I have visited Goa, the beach paradise and hot tourist spot on the west coast of India, every summer since I was 10. As a child, I spent my time scouring children’s libraries in Panaji, cycling down university roads, and lazy afternoons with a book, lemonade and sandwiches on the beach. Last year, I went back to Goa after nearly seven years and I could still walk around freely, take a dip at 2am, and have late-night conversations with strangers on the beach. Next time I choose to take a walk along a Goan beach after midnight, however, I will need ‘legitimate and sufficiently good reasons’. I could be stopped and searched by policemen. If I decided to linger on in a beach shack after midnight, talking to friends or strangers, or just staring into space bored, I could be required to answer for what I’m up to and even be arrested.
These new restrictions on freedom and partying were introduced after 19 February, when British 15-year-old Scarlett Keeling was found dead on Anjuna beach in north Goa, allegedly raped and murdered. The case quickly became a frontpage story both here in India and in Britain. At the centre has been Scarlett’s mother, Fiona MacKeown, who has been battling with the Indian authorities ever since her daughter was found, challenging initial claims that the teenager died from drowning. MacKeown believes Scarlett was raped by more than one man and has claimed that links between police, politicians and the drugs mafia have hampered a proper investigation.
In the face of accusations of inefficiency, corruption and incompetence, the Goan police decided they had to Do Something. The result: a draconian ‘crackdown’ that would be seen as unacceptable in any free society. In the name of ‘improving safety’ on Goa’s beaches, police will be ‘strictly enforcing [an] 11 o’clock music curfew and all beach shacks should be closed by midnight. Anyone found loitering after beach shacks have closed will be questioned and if necessary searched.’
As the case, with all its contradictions, twists and turns, continued to unravel, a torrent of issues have been debated in the Indian media, government ministries and parliament. How will the attack on a foreign tourist affect India’s global image? Are tourists safe in India? Has there been a rise in violence against women? How do we root out police corruption and crack down on Goan gun culture?
None of this has aided the police investigation. The heated debates and speculations have made Goa seem more like a debauched gangster nest than a place where Indian tourists, Western package holidaymakers and hippie backpackers alike seek out relaxation and fun.
Midnight curfews, music bans and police patrols are not introduced in Indian cities every time a rape or murder occurs. The high-profile Keeling case has been turned into an example, made out to be representative of a wider state of affairs in Goa, and the overall level of security there. ‘As attacks on tourists and locals grow, India is witnessing the rise of a new Goa: from a land of susegad [a term that implies leisure and relaxation], it has given rise to an industry of pimps, paedophiles and psychos’, said a report in the Hindustan Times last month.
There has been little outrage over the measures being enforced throughout Goa, or over the extended powers now given to police. Instead, there have been moralistic condemnations of Goa’s ‘decay’, paranoid claims that the state is rife with gun crime, that paedophiles scour its beaches and that female tourists are at constant risk of being raped.
One particularly shrill commentator claimed that ‘Goans simmer as they see their beautiful land being taken over by the dark forces’. But they - and the tourist board - should be more worried about the illiberal forces taking over Goa. Who wants to holiday in a place where you can’t walk down the beach without being eyed by a cop, and where the authorities tell you what time to go to bed? These disproportionate responses form the biggest threat to the reputation of Goa and to its tourist industry.
This article was written by Sadhvi Sharma, a writer based in Bombay and first appeared on Spiked Online on 3rd April 2008. Read the article in full here.