“The excuse offered is almost laughable: that one-third of the state would turn into a tiger reserve and humans would be pushed out. In reality, the reserve would sit entirely within already notified sanctuaries. No fresh land is being taken. No new human settlements are being displaced. The “loss” being claimed is a smokescreen for something else – the desire to keep the door open for unregulated development and tourism projects.
That became clear when permissions were handed out for resorts right inside the proposed reserve. Electric fencing, swimming pools, and “eco-tourism” were allowed where serious protection was overdue.”
The Supreme Court’s decision to halt development in the proposed tiger reserve areas of Goa is more than just a legal pause. It is a damning reflection of how the state has dragged its feet for years, ignoring ecological realities, judicial directions, and common sense.
The heart of this conflict is the Mhadei region, a lifeline not just for wildlife but for people across Goa. Its forests are the source of major rivers and a cradle of biodiversity. Sloth bears, pangolins, cobras, and countless species depend on this fragile habitat. And yes, tigers too. Camera traps confirmed their presence in recent years, which should have ended the debate. Instead, the state government chose denial, minimisation, and delay.
The excuse offered is almost laughable: that one-third of the state would turn into a tiger reserve and humans would be pushed out. In reality, the reserve would sit entirely within already notified sanctuaries. No fresh land is being taken. No new human settlements are being displaced. The “loss” being claimed is a smokescreen for something else – the desire to keep the door open for unregulated development and tourism projects.
That became clear when permissions were handed out for resorts right inside the proposed reserve. Electric fencing, swimming pools, and “eco-tourism” were allowed where serious protection was overdue. In a state already struggling with human-animal conflicts, this reckless attitude invites more conflict. It shows how little weight the government gives to conservation unless it is forced by the courts.
What Goa is doing is not caution but sabotage. It is taking a vital ecological corridor in the Western Ghats and treating it as expendable real estate. Once resorts, roads, and infrastructure are pushed in, they never leave. Habitat is fragmented. Wildlife moves elsewhere or perishes. A sanctuary without teeth quickly becomes a hollow label.
The Supreme Court has now intervened, ordering a halt and asking for a review. But why should it come to this? Two years ago, the High Court had already directed the state to notify the tiger reserve. Yet here we are, still stuck at the same point. The pattern is depressingly familiar. When it comes to protecting forests and rivers, governments stall, appeal, or pretend to study the issue endlessly. When it comes to approving projects that bring quick revenue, the wheels of administration move swiftly.
This refusal to act has a cost far beyond tiger numbers. The Mhadei forests regulate water flow to Goa’s rivers. They buffer against floods, recharge groundwater, and store carbon. They are a shield against the very climate disasters that are becoming more frequent. Treating them as dispensable is not just bad policy—it is reckless governance.
The argument that a tiger reserve will harm tourism or development is also hollow. A well-managed reserve attracts visitors who want to see thriving forests, not concrete resorts fenced off from wildlife. Eco-tourism that is built around conservation, not in opposition to it, is both sustainable and profitable. Other states have demonstrated this. Goa, with its natural charm and compact geography, is better placed than most to show that economy and ecology can work together. But first, it has to admit that the tiger is not an inconvenience. It is the symbol of an ecosystem that sustains life in the state.
The bigger danger here is the erosion of accountability. If even clear judicial directives are ignored, then who exactly holds the government responsible? If the state believes it can indefinitely defy orders and public interest, then only continuous court supervision ensures compliance. That is not a healthy way to run policy. It turns governance into governance-by-litigation, and that benefits no one.
Goa has a choice to make. It can continue wasting time with excuses, allowing piecemeal destruction of the Western Ghats, and risk losing a unique corridor of life. Or it can finally accept what scientists, conservationists, and the courts have already spelled out: that protecting the Mhadei and Cotigao belt as a tiger reserve is non-negotiable.
The pause given by the Supreme Court is not a reprieve to exploit. It is a last warning. Goa must stop treating its forests as obstacles to profit and start treating them as the foundation of its future. If it fails, it will not just lose its tigers. It will lose the ecological security of the entire state.
