“Zilla Panchayats are meant to be the backbone of grassroots governance. They exist to address everyday concerns of rural Goa, roads, water supply, sanitation, livelihoods, health and education. Instead, they have become arenas for political manoeuvring, where numbers matter more than needs and power matters more than people.
The obsession with cross-voting reflects a deeper rot. It shows how little faith political parties have in their own representatives and alliances. It also exposes how fragile so-called understandings between opposition parties really are.”The recent Zilla Panchayat elections in South Goa have once again exposed the hollowness at the heart of Goa’s political discourse. What should have been a straightforward democratic exercise has turned into a noisy blame game, with parties accusing each other of cross-voting, betrayal and backroom deals. But the real issue is not who voted for whom. The real issue is that the people of Goa are being taken for a ride.
AAP and Congress leaders are busy pointing fingers at each other over the mysterious “extra vote” that helped the BJP secure key ZP posts. One side claims treachery, the other cries foul, while the ruling party quietly walks away with the spoils. This spectacle might make for dramatic headlines, but it does little to address the growing disconnect between elected representatives and the electorate they claim to serve.
Zilla Panchayats are meant to be the backbone of grassroots governance. They exist to address everyday concerns of rural Goa, roads, water supply, sanitation, livelihoods, health and education. Instead, they have become arenas for political manoeuvring, where numbers matter more than needs and power matters more than people.
The obsession with cross-voting reflects a deeper rot. It shows how little faith political parties have in their own representatives and alliances. It also exposes how fragile so-called understandings between opposition parties really are. If one vote can unravel an entire political narrative, then perhaps that narrative was never grounded in shared values or public interest to begin with.
What is particularly troubling is how casually voters are written out of the story. Millions of words will be spent analysing which party gained and which party lost, but very few will be devoted to what Goans stand to gain from these power shifts. For the average citizen, these political theatrics confirm a long-held suspicion that elections are less about representation and more about control.
The Congress blaming AAP, and AAP pushing back, is also symptomatic of a larger failure of opposition politics in Goa. Instead of introspection, there is deflection. Instead of rebuilding trust with voters, there is an urge to find convenient scapegoats. Fragmentation is real, but blaming smaller parties or individual members avoids the harder questions about leadership, credibility and relevance.
The BJP’s continued success at the local level speaks to its organisational discipline and electoral machinery. But it also raises concerns about the shrinking space for dissent and alternative voices in local governance. A democracy where one party dominates every layer of power risks becoming complacent, insulated and unaccountable.
For rural Goans, none of this political chest-thumping translates into better governance. Roads remain broken, water shortages persist, planning is poor and accountability is rare. Panchayats are often reduced to rubber stamps rather than empowered institutions. When leaders focus on political survival rather than public service, governance inevitably suffers.
What makes this episode particularly disappointing is the sense that lessons are never learned. Goa has seen defections, split mandates and opportunistic alliances before. Each time, voters are promised stability and integrity. Each time, the same old games return, dressed up in new rhetoric.
The people of Goa are not naïve. They understand politics involves negotiation and compromise. What they are tired of is being treated as passive spectators while elected representatives fight over positions and prestige. Democracy does not end at the ballot box. It demands accountability, transparency and a genuine commitment to public welfare.
The ZP elections should have been an opportunity to talk about rural development and decentralised governance. Instead, they have reinforced the perception that power matters more than purpose. Until political parties stop treating institutions as trophies and voters as numbers, this cycle will continue.
The question Goans should be asking is not who cross-voted, but who truly stands for the people. Until that question is answered honestly, democracy in Goa will remain fragile, noisy and deeply disconnected from those it is meant to serve.
