The streets of Old Goa are like libraries, filled with stories written not in books but in stone, plaster, and faded paint. Each building is a chapter, a memory of the city’s once-glorious past when it was the centre of the Portuguese empire in the East.
Among the most significant monuments that stand like sentinels of this history is the Basilica of Bom Jesus, perhaps the most famous building in Goa. The church, built in 1605 by the Portuguese, is a testament not only to their colonial ambitions but also to the rich cultural and religious exchange that characterised the era.
Known locally in Konkani as “Boreo Jezuchi Bajilika,” meaning the Basilica of Good Jesus, the church is best known for housing the remains of St. Francis Xavier, one of the Catholic Church’s most celebrated missionaries. The saint’s journey began in Goa, a small port on the western coast of India that had become the gateway to the vast territories Portugal controlled in Asia.
From Goa, Francis Xavier would venture to Indonesia, Japan, and China, spreading the Christian faith. His work in Asia has been celebrated for its reach, but his death in 1552, just seven years after he arrived in India, added a mystique to his legacy that has persisted for centuries.
St. Francis Xavier’s body was exhumed three times after his death, in an effort to retrieve relics for devotion and veneration. Miraculously, each time his remains were uncovered, they showed no signs of decay. This phenomenon only added to the saint’s reputation as a vessel of divine power, and when the body was returned to Goa in 1637, it was enshrined in the Basilica of Bom Jesus.
There, encased in a silver casket, it has remained remarkably preserved, attracting thousands of pilgrims and tourists. In some ways, the enduring preservation of Xavier’s remains mirrors the grand construction of the Taj Mahal, which was built in the same period but for a very different purpose: the eternalization of love, not faith. Though both the Basilica and the Taj Mahal are masterpieces of their time, the former has experienced a slow decay that seems to mirror the changing fortunes of Old Goa itself.
The Basilica’s architectural grandeur is striking, with its fusion of European Baroque and local influences. It is a celebration of both the faith and the imperial ambitions of the Jesuit order. The floor, entirely made of marble, is inlaid with precious stones that shine even in the dim light of the church.
This opulence bears similarities to Mughal architecture, especially the Taj Mahal, which also features intricate inlay work and lavish decoration. Yet, the Basilica of Bom Jesus is distinct, blending Doric, Corinthian, and Ionic columns in a harmonious display of baroque sensibility. This combination of classical orders creates a sense of grandeur and majesty, befitting a church that was meant to house the relics of a saint and the power of an empire.
However, time and nature have not been kind to the Basilica. Though St. Francis Xavier’s body has defied decay, the walls of the church itself have been slowly eroding. The monsoon rains, which lash Goa each year, have exacerbated the damage, leading to cracks and the deterioration of the building’s intricate details. The church, a precious historical monument, now bears the marks of age. The crumbling walls stand as a silent reminder of the passage of time and neglect.
The condition of the Basilica has long been a cause of concern for preservationists, but efforts to restore the church have been met with resistance. The chief obstacle lies in the tug-of-war between the church authorities and the Archaeological Survey of India (ASI), which currently holds the title of protector of the site.
The ASI, despite its official mandate, has not taken significant steps to address the Basilica’s deteriorating condition. The church authorities, who have witnessed the slow destruction of this important historical and religious monument, are eager to act but are constrained by bureaucratic red tape. The situation has become more dire with each passing year, as the church remains vulnerable to the elements—and, more recently, to fire.
A recent fire near the church underscored just how fragile the Basilica has become. It served as a wake-up call for many, revealing that the structure is now perilously close to collapse. Despite this, the ASI has remained hesitant to approve major restoration work, citing concerns about maintaining the building’s authenticity.
The church authorities, meanwhile, argue that without immediate action, the Basilica could be lost forever. They have called for more proactive conservation measures, such as the rendering and plastering of exposed surfaces to create a protective barrier against further damage. This method, as Portuguese conservationist José Degaldo Rodrigues explains, is a sacrificial layer that has proven effective for centuries in safeguarding historical buildings.
Yet, the ASI’s unwillingness to relinquish control over the Basilica has meant that no substantial restoration work has been carried out. This has left the church in a precarious state, teetering on the brink of irreversible damage. For those who view the Basilica not just as a religious site but as a symbol of Goa’s colonial history and cultural heritage, the situation is deeply frustrating.
The church is a UNESCO World Heritage site, a designation that should ideally offer protection and ensure that the site is preserved for future generations. But without the cooperation of the ASI and the approval of the church authorities to undertake the necessary restorations, the Basilica’s fate hangs in the balance.
The Basilica of Bom Jesus is more than just a building; it is a physical manifestation of Goa’s history. It stands as a reminder of the Portuguese colonial period, of the cultural and religious exchanges that defined the region, and of the lasting legacy of St. Francis Xavier, whose work in Asia set the stage for the spread of Christianity in the East.
Yet it also reflects the fragility of history, the difficulty of preserving the past in a world that is constantly changing, and the tension between the forces that seek to protect and those that seek to alter or discard. As the Basilica slowly crumbles, it is a poignant symbol of the challenge of preserving the stories that shape our identities, a challenge that grows more urgent with each passing year. If steps are not taken soon, the Basilica may indeed become a place of ruins, a monument to what once was, but no longer is.
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