We all streamed out, following the minion. Through the wooden security gate we filed, the one that is supposed to detect the presence of suspicious metal objects on one's person, and up the stairs we climbed. Across a landing whose timbers had been scuffed shiny by the passage of tired footwear, then down a verandah over which hung tattered pieces of plastic in an ugly and half-hearted attempt to keep out the rain. And finally into some functionary's room.
It turned out to be occupied by some minister, who lolled indulgently behind a desk. He was Luizinho Faleiro, before he became a big wheel, but who was even at the time odious. We chose seats. Greasy khitmutgars passed amongst us, proferring cups of tea and soggy biscuits. Luizinho grinned a sepulchral grin, as if privately awaiting the demise of one or another of those who had just seated themselves. Then, as if disappointed by the absence of such drama, he coughed and began.
"I have called you here," he announced brusquely, "to comment on…" and there followed some dull government programme or the other. Luizinho, with another graveyard grin, then collected his belly, cleared his throat and barked: "Take down!". And then proceeded to provide what I can only call dictation. To the credit of about a third of his audience, they did not whip out a notebook to scribble. The rest, shamefully, played the part of stenographers. It was my first encounter with the Establishment's view of the Press, and of the willingness of that part of the state's press to permit such a relationship.
Luizinho was merely following tradition, just as surely as the passage of the full barges bearing iron ore, which announced themselves with a dull throb as the red mineral made its way to the mouth of the Zuari and the hungry ore carriers berthed there. For they were – and are – one and the same. Government functionary and river vessel – both vehicles of the powers that seek to control 'aparanta'. Does it work? Should it?
It does in fact work. Teotonio de Souza, before he departed from the Xavier Centre of Historical Research, had chatted with me on a few occasions. He had been, then, as critical of the Church as he was of the gradual change he saw in Goa's politics and middle-class political consciousness. He had told me, up there in the haze of one Porvorim afternoon, how he had been amused to read that "Goans are largely a T-shirt wearing population".
That comment came from one Arun Sinha, who was then, and as far as I know continues to be, editor of The Navhind Times. Teotonio seemed at first mildly intrigued by this person's interpretation of the Goanness of Goans. But then the historian also revealed a resigned bitterness about what else he perceived in the journalist's prose. "One wonders," he wrote later, "if to be wholly Indian one has to chew 'paan' and spit it all around, or replace T-shirts or G-shorts with kurta-pajama or safari suit."
It is part of a misguided mission which propagates itself apparently tirelessly and without mercy – that there are caricatures which continue to be attributed to Goans. Very often, they are invented by bureaucrats and self-styled "professionals" who want to teach Goans to be less easy-going or less un-Indian. I suspect that one Manohar Parrikar, the current Big Wheel in the circus that is Goa's government of the day, is just as keen to socially re-engineer the Goan masses. Nor is he the first, nor most zealous of those who have wished to do so.
The trouble for the correspondent in Goa – zealous or cantankerous or otherwise – is that one never seems to escape the impression that, in a certain way, de-colonisation has not yet been digested. It is not that the departure of the Portuguese is regretted (there are exceptions, of course) but the question of why, Portuguese colonisation remains so strenuously berated. How is one to internalise this truth, seek to convey to our readers the paradoxes that abound in our reading of this beautiful, bewitching 'aparanta'? How can one negotiate for oneself the editorial space to do so?
I do not mean this to be a disheartening preface for the hapless correspondent who finds herself deposited in Goa, without the benefit of an immediate acquaintance with Peter's (St Inez), Joao's (opposite the now notorious Hotel Neptune), or Martin's (whose staff has long since relapsed into slumber). Given the dismal state of the print media in India today, the days of the full-time state correspondent seem to be distant memories (my friend and comrade Prakash Kamat has on the other hand proven to be remarkably resilient!).
The simple truth is that the "Goan culture" that is so venally peddled aboard the tourist boats that shamelessly and noisily ply the Mandovi off Panaji (how I wish they would cease) is far from easily definable. Cultures never do remain isolated or static, and certainly not the seaborne cultures of which Goa, Govapuri, Gopakapatnam, became a part.
And it is indeed true that the mechanism which supported the 'Estado de India' nourished a very unique place, one which internalised the life-affirming concept behind a word redolent of the very essence of Goan-ness, a word that resounds with wisdom – sussegado.
Chapter 17: Why Konkani failed its readers…
Raju Nayak
Raju Nayak, one of the home-grown products in journalism that Goa can take pride in, has worked on the newsdesks of mainstream Marathi newspapers in the media-capital of Mumbai, has edited the Sunaparant in a tumultous period (as this essays shows) and today tells the story through the Indian Express to the ire of politicians who would like a more flattering image to be put out. Together with Devika Sequeira, he is behind the recently launched and yet-unnamed forum that meets monthly to discuss issues of relevance and concern to the media profession.
If I am told to evaluate Marathi and Konkani journalism in Goa, I would surely rank the Marathi media ahead of its Konkani counterparts.
Despite of it being accused of creating a rift between Hindu and Catholic masses over the issue of Goa's merger with Maharashtra in the 1960s and 1970s, the Marathi press has managed better to maintain the standards of journalism. The Marathi media in Goa has all along borne the torch of social activism, by backing the cause of the 'bahujan samaj' or the backward communities, and also fought hard to expose corruption in Goa's polity.
In comparison, the Konkani press hopelessly failed to live up to people's expectations. The only Konkani daily, Sunaparant failed to instill journalistic values in the Konkani media. The newspaper, which was originally set up to promote Konkani, never became a complete newspaper in its own right. Rather it has become, in recent years, a platform for sections of the Konkani language activists in Goa. The Konkani press in general abjured professionalism in order to cosy up with the political party in power.
On the other hand, the Marathi press was infused with a new vitality following the launching of several new publications at regular intervals. Gomantak, Tarun Bharat, Navaprabha and Rashtramat have been product of Marathi journalism flourishing in this Konkani-dominated state.
A glance at the circulation figures of these dailies unearth the story behind the real tastes of Goan readers. It is estimated that Marathi newspapers collectively sell more than 50,000 copies per day. In comparison, the sole Konkani daily sells less than 500 copies per day.
The Goan newspaper reader's search for quality has resulted in Tarun Bharat, for long published from Belgaum, becoming the state's highest-read daily, pushing even the market leader Gomantak to second place.
The success of Tarun Bharat stems from its management's professional approach to journalism. With a wide network of young stringers without any ideological orientation spread across the state, Tarun Bharat provides comprehensive coverage of Goa like no other newspaper sold in the state. Tarun Bharat also ushered in winds of change in the Goan media with supplements and booklets to cater to popular tastes. While cannibalising a large chunk of Gomantak readers, Tarun Bharat also attracted new readers from among the youth and women, thereby revolutionising Marathi journalism.
Gomantak's management never realised the threat posed by Tarun Bharat till it was too late. In my opinion, the Gomantak management's lackadaisical attitude towards its readers worked in favour of Tarun Bharat. For instance, Gomantak's staff strength is higher than Tarun Bharat's, but most of them are concentrated only in Panaji.
Tarun Bharat also invested heavily in news gathering operations. Apart from widening its correspondents' network, the newspaper also equipped them with amenities like fax machines and cameras. Tarun Bharat also set up district-level bureaus and local offices all over the state as a strategy to source local content.
(Tarun Bharat then managed to steam-roll even smaller newspapers like Rashtramat which lost its readership base. Despite the backing of powerful industrialists in Goa, Rashtramat lost out despite its history. The newspaper, which swayed Goan thinkers during the Opinion Poll, failed to instill a sense of professionalism. Rashtramat is now trying to capture lost ground with hard hitting editorials by Sitaram Tengse, besides addition of supplements.)
Gomantak's failure in the face of Tarun Bharat's onslaught is an example of how a market leader can fail by sitting on its laurels. The Gomantak was originally started in Goa to advocate the state's merger with Maharashtra and furthering the cause of the Marathi language. Gomantak owed much of its success to its former editor, Madhav Gadkari. By the own admission, Gadkari gave Gomantak a Hindu face and supported the cause of Marathi through his speeches. Mr Gadkari's enthusiasm, foresight and hard work were instrumental in the growth of Gomantak. The newspaper's circulation shot up from 3000 copies per day to 15,000 copies per day and kept growing. His successor, Narayan Athavale, known for his inimitable style of writing, kept up Gadkari's legacy.
Madhav Gadkari has been always accused of fostering pro-Maharashtra sentiments, fueling the language controversy and creating disharmony between Goa's main Hindu and Catholic communities. Konkani protagonists continue to level these allegations and suspect that Gomantak is still aiming to merge Goa with Maharashtra. Gadkari admitted that he had come to Goa to campaign during 1967 elections. Though initially he was not the editor, he used to write regularly for Gomantak. In all Gadkari spent ten years in Goa.
Despite being labelled an outsider, the Marathi press in Goa owes its professionalism to Gadkari. He turned Gomantak into a platform for the Goan bahujan community. He started the Shiv Jayanti celebrations in Goa and, in his tenure of 10 years, he fought several intellectual and political battles.
To begin with Gadkari was very close to Goa's first chief minister, Dayanand Bandodkar. The relationship proved profitable, with Bandodkar leaking several stories to Gadkari that were published prominently in Gomantak. Later on, the two fell out, and Bandodkar stopped government advertisements to Gomantak. Bandodkar went on to accuse Gadkari and the Gomantak of vitiating communal harmony in Goa, in a complaint to the Press Council of India.
Gadkari believed that in the Vishal Gomantak (a 'greater Goa' state that included within Goa areas outside its current boundaries) he envisaged, the rift between Hindu and Catholic communities in Goa would be solved peacefully.
Gomantak has played a big role in the development of Marathi in Goa, by creating two generations of writers and journalists in the state. In contrast, the Konkani media failed to create an intellectual constituency in the state.
In Sunaparant
During my tenure as editor of Sunaparant, between 1989 and 1995, I strived to inject some amount of professionalism in the newspaper. Unfortunately, I did not receive the needed support from the stalwarts of the Konkani movement. They never wanted the Sunaparant to become a professionally-run publication. My efforts faced severe opposition and I personally went through acute stress.
Purshottam Kakodkar, Uday Bhembre and his group led the movement against me. With the help of Congress politician, and former chief minister, Ravi Naik, they managed to have Uday Bhembre installed as Chief Editor of the daily. Unfortunately, Uday Bhembre never had the time for this newspaper. He just concentrated on how to sabotage my attempts to professionalise the newspaper.
During my tenure, Sunaparant had the best of supplements on Diwali and other occasions. We even managed to bring out special evening editions during Iran-Iraq war. Sunaparant's campaigns during the agitations against the Konkan Railway and Nylon 6,6 projects was followed up by other newspapers in Goa.
We even started a fund raising drive during the 1990 Shiroda canoe disaster and helped restart the ferry service. In addition, more than 20 books compiling different articles, investigative series, fiction and a dictionary was published during my tenure.
Only readers will tell whether during his eight years tenure Uday Bhembre had taken up even a single issue and fought it out till the end. Readers acutely felt the non-professionalism of the product during Bhembre's period.
Bhembre held the position as Chief Editor for eight years later when the newspaper had but lost all its base. Sunaparant is owned by a mine owner and hence protection of corporate interests, rather than the fostering of Konkani, has played a big role in Bhembre's continuation as Chief Editor at Sunaparant.
In the end, Bhembre had to go after running a series of editorials against Chief Minister Manohar Parrikar. Until then, the owners of Sunaparant were oblivious of Bhembre's lethargy, inefficiency and inactivity that took an immense toll on the newspaper. An example: during his tenure, Bhembre failed to call even a single meeting of staff reporters, let alone stringers.
Once again, Dattaraj Salgaocar, owner of Sunaparant, has recently made up his mind to re-build and re-launch the newspaper on a commercial basis. This is a welcome step. Whatever may be the language of newspaper – the language is merely a tool for communication – its success depends on the information provided, in-depth analysis and its commitment to important issues.
In an effort to make Sunaparant a 'mouthpiece' for Konkani, Bhembre seems to have overlooked all these issues. This is precisely why Bhembre had to seek the support of a newspaper like The Navhind Times to counter the likes of Jaisingrao Rane, despite heading Sunaparant himself.
Needless to add, such incidents have proved detrimental to the cause of Konkani. Almost 45 years ago, Konkani protagonists had to depend on the crutches of Marathi newspapers to enhance their cause. The situation is no better today, largely due to the apathetic nature of the leaders of the Konkani movement.
Vital ingredients
In my opinion, the major requirements for a successful daily newspaper are: a state-of-the-art establishment, a steadfast commitment to the reader, comprehensive coverage of all sections of the society, and the ultimate aim of becoming the voice of the Goan populace.
Sadly, all these factors remained low on the priority of Konkani protagonists. Professionalism was never on their agenda. With an eye on the leadership of the Konkani movement, the likes of Bhembre used the newspaper to carry out attacks against all his opponents during the elections to the Konkani Bhasha Mandal.
Bhembre has still not given up. He is now on the advisory board of the soon-to-be-revamped Sunaparant. This move obviously suggests the intention of halting the progress of the restructured newspaper.
When I took over as an Editor of Sunaparant, Uday Bhembre, then editor, was asked to vacate his post. Not surprisingly, this angered Bhembre. Some of his friends, who had been pampered with free publicity, continuously worked against me.
To illustrate how this worked, one can cite here the example of columnist Dilip Borkar whose satirical column "Borkari", on various ills plaguing Goa, gained all-round popularity. Borkar had even even taken humorous digs at me through his writings. But, that apart the column was a masterpiece as regards its content and the lucidity of the language was concerned.
But it hurt a number of people, and added them to my list of enemies. Uday Bhembre, on taking charge as the Editor, stopped this column and replaced it with another one penned by one of his supporters. However it did not find favor with the reader and failed miserably.
Much of my work at Sunaparant – like a supplement on business, in-depth analysis of important events, expert views and analysis by experts in relation to important events, a well compiled Sunday edition – continues with little change.
Dattaraj Salgaocar himself admitted that Sunaparant had become popular with readers, but reactions from politicians made him restless. It may be recalled that Sunaparant had mercilessly attacked Ravi Naik for usurping the chief ministerial gaddi (throne).
Dattaraj, being close to Naik, could not digest this criticism. What seems to have irked Salgaocar was Sunaparant's highlighting, on its front-page, the news of the nomination of Vasant Pilgaonkar (a family friend and close aide-cum-adviser of Ravi Naik) as the Goa Public Service Commission chief.
Strongly retaliating against this, Dattaraj called for a meeting at Pilgaonkar's residence. And Pilgaonkar, at this meeting, lectured me on journalism. A decision to name Uday Bhembre as the Chief Editor was finalised. Interestingly, Bhembre is a relative of Pilgaonkar and close to Ravi Naik.
Bhembre got a dose of his own medicine when Manohar Parrikar took over as chief minister. On realizing that Bhembre refused to toe his line, Parrikar publicly blasted him, and, in turn, Sunaparant. The age-old tradition of industrialists supporting the government came into play here. By the same token, Salgaocar unsurprisingly supported Parrikar.
Most importantly, the group of journalists close to Parrikar is now getting attracted to Sunaparant. According to the grapevine, the government is doling out a largesse of Rs 50 lakhs (five million rupees) by way of advertisement revenue to Sunaparant. How can a newspaper which expects revenue in the form of advertisements from any incumbent government remain loyal to its reader?
I believe, a Konkani daily has to follow an independent line to succeed. It has to protect the interests and self-respect of all Goans. In the process, a newspaper like Sunaparant should not hesitate in stepping on the toes of a section of the Konkani protagonists. Whoever edits the newspaper should realise that a news item killed by Sunaparant would be grabbed by the Marathi and English-language press.
Any sort of defalcation, even if it pertains to the darling of Konkaniwadis meaning the Goa Konkani Academy or Asmitai Pratisthan, should necessarily find an important place in the pages of this newspaper. And that too, before any rival publication vigorously pursues the issue. Various issues like the efficiency of the teaching community, the state of education institutions, or the pathetic condition of Konkani in schools, have to be taken up with missionary zeal. Only a relentless pursuit of such issues will take Sunaparant to the masses.
Lessons to be learnt
It could probably draw on the lessons from the Marathi press . It holds Marathi dear to its heart, without in any way making reference to the Marathi movement. At a time when veteran journalists like Gadkari and Athavale forcefully argued the cause of Marathi, it was done without prejudice to other issues of social and political importance which continued to find place in their newspaper.
Gomantak was always on the forefront in fighting alongside Goans on vital issues that cropped up from time to time. In my opinion, although Tarun Bharat has a greater circulation than its immediate rival Gomantak, I would still give full marks to the latter for its vigorous fighting spirit.
During my involvement in the student agitation, despite it being ideologically oriented towards our policy and mindset, Rashtramat did not entertain us. On the contrary, Gomantak, while holding diametrically opposite views, gave us wide publicity. Further support was found in the editorials. It has been the policy of Rashtramat and Sunaparant to always be on the side of the Establishment.
The roots of the decline of Sunaparant lies precisely in this same policy. It has always given a wide berth to any agitation. Given the fact that Sunaparant is a Konkani daily, it does not necessarily mean that all literature pertaining to and written by Konkani litterateurs has to find a mention in it.
Sunaparant has to nurture, cultivate and discover new journalistic talent. I was instrumental in encouraging Marathi protagonists to write for Sunaparant. As a resultantly, Sunaparant found readers among the supporters of Marathi as well. Such efforts have to be repeated.
To live long, Sunaparant has to sell. The issues highlighted by the newspaper have to be discussed, and a conducive atmosphere in favor of the newspaper needs to be created. Is this too much to expect?