Justice in India often arrives too late to mean much, and the case of Goa Minister Mauvin Godinho in the so-called 1998 power rebate scam is a textbook example. After twenty-seven years, a local court has acquitted Godinho, who was accused of issuing power rebate notifications without Cabinet approval, allegedly causing the state a loss of ₹4.5 crore. The verdict has been welcomed by him as vindication, but the real story is not simply about whether he was guilty or innocent. It is about how politics, justice, and accountability in Goa have become intertwined in ways that corrode public faith.
The case itself was initiated by none other than the late Manohar Parrikar, then in opposition. Parrikar pursued the matter aggressively, accusing Godinho of acting arbitrarily and misusing his authority. At that time, the BJP positioned itself as the party of clean governance, taking on what it described as the entrenched corruption of Congress leaders. Godinho bore the brunt of this battle, facing arrest, lengthy investigations, and over two decades in the shadow of criminal allegations. His reputation was battered, his name constantly tied to the case whenever politics in Goa was discussed.
But fast forward to 2016, and the political picture changed dramatically. Godinho quit Congress and joined the BJP on the eve of the 2017 assembly elections. The very party that once hounded him as corrupt welcomed him with open arms, rewarded him with a ticket, and subsequently made him a minister. The irony could not be lost on Goans: the same Manohar Parrikar who had launched the case against him was now the Chief Minister presiding over his induction into the cabinet. What had changed? The case was still pending in court. The allegations had not been withdrawn. The evidence was yet to be weighed. Only the political equation had shifted, and with it the definition of who was tainted and who was useful.
This contradiction speaks to a deeper malaise in our democracy, where criminal cases become convenient tools of political warfare. When a leader is in the rival camp, he is branded corrupt, dragged to court, and held up as an example of what is wrong with governance. When the same leader crosses over, he is rehabilitated, his sins forgotten, and his presence justified as “realpolitik.” This is not unique to Goa; it is a national pattern. But in Godinho’s case, the timeline of 27 years magnifies the hypocrisy. The man spent decades fighting allegations pressed by Parrikar, only to find shelter under the same man’s leadership, and now emerges legally exonerated while holding ministerial office.
The judgment acquitting him may have come from the court, but in the court of public perception the questions are far from settled. Why did Parrikar pursue the case so relentlessly in the 1990s if there was no substance? If there was political motivation, was it right to weaponize the legal system for partisan ends? And once Godinho entered the BJP, why did the party not insist that he clear his name before handing him a cabinet portfolio? A party that rose to power promising transparency and zero tolerance for corruption was content to have an accused minister, waiting for the slow wheels of justice to eventually grind to a halt.
For Godinho himself, the acquittal ends a long ordeal. He has every right to claim relief, to say that honour lost can never be fully restored. But the broader lesson is troubling. When cases take decades, when the accused rises in political stature during the trial, when the complainant himself reverses his stance for expediency, the line between justice and politics blurs beyond recognition.
Goa deserves better. It deserves a justice system that acts swiftly, not in geological time. It deserves politicians who step aside when serious charges hang over them, rather than waiting for favourable verdicts while clinging to power. It deserves political parties that apply the same moral yardstick to friends and foes alike. The Godinho saga is not just about one man’s acquittal; it is about a system that allows the accused to become accuser, the hunted to become minister, and the pursuit of accountability to become another casualty of convenience. Until that changes, legal exoneration will not translate into restored public trust.
