Letters from Portugal: A Geração à rasca

Three French men, Louis XVI, Napoleon Bonaparte and Alexandre Dumas, are credited with declaring that ‘Europe ends at the Pyrenees’, or alternatively, that ‘Africa begins at the Pyrenees’. What these wicked, wicked men suggested was that the Iberian peninsula, comprising Spain and Portugal, shared more with Africa, northern Africa at any rate, than it did with Europe. A number of Portuguese too will laughingly use this reference to explain away the laxity that marks this western most part of the European continent.

It is no secret that the Portuguese economy is today in an unholy mess. A good number of Portuguese will lay the blame for this mess squarely on the same laxity. The sins on this list are rather long. They will agree that Portugal is not marked by a meritocracy. If you don’t come with the right name and the right background, moving forward could be substantially difficult for you. Add to this the political graft that marks the country’s operation. Business interests and political leadership are shamelessly twined, official power used to further private interests. Joining the European Union has meant that the directives from Europe regarding the setting up of systems and procedures are met, but in a manner that recalls the spirit of that famous response by the Spanish Viceroys in the Americas, ‘I obey, but do not comply.’ The procedure is followed, but the spirit absent, resulting in applicants being caught in the nightmare of bureaucratic purgatories. But perhaps what makes this worse is the situation where there is no widespread culture of popular dissent in Portugal.

In apparent synchrony with the North African comparisons however, the pot boiled over subsequent to the Afro-Arabic revolutions. Fed up with the situation in the country that includes the cut back of funding for students, the lowering of salaries of public functionaries, the rolling back of the rights of workers, the significant amount of unemployment among the young, a good amount of these under the excuse of dealing with the economic crisis, a group of 4 young persons finally said enough is enough. This group of 4, speaking in the name of the geração à rasca, or the cornered generation called for a demonstration in Lisbon on the 12^th of March. They pointed out that their generation was the most qualified generation in Portugal’s long history ever. And yet, large numbers of these youth are unemployed and have to emigrate, to find futures outside of the country.

The response to this call was monumental. Hundreds of thousands of Portuguese congregated to march in the protest scheduled to end at Praça de Restauradores. So large were the numbers that once at the end of the march, they carried on to other parts of the city, continuing to voice their protest at the systems that has pushed the lives, dreams and ambitions of so many in this country into crisis. So large was the demonstration that some have pointed out that this was the single largest protest demonstration in the country subsequent to the collapse of the Estado Novo in 1974. This is perhaps a dubious distinction, pointing once more to the lack of a vibrant culture of political dissent in the country.

As powerful as this demonstration was however, one wonders if it continued to resound with the problems that mark this wonderful but sadly traumatised country. The leaders of the demonstration failed to offer a suggestion to go forward beyond the manifesto that launched the demonstration. The manifesto itself, framed in the broadest possible manner to attract broad support, did not get down to specifics. And here lies the problem, one that we share in Goa. We can demonstrate all we want, but until we are able to mobilise this anger and transform this into a sustained critique of the system, and create agendas for change, we will remain in the rut.

This is not yet the moment for critique though. This is the moment to congratulate the geração à rasca and wish them strength to network and combine to create options for systemic change in their country.

(A version was first published in the Herald March 20 2011)

Between Lisbon and Panjim: Developments for a healthy city

Lisboacho ganv, khoxen anv poitelem

Poitoch Lisboa, viva re Goa, ghara yetelim

A week or so ago, Goan newspapers informed us of the visit of a high-level Portuguese delegation led by the ambassador of Portugal to India, Dr Luis Filipe de Castro Mendes to the Corporation of the City of Panjim. This delegation included the Consul General of Portugal to Goa, and the Director of international relations at the Camara Municipal de Lisboa and proposed signing of a tripartite memorandum of understanding between the Portuguese government, the Goa government and Fundação Oriente for the development of Panjim in vaious areas.

This occurrence is largely representative of good news. The news report suggested that Panjim’s Mayor, Ms. Po has asked for assistance of the Lisbon Municipal Council in areas like city’s internal public transportation and preservation of some heritage buildings in the city. All very good news, there is a need for us to deal with the mounting pressure of traffic in our little town, and nothing would be more sensible than introducing a decent public transportation system within the city; one that would link up efficiently with the public transport that connects other parts of the state to the town. Indeed, perhaps as in Lisbon, we could also work out a system where we have cycle lanes and pedestrian paths that would bring some measure of civility back to the streets of Panjim. Ms. Po suggested as much, when she specifically referred to trying to do something about Panjim’s footpaths. Given that Panjim’s topography is not uniformly level, it might not be a bad idea to introduce buses that allow cycles to be carried, either inside the bus, or outside of it.

Mr. Po seems to have other wonderful ideas as well, and this includes garbage management. For those who are as yet unaware, a good amount of Panjim’s garbage now finds its way to an abandoned quarry site on Taleigão plateau. The quarry is now almost full up to the brim, if not nearing its capacity. Getting an efficient waste management system would not be a bad idea. Except that we know that Goa’s waste management crisis is not the result of a lack of technology. It is the lack of political will; both at the level of the common person, as well as that of the administrative bodies. Nevertheless let us give credit where it is due and note that the initial efforts of such persons as Clinton Vaz, who initiated the system and idea of the segregation of waste is slowly gaining ground. When the Mayor of a city indicates the need for it, you know that we are headed somewhere. For this initiative, thank you Ms. Po, Clinton and the many other activists who were responsible for initiating the idea of waste separation as a solution to Goa’s garbage crisis.

There was a point though when the meeting between this ‘High level delegation’ and the City Corporation seemed to carry in it the seeds for urban disaster. The director of international relations at the Camara Municipal de Lisboa is reported to have indicated that “… we have even offered to extend help in building technical bridges like flyovers in Panaji.” Perhaps this is where we need to smile and get a grip on reality. Panjim is not Lisbon, and perhaps it will never be. Lisbon is the capital city of a country and hosts a population of about 564,402 people. Goa while a capital, caters to a much smaller region and a smaller population. There is no reason for us to assume a need for flyovers when we have not begun to contemplate effective mass transit options.

There was another issue that suggested a need for horrified reaction in the news report, and that was where Ms. Po observed that “the new generation families in the Portuguese capital are asked to construct their houses outside Lisbon, and as an incentive offered free transport to the city, besides their house tax and school fees of the children being borne by the municipality.”

Lisbon is a wonderful and charming city, and surely we should associate with it. However, not all is well with Lisbon. In fact one could go to the extent of suggesting that Lisbon and Goa suffer from similar ills. One significant problem that Lisbon suffers from is that the centre of the city is largely empty of residences and hence shut up. There is a flight from the charming centre of town, and a number of buildings are run down. One of the reasons for this flight and abandoning of buildings are the rental regulations that somehow stand in the way of urban renewal. The problem however is that when these buildings are renewed, they are priced out of the range of the lower to middle class populations. Richer Portuguese and foreigners on the other hand purchase these buildings as investments and holiday homes. (Does this story sound familiar yet?) There is a distinct process of gentrification on in Lisbon’s centre and this is not necessarily a good thing to happen. What is worse, is that the real estate lobby in Lisbon is no worse from that in Goa. There are hundreds of newly built residential buildings in greater Lisbon that are going empty. Some of them have been empty for years now. Thus one has a push out of the historic urban centre, but a greater destruction of the environment in the outlying areas, than there is demand for homes.

There is already a similar process of sorts at work in Goa. A greedy real estate lobby encouraging urban sprawl, and the conversion of Goan homes where real people live, into showcases for the lifestyles of the (largely non-Goan) rich and famous. City improvement does not mean getting people out of the city; it involves getting people to have a better experience in the heart of the city. Ms. Po has already got a part of the equation right, investment in heritage buildings, in public infrastructure like public transport and walkable footpaths. Having people within the city allows for us to have a public and civic life. Shunt people out to suburbs and the civic and public life manages to die.

While conversations and exchanges between Goa and Portugal are something that we should encourage, we should remember that we are not in the game of blindly copying. We need to take from Portugal what we need. Thanks to Portugal’s participation in the EU process, there are a number of participatory governance mechanisms that we could learn. Not least of which is the notion of a service state, where the State serves, if not services it citizens.

Let us a raise a cup to the possibility of a new venture then, and keep our fingers crossed for healthy developments! Or as the lyrics of Lorna’s Lisboa go…

Chintlelem chintop purem zalear puro re Deva

(Subsequent to the publication of this column, it was brought to my attention by a member of the Portuguese delegation that visited the Panjim City Corportation, that Ms. Judice, Director of international relations at the Camara Municipal de Lisboa had been misquoted in the article by the Navhind Times. She did not make any reference to the issue of 'flyovers', and secondly, given that there was no representative from construction and infrastructures integrated into that delegation, a proposal would make not have made any sense at that moment.)

(A version of this column was first published in the Gomantak Times dated 10 Nov 2010)

No Carnaval in Paradise: The impossibilities of Carnaval in a post-Christian world

There is a certain familiarity that Lisbon brings to the Goan visitor. The place is full of familiar names, figures and remembrances. In this context, a friend suggested that rather than think that it was Portuguese names that Goans bore, it was in fact Goan names that the Portuguese carried with them. Goa, in other words, is where Portugal originated.

Now this suggestion seems facile, ridiculous even. We would do well to remember though, that history is always an artifice, a construction of ideas, emphasizing some aspects rather than others, the direction of some flows, rather than others. Much writing and thinking, especially within Portugal, begins from the assertion of Portugal’s gift of culture to the world. Where there is talk of counterflows, the influence of the colonized is seen as only ornamental, superficial. The colonized has not really impacted on the famed continental Portuguese soul.

I am led to these ruminations by my thoughts this last Carnaval. Through the entire festival, I was possessed by a strange irritation; an irritation I just could not figure out. I was sure it had to do with my conviction that Carnaval is a tropical feast, and my being out of Goa and missing the passion with which Carnaval is celebrated in Goa. I argued in my last column that the Goan Carnval is now a brief and gaudy lament for a lost citizenship which is why we Goans are still so passionately celebrate it. It was after seeing my thoughts on paper, that it all came together, and I could place a finger on an alternate source of my irritation.

‘These silly Portuguese are not doing it right’ I kept thinking, holding Goan practice to be the model-type. And indeed why not, since as I will go on to argue, the Goan Carnaval continues to approximate the ideal of what Carnaval is supposed to be. The Portuguese Carnaval simply has ‘to suck’ as a Lisboeta friend put it, because it has largely lost any context that a Carnaval ought to have.

The hierarchy of the Goan Catholic Church may disapprove of it; and our last gasp of fun, before Lent may not quite be the spirit in which we ought to approach Lent. However, we must recognize that the fact that Lent is still taken fairly seriously provides a significant context for the Goan Carnaval. Even if we do not abstain during Lent, the Goan Catholic enters into a social context, not different from that experienced by the errant Muslim during Ramzaan. In not abstaining we recognize deep down, that it is we, the non-abstainers, who are the aberration. In the post-Christian society that Portugal has become, the absence of the tension of restraint that Lent provides to the periods of moral laxity and consumptive excess through the rest of the year, results in a Carnaval without an edge.

The Catholic faith in Portugal has been largely replaced by a more secular faith, that of the ceaseless worship of Mammon, through constant consumption and sensorial gratification. Ghalib perhaps captured it best in his couplet; ‘Hazaron qwahishein aisi ki har qwahish pe dum niklen; bahuth nikle merey armaan, phir bhi kum niklen’ (Thousands of desires, each worth dying for...many of them I have realized...yet I yearn for more...). My perspective is to be sure partial and biased. I am but a few months a Lisboeta, and live in close proximity to Bairro Alto, the veritable temple courtyard of Mammon in Lisbon. In this location, and to quote the Hindi poet Harivansh Rai Bachchan in his poem Madhushala, ‘Every day is Holi, and every night Diwali’.

Carnaval is necessarily a period of abandon, when we create a fleeting material paradise of plenty, to contrast with the daily deprivations we may suffer. As such, it is also a festival with stresses our relationship to the corporeal. When in this consumeristic world, every day is a Carnaval, and want is almost unknown, what sense in having a half week of Carnaval just once a year?

Portugal may be poor, its standards of living lower than in the rest of Europe, and yet, this is not the poverty of its not-so-distant past. It has, despite its grumbling, and it has to be said that the Portuguese lo-ove to grumble, settled comfortably into the Pax Europeana. This Pax is what Foucault has would have called governmentality. A situation where by and large our every material need is taken care off, or at least entertainment and distractions provided if it is not. Portugal’s needs may not be taken care of, but it definitely lives within a bureaucratic and consumeristic net where the edge of frustrated desires are blunted. The Goan Carnaval, as I laboured to indicate last week, is powered by the desire to incarnate a radically different citizenship from the one we currently inhere in. At Carnaval, we dance on the edge of that desire.

Goa, and indeed much of the world, lives outside of such a Pax. We may all be made of the same flesh and blood, but thanks to this Pax, this net of distraction, we realize our bodies (our corpus) in radically different ways from those in the European continent. It is perhaps a realization of this radical difference in corporeality, and the ensuing impossibility of Carnaval in Lisbon, that was at the basis of my irritation through Carnaval this year.

The time of Carnaval, and its relationship to the world, is an ideal. Once we are admitted into this reality, there is no new or old, authentic or pretender. When Portugal (or the colonizer) falls away from this ideal, it is indeed, Goa (or the colony) that becomes the model. The colony then, is where the metropole, can now originate from.

(A version of this column was first published in the Gomantak Times, 24 Feb 2010)

Credits

Image No.1 - Campo das Cebolas - Lisbon
http://www.trekearth.com/gallery/photo1087357.htm

Image No. 2 - Carnaval in Lisbon - 1907
http://xafarica.weblog.com.pt/arquivo/158121.html

Image No. 3 - The Fight Between Carnival and Lent - artwork by Pieter Bruegel
http://apor.wordpress.com/2009/02/20/%C2%ABdominica-ad-carne-levandas%C2%BB/

Image No.4 - Roman Triumph
http://eureferendum.blogspot.com/2008/02/new-roman-empire.html

We’re Brahmins! : The transnational transactions of caste capital

There is a certain segment of readers of this column who believe that it deals too much with caste. For the sake of those readers, I was hoping that my time away from Goa, and in Goa’s former metropole would allow us both to get away from the terrible ‘C’ word. Unfortunately, this was not to be. In a bid to be friendly, a student from one of Portugal’s more ancient universities, told me of a classmate who was also Goan. “He always reminds us that he is a Brahmin” this acquaintance told me with a grin. I rolled my eyes thinking, “Here we go again!”

If we imagine life to be a board-game, then the claims that we make in this game are not mere talk. These claims are in fact strategies, or counters for us to get higher in the game, or retain the position that we have. Flashing the right card at the right time can win us a particular round of the game. Thus we often flash our upper-caste belongings when there is need, through the way we speak, the way we look, our names, etc. This country, as almost any honest person will acknowledge, works along brahmanical lines.

Very often in a game, we are left with counters that seem to have no value. In such a case, we would need to transform the counter into something of greater value. The board-game of life seems to provide such options in certain cases. It is for this reason that Goan Catholics from the upper castes very often flash their belonging to Brahmin or Kshatriya categories when forging their careers or trying to make an impression in the former British-India. What they do is to transcend the peculiarity of being Catholic Brahmin or Chardo and find equivalence by casting their identity along pan-Indian lines.

But Portugal is not India, and while it may help to proclaim one’s upper caste status in India; what purpose does it serve in European Portugal? Proceeding purely on logic, it should serve only to make an oddity of oneself, sticking out like a sore thumb. And yet this student claims, we are told, this status constantly!

Trying to make sense of this puzzle, my mind flew back to a conversation I had had 2 years ago. Referring to Narana Coissoro, a significant Portuguese, a man of Goan descet; the lady I was in conversation with said “Ah Narana Coissoro! He’s a noble isn’t he? A Brahman from Goa”.

Speaking with a Portuguese anthropologist who studies Goa, I confirmed what I was beginning to suspect, the early Portuguese understanding of the Brahmin in Goa was to find equivalence for them in European aristrocracy and nobility. This reading was made possible through the fact that the Brahmin caste in the area around Goa was already in the early 1500’s a dominant caste group with substantial land holding. For the late medieval/ early modern European, control over the land translated into the fact of nobility.

Clearly then the counter of ‘brahmin’ that our friend keeps throwing about is not without some value even in Portugal. ‘Brahmin’ is used to signify social distinction, the fact of being a ‘noble’, a cut above the rest, of being special. Portugal’s long relationship with Goa has clearly then established certain rules in the game, rules that are understood particularly well by the elites there, through which counters in Goa, can be translated and made sense of in Portugal, allowing one to play the game with higher stakes there.

Having made sense of this situation, we can now begin to understand why the claims of expat Indians in non-metropolitan parts of the US make no sense to Anglo-Saxon residents of the US. ‘White’ friends from the US invariably indicate that their Indian friends never fail to point out that they are Brahmin, and confess that they have no idea what it means to be Brahmin. The counter that these upper-caste Indians are seeking to parade before to the others does not have any value without the shared historical bonds, and without out the value of the counter having been acknowledged by the larger collective of elites of the US. Ofcourse it does not stop these expats from continuing to claim their distinctive status back home, and it is possible that as India’s star as a potential ‘super-power’ continues to rise, there will emerge a way for this counter to make some sense in dispersed communities in the US too. The situation in Goa was markedly different though, the Brahmin (across religion) was for a long time a collaborator with the colonial power (indeed, this is a common understanding of the Brahmin in Portugal – the section of people with who they had intimate relations). This equation, specifically located in both time and space, allowed for the counter to continue to have significance in the Luso-Indian world.

An ancient coping mechanism when being in the realm of the unfamiliar is to domesticate it by comparing it to the familiar. The tables were turned on me when the unpleasantly familiar turned up rather innocuously in a Lisbon conversation. But perhaps the experience showed me more than the transnational character of caste, which operates as social capital. This episode also showed us how these two societies for all their differences, may in fact be joined in many more places that we often imagine.

(Published in the Gomantak Times, October 7th 2009)