I had written this piece for the Gomantak a number of months ago, indicating the problems with the apparently innocent claim for the inclusion of the Konkani speaking portions of Karwar. This demand has now received support from the Konkani Ekikaran Manch (Konkani Unification Front) of Goa, restating the same old arguments I had dealt with in that early piece. As such, I think I could restate my case against this inclusion.
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“Imagine a situation where Goa has 13 talukas, hydroelectric and nuclear power projects, two major ports and an added coastline. This is not wishful thinking or an academic debate, but a social movement in operation for nearly 15 years.” This extract is from a report that appeared in the Herald a few days ago. A report informing us of the existence of a movement in Karnataka’s Karwar district which seeks to merge with Goa. The reasons they give are that they do not wish to exist as a part of Karnataka, since the Karnataka government has ignored the development of Karwar. Also, they argue that around 60% of the people of Karwar speak Konkani, and it is only natural that they should be part of a Konkani speaking State. Finally, there are religious links between the people of Karwar and Goa, with family deities on both sides of the current border.
The tenor of the report seemed to suggest that this movement was something that we should be glad for and welcome with open arms, since it would create a larger Goa with more economic opportunity and secondly it would buttress the claim of Konkani within Goa. However, I am not so sure that for these reasons we should automatically support this claim. On the contrary it is exactly this sort of a promise that we should be wary of since there is more than meets the eye in this case.
The mere support for Konkani does not translate into the support for what the Language Agitation and the struggle against merger with Maharashtra was all about. Both movements sought to protect a Goan identity and local concerns that were only superficially connected with the names we have given to these movements. What was the issue of merger with Maharashtra all about? On the one hand the Catholics very rightly did not want to get swamped in a Hindu Maharashtra, the Saraswats did not want to loose dominant status in a Maratha Maharashtra, and the Goan bahujan samaj wanted to escape Brahmin domination by creating an option in a Maratha Maharashtra. Similar the support for and against Konkani was on similar lines, the Catholics wished to secure their identity, and the pro-Marathi lobby by and large identified the Konkani movement with their greatest fear, Brahmin dominance in Goa.
Perhaps the Bahujan samaj in Goa were the most far-sighted of us all who saw in the pro-Konkani movement, the contours of a design to ensure Brahmanical and Hindutva dominance. The Catholics woke up a little late in the day and realized that in supporting Konkani without securing the protection of the script that guarantees their uniqueness, they laid the foundations for their own demise from cultural and political life.
To put things in context now, let us recollect that it was in Karwar, in 1939 that a decision was taken to recognize Devnagari as the natural – and hence only- script for Konkani. A reading of Indian history will point us toward the fact the recognition of Devanagari as the natural Indian script was the tool used by Hindu right wing groups to cast India as essentially Hindu. This recognition refuses to recognize the multiple strands that have played their part in constituting India, and delegitimizes them. Similar to the manner in which Romi, the only script that supports a living and vibrant Konkani, is currently being delegitimized. That the mention of family deities comes up when there is talk of incorporating Karwar into Goa should instantly alert us to the fact that the argument is also playing to a Hindutva lobby which would seek to create a Goa on the basis of religious markers.
We need to develop a politically savvy understanding of what exactly is afoot here. The mere reference to Konkani and a greater Goa does not work to the advantage of Goa, Konkani or the communities that speak Konkani or live in Goa. Let us once again refer to modern Indian history to understand that what appears to be progressive may in fact not be so. Rightist forces have always managed to secure their agenda by riding piggy back on overtly secular and progressive agendas. Until the 80’s the women’s movement protesting obscenity found support from the BJP, until the Fire episode when it realized that what the BJP was supporting was the suppression of female sexuality in the name of Indian values. Similarly the women’s movement did not realize that the BJP’s support for a Uniform Civil Code was not their pro-women stance, but an anti-Muslim stance.
Currently as the protagonists of the Romi script seek to secure allies, there seems to be opposition to recognize the claim of Marathi as an official language in Goa. We need to figure out where this demand for Marathi is coming from. It is the demand of a minority that fears domination. A fear similar to what the protagonists of Romi experience. They seek recognition of Marathi in its Goan form, and as a Goan language, as an alternative to the brahmanical hegemony that will persecute both Catholics and the Bahujan samaj. The threat of Maharashtra is now dead. A new threat has emerged now, the threat of a brahmanical Hindutva, and it seeks to use Konkani and the idea of a larger Goa to get its way. We need to realize this. The addition of Karwar to Goa is not in Goa or Konkani’s larger interests. On the contrary, acknowledging Marathi as a Goan language may do more to further the interests of Goans in Goa. But more about this some other time…
Monday, July 9, 2007
Wednesday, June 20, 2007
O Zé Faz Falta: Of Diaspora, Memories and Needs
Last weekend saw me in Lisbon at the Convention of the Goan Dispora organised by the Casa de Goa from the 14th to the 17th of June. It was for me, as with others present at the Convention, a wholly moving experience. The spirit of the days was perhaps best captured when at the party at the end of the Convention when the group broke into song creating the atmosphere of a family gathering. Not everyone knew all the songs that were being sung, some in Portuguese, some in English, some in Konkani, but it was nevertheless enjoyed by all. To me this was an indication of how the diaspora need not move toward a single, unbroken identity. There is no need for a single language, a common culture, a necessary history with a common geographical space. What a diaspora, and its meetings can be- and perhaps ought to be- is the opportunity for dialogue for people who share some connections and would like to build on them.
Indeed, this understanding of why a disapora meets could be the safest option for a diasporic community and gathering in the face of the problems it could possible raise. Despite the nature of the experience at the Convention, I still stand wary of the word diaspora and its politics. The word is too strongly associated with the formation of Israel and its racist and inhuman Zionist politics. One has only to realise that a large part of the growth in saffron right-wing politics in India is due to the interventions of the Indian diaspora in North America and the U.K. We should hate to see that in Goa. And yet the growth in the Goan diaspora’s interest in Goa has all the makings of this danger. Perhaps not yet saffron right-wing, but right leaning nevertheless. There is located in diaspora politics the same urges that motivated colonialism. “We, who live outside, know better and can show you the route”. And while there is no problem in learning, one has to contest the idea that it is the diaspora alone that can teach and have nothing to learn. We need to recognise that the ideas of the diaspora are often born in imagination and longing, and situations on the ground move to a different reality. One that is located in the daily lives of the people who live there.
The voice of the diaspora often pretends to be the voice of the authentic. “Just because we have left, it does not mean we are not Goan”. Indeed not. To argue so would be petty. However we have to recognise that while they may be Goan, they are not authentic. They represent a certain economic class and speak by-and- large for the interest of that class. It is not surprising that the Chief Secretary of the State highlighted the interest the Government was taking to protect the properties in Goa of the diaspora. What diaspora politics possibly represents therefore is the propertied gaining access to the ear of the Government. And while this is not necessarily undesirable, what is terrifying is that interests towards consolidation of property, away from the distributive ethic that ought to motivate our state, may be the only voice the State chooses to hear. It is this choice that the State exercises that perhaps it would do well for diaspora organisers to take cognizance of. For while the State is listening to those who would exercise a developmental role now, as it seeks to cultivate a new source of legitimacy, things may not always continue to be so hunky dory. We are aware of the power of the right, and the saffron right, to take over platforms created with good intentions. It would be a shame if a platform that seeks to redress problems in Goa goes to buttress rightist policies by a Government so inclined to listen.
It is to avoid these and other problems inherent in the nature of diaspora politics that it would be ideal to cultivate the idea of diasporic engagement as a dialogue. This idea was put best when it was suggested – recognising the continuing presence of caste and other markers in Goan communities abroad- that it is not necessary to have a single Goan organisation in an area, as long as these multiple groups can work together. There couldn’t be a better way to allow for diasporic engagement to allow for the flowering of multiple identities and diversity, an option that gets destroyed when we attempt to box ourselves according to the narrow identities of a political entity like the state of Goa.
Indeed, this understanding of why a disapora meets could be the safest option for a diasporic community and gathering in the face of the problems it could possible raise. Despite the nature of the experience at the Convention, I still stand wary of the word diaspora and its politics. The word is too strongly associated with the formation of Israel and its racist and inhuman Zionist politics. One has only to realise that a large part of the growth in saffron right-wing politics in India is due to the interventions of the Indian diaspora in North America and the U.K. We should hate to see that in Goa. And yet the growth in the Goan diaspora’s interest in Goa has all the makings of this danger. Perhaps not yet saffron right-wing, but right leaning nevertheless. There is located in diaspora politics the same urges that motivated colonialism. “We, who live outside, know better and can show you the route”. And while there is no problem in learning, one has to contest the idea that it is the diaspora alone that can teach and have nothing to learn. We need to recognise that the ideas of the diaspora are often born in imagination and longing, and situations on the ground move to a different reality. One that is located in the daily lives of the people who live there.
The voice of the diaspora often pretends to be the voice of the authentic. “Just because we have left, it does not mean we are not Goan”. Indeed not. To argue so would be petty. However we have to recognise that while they may be Goan, they are not authentic. They represent a certain economic class and speak by-and- large for the interest of that class. It is not surprising that the Chief Secretary of the State highlighted the interest the Government was taking to protect the properties in Goa of the diaspora. What diaspora politics possibly represents therefore is the propertied gaining access to the ear of the Government. And while this is not necessarily undesirable, what is terrifying is that interests towards consolidation of property, away from the distributive ethic that ought to motivate our state, may be the only voice the State chooses to hear. It is this choice that the State exercises that perhaps it would do well for diaspora organisers to take cognizance of. For while the State is listening to those who would exercise a developmental role now, as it seeks to cultivate a new source of legitimacy, things may not always continue to be so hunky dory. We are aware of the power of the right, and the saffron right, to take over platforms created with good intentions. It would be a shame if a platform that seeks to redress problems in Goa goes to buttress rightist policies by a Government so inclined to listen.
It is to avoid these and other problems inherent in the nature of diaspora politics that it would be ideal to cultivate the idea of diasporic engagement as a dialogue. This idea was put best when it was suggested – recognising the continuing presence of caste and other markers in Goan communities abroad- that it is not necessary to have a single Goan organisation in an area, as long as these multiple groups can work together. There couldn’t be a better way to allow for diasporic engagement to allow for the flowering of multiple identities and diversity, an option that gets destroyed when we attempt to box ourselves according to the narrow identities of a political entity like the state of Goa.
Wednesday, June 6, 2007
No Saudades in Portugal: Reflecting on Monumentalism
The time between this column and my last has seen me move continents so that I find myself writing this column from a location within the University of Coimbra. I could begin this recounting of experiences in this medieval capital of Portugal by commenting on the sudden feelings of déjà vu, as I look outside to see a familiar hill-side, building and what have you. I will however resist falling into the easy embrace of a seductive but superficial saudades and focus my energies elsewhere.
My preferred manner of experiencing a city is to use it, encounter it like a local, and yet at times one feels obliged to go looking for the notable sights in the town. Searching for the famed Sé Novo (New Cathedral) of the town I headed in the direction of the tall domed building I could see from my office window. I could see that it was surrounded by a high crenulated wall and suggested the location of an ancient religious structure within the medieval walls. I made my way in the afternoon sun, following the wall for an entry into the complex only to realise that the building was in fact the prison for the region of Coimbra. Now what do you think of that, A prison right in the heart of town! I can’t as yet figure out if it is some cruel and perverse humour that selected a site close to the happy voices and moments of the town, or a laudable attempt at social integration that locates a prison within the bounds of ‘normal’ society indicating that the inmates within are regular people who have only fallen temporarily from the graces of a whimsical society. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. I am given to believe that the location of the prison within the town is a matter of much public debate, even while prisoners sometimes have conversations with those who live on the other side of the prison walls. I tell you no lies!
The prison building offers much food for thought though with its central tower that looks like copy of the dome of the Cathedral of Florence, the ecclesiastical suggestion of which made me amble my way toward it in the first place. More than an ecclesiastical suggestion however is the disciplinary one it makes as it rises above arms that project from it. The structure of the building conjures up the image of Bentham’s panoptican. Bentham the famed positivist jurist conceptualised the panoption as a ring-shaped building that housed at its centre an inspection tower. The periphery of the building consisted of cells, each of which was meant to hold an individual prisoner. The design of the building was such that the inspector could always view the prisoner, an option never open to the prisoner. This vision of total control over people, the French thinker Foucault would suggest many years later was instituted into modern society, where our every movement and idea is under surveillance.
Portugal has had its share of totalitarian control, a power it has done away with and just refuses to talk about. And yet as one lingers in the University square one senses the heavy weight of the past with the stern, square and muscular statues that adorn the sides of building built in the time of the Estado Novo, the regime inaugurated by Salazar. I jest you not when I recount that as I shivered involuntarily when I encountered those statues, as visions of banner carrying and goose stepping soldiers came to mind. While the fancy images can be traced to an overdose of Hollywood, the blatant monumentality of these buildings is a throw back to a time, when not only in Portugal, but all over Europe, and the mini-Europes around the world, edifices were raised to commemorate and instruct the people about the absolute power of the State.
Buildings and edifices are not simply structures with a purely utilitarian intentions, no matter what old father Bentham would have liked. They are clear indicators of the predilections of society at the point of time, the ambitions, egos and power of the commissioners of buildings. Buildings of imperial dimensions more often than not tell us stories of oppression if we are willing to look beyond the façade. The dams we choose to build, the statues we erect, even the circle marking the entry into Panjim from Old Goa inaugurated during Parrikar’s earlier regime, they all tell us something about the society we would like to see. Question is, are we reading the signs of the times, or merely taking these at face value?
My preferred manner of experiencing a city is to use it, encounter it like a local, and yet at times one feels obliged to go looking for the notable sights in the town. Searching for the famed Sé Novo (New Cathedral) of the town I headed in the direction of the tall domed building I could see from my office window. I could see that it was surrounded by a high crenulated wall and suggested the location of an ancient religious structure within the medieval walls. I made my way in the afternoon sun, following the wall for an entry into the complex only to realise that the building was in fact the prison for the region of Coimbra. Now what do you think of that, A prison right in the heart of town! I can’t as yet figure out if it is some cruel and perverse humour that selected a site close to the happy voices and moments of the town, or a laudable attempt at social integration that locates a prison within the bounds of ‘normal’ society indicating that the inmates within are regular people who have only fallen temporarily from the graces of a whimsical society. Perhaps it’s a bit of both. I am given to believe that the location of the prison within the town is a matter of much public debate, even while prisoners sometimes have conversations with those who live on the other side of the prison walls. I tell you no lies!
The prison building offers much food for thought though with its central tower that looks like copy of the dome of the Cathedral of Florence, the ecclesiastical suggestion of which made me amble my way toward it in the first place. More than an ecclesiastical suggestion however is the disciplinary one it makes as it rises above arms that project from it. The structure of the building conjures up the image of Bentham’s panoptican. Bentham the famed positivist jurist conceptualised the panoption as a ring-shaped building that housed at its centre an inspection tower. The periphery of the building consisted of cells, each of which was meant to hold an individual prisoner. The design of the building was such that the inspector could always view the prisoner, an option never open to the prisoner. This vision of total control over people, the French thinker Foucault would suggest many years later was instituted into modern society, where our every movement and idea is under surveillance.
Portugal has had its share of totalitarian control, a power it has done away with and just refuses to talk about. And yet as one lingers in the University square one senses the heavy weight of the past with the stern, square and muscular statues that adorn the sides of building built in the time of the Estado Novo, the regime inaugurated by Salazar. I jest you not when I recount that as I shivered involuntarily when I encountered those statues, as visions of banner carrying and goose stepping soldiers came to mind. While the fancy images can be traced to an overdose of Hollywood, the blatant monumentality of these buildings is a throw back to a time, when not only in Portugal, but all over Europe, and the mini-Europes around the world, edifices were raised to commemorate and instruct the people about the absolute power of the State.
Buildings and edifices are not simply structures with a purely utilitarian intentions, no matter what old father Bentham would have liked. They are clear indicators of the predilections of society at the point of time, the ambitions, egos and power of the commissioners of buildings. Buildings of imperial dimensions more often than not tell us stories of oppression if we are willing to look beyond the façade. The dams we choose to build, the statues we erect, even the circle marking the entry into Panjim from Old Goa inaugurated during Parrikar’s earlier regime, they all tell us something about the society we would like to see. Question is, are we reading the signs of the times, or merely taking these at face value?
(published in the Gomantak Times 7th June 2007)
Thinking About The Invalid Vote: Generating Electoral Options
Another assembly election, another round of lies, filth, hopes and furious sloganeering- both by political parties and well-meaning citizens urging for voting for change. The question is though is change possible through the assembly level elections? Can we really change the system through the simple act of casting our vote? I’m not so sure, but I wouldn’t want to play spoil sport either. A good Foucaldian and a one-time Gandhian I firmly believe in the possibility of the individual and the capacity of individual physical acts of resistance.
While a student at the National Law School, the annual convocation at the university brought the former President of India, R. Venkataraman to deliver a lecture to the guests assembled at the Convocation. Hot and tired, I nevertheless perked up when he uttered the magic words “Invalid vote”. Unable to locate the text of his address, I will not attribute what I am about to suggest as electoral strategy to the late President but definitely credit him as inspiration. What I believe he suggested was that the invalid vote could be an important instrument to indicate to the political establishment in our states and country that we disapprove of the candidates standing for election and see no valid choice being offered to us. Contemplating what I heard that morning many years ago, I believe that Goa is a perfect location to try it out as electoral strategy. We have no real choice in Goa, the corrupt and the communal being located in every single candidate that is standing for election.
The option for the invalid vote is not one however that we can exercise at an individual level alone. I believe that this option while exercised individually must necessarily accompany a mass movement, such that the political establishment faced with a growing count of invalid votes must take heed that they face an electorate that is determined to literally throw a spanner in the works, and blackmail radical change into place. Allow me to illustrate the power of the invalid vote with another anecdote from the history of the National Law School. Refused direct elections by the founder-Director of the Law school and Faculty, after years of petitioning, matters eventually came to a head. The student body called for a General Body Meeting indicating to the members of the Electoral College (one composed of students selected by faculty to administrative committees) that if they were in fact representing the will of the students in this indirect election of President, then they would not vote that particular year. Later that evening the university made history and jammed the system when the student representatives refused to vote for a President. The Law school remained without a President for a year, but at the end of it, they had a new Constitution that provided for direct elections of a President from among the student body.
A state is not the small institution that the National Law School is, but I believe that the option of the invalid vote exercised by a vocal population allows for us to send a similar message and frustrate the operation of a corrupt and unresponsive political establishment. A growing and substantial population that chooses the invalid vote would similarly disrupt the operation of the political system in a state at most and increasingly refuse legitimacy at least. I see this as a possible option for Goa primarily because we are a small state facing by and large a similar crisis, whether it is in the coastal districts being bought up for leisure consumption, or the internal districts being mined out without respect for local livelihoods. Further a move to popularize the invalid vote necessarily requires a larger civil society movement, one that is not restricted to movements that emerge in moments of crisis and dissipate subsequently. In the eventual event that we should succeed in such a movement, what we would have is a growing focus on the village panchayat, an official space whose powers, at least on paper are growing. The Panchayat allows us an ideal forum where our voices are heard, and our frustrations necessarily dealt with by the elected officials – they don’t enjoy X, Y, Z security you see? Eventually I believe that if the political establishment is to change, it is through change where greater powers are effectively realized at the village level, allowing for a dialogical state, rather than the unresponsive behemoth we are forced to tango with.
We cannot however be blind to the fact that our exercise of the invalid vote would allow a goon to step into power. My response to this argument would be to point out that as of now we don’t really have a real option. There is no difference between the corrupt, the criminal and the communal. In the indirect democracy characterized by a dishonest and unresponsive leadership, I believe that the movement of the invalid vote is a genuine possibility, and one we need to actively explore and employ. Takers anyone? The revolution really begins with the power of ONE.
While a student at the National Law School, the annual convocation at the university brought the former President of India, R. Venkataraman to deliver a lecture to the guests assembled at the Convocation. Hot and tired, I nevertheless perked up when he uttered the magic words “Invalid vote”. Unable to locate the text of his address, I will not attribute what I am about to suggest as electoral strategy to the late President but definitely credit him as inspiration. What I believe he suggested was that the invalid vote could be an important instrument to indicate to the political establishment in our states and country that we disapprove of the candidates standing for election and see no valid choice being offered to us. Contemplating what I heard that morning many years ago, I believe that Goa is a perfect location to try it out as electoral strategy. We have no real choice in Goa, the corrupt and the communal being located in every single candidate that is standing for election.
The option for the invalid vote is not one however that we can exercise at an individual level alone. I believe that this option while exercised individually must necessarily accompany a mass movement, such that the political establishment faced with a growing count of invalid votes must take heed that they face an electorate that is determined to literally throw a spanner in the works, and blackmail radical change into place. Allow me to illustrate the power of the invalid vote with another anecdote from the history of the National Law School. Refused direct elections by the founder-Director of the Law school and Faculty, after years of petitioning, matters eventually came to a head. The student body called for a General Body Meeting indicating to the members of the Electoral College (one composed of students selected by faculty to administrative committees) that if they were in fact representing the will of the students in this indirect election of President, then they would not vote that particular year. Later that evening the university made history and jammed the system when the student representatives refused to vote for a President. The Law school remained without a President for a year, but at the end of it, they had a new Constitution that provided for direct elections of a President from among the student body.
A state is not the small institution that the National Law School is, but I believe that the option of the invalid vote exercised by a vocal population allows for us to send a similar message and frustrate the operation of a corrupt and unresponsive political establishment. A growing and substantial population that chooses the invalid vote would similarly disrupt the operation of the political system in a state at most and increasingly refuse legitimacy at least. I see this as a possible option for Goa primarily because we are a small state facing by and large a similar crisis, whether it is in the coastal districts being bought up for leisure consumption, or the internal districts being mined out without respect for local livelihoods. Further a move to popularize the invalid vote necessarily requires a larger civil society movement, one that is not restricted to movements that emerge in moments of crisis and dissipate subsequently. In the eventual event that we should succeed in such a movement, what we would have is a growing focus on the village panchayat, an official space whose powers, at least on paper are growing. The Panchayat allows us an ideal forum where our voices are heard, and our frustrations necessarily dealt with by the elected officials – they don’t enjoy X, Y, Z security you see? Eventually I believe that if the political establishment is to change, it is through change where greater powers are effectively realized at the village level, allowing for a dialogical state, rather than the unresponsive behemoth we are forced to tango with.
We cannot however be blind to the fact that our exercise of the invalid vote would allow a goon to step into power. My response to this argument would be to point out that as of now we don’t really have a real option. There is no difference between the corrupt, the criminal and the communal. In the indirect democracy characterized by a dishonest and unresponsive leadership, I believe that the movement of the invalid vote is a genuine possibility, and one we need to actively explore and employ. Takers anyone? The revolution really begins with the power of ONE.
(published in the Gomantak Times 31 May 2007)
Friday, May 4, 2007
Random Musings- Rethinking Nationalism
Attaining adulthood within the confines of an institution with a strong and vocal liberal arts community, I learned my lessons well. Nationalism was not a good word but a problematic one. It was problematic because its act of creating a national patriotic community, necessarily required the creation of an alien and enemy. To be Indian, you had to have a Pakistani to validate your existence and give a meaning to your identity. The national project does not limit itself to creating external outsiders though. The national project invariably in the hands of a dominant group within society identifies a definite agenda and then commits the rest of the population, with or without their consent to this project. Opposition to this project, even if it be on valid grounds of the destruction of your bases for leading a basic human existence brands you anti-national. And so we have the dam building and other developmental projects in India and the branding of groups that oppose them. Further the national project also needs to create a national community, and similarly identifies the cultural markers of the national citizen. It does not matter if the identified culture is something you don’t identify with, or following it would destroy your own culture. Comply with it you must, or face the wrath of the angered nation-state. And therefore you have the suffocation of Urdu, of Romi Konkani, the murdering of Muslims and the persecution of tribals.
For those of us committed to a utopian ideal, of fraternity, equity and equality therefore, recourse to any rhetoric that even vaguely invokes nationalist sentiments is a strict no-no. For we know, from such places as India, Pakistan, the Balkans and other parts of Europe, the violence and bloodshed that necessarily accompanies the appeal to nationalistic sentiments.
It is for this reason that I faced a moral dilemma when contemplating the calls of the Goa Bachao Abhiyan. The Save Goa Movement was validly concerned with the destruction of the Goan environment and the livelihoods connected with this environment. This was a worthy and an important cause to support. And yet, all too often the call to ‘Save Goa’ was heavily couched in the resentment of and toward the ‘outsiders’. And this was not a lone phenomena but one that recurs frequently in a variety of places- be it the call to open up the GMC for public use, the protection of khazans, the building over of fields. As valid as the environmental cause may be, how can one support the nationalist project implicit in it? And how does one deal with this unholy twining of liberatory and exclusionary ideologies?
It was in this context that the words of Aijaz Ahmad proved useful. For the population of the “backward zones of capital” he argues “all relationships with imperialism pass through their own nation states, and there is simply no way of breaking out of that imperial dominance without struggling for different kinds of national projects and for a revolutionary restructuring of one’s own nation-state”. Ahmad then suggests to earnest students like me who have learned their lessons well, that nationalism while a deeply problematic ideology is the reality within which we live our lives. But this is not necessarily an argument to remain with the nation-state. On the contrary Ahmad’s formulation shows us a possible way out of the dilemma. The way out requires our recognition of our location as a ‘backward zone of capital’. A zone that by and large is constituted not by the owners of capital, but a zone that is one of speculation for persons not ordinarily resident in this zone or emotionally invested in it - in other words the wielders of imperial power. It may be difficult for now to think of ourselves as ‘beyond the nation’, but this does not preclude us from identifying the problem as one of the operation of capital within a space (the nation-state) that ostensibly portrays itself as for the protector of the people. My problem with politics in Goa, is that while it constantly identifies a host of appropriate issues to battle, there is by and large a failure to locate its existence in the operation of capital. This holds true for the heritage movement, the language(s) movement, the environmental movement or the cultural movement. To understand the operation of capital within the backward zone of capital that is Goa is not difficult and often recognized conversationally. And yet we fail to raise this intuition (most of the time deliberately I suspect) to a central place in our agendas for change allowing for nationalist rhetoric to gain a firm foothold within our state
Given that our immediate goal is to restructure the nation-state in favour of those people who thanks to their control of capital currently maneuver the state outside of the legitimate democratic space, it seems unlikely that our reliance on nationalist rhetoric will miraculously subside. However, the conscious articulation of relations of capital within this state in the public sphere would without doubt reformulate agendas, moving it away from the current Goenkarponn obsessions that in fact serve only to further divide us and separate us from the humanity we are in fact fighting for.
For those of us committed to a utopian ideal, of fraternity, equity and equality therefore, recourse to any rhetoric that even vaguely invokes nationalist sentiments is a strict no-no. For we know, from such places as India, Pakistan, the Balkans and other parts of Europe, the violence and bloodshed that necessarily accompanies the appeal to nationalistic sentiments.
It is for this reason that I faced a moral dilemma when contemplating the calls of the Goa Bachao Abhiyan. The Save Goa Movement was validly concerned with the destruction of the Goan environment and the livelihoods connected with this environment. This was a worthy and an important cause to support. And yet, all too often the call to ‘Save Goa’ was heavily couched in the resentment of and toward the ‘outsiders’. And this was not a lone phenomena but one that recurs frequently in a variety of places- be it the call to open up the GMC for public use, the protection of khazans, the building over of fields. As valid as the environmental cause may be, how can one support the nationalist project implicit in it? And how does one deal with this unholy twining of liberatory and exclusionary ideologies?
It was in this context that the words of Aijaz Ahmad proved useful. For the population of the “backward zones of capital” he argues “all relationships with imperialism pass through their own nation states, and there is simply no way of breaking out of that imperial dominance without struggling for different kinds of national projects and for a revolutionary restructuring of one’s own nation-state”. Ahmad then suggests to earnest students like me who have learned their lessons well, that nationalism while a deeply problematic ideology is the reality within which we live our lives. But this is not necessarily an argument to remain with the nation-state. On the contrary Ahmad’s formulation shows us a possible way out of the dilemma. The way out requires our recognition of our location as a ‘backward zone of capital’. A zone that by and large is constituted not by the owners of capital, but a zone that is one of speculation for persons not ordinarily resident in this zone or emotionally invested in it - in other words the wielders of imperial power. It may be difficult for now to think of ourselves as ‘beyond the nation’, but this does not preclude us from identifying the problem as one of the operation of capital within a space (the nation-state) that ostensibly portrays itself as for the protector of the people. My problem with politics in Goa, is that while it constantly identifies a host of appropriate issues to battle, there is by and large a failure to locate its existence in the operation of capital. This holds true for the heritage movement, the language(s) movement, the environmental movement or the cultural movement. To understand the operation of capital within the backward zone of capital that is Goa is not difficult and often recognized conversationally. And yet we fail to raise this intuition (most of the time deliberately I suspect) to a central place in our agendas for change allowing for nationalist rhetoric to gain a firm foothold within our state
Given that our immediate goal is to restructure the nation-state in favour of those people who thanks to their control of capital currently maneuver the state outside of the legitimate democratic space, it seems unlikely that our reliance on nationalist rhetoric will miraculously subside. However, the conscious articulation of relations of capital within this state in the public sphere would without doubt reformulate agendas, moving it away from the current Goenkarponn obsessions that in fact serve only to further divide us and separate us from the humanity we are in fact fighting for.
(Published in the Gomantak Times, 2nd May 2007)
Thursday, April 19, 2007
The Feast of the Three Wise Men: A Frustrated Discourse on Participation
Since the past fortnight three events have occurred that beg us to contemplate the space of participation in our democracy. The first to be honest is almost a joke. Manohar Parrikar has been attempting to rile up the citizenry over the old GMC buildings conversion into a mall, claiming that this decision was reached without people’s participation. Now this is truly the case of the pot calling the kettle black! This entire scheme of turning the building into a mall was first floated in Parrikar’s time. And we know for a fact that neither participation nor consultation was the trademark of that administration. Why his own colleagues would grumble about the how entirely redundant they felt! Mr. Parrikar obviously believes that the Goan public is a bunch of performing monkeys. He has only to pull the right phrase out of his bag, and they’ll start dancing to the appropriate tune.
But this is not a new trick our man pulls out of his hat, the Indian public has been confronted with this duplicity for years now. Only this time round we can dare to hope that years of experience have translated into a certain kind of political maturity. Which is why in previous agitations in the course of the current Government’s term, public activists have firmly maintained that they would not like their movement to be co-opted publicly by any political party. They may have not got it right, but the attempt is on, and it is a worthwhile effort. And yet, it does not guarantee us that we will not be pawns in a political game to get power, in this case howl down the Rane Government to let Parrikar take over.
What would guarantee us our role as independent actors in the political game is when calls such as that of participation in governance and associated decision making turn from calls to established procedures. Procedures enshrined in legislation and those from which there is no getting around.
I doubt this is what he had in mind, but it’d be cute if these were in fact the thoughts in Chief Secretary Singh’s mind when he spake the other day at Annual Day of the Goa chapter of the Confederation of Indian Industry. Chief Secretary Singh believes that we in Goa suffer from is- if you’re standing up you need to sit down now - overparticipation! This over-participation, our Chief Jeremiah somberly predicted could prove to be a handicap to Goa’s development. Fact is though there isn’t enough participation in decision-making in Goa. If the constant ruckus in Goa is anything to go by it is an illustration of the consistent failure to consult the people and following this consultation to respect the verdict of the people. Sunita Narain writing in the Down To Earth Magazine on the 10th of April indicates the manner in which despite people’s clear rejection of continued and increased mining, the Union Ministry continues to clear increased mining in Goa. So much for participation.
Mr. Singh would like to see an end to the constant deliberations that occur in Goa, and frankly Mr. Singh, so would we. However, we would like to see these deliberations end when the rules of the game are followed. We would like to see a host of public decision making enshrined in legislation for all levels of governance, and we would like to see it respected. What Goa suffers from is not over-participation, but a people seething in anger from not being invited to participate meaningfully.
And finally we have the third event that got me thinking on the value of participation. This was the editorial response of the Navhind Times to Mr. Singh’s concern. In what smacks strongly of an apologia for authoritarianism, the editorial used Mr. Singh’s address to the Confederation of Indian industry to deride the work being done by a host of NGOs in Goa. The NGO’s are blamed for not charting out a program for sustainable development in Goa, for not walking to airports, for using airports in the first place! The editorial betrays not a reasoned concern for the condition of the NGO sector in India but uses the space created by the Chief Secretary to devalue the very act of opposition. One is not always impressed by conservationists’ arguments, but what we have to recognize is the value in that opposition which allows us to refine public policies and decisions. There seems none of it in this editorial which seems to privilege only charity as a valid form of NGO activity.
It would be fair to say that participation in Goa occurs in opposition to Governmental policy since all too often this participation is prevented and seen as the interference of those who do not know. True there is a need for an end to deliberation in a deliberative democracy, but the million dollar question would then be who puts an end to it? A Government constantly acting in favour of private capital, or a Government acting in favour of public interest?
But this is not a new trick our man pulls out of his hat, the Indian public has been confronted with this duplicity for years now. Only this time round we can dare to hope that years of experience have translated into a certain kind of political maturity. Which is why in previous agitations in the course of the current Government’s term, public activists have firmly maintained that they would not like their movement to be co-opted publicly by any political party. They may have not got it right, but the attempt is on, and it is a worthwhile effort. And yet, it does not guarantee us that we will not be pawns in a political game to get power, in this case howl down the Rane Government to let Parrikar take over.
What would guarantee us our role as independent actors in the political game is when calls such as that of participation in governance and associated decision making turn from calls to established procedures. Procedures enshrined in legislation and those from which there is no getting around.
I doubt this is what he had in mind, but it’d be cute if these were in fact the thoughts in Chief Secretary Singh’s mind when he spake the other day at Annual Day of the Goa chapter of the Confederation of Indian Industry. Chief Secretary Singh believes that we in Goa suffer from is- if you’re standing up you need to sit down now - overparticipation! This over-participation, our Chief Jeremiah somberly predicted could prove to be a handicap to Goa’s development. Fact is though there isn’t enough participation in decision-making in Goa. If the constant ruckus in Goa is anything to go by it is an illustration of the consistent failure to consult the people and following this consultation to respect the verdict of the people. Sunita Narain writing in the Down To Earth Magazine on the 10th of April indicates the manner in which despite people’s clear rejection of continued and increased mining, the Union Ministry continues to clear increased mining in Goa. So much for participation.
Mr. Singh would like to see an end to the constant deliberations that occur in Goa, and frankly Mr. Singh, so would we. However, we would like to see these deliberations end when the rules of the game are followed. We would like to see a host of public decision making enshrined in legislation for all levels of governance, and we would like to see it respected. What Goa suffers from is not over-participation, but a people seething in anger from not being invited to participate meaningfully.
And finally we have the third event that got me thinking on the value of participation. This was the editorial response of the Navhind Times to Mr. Singh’s concern. In what smacks strongly of an apologia for authoritarianism, the editorial used Mr. Singh’s address to the Confederation of Indian industry to deride the work being done by a host of NGOs in Goa. The NGO’s are blamed for not charting out a program for sustainable development in Goa, for not walking to airports, for using airports in the first place! The editorial betrays not a reasoned concern for the condition of the NGO sector in India but uses the space created by the Chief Secretary to devalue the very act of opposition. One is not always impressed by conservationists’ arguments, but what we have to recognize is the value in that opposition which allows us to refine public policies and decisions. There seems none of it in this editorial which seems to privilege only charity as a valid form of NGO activity.
It would be fair to say that participation in Goa occurs in opposition to Governmental policy since all too often this participation is prevented and seen as the interference of those who do not know. True there is a need for an end to deliberation in a deliberative democracy, but the million dollar question would then be who puts an end to it? A Government constantly acting in favour of private capital, or a Government acting in favour of public interest?
Thursday, April 5, 2007
Reclaiming Public Space and Building a Contemporary Culture
I had presumed that it was like most of the rumours floating in the air; this story that the old Medical College building was going to be converted to a mall. Unfortunately like most of those other bizarre rumours floating around in Goa, this too turned out to be horrifically true. The building is going to be converted into a mall! Horror of horrors! “Ofcourse” commented a friend, who would have liked to see the building remain a public space, “our politicians know only malls”. True and yet not true. Our politicians are merely reading the signs of the times, succumbing to a trend that is sweeping all of society, and not only in newly consumerist India. Worldwide we are witness to a change in the nature of public spaces as they get interiorized and privatized. Thus while the earlier era was about the public parks, promenades and buildings open to all, we today see a trend to create ‘public spaces’ within malls and private club-houses, locking out the undesirables and open only to the paying public. In such a situation it is not strange that our politicians seek to create a mall in the building of the Escola Medica, or convert vast open areas into an IT Park rather than a natural park for a growing and choking city. While it is not strange, it is sad however that they have once again created a private asset committed to perpetuating differences, rather than the public assets and wealth they are expected to commit themselves to.
And while this conversion of a public building into a mall may correspond to a negative global trend, there is also at play a local dynamic. We in Goa seem entirely bereft when it comes to knowing what to do with our public buildings. We either convert them to hotels or convert them to museums. On both fronts we think not of ourselves, but of how groups other than ourselves can use these buildings (and our resources and selves consequently). One could argue that the museum serves to educate the local as well as the visitor, but take a look around you at the many museums we have. You visit them once and you can safely never visit it again, since there is going to be no substantial addition to the collection. With culture being identified only with the past, there is no investment in the museum as a space where the local can constantly engage with the cultural world and the creations emanating from it. In that sense then, the State did the most appropriate thing in converting the building of the Escola Medica into a mall. It couldn’t be converted into a hotel, that would be too crude, and if turned into a museum what would we do with the old Secretariat? So we seek the middle ground and convert it into a mall, by leasing it for three years! We haven’t thought of converting it into a public space, since we are never thinking of the local individual and how they and the city could benefit from an innovative use of the building!
What would such an innovative use of the Escola Medica be? One such use will be on display from the 10th of this month onwards for a period of two weeks. A collection of art works by different art works by Goan artists, curated by Ranjit Hoskote, the work seeks to highlight the continued creativity of Goan artists and the evolving nature of local culture. But this is not all it seeks to do, it also seeks to use this montage of art and culture as the backdrop for performances of various kind; theatre, academic reflection, song, which will continue to highlight this fact of continued cultural evolution. In making use of this grand space, what they are effectively doing is to transform it into a Palace of the People. But this momentary use is only one of the many uses it could be put to. Outside of the Kala Academy the city lacks a space where one can host the film clubs of the city and the continuing film festivals that Panjim is currently hosting. There is no reason why one of the halls of the old GMC cannot be outfitted to play this crucial role. A society that nurtures so many musicians offers no public space where they can practice- rooms that can be hired at ridiculously nominal prices for a budding band to practice. If the film festival is to continue in Panjim, whether as the dramatic IFFI or a locally hosted international film festival, it needs a permanent office. All said and done the city, as well as the State, needs space where culture is pushed toward the cutting edge and local talent nurtured and displayed, a Palace where the people hold court. However…
And while this conversion of a public building into a mall may correspond to a negative global trend, there is also at play a local dynamic. We in Goa seem entirely bereft when it comes to knowing what to do with our public buildings. We either convert them to hotels or convert them to museums. On both fronts we think not of ourselves, but of how groups other than ourselves can use these buildings (and our resources and selves consequently). One could argue that the museum serves to educate the local as well as the visitor, but take a look around you at the many museums we have. You visit them once and you can safely never visit it again, since there is going to be no substantial addition to the collection. With culture being identified only with the past, there is no investment in the museum as a space where the local can constantly engage with the cultural world and the creations emanating from it. In that sense then, the State did the most appropriate thing in converting the building of the Escola Medica into a mall. It couldn’t be converted into a hotel, that would be too crude, and if turned into a museum what would we do with the old Secretariat? So we seek the middle ground and convert it into a mall, by leasing it for three years! We haven’t thought of converting it into a public space, since we are never thinking of the local individual and how they and the city could benefit from an innovative use of the building!
What would such an innovative use of the Escola Medica be? One such use will be on display from the 10th of this month onwards for a period of two weeks. A collection of art works by different art works by Goan artists, curated by Ranjit Hoskote, the work seeks to highlight the continued creativity of Goan artists and the evolving nature of local culture. But this is not all it seeks to do, it also seeks to use this montage of art and culture as the backdrop for performances of various kind; theatre, academic reflection, song, which will continue to highlight this fact of continued cultural evolution. In making use of this grand space, what they are effectively doing is to transform it into a Palace of the People. But this momentary use is only one of the many uses it could be put to. Outside of the Kala Academy the city lacks a space where one can host the film clubs of the city and the continuing film festivals that Panjim is currently hosting. There is no reason why one of the halls of the old GMC cannot be outfitted to play this crucial role. A society that nurtures so many musicians offers no public space where they can practice- rooms that can be hired at ridiculously nominal prices for a budding band to practice. If the film festival is to continue in Panjim, whether as the dramatic IFFI or a locally hosted international film festival, it needs a permanent office. All said and done the city, as well as the State, needs space where culture is pushed toward the cutting edge and local talent nurtured and displayed, a Palace where the people hold court. However…
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