Change of Guard by Ralph de Sousa

We have been subjected to history that has always come from top down. Now comes the time to look at our own history from bottom up. Ralph’s book does just that. The book begins with the maritime exploits of Portuguese mariners who, under royal patronage, conquered parts of Goa; the author’s own childhood memories of their last week in the colony, the arrival of the Indian troops and the subsequent settling down of the state. This is not history that has come out from a library. This is oral history, as recalled from the perspective of individuals. It is a documentation of memory. Ralph has invited people from various religious, academic and social backgrounds who were either children then, in 1961, or young adults. It is a personal point of view that invites us readers to mesh all the memories together and make up a robust, useful overview.

Truth is stranger than fiction. If this was a novel, I would have put it down and exclaimed, “Ah! What imagination! How incredible!” but this is a historical fact. The fact that the Portuguese in Goa were ludicrously outnumbered and how these troops intended to protect “their Goa” is laughable if it were not so tragic. 

Murad Ali Baig was eight years old when his father, Mirza Rashid Ali Baig was appointed India’s First Consul General by the interim government to Goa in 1947 but he recalls how a large gathering of Goan men and women had come to their house for a celebration. (The house was the same house that is the Sunapranta Centre for the Arts today.) It was at this gathering that the Consul General realised that the time was right to liberate Goa from its colonial masters. He sent a message over to the Indian government. Tragically, they did not act on it and Goa had to wait until 1961 to be liberated.

Ralph’s recollections of his childhood playmates is both informative and endearing. He also describes the Mocidade Portuguesa, the youth brigade where membership was compulsory for boys between the ages of 7-14. Ralph too was a young boy, barely a child, when the Indian Army marched in but what is amazing is that he can recall every single detail of what he saw, how his parents and aunts handled the situation and the names of all the staff members, drivers and mine workers! 

Ralph’s friend Valentino Viegas would be right when he says, “If we carry out a survey in downtown Lisbon or in the centre of the city of Panjim, in Goa, and ask passers-by both young and old, if the date of December 18, 1961 meant anything to them, the overwhelming majority would look at us with astonished faces, as if the question had been asked by a deranged person or an alien”. 

In Winds of Change, José Francisco Xavier Ferrao, who had innocently asked for a ride home in a Portuguese army jeep, “saw the small bridge at Bodgeshwar blown up”. “The open jeep was full of ammunition/bombs which were being supplied to soldiers who were stationed at vantage points.” In Enduring Memory, José Felipe must have been barely twelve when he went to school as usual but had to return when he saw that there was no one about at the Lyceum and that “one could see ashes of documents burnt in the Government Secretariat… scattered by the wind.” In the absence of TV, radio, mobile phones or the internet, there was only one mode of communication then. “Wait and see.” When the newspapers did come out, he said he was astonished that the papers that had been glorifying the presence of the Portuguese until two days ago were now singing the praises of the Indian Army.

In Memories are Made of These, Adv Zito Bragança reminds us that all the blowing up of the bridges did was cause hardship to the locals. It did not deter the Indian Army. And that the winds of change also brought with them memories of being frisked and humiliated by “soldiers” if one was caught moving about after dark. In Memories Linger Forever, Sunanda Parulekar tells us something that no one has told us about. She says that 200 metres north of where their house was in Mapusa, there was an Ammunition and Arsenal depot, barracks, canteen and some houses rented by the Military. What is even more interesting is that she says these “paklos” would visit their home every year for the Shri Ganesh festival, take the Lord’s blessings and take some neurios home as prasad.

In My Memories, Maria de Lourdes Bravo da Costa Rodrigues, tells us about censorship giving us a detailed account of what it was like for Goans serving in government, in hospitals and in the Banco Naçional Ultramarino. U D Kamat, in Down Memory Lane gives us a lucid and vivid account of the liberation movement and how, when Pandit Jawaharlal Nehru gave his speech in Campal, it was Gandhiji’s bust from their home that took pride of place on the stage. He also describes how times have changed since the liberation as a witness of this change from his position in the Tourism Department over 50 years.

In War tremors felt at Calangute Beach, Manguirish Pai Raikar draws a charming word picture of his childhood in Calangute (climbing trees, learning how to swim and playing logoryo and viti-dandu) and how he went off, on a whim, with the camião cleaner without telling his grandparents and how he joyously shouted “Jai Hind” when the Indian Army tanks entered Calangute.

In Rousing Reminiscences of the Portuguese Regime, Vinayak Naik recalls being at the Éscola Primaria de Taleigao where the Governor General Dr Vassalo e Silva handed out school bags, shaking each child’s hand with a beaming smile. He also recalls his teachers by name and being a child genius at the telegraph at the age of seven. He was no doubt tutored by his father who was the Postmaster at Diu, much to the surprise and delight of Governor Delgado who was prone to making surprise visits.

Frank Simoes has written a short essay on the dramatic events at Dabolim airport in his inimitable style. In the Aftermath, José Felipe Monteiro tells us what happened after the colonists left and how the diaspora took shape. Edgar Valles gives us a legal position of obtaining Portuguese nationality (a subject that comes up in Goa often) and clears all ambiguity. Acquiring Portuguese citizenship? Things you need to know, V B Prabhu Verlekar clarifies that for most English-speaking Goans a Portuguese passport was a gateway to the U.K. and provides further clarification on the issue with a ready reckoner in the form of most FAQ’s. 

In the pages that follow, we learn how iron ore mining was seen as a life-saver for the economy and how gracious the handing over of power from one to the other was; on Monsignor José Viera Alvernaz, Patriarch Archbishop of Goa and Daman (1953-62) and the role he played in brokering a cease fire and avoided bloodshed for both sides. 

Ralph has an easy, homely style of writing. He does not overwhelm you with dates and timelines and yet the book has been put together so all the pieces of the puzzle fit. Definitely a book that you must have in your bookshelf or library. Buy it. If that fails, beg, borrow or steal it.