Campos de papel

Para quem já fez trabalho de investigação em História sabe do entusiasmo, das viagens e aventuras solitárias que se podem fazer dentro de casa, no silêncio do estudo. Contudo, a redacção de qualquer livrinho, por mais insignificante, envolve milhares de horas, resmas de fotocópias, centos de fichas anotadas, retocadas, corrigidas ou rasuradas de cima a baixo. Depois, há os livros comprados ou requisitados em bibliotecas, as obras de referência lidas e comentadas em glosas laterais, mais as fotos tiradas nos arquivos, os documentos em microfilme, as transcrições parciais de processos, os relatórios; um mar de papel que vai tomando conta de tudo, trepando pelas paredes, ocupando mesas, engrossando pastas. A aldeia de papel acaba por nos ocupar a casa.

Deitei-me às seis da manhã, já o sol brilhava. Foram dezoito horas de arrumação, concatenação de séries documentais, indexação e ordenamento cronológico das duas mil páginas de notas realizadas ao longo de dois anos. Foram duzentos e trinta e quatro livros, trezentos e setenta e dois documentos de arquivo, oitenta imagens e quarenta mapas. O tema que aqui me trouxe - as relações entre o Sião e Portugal (1782-1939) - queimou-me a vista. Dizia-se à boca cheia que tudo estava esgotado, que a documentação sobre o assunto fora há muito localizada. Ora, em Ciências Humanas, como em qualquer outra, não há temas esgotados. Encontrei nestes últimos meses vinte vezes mais documentação que aquela a que me habituara nos tais textos obrigatórios. Em Lisboa, em Banguecoque, em Macau e Phnom Penh, milhares de páginas aguardavam quem as lesse, as interpretasse e voltasse a dar vida.

Sei que para muitos tudo isto é coisa pequena, pois a opinião é inimiga figadal do estudo, o improviso irreconciliável adversário do método. O trabalho científico parte de suposições e corrige-se empiricamente no processo de acareação de fontes. Agora que se aproxima o início da redacção do tal livrinho que prometo para 2011, um imprevisto: descobri mais umas centenas de documentos de arquivo onde menos eseprava: na arrecadação de uma Secretaria de Estado. Retomar o trabalho, rever as incongruências, comparar notas feitas. Os campos de papel a que me submeti pedem mais trabalho !

Portuguese in Cambodia

Among with other documentation that I was able to locate in the National Archives of Cambodia, I found the complete files of employees of the Crown and servants of the French Resident Superieur. Records with marginal notes, correspondence, requests of information, promotions and punishments, rewards and penalties express the installation of the modern bureaucracy and the transition of an Asian patrimonial State to Modern Western State. Among dozens of files identified, stood out the the mixed Portuguese-Khmer who lived in the country since the Sixteenth century, there remained influential until the arrival of Pol Pot to power. There are generations of Monteiro's, Canto's and Albergaria's occupying positions of importance in the palatine administration and provincial offices, some clerks (translators and secretaries) others military officers, diplomats and even ministers. They were well-connected men, as evidenced by the letters of reference, with direct access to the King and the French resident, but also to the high-ranking Catholic representatives and, even, solid friendships in Macau, Singapore and France. It was a minority that nothing else could do than working for the Administration. As you read more carefully the report of Sir John Bowring - British governor of Hong Kong and plenipotentiary minister to negotiate a treaty with Siam (1855) - published in 1857 (The Kingdom and People of Siam), I found references to "Protuguet" working in the Court, like their Portuguese-Khmer brothers. Among them, Pascoal Ribeiro de Albergaria, quoted by all the diplomatic missions since the 1820s. He was a general of artillery, had a long and prosperous career, and everything indicates he was also master of court ceremonies. His body was buried in a Catholic cemetery in Bangkok located in Ban called Khmer (Khmer village). I asked one of his descendants, now senior officer working for Thai Foreign Office if he knew something about of his illustrious ancestor, but he gave me no satisfactory answer. By late afternoon yesterday, when I got home, I had a strange intuition, of those who violate the laws of rationality. If Albergaria's tomb is near Ban Khmer - might have something to do with the Khmer Portuguese came to Bangkok in one of the three waves of fleeing Cambodians arrived here between the late Eighteenth and early Nineteenth century. However, by chance, in the writings of a British diplomat who came to Bangkok in the 1820s, I found the link: Albergaria was descendant from Cambodians and his family established in Oudong - and then Phnom Penh - since end of 17th Century. He was grandson of a Portuguese man and a Anglo-Malaysian "half caste" lady named Lister, converted by marriage to the Catholic faith. The British envoys, always schown hight respect for him. Was said to be a handsome, highly intelligent and communicative person, much appreciated by the Siamese king and high ranked siamese officials under Rama III and Rama IV reigns. Pascoal was able to speak Siamese, Khmer, English, Portuguese and Latin languages, qualifications that provided him with an indispensable place in contacts with traders and diplomats who visited the kingdom. Next time when I visit his descendants, will bring them the good news. Now, in addition to Siamese and Portuguese ancestors, they will know that are also partially English and Khmer. The Albergarias were not the kind of adventurous "Portuguese in the wild" nor "people of bandel" those semi-literate and rude but fascinating men who settled a bit everywhere from India to Timor. These were literate and, by family name, belong to a small Portuguese nobility that left Europe in search of a new life.

The enigmatic flag of Mindon

I had seen the flag played in old British prints of the Nineteenth Century, but I confess do not have aroused curiosity, thinking to lag behind the creative freedom of illustrators. Some days ago I have found it in a book of memories of the last British military campaign in northern Burma (1885) : a picuture of banners captured in the days before the fall of Mandalay, the last home of the Konbaung dynasty. There is it, the enigmatic flag, on the floor with other trophies: a black cross on a red field.

That was certainly not the flag of the kings of the dynasty, but a military standard. Could have only to do with the existence of Christians in the ranks of Mindon's and Thibaw's armies. Today, while browsing the best website dedicated to vexicology, found it with the following footnote: "The flag shown here is the banner of the royal gunners, who were mainly Christian Portuguese descendants." Then simply compare it with the flag of the Franciscan Order and there was no confusion: the same symbol. As the Franciscans were the first Portuguese to settle in Burma (1600), that flag was, (could only be) wielded by Portuguese Catholics. The portuguese-burmese gunners and sappers had long and respected career under Taungoo and Konbaung dynasties and fought against the Siamese, the Malay, the French and the Dutch, to be ravaged by the British armies. In the final days of Mandalay, they were the last defense against the military expedition led by General Prendergast. A puzzle ist to be doing, piece by piece. It is fascinating to watch the progressive definition of the name of Portugal emerging from the puzzle of research. Everything has to do with everything. There is no Siamese record, an ornament, a picture or a simple iconographic detail from Cambodian, Burmese or Malay ducuments which are not related to the presence of Portugal in Southeast Asia. Portugal was still in the Nineteenth century knocking on the door of the Twentieth century, the great reference in this vast region between India and the Middle Kingdom.