“The real problem lies not only with the businesses but with the ecosystem that protects them. North Goa today is deeply influenced by a powerful Delhi circuit. Politicians on vacation, senior IAS and IPS officers on “breaks,” retired bureaucrats turned investors, and their networks of fixers and facilitators have transformed governance into an informal negotiation. When the violator is connected to Delhi, enforcement in Goa suddenly slows down. Local officials understand this reality all too well. A strict inspection can invite a phone call from above. A sealed premises can lead to a transfer. A police complaint can quietly disappear. Over time, the message becomes institutional. Do not touch anything linked to power. This is how the rule of law is hollowed out, not dramatically, but steadily and deliberately.”
The fire at Birch should finally end the myth that what is happening along Goa’s coast is harmless indulgence or glamorous excess. It is neither. It is a systematic dismantling of rules, enabled by power, celebrity, and political influence, much of it imported from Delhi. Birch is not an aberration. It is the inevitable outcome of a culture where law enforcement bends before privilege and accountability dissolves in the presence of famous names and powerful connections.
For years, North Goa has witnessed a steady takeover by high-profile restaurants, clubs, and beachside establishments that operate in a grey zone at best and in outright violation at worst. Coastal Regulation Zone norms are treated as suggestions. Fire safety approvals become rubber stamps. Temporary permissions quietly turn permanent. Complaints raised by locals are dismissed as obstruction or jealousy. The law, meanwhile, retreats.
Birch is only one example. Bastian Riviera, promoted by actor Shilpa Shetty, and establishments like Goya have repeatedly raised red flags over permissions, land use, and compliance. These are not marginal players unaware of the law. These are well-funded, professionally advised ventures that know exactly how far they can push the system and who to call when trouble arises.
The real problem lies not only with the businesses but with the ecosystem that protects them. North Goa today is deeply influenced by a powerful Delhi circuit. Politicians on vacation, senior IAS and IPS officers on “breaks,” retired bureaucrats turned investors, and their networks of fixers and facilitators have transformed governance into an informal negotiation. When the violator is connected to Delhi, enforcement in Goa suddenly slows down.
Local officials understand this reality all too well. A strict inspection can invite a phone call from above. A sealed premises can lead to a transfer. A police complaint can quietly disappear. Over time, the message becomes institutional. Do not touch anything linked to power. This is how the rule of law is hollowed out, not dramatically, but steadily and deliberately.
The consequences are serious. Goa’s coastline is ecologically sensitive and already under stress. Illegal or poorly regulated structures overload sewage systems, block natural water flows, and create severe safety hazards. Fires like the one at Birch are not random accidents. They are symptoms of negligence, overcrowding, and compromised safety standards.
Local communities pay the price. Fisherfolk lose access to traditional spaces. Villages face water shortages while luxury establishments operate without restraint. Noise, traffic and environmental damage are normalised in the name of “high-end tourism.” Meanwhile, small local businesses are penalised or shut down for far lesser violations, reinforcing a two-tier system of justice.
What makes this especially corrosive is the loss of public faith. When citizens see that rules apply strictly to the powerless and flexibly to the influential, governance loses legitimacy. The law becomes a performance rather than a principle. Goa begins to resemble a colony within its own borders, catering to outsiders who enjoy the land without respecting it.
The Birch fire must mark a turning point. Not another committee. Not another temporary closure. There must be accountability that travels upward, not just downward. Who cleared these establishments. Who ignored warnings. Who intervened to stall action. These questions cannot be brushed aside with vague assurances.
Celebrity ownership should invite tougher scrutiny, not softer handling. The presence of Delhi politicians or senior officers should never be a protective shield. If IAS and IPS officers misuse their influence, they must face consequences, not quiet reassignment. Goa’s institutions must answer to Goa’s people, not to visiting power brokers.
Goa’s strength has always been its balance between openness and restraint, tourism and tradition, growth and nature. Allowing its coast to be converted into a lawless playground for the privileged will destroy that balance beyond repair. The Birch fire is a warning written in smoke and ash.
If Goa ignores it, the next disaster will not just expose broken rules. It will expose a state that chose influence over integrity, and silence over safety.
