THE HYPOCRISY OF GOA’S PROTESTING AWARDEES

By JASON KEITH FERNANDES, DALE LUIS MENEZES, AMITA KANEKAR, VISHVESH KANDOLKAR, and KAUSTUBH NAIK

In the context of a number of Sahitya Akademi awardees across India returning their respective awards in protest against the growing intolerance in India, in Goa around fourteen Sahitya Akademi awardees together with Padmashri awardees Maria Aurora Couto and Amitav Ghosh came together and issued a joint statement on 15 October, 2015. One would be struck by the hypocrisy contained in their press note released were it not for the fact that their politics of intolerance is so blatantly displayed all over the same note.

In their statement these local notables condemn “the rising trend of intolerance in the country which threatens freedom of expression…[and] the age-old liberal and all-encompassing philosophical traditions of this country.” One would take this concern seriously were it not for the fact many of these notables have been complicit not only in acts of intolerance themselves, but also physical violence.

For some years now there have been demands from many quarters that Konkani literature written in the Roman script also be given governmental recognition. But Sahitya Akademi awardees like Pundalik Naik and N. Shivdas, who have presided over the Goa Konkani Academy, have not felt it necessary to take up this cause and ensure that a Konkani tradition with a longer history than that in the Nagari script one is recognised. On the contrary, all of these protesting SahityaAkademi awardees and Padmashri Couto have watched silently while Roman-scriptKonkani has been officially ignored and excluded from all kind of state recognition, including awards and grants.

In addition, these persons have maintained a studious silence while their associates, such as Uday Bhembre and Nagesh Karmali, have engaged in the most vicious hate speech against the Catholic community in the course of the Medium of Instruction controversy (that has raged from 2011), when Goan parents demanded the right to determine the manner in which their children are educated. Where was their concern for the alleged liberal traditions, and traditional bonhomie, of Goa then?

To make matters worse, these same notables watched silently when in 2005 Naguesh Karmali, a member of this verygroup of protestors, led a violent mob in destroying public and private property on the grounds that such property was encouraging Portuguese (read as Catholic) culture in Goa.Given that Goa has had a long and historical relationship with Portugal, doesn’t the violent smashing of manifestations of this relationship amount to an act of the very same rabid communalism that these worthies profess to protest against?

In light of these inconsistencies, and the equally amusing announcement that they will hold on to their awards until the meeting of the executive committee of the Sahitya Akademi, it appears that these awardees seem more interested on jumping onto the bandwagon of political trendiness, than for any desire to stand against the growing intolerance in the country, and indeed, Goa itself.

We would like to stress that while it is true that the government of Mr. Modi has definitely presided over a rise in intolerance in the country, the roots of this intolerance lie deeper in the country’s history. As we have already pointed out, a number, if not all, of these Goan awardees are complicit in this intolerance. Their complicity is further evident in the manner in which they phrase their protest within the language of Hindutva. Why, for example, are the recent acts compared to ‘talibanism’, instead of calling them Hindutva, or Hindu nationalism? Talibanism is a phenomenon situated outside the country, when Hindutva is the problem actually at hand, given that Kalbargi, Pansare and Dabholkar lost their lives as a result of their opposition to this ideology. Indeed, Hindu nationalism has been a problem since before Indian independence. In referencing the Taliban, these awardees continue the refusal to recognize Hindu nationalism as the single greatest cause of concern in this country since 1947.

In conclusion, we would be more convinced of the genuine concerns of these state awardees from Goa if we heard them also protest the exclusion of Konkani in the Roman script from legislative recognition, also the violent condemnation of the Goans who are simply asking for English as a state-supported medium of instruction for their children, and also the lack of implementation of constitutional guarantees for education and jobs to historically discriminated-against Goan communities. Such protests would go further in establishing norms for the respect of fundamental rights, and the establishment of law and order in our state and country.

(First published in DNAIndia (Web) on 23 October, 2015)

‘ESCAPING’ TO GOA

The urban Indians, especially those privileged by caste and class, are at it again. The Condé Nast Traveller India last month carried a two-part article by Revati Upadhya on “How to move to Goa”. While Upadhya’s article is ostensibly about how urban Indians, tired of the rat-race and the hamster-wheel of metropolitan India, can leave it all for the quiet and peaceful life in Goa, what is unmistakable is the trope of ‘escape’ in her article. She says, “Like us, a range of professionals from across India are escaping [emphasis mine] big city shackles only to discover that setting a life in Goa isn’t tough and finding livelihood isn’t much of a bother”.

Not so long ago, Vishvesh Kandolkar, a professor at the Goa College of Architecture, made an astute comment on the changing trends of the real estate market in Goa. He observed that “one should be aware that the large, elite, property sharks from the Indian metros, ably aided by the local real estate industry, are taking bigger bites of [Goa], and that too as a second, or a third, helping, in their insatiable lust for property ownership and leisure”. Obviously, large chunks of Goan land gobbled up by real estate sharks is a real crisis. However, it is not always a simple and clear-cut case. Also part of the problem is the manner in which Goa is viewed in metropolitan India. Thus, the key to the problem lies in identifying that the desire of elite Indians for a piece of Goan land, and lifestyle for their consumption, is an exercise of their privilege, as well as demonstrating how Goa is constructed as a veritable touristic paradise.

Upadhya must be talking of a different Goa from the one inhabited by most local Goans, for if finding livelihood in Goa is not much of a problem, then why are so many Goans migrating out? In the face of this confusion, one might ask why Goa is the most favored destination for privileged urban Indians like Upadhya. Part of the answer lies in the manner in which Goa was created and projected as a site of tourism and pleasure. A deeper understanding of the issue is provided in Paul Routledge’s essay ‘Consuming Goa: Tourist Site as Dispensable Space’ (2000). In this essay Routledge argues that as a site of tourism and pleasure Goa was created “to serve as one of world’s pleasure peripheries, a cultural space for the leisure consumption of tourists divorced from the needs and concerns of everyday life”. The trope of ‘escape’ or ‘going away’ was also important for Routledge as he quite rightly argued that tourists ‘went away’ from their own lives, their cultural and economic milieu to a “timeless, workless paradise” (p. 2652).

To be fair to Upadhya, the main thrust of her article is also about finding suitable working options from Goa, despite hiccups like bad internet connectivity. But the idea that she is ‘escaping’ from a metropolitan city into peace and serenity – to a “timeless, workless paradise” – is very much present. In her own words, “Much as I love my trips back home to Bengaluru [Bangalore], it is landing back in Goa that makes me feel at peace again. As I exit the airport and drive down the tree-lined highway back to Dona Paula, I feel my breathing slow down again. Yes, I’ve come back to slower [i]nternet speeds, nonexistent public transport and close to no home-delivery, but I’ve come home”.  

By Angela Ferrao

The argument that needs to be made here is that older ideas of Goa being a pleasure-periphery are still in circulation and combine with the contemporary privileges of urban Indians. Note, for example, Udpadhya’s unconscious echoing of the hippy construction of Goa as a location of peace. If at all Upadhya and others find Goa as an amenable destination, it is because Goa is a pleasure-periphery for India and not in spite of it. What such ‘moving-to-Goa’ views hide is the fact that for most of urban Indians a move to Goa is a way up in one’s career, a move that signals that one has arrived in life – professionally and personally.

Secondly, as many commentators like Richa Narvekar, Vishvesh Kandolkar, Jason Keith Feranandes, and this writer have noted in the not so distant past, it is precisely such a desire of Indian and global elites for a piece of Goan lifestyle which is creating conditions that are making Goan real estate unaffordable for the average Goan. Let alone the fact that land as a resource is terribly scarce in Goa.

Lest this be solely seen as an argument for Goa for Goans, a response that is often used to shut down valid questions about the exercise of elite privileges, let me hasten to add that my intention is to suggest caution in the way we engage with Goa and Goans. My intention is to highlight how privilege works in multiple ways in compounding Goa’s problems. Like Vishvesh Kandolkar, I too would like to reiterate that the problem lies with the elite, both local and external, who use Goa for their leisure-consumption, even though they might tell you how difficult their life is, whether in their respective metros, or in Goa. The cost of such leisure-consumption has to be borne by the mass of Goans for whom living in Goa is becoming increasingly difficult. Moreover to sustain the leisure lifestyle of the elites there comes along many laboring-class ‘migrants’ competing with the poorer Goans to earn their livelihood. Thus, local Goans are hit with an economic double whammy, one from the ‘elite migrants’ and subsequently by their supporting laboring-class ‘migrants’. Idealizing Goa but for its bad internet and transportation is to do disservice to Goa and the migrant labour-class who deserve better.

Idealizing Goa will not help, talking about power and privilege operating in Goa will.

Many thanks to Angela Ferrao for permitting me to use her illustration.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 14 October, 2015)

FALA FARSI? NOTES ON MULTI-LINGUAL PRACTICES FOR GOA

By

DALE LUIS MENEZES & VISHVESH KANDOLKAR

The indefinite hunger strike of Savio Lopes and members of Forum for Rights of Children to Education (FORCE) for government grants to English as Medium of Instruction (MoI) have exposed the shallow and undemocratic language politics – under the guise of ‘mother tongue’, ‘Goan identity’, ‘Konkani’, ‘Marathi’, etc – in Goa. While arguing for a robust multi-lingual outlook as well, we would like to open up the conversation to a host of other languages that Goans can profitably engage with.

Arguably, when one talks about expanding the access to languages other than Konkani, Marathi, and English, the obvious choice that immediately comes to mind is Portuguese. The importance of the Portuguese language for Goa cannot be understated. Briefly, since a lot of legal and historical/archival material is available in Portuguese, a good grasp on this language would help thousands of Goans to access their own history. Further, as matters relating to land and properties are recorded in Portuguese being conversant with the language will help many to access this information, thus preventing frauds through fudging. Though, familiarity with the Portuguese language may not instantly result in overcoming the balance of power between the have and have-nots, learning it has a potential of creating a more level playing field. This is because in Goa, Portuguese as a language – then and now – was the preserve of a few elites, which allowed them to hold onto power and privilege.

The condition of the access to the Portuguese language, historically, is not so different from that of the English language today. The large non-elite population of Goa (across religious lines) demands English as MoI as it seems to be the preserve of the few; the rich can afford the exorbitant fees of private institutions. Therefore ending this monopolistic and hegemonic hold that a few people have over languages can lead to the emancipation of the have-nots by giving them access to power, privilege, and least of all, respectable employment.

To further open up the conversation about languages that can help us understand Goan history, we would like to suggest that Persian or Farsi is also very important. The territories that came to be known as Goa from the fifteenth-century onwards were part of the Deccan Sultanate and can be said to live in its cultural, and political, shadow. In fact, before Portuguese intervention, Persian (as well as Arabic) terminology was much in use for legal, administrative, and taxation matters in the territory which became Goa and it continued to do so even during the subsequent Portuguese period. Moreover, Goa was in a constant interaction with the cultural and political hubs of the Deccan, such as Bijapur and Golconda.

Along with Persian, a case can also be made for acquiring skills in Arabic. Given the decades old migration of Goans in the Arab world, teaching Arabic in schools may also be useful. Further learning to read and write the Perso-Arabic script may also help many to access Konkani written in that script in pockets across the Konkan and Canara coasts!

Sign language, although not a spoken language might also be useful as it might help us interact with people with hearing handicap. This suggestion might seem out of context but it does help us to extend the idea that many people who understand sign languages consider those who don’t as handicapped, and why not. Of course there are cognitive benefits of learning a sign language for all children, but the larger concern is that the learning for, and communicating with, people with disabilities, is completely ignored in Goa.

The article thus far has made reference to a number of ways in which Goans can engage with multiple languages. To take this point forward, we would like to suggest that contrary to the rhetoric of groups like the Bharati Bhasha Suraksha Manch, identity is not tied to a singular language or ‘mother tongue’. To demonstrate this, we would like to make reference to the literary career of the Goan writer Laxmanrao Sardesai (1904-1986).

As Paul Melo e Castro writes in his essay ‘Of Prison Walls and Barroom Brawls…’ (2012), for most of his literary career Sardesai wrote in Marathi, with most of his stories being “anti-colonial, a bold stance when Salazarist propaganda depicted Goa as part and parcel of Portugal” (p. 128).  Having started his literary career by the 1930s, despite being considered an eminent Marathi writer, Sardesai shifted to writing in Portuguese and Konkani from the 1960s. As Castro explains, Sardesai wanted to craft a different identity for Goa to oppose the merger with Maharashtra. As such “Sardesai’s turn to writing in Portuguese (and Konkani) after a lifetime of renown as a Marathi writer” (p. 130) was a demonstration of the unique singularity of Goan identity within the Indian nation.

Today, none would dare to suggest that there were any contradictions in Sardesai’s choices; neither would anybody argue that he was ‘denationalized’. What is important to note is that Sardesai could choose from a pool of languages, which he learned due to his privileged background. It is this privilege of choice that needs to be opened up to the Goan masses as well.

(First published in O Heraldo, dt: 19 August, 2015)