The Goa Inquisition represents one of the most traumatic and under-explored chapters in the history of Bhārat (India). Spanning several centuries under Portuguese colonial rule, this period was plagued by massacres, religious persecution, forced conversions, and the systematic suppression of Hindu culture in Goa. Despite its magnitude, the Goa Inquisition has not received much attention in mainstream historical studies or educational curricula. (Dr Vinay Nalwa, 2023)
This essay aims to raise awareness of the suffering endured by Konkani Hindus during this period and to highlight its continuing impact on the Konkani Hindu community today. Understanding this history not only sheds light on the challenges faced by the Konkani population but also provides valuable insights into the present-day struggles of marginalised Hindu communities in regions such as Pakistan, Kashmir, and Bangladesh. The phrase, “History repeats itself”, could never be unfortunately true, in the instances of Hindu persecution or genocide. The objective of this thesis/study is to focus on the Goa Inquisition chapter.
The Portuguese arrived in Goa, India in the early 16th century, initially with the assistance of sections of the local Konkani Hindu population. At the time, the region was under the rule of Ibrahim Adil Shah of the Bijapur Sultanate, whose oppressive policies had created discontent among the local population. The Portuguese invasion targeted parts of modern-day Goa, particularly the talukas of Salcette (Sashashti), Bardez, and select islands, representing roughly one-eighth of the present-day territory. (Priolkar, 1992)
What followed was the imposition of the Inquisition, one of the most severe instruments of colonial and religious control. The Inquisition’s primary objectives were the suppression of Hinduism and the promotion of Christianity through missionaries. This was enforced through acts of violence, destruction of temples, confiscation of properties, and severe punishments against those who resisted conversion. (Priolkar, 1992)
Before the arrival of the Portuguese, Hindus constituted an overwhelming majority of Goa’s population, estimated at between 90–99% during the 16th century. Over the course of the Inquisition and subsequent colonial policies, this demographic drastically changed. By the early 20th century, the Hindu population of Goa had been reduced to less than 15%. (Dr Vinay Nalwa, 2023) (The Catholic Encyclopedia: Fathers-Gregory, 1909)
This decline was not only the result of forced conversions and massacres but also mass displacement. Large sections of the Konkani Hindu community fled to neighbouring regions, including present-day Maharashtra, Karnataka, Kerala, and Gujarat. The dispersal of these populations contributed to the fragmentation of Konkani cultural identity, with many families losing direct ties to their ancestral lands. (Sangam Talks, 2018)
The cultural consequences were profound. Centuries of suppression resulted in the erosion of indigenous practices, rituals, and linguistic traditions. Many Konkani Hindus continue to grapple with this loss of identity, which has contributed to social and cultural challenges within the community today.
In the Skanda Purana, a historical Hindu text, the Konkan region, including what is now Goa, was reclaimed by the Hindu warrior-sage Parashurama, in a story which says he shot an arrow into the sea. The land that emerged became Gomantak, regarded as the cradle of Goan civilisation (Sangam Talks, 2018).
In historical and oral tradition, 108 Gaud Sarasvat families migrated and settled here around 1000 BC, fleeing the drought caused by the river Sarasvati drying up. They were divided into two groups:
These clan-based settlements laid foundational social structures still referenced today. (Nicolau, 1878)
Community Governance: Gaunkaris (Gaonkaris) and Communidades Life in these regions, especially in Salcete, Bardez, and Tiswadi, revolved around a village-based governance system, called the Gaunkar system, where land and resources were managed communally. The original settlers and their male descendants held rights through associations known as gaunkaris, later formalised by the Portuguese as comunidades. (Priolkar, 1992)
Tiswadi and the surrounding territories frequently alternated between regional powers. Prior to Portuguese arrival, the area saw shifting control between the Bahmani Sultanate, the Vijayanagara Empire, and eventually the Bijapur Sultanate of the Adil Shahi dynasty in the 15th century. Under the Bijapur Sultanate, Goa, including Tiswadi, served as a regional capital. Despite Muslim rule and temple desecrations, traditional social structures like the gaunkari continued to function to some extent. (Dr Vinay Nalwa, 2023)
All three regions, Bārdez, Tiswadi, and Salcete, were known for salt production, leveraging their estuarine geography (estuaries of the Mandovi, Zuari, Chapora, Terekhol, and Sal rivers). Salt farming was a vital economic activity, likely dating back centuries. In addition, the khazan system, a traditional method of coastal land reclamation and rice-fish agriculture using bunds and sluice gates was practised prominently in Bārdez. This system originated at least as early as the 5th–6th century and reflects the enduring ingenuity in managing Goa’s unique wetlands (Dr Vinay Nalwa, 2023)
In 1510, the Portuguese, under the military leadership of Afonso de Albuquerque, seized control of Goa from the Sultanate of Bijapur with crucial assistance from Timoja, a local privateer and leader who had long resisted Bijapur’s rule. Timoji guided Albuquerque to believe that Goa would be easy to capture because of its weakened defences and internal strife. Albuquerque initially captured Goa, withdrew due to instability, and then returned in November 1510 with reinforcements to successfully take control by December. Around 6,000 of the 9,000 defenders perished in the assault. Albuquerque’s success earned him praise and allowed him to consolidate power in the region. (Dellon, Amiel and Lima, 1997)
Following the conquest, Albuquerque maintained a relatively moderate stance toward indigenous communities. While conversions began in the early 1500s, they were limited and discreet, partly to sustain trade relationships and harmony with the local Hindu merchant class. This way, there would be social and economic stability in the region, which was essential for its prosperity. (Sushil Chaudhury, Morineau and France, 1999)
Francis Xavier, the Jesuit missionary active across Portuguese India, broadened his missionary efforts to Goa in the early 1540s. He observed a marked return to pre-Christian practices among new converts and saw this as a threat to the permanence of their conversions. (Dellon, Amiel and Lima, 1997)
In 1546, Xavier penned a letter to King John III of Portugal, urging the institution of the Holy Inquisition in India. He framed it as essential for ensuring converts remained steadfast within Christianity and called for punitive measures for failing governors. (Sushil Chaudhury, Morineau and France, 1999)
Although Xavier’s recommendation was made in 1546, the formal Goa Inquisition only began officially around 1560, well after his death in 1552. Its legal framework was solidified by 1567, under the regency of Queen Catherine and under the influence of clerics such as Cardinal Henrique. (Teotonio R De Souza, 1990)
Accounts suggest there was already a religious push from figures such as Miguel Vaz, who advocated for the destruction of all Hindu temples in Goa by 1546, under the guise of religious purification. Thus began the period of ethnic cleansing. (Sangam Talks, 2018)
Throughout this dark period, there were many villages which had been burned down, destroyed, massacred, and even had people kidnapped from.
In 1566, the Portuguese government issued an unjust law banning the construction of new Hindu temples and the restoration of existing ones. The law further prohibited the creation of murtis (sacred idols), and imposed imprisonment on violators, while rewarding informants, a broad and ambiguously defined policy that invited widespread abuse and targeting of Hindus. This was also used as a tactic to divide the Hindu population through repeated acts of betrayal. (Dr Vinay Nalwa, 2023)
That same year, the Mangeshi Temple, one of the most prominent Mandirs, was demolished to make way for a Christian church. Yet, local devotees preserved the deity’s image (murti), securing a continuity of worship outside Portuguese-controlled domains. (Sangam Talks, 2018)
In 1583, Portuguese forces attempted to raze the Shantadurga Temple dedicated to the village goddess (Gramadevi) in Kunkulam, now known as “Cuncolim” (Portuguese influence). The villagers resisted fiercely and momentarily expelled the Portuguese. However, after agreeing to a truce, they were betrayed, the local chieftains were locked inside a building, and the entire village was burned alive, refusing mercy to all but one survivor, who escaped by fleeing downstream toward Karnataka (via a river), preserving the harrowing tale. There are many such stories in many other villages; however, this is the only documented massacre that remains. Many documents of other villages facing similar situations have been destroyed, and their stories have not been heard. We know that these stories do exist because of the number of Konkani Hindus that got expelled to other parts of the West coast. Currently, most Hindus who speak Konkani do not come from Goa, but rather neighbouring regions of the Indian West Coast. They can’t have all come from Kunkulam; there must have been many other villages. (Priolkar, 1992)
That same year, in Kunkulam, the rebellion took a dramatic turn. When Jesuit priests and their Christian converts ventured into the village to establish a church, local gaonkars (village headmen) retaliated, killing five priests along with one Portuguese civilian and fourteen native Christians. (Priolkar, 1992)
In swift retaliation, the colonial authorities destroyed orchard fields and summoned sixteen chieftains under false pretences to the Fort of Assolna, where all were executed in cold blood, except one, who escaped to Karwar by jumping into the Sal River. Subsequently, the lands of the remaining villagers in Cuncolim, Velim, Assolna, Ambelim, and Veroda were confiscated and handed over to the Marquis of Fronteira. The temple of Shantadurga Kunkulikarian was relocated to nearby Fatorpa, and the site of the massacre later became home to the Church of Nossa Senhora de Saúde. (Priolkar, 1992)
Beyond these two tragedies, Portuguese authorities orchestrated a broader campaign of temple destruction. In Salcete, Diogo Rodrigues supervised the demolition of numerous temples, including those dedicated to Kamakshi, Ramnathi, Shantadurga, and Mangeshi and personally oversaw the annihilation of sacred spaces across multiple villages, with the stolen properties transferred to Christian institutions. (Sangam Talks, 2018)
According to compiled estimates, hundreds of temples were razed in Salcete and Bardez, with numbers reaching as high as 280 in Salcete and 300 in Bārdez, executed under the direction of Jesuits and Franciscans alike (Sangam Talks, 2018)
From the mid-16th century onward, the Portuguese Crown, working through colonial administrators, missionaries, and the Inquisition, institutionalised a series of anti-Hindu laws that systematically eroded the civil, social, and cultural rights of the indigenous population of Goa. These legal measures were intended not only to suppress Hindu religious practice but also to ensure political, economic, cultural, and social domination by the colonial authorities and the Catholic Church.
The cumulative effect of these laws created unbearable pressure on Hindu communities. Many sought refuge by fleeing across the rivers of Goa into territories ruled by Hindu or Muslim kings, particularly in present-day Karnataka and Maharashtra. This struggle for escape and survival is poignantly captured in the famous Konkani folk song “Haav Saiba Poltodi Vaita” (“O Lord, I am going across the river”), which reflects the desperation of those trying to cross the Zuari River to escape Christian persecution. (Manohararāya Saradesāya, 2000)
These discriminatory policies were not isolated legal oddities but rather part of a deliberate colonial strategy to dismantle Hindu society in Goa. Coupled with the Inquisition’s terror apparatus and repeated incidents of mass violence, including village burnings and forced displacements, collectively amounted to what many historians and descendants describe as cultural genocide. (Manohararāya Saradesāya, 2000)
While violence was widespread, conversions also occurred through cunning and deceptive coercion. We can broadly categorise this as the contamination of food and water sources. There are accounts of Portuguese agents putting beef inside wells to convince Hindus that they have lost ritual purity and therefore must convert to Christianity. There are many other traditions which were manipulated for the same purpose. (De, 1989)
The Konkani language, the lifeline of local culture, was aggressively suppressed. In the late 17th century, decrees made speaking Konkani in public illegal, mandating Portuguese for administration and Latin for the Church. Attempts were made to cut off the population from its own oral traditions, folklore, and scriptural recitations.
Traditional clothing was similarly targeted. Hindu men and women were banned from wearing dhoti, sari, and kurta (the traditional clothing items), with European garments made compulsory. Even minor customs were monitored. For example, eating plain rice was linked with Hindu identity, whilst Christians were instead associated with “salty rice.” Hindus were sometimes force-fed salted rice as an act of humiliation and symbolic erasing of their identity. (De, 1989) (Panikkar, 1999)
The Goa Inquisition employed brutal methods to instil fear and ensure compliance. Commonly recorded tortures included:
The most infamous punishment was the Auto da Fé (“Act of Faith”), a public spectacle where “heretics” and “apostates” were paraded before being burned alive. This punishment was often inflicted not only on practising Hindus but also on neo-converts accused of “backsliding” into Hindu customs. (Panikkar, 1999) (Sawani Shetye, 2022)
In Old Goa, there is a monument called Haatkatro Khamb, literally translating to “Hand-cutting pillar”. This was named that because in this period, one of the punishments was to tie “heretics” and “apostates” to the pillar. The Portuguese officials would then chop the accused’s hands off and leave them to bleed to death.
Women were disproportionately vulnerable. Beyond forced conversions, they were subjected to sexual violence, mutilation, and enslavement. Records and oral histories indicate instances of women being trafficked to Portuguese colonies in Brazil, Mozambique, and East Africa, where they were sold into slavery or forced concubinage/marriage. They did this as an alternative to the practice of Sati, which they had banned to ‘reform’ Hindu practices. Some sources also allege that women endured genital mutilation as part of punitive practices, though such acts were rarely documented officially. (Panikkar, 1999) (Sawani Shetye, 2022)
Despite Portuguese efforts to conceal the full extent of their crimes, many Inquisition records were deliberately destroyed after its abolition in 1812. Surviving documentation provides chilling statistics. Between 1560 and 1623, for a population of roughly 250,000-300,000, there were 16,712 recorded cases of torture and executions in Goa. The true number is likely much higher, due to concealment.
The combined effect of these laws and brutalities was catastrophic for Goa’s Hindu society:
By the early 20th century, the demographic consequences of the prolonged Goa Inquisition were stark. According to the Catholic Encyclopedia of 1909, Christians accounted for approximately 80.33% of Goa’s population, with 293,628 out of 365,291 individuals identifying as Catholic. Before the Inquisition, the Christians represented an estimated 10-15% of the population, even after the subtle conversions. These overwhelming statistics reflect the centuries of forced conversions, oppression, and cultural upheaval, which decimated the Hindu presence in the territory. (The Catholic Encyclopedia: Fathers-Gregory, 1909)
Goa’s annexation by India through Operation Vijay in 1961 marked a tremendous demographic reversal. By that time, a mass exodus of Catholic Goans had already begun, reducing their share significantly.
Subsequent censuses highlight the pace of change:
This demographic realignment was driven by two intertwined factors:
Large numbers of Hindus fled Goa during the Inquisition (16th–18th centuries), resettling in Maharashtra, Karnataka, Kerala, and Gujarat. Many of their descendants still live in these regions. These displaced groups carried their Konkani traditions, deities, and festivals, but being scattered across regions. Eventually, they adapted to local cultures. Over time, different dialects of Konkani emerged, influenced by Marathi, Kannada, Tulu, and Malayalam. This created a fragmented Konkani identity, where language and cultural practices varied depending on the region of refuge.
While not directly demographic, this period also saw a cultural reclamation:
Today, many Konkani families, especially those who migrated centuries ago, speak Marathi, Kannada, or Malayalam instead of Konkani. This may be an indication that the language could go extinct within the coming decades.
The Goa Inquisition is not merely a matter of the past. It continues to hold relevance for understanding present-day challenges faced by Hindu communities across the Indian subcontinent (South Asia). The patterns of persecution, forced displacement, and cultural suppression witnessed in Goa find disturbing parallels with the ongoing experiences of Hindus in Pakistan, Bangladesh, Kashmir, West Bengal and the North-Eastern states. The methods may differ in detail, but the underlying themes, such as the denial of religious freedom, destruction of cultural institutions, erosion of language, and demographic transformation, are disturbingly similar.
Despite the magnitude of the suffering endured during the Goan Inquisition, the broader Hindu community has often failed to integrate these lessons into its collective memory. This has resulted in a weak awareness of the mechanisms by which oppression takes root and how it can be resisted. Goa’s Hindu traditions, even today, continue to recover from the cultural trauma of centuries of suppression. The displacement of Konkani Hindus from their homeland severed them from their ancestral roots, and the Konkani language itself was severely weakened. In many diasporic Konkani communities, Marathi, Kannada, or Malayalam have become dominant, leaving Konkani struggling for survival despite ongoing revival efforts.
The key lesson lies in recognising how easily cultural identity can be eroded when communities are fragmented and their languages and traditions suppressed. If urgent measures are not taken to protect vulnerable Hindu populations in regions such as Pakistan, Bangladesh, Kashmir, West Bengal, and the North Eastern states, history may, or rather will, repeat itself. Just as large sections of the Konkani Hindu population lost both their homeland and their cultural continuity, these communities too may face permanent displacement, assimilation, or extinction.
Thus, the Goa Inquisition serves as a reminder not only of the resilience of Hindu traditions but also of the cost of inaction. The safeguarding of language, rituals, and cultural identity must remain a priority if such histories are not to be repeated in new forms in the modern age.
Figure 1: Map of Portuguese Goa (red) marked within the current map of the Indian state of Goa (Wikimedia.org, 2009)
