September 20, 2024

Far East Currents

The Portuguese and Macanese Studies Project – U.C. Berkeley

2021: Pirates, Printers, Sportsmen, and Spies

To me this “blog” is a digital space to sketch out new ideas, and sometimes to celebrate events or express fears concerning the world around us. This may be a narrow definition, but bear with me. What has been difficult during the pandemic and the political turmoil of the last four years is finding the time and the concentration to express ideas while in relative isolation and at the same time seeking human connection through media.

This is a tension that I suspect others struggle with. Like many, I’m often on my phone or computer looking up the latest news, reading social media, answering text or e-mail, and generally trying to find some hope that things are getting better. This has been complicated for me personally, and I’m sure for others, as I also learned that some friends and relatives have been infected with the virus (they all recovered) or have mental health issues that may or may not be related.

I realize that many people are going through the same thing, but I hope our isolation allows us to look more closely at ourselves, not to obsess or to become overwhelmed by our fears, but to learn some lessons about truth and justice that we can incorporate and pass on to others.

Human nature is often defined by persistence and the ability to learn from our mistakes. But there are certain lessons that everyone should learn now: the ability to speak the truth, even if it is considered “fake news”, and to advocate for justice for all people, especially when we have the time and the opportunity to gather our thoughts.

Over the last year I’ve come to realize that my way of seeking truth has been writing things down in this blog, and developing those ideas into other forms. This has been, in many ways, a form of therapy. I’ve also noticed that each time I write something, no matter what else is happening that day, I feel comforted and derive a sense of satisfaction.

Many people probably have similar diversions to get through the current turmoil. This has been mine: a small haven, an island of repose perhaps, if for no one else but me. I may be overdramatizing, but it works for me, and has allowed me to move forward.

2020 in Review

If you look over my blog posts in 2020, for example, you’ll notice that I’ve generally used them to present some ideas about Macanese history and culture. Those ideas were then developed into longer articles on Academia.edu with source citations, and later edited and presented into a published book: The Macanese Chronicles.

This year I also added a new element that has been fun to develop: a short video on the same topic, which I hope to continue in the future. This process occasionally has been set aside to address other notable events, such as two articles on the defeat of Donald Trump and the election of Joe Biden and Kamala Harris in November.

I confess that this detour was based on my feelings about the damage to democracy and threats to truth, justice, and personal freedom over the last four years by the current administration. Even though such fears and anxieties usually appeared in comments and news articles on my social media posts, I felt compelled to write longer statements, including my interview with a Chinese newspaper and a review of events after the election, which were relevant to international readers. At the very least, these two blog articles suggest themes that are consistent with my previous writing.

In 2021 I want to go in a slightly different direction, related to the same themes in my historical and cultural studies. The addition of short videos may also be used to emphasize the cinematic and human qualities of the research that continue to fascinate me.

The new additions will be a sequel to my articles on Luso-Asian and Macanese history, and hopefully, a new edition to the Macanese Chronicles first published in 2020. The working title is:

Pirates, Printers, Sportsmen, and Spies

The next few months will be spent writing about these iconic Luso-Asians figures in different historical periods. There are numerous stories about people in each of these categories that bring out interesting qualities and patterns of behavior.

My general purpose will be to explore the development of each new “occupation” and the relation to cultural roles among Portuguese Asians that may provide another perspective on how this migrant group evolved alongside, and in some cases beyond, the influence of European colonialism.

Pirates, Printers, Sportsmen, and Spies existed throughout the history of Portuguese (Luso-Asian) societies, and corresponded to specific roles that often evolved over succeeding generations, while utilizing skills learned from being part of racially-mixed communities.

Such an inquiry could also offer evidence of attempts to secure personal freedom and liberation among this group following their departures, and in some cases, escapes, from colonial rule. The historical “ground”, in fact, had been prepared in advance to allow such roles to develop.

Unlike oppressive environments in Portuguese Goa, British India, and Spanish America, for example, where racial hierarchies, slavery, indentured servitude, and religious coercion were the norm, most of Southeast Asia from the early 16th century through the early 19th century was beyond the reach of European powers that attempted to enforce trading rules.

This was partially due to the distance between India and southern China and the logistics of early seafaring. But most of China and all of Japan also were intermittently closed to foreigners between 1500 and 1800. Only the Dutch succeeded for a short period in operating in Japan and Indonesia, while closing off Portuguese influence in the region after they captured Malacca in 1641.

In these circumstances, religious, economic, and political control over mestizos and indigenous groups by other European powers was greatly diminished in Southeast Asia, which remained under the “ambivalent” protection of Imperial China. (More on this later.)

As a result, trade and economic power flowed to independent New Christian (Jewish) and Luso-Asian traders, many who acquired and armed sailing ships, navigated the numerous seaports in Indo-China, communicated in local dialects, and crucially, developed relationships with indigenous merchants with access to resources such as silver, silk, spices, and precious stones. This gave rise to the first interlopers to regular trade, often called “Pirates” and later, “Country Traders”.

The Evolution of Cultural Icons

The term “pirates” has often had different meanings to different people. Among early Portuguese and British authorities, for example, the term usually identified rogues, raiders, and violent criminals who plundered their merchant ships. But among racially-mixed and indigenous peoples in the early modern period (17th century Asia) the same sailors and captains were looked upon as iconic figures who provided protection to isolated villages, stability, and a steady source of income.

Our perceptions of Captain Blood, Long John Silver, Blackbeard, and Sir Walter Raleigh have always been mixed with images of ruthless violence against authority, as well as an admiration for “swashbuckling” Robinhood-like figures who served the underclass. None of these seamen completely fit either stereotype. But our focus will lean toward the latter.

In actuality, a number of scholars suggest that several rouge captains sailing the South China Sea in the 17th and 18th centuries were the first commercial entrepreneurs in Southeast Asia. Some generated great wealth by filling a void in East-West trade in ports where Portuguese, English, Chinese, and Japanese merchants could not operate.

Collectively, these sea captains and their Luso-Asian descendants are credited with maintaining commercial relations in the region until formal treaties between nations were enacted, providing a critical link in the world’s first global economy connecting Asia, Europe, and the Americas.  

Later descendants of those “Pirates” often settled near the ports where their fathers (and sometimes mothers) previously disrupted colonial shipping, sometimes operating mercantile businesses, purchased land, or became local officials. When trading economies began to decline in the 19th century, some descendants learned other trades.

A significant number of Luso-Asians were trained as compositors, who later launched new careers as Printers and low level publishers. This transition coincided with a new era in which print communications became a key support of large scale commercial development just as port cities like Canton, Hong Kong, and Shanghai grew into merchant and financial centers.

The activity of many printers using modern presses led to the publication of government gazettes and local journalism, then to advertising, commercial packaging, government postage, and the printing of bank currency and script in Southern China.

A few successful printers also supported cultural and benevolent associations, which included venues for sporting activities, including tennis, track, soccer, cricket, baseball (softball), field hockey, and early motor sports. By the late 19th century, especially in Hong Kong and Shanghai, the era of Luso-Asian Sportsmen was in full swing, elevating several iconic figures from local families.

As World War II dawned, many of these young men with athletic backgrounds were recruited into Allied intelligence networks, often utilizing their skills in Asian dialects, business, education, and medicine to provide critical services as Spies and uncover operatives leading to the final victory. The links between sports and espionage during the war years provide some fascinating associations that have rarely been investigated.  

The evolution of these roles occurred over nearly five centuries in Southeast Asia, and offers several unknown accounts of human development and achievement. These accounts incorporate the collective stories of ethnic communities that have been largely absent from conventional histories of Asia, and often are relegated to forgotten files in various national archives.

Bringing these stories to life, and personally discovering the details of individuals and the communities in which they lived, in the final analysis, is usually half the fun.

I hope you’ll join me in this new adventure.