THE ‘MOTHERS’ OF GOA

Every few months the issue of identity emerges in Goa, and vociferous debates and discussions undoubtedly follow. One can observe a certain tendency wherein political issues are reduced to issues of Goan identity. This is done by emotionally appealing to the masses that their existence solely depends on protecting an abstract idea – the Goan identity. This abstract and loosely-defined idea assumes different forms around events, symbols, and objects as the political and ruling classes see fit. One way in which these emotional appeals are made is through the idea of ‘mother’.

In the last couple of months, one such issue where ‘mother’ was invoked was the diversion of the waters of river Mhadei. In these debates, one of the statements claimed that the river Mhadei is the “mother” of Goans. The logic, one presumes, is that the Mhadei river forms a crucial, life-giving link for Goans. Without the river feeding its waters to the Mandovi in Goa, it was argued, there would be no Goans, and Goa will turn into a parched desert. As such, Goans need to band together to halt the developmental plans of Karnataka. Although it is true that the river might undergo drastic changes – or even disappear – if the waters are diverted away in other parts of Karnataka, the logic of the opposition discourse elevates the physical existence of the river to an abstract idea. The point is that those who are trying to mobilize Goans against the proposed plans on the Mhadei are using an emotional appeal to drum up populist support, rather than ensuring that the legal, technical, and environmental arguments are strengthened and due process followed.

This is not the first time that politics in Goa has been defined through the metaphor of ‘motherhood’. The debates surrounding the Konkani language and Goan identity are the best examples of how political discourses in Goa are couched in terms of ‘motherhood’. From the ’60s one witnessed an emerging view that Konkani was Goa’s sole language. In these terms, the relationship of Goans to the Konkani language was projected to be one that a mother and child shared. To not protect (and therefore not be loyal to) one’s mother was a betrayal of Goan identity. At this point one needs to pause and ask: which communities have benefitted from this kind of politics? Has the politics of ‘identity through motherhood’ enriched the political discourse in Goa? Arguably, not. One can observe that no proper resolution of Goa’s identity issues has ever come about in the last 50-odd years. On the contrary, one witnesses ever more contestations regarding Goan identity.

The identity politics surrounding the ‘Konkani mai’ or ‘mai bhas’ – the Konkani mother – benefitted only a few. The votaries of Romi Concanim have been left out in the cold, as the Official Language Act of 1987 only recognized Konkani in the Nagri script as official. This is not to argue that the language politics has turned out what it is today only because Konkani was elevated to the status of a ‘mother’. However, it can be observed that casting Konkani in a singular notion of ‘mother’ to Goans led to the exclusion of the other languages of Goa.

And this probably is the problem with identity politics that has a narrow focus on one particular event, symbol, and object while excluding other similar objects, events, and symbols. It is through this kind of politics that one section of the Goan people is pitted against another. If some years back political parties and cultural institutions claimed that Konkani was the defining element of Goa’s identity, in more recent times the people of Goa are being rallied around such symbols like the coconut tree, the coconut, and now even a river.

A couple of years ago, Kaustubh Naik, a research scholar, called for an “unburdening” of Goa’s language politics from the notion of ‘motherhood’  precisely because of the current exclusive nature of the language politics in Goa. With the political discourse around the Mhadei issue being framed in terms of ‘motherhood’, one wonders if certain patterns of such politics will also repeat as they did in the Konkani movement. For one, we can think about how the masses will be emotionally rallied, while the rights of many communities that directly depend on the river for sustenance will be systematically compromised. One is not clear why the Mhadei issue is tethered to Goan identity. Why it isn’t simply an issue of the right to water of the people of Goa and Karnataka? Or an ecological issue wherein diverting the courses of rivers can have drastic impact on the environment and therefore on the present and future generations of people?

The pattern of identity politics in Goa’s recent history in fact indicates that the mobilization of the masses for the purpose of safeguarding identity – often by the political and dominant classes – does not transform into a concrete action for securing rights of non-dominant communities. In this conceptualization of the ‘mother’ the issues of life and livelihood are divorced from the political discourse.

What is worse is that in this manner the masses of Goa are lead from one identity crisis to another. The actual problems are not addressed and the social, economic, and cultural realities of many sections of the Goan population are erased or elided. We must, therefore, be on our guard against such tendencies of misusing identity politics.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 31 January, 2018)

NATIONAL INTERESTS AND LOCAL INTERESTS

Goa Forward’s (GF) recent views on the expansion of coal handling at the Mormugao Port Trust (MPT) should be evaluated with the party’s rhetoric of being a ‘regional party’. Surprising, some might say, that a party that stood for Goemkarponn is at odds with those who are desperately working to save Goa’s ecology. If regional interests or Goemkarponn are to be secured for the benefit of the local people, can national interests be served at the same time? Though the backlash to the statements led to a retraction as far as coal handling is concerned, nonetheless GF’s recent statements and their compromises on the issue of nationalization of rivers should make us to introspect and interrogate how national and regional interests operate.

Apart from the fact that national interests have a flip side of making those who do not conform to these interests as ‘anti-nationals’, terms like national interest are a curious way through which protests are muzzled, especially those against the draconian policies of the state. Often policies and projects carried out for the express purpose of securing national interest benefit multinational corporations. National interest further benefit persons of dominant caste and class groups or those who enjoy the power given unto them by the state and the media, while the land and resources of the poor and bahujan groups are appropriated wholesale.

Large-scale projects are not the only way to observe the operation of national interests against regional ones. In a curious way, we can see it operating in Goa’s language politics as well. By making Nagri-scripted Konkani as one of the official languages of Goa, a certain nationalist politics was put into play. The Roman-scripted Konkani and those who demanded that it too be recognized as official were left out. Within this nationalist politics it was not possible to recognize the Roman script because the Roman script is allegedly foreign. Anything foreign is not Indian, and therefore would not serve any national interests. Portuguese-inflected or -derived words in Konkani had to be purged in favor of Sanskrit-derived vocabulary to make Konkani more Indian and more national.

Linked to the politics of the Konkani language and its official script is the Medium of Instruction (MoI) issue. The demand for English, so the argument went, was anti-thetical to Indian culture. Forcing children to study only in “regional languages”, some believe, would instill national pride in the children of Goa. Vile propaganda suggested that the MoI in English was a conspiracy to serve ‘Catholic interests’. It is, however, a different matter that those who are demanding English as MoI are fed-up of the parochial language politics in Goa, and see no future in the manner in which ‘regional languages’ are forced onto the Goan public, more especially, on the poorer and bahujan sections who cannot afford private English education. The bottom line is that through a narrow and parochial politics, Goa’s elite classes are serving national interests that do not see any merits in including all forms of cultures and linguistic expressions. In fact one is expected to give up on certain practices if they do not conform to the national standard.

During the press conference which received a huge backlash, GF’s spokesperson Prashant Naik also made a sarcastic comment, arguing that if there is an opposition to all development projects then all Goans will have to “make the passport” and leave. Notwithstanding the blatant illegalities of such development projects as well as the manner in which such projects rob the people of Goa of their land and water, Naik’s seemingly off-the-cuff statement reveals a deep-seated bias. Those who opt for a Portuguese passport in order to have access to better employment opportunities, and in many ways to escape the increasingly vitiated and stifling political atmosphere in Goa, are seen as betraying the nation. They are viewed as having no loyalty to the nation. By suggesting that there is a link between those who opt for Portuguese citizenship and those who oppose mega-projects, Naik’s statement precisely draws from a ‘nationalist’ discourse that has no regard for the problems and difficulties of the people that drive migration.

Goa’s recent history is witness to several protests that opposed the large-scale takeover by the central governmental agencies and multinational corporations. At least from the 1980s there have been protests against such polluting industries like the Zuari Agro Chemicals, Nylon 6,6, Du Pont, Meta-Strips, the agitation against the Konkan Railway, as well as the agitation against the setting up of the Special Economic Zone, or the agitation led by the Ramponnkars, the traditional fishermen to safeguard the interests of people in traditional occupations. The agitation against evictions in Baina (in the garb of ‘cleaning’ the beaches of prostitution and migrants) amongst several others should also be remembered while the issue of MPT’s expansion is discussed. What this suggests is that in its recent history Goa has witnessed spirited opposition against a form of ‘development’ that is a direct assault on the lives of people.

Claims of national interest should be examined if they secure or deny rights to people, whether these rights are legal, cultural, environmental or in any other sphere. The discussion of Goemkarponn, local interests, and national interests should focus on the struggles in Goa’s recent history that has somewhat restricted the march of developmental projects. This and other instances such as the MoI issue wherein a large section of the people of Goa mobilized to fulfill certain demands tell us that the people of Goa have put local interests above so-called national ones. This is an important lesson to remember.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 10 May, 2017)

LANGUAGE WARS AND HOW TO WIN THEM

The recent resolution passed by the Goa Legislative Assembly to include Marathi as an official language has once again ignited the conflict surrounding languages in Goa. That this resolution, proposed by independent MLA Narendra Sawal, was passed on the last day of the Assembly session, and when elections are just round the corner, indicates that it has more to do with shifts and machinations of political power than with the emotional connect of many Goans with the Marathi language. Whether we like it or not, the ‘language issue’ is a potent force for political mobilization and one needs to fight the communal polarization of the ‘language issue’ by opening the language-sphere of Goa to English, Romi Concanim, Portuguese, and Marathi.

The resolution produced the same old frustrating responses from most Goans. Many felt that “Konkani” was their “mother tongue” with which they shared an emotional mother-child relationship, and that there was no place for any other language. Others felt, erroneously so, that those Goans who were demanding official recognition for Marathi should go to Maharashtra. Still others felt that the existing Official Language Act of 1987 (OLA) should not be changed, thus effectively implying that Romi Concanim should also not be given official status. While the Marathi activists were understandably jubilant, this jubilation seemed to be misguided on many levels, as the resolution was passed without any mention of Romi Concanim. To be fair, a week later the Marathi Rajbhasha Samiti demanded that Romi be included in the OLA. This resolution probably owes its existence to recent calls for Marathi-Romi and Hindu-Catholic unity. However, with this resolution by the Samiti coming too late, it would perhaps end up doing too little.

In this context, it is interesting to note the comments that the MLA of St. Andre, Vishnu Surya Wagh, made in the Assembly as well as in his recent writings for a prominent Marathi daily in Goa. Wagh, who is, at the moment of writing, recovering from an illness, had vociferously written against the casteist, communal, and chauvinist politics of nagri Konkani. While supporting the cause of Marathi, Wagh had also made the strong case that Romi Concanim was a legitimate language of Goa, and one that was older than the nagri-scripted Konkani. Wagh also spoke in the Assembly on the Medium of Instruction (MoI) issue. In his characteristic oratorial style, Wagh argued that because Romi was denied to a large number of Catholics, and nagri Konkani foisted on them, Catholics were demanding English education for their wards. While one can partially agree with Wagh, his opposition to English is problematic. For one, English is not just the demand made by Catholics, but bahujan Hindus too, as their socio-economic aspirations are tied to that language. The ‘Marathi-lovers’ must necessarily recognize this fact. Further, to not recognize the importance of English would be to drag the people of Goa back into the narrow and parochial linguistic politics, endangering the education and futures of Goa’s children.

In recent times, Wagh has emerged as the one politician and language activist who has taken a holistic stand on the language question. His arguments extended beyond language per se, to recognize that language is linked to power and communities. However, all the good work that he did proved to be fruitless by the one resolution that was passed in his very presence. So, how are the language wars to be won as well as ended once and for all? To do this one needs to think differently from how we have been thinking so far. One should begin by seeing the MoI issue as not separate but one which emerges out of the already existing language problem. Thus, the problem will fade away if grants to English medium schools are immediately legalized, irrespective of whether they are diocesan or not. It is quite ridiculous that the Goan state which makes laws in English, and conducts state business in English, does not want its young citizens to study in English. One should also think about expanding the linguistic sphere of Goa by recognizing the Portuguese language as important for Goa’s people in terms of legal frameworks, history, culture, and mobility.

Most importantly, Romi Concanim needs to be recognized as official post haste.  Not just this, it is the need of the hour to privilege Romi Concanim over nagri Konkani or even Marathi. With nagri Konkani as official and Marathi allowed to be used for all official purposes, the status quo needs to be shaken. This is so because a lot needs to be done to make Marathi politics work in favor of all Goans. Marathi-supporters have not yet been able to tell us how the interests of Catholics will be safeguarded, considering that jobs have been secured by many with the knowledge of Marathi (and nagri Konkani), despite Marathi being not recognized as fully official. The Marathi-supporters haven’t been able to tell us how they will stop the use of the Marathi language for the spread of Hindutva, for many know that it is through the emotional and cultural bonds of Marathi that Hindutva has mobilized in Goa over the last few decades. The Marathi-supporters haven’t told us why the Marathi movement which began as a pro-bahujan, anti-brahmin, anti-caste movement was compromised in favor of Brahmanism and Hindutva. Marathi activists need to clearly think about how to move away from the ‘Marathi-equals-merger’, a political fear not entirely baseless, which emerged out of the politics of Dayanand Bandodkar and the Maharastrawadi Gomantak Party in the 1960s.

Thus, it is imperative that the language-sphere of Goa is expanded to include Romi Concanim and legalize grants to English as MoI, and only subsequently recognize Marathi as official. Doing so, one would not only escape the claustrophobic language politics of Goa, but also craft a more international Goan citizenry, while effectively challenging the rise of Hindutva.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 31 August, 2016)

READING REGINALD: PULP FICTION OR NOT?

Anniversaries are good occasions to contemplate and reflect on personalities. As the 102nd birth anniversary of the Konkani writer Reginald Fernandes approaches (14 June, 1914 – 13 November, 1994) reflecting on how his books and writings have been perceived and understood thus far would seem fitting for the occasion.

Reginald’s writing, due to a lack of attention by literary scholars and writers in Goa, is assumed to be in the genre of ‘pulp fiction’. This is largely due to the want of a better term to describe cheaply-produced, pocket-sized fiction for mass consumption, and the fact that ‘pulp fiction’ is understood to be literature of low caliber. Within the Romi Konkani readership, the term romans is used to refer to such fiction – to the extent that ‘novel’ is synonymous with romans. With the formation of Goa’s statehood and the official recognition of nagri-scripted Konkani, one could observe not only a shift of modes of literary production from the organic (romans) to an artificial (kadombori, a term believed to be more Indian in its register), but also a rejection of the very form of the romans for a more modern and literary form of writing based on sanskritic culture.

Apart from linguistic politics, scholars of literature point out, the fuzzy boundaries between ‘pulp fiction’ and ‘literary fiction’ are due to practical causes as well. The immediate criterion used to classify a book as ‘pulp’ or not is its appearance and pricing. Reginald’s books fit this criterion as his books were published on cheaply available paper and these were modestly priced around 50 years ago at 2 rupees and a few paisas. But even by such a criterion, some books by famous novelists such as R. K. Narayan were published in cheap and affordable editions that had the appearance of ‘pulp’. Thus, the idea that books printed on cheap and coarse paper can be termed as ‘pulp’ can at times be misleading. Moreover, in the case of Reginald, the cheap and coarse print quality – almost lurid – can be explained by the fact that the author and publishers experienced financial difficulties with the rising prices, and hence these books had to be affordably priced.

‘Pulp fiction’ is mass-produced. The cheap pricing is meant to attract a reading demographic across economic divisions. It is largely aimed at making fiction accessible to lower income groups, such as the working class Goan population in Bombay. In this sense, Reginald’s books can be qualified as ‘pulp’, especially since 5000 copies would sell like hot cakes in no time. This mass production of ‘pulp fiction’ is not just confined to the print-run but also extends to the number of books an author churns out in his/her lifetime or career. If one looks at the authors who wrote ‘pulp fiction’ in Hindi and Tamil for instance, then the sheer number of books written would strike one as mind-boggling. Reginald’s oeuvre consisting well over one hundred books can easily qualify as ‘pulp’ in this respect.

Qualitatively speaking, ‘pulp fiction’ is supposed to be ‘bad literature’. Pulp follows a formula, the story-line is simple and straightforward, and is written in an effortless and accessible language. Scholars point out that many ‘good’ literary works (such as George Orwell’s Animal Farm) are also written in a simple and accessible manner. On the surface of it, Reginald’s writings, although simple and formulaic, make use of the Konkani language in novel and creative ways. Reginald’s descriptions of the scenes invoking the natural beauty of Goa have a poetic quality to them, and his descriptions of the fantastic and the marvelous leads him to use known words in many different ways.

One reason why writers such as Reginald were and are viewed in contemporary Goa as not literary enough is due to the cultural and political marginalization of the Romi script. Any literary production in the Romi script was viewed as lacking in literary standard by the dominant nagri establishment. One cannot deny that in order to make nagri Konkani the official language of Goa, the vibrancy of the Romi script productions were denied state recognition, apparently for a greater good. In such circumstances, referring to the oeuvre of writers like Reginald as ‘pulp’ may end up justifying such an attitude of ignoring the cultural vibrancy of the Romi script.

Considering the fuzzy boundaries between ‘literary’ and ‘pulp’ fiction, Tabish Khair, a writer, poet, and critic, attempts to define ‘pulp fiction’ in the Indian context: “[P]ulp fiction is fiction that used largely fixed generic features to satisfy the largely fixed reading expectations of as large a market as possible”. Even if in certain respects Reginald’s corpus of writings can be seen as ‘pulp’, one has to be careful given the fraught nature of language politics in Goa. So is there any alternative category that can be used to denote and understand the writings of those like Reginald? The alternative, I think, has been staring us in the face: romans.

Apart from the fact that romans is an organic term used in the context of Romi writings and has a legitimate tradition and history, it also helps us to do away with the artificial distinction between what constitutes literature and what doesn’t. In many languages the novel developed from a tradition of romance literature, so much so that a novel is synonymous with ‘romance’. Moreover, through the route of romans the pulp-esque features of writers like Reginald need not be entirely rejected. This will also allow us to escape the confusion that results from re-labeling romans as kadombori. In the end we can provide a provisional answer to the question in the title: not ‘pulp’ because we have a better alternative in romans.

For more Reading Reginald, click here.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 8 June, 2016)