Original Marathi article: Father Santush
Originally published in: Kadbole
Writer: Atmaram Jog
Translator: Dhananjay Jog
High up on a tall mountain, from a small hole in a rock emerges a flow of water as thin as one’s little finger. This small stream, sometimes joined by others like it, eventually turns into a wide, miles-long, and deep river by the time it reaches the plains and eventually meets the ocean.
A country’s fight for freedom also starts similarly. A small set of aspirations and ideas originating in one thinker’s mind incites his followers into action. From such single action rises a movement and from the movement emerges a huge revolution. In India’s case one can be proud of the fact that the revolution was largely non-violent and yet it enforced the British to depart in 1947.
In Goa’s case, the first major spark for liberation was ignited by Dr. Ram Manohar Lohia in 1946 at Madgaon. Inspite of a ban on a public meeting, he addressed a large gathering, fearlessly demanding Goa’s freedom from occupation and asked the Portuguese to quit. This was a major milestone in the lengthy road towards Goa’s freedom. Soon thereafter, the Ministry of External Affairs of the Government established a small Intelligence Division of the Criminal Investigation Department (C.I.D.), its primary objective being Goa’s liberation. It was headquartered at Bombay with a Branch in Belgaum. A senior Military official, Major General Handoo, designated as an Inspector General of Police headed it.
In 1956, I happened to be at Satara, Maharashtra as ‘Reader-Sub Inspector’. Normally, this post has a longevity of two years. I had barely completed 10 months in August that year when I was informed of my selection to this ‘Goa Affairs’ Section of the Police. I was ordered to report to the Belgaum Branch. My wife had then just joined the college in Satara to continue with her education. I nowfaced a ‘Hobson’s choice’ – either asking her to quit college or to leave the family behind and proceed alone to Belgaum. At marriage time, my wife was only a matriculate. Now, after a 7-year gap, being interested in continuing studies, she had been admitted to college (Eventually, between the years 1950 to 1970, during the intervals after birth of each of our three children, she completed her BA, MA, Dip.Ed, B.Ed and M.Ed degrees). Hobson’s choice is the necessity of accepting one of two or more equally objectionable alternatives, sometimes also called the ‘Devil’s Alternative’. Of course, a third option existed- to try and cancel my transfer.
In present times, to obtain a transfer or to cancel one, it is the widespread and very deplorable practice to use the good offices of MLAs, MPs, or even ministers. This practice had sadly just started in 1956! But I belonged to the old school of thought, and did not choose this. Coincidentally, the D.I.G. (Deputy Inspector General), Belgaum range, happened to be on an inspection visit to Satara. (Belgaum was then in the erstwhile Bombay Province). I put up my problem before D.I.G. Mr. Shitole. The worthy officer said, “I appreciate your dilemma. But bear in mind that selection to the ‘Goa Affairs’ division is a feather in your cap. Note also that you were recommended for this personally by I.G. Mr. Nagarwala due to your proven capability in Intelligence Operations. No doubt you are aware of his reputation as an excellent Officer. But also beware that if you insist on cancelling your transfer, Jimmy happens to have a long memory. Think twice before you apply for cancellation.”
I had no intention to joust with Jamshed ‘Jimmy’Nagarwala. Not only was I incapable of this, but was sure that it would be my hands that would eventually be burnt. After all, I hoped to retire from the Police after a full term and not prematurely. I hence said to the wife, “Continue with your studies, complete this college year and then join me at Belgaum. I shall proceed.”
The responsibilities of this ‘Special Intelligence Cell’ included obtaining information of the political, financial and social situation in Goa. Also to collect data on the Portuguese military and police forces and their weapon capability; Help Goa’s freedom fighters; and gauge public perception vis-a-visthe Portuguese. To do this, I entered Goa undercover many a time, through the jungles on its borders. My official designation was that of the check-post in-charge at Majali on the Indian border. I had to make do with atrocious, unhealthy food available there. Goans then needed a ‘permit’ to enter India. At the check-post I met such entrants through whom I obtained information from within Goa.
…..And finally, Goa was liberated on 19th December 1961. As part of the Special Cell, I moved in with the first army platoons. The Goans welcomed us largely with happiness and respect, but understandably a twinge of fear. Houses vacated by the fleeing Portuguese officers were allotted to us.
Those Portuguese military and other personnel who could not flee and were captured were kept for a few days in a camp at Ponda, before being shifted by air to Karachi, Pakistan from where they went home to Portugal. The white-skinned Portuguese had been nick-named ‘Paclo’s by Goans. Most Paclos left, either fleeing our advancing army or with this second lot who were deported.
One of the few who stayed back was Father Santos. As he was a priest, the Indian Government, keen to maintain its peace-loving image let him stay. It was naturally assumed that as a ‘clothed’ man he would not engage in political or military activities. The Government, in its belief that politics and religion should not mix, thought he would believe so too.
I took up the designation of Inspector with the C.I.D.’s Intelligence Section. When a populace undergoes a change of regime – when one country’s authority is replaced by that of another, there is resistance from certain quarters. Those who benefitted, for whatever reasons, from the earlier regime are the unhappiest; even if the new regime is their own. This situation manifests itself more during the initial years of change. It was no wonder then, that a few in Goa too, had an affinity for Portugal and resentment against India. Part of my job was to identify such people, watch them and gauge what plans, if any, they have of action. This was a sensitive operation. I noted that among the small number of such people there were Catholics and Hindus too. Mixing with the latter was obviously easier as I shared their religion. But it would be a difficult task to be admitted and accepted among the Catholics.
I wanted to be admitted in these circles without being suspected. I hence embarked upon the learning of the Portuguese culture and language. After all, it is rightly said “In Rome, do as the Romans do.” In a planned manner therefore, I started participating in their social and religious functions. Without this, I could not have gained their trust. I accepted invitations and attended weddings, communions, and even funerals. I walked with them in religious processions and learnt etiquettes and table-manners that were different from those of the British. I observed their drinking habits and noted which wine went with which dish. I procured books and with the help of a teacher, learnt ball dancing – so well in fact that I won a few prizes.
Gradually and cautiously, pretending to talk in confidence, I started criticizing the Indian Government. This was my job as an Intelligence Officer and I proved to be efficient at it. Obviously, I carried these activities only among the Portuguese loving/India hating circles.
As a result, I faced the ire of some Goan leaders. An Indian policeman mixing and being friends with Portugal lovers; to the extent of eating, drinking and dancing with them could not be digested by some short-sighted politicians who thought these activities to be anti-India.
( To be continued…)
