“At the heart of the debate lies a familiar pattern. Political leaders trade allegations, make counterclaims, and draw red lines, but stop short of offering Goans what they want most: a clear, written, unambiguous assurance on the future of civil operations at Dabolim.
Sardesai’s claims, including references to internal file notings and post-operation military plans, have added a sense of urgency and unease. Whether these allegations are fully accurate or politically amplified is beside the point. What matters is that they resonate with a long-standing fear among South Goa residents that Dabolim, once Goa’s only gateway, is being slowly sacrificed.”
The controversy over Dabolim Airport has returned, louder and sharper, exposing once again how Goa’s critical infrastructure is trapped between political posturing, strategic interests, and public anxiety. What should have been a settled question by now has instead become a recurring political storm: is Dabolim here to stay, or is it being quietly edged out in favour of Mopa?
The latest trigger is the Goa Forward Party’s threat of a statewide agitation if Chief Minister Pramod Sawant and Transport Minister Mauvin Godinho fail to clarify their stand on Dabolim’s future. GFP chief Vijai Sardesai has escalated the issue by alleging that the push to shut down Dabolim is not coming from private airport operator GMR, but from the Union Defence Ministry itself. He has accused Godinho of failing to protect the airport and demanded his resignation.
At the heart of the debate lies a familiar pattern. Political leaders trade allegations, make counterclaims, and draw red lines, but stop short of offering Goans what they want most: a clear, written, unambiguous assurance on the future of civil operations at Dabolim.
Sardesai’s claims, including references to internal file notings and post-operation military plans, have added a sense of urgency and unease. Whether these allegations are fully accurate or politically amplified is beside the point. What matters is that they resonate with a long-standing fear among South Goa residents that Dabolim, once Goa’s only gateway, is being slowly sacrificed.
Leader of Opposition Yuri Alemao has echoed these concerns, pointing out the absence of a categorical assurance from the Defence Minister. His warning that “something is fishy” reflects a broader sentiment: that behind the official language of coordination and dual-airport models, decisions may already be drifting in a direction the public has not been told about.
On the other side, Mauvin Godinho and MLA Jit Arolkar insist that both Dabolim and Mopa will function together, complementing each other. The dual-airport narrative is appealing on paper. Goa’s tourism economy needs connectivity. Charter traffic, domestic flights, international arrivals, and regional routes cannot all be funnelled through one airport without consequences.
But this argument loses credibility when it is not backed by formal guarantees. Verbal assurances, press statements, and political rebuttals do little to reassure airlines, tourism stakeholders, or ordinary Goans who depend on Dabolim for accessibility and livelihoods.
Dabolim is not just an airport. It is symbolic. It represents South Goa’s economic link to the rest of the country, a lifeline for local businesses, taxi operators, airport workers, and residents. Its status as a civil enclave under Navy control has always required delicate coordination. That reality demands transparency, not ambiguity.
The operationalisation of Mopa has intensified these anxieties. While Mopa promises growth and modern infrastructure, its emergence should not automatically mean decline elsewhere. Goa’s geography, tourism patterns, and seasonal traffic justify more than one functioning airport. The idea that development must come at the cost of displacement is neither inevitable nor acceptable.
What is striking is how political responsibility keeps shifting. State ministers point to the Centre. Opposition leaders accuse the state of complicity. The Centre remains largely silent. In this vacuum, speculation thrives.
If Dabolim is secure, the government should say so plainly, with a written assurance from the Defence Ministry confirming the continuation of civil operations. If changes are being considered, Goans deserve honesty, not reassurances wrapped in political language.
The question is no longer about who is shouting louder. It is about governance. Infrastructure planning cannot be hostage to election cycles or factional battles. Nor should strategic considerations be used as a convenient excuse to avoid public accountability.
Goa has heard this story before. Each time, tempers flare, protests loom, and then the issue fades without resolution. Until the government breaks this cycle with clarity and commitment, the suspicion will remain that Dabolim’s future is being negotiated quietly, away from public scrutiny.
The altar of politics has claimed many institutions. Goa cannot afford to let its airport be one more.
