THE COLOUR IS PRESTIGIOUS; THE PROCESS MUST BE TOO

Goa Police receives the President’s Colour, but the honour also raises questions about policing excellence, transparency, measurable outcomes and institutional integrity.

The President’s Colour, popularly known as Rashtrapati ka Nishan, is a prestigious institutional honour conferred on police forces and other disciplined forces in recognition of exceptional service. The honour symbolises national recognition of courage, excellence and distinguished service. The Ministry of Home Affairs’ current guidelines describe it as an honour that recognises achievements in areas including combat, humanitarian operations, training and infrastructure.

The Indian Navy was the first armed force to receive the President’s Colour, in 1951, and the tradition subsequently extended to state police forces. Uttar Pradesh received it in 1952, followed by Delhi Police and Maharashtra Police. Madhya Pradesh, Nagaland, Jammu and Kashmir, Tripura and, subsequently, several other state forces were also honoured.

For Goa Police, therefore, the presentation of the President’s Colour is undoubtedly a moment of pride. The ceremony at the Shyama Prasad Mukherjee Indoor Stadium, with Union home minister Amit Shah presenting the Colour on behalf of the President, marks an important milestone for the force.

But an honour of this stature should also invite some reflection on the institution receiving it. Goa Police has a history that predates Liberation. The Polícia do Estado da Índia (PEI) was established by the Portuguese regime in April 1946. Until then, policing, including maintenance of law and order, was carried out by the Portuguese military. The PEI subsequently became heavily involved in containing the freedom movement, particularly after Dr Ram Manohar Lohia’s civil disobedience movement in 1946. Goa Police’s own history records that the force later acquired notoriety for its brutal repression of the freedom movement.

Following Liberation on December 19, 1961, Goa Police underwent a fundamental transformation. N R Nagu became the first Inspector General of Police of free Goa, while policing systems based on Indian laws and procedures were introduced. A major reorganisation followed the recommendations of B Shetty, Additional DGP in the CBI, after his 1965 study of the force.

I had the privilege of serving alongside some of the old-timers who joined during that transition. When I entered the service, many were nearing retirement. I found them disciplined, dedicated and deeply loyal to their uniform. They belonged to a very different era of policing, but their commitment to the force left an impression.Over the years, Goa Police has undergone tremendous change in its functioning and public interface. It has worked towards becoming more people-friendly and community-oriented. Its motto, Shanti, Seva, Nyaya, reflects the ideal of a police force that serves the citizens.

Why Goa Police received the honour

The reasons cited for the honour include policing excellence, modernisation and infrastructure, specialised security capabilities and public-safety initiatives. These include improvements in law-enforcement infrastructure and forensic capabilities, adoption of modern technology, coastal security, intelligence and anti-narcotics operations, and initiatives such as the Pink Force aimed at women's safety.

These are all important areas of policing. Yet I find the justification somewhat uninspiring unless these claims are supported by measurable outcomes.

Take the Pink Force. It is a welcome initiative, but its introduction alone cannot establish its success. What has been its measurable outcome? How many cases has it handled? How effectively has it responded to citizens? What has been the public response? These are questions that should be answered before a relatively new initiative is held up as evidence of policing excellence.

The same scrutiny should apply to modernisation and technology. Infrastructure, forensic facilities and sophisticated equipment are useful only if they translate into better investigation, faster justice and greater public confidence. Similarly, coastal security, intelligence and anti-narcotics operations are vital for Goa, but their effectiveness should ultimately be judged by outcomes.

This is not to belittle the achievements of Goa Police. It is to suggest that an honour of this stature should be accompanied by a clear account of what distinguished the force and why it was considered worthy at this particular point in time.

The MHA’s 2025 guidelines are a welcome development. They lay down eligibility requirements and measurable indicators covering police-public ratio, women’s representation, public safety, technology, training, welfare and major achievements.

Yet the expanding list of recipients also raises questions about the exclusivity and transparency of the honour.

A closer look at recent awards does not establish a clear pattern of political or election timing.

Gujarat received the Colour in 2019, Himachal Pradesh in 2021, Assam and Tamil Nadu in 2022, Haryana in 2023 and Chhattisgarh in 2024. The dates do not consistently coincide with Assembly elections: some awards preceded elections, while others followed them. I make no allegation that electoral considerations influenced any of these decisions. My concern is different. When an honour is meant to recognise professional excellence, the public should be able to see clearly what distinguishes one police force from another and why the honour was conferred at a particular time.

I do not grudge these forces their recognition. Many have produced outstanding officers and demonstrated exceptional courage, professionalism and innovation. My grievance is with a system in which the comparative basis for selection is not sufficiently visible. Greater transparency would strengthen the prestige of the President’s Colour rather than diminish it.

As I have written before, there is always a danger of “an inability to separate the wheat from the chaff or the failure to distinguish between quality and mediocrity”.

For Goa Police, however, this remains an occasion to celebrate. From its difficult beginnings in 1946 and the transformation following Liberation, the force has come a long way. Generations of officers and personnel have served Goa, and several have made their mark at the national level.

The honour belongs not merely to those occupying positions today, but to the generations of policemen and women who built the institution and served it through difficult periods of transition.

As a retired IPS officer, I was honoured to have been invited to the presentation ceremony. I attended the function alongside my former colleagues and saluted those currently serving. I must say the ceremony was impressive, and the force showcased an excellent parade.

The challenges facing today's police are more complex than those we confronted during my service. Criminality can be tackled through better training, technology, investigation and professional policing. The more difficult challenge is maintaining institutional integrity while working within the political and administrative system.

I remain proud of the khaki I once wore. I was once a citizen in uniform; today I remain a policeman without the uniform—a citizen who still believes in the service.

The President’s Colour should not merely be a decorative addition to the uniform. It should be a reminder of the standards the force must continually strive to uphold: Shanti, Seva, Nyaya. If Goa Police can live up to those words, the honour will mean far more than a ceremonial flag.

Bosco George

Columnist

Saturday nights in Goa have always followed a familiar rhythm. From Calangute and Baga to Anjuna, Vagator, Morjim, Mandrem and Arambol, the coastal belt turns into a glowing strip of music and excitement, with thousands asking the same question: â€œWhere’s the party tonight?â€ But the night of December 6 and 7 will not be remembered for revelry. It will be remembered as a night when celebration turned into horror. The fire that ripped through Birch by Romeo Lane in Arpora, a popular nightclub built more on glamour than safety, ended at least 25 lives in minutes. Young workers, tourists and staff members were trapped in a basement that should never have existed in the first place, cramped, flammable and completely unprepared for disaster. This was not an accident. It was a man-made tragedy built on negligence and enabled by a system that has, for years, allowed businesses to thrive without accountability. It is not enough to blame the club owners alone. The tougher questions lie elsewhere. How was such a structure allowed to function? Where were the fire safety checks? Who issued or renewed the licences? And why do our regulatory bodies, Town and Country Planning, local panchayats, PWD, Electricity, Fire Services, Pollution Control and others, so often fail in their basic responsibility of protecting human life? As expected, the standard script has already begun. A criminal case is registered. A few arrests are made. Leaders issue statements promising that â€œno one will be spared.â€ Compensation is announced. Then comes the familiar slide into delay, with multiple inquiries, muddled evidence, weak charges and a slow trial that eventually collapses under its own weight. It always ends the same way, with families waiting for closure, anger fading into exhaustion and the system quietly readying itself for the next disaster. The initial sections invoked in the case may sound adequate, but they fall short of the gravity of this crime. Stronger provisions like criminal conspiracy and abetment should have been added from the start. Without them, the chain of complicity will remain hidden and officials responsible will slip away. Random arrests made only to calm public anger will ultimately weaken the case. What is needed is careful, uncompromised custodial questioning of those who approved, inspected or ignored the establishment’s glaring violations. Unless government officials are questioned and held accountable, the political influence and corruption that protect such venues will never come to light. India does not lack laws. It lacks the will to enforce them when the powerful are involved. The tragedy in Goa echoes another national wound, the Uphaar Cinema fire of 1997. There too, blocked exits, faulty systems and regulatory lapses killed 59 people. It took 18 years for convictions, and even then the families were left battling fatigue as much as injustice. Compensation eventually came, but it could never match the depth of their loss. One of the grieving families was that of Dr S. S. Sidhu, former Governor of Goa, who lost four members that night. He later created a trust for children using part of the compensation. His gesture was dignified, but born from unbearable pain. Today, the Goa government has announced a magisterial inquiry. But such inquiries rarely deliver accountability. They often serve more to manage public anger than to deliver truth. If the intention is genuine, what is needed is a judicial inquiry, one with the independence and authority to examine not just the club owners but every regulatory body whose negligence contributed to this tragedy. For now, our responsibility is twofold. We must support the grieving families, and we must ensure their legal fight does not become another endless and punishing ordeal. Civil remedies through tort law must be pursued so that compensation is meaningful and not symbolic. But even more important is a collective insistence on structural change. Tears are not enough. Outrage is not enough. Promises are not enough. What Goa needs now is accountability that is real, uncomfortable and enforced from the top. Because if we fail to demand it today, we are accepting that Saturday nights in Goa will always carry an unspoken risk. And when the next preventable tragedy strikes, we will again stand amid smoke, grief and unanswered questions, wondering why nothing ever changes.

2 POSTS

342 READS

THE COLOUR IS PRESTIGIOUS; THE PROCESS MUST BE TOO

Related from our columnists

SOUND POLLUTION CONTROVERSIES IN MAHARASHTRA: IS GOA HEADING TOWARDS THE SAME DEBATE?