Showing posts with label Estado Novo. Show all posts
Showing posts with label Estado Novo. Show all posts

Tuesday, March 1, 2016

PROPAGANDA AND HISTORY: THE LAST DAYS OF THE ‘ESTADO NOVO’



The Facebook page Memórias da India Portuguesa regularly posts old photos and videos of Goa largely produced during the last few decades of Portuguese rule in Goa, Daman, and Diu. While the visual value of these images is indeed rich, there is hardly any history-related engagement with the same. Since these images are only recently collected together from diverse sources, in effect constituting a historical archive, issues such as engagement with the propaganda within the archive can be subjected to a scholarly analysis.

One of the videos that Memórias shared was a documentary produced by Time magazine in 1953, under the ‘March of Time’ series. This rich archive produced from 1935 to 1967 was recently restored by HBO Archives. It is said that Time magazine wanted to create a new form of visual journalism, a cross between docudrama and journalism. ‘March of Time’ thus used re-enactments and reportage, often leaving people completely baffled and unable to make sense of their films.

Keeping with its style of reenactment-journalism, the episode on Portuguese Goa opens with the director of ‘March of Time’, Dwight Godwin paying a visit to Goa’s then Governor-General Paulo Bernardo Guedes. Owing to the fact that nationalist movements were prominent around the 1950s, and due to the immense pressure that was exerted on the Portuguese by the Indian state and the international community, Godwin’s first question to Guedes was not surprising: “We’ve been told,” he said, “that here in Goa the level of [economic] prosperity is very good…do you feel it is true, sir?” Guedes replied, “É verdade”, adding that Godwin should ascertain for himself if it were indeed true.

And then for the next fifteen-odd minutes, the documentary rapidly projects the economic and social condition of Goa. There are visuals that show the port of Mormugao where “flags of all nations fly in the harbor…just like in the sixteenth century (sic)”, the export of Manganese ore, as well as the mining operations in one of the mines. Although the narrator of the documentary remarks that manganese mining and exports are done in a labour-intensive manner, it nonetheless does not affect the potential of the Goan economy. The import of luxury goods and a very busy customs house impresses the documentary-makers – even if they do not approve of the smuggling that is clandestinely carried out across the border with the territory of neighbouring India.

Though one might suspect this rosy picture of the economic condition of Goa in the 1950s, it must be stressed that no serious historical research has been carried out to ascertain the conditions during this period of time. And as such, the glimpse of a Goan farmer, Caetano, his wife, and their four children, working in the paddy fields is quite interesting and useful. For one, the documentary claims that, like many other farmers in Goa, this farmer is content in being a citizen of Portugal, and is also able to provide two modest square meals for his family – which is better than the then prevailing conditions in India. The emphasis that the documentary places on citizenship extended by Portugal is not a misplaced one, as Portugal recognized the citizenship rights of all Goans after 1910. Yet saying that farmers in Goa were content with Portuguese citizenship might be far from the truth, as most of the agrarian labourers worked on lands that did not belong to them. Until the reforms introduced by Dayanand Bandodkar, the hold of the bhatkar class on Goan land-ownership was almost absolute. Which is why when trying to understand colonial propaganda, one not only has to question the obvious colonial motives involved, but also the class of natives whose control over resources and alliance with the colonial regime worked together to subjugate common people. Thus, one can also speak about class and caste oppression within Goan society under colonial rule, and not just foreign colonial oppression.




Another important glimpse that the documentary offers is that of the African soldiers from Moçambique stationed in Goa. While very little is known about these soldiers from Africa, their presence is sometimes not even acknowledged properly. This is understandable as Goan history is often hijacked by Indian nationalist concerns, and those who are marginal to this worldview are simply ignored. Even histories of race are marginal to the nationalist historiography, perhaps the reason why we do not see African soldiers in Goa as integral to Goan history. Thus, the visuals of Moçambiquan soldiers singing (or being made to sing) their native songs, due to homesickness or nostalgia, allows us a small glimpse of the African thread in Goa’s history.

To be fair to the documentary-makers, not everything in the documentary furthers Portuguese colonial propaganda. For instance, as far as the naval and armed forces stationed in Goa, the documentary remarks that the army “though larger [in comparison to the navy] is a token force”. While Goans have often heard stories of horror perpetuated by the Portuguese on pro-India freedom-fighters, the meager policing resources at the disposal of the colonial state might suggest a different reality.


The documentary ends with Godwin paying another visit to Guedes, after his tour around Goa. Godwin comes to the conclusion that “there does not seem to be any feeling of colonialism amongst the Goan people”. To which Guedes responds, “Goa is not a colony but a province, like any other province, of Portugal”. It is true that Portugal changed the nomenclature of Goa to an ‘overseas province’, but we cannot be sure what it exactly meant for the people living in such circumstances. Colonial propaganda, therefore, cannot be simply rejected, and neither can it be accepted at face-value, claiming that it represents the true images of Goa’s past. But within the claims and counter-claims of propaganda, there is a lot that can be unearthed.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 2 March, 2016)

Wednesday, January 21, 2015

FC GOA FLAGS AND GOAN IDENTITY



Sports – and sporting events – and their link with nationalism is unmistakable. Yet, despite being so obvious this link is rarely scrutinized critically. The celebration of Goanness in the victories of FC Goa in the recently concluded ISL Championship is an appropriate example. One can suggest that such a celebration of Goanness was never seen before as far as football in Goa is concerned. So what does this mad euphoria for FC Goa tell us about Goa and Goan identity?

One of the most overt ways in which Goanness was celebrated through FC Goa was by displaying FC Goa’s flag with vehement enthusiasm both inside the stadium as well as outside. Driving to various towns and villages in Goa with a friend, I was struck by how ubiquitous the flags were. Cars, scooters, houses, as well as shops were seen proudly displaying the flags. Michael Billig in his book Banal Nationalism (1995) underscores the importance of ‘flagging the homeland’ in our everyday lives. This ‘flagging’ does not simply refer to the physical object of the flag of a nation, but the many abstract and symbolic ways in which we are reminded of our homeland or nation every day. Words such as ‘we’, ‘ours’, ‘theirs’, etc., Billig argues, subconsciously remind us of our nations and homelands every day. Billig looks at how the newspapers use these abovementioned words in the most banal manner and suggests that newspapers are a site for ‘flagging the homeland’ in day-to-day life. Billig singles out sports as an area wherein the homeland is continuously ‘flagged’ in a banal manner with much enthusiasm, whatever may be the political affiliation of the newspaper.

The link between sports and ‘flagging the homeland’ was also observed by Zoltan Grossman. Writing in a lighter vein about the Green Bay Packers football (the one where they pick up the ball and run!) team in Wisconsin, USA, Grossman discussed how their first Super Bowl victory in 1997 made people behave in a very ‘nationalistic’ and ‘patriotic’ way. Similar to the scene in Goa, Green Bay Packers fans waved flags and displayed their pride through car stickers. And perhaps they went overboard when they considered the turf of their home stadium as sacred earth! Grossman, though writing in a satirical and lighter vein, does draw parallels with how nations are imagined and how national territory is marked.

Needless to say, the failure and success of FC Goa was keenly discussed and followed in the press. Despite the celebrity presence in the form of Bollywood and cricket personalities, die-hard FC Goa fans maintained that they overwhelmingly supported the team because the Brazilian legend, Zico was the coach, and more importantly “that they finally ha[d] a ‘Goa’ team” to support. For his part, co-owner of FC Goa Dattaraj Salgaocar, writing in a local newspaper asserted that FC Goa was successful in uniting the Goan people. “FC Goa,” he said, “may have lost in the penalty shootout in the semi finals, but I believe that it has won the hearts of Goa and our entire country. Our vision of uniting the people of Goa through football has come true; every Goan has been rooting for our team”.

While today we may celebrate football as being quintessentially Goan, the history of its promotion in Goa in relation to the Portuguese state, and commercial interests within Goa has more than what meets the eye. There is an obvious link between mining firms/families and football in Goa, and as such it demonstrates a pattern. As Constantino Xavier based at the John Hopkins University, Washington DC noted in one of his columns, the Portuguese state or Estado Novo promoted football in the 1950s, which the mining companies capitalized on immediately. (Interestingly, many blamed the initial losing streak of FC Goa on the irregularities in the mining sector!).

Xavier also notes the link with the promotion of football in Goa with nationalism, “Passion for football became a symbol of passion for Portugal. In 1955, Mozambique’s Ferroviarios of Lourenço Marques [or Maputo] visited Goa on tour, which was followed in 1959 by the Port Trust Club of Karachi. The highlight came in May of 1960, when a reserve team from giants Sport Lisboa e Benfica showed up for three test matches”. So if we are proudly waving flags in celebration of Goan football and thus Goanness, the history of this may point to factors other than the cliché that football runs in the blood of every Goan. Indeed, FC Goa’s slogan ‘Força Goa’ is similar to ‘Força Portugal’, used to passionately cheer the Portuguese football team. The ‘flagging’ of FC Goa also points to the significance of Portugal for Goan identity and how the history of Goan identity is intimately tied to the Portuguese presence in Goa. Unfortunately, this history is not yet written. All we have for now is the stray but interesting comment that Xavier made recently.

The FC Goa euphoria came at a time when this was the only news that was worth looking forward to. Football offered hope and a reason to celebrate Goa. As it mostly happens with nationalism, the celebration of Goan identity through FC Goa flags came at the cost of forgetting how fractured this very Goan identity is. But sport and its deep connection with nationalism can be seen as providing a space for instant bonding, despite the internal fractures in a society. This was seen after Spain won its maiden World Cup in 2010, uniting the country despite regions like Catalonia and Basque demanding more autonomy. Commentators also noted the remarkable number of Spanish flags that were flown across the country following the victory. If at all any unity has been achieved, as the ‘flagging’ of FC Goa would suggest, it would mean nothing if we do not ask some tough questions about the things we love and cherish as Goans. If we love football then we need to dissect the sport thoroughly. We should not only be worried about utilizing and developing Goan talent in football, but how this sport – the beautiful game – unites us as Goans.

(First published in  O Heraldo, dt: 21 January, 2015)