A Goan Identity: Between a rock and a hard place

Read any tract that deals with the Goan identity, especially one that has to grapple with the Portuguese and Catholic elements in this identity and you will run up into a protest. Practically every author will take pains to point out that while the Goan is culturally influenced by the Portuguese, there was practically none of the famous Portuguese miscegenation in Goa. This is to say that the Goan remains by blood and genetics, a 100% ‘Indian’.

This statement could be seen as the necessary rhetoric by a minority group threatened by the Indian action that forcibly integrated Goa into the Indian Union. Indeed, such a statement today does a play a role in affirming the ‘Indian-ness’ of the Goan, by suggesting that unlike some kinds of Indian Muslims for example, these Goans do not come from ‘outside’, nor are they the descendants of ‘invaders’.

To stop at this explanation however, would ignore the much longer and complex history of this representation of what constitutes the Goan gene pool, for the fact is that these sorts of statements were being made much before the Indian Union ever came into existence. A good number of scholars love to point to the famous statement by Francisco Luis Gomes when he was an MP representing Goa in the Portuguese Parliament, where he claimed that he belonged to the land that crafted the famous Mahabhrarata. This statement is often given as an example of his nascent ‘Indian’ nationalism. This affirmation may unfortunately be somewhat misleading however since Luis Gomes was making this argument in an entirely different context, that the Goan people (and by this he meant the native elites) came from an ancient civilization, and being so civilized, did not particularly need a benevolent hand from Lisbon to run the territory, they could do so quite well themselves. When reading this argument today, we should not forget that this argument was made in a context where the ‘native elites’ (the Brahmins and the Chardos) were locked in a caste battle, not only with each other, but also against the local ‘Portuguese’ i.e. the Luso-descendents, who proudly claimed a Portuguese lineage. The history and presence of this group in Goa is largely erased, and when recalled they are remembered only as simpletons, or as cruel persons. Both these memories, it should be recognized, as memories ascribed by groups who were their opponents in a bitter fight for power over control of the territory.

Thus the peculiarly Goan affirmation of one’s pure blood and cultural mixture had a definite political context even in colonial times. It indicated that one was a member, and legitimate descendant of an ancient culture, while at the same time claiming the civilizing benefits of ‘Western’ culture. For the native elite at the time, it was a win-win argument.

This argument was far from the truth however, since there were marriages (and products outside of marriage as well) both among the native elites, as well as the non-elite classes. All these groups had relationships with people from metropolitan Portugal, from Africa, from China, and the claim to pure blood is largely a fiction that exists only because it serves a political purpose. Seen from a secular perspective however, this argument privileges caste superiority. It affirms a brahmanical model for the country and hence is an argument that as secularists we would do well to abandon. Indeed, it is possible for us to take this myth of sanguinary purity seriously, because we actually take the caste myth seriously in the first place, assuming that caste was in fact always a stable and rigid social formation, whose rules were always followed. A politically correct Goan identity therefore would not harp on blood purity, but amiably acknowledge the possibility of sanguinary admixture. How does it matter after all whether we are bearers of Lusitanian or Central Asian blood?

But life is never that simple is it? While living in Portugal, one is often met with delighted responses from metropolitan Portuguese who assume the Portuguese family-name that many Goans carry as a mark of Portuguese antecedents. There are a good number of metropolitan (or continental) Portuguese who are in love with the idea of their forefathers having traveled the world, leaving both a genetic and cultural presence there. While gratifying at an immediate level, these responses are simultaneously somewhat offensive. These responses are offensive because the embrace that it comes with is not based on the acceptance of difference, but because of a rejection of difference. Thus the embrace is warmer and longer if one is assumed to be the descendant of the traveling Portuguese of yore. A more sympathetic reading of Francisco Luis Gomes would admit that perhaps the good man and his compatriots were similarly fighting for a recognition of difference and the ability to self-govern, and unfortunately got dragged into the affirmation of caste for reasons that can be understood, but definitely not perpetuated today.

The politically correct Goan is faced with a pretty pickle as a result of this situation. When based in the subcontinent, political correctness demands that we affirm the possibilities of miscegenation. Not just with the Portuguese from the continent, but the Portuguese from Africa and other parts of the Portuguese empire, as well as with other groups across the world. When in continental Portugal however, one is faced with the need to refuse continental antecedents, primarily because one wishes to ensure that recognition of cultural brotherhood is based on the acceptance of cultural and sanguinary diversity. Also, we aren’t really in this game of rejecting a ‘pure’ South Asian lineage merely to wind up affirming some kind of cultural superiority of Western Europe. We are ‘Portuguese’ not because we have Lusitanian blood, or speak the Portuguese language, but also because we lived under the umbrella of Portuguese sovereignty, bound by bonds of politics and law, and now after all of this has passed, by an affective relationship that ties us to spaces beyond metropolitan Portugal, but places scattered around the world.

A contemporary and politically correct Goan identity, is one that is caught between a rock and a hard place. It would be appropriate to suggest that the construction of this Goan identity is akin to having one’s feet in two boats at the same time and having to jump from one boat to the other, constantly at the risk of falling into the perilous waters below. The point however is that in facing this admittedly tricky situation, we may in fact be working towards a situation in the future, when we ensure that both the Goan and other social groups, do not have to jump between boats or straddle worlds uncomfortably, but sit comfortable in one comfortable bark. The power of a Goan identity that is inclusive of the complex history of the territory is as yet unrealized, for it holds within it the power to alter the way we take for granted phrases that we today take for granted. Such exclusive phrases such as 'European'. To achieve this larger humanitarian end, our current discomfort would be well worth it.

(A version of this post was first published in the Gomantak Times 14 Sept 2011)

Save the Frog, Save Goa: Midweek notes on an unlikely cultural mascot

I am not normally one to fall prey or encourage the use of nationalistic slogans such as ‘Save Goa’. Which Goa I am tempted to ask? Save what? From whom? For whom? And yet when I heard of the ‘Save the Frog’ campaign, the formula above suggested itself to me as peculiarly appropriate.

What is so wonderful about Goa, is that within the larger context of India’s taboos and hyper-sensibilities, it very often offers mascots and symbols that elsewhere others shirk from. It is no doubt this relative freedom from social restrictions that makes Goa such a wonderful breath of fresh air in an otherwise stuffy sub-continent. The frog would be an unlikely mascot for any threatened culture, and yet peculiarly and thankfully, a concerted action in favour of this threatened amphibian would result in a possibly addressing a number of Goa’s contemporary material and ethical dilemmas.

One of the major threats that the frogs face is the destruction of their habitat, the fields, and hills of Goa. On the one hand the use of chemical pesticides and fertilizers in our fields works to slowly poison them. These poisons subsequently build up in those who eat frog meat, posing a serious long term health risk. More crucially however, the building over of these fields and hills, results in a sure destruction of these amphibian habitats. What impact this will have on the environment we cannot yet tell, and yet we can be sure of a significant negative ripple effect on our environment. Joining the ‘Save the Frog’ campaign would in this manner not only push us toward more sustainable and healthy agriculture, but also save the fields and hills that so many of us would hate to see gone.

The immediate action that we are encouraged toward this monsoon however is, to not eat frog legs (or jumping chicken) this season, and not hunt them. And yet when eating frog legs (like wild mushrooms) is part of the monsoon culture of Goa; how can this abstention from frog legs still be argued as an action in support of ‘saving’ Goan culture? The Save the Frog campaign offers us a peculiar option; by putting us in apparent, and possibly temporary conflict with a manifestation of Goan culture, it could actually allow us to save it in the long run.

To begin with, Goan ‘culture’ itself seems to have morphed. Whereas in earlier times bands of young men would head out in the dead of night to hunt bull-frogs (they wouldn’t touch a female of the species), this is not the case anymore. Frogs are being hunted indiscriminately. Secondly, while the hunting in former times met a domestic consumption, hunting these days, caters to a few restaurants that serve ‘jumping chicken’ despite a legal ban on its consumption. A commercialization of frog hunting has set in, that leaves frog populations doubly vulnerable. It would be logically and ethically incorrect therefore, to argue that consumption of frog legs alone is Goan culture. An integral part of that culture is the process and the ethics of that hunting. Disassociate the ethics and process of the hunt from the consumption, and we will only compromise the ability of future generations to engage in this very Goan monsoon event. A case of Goa today, Gone Tomorrow.

Recognizing the connection between the hunt and the consumption, would allow us to also recognize the connection between the material base and culture of Goans and the disappearance of Goan culture. While there is no doubt that there are more ‘non-Goans’ in the territory today, we will realize that the change in the material life of the Goan is itself leading to the disappearance and destruction of Goan culture. The authentic Goan is disappearing like Alice’s Cheshire Cat. But it seems that like the Cheshire Cat, the Goan is arranging his own disappearance and grinning while at it! If this cat is to not disappear, we need to either rethink our relationship to our material base, or accept that the symbols of Goan culture are going irrevocably change by our own hand.

The Bebo (frog) is a symbol of the average Goan. An earthy Goan, who goes on nocturnal frog hunts, swigging feni to warm himself from the cold of the rain. This is the Goan who also slogs in the fields to cultivate them, the Goan who slogs on board ships and in kitchens across the world. The Goan, who sweats and is connected in a very material way to the soil. It is not a symbol of those who merely eat the meat that others have hunted for them. These are merely consumers of a product, they could be Goan, Punjabi or British, and they could be anywhere, consuming any kind of exotic meat.

Our country’s ‘Project Tiger’ project tried to present the Tiger as the pinnacle of a natural pyramid. Conserve the Tiger and we would conserve the entire eco-system it argued. Unfortunately however, the Project pitted man against the Tiger. The ‘Save the Frog’ campaign however incorporates the Goan in every sense into its campaign. Saving the frog involves saving the lifestyles and landscapes that we recognize as an integral part of our being Goan. Lifestyle and landscape has been the core component of the Goan fitna that we have in the past months been both witness to and participant in. In addition, our abstention from frog meat today, would also allow the opportunity of frog meat for future generations of Goans.

Adopting the frog as our mascot opens up for us a world of pro-life politics and therefore the slogan; Save the Frog, Save Goa!

Abstain from frog meat this monsoon.

(First published in the Gomantak Times 27 May 2009)

(Carried in The Goan Review Vol. 20, No.4, July-August 2009, p. 49)