Slide by Mica Costa-Grande
Just like a boxer who, leaning against the ropes, waits for the final bell, the time granted by destiny for the Portuguese presence in Macao is about to run out.
That presence has lasted over four centuries, and opinions about the value of our engagement in such a distant land diverge passionately:
"We have not done things the right way."
"We could not have done better."
In order to evaluate the success or failure of our acts, there is perhaps no more appropriate object of analysis than the city we are handing over to China.
What city is that, then?
The answer to this question is complex, since we cannot talk solely about one Macao, but about two of them, the current one and the one from the past, so much has the growth of the old one changed it over the last 20 years. I am inclined to say that, above all, the city of today lacks a soul, a prevailing personality that would characterise it and make it unique - a soul that it once had, but which has now been lost.
Macao has never been a completely harmonious body. It is said that today it is just like every other city that, in the blink of an eye, is built from scratch; that wandering through its modern neighbourhoods is a nightmare; that traffic does not work and that security is an object of concern. This might all be true, yet even in the old times, when it was the so-called mythical city of the Portuguese-style cobbled streets, sleepy and still, with the Guia lighthouse up on the horizon to welcome the few tourists who strolled along its streets in white suits and colonial hats, it already encompassed, within itself, conditions of notorious social injustice. But those who would stroll in the shade of the trees along the long, winding riverside walkway, who would get lost in the mazes of the port zone, who would pass by its mansions full of unnecessary columns, could easily acknowledge that they were in the presence of a cultural jewel, born from the co-operation of two peoples who met there and, on a "now you, now me" basis, gradually shaped it.
And such parenthood was as valuable as we know it to be unique. In fact those two communities, who have passed each other in the streets for more than four centuries, have never become actual friends. The relationship between the Chinese and the Portuguese has never gone beyond a state of indifference. China has always been suspicious of us, our behaviour, our tricks, our calculated promises and, after living by our side all these years, still does not understand us, does not trust us and -may I say so - does not accept us.
In turn, we have never fallen in love with the Chinese, since we are more inclined to the immediate and easy relationship we have with the southern peoples from Africa and Brazil.
In that context, it is easy to accept that, after those four centuries given to us by fate, there are no fruits reaped from the co-operation between both peoples, that we have not had a single Sinologist nor have the Chinese had a researcher of our affairs. There have never been attempts, by us or by them, towards mutual understanding. No mutual influence has ever been reported in the various cultural fields, whether in painting, music or literature. The so much talked-about relationship between the two communities is, as I see it, no more than a cosmetic construct for political purposes.
And so we go back to my earlier point: that desert of misunderstanding has been broken at a single point: the building of the city. It is certain that, even here, one cannot talk about equal co-operation. Urban planning decisions, if we can call them so, were our efforts: a church here, a fort there, and beyond, a street connecting this point to that one. But the sketch of almost all of the buildings belongs to the Chinese.
Although uneven with regard to the time of intervention and the scale of decisions, the building of Macao takes on the extraordinary cultural importance of being the only act jointly generated, the only child of an age-old intercourse between two communities. The physical city, its streets, its houses, its gardens, its scale, its character, would thus be an unrepeatable legacy in the lands of Cathay, an unprecedented cultural product, never seen in any other field.
Its preservation or, at least, some respect for the maintenance of certain key traces, should have been one of the major concerns of the administrations it was entrusted to. The fact is: it has not been so, despite some efforts with that aim, such as the pioneering actions of Governor Garcia Leandro.
As of the mid-60's, Macao witnessed the destruction of one of its main assets: the long and gorgeous row of mansions that bordered the Praia Grande Bay, from S. Francisco Garden to Meia Laranja, particularly in its most urban part, between the Palácio do Governo (Governor's Palace) and the Public Offices. It was a sign, which could have been only a warning, that the old city was on a razor's edge.
In the expectant pause that followed, that terrible calm which comes before a storm, a period of 10 years from the 60's to the mid 70's, three things occurred. There were three moments when luck knocked on the gates of the city's destiny, as if sent by the gods, to check and see if it deserved to remain unique and harmonious.
The first moment was when the government decided to take advantage of the area of reclaimed land in the Outer Harbour, at that time covered with vegetable-gardens and shanty dwellings. Urbanisation of that vast zone would have been an example for the formation of a professional awareness and as an escape valve for the ambitions of builders, who were then beginning to act.
And the plans were designed. I know of four of them, one of which was brought to Macao in 1963, by a team of 6 architects, among them Manuel Vicente, who began then a stay which has lasted for 34 years! Although the plans were well designed, they were so indifferently received that none of them was ever carried out.
The second moment was the creation of the Committee for the Protection of Heritage. In the initial euphoria caused by the law that founded it, it seemed that the key values of the city were, from then on, assured.
But the constructors had already gained too much power for the government to control. With the shortage of land available in the reclamation zone and without any plan to regulate their actions, speculation had already taken over construction in the city.
When Professor Almerindo Lessa came to Macao, in 1974, fate sent to the old territory the last and most interesting chance for harmonious and consistent development with the unique atmosphere of its built environment: to make Macao into the university centre that was completely lacking in the region. Converted into a student campus, the old historic shell would begin to be filled up, not with gamblers and second class executives, but with students that would search for it in its universities, conservatories, concert halls, libraries, galleries, museums and theatres, located in the several mansions that would have come back to life and would again be in dialogue with the environment in which they were set. The Government, however, was not very enthusiastic about the professor's ideas and the initiative failed.
But fate was patient and - if I can recall from the conversations I had then with the old professor - gave the city a new opportunity, on a golden platter: UNESCO would be coming to Macao. They wanted to settle in the East and in Macao, as a neutral territory, they might be able to escape from the rivalries of the great powers in the region. But the government definitely was not willing to do that and closed the doors to the queries that began to be made.
The idea of "Macao - University Campus" would die ingloriously in the troubled 70's.
With these opportunities missed, there was nothing left to the administrations of Macao but to go whichever way the wind blew. By means of speculation, free from rules and conditions, the path was open and their hands were free to do whatever came into their minds.
How could that happen? Why, in those crucial moments, were the governments not blessed with luck? Why would they always fail to choose the right way?
In my view, men are not to blame. It is the fragility of governmental structures, only much later confronted, that is to blame. The scarcity, almost non-existence, of trained personnel was far too great for us to understand how it came to be. Hospitals without doctors, buildings without architects, a Finance Department without economists, radio stations without deejays, newspapers without journalists, courts without judges, a navy without sailors, and schools without teachers. All these lacks were felt in Macao when I arrived there in 1973.
"For those living in Macao, the spectacle of the Portuguese Administration is obvious. One can live in a big city and not have a definite idea of how its administration is organized. The size of the city, the kind of life it provides, the distractions it has to offer, all can blur the perception of the networks in which one is involved. In Macao that is not possible: reality is immediately evident and human failings are dramatically clear, as is the disproportion between duties and the people who carry them out. Instead of the thousand brains per task proposed by Paolo Soleri, we have a thousand tasks per brain. And, after months during which the architect designs, makes photocopies, folds photocopies and does his own filing; during which the doctor operates on brains, gives injections for the flu and changes dressings; during which the maths teacher also teaches geography and, if necessary, choral singing, we can only find ourselves, one grey day, wondering if this situation is the cause of the famous Portuguese ability to improvise, or if these conditions are not a possible explanation for the poor quality of their work.
What can a surgeon do when not assisted by a radiologist, analyst, anaesthetist and nurses? What can a tenor do without at least the accompaniment of a pianist? What good is a town planner without the sociologist and the economist?
In Soleri's words: couldn't there be too much skin for such a small body?"
These are the words I wrote, as soon as I arrived, for the "Notícias de Macau" newspaper, at that time run by José Maneiras.
I recall when governor Garcia Leandro fell sick and needed medical care, and his chief of staff spent the whole day calling Hong Kong, trying to find the anaesthetist who had gone there for the day because there was no other in Macao!
I recall a meeting with a delegation of American technicians who had come to present an airport design in 1975: architects, engineers and economists, carrying large briefcases, full of calculations and plans - and, on the other side of the huge table, to receive the project, governor Garcia Leandro, the head of the Development Services and... me: people who, when it came to airplanes, only knew that they flew and sometimes crashed.
I recall huge boxes delivered to the Macao Library, loaded with the latest published works from Lisbon, which remained in a stack for months on end, since there was no one to open them or even read them...
I recall pianist Andor Foldes, whom I knew from his beautiful recordings of Debussy, having played in a room for an audience of 10 people.
I recall, at 6 p. m., the noble doors to the Palácio do Governo (Governor's Palace) being closed with wooden bars, as if it were but a village store.
These dramatic situations, this lack of people in the administration, was only alleviated when Admiral Almeida e Costa took office, when dozens of technicians came to the territory to staff its impoverished teams.
But it was already too late for the city - the only product of Luso-Chinese co-operation. It remained for the following administrations to accept the leadership of businessmen and to act only in large enterprises, airports, bridges and ports.
What about the city? There it stands.
Beautiful? Loveable? Warm? Harmonious?
Or disorderly, chaotic, inconceivable, vicious?
It is time to settle accounts.
Translated from the Portuguese by PHILOS - Comunicação Global, Lda. www.philos.pt
*Graduated in Architecture in 1961. In 1964, together with his team, he won the national contest for the Bragança Cathedral. From 1961 to 1969, he worked for the GTH, Lisbon, on projects for Olivais and Chelas. In the four following years, he worked in Lourenço Marques (Maputo), where he designed the building of the Portuguese Embassy in Mozambique. From 1973 to 1990, he worked in Macao, where, as of 1982, he ran the Cultural Activities Department of the ICM.
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