ethos.
The real challenge lies in drawing a line between activism that serves the public and activism that serves the self. Governments often find criticism uncomfortable, but criticism is not a crime. On the other hand, activists must realise that credibility is built on transparency, consistency, and fairness.”
Goa Chief Minister Pramod Sawant’s recent warning against what he called “extortion in the name of activism” has reignited a long-standing debate — where should the line be drawn between genuine activism and misuse of public causes for personal gain? His remarks, made during an interaction with the media, underline a growing tension between the state and sections of civil society. It is a debate that demands honesty on both sides.
Sawant said the government will take firm legal action against individuals who, under the garb of activism, engage in character assassination, defamation, and extortion. He accused some self-proclaimed activists of blackmailing or maligning others to serve personal or political interests. The Chief Minister’s statement comes at a time when Goa’s public discourse has become increasingly sharp, often driven by social media, and sometimes blurred by personal agendas.
At one level, Sawant’s concern cannot be dismissed. There is little doubt that activism, once the conscience of democracy, has occasionally been hijacked by opportunists. Some individuals and groups have indeed exploited public sentiment to settle personal scores, seek financial benefits, or build political capital. Cases of fabricated allegations, selective outrage, or targeted campaigns have occasionally discredited genuine social work. When activism becomes a tool for intimidation or profit, it loses its moral standing and erodes public trust. The government, therefore, is right to insist on accountability and lawful conduct.
But Sawant’s statement also raises uncomfortable questions about the potential misuse of state power. When a government warns against “self-declared activists,” it risks creating an atmosphere of fear among genuine whistleblowers and watchdogs. India’s democracy has been shaped by activism — from environmental protection and women’s rights to fighting corruption. Many of these movements began with individuals who challenged authority, often without official recognition. To label activism as suspect because a few exploit it would be a mistake that undermines the very spirit of civic participation.
The Chief Minister’s remarks come against a backdrop of rising public scrutiny in Goa. Issues like land conversion, environmental clearances, and local governance have drawn strong reactions from citizens and activists. The state’s unique identity — fragile, green, and deeply conscious of its heritage — has made activism not just a right but a necessity. Any attempt to suppress this voice, whether through intimidation or overregulation, would harm Goa’s democratic ethos.
The real challenge lies in drawing a line between activism that serves the public and activism that serves the self. Governments often find criticism uncomfortable, but criticism is not a crime. On the other hand, activists must realise that credibility is built on transparency, consistency, and fairness. Selective outrage or personal vendetta weakens the legitimacy of genuine causes. Both sides need self-reflection.
The Chief Minister also appealed to the mainstream media to play a responsible role in exposing those who misuse activism for personal gain. That call deserves support, provided the same principle applies to political actors and government agencies. Journalism, like activism, thrives on accountability — and the state must respect its independence. The media’s role is not to echo official statements but to verify claims, challenge power, and ensure that justice is even-handed.
In the end, what Goa needs is neither blind activism nor blind governance. It needs a culture where public accountability is shared, not weaponised. The government must act against extortion, but with due process and fairness. At the same time, activists must act with integrity, focusing on causes rather than cameras, and truth rather than theatrics.
Democracy flourishes when citizens question power, but it also depends on honesty within that questioning. If activism becomes extortion, it is a betrayal of trust. If governance becomes suppression, it is a betrayal of democracy. Goa, with its proud tradition of civic awareness, deserves better than either extreme.
What the state needs now is balance — a government that enforces the law without fear or favour, and a civil society that fights for justice without losing its moral compass. Only then will activism reclaim its rightful place as the conscience of democracy, not its casualty.
