Audra Simpson’s seminal work, Mohawk Interruptus: Political Life Across the Borders of Settler States, provides a compelling lens for examining how colonized or Indigenous peoples challenge dominant power structures. At its core is the concept of the politics of refusal, a deliberate rejection of the liberal politics of recognition, where governing authorities extend limited acknowledgments, rights, or inclusions that ultimately reinforce subordination rather than enable genuine liberation. Recognition, in this view, often “fixes” subjects within the dominant framework, essentializing identities and perpetuating dependency. Refusal, by contrast, interrupts settler or colonial narratives, affirms alternative sovereignties, and sustains everyday practices of self-determination. Simpson describes this as a “cartography of refusal,” where communities like the Mohawk of Kahnawà:ke assert their integrity across imposed borders, existing simultaneously within and apart from the encompassing state while rejecting full incorporation.
This framework resonates profoundly with contemporary Goan experiences, where unique cultural, linguistic, and ecological identities face ongoing pressures from development, migration, and centralized governance. “Goan Interruptus” captures the ways Goans collectively and individually refuse to be fully subsumed into homogenizing narratives that overlook their distinct Indo-Portuguese syncretic heritage, Konkani-rooted ethos, and place-based lifeways. The phrase “Enough is Enough” (in Konkani, “Āṇik sōnsūṁ nējō”) has emerged as a powerful rallying cry in recent mobilizations, signaling a threshold moment of refusal: no longer tolerating unchecked ecological degradation, cultural erosion, or political neglect. It demands an end to practices that threaten Goa’s fragile ecology and communal integrity, framing these as existential threats to Goan existence itself.
Historical and Cultural Foundations of Refusal
Goa’s distinctiveness stems from centuries of Portuguese influence blended with indigenous and broader Indic elements, producing a vibrant Catholic-Hindu syncretism evident in festivals, architecture, cuisine, and language. Konkani, with its Devanagari and Roman scripts, serves as a cornerstone of identity, embodying oral traditions, folk songs, and literary expressions that resist linguistic homogenization. The language movement of the 1980s, which secured Konkani’s official status and paved the way for statehood in 1987, exemplified early refusal: Goans asserted their linguistic sovereignty against pressures to prioritize Marathi or impose Hindi in official and educational spheres. This was not mere cultural preservation but a political act, interrupting assumptions of seamless integration into larger linguistic or national frameworks.
Everyday practices further illustrate Goan Interruptus. Maintaining traditional village feasts like Shigmo or Carnival with local flair, upholding family-run taverns and feni distillation, or resisting the commodification of beaches and heritage sites through mass tourism—these acts affirm a grounded, relational way of life. They reject the reduction of Goa to a consumable paradise, prioritizing lived community over external validation or economic “gifts” like unchecked development projects.
Contemporary Mobilization: The “Enough is Enough” Movement
The “Enough is Enough” initiative, spearheaded by retired Chief Justice Ferdino Rebello, crystallized these refusals into a broad-based people’s movement. Launched amid mounting ecological crises—rampant hill cutting, illegal land filling, conversion of paddy fields and orchards, and violations of environmental regulations—the movement gained momentum following incidents that exposed systemic failures, including regulatory lapses and nexus between authorities and developers. In early January 2026, hundreds gathered in Panaji at venues like Menezes Braganza Hall, adopting a “People’s Charter” that demands protection of hills, lakes, rivers, fields, culture, and demography.
The charter calls for halting further hill development, enforcing strict adherence to contour maps and regional plans, curbing real estate encroachments, and addressing demographic shifts that alter village compositions through unchecked land purchases. Protesters emphasize accountability, rejecting superficial accommodations or token environmental measures that fail to address root causes. Subsequent meetings in places like Varca and Margao amplified these demands, urging citizens to press legislators for reforms, including amendments to land revenue and planning laws to prevent misuse of cultivable or eco-sensitive areas.
This is refusal in action: interrupting official complacency by refusing to accept “development” as inevitable or beneficial when it erodes Goa’s carrying capacity. It targets the plunder of natural resources—hills leveled for construction, wetlands filled, fields rezoned—framing these not as isolated issues but as assaults on Goan identity and future. The movement insists it is non-partisan, rooted in constitutional solutions and people’s power, yet it fundamentally contests the politics of recognition offered by governing structures: limited consultations, piecemeal protections, or economic incentives that mask deeper dispossession.
Decolonial Implications and Nested Autonomy
Applying Simpson’s insights, Goan Interruptus rejects forms of recognition that incorporate Goans into dominant frameworks without substantive change. Token nods to culture—festivals promoted for tourism, heritage sites marketed globally—often serve external interests while diluting local control. True decoloniality, here, involves delinking from such validations, prioritizing self-grounded practices: Konkani assertion, ecological stewardship rooted in traditional knowledge, and historical memory that honors Goa’s unique trajectory.
This refusal opens possibilities for nested autonomy—Goa as integral yet sovereign in its cultural and ecological specificity. It echoes Indigenous resurgence thinkers who advocate rebuilding from place-based ethics rather than seeking approval from centralized powers. While not all Goans align with every aspect (many value integration and progress), the persistent voices demonstrate refusal’s generative potential: it sustains alternative political lives, interrupts erasure, and rebuilds community amid pressures.
In saying “Enough is Enough,” Goans assert that freedom lies not in inclusion within imposed terms but in the courage to refuse disappearance. Like the Mohawk interruptions that disrupt settler sovereignty’s smooth operation, Goan Interruptus declares a living, vibrant political subjectivity—one that demands the right to exist on its own terms, protecting land, language, and lifeways for generations to come. This movement, still unfolding, underscores that decoloniality is ongoing contestation: a refusal to vanish, a commitment to interrupt, and a collective affirmation that Goa and Goans endure.
