The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong: A Century of Transimperial Drifting 9789048554089

Citation preview

The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong

Asian History The aim of the Asian History series is to offer a forum for writers of monographs and occasionally anthologies on Asian history. The series focuses on cultural and historical studies of politics and intellectual ideas and crosscuts the disciplines of history, political science, sociology and cultural studies. Series Editor Hans Hågerdal, Linnaeus University, Sweden Editorial Board Members Roger Greatrex, Lund University Angela Schottenhammer, University of Salzburg Deborah Sutton, Lancaster University David Henley, Leiden University

The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong A Century of Transimperial Drifting

Catherine S. Chan

Amsterdam University Press

Cover illustration: Club Lusitano gentlemen, c. 1900s Courtesy of Club Lusitano, Ltd., Hong Kong Cover design: Coördesign, Leiden Lay-out: Crius Group, Hulshout isbn 978 94 6372 925 3 e-isbn 978 90 4855 408 9 (pdf) doi 10.5117/9789463729253 nur 692 © Catherine S. Chan / Amsterdam University Press B.V., Amsterdam 2021 All rights reserved. Without limiting the rights under copyright reserved above, no part of this book may be reproduced, stored in or introduced into a retrieval system, or transmitted, in any form or by any means (electronic, mechanical, photocopying, recording or otherwise) without the written permission of both the copyright owner and the author of the book. Every efffort has been made to obtain permission to use all copyrighted illustrations reproduced in this book. Nonetheless, whosoever believes to have rights to this material is advised to contact the publisher.



Table of Contents

Acknowledgments 7 Prologue: Between Empires Drifting empires Contesting the ‘Macanese’ identity Cosmopolitan and transnational arenas A kaleidoscope of Macanese experiences

9 18 23 27 30

1 Crossing Imperial Borders The tightknit oligarchy A clerk, a businessman and a newspaper editor Channeling Macau’s woes into Hong Kong developments

43 47 53 61

2 Sandwiched in the Workplace The roots of the Macanese as ‘middle’ people D’Almada’s plight Grand-pré’s poor performance Port wine and new opportunities

75 79 82 87 91

3 Horseracing, Theater and Camões Strictly male, strictly rich, strictly colored Abraço fraternal (fraternal embrace) and Camões A stage for middle-class Macanese men

103 106 116 121

4 Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’ From Hong Kong to Lisbon to Shanghai Globalizing colonial Hong Kong The ‘Hongkong man’

133 138 143 151

5 Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite ‘Kowloon Macanese’ vs. ‘Hong Kong Macanese’ Nationalizing the ‘Portuguese of the East’ Contesting Macanese patriotism Por Deus e pela Pátria: Portuguese nationalism in Hong Kong Printing and disseminating diasporic nationalism

163 165 172 176 180 185

Epilogue: A Place in the Sun Being Macanese in wartime Hong Kong Rethinking identity as response Towards a world without labels

199 202 206 209

Appendix: Summary of Featured Macanese Individuals

215

Index 221 List of Figures Figure 1 Evelina Marques d’Oliveira and Thomas Herbert Edgar 15 Figure 2 Brian Edgar, 1950s and 1970s 16 Figure 3 Manuel Pereira, c. 1800 51 Figure 4 Leonardo and José Maria d’Almada e Castro 83 Figure 5 Map of Hong Kong, c. 1865 108 Figure 6 Club Lusitano Inauguration Ball, c. 1866 110 Figure 7 Montalto de Jesus in Washington, D.C., c. 1921 142 Figure 8 Report on war evacuation in The Hongkong Telegraph, July 1940155 Figure 9 Map showing Hong Kong’s Macanese institutions, c. 1941 181 Figure 10 Leaflet of Liga Portuguesa’s hymn 186 Figure 11 José Maria ‘Jack’ Braga’s wartime license to possess a weapon203

Epilogue: A Place in the Sun Being Macanese in wartime Hong Kong Rethinking identity as response Towards a world without labels

199 202 206 209

Appendix: Summary of Featured Macanese Individuals

215

Index 221 List of Figures Figure 1 Evelina Marques d’Oliveira and Thomas Herbert Edgar 15 Figure 2 Brian Edgar, 1950s and 1970s 16 Figure 3 Manuel Pereira, c. 1800 51 Figure 4 Leonardo and José Maria d’Almada e Castro 83 Figure 5 Map of Hong Kong, c. 1865 108 Figure 6 Club Lusitano Inauguration Ball, c. 1866 110 Figure 7 Montalto de Jesus in Washington, D.C., c. 1921 142 Figure 8 Report on war evacuation in The Hongkong Telegraph, July 1940155 Figure 9 Map showing Hong Kong’s Macanese institutions, c. 1941 181 Figure 10 Leaflet of Liga Portuguesa’s hymn 186 Figure 11 José Maria ‘Jack’ Braga’s wartime license to possess a weapon203

Acknowledgments My grandfather moved to Manila in his early twenties. He survived the Pacific War and later applied to become a Filipino citizen, only to be told that he was already a citizen by jus sanguinis. Despite his broken Tagalog, he happily assimilated into Filipino society. Reuniting with her parents, my mother made her way from Hong Kong to Manila in 1970. She disliked her time there but now looks back with delight and nostalgia. My father left Hong Kong in the mid-1970s for Samar to meet his stepbrother and then headed to Manila to explore business opportunities. I grew up in Manila and was raised with the understanding that Hong Kong was ‘home.’ Yet when I settled in Hong Kong as a teenager, I became lost in the city’s unfamiliar pace, language and culture. It took me years of reading and thinking, and some more moving, to learn that ‘home’ is wherever I can walk barefoot and identity is not a destination. This meant that while the fabrics of migration wove through my family’s narrative, the ways we laughed, cried, strove, changed and belonged greatly differed. The historical accounts in this book were thus put together with the idea that every individual has a unique narrative that should not be painted with the same brush. Every page of this book is filled with gratitude to the people that guided and accompanied me in the course of this project. The initial idea stemmed from Login Law, who suggested we collaborate on a conference paper about the Macanese so we could travel to Singapore for laksa. It was not until my doctoral research at Bristol that this project blossomed. My biggest thanks is for Robert Bickers who kindly guided my research and read my chapters with great patience. I will always cherish the ‘yuks’ and the time we spent discussing ideas at 13 Woodland Road. I also thank Su Lin Lewis for generously giving me advice and ideas that shaped the chapters in my doctoral thesis. Her monograph Cities in Motion was a great inspiration while writing this book. I am indebted to the Hong Kong History Project and the community of enthusiastic historians and friends at Bristol: Jason Chu, Tom Larkin and Kip, Vivian Kong, Chris Wemyss, Jiayi Tao, Rougang Li, Shawn Liu, Michael Sugarman and Josepha Richard for the discussions in the daytime and the drinks after sunset. I especially want to thank Katon Lee for not tiring of writing together in coffee shops and Gemma O’Neill for completing the happy trio. A part of this book was completed in Macau and Hong Kong. For this, I extend my thanks to José Luís de Sales Marques for validating my translations and passing on information useful to my research, as well as Patrick Rozario for connecting me to

8

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Club Lusitano and helping me acquire the photograph that became the cover of this book. One of the biggest challenges of this project was hunting for scattered sources. I am grateful for the invaluable help of librarians and archivists at the National Library of Australia in Canberra, the Arquivo Histórico Ultramarino and Arquivo Diplomático in Lisbon and the HSBC archives in Hong Kong. My visits to these and numerous other archives would not have been possible without the generous support of the Hatton Trust Fund, the Worldwide Universities Network, the Universities’ China Committee in London and the Start-up Research Grant of the University of Macau. I was fortunate enough to have come across unpublished sources that existed beyond the archives. I thank Ruy and Karen Barretto (and Summer and Min-toi) for their hospitality and for generously sharing family papers and photographs. I also thank Jorge Forjaz for the permission to use a photograph from Familias Macaenses and Stuart Braga for donating his family papers to the National Library of Australia and allowing me to reprint files from the Braga archive. I owe Brian Edgar (and Billy and Daisy) for sharing his experiences and permitting me to feature in this book photographs from his personal collection. For their encouragement and advice in this project, I want to express my thanks to John Carroll, William Clarence-Smith, Alfredo Gomes Dias and Ng Wing Chung. Their comments and suggestions have been crucial in the sculpting of ideas in this book. I owe thanks to my brother Arvin Chan (and Karen Lok) and Bernard Keo for reading my manuscript at an earlier stage, and Franco Lai and Loretta Lou for their advice on publishing matters. I owe Joey Tan and Fong Hoi Hoi (and Gut Tsai) for keeping me grounded while I worked on this project in Macau. I also thank Jaap Wagenaar and the production team at Amsterdam University Press. I am indebted to Vicki Blud for her careful editing of my manuscript and Saskia Gieling and Shannon Cunningham, who have both been patient and wonderful editors. Finally, I thank B and the UWG, my rays of sunshine. I dedicate this book to my grandparents and parents. Their courageous journeys to lands unknown have taught me to fearlessly embrace the world. Catherine S. Chan



Prologue: Between Empires Abstract The colonial histories of mixed-race diasporic communities have often been linked to narratives of policy discrimination, strategic collaboration and collective resistance. Deviating from these themes, the experience of the Macanese diaspora in British Hong Kong offers us an opportunity to observe the constructions of race, class and culture as more nuanced than the colonizer–colonized polarity usually allows. Through the lenses of transimperial migration, identity contestation and cosmopolitanism and transnationalism, the collective biographies of middle-class Macanese individuals in this book combine to demonstrate the resilience of mixed-race diasporic communities in the face of normative reality and uncover the liberties they exercised on foreign soil in the search for wider opportunities, a better life, social status and power. Keywords: transimperial migration, cosmopolitanism, transnationalism, collective biographies, Luso-Asians, diaspora

This is a book about mixed-race people that aims to look beyond skin color in understanding the construction of human lives and the evolution of diasporic communities within unequal, racialized and biased systems.1 It is a collection of narratives and snapshots of the Macanese, spread over a century, that speak of the power of individual aspirations, social networks, global developments and identity shifts in countering the challenges of settling in a British colony.2 As Luso-Asians born out of the Portuguese empire, the Macanese took root and propagated in sixteenth-century Macau. Their status as a mixed-race diaspora granted them resilience, allowing them to 1 Throughout this book, scare quotes will not be used in referring to race, mixed race and class or other relevant terms to recognize these as active and influential social constructs that have been institutionalized in our everyday experiences. 2 In Portuguese, Macaense. I use the English equivalent throughout this book except where alternative spellings are provided in quotations.

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_prol

10 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

shift between various cultural identities that transcended a single political unit, all while remaining as a marginal ‘Portuguese’ community in Hong Kong’s official records and public description.3 In a metaphorical sense, the Macanese continuously drifted, their movement driven by the currents of historical development and the tides of chance. This led to the flowering of various Macanese communities across East Asia by the early twentieth century, with settlements emerging in Hong Kong, Shanghai and Kobe; in Southeast Asia, the Philippines became a destination. While each experience marked a new set of practical challenges and institutional inequalities, the move from Portuguese Macau to British Hong Kong was particularly transformational. By the 1930s, Hong Kong sheltered the second-largest Macanese community, with more than a quarter naturalized as British subjects. The city also paved the way for the proliferation of unprecedented class and identity differences that ripped through the community, creating a division that lingers today. In this book, we problematize the idea of the Macanese as a heterogeneous and contested entity with the aim of challenging existing narratives that view colonialism as a prime factor in the shaping of the lives of colonial residents. Linked to a Portuguese colony yet living outside the control of the empire, the Macanese lived on the margins of more than one world and pledged allegiance to both the Portuguese and British administrations. Existing beyond one imperial space, they drew on the colorful imaginations of the Portuguese and British empires in responding to a spectrum of changes encompassing Macau’s woes, Hong Kong’s injustice, Portugal’s political transitions, global developments in print culture and the rise of new nationalisms during the interwar period. Diaspora transformed the urban terrain of colonial societies, creating polyglot worlds out of neighborhoods, workplaces, recreational clubs and public spheres. It was within these spaces that communities reimagined themselves and reshaped their public identities vis-à-vis the ruling whites’ emerging racialized perceptions of them. While the domiciled mixed-race children of European men and native women instigated colonial anxieties by blurring exclusionary lines, multiracial migrant individuals escaped racial restrictions through various forms of change. 4 A change in political 3 For the idea of mixed-race communities and transnationalism, see John Francis Burke, Mestizo Democracy: The Politics of Crossing Borders (College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002); Rebecca C. King-O’Riain, et. al. (eds.), Global Mixed Race (London: New York University Press, 2014). 4 For studies that highlight how colonial governments tried to manipulate mixed-race subjects through the lines of race, class, gender, marital status and/or age, see Ann Stoler, ‘Sexual Affronts and Racial Frontiers: European Identities and the Cultural Politics of Exclusion in Colonial

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

11

regime, for instance, often led to new chances of re-establishing oneself. When Portuguese rule over Malacca collapsed in 1641, the empire-abandoned Portuguese Eurasians convinced the succeeding Dutch administration to recruit them as intermediaries and trustworthy trade envoys. They simultaneously amplified their European cultural practices and knowledge of Malay culture and language.5 Change also came with moving from one colonial space to another. Upon reaching a new port, migrants harnessed old networks and new opportunities to climb previously inaccessible social ladders. Within the Portuguese empire’s prioritization of metropolitan Portuguese (reinois) over Asian-born pure Portuguese (castiços) and half-bred mestiços, so-called bastard sons of colonial officials and non-European women achieved social ascent after leaving for faraway destinations.6 The key, though, was to use their fathers’ nobility and colonial networks. Once shunned as the illegitimate son of a fidalgo colonial administrator and a mulatto woman from Pernambuco, António de Albuquerque Coelho used his father’s noble position and married a Macanese wife associated with the enclave’s oligarchy before becoming Macau’s Governor in 1718.7 Political regimes inevitably experienced fluctuations, yet mixed-race subjects pragmatically drifted between borders in search of change and social mobility. Through time, diasporic experiences diversified ethnic communities. Across the vast Portuguese empire, the movement of people generated various versions of Portugueseness. ‘Portuguese’ could refer to children born on Portuguese territory, a subject claiming allegiance to the monarchy, someone with Portuguese descendants, or simply a person living Southeast Asia,’ Comparative Studies in Society and History 34, no. 3 (1992), 520, 522–524; Stoler, Race and the Education of Desire: Foucault’s History of Sexuality and The Colonial Order of Things (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995). 5 Ronald Daus, Portuguese Eurasian Communities in Southeast Asia (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1989), 6–8; Dennis De Witt, ‘Enemies, Friends and Relations: Portuguese Eurasians during Malacca’s Dutch Era and Beyond,’ in Portuguese and Luso-Asian Legacies in Southeast Asia, 1511–2011, Vol. 2: Culture and Identity in the Luso-Asian World, Tenacities & Plasticities, ed. Laura Jarnagin (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2012), 261–262. 6 For the Portuguese empire’s racialized institutional framework and the prioritization of metropolitan Portuguese, see Miguel Vale de Almeida, ‘From Miscegenation to Creole Identity: Portuguese Colonialism, Brazil, Cape Verde,’ in Creolization: History, Ethnography, Theory, ed. Charles Stewart (London: Routledge, 2016), 110; Celsa Pinto, Trade and Finance in Portuguese India: A Study of the Portuguese Country Trade 1770–1840 (New Delhi: Ashok Kumar Mittal, 1994), 51–52. 7 Fidalgo refers to a Portuguese nobleman. For Coelho, see Charles R. Boxer, ‘A Fidalgo In The Far East, 1708–1726: Antonio de Albuquerque Coelho in Macao,’ The Far Eastern Quarterly 5, no. 4 (1946), 388; Charles R. Boxer, Fidalgos in the Far East 1550–1770 (Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1968), 203.

12 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

on Portuguese soil who had adopted certain Portuguese cultural characteristics.8 In contrast to movement within a singular imperial sphere, transimperial migration offered a whole new level of change as it allowed migrants to acquire new status and adopt foreign cultures. As Laura Jarnagin has pointed out, the biggest transformation for Luso-descendant communities came with their dispersal to British colonial cities in the nineteenth century. From Calcutta to Zanzibar, Portuguese descendentes flocked to British cities for advancement where some eventually became Anglicized, causing cracks in the community to emerge through identity and class differences.9 In Hong Kong, the Macanese stood at the fringes of the colonial government’s racial policies, which were directed mostly at the predominantly Chinese population and Anglo-British Eurasians, in order to safeguard European privileges.10 With the freedom to explore, a portion of the Macanese formed an alternative Anglicized community that eventually collided with Macau-born and/or more Portuguese-oriented Macanese residents. Apart from their British or Portuguese orientations, these two strands were different in a number of ways. For one, Macau’s Macanese embraced their associations with Chineseness, either by culture or descent, while Hong Kong’s Macanese kept their distance, perhaps due to the devalued status of being Chinese in early Hong Kong.11 The Hong Kong Macanese identified closely with Britishness. Leo d’Almada e Castro, the third generation of a Macanese family in colonial Hong Kong, emphasized his connection to the British when he said, ‘I have been a British subject since birth, likewise my father, who was born in Hongkong in 1876 […] My upbringing, education and lifestyle were British.’12 This poses a striking contrast with how Macanese poet Leonel Alves, born and raised in 8 António Manuel Hespanha, Filhos da Terra (Sons of the Land) (Lisbon: Tinta da China, 2019). 9 Laura Jarnagin, ‘Introduction: Towards Clarity through Complexity,’ in Portuguese and Luso-Asian Legacies in Southeast Asia, 1511–2011, Vol. 1: The Making of the Luso-Asian World, Intricacies & Engagement, ed. Laura Jarnagin (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2011), 11. 10 For the Hong Kong government’s policies on the Chinese, see Peter Wesley-Smith, ‘AntiChinese Legislation in Hong Kong,’ in Precarious Balance: Hong Kong between China and Britain 1842–1992, ed. Ming K. Chan (London: Routledge, 1994), 93–98. For policies on Anglo-Chinese Eurasians, see David M. Pomfret, Youth and Empire: Trans-colonial Childhoods in British and French Asia (California: Stanford University Press, 2016), 243–276. 11 For studies that tackle Macanese intermarriage with Chinese women in Macau, see Charles R. Boxer, ‘Macao as Religious and Commercial Entrepôt in the 16th and 17th Centuries,’ Acta Asiatica, Bulletin of the Institute of Eastern Culture 26 (1974), 66; Manuel Texeira, ‘The Origin of the Macanese,’ Review of Culture no. 20 (1994). 12 Leo d’Almada e Castro, ‘My Re-application for British Citizenship under Section 4 (5) of the British Nationality Act 1981,’ 15 October 1990, Ruy Barretto Family Papers, Hong Kong.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

13

Portuguese Macau, encapsulated his identity in the following verse: ‘My father was Transmontano, My mother a Chinese Taoist, I am, therefore, a Eurasian / One-hundred percent Macaísta. My blood has the bravery / Of Portugal’s bulls, Temper mixed with the softness / Of South China.’13 In the contemporary world, the heterogeneity of the Macanese continues to be reflected in deep-rooted presumptions about the ‘difference’ between the Hong Kong and Macau Macanese. I vividly remember a Hong Kong-raised Macanese recalling corporate soccer matches played in the 1970s, where the ‘Hong Kong boys’ swore to beat the ‘Macau boys.’ Being ‘British’ not only entailed a certain extent of status and wealth: it also paved the path for some Hong Kong Macanese to continue their journey to England. There, they often raised their children as Catholics, but with a strong British profile and little trace of their Macanese roots. Set more than one hundred years and four generations apart, the public narratives of Manuel Pereira and Cecil Pereira demonstrate the striking influences of migration and interracial union on the shaping of ethnic identities.14 Born in Carvalhais, Portugal, Manuel Pereira built a fortune after moving to Macau and joining the enclave’s Macanese oligarchy. Manuel’s grandson, as will be further discussed in the next chapter, moved to British Hong Kong and there cultivated bourgeois networks that eventually led to his marriage in England with a member of the Stonor family and eased his entry into the lower ranks of British nobility. Manuel’s great-grandson, Cecil Pereira, was born and raised in Britain. Cecil attended the Birmingham Oratory School and later served Britain in an expedition to Uganda and the South African Boer War of 1899 to 1902.15 For his service in the British army, he held several honors including the Insignia of the Order of the Brilliant Star of the Third Class, Companion (CMG) in the Chivalrous Order of Saint Michael and Saint George and Knight Commander of the Order of Bath (KCB).16 After 13 Transmontano refers to the northernmost region of Portugal. The original reads, ‘Meu pai era transmontano, Minha mãe china taoista, Eu cá sou, pois, euraseano / Cem por cento macaísta. Meu sangue tem a bravura / Dos touros de Portugal, Temperada co’a brandura / Do chinês meridional.’ Leonel Alves, ‘Sabem que sou?’ (Do You Know who I Am?) in Leonel Alves, Por Caminhos Solitários (By Lonely Ways) (Macau: Edição de autor, 1983), 29. 14 For an extensive study of the Pereira family’s migration, see Catherine S. Chan, ‘From Macanese Opium Traders to British Aristocrats: The Trans-imperial Migration of the Pereiras,’ Journal of Migration History 6, no. 2 (2020), 236–261. 15 John Henry Newman, A Portrait in Letters (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 575; ‘Foreign distinctions,’ The Standard, 24 June 1899, 5. 16 For Cecil Pereira’s military career, see Frank Davies and Graham Maddocks, Blood Red Tabs: General Officer Casualties of the Great War, 1914–1918 (South Yorkshire: Pen & Sword Military, 2014), 1953.

14 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

multiple migrations, the fourth generation of Pereiras had lost all traces of their Macanese past. While Manuel Pereira is remembered in history as a wealthy ‘Macanese’ businessman, Sir Cecil Pereira has been widely acknowledged as ‘British.’ So far, only Jorge Forjaz has documented Cecil as Macanese in his extensive genealogy of Macanese families.17 Transimperial diaspora thus presented Luso-Asians with the chance to undergo the most radical reconstruction in ethnic and public identities. The case of Evelina Marques d’Oliveira, who was born in Macau to a Macanese father and a Chinese mother, aff irms a similar pattern of constant identity negotiation and the gradual loss of Macanese roots in the process. After her father died in Fuzhou in 1939, Evelina D’Oliveira moved to Hong Kong during the late 1930s. There she would meet and marry Thomas Herbert Edgar from Hampshire. Thomas Edgar trained to become a baker around the country before he was offered a position as manager of Lane Crawford’s bakery in Hong Kong. It was during wartime that D’Oliveira and Edgar’s paths would cross and the couple married at St. Joseph’s Church on 29 June 1942 (Fig. 1). Five months after their eldest child, Brian Edgar, was born in October 1950, the family left Hong Kong for England. The Edgar children were brought up as Catholics and Brian was taught the Bible and theology from a young age. He remembers his mother as a devout Catholic who always attended masses, prayed every day and often undertook voluntary devotional practices. Her enthusiasm must have been infectious, as young Brian became quite a devoted Catholic, volunteering to attend religious lessons on Saturday mornings at a local convent.18 Brian Edgar was raised with the knowledge that his grandmother was Chinese and his mother Portuguese. Although she never taught him the Portuguese language, being Catholic made Brian feel ‘marginal’ when he started Grammar School in 1962. He recalled, ‘At Grammar School we Catholics had our own assembly while the rest of the school [being Protestants] had theirs. This religious thing was the main way in which I felt different to the others.’ His sense of marginality also came with being born in Hong Kong and having a Portuguese mother. Of fond childhood memories that show his mother’s Macanese background, Brian recalls that his mother ‘had no trouble with the images of Buddha and [the bodhisattva of compassion] Guan Yin (觀音),’ adding, ‘In fact, she gave me a red amber Buddha, which 17 Jorge Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 1st ed. (Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996), 989–990. 18 Brian Edgar, ‘Identity,’ email, 26 January 2021.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

15

Figure 1  Evelina Marques d’Oliveira and Thomas Herbert Edgar

On the left: Evelina’s passport photo with her signature. On the right: the couple’s wedding ceremony at St. Joseph’s Church, Hong Kong taken in 1942 (courtesy of Brian Edgar).

is my favourite Buddha.’ Growing up in England, nevertheless, led Brian to identify strongly with Englishness. He chose to study English literature in Oxford. During his first year, he gave up his Catholic faith and become an agnostic. When asked if his Eurasian ethnicity affected his self-perception, he replied: Strangely it didn’t. I never thought consciously about my ethnicity when I was young—I just assumed I was ‘white’ like almost everyone else I knew. Even when I was given a racist nickname at secondary school I didn’t feel I was really different to the other boys—everyone got mean nicknames so I didn’t think it meant anything.

From attending his first Catholic communion as an enthusiastic seven-yearold Catholic boy to graduating from Oxford an agnostic Englishman (Fig. 2), Brian Edgar’s experience similarly shows that identity can be a choice that is constantly being reshaped by the tides of time and circumstance.19 When speaking of mixed-race communities in colonial societies, we often conceive of the strategic manipulation of subjects along racial, gender, age and class lines. A strand of literature has shown how governments viewed the emergence of mixed-race subjects as a menace to colonial 19 Brian Edgar, ‘Identity,’ 2 February 2021.

16 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Figure 2  Brian Edgar, 1950s and 1970s

The photograph on the left shows young Brian Edgar attending his first Catholic communion at St. Edward’s Church, Windsor in 1957. On the right is Edgar (third from left) with his university mates during their graduation ceremony at Oxford around 1975/1976 (courtesy of Brian Edgar).

stability, prompting the formation of discriminative policies to manage this population and safeguard white privileges.20 In Indochina, the French found ways to neutralize imagined threats to white authority from abandoned Eurasian children.21 In India, the British colonial administration controlled the lives of Anglo-Indian men by providing them certain privileges but simultaneously restricting their career advancement. 22 This framework prompts us to acknowledge the significant role of colonial inequalities in the shaping of Eurasian communities and vice versa. While this book does not in any way deny the cruelty of colonialism and the experiences of oppression that colonized subjects endured, it aims 20 See, for instance, Durba Gosh, Sex and The Family in Colonial India: The Making of Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006). 21 Christina Firpo, ‘Crises of Whiteness and Empire in Colonial Indochina: The Removal of Abandoned Eurasian Children from the Vietnamese Milieu, 1890–1956,’ Journal of Social History 43, no. 3 (2010), 587–613. See also Stoler, Race and the Education of Desire. 22 Christopher J. Hawes, Poor Relations: The Making of a Eurasian Community in British India, 1773–1833 (New York: Routledge, 1996).

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

17

to return the voices and freedoms mixed-race diasporic communities possessed in building their lives on colonial soil. The Macanese grew beyond the colonizer–colonized dichotomy so often mentioned in colonial histories, harnessing what British Hong Kong could offer in terms of employment, network, political affiliation and the liberty to dream and to achieve. Rather than perceiving colonialism as a paramount factor that dictated the lives of people, I invite us to rethink colonies as burgeoning Asian port-cities from the inner worlds of voluntary migrants and their descendants. Certainly, Asia’s port-cities strove beyond their status as colonies and residents lived in a wider world of interconnected spaces.23 The dynamism of the port-city offered migrants the chance to rewrite their life stories as much as migrants helped invigorate colonial cities into multicultural worlds. Three major themes stitch this book together: transimperial migration, contesting identity and the colony as a cosmopolitan and transnational arena. On foreign land, mixed-race diasporic communities took on more than one identity and pledged allegiance to more than one empire. Their resilience allowed them to gain better tools for survival, especially in pursuing privileges that came with belonging to various cultural worlds. In British Hong Kong, the Macanese not only diversified in identity and class, but also existed in a web of networks that transcended the colony, the nation and the empire.24 Middle-class Macanese, in particular, took the freedom to reposition themselves in the Portuguese and British worlds depending on which affiliation yielded the most benefit. Those who were dissatisfied but could afford an exit had the option of returning to their homelands or continuing their sojourn in other cities. Their actions were more than mere responses to unjust colonial practices; the Macanese explored choices and made decisions in the face of normative reality. Ultimately, their struggles, pursuits and experiences in Hong Kong interwove the British and Portuguese imperial spheres through collective imagination and intercultural explorations. 23 For studies that have sought to challenge the colonizer–colonized dichotomy, see the concept of ‘cosmopolitanism’ in Su Lin Lewis, Cities in Motion: Urban Life and Cosmopolitanism in Southeast Asia, 1920–1940 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016); Bart Luttikhuis, ‘Beyond Race: Constructions of “Europeanness” in Late-Colonial Legal Practice in the Dutch East Indies,’ European Review of History 20, no. 4 (2013), 539–558. 24 In this book, the term ‘transnationalism’ refers to the flow of people, ideas, capital, culture and goods across national borders, with an emphasis on contact zones and networks beyond the nation. Katherine Pence and Andrew Zimmerman, ‘Transnationalism,’ German Studies Review 35, no. 3 (2012), 495.

18 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Drifting empires The histories of empire and diaspora have been knotted in several aspects. The movement of people from all around the world to colonial establishments created unprecedented encounters between European and Asian institutions, marked by exchange, stimulation, resistance and compromise.25 While living in foreign colonies, migrants explored affiliations linked to broader forms of hegemony and privilege. In the Portuguese imperial sphere, individuals capitalized on becoming ‘Portuguese’ by showing allegiance to the monarch, emphasizing Portuguese roots or constructing commercial ties.26 Non-Britons in British colonies found ways to enter the social worlds of Britons through sociability, interracial marriage and culture.27 For Britons, the British empire led to the construction of alternative forms of Britishness, which were then exported back to the metropole.28 From colonizers to migrants to sojourners, there was always more than one way of belonging to an empire as it became embedded in emerging individual and collective identity discourses. Having cultivated a sense of attachment to two or more empires, diasporic communities not only deployed fragments of their past and present in the course of forming public images, but they also transformed in line with changes in the hostland, the homeland and the fatherland. For the Hong Kong Macanese, this meant juggling attachments to the Portuguese empire and to the British empire through developments in Macau, Hong Kong and a distant Portugal. The Portuguese empire, which at its peak skirted the South American, African and Asian continents, carved an arena for intercontinental trade 25 Andrew Porter, ed., The Oxford History of the British Empire, Vol. III: The Nineteenth Century (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999); Marjory Harper and Stephen Constantine (eds.), Migration and Empire (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010); Susan Bayly, ‘The Evolution of Colonial Cultures: Nineteenth-Century Asia,’ in Porter, The Oxford History, 447–469. 26 Hespanha, Filhos da Terra. 27 Lynn Hollen Lees, ‘Being British in Malaya, 1890–1940,’ Journal of British Studies 48, no. 1 (2009), 77; Syed Muhd Khairudin Aljunied, ‘British Discourses and Malay Identity in Colonial Singapore,’ Indonesia and the Malay World 37, no. 107 (2009), 1–21; Valerie Anderson, Race and Power in British India: Anglo-Indians, Class and Identity in the Nineteenth-Century (London: I.B. Tauris, 2015); Vivian Kong, ‘Multicultural Britons: Britishness, Diasporas and Cosmopolitanism in Interwar Hong Kong,’ PhD diss., University of Bristol, 2019. 28 Robert Bickers, ‘Shanghailanders: The Formation and Identity of the British Settler Community in Shanghai 1843–1937,’ Past & Present 159 (1998), 161–211; Carl Bridge and Kent Fedorowich (eds.), The British World: Diaspora, Culture and Identity (London: Frank Cass, 2003), 5; Kent Fedorowich and Andrew S. Thompson (eds.), Empire, Migration and Identity in the British World (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013); Marie-Paule Ha, French Women and the Empire: The Case of Indochina (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014).

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

19

that contributed not only to substantial economic growth in the metropole, but also to the movement of aspiring Portuguese subjects along the empire’s networks.29 Despite the emergence of new paths to wealth in Portugal, the monarchy continued to prioritize aristocrats, noblemen and an elite oligarchy, barring men of humble origins from higher political positions and nobility.30 The empire’s rigid hierarchies prompted the ambitious to seek elsewhere: in the seventeenth century, individual traders and free agents who gained the Portuguese crown’s royal permission found an outlet in Portugal’s vast maritime network.31 After setting off, aspiring merchants took on ambiguous identities. Some, for instance, distanced themselves from Portugal when tension unfolded between Portugal and the Dutch East India Company (VOC).32 In Macau, some solteiro (bachelor) merchants successfully integrated into the bourgeois Macanese community, usually through marriage and/or business networks, and subsequently gained prominence and status that could have otherwise been unattainable in Portugal. As the Portuguese monarchy had been reduced to a feeble state by the seventeenth century, they controlled the Portuguese enclave through the local câmaras (councils). Left to their own devices, Macau’s merchant elites built a local imperium in imperio, concentrating power, status and wealth within a small oligarchy. Those outside the circle, needless to say, drifted where prospects looked more promising. The formal establishment of British Hong Kong in 1842 opened the doors to the first Macanese diaspora. Up until the Second World War, Hong Kong 29 Leonor Freire Costa, Nuno Palma and Jaime Reis, ‘The Great Escape? The Contribution of the Empire to Portugal’s Economic Growth, 1500–1800,’ European Review of Economic History 19, no. 1 (2014), 1–22. 30 For social mobility in Portugal, see Nuno Gonçalo Monteiro, ‘Elites locais e mobilidade social em Portugal nos finais do Antigo Regime’ (Local elites and social mobility in Portugal at the end of the old social regime), Análise Social 32, no. 4 (1997), 335–368; Nuno Gonçalo Monteiro and Pedro Cardim, ‘La diplomacia Portuguesa durante el Antiguo Régimen: perfil sociológico y trayectorias’ (Portuguese diplomacy during the old regime: sociological profile and trajectories), Cuadernos de Historia Moderna 30 (2005), 7–40; Tiago C.P. dos Reis Miranda and Bruno Feitler, ‘Apresentação—hierarquias e mobilidade social no Antigo Regime: os grupos intermédios no mundo Português’ (Presentation—hierarchies and social mobility in the old regime: intermediate groups in the Portuguese world), Revista de História (São Paulo) 175 (2016). 31 Leonor Freire Costa, Império e grupos mercantis: entre o Oriente e o Atlântico (seculo xvii) (Empire and mercantile groups: between the Orient and the Atlantic (seventeenth century)) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2002); Cátia Atunes, ‘Free Agents and Formal Institutions in the Portuguese Empire: Towards a Framework of Analysis,’ Portuguese Studies 28, no. 2 (2012), 173–185. 32 Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political History (West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons, 2012), 255–275.

20 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

served as a home for thousands of Macanese migrants and their descendants.33 Some used the colony as a stepping-stone for better opportunities in Shanghai, Manila or Japan. As early as the mid-nineteenth century, fifteen percent of Shanghai’s emerging Macanese cluster consisted of recent migrants from Hong Kong.34 Others navigated the British imperial sphere, ultimately settling down in Britain. Those who stayed behind multiplied and diversified. The Second World War triggered a new round of movement, sending more than one thousand Macanese to demand renunciation of their British status so they could take refuge in Macau as Portuguese nationals. This would be followed by the unfolding of the second Macanese diaspora in the post-war period as families dispersed to different parts of the world. They set off to the United States, Portugal, Britain, Canada, Australia and the Philippines, eventually setting up thirteen Casas de Macau (Houses of Macau), each with their own unique insignia, activities and committee. In light of the global dispersal of the Macanese, Barnabas Koo has raised the question of whether Macau should, in fact, be considered as an ‘adopted home’ of the Macanese.35 Since 1993, Casa members have been returning to Macau to attend the Encontro, a triennial ‘homecoming’ that celebrates being Macanese through heritage visits, Macanese food and music. This sense of belonging, nonetheless, is a post-war development linked to the second diaspora and what were then looming uncertainties concerning the handovers of Hong Kong and Macau to the People’s Republic of China in 1997 and 1999, respectively.36 The Macanese diaspora to Hong Kong demonstrates one of the earliest diversifications of the Macanese identity under the forces of colonial, imperial and global developments. In less than a century, history witnessed the birth of an Anglicized Macanese community and the rise of a group of British-educated, middle-class Luso-descendentes who helped cultivate early civil society in British Hong Kong. Middle-class communities have a unique place in colonial history. Their footprints flood modern Southeast Asian history, particularly with regards 33 For a study of the Macanese diaspora in Chinese cities, see Alfredo Gomes Dias, Diáspora Macaense: Macau, Hong Kong, Xangai (1850–1952) (The Macanese Diaspora: Macao, Hong Kong, Shanghai (1850–1952)) (Lisbon: Centro Científico de Cultura de Macau, 2014). 34 Alfredo Gomes Dias, ‘The Origins of Macao’s Community in Shanghai, Hong Kong’s Emigration (1850–1909),’ Bulletin of Portuguese–Japanese Studies 17 (2008), 199. 35 Barnabas Koo, ‘The Survival of an Endangered Species: The Macanese in Contemporary Macau,’ PhD diss., University of Western Sydney, 2004, 49. 36 Mariana Pinto Leitão Pereira, ‘The Macanese Encontros: Remembrance in Diaspora ‘Homecomings,’ in Memory, Migration and Travel, ed. Sabine Marschall (New York: Routledge, 2018), 172.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

21

to narratives of new nationalisms and anti-colonial struggles against institutional inequalities.37 From Siamese elites and Thai nationalism to Colombo elites and Ceylonese nationalism in British Sri Lanka, middle-class urbanites spearheaded discourses of anti-colonialism through a widening inter-port print culture and regional public sphere.38 In late nineteenth-century Philippines, elite Chinese mestizos helped propagate the Filipino identity in a collective stand against the Spaniards during the Philippine Revolution.39 These experiences reveal the influence of the colonial framework on the revolutionizing of communal identities and the making of modern Asian nations. Yet such narratives suggest that modern Asia was largely built through the responses of middle-class urbanites to the colonizer–colonized polarity and, quoting Richard Reid, ‘colonial imagining[s]’ of ‘race.’40 This impedes a fuller understanding of the nature of identity construction as a continuous process of reinvention and re-articulation of pre-colonial, colonial, regional and global developments.41 Possessing physical, political, legal, commercial and cultural connections with more than one place, diasporic communities provide us with new points of access for understanding how individuals and communities ceaselessly sought survival tools beyond singular colonial and/or imperial spaces in coping with external changes. As an example, the Sikh diaspora moved from one British outpost to another and finally settled in Britain, eventually ‘destabilizing’ accepted notions of Sikh authority in

37 Christof Dejung, David Motadel, and Jürgen Osterhammel, The Global Bourgeoisie: The Rise of the Middle Class in the Age of Empire (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2019); Edgar Wickberg, ‘The Chinese Mestizo in Philippine History,’ Journal of Southeast Asian History 5, no. 1 (1964), 62–100; Stoler, ‘Sexual Affronts and Racial Frontiers,’ 520, 522–524; Frederick Cooper and Ann Laura Stoler (eds.), Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in A Bourgeois World (London: University of California Press, 1997). 38 Matthew Copeland, ‘Contested Nationalism and the 1932 Overthrow of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam,’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 1993; Thanapol Limapichart, ‘The Emergence of the Siamese Public Sphere: Colonial Modernity, Print Culture and the Practice of Criticism (1860s–1910s),’ South East Asian Research 17, no. 3 (2009), 361–399; Mark Ravinder Frost, ‘Cosmopolitan Fragments from a Splintered Isle: ‘Ceylonese’ Nationalism in Late-Colonial Sri Lanka,’ in Ethnicities, Diasporas and ‘Grounded’ Cosmopolitanism in Asia, ed. Joel S. Kahn (Singapore: Asia Research Institute, 2004), 59–69. 39 Antonio S. Tan, ‘The Chinese Mestizos and the Formation of the Filipino Nationality,’ Archipel 32, no. 1 (1986), 141–162. 40 Richard Reid, ‘Past and Presentism: the “Precolonial” and the Foreshortening of African History,’ The Journal of African History 52, no. 2 (2011), 147; See also Daus, Portuguese Eurasian Communities. 41 Stuart Hall, ‘Who Needs Identity?’ in Questions of Cultural Identity, ed. Stuart Hall and Paul du Gay (London: Sage, 1996), 6.

22 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Punjab and overseas in exchange of new life opportunities. 42 The Burghers in Sri Lanka were descendants of the Portuguese, Dutch and British that successively ruled Ceylon across a span of four centuries. The middle-class ‘Dutch Burghers’ strove to sustain their political and economic interests away from the poorer and more numerous ‘Portuguese Mechanics.’43 As will be discussed throughout this book, middle-class Macanese invested in becoming British while hanging onto their Portuguese links to gain the best of both worlds. The human experience in colonial societies, hence, unfolded in the face of everyday challenges and dynamic interactions between colonial, communal and individual imaginations of ethnicity, culture and belonging. For three centuries, Luso-descendants drifted between empires before settling down in Macau and thereafter Hong Kong. Identifying this community as a homogenous ‘Portuguese’ entity, as the majority of historians have, obscures the fact that the Macanese had long been physically and politically detached from their pátria (fatherland) of Portugal. The Macanese population mushroomed in Macau following generations of interracial marriage between the Portuguese or Portuguese Eurasians with Chinese, Japanese, Indian, Malay and Eurasian people in the Portuguese territories of Goa, Malacca and Timor. In fact, a considerable portion of Macanese subjects had never stepped foot in Portugal prior to their arrival in Hong Kong, their link to Portugal surviving only through Macau. This means that throughout the time period that this book covers, splintered developments in Portugal and Macau worked hand in glove with Hong Kong’s circumstances in the shaping of the Macanese. In addition, Portugal’s presence in Hong Kong was not pervasive, manifesting mostly in cultural events. It was only due to the ripples of nationalism in the interwar period and António de Oliveira Salazar’s vision of unifying Portugal with its overseas dominions that a pro-Portuguese organization would be set up to counter the Anglicization of the Macanese. At the height of their identity construction during the interwar period, at least six different types of Macanese communities were active across four Asian cities—Macau, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Kobe. In Hong Kong alone, we can count three communities. These included the first-generation migrants, who had a stronger sense of attachment to Macau; Hong Kong-born 42 Tony Ballantyne, Between Colonialism and Diaspora: Sikh Cultural Formations in an Imperial World (Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006), 66. 43 Dennis B. McGilvray, ‘Dutch Burghers and Portuguese Mechanics: Eurasian Ethnicity in Sri Lanka,’ Comparative Studies in Society and History 24, no. 2 (1982), 235–263.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

23

Anglicized Macanese, who had naturalized as British subjects while claiming to be leaders of the colony’s Portuguese community; and Macau-born and -raised Macanese, who arrived as young adults to answer the Lisbon government’s calls to revive the glories of the Portuguese empire. The construction of these Macanese communities in colonial Hong Kong embodied a transimperial process entangled with the effects of diaspora and the liberty diasporic communities possessed in imagining their affiliations to various political and cultural spaces.

Contesting the ‘Macanese’ identity ‘Macanese’ is an umbrella term that over-simplif ies the ambiguity of Southern China’s Luso-Asian community. The term is used interchangeably with ‘Portuguese,’ ‘f ilhos da terra’ (sons of the land, translated in Chinese text to dadi zhizi大地之子; also used in Guinea, São Tomé, Angola, Mozambique and Malacca) and, usually appearing in Chinese texts, ‘tusheng Puren’ (native-born Portuguese; 土生葡人). 44 ‘Macaísta’ appeared in nineteenth-century publications but by the turn of the century, the term was considered ‘depreciative’ and offensive after Constâncio José da Silva, an editor of several Portuguese-language newspapers, pointed out that it was meant for objects. 45 This book uses ‘Macanese’ loosely in referring to Lusodescendentes with Macau roots. The Macanese were devout Catholics and spoke different degrees of English, Cantonese and patuá, a creole Macanese language derived from Malay, Sinhalese, Cantonese and Portuguese. 46 In general, they incorporated Portuguese, Chinese and other Asian cultural 44 Although the two terms are used interchangeably, tusheng suggests someone born in Macau whereas Macanese could simply mean culturally hybrid people who identify themselves as Portuguese but speak the creole Patuá language, have the habit of eating Macanese cuisine and are accepted by the Macanese community as one of their own. The ambiguity between tusheng and Macaense is discussed in Deng Siping鄧思平, Aomen tusheng Puren澳門土生葡 人 (Macaenses) (Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian youxian gongsi, 2009), 9. For the wide usage of filhos da terra in other Portuguese territories, see Hespanha, Filhos da Terra, 11. 45 Texeira, ‘The Origin of the Macanese.’ 46 By the early twentieth century, Macau’s Macanese perceived patuá as a marker of the lower classes while those in Hong Kong generally saw those who spoke the creole language were ‘socially pretentious.’ António M. Jorge da Silva, Macaenses: The Portuguese in China (Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau, 2015), 117; Jason Wordie, ‘The Hong Kong Portuguese Community and Its Connections with Hong Kong University, 1941–1941,’ in An Impossible Dream: Hong Kong University from Foundation to Re-establishment, 1910–1950, ed. Chan Lau Kit-ching and Peter Cunich (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 166.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

23

Anglicized Macanese, who had naturalized as British subjects while claiming to be leaders of the colony’s Portuguese community; and Macau-born and -raised Macanese, who arrived as young adults to answer the Lisbon government’s calls to revive the glories of the Portuguese empire. The construction of these Macanese communities in colonial Hong Kong embodied a transimperial process entangled with the effects of diaspora and the liberty diasporic communities possessed in imagining their affiliations to various political and cultural spaces.

Contesting the ‘Macanese’ identity ‘Macanese’ is an umbrella term that over-simplif ies the ambiguity of Southern China’s Luso-Asian community. The term is used interchangeably with ‘Portuguese,’ ‘f ilhos da terra’ (sons of the land, translated in Chinese text to dadi zhizi大地之子; also used in Guinea, São Tomé, Angola, Mozambique and Malacca) and, usually appearing in Chinese texts, ‘tusheng Puren’ (native-born Portuguese; 土生葡人). 44 ‘Macaísta’ appeared in nineteenth-century publications but by the turn of the century, the term was considered ‘depreciative’ and offensive after Constâncio José da Silva, an editor of several Portuguese-language newspapers, pointed out that it was meant for objects. 45 This book uses ‘Macanese’ loosely in referring to Lusodescendentes with Macau roots. The Macanese were devout Catholics and spoke different degrees of English, Cantonese and patuá, a creole Macanese language derived from Malay, Sinhalese, Cantonese and Portuguese. 46 In general, they incorporated Portuguese, Chinese and other Asian cultural 44 Although the two terms are used interchangeably, tusheng suggests someone born in Macau whereas Macanese could simply mean culturally hybrid people who identify themselves as Portuguese but speak the creole Patuá language, have the habit of eating Macanese cuisine and are accepted by the Macanese community as one of their own. The ambiguity between tusheng and Macaense is discussed in Deng Siping鄧思平, Aomen tusheng Puren澳門土生葡 人 (Macaenses) (Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian youxian gongsi, 2009), 9. For the wide usage of filhos da terra in other Portuguese territories, see Hespanha, Filhos da Terra, 11. 45 Texeira, ‘The Origin of the Macanese.’ 46 By the early twentieth century, Macau’s Macanese perceived patuá as a marker of the lower classes while those in Hong Kong generally saw those who spoke the creole language were ‘socially pretentious.’ António M. Jorge da Silva, Macaenses: The Portuguese in China (Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau, 2015), 117; Jason Wordie, ‘The Hong Kong Portuguese Community and Its Connections with Hong Kong University, 1941–1941,’ in An Impossible Dream: Hong Kong University from Foundation to Re-establishment, 1910–1950, ed. Chan Lau Kit-ching and Peter Cunich (New York: Oxford University Press, 2002), 166.

24 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

practices into their lifestyles. A quick glance at a Macanese-written poem from the 1800s reveals usage of the term nhonha (an equivalent of nyonya, seen in the Straits Settlements) in referring to young girls, the habit of serving cha (Chinese tea) to house guests, the consumption of arroz (rice) as a food staple and the female habit of wearing qimão (kimono). 47 Dr. Melchior Yvan, a French physician who visited Macau in the 1840s, further affirmed the ‘Portuguese Macaists’ ate rice as a principal dietary component, complemented by condiments like the balichan (sambal belacan), a Malay dish made out of pounded small f ish and prawns preserved in spice. 48 Women wore the South Asian saraça, a piece of cloth worn as a skirt by women from Madagascar, Ceylon, Malaysia, Oceania, Indochina and the Philippines. Anthropologists and historians have long debated on the racial composition of the Macanese, associating them with the Mongolian, European, Malay, Chinese, Japanese and Indian ethnic groups. 49 The late Luis Andrade de Sá and Alfredo Gomes Dias have raised questions regarding the complexities of defining the Macanese from historical and sociological approaches. De Sá provided one of the standing narratives regarding the segregation between Anglophile Macanese and pro-Portuguese Macanese, which he saw as a question of nationality.50 Dias approached the question from the perspectives of nationality, culture and hybridity.51 Jorge Forjaz, who has compiled a monumental genealogy of Macanese families, included settlers who arrived in Macau and started families in the Portuguese enclave in his definition of ‘Macanese.’ He pointed out that all Macanese had an early link 47 Patois, also patuá, is a Portuguese-based creole language that borrows from Malay, Cantonese and Sinhalese spoken by the Macanese. For the poem, see J.F. Marques Pereira, ed., Ta-ssi-yangkuo: Archivos e annaes do extreme-oriente Portuguez, Vol. 1 (Ta-ssi-yang-kuo: Archives and Annals of the Portuguese Far East, Vol. 1) (Lisbon: Antiga Casa Bertrand–José Bastos, 1899), 57–59. 48 Melchior Yvan, Six Months Among the Malays; And a Year in China (London: James, Blackwood, Paternoster Row, 1855), 288. 49 In 1897, for instance, Portuguese military man and later, governor of Portuguese Timor (1882–1883), Bento da França Pinto de Oliveira described Macau’s inhabitants as having Mongolian features, with European and/or Malayan physical appearances. In 1965, Jesuit Priest Manuel Texeira identified the Macanese as a product of intermarriage between Portuguese men and Chinese women. Ana Maria Amaro has written a detailed account of the various interpretations on the Macanese. See Ana Maria Amaro 安娜‧瑪里亞‧阿馬羅, Dadi Zhizi: Aomen Tusheng Puren Yanjiu大地之子──澳門土生葡人研究 (Filhos da Terra; Sons of the Land), trans. Jin Guoping 金國平 (Aomen: Aomen wenhua sishu, 1993). 50 Luís Andrade de Sá, The Boys from Macau (Macau: Fundação Oriente; Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1999), 47–54. 51 Dias, Diáspora Macaense, 102–116.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

25

to Portugal, Mozambique or India.52 Like Barnabas Koo’s exploration of how the Macanese survived the tides of time as an identity and community, Stuart Braga’s extensive study of his family also highlighted the shifting nature of Macanese identity through time and space.53 While these works have raised initial questions that problematize the identity of the Macanese, a good chunk of literature on the Hong Kong Macanese is focused on their early settlement and social activities in the colony, providing a sturdy pool of information for further study.54 This book explores the ways in which the Macanese actively participated in the negotiation of their identities in British Hong Kong, eventually leading to the birth of multiple interpretations of what it is to be Macanese, Portuguese and British. Although it is true that most Macanese braved the move to Hong Kong to achieve social mobility, we often forget that becoming more British or publicly Portuguese was a personal choice for many middle-class Macanese individuals. Throughout this book, race carries two specific meanings. First, race is an ‘imagined community’ constructed through a form of kinship bound by a shared culture and by acknowledging the presence of other races.55 Second, it is a continuous construction that merges past experiences, present challenges and expectations regarding the future.56 Race in colonial societies has largely been defined as colonial constructs that were invented to legitimize power and safeguard colonial administrations.57 As whiteness often translated to 52 Diana do Mar, ‘Famílias Macaenses: O retrato de uma comunidade no tempo’ (Macanese Families: The Portrait of a Community in Time), Revista Macau 25 August 2017, https://www. revistamacau.com/rm2020/2017/08/25/familias-macaenses-o-retrato-de-uma-comunidade-notempo/ (accessed 15 June 2020). 53 Koo, ‘The Survival of an Endangered Species’; Stuart Braga, ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950,’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. 54 See, for instance, José Pedro Braga, The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China: Their Beginning, Settlement and Progress to 1949, Vol. 1 (Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau and University of Macau, 2013); Ye Nong葉農, Duhai chongsheng: shijiu shiji Aomen Putaoya ren yiju Xianggang yanjiu渡海重生：19世纪澳門葡萄牙人移居香港研究 (A Study of Portuguese Emigrants from Macau to Hong Kong in the Nineteenth Century) (Aomen: Aomen tebie xingzheng chu zhengfu wenhua ju, 2014); Jorge da Silva and António M. Pacheco, The Portuguese Community in Hong Kong: A Pictorial History, Vol. I (Macau: Macau Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2007). 55 Robert Miles, Racism after ‘Race Relations’ (New York: Routledge, 1993). 56 Stuart Hall, ‘Cultural Identity and Diaspora,’ in Identity, Community, Cultural Difference, ed. Jonathan Rutherford (London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1990), 222–237. 57 Olindo de Napoli, ‘Race and Empire: The Legitimation of Italian Colonialism in Juridical Thought,’ The Journal of Modern History 85, no. 4 (2013), 801–832; Patricia M.E. Lorcin, Imperial Identities: Stereotyping, Prejudice and Race in Colonial Algeria (London: I.B. Tauris, 1999). Ann L. Stoler, ‘Making Empire Respectable: The Politics of Race and Sexual Morality in 20th-Century

26 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

authority, studies have pointed to how middle-class mixed race subjects adopted different degrees of whiteness or Europeanness to showcase their social status. This was seen in the construction of Batavia’s Indo-Dutch local elites and the Hispanic-European cultural practices of wealthy Chinese mestizos in Spanish Philippines.58 Post-colonial critiques have broadly condemned this process as colonial ‘mimicry’ and post-colonial thinkers have highlighted the problematic entanglement of race with colonialism even after the collapse of colonial regimes.59 I argue that the entwinement of race with colonialism has flattened the pragmatism of human communities and confined our understanding of people who lived in colonies to simply ‘the colonized.’ Although their works also focus on anti-colonial communities, proponents of subaltern studies have cautioned that too much emphasis on colonialism distorts narratives with the hegemonic vocabulary of the colonizer.60 In reality, colonial residents actively sought to reshape and reform notions of ‘difference’ in order to elude the restrictions of colonial practices, sometimes resulting in discourses of resistance.61 The Macanese diaspora offers us an opportunity to further deviate from the colonial framework in exploring the construction and reinvention of a diasporic Luso-Asian community under the shadings of a British colony. In the vein of race as a colonial construct, several narratives have presented middle-class Macanese elites as victims of the Hong Kong government’s racialized practices. In this book, we unravel the stitches of colonialism to Colonial Cultures,’ American Ethnologist 16, no. 4 (1989), 634–660; Catherine Hall, White Male and Middle-Class Explorations in Feminism and History (Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992). 58 Jean Gelman Taylor, The Social World of Batavia: Europeans and Eurasians in Colonial Indonesia (Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1983); Tan, ‘The Chinese Mestizos and the Formation of the Filipino Nationality,’ 150. 59 Homi Bhabha, ‘Of Mimicry and Man: the Ambivalence of Colonial Discourse,’ October 28 (1984), 125–133; D.P.S. Goh, ‘Eyes Turned towards China: Postcolonial Mimicry, Transcultural Elitism and Singapore Chineseness,’ in Race and Multiculturalism in Malaysia and Singapore, ed. D.P.S. Goh, M. Gabrielillai, P. Holden and G.C. Khoo (London: Routledge, 2009), 53–54; P. de Silva, Colonial Self-Fashioning in British India, c. 1785–1845: Visualising Identity and Difference (Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2018), 77–80. For post-colonial thinkers, see Stuart Hall, Chas Critcher, Tony Jefferson and Brian Roberts, Policing the Crisis: Mugging, the State and Law and Order (London: Macmillan, 1978); Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks, trans. Richard Phil (New York: Grove Press, 2008); Edward Said, Orientalism (London: Routledge, 1978). 60 ‘Subaltern’ here is based on the postcolonial argument of men and women outside of the power hierarchy of colonial governments. Gayatri Chakravorty Spivak, Can the Subaltern Speak? (Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1988). 61 Partha Chatterjee, The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993), 75.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

27

rethink the Macanese as ordinary men and women looking for a place in the sun. They lived within colonial walls, but as a diasporic community, Hong Kong was certainly not all they had. They had the option of harnessing survival tools and imagining political connections beyond Hong Kong, all while making good use of the colony’s available physical and cultural spaces. Furthermore, the Macanese rarely experienced tension with the British government, peacefully co-existing with the city’s native and foreign communities. As against common colonial narratives of collaboration and/or resistance, this book reveals intra-communal conflict caused by class jealousies and a race to claim authority over Portuguese affairs and Macanese identity discourses in British Hong Kong. Notably, the Macanese acknowledgment of colonial Hong Kong as a home served as the largest factor in the diversification of the Macanese during the early twentieth century.

Cosmopolitan and transnational arenas Colonial cities facilitated the movement of people and the dissemination of cultures, paving the way for spaces that acted as conduits of new ideas.62 Within the colony, plural societies bloomed as individuals coming from different cultural backgrounds but sharing common interests met through the markets, the workplace and recreational institutions.63 Asian colonies, like their inhabitants, strove beyond their status as cities under the administration of colonial regimes. They were cosmopolitan maritime zones that collectively formed a vibrant network with other colonial portcities. Stretching from Calcutta to Bombay to Singapore and then to Hong Kong, the British imperial sphere generated a comprehensive terrain rooted in Anglophone bureaucracy, the provision of English education and the emergence of non-British Anglophile elite societies.64 International civic organizations such as the YWCA and Rotary emerged across Asia’s portcities, constructing regional and global bridges that integrated Asian cities 62 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso, 1991). 63 Furnivall, for instance, discussed the situation in the market place within Dutch and British colonies in Asia. For this, see J.S. Furnivall, Colonial Policy and Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948), 304. 64 Bayly, ‘The Evolution of Colonial Cultures,’ 447–469. See also, Sugata Bose’s argument that the British Empire did not destroy older patterns of maritime connection in the Indian Ocean but instead, created new transoceanic linkages. Sugata Bose, A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean Age of Global Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006), 122–192.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

27

rethink the Macanese as ordinary men and women looking for a place in the sun. They lived within colonial walls, but as a diasporic community, Hong Kong was certainly not all they had. They had the option of harnessing survival tools and imagining political connections beyond Hong Kong, all while making good use of the colony’s available physical and cultural spaces. Furthermore, the Macanese rarely experienced tension with the British government, peacefully co-existing with the city’s native and foreign communities. As against common colonial narratives of collaboration and/or resistance, this book reveals intra-communal conflict caused by class jealousies and a race to claim authority over Portuguese affairs and Macanese identity discourses in British Hong Kong. Notably, the Macanese acknowledgment of colonial Hong Kong as a home served as the largest factor in the diversification of the Macanese during the early twentieth century.

Cosmopolitan and transnational arenas Colonial cities facilitated the movement of people and the dissemination of cultures, paving the way for spaces that acted as conduits of new ideas.62 Within the colony, plural societies bloomed as individuals coming from different cultural backgrounds but sharing common interests met through the markets, the workplace and recreational institutions.63 Asian colonies, like their inhabitants, strove beyond their status as cities under the administration of colonial regimes. They were cosmopolitan maritime zones that collectively formed a vibrant network with other colonial portcities. Stretching from Calcutta to Bombay to Singapore and then to Hong Kong, the British imperial sphere generated a comprehensive terrain rooted in Anglophone bureaucracy, the provision of English education and the emergence of non-British Anglophile elite societies.64 International civic organizations such as the YWCA and Rotary emerged across Asia’s portcities, constructing regional and global bridges that integrated Asian cities 62 Benedict Anderson, Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism (London: Verso, 1991). 63 Furnivall, for instance, discussed the situation in the market place within Dutch and British colonies in Asia. For this, see J.S. Furnivall, Colonial Policy and Practice (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948), 304. 64 Bayly, ‘The Evolution of Colonial Cultures,’ 447–469. See also, Sugata Bose’s argument that the British Empire did not destroy older patterns of maritime connection in the Indian Ocean but instead, created new transoceanic linkages. Sugata Bose, A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean Age of Global Empire (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006), 122–192.

28 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

into broader global trends and a growing civic associational culture in the continent.65 Despite its rocky beginnings as a barren island, British Hong Kong gradually became a buzzing cosmopolitan place. Natives and foreigners clustered with their own kind but had to learn to mingle with each other in public spaces.66 The various pursuits of its multiracial population also linked Hong Kong to global commercial routes, turning Hong Kong into an international port.67 By engaging in the spread of collective universal values and the building of multiethnic associational institutions and inter-port print culture, diasporic communities partook in the creation of cosmopolitanism in Asia. Migrants accelerated the establishment of exchange between cities and a globalized urban culture in the local scene as they constructed communal identity discourses. This resulted in the shaping of the ‘Nanyang’ (南洋; South sea) into a ‘home’ for diasporic Chinese communities.68 Domiciled communities such as Malaya-born and -raised Straits Chinese formed the Malay identity, manifested in shared educational experiences and new possibilities of dialogue and imagination through print media.69 The status of Kuala Lumpur by 1919 as a center for Chinese anarchist networks that spread from China to Japan and through the Philippines and Malaya to Paris showed the comprehensive landscape of the Malayan world.70 Furthermore, cosmopolitanism pulled politically segregated colonial spaces closer to each other by providing wider domains where Asian literati could

65 Lewis, Cities in Motion; Kong, ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism.’ 66 Elizabeth Sinn and Christopher Munn, Meeting Place: Encounters across Cultures in Hong Kong, 1841–1984 (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2017); Ding Xinbao丁新豹 and Lu Shuying 盧淑櫻, Feiwo zuyi: zhanqian Xianggang de waiji zuqun 非我族裔: 戰前香港的外籍族 群 (Not of My Kind: Foreign Communities in Pre-war Hong Kong) (Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian, 2014); Cindy Yik-yi Chu, ed., Foreign Communities in Hong Kong, 1840s–1950s (London: Palgrave MacMillan, 2005). 67 See, for instance, Elizabeth Sinn, Pacific Crossing: California Gold, Chinese Migration, and the Making of Hong Kong (Hong Kong: University of Hong Kong Press, 2012). 68 Mark Ravinder Frost, ‘Emporium in Imperio: Nanyang Networks and the Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1914,’ Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 36, no. 1 (2005), 29–66. See also Claudine Salmon, ‘On the Track of the Straits Baba Diaspora: Liec Qingui and His “Summary Account of a Trip to the East” (1889),’ Chinese Southern Diaspora Studies 5 (2011–2012), 116–145. 69 Chua Ai Lin, ‘The Domiciled Identity in Colonial Singapore: Understanding the Straits Chinese Beyond “Race,” “Nation” and “Empire,”’ in Peranakan Chinese in a Globalizing Southeast Asia, ed. Leo Suryadinata (Singapore: Chinese Heritage Centre, Nanyang Technological University and Baba House, National University of Singapore, 2010), 145–154. 70 Tim Harper, ‘Afterword: The Malay World, Besides Empire and Nation,’ Indonesia and the Malay World 31, no. 120 (2013), 285.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

29

address region-wide issues using English as a lingua franca.71 As a result, territorial demarcations shrunk and ethnic lines of separation began to blur, setting the stage for an unprecedented level of interconnectedness that transcended colonial, imperial and/or national ties. In Hong Kong, some Macanese maintained Freemason networks and others joined multiracial charitable or recreational associations.72 By the early twentieth century, middle-class Macanese urbanites were seen participating in public debates regarding universal ideas and local pursuits that mirrored global calls for world peace and equality. While cosmopolitanism prompted individuals to discover new sociability and explore unparalleled forms of identities on foreign land, diasporic communities retained varying ties to their homelands. The colonial city, hence, was also a transnational arena where one could build new political loyalties and civic affiliations while embracing pre-existing cultural, legal and/or political affiliations. This was demonstrated by how the Chinese of Rangoon reaffirmed their ethnic pride vis-à-vis new feelings of attachment to a Burmese identity.73 The co-existence of various Chinese communities in Asia’s colonial societies that ranged from Peranakan (or Baba) Chinese to mestizo Chinese also reveals the complexities of diasporic identity. While the Peranakan Chinese in Indonesia pioneered an Indonesian proto-nationalism, the Peranakans of the Straits Settlement used their dual allegiance to the Chinese nation and the British empire to construct a strand of Malayan nationalism.74 In the Philippines, many foreign-educated mestizo Chinese worked with upper-class natives in the revolution against the Spaniards. Although they were later legally classified as Filipinos under the American regime, they neither rejected their Chinese roots nor identified with China.75 71 Mark Ravinder Frost, ‘Asia’s Maritime Networks and the Colonial Public Sphere, 1840–1920,’ New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies 6, no. 2 (2004), 63–94. 72 Isabel Morais, ‘Darwinism, Freemasonry and Print Culture: The Construction of Identity of the Macanese Colonial Elites in the Late Nineteenth Century,’ in Macao—The Formation of a Global City, ed. C.X. George Wei (New York Routledge, 2014), 53–71. 73 Chua Ai Lin, ‘Nation, Race and Language: Discussing Transnational Identities in Colonial Singapore, circa 1930,’ Modern Asian Studies 46, no. 2 (2012), 283–302; Penny Edwards, ‘Relocating the Interlocutor: Taw Sein Ko (1864–1930) and the Itinerancy of Knowledge in British Burma,’ South East Asia Research 12, no. 3 (2004), 277–335. 74 Leo Suryadinata, ‘Pre-war Indonesian Nationalism and the Peranakan Chinese,’ Indonesia no. 11 (1971), 83–94; Bernard Z. Keo, ‘The Peranakan Chinese of the Straits Settlements, 1890–1948,’ in Colonialism, China and the Chinese, ed. Matthew P. Fitzpatrick and Peter Monteath (New York: Routledge, 2020), 99–117. 75 Richard T. Chiu, ‘The “Chinese” and the “Mestizos” of the Philippines: Towards a New Interpretation,’ Philippine Studies 50, no. 3 (2002), 346–348.

30 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

The fact that these categories of Chineseness carried differing affections towards China allows us to rethink the construction of multilayered diasporic identities on par with local, national, imperial and/or global networks. In a similar vein, the construction of the Macanese identity in Hong Kong illuminates the processes of cosmopolitanism and transnationalism on colonial soil. Existing on various trajectories, the Hong Kong Macanese were transnational actors in the sense that they responded in their own ways to changes in Portugal, all while publicly displaying loyalty to both the British colonial government and the Macau administration. The Macanese openly celebrated the Portuguese King’s birthday and simultaneously hailed Her Majesty the Queen in their events, adopting both Portuguese and British cultural markers to form one single social experience.76 Signif icantly, their lived Anglicized identities in Hong Kong did not conflict with old allegiances to Macau and the pátria, creating instead intra-communal tension through time.77 In 1930s Hong Kong, Anglicized Macanese men helped establish an early civil society while serving as leaders of Portuguese institutions while pro-Portuguese Macanese busied themselves by working for Hong Kong’s enterprises while writing to Portuguese President Salazar for the opportunity to fight in the honor of the nation.

A kaleidoscope of Macanese experiences This book adopts the concept of ‘collective biography’ and builds on the idea that while every ordinary human being has an extraordinary story to tell, a collective study of individual biographies linked by common background characteristics contributes to our understanding of long-term transformations. Through the use of materials such as birth and death certificates, wills, census returns, letters, diaries and personal documents, the approach of collective biography has made it possible to identify a coherent narrative out of otherwise fragmented individual experiences lurking in archives and private family collections.78 Liz Stanley has creatively suggested that we think of biography as a kaleidoscope: each time we take a peek at the 76 For the relationship between transnationalism and the creation of broad social experiences, see Linda Green Basch, Nina Glick Schiller and Cristina Szanton Blanc (eds.), Nations Unbound: Transnational Projects, Postcolonial Predicaments and Deterritorialized Nation-States (London: Routledge, 2005), 5. 77 Pence and Zimmerman, ‘Transnationalism,’ 498. 78 Krista Cowman, ‘Collective Biography,’ in Research Methods for History, 2nd ed., ed. Simon Gunn and Lucy Faire (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2012), 85–103, 89.

30 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

The fact that these categories of Chineseness carried differing affections towards China allows us to rethink the construction of multilayered diasporic identities on par with local, national, imperial and/or global networks. In a similar vein, the construction of the Macanese identity in Hong Kong illuminates the processes of cosmopolitanism and transnationalism on colonial soil. Existing on various trajectories, the Hong Kong Macanese were transnational actors in the sense that they responded in their own ways to changes in Portugal, all while publicly displaying loyalty to both the British colonial government and the Macau administration. The Macanese openly celebrated the Portuguese King’s birthday and simultaneously hailed Her Majesty the Queen in their events, adopting both Portuguese and British cultural markers to form one single social experience.76 Signif icantly, their lived Anglicized identities in Hong Kong did not conflict with old allegiances to Macau and the pátria, creating instead intra-communal tension through time.77 In 1930s Hong Kong, Anglicized Macanese men helped establish an early civil society while serving as leaders of Portuguese institutions while pro-Portuguese Macanese busied themselves by working for Hong Kong’s enterprises while writing to Portuguese President Salazar for the opportunity to fight in the honor of the nation.

A kaleidoscope of Macanese experiences This book adopts the concept of ‘collective biography’ and builds on the idea that while every ordinary human being has an extraordinary story to tell, a collective study of individual biographies linked by common background characteristics contributes to our understanding of long-term transformations. Through the use of materials such as birth and death certificates, wills, census returns, letters, diaries and personal documents, the approach of collective biography has made it possible to identify a coherent narrative out of otherwise fragmented individual experiences lurking in archives and private family collections.78 Liz Stanley has creatively suggested that we think of biography as a kaleidoscope: each time we take a peek at the 76 For the relationship between transnationalism and the creation of broad social experiences, see Linda Green Basch, Nina Glick Schiller and Cristina Szanton Blanc (eds.), Nations Unbound: Transnational Projects, Postcolonial Predicaments and Deterritorialized Nation-States (London: Routledge, 2005), 5. 77 Pence and Zimmerman, ‘Transnationalism,’ 498. 78 Krista Cowman, ‘Collective Biography,’ in Research Methods for History, 2nd ed., ed. Simon Gunn and Lucy Faire (Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2012), 85–103, 89.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

31

same set of materials, new patterns emerge from different perspectives and combinations.79 Stanley’s description is especially meaningful when placed in the context of diasporic communities like the Macanese. As a marginal foreign community in Hong Kong, the Macanese have not been particularly well-documented in the archives, yet when we put together sources regarding two or more businessmen, civil servants, clerks, club members, urbanites, politicians or nationalists who lived through a particular era, dynamic narratives emerge from their connections to the fringes of several cultural worlds. Owing to the availability of sources on middle-class Macanese men, this book largely centers on the experiences, ambitions and pursuits of bourgeois Macanese men. While the number of females was not far off the number of males, Macanese women are noticeably absent in known surviving accounts. Documenting the European working class in the nineteenth century, Henry Lethbridge mentioned Maria Roza, a ‘young Portuguese widow from Macau’ who was formerly kept by a policeman. Roza became a full-time prostitute and was convicted in 1874 for running a clandestine brothel with an American woman.80 Fragmented sources have confirmed that Macanese women did not stand equal to Macanese men, their roles often reduced to subordination. The colony’s Portuguese clubs, as will be seen in Chapter Three, did not accept female members. Newspaper advertisements from the early twentieth century showed Macanese women thrown in certain pigeonholes along with Eurasian women. They were seen as ideal clerks, bookkeepers, housekeepers and governesses for European employers.81 In the early twentieth century, female public figures began to emerge yet their lives and contributions were still inseparable from their male counterparts. When Catholic charity supporter Guilhermina Francisca dos Remedios Romano passed away in 1932, local newspapers remembered her as the widow of the late Augustinho Romano, who previously served as the Consul General for Portugal and Brazil in Hong Kong. The South China Morning Post printed the following: ‘As the wife of the Portuguese Consul General, Mrs. Romano, while the embodiment of modesty, played the part of an ideal hostess in their

79 Liz Stanley, The Auto/Biographical I: The Theory and Practice of Feminist Auto/Biography (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992), 6. 80 H.J. Lethbridge, ‘Condition of the European Working Class in Nineteenth Century Hong Kong,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 15 (1975), 97. 81 ‘Wanted—Young Portuguese or Eurasian Girl to Act as Nurse to a Young Baby in Swatow,’ South China Morning Post, 20 October 1911; ‘Wanted Portuguese or Eurasia clerk,’ South China Morning Post, 14 August 1905; ‘Wanted Young Portuguese or Eurasian Girl,’ South China Morning Post, 16 December 1907.

32 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

unique residence.’82 It would only be in 1965 that Inez da Rosa, secretary to the deputy Colonial Secretary, became the first Macanese woman to receive an MBE (Member of the Order of the British Empire). For her work in discovering native orchid species and for two decades of service to the colonial government, Gloria Barretto would become the second, in 1970.83 To cope with the challenge of not having archives that specifically house historical materials on the Macanese community, this book compiles English-, Chinese- and Portuguese-language sources scattered in the archives of London, Canberra, Lisbon, Boston, Hong Kong and Macau. Through the help of Club Lusitano members, I was fortunate enough to locate Ruy Barretto, who is a descendant of one of the first Macanese men to have been employed in the Hong Kong government as a chief clerk. The kindness of Ruy and Karen Barretto brought me to the Ruy Barretto family papers at Girassol, Tai Po, and allowed me to incorporate into this book personal letters and documents that have traveled the world but had been kept private in their home for almost a century. The approach I have taken in this book will hopefully inspire other historians working on fragmented sources, marginal communities and individual or family histories to look into private collections, photo albums or diaries that may be sitting somewhere in attics, waiting to be unearthed from forgotten trunks and cobweb-covered suitcases. Snapshots of Macanese life in Macau and Hong Kong complete the five chapters of this book, which are organized chronologically. Chapter One traces the beginnings of the history of colonial Hong Kong through professional relationships, Catholic missions and unfulfilled ambitions that took shape in pre-1842 Macau. In contrast with common perceptions that the founding of colonial Hong Kong led to the downfall of Macau, we consider the cross-border transfer of old affiliations and their impacts on the establishment of early British Hong Kong. The first chapter further sets the stage for understanding the push factors behind the first Macanese diaspora and situates the British colony within a world of fluid transcolonial and transimperial interactions. The second chapter focuses on the experiences of Macanese individuals in the workplace and highlights their roles as weak ‘collaborators,’ relative to other multiracial subjects who had access to the native Chinese communities. It emphasizes that while Hong Kong’s colonial structure safeguarded the domination of British superiors in public and private enterprises, the Macanese were, in reality, not as distinguished as 82 ‘Obituary: Portuguese Lady of Well-Known Family,’ South China Morning Post, 14 September 1932, 10. 83 ‘Second Portuguese Woman to Get MBE,’ South China Morning Post, 9 January 1970, 6.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

33

their European counterparts in terms of qualification, work performance and strategic value. Chapter Two also offers a reprisal of the roles of negotiation, collaboration and resistance as the lifelines of colonized subjects and colonial governments. We turn our attention, instead, to lower- and middle-ranking workers, who quietly served as the administrative backbone of the colony in order to sustain lives outside of the colonial workplace. Chapter Three explores associational life in Hong Kong from the 1860s to the 1880s and reveals the role of the community’s racial plasticity in the shaping of a respectable bourgeois Macanese community. This was achieved through the founding of Club Lusitano, the largest Portuguese gentlemen’s club in the colony. Modeled after British club culture, Club Lusitano embodied the transimperial characteristics of Hong Kong’s urban spaces, seen in the Macanese construction of Portuguese identities and their public displays of allegiance to the Portuguese monarchy without possessing actual political affiliations to the pátria. To trace the path to becoming ‘Portuguese,’ we delve into Club Lusitano’s involvement in the tercentenary celebration of Portuguese poet Camões’s death, a Republican-instigated event that took place in Portugal, Brazil and Hong Kong, but not in Macau. Moving away from the idea that colonies imposed rigid racial lines and class hierarchies, Chapter Three reveals how middle-class Macanese men who worked as clerks in the daytime and strove to be leaders of Hong Kong’s Portuguese at night segregated the Macanese community by magnifying class differences in the course of building new bridges to access the social worlds of British officials and prominent businessmen. In the process of constructing their standing as leaders of the Portuguese in Hong Kong, the members of Club Lusitano freely deployed selective aspects of Portuguese culture to gain the recognition of the British administration, the Macau government and the colony’s English-language press. The next chapter sheds light on Hong Kong-born Anglophile Macanese individuals from the late 1800s to the 1930s, and is intended to complicate what we know about the community, its identity and the colonial city in the modern era. We will start seeing the term Hong Kong Macanese, which I use to distinguish this group not only from first-generation migrants and newcomers who were born and raised in Macau, but also Hong Kong-born Macanese who were more active in the Portuguese sphere. This chapter analyzes four Macanese figures from two generations and tackles the use of print culture and political participation to document first the activities of a pro-Portuguese Macanese and then the rise of a new interracial civic identity that associated colonial Hong Kong with ideas of ‘home’ for diasporic communities. I start with Montalto de Jesus, who in 1926 published the scandalous Historic Macao and sparked a public dispute on whether he was

34 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

a Portuguese traitor or Macanese martyr. The chapter then moves on to the lives and pursuits of José Pedro Braga, Leo d’Almada e Castro and Clotilde Barretto, and considers the cosmopolitan worldviews they put forward in improving Hong Kong as a city and a home. Ultimately, Chapter Four argues that these Anglophile Macanese epitomized an emerging sense of attachment to the colony, participating in the formation of an interracial civil society shared with other second-generation settlers of a similar upbringing. The final chapter explores intra-communal tensions and sheds light on competing discourses of Portuguese diasporic nationalism in interwar Hong Kong. Critiquing an overall generalization of the Macanese as a single unit shaped by the colonial government’s unequal policies, we consider the Macanese voices that competed for the authority to interpret what it meant to be ‘Portuguese.’ In the late 1920s, a Portuguese nationalistic movement that subsequently supported the Salazar regime unfolded in Hong Kong and spread to the Macanese communities in China and Japan. Notably, this development mirrored the global wave of emerging anti-colonial nationalisms, but was complicated by political instability in the metropole and a growing dissent against the Anglicization of Macanese youngsters in Hong Kong. Unlike the anti-colonial movements that burgeoned in other Asian port-cities, the Macanese nationalistic consciousness was never anti-colonial, nor was it linked to notions of nation building. This chapter reconsiders the Macanese community from the framework of Benedict Anderson’s ‘imagined community,’ but suggests an alternative type of imagined community that was not shaped by anti-colonial resistance. It emphasizes that the Portuguese identity in East Asia was built through piecemeal narratives that transcended colonial space and encompassed developments taking place between two empires and a distant fatherland. By exploring a century of Macanese activities in colonial Hong Kong, this book seeks to address overarching questions on the nature of human society, the fluidity of identity and the influences of global connectivity. Documenting the gradual creation of various versions of the Macanese that range from the Hong Kong Macanese to pro-Portuguese Macanese patriots provides us with an opportunity to rethink racial construction and diasporic identities as continuous and creative processes that emerge in the face of normative realities. These processes are evolutionary, yet they are not necessarily revolutionary or entirely modern products of hegemonic institutions. Instead, they spiraled out of human instincts and pursuits for advancement, wealth, power or simply a more comfortable life. The struggle for survival, while different for every individual, is inextricably woven into the fabrics of human history. We need to acknowledge this in order to understand race, identity and nationalism as a set of responses individuals and communities

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

35

make in the face of changing situations, often fused with feelings of anxiety, uncertainty and fear. To cope, some people, particularly those with influence, began to build walls and institutionalize imagined differences between people. Through time, this imagination came to be embodied in everyday practices, human subconsciousness and institutional systems; it accumulated, spread and eventually ballooned into misinformed ‘truths’ ingrained in hate, resistance and racialized thinking. By deconstructing race as a contested and ever-changing social invention, we can hopefully begin to see one another as unique individuals shaped by an external world of challenges and an internal universe of ambitions and desires.

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources Ruy Barretto Family Papers, Hong Kong D’Almada e Castro, Leo. ‘My Re-application for British Citizenship under Section 4 (5) of the British Nationality Act 1981.’ 15 October 1990.

Published primary sources Yvan, Melchior. Six Months Among the Malays; And a Year in China. London: James, Blackwood, Paternoster Row, 1855.

Newspapers South China Morning Post The Standard The Straits Times

Secondary sources Aljunied, Syed Muhd Khairudin. ‘British Discourses and Malay Identity in Colonial Singapore.’ Indonesia and the Malay World 37, no. 107 (2009): 1–21. Alves, Leonel. Por Caminhos Solitários (By Lonely Ways). Macau: Edição de autor, 1983. Amaro, Ana Maria 安娜‧瑪里亞‧阿馬羅. Dadi Zhizi: Aomen Tusheng Puren Yanjiu大 地之子──澳門土生葡人研究 (Filhos da Terra; Sons of the Land). Translated by Jin Guoping金國平. Aomen: Aomen wenhua sishu, 1993.

36 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1991. Anderson, Valerie. Race and Power in British India: Anglo-Indians, Class and Identity in the Nineteenth Century. London: I.B. Tauris, 2015. Atunes, Cátia. ‘Free Agents and Formal Institutions in the Portuguese Empire: Towards a Framework of Analysis.’ Portuguese Studies 28, no. 2 (2012): 173–185. Ballantyne, Tony. Between Colonialism and Diaspora: Sikh Cultural Formations in an Imperial World. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 2006. Basch, Linda Green, Nina Glick Schiller and Cristina Szanton Blanc, eds. Nations Unbound: Transnational Projects, Postcolonial Predicaments and Deterritorialized Nation-States. London: Routledge, 2005. Bayly, Susan. ‘The Evolution of Colonial Cultures: Nineteenth-Century Asia.’ In The Oxford History of the British Empire, Vol. III: The Nineteenth Century, edited by Andrew Porter, 447–469. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Bhabha, Homi. ‘Of Mimicry and Man: The Ambivalence of Colonial Discourse.’ October 28 (1984): 125–133. Bickers, Robert. ‘Shanghailanders: The Formation and Identity of the British Settler Community in Shanghai 1843–1937.’ Past & Present 159 (1998): 161–211. Bose, Sugata. A Hundred Horizons: The Indian Ocean Age of Global Empire. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 2006. Boxer, Charles R. ‘A Fidalgo In The Far East, 1708–1726: Antonio de Albuquerque Coelho in Macao.’ The Far Eastern Quarterly 5, no. 4 (1946): 387–410. —. Fidalgos in the Far East 1550–1770. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1968. —. ‘Macao as Religious and Commercial Entrepôt in the 16th and 17th Centuries.’ Acta Asiatica, Bulletin of the Institute of Eastern Culture 26 (1974): 64–90. Braga, José Pedro. The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China: Their Beginning, Settlement and Progress to 1949, Vol. 1. Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau and University of Macau, 2013. Braga, Stuart. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. Bridge, Carl, and Kent Fedorowich, eds. The British World: Diaspora, Culture and Identity. London: Frank Cass, 2003. Burke, John Francis. Mestizo Democracy: The Politics of Crossing Borders. College Station: Texas A&M University Press, 2002. Chan, Catherine S. ‘From Macanese Opium Traders to British Aristocrats: The Trans-imperial Migration of the Pereiras.’ Journal of Migration History 6, no. 2 (2020): 236–261. Chatterjee, Partha. The Nation and Its Fragments: Colonial and Postcolonial Histories. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1993.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

37

Chiu, Richard T. ‘The “Chinese” and the “Mestizos” of the Philippines: Towards a New Interpretation.’ Philippine Studies 50, no. 3 (2002): 327–370. Chu, Cindy Yik-yi, ed. Foreign Communities in Hong Kong, 1840s–1950s. London, Palgrave MacMillan, 2005. Chua Ai Lin. ‘Nation, Race and Language: Discussing Transnational Identities in Colonial Singapore, circa 1930.’ Modern Asian Studies 46, no. 2 (2012): 283–302. —. ‘The Domiciled Identity in Colonial Singapore: Understanding the Straits Chinese Beyond “Race,” “Nation” and “Empire.”’ In Peranakan Chinese in a Globalizing Southeast Asia, edited by Leo Suryadinata, 145–154. Singapore: Chinese Heritage Centre, Nanyang Technological University and Baba House, National University of Singapore, 2010. Cooper, Frederick, and Ann Laura Stoler, eds. Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in A Bourgeois World. London: University of California Press, 1997. Copeland, Matthew. ‘Contested Nationalism and the 1932 Overthrow of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 1993. Costa, Leonor Freire, Nuno Palma and Jaime Reis. ‘The Great Escape? The Contribution of the Empire to Portugal’s Economic Growth, 1500–1800.’ European Review of Economic History 19, no. 1 (2014): 1–22. Costa, Leonor Freire. Império e grupos mercantis: entre o Oriente e o Atlântico (seculo XVII) (Empire and Mercantile Groups: Between the East and the Atlantic (Seventeenth Century). Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2002. Cowman, Krista. ‘Collective Biography.’ In Research Methods for History, 2nd ed., edited by Simon Gunn and Lucy Faire, 83–100. Edinburgh: Edinburgh University Press, 2012. Da Silva, António M. Jorge. Macaenses: The Portuguese in China. Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau, 2015. Da Silva, Jorge, and António M. Pacheco. The Portuguese Community in Hong Kong: A Pictorial History, Vol. I. Macau: Macau Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2007. Daus, Ronald. Portuguese Eurasian Communities in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1989. Davies, Frank, and Graham Maddocks. Blood Red Tabs: General Officer Casualties of the Great War, 1914–1918. South Yorkshire: Pen & Sword Military, 2014. De Almeida, Miguel Vale. ‘From Miscegenation to Creole Identity: Portuguese Colonialism, Brazil, Cape Verde.’ In Creolization: History, Ethnography, Theory, edited by Charles Stewart, 108–132. London: Routledge, 2016. De Napoli, Olindo. ‘Race and Empire: The Legitimation of Italian Colonialism in Juridical Thought.’ The Journal of Modern History 85, no. 4 (2013): 801–832. De Sá, Luís Andrade. The Boys from Macau. Macau: Fundação Oriente, Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1999.

38 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

De Silva, P. Colonial Self-Fashioning in British India, c. 1785–1845: Visualising Identity and Difference. Newcastle upon Tyne: Cambridge Scholars Publishing, 2018. De Witt, Dennis. ‘Enemies, Friends and Relations: Portuguese Eurasians during Malacca’s Dutch Era and Beyond.’ In Portuguese and Luso-Asian Legacies in Southeast Asia, 1511–2011, Vol. 2: Culture and Identity in the Luso-Asian World, Tenacities & Plasticities, edited by Laura Jarnagin, 257–272. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2012. Dejung, Christof, David Motadel, and Jürgen Osterhammel. The Global Bourgeoisie: The Rise of the Middle Class in the Age of Empire. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 2019. Deng Siping 鄧思平. Aomen tusheng Puren澳門土生葡人 (Macaenses). Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian youxian gongsi, 2009. Dias, Alfredo Gomes. ‘The Origins of Macao’s Community in Shanghai, Hong Kong’s Emigration (1850–1909).’ Bulletin of Portuguese-Japanese Studies 17 (2008): 197–224. —. Diáspora Macaense: Macau, Hong Kong, Xangai (1850–1952) (The Macanese Diaspora: Macao, Hong Kong, Shanghai (1850–1952)). Lisbon: Centro Científico de Cultura de Macau, 2014. Ding Xinbao 丁新豹 and Lu Shuying 盧淑櫻. Feiwo zuyi: zhanqian Xianggang de waiji zuqun 非我族裔: 戰前香港的外籍族群 (Not of My Kind: Foreign Communities in Pre-war Hong Kong). Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian, 2014. Do Mar, Diana. ‘Famílias Macaenses: O retrato de uma comunidade no tempo’ (Macanese Families: The Portrait of a Community in Time). Revista Macau, 25 August 2017. Dos Reis Miranda, Tiago C.P., and Bruno Feitler. ‘Apresentação—hierarquias e mobilidade social no Antigo Regime: os grupos intermédios no mundo Português’ (Presentation—Hierarchies and Social Mobility in the Old Regime: Intermediate Groups in the Portuguese World). Revista de História (São Paulo) 175 (2016). Edwards, Penny. ‘Relocating the Interlocutor: Taw Sein Ko (1864–1930) and the Itinerancy of Knowledge in British Burma.’ South East Asia Research 12, no. 3 (2004): 277-335. Fanon, Frantz. Black Skin, White Masks. Translated by Richard Phil. New York: Grove Press, 2008. Fedorowich, Kent, and Andrew S. Thompson, eds. Empire, Migration and Identity in the British World. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2013. Firpo, Christina. ‘Crises of Whiteness and Empire in Colonial Indochina: The Removal of Abandoned Eurasian Children from the Vietnamese Milieu, 1890–1956.’ Journal of Social History 43, no. 3 (2010): 587–613. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vol. III. 1st ed. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996.

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

39

—. Familias Macaenses, Vol. VI. 2nd ed. Macau: Albergue SCM e Bambu–Sociedade e Artes Limitada, Macau, 2017. Frost, Mark Ravinder. ‘Asia’s Maritime Networks and the Colonial Public Sphere, 1840–1920.’ New Zealand Journal of Asian Studies 6, no. 2 (2004): 63–94. —. ‘Cosmopolitan Fragments from a Splintered Isle: ‘Ceylonese’ Nationalism in Late-Colonial Sri Lanka.’ In Ethnicities, Diasporas and ‘Grounded’ Cosmopolitanism in Asia, edited by Joel S. Kahn, 59–69. Singapore: Asia Research Institute, 2004. —. ‘Emporium in Imperio: Nanyang Networks and the Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1914.’ Journal of Southeast Asian Studies 36, no. 1 (2005): 29–66. Furnivall, J.S. Colonial Policy and Practice. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1948. Goh, Daniel P.S. ‘Eyes Turned towards China: Postcolonial Mimicry, Transcultural Elitism and Singapore Chineseness.’ In Race and Multiculturalism in Malaysia and Singapore, edited by Daniel P.S. Goh, Matilda Gabrielillai, Philip Holden and Gaik Cheng Khoo, 53–69. London: Routledge, 2009. Gosh, Durba. Sex and The Family in Colonial India: The Making of Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2006. Ha, Marie-Paule. French Women and the Empire: The Case of Indochina. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2014. Hall, Catherine. White Male and Middle-Class Explorations in Feminism and History. Cambridge: Polity Press, 1992. Hall, Stuart, Chas Critcher, Tony Jefferson, and Brian Roberts. Policing the Crisis: Mugging, the State and Law and Order. London: Macmillan, 1978. Hall, Stuart. ‘Cultural Identity and Diaspora.’ In Identity, Community, Cultural Difference, edited by Jonathan Rutherford, 222–237. London: Lawrence & Wishart, 1990. —. ‘Who Needs Identity?’ In Questions of Cultural Identity, edited by Stuart Hall and Paul du Gay, 1–17. London: Sage, 1996. Harper, Marjory, and Stephen Constantine, eds. Migration and Empire. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2010). Harper, T.N. ‘Afterword: The Malay World, Besides Empire and Nation.’ Indonesia and the Malay World 31, no. 120 (2013): 273–290. Hawes, Christopher J. Poor Relations: The Making of a Eurasian Community in British India, 1773–1833. New York: Routledge, 1996. Hespanha, António Manuel. Filhos da Terra (Sons of the Land). Lisbon: Tinta da China, 2019. Jarnagin, Laura. ‘Introduction: Towards Clarity through Complexity.’ In Portuguese and Luso-Asian Legacies in Southeast Asia, 1511–2011, Vol. 1: The Making of the Luso-Asian World, Intricacies & Engagement, edited by Laura Jarnagin, 1–19. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2011.

40 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Keo, Bernard Z. ‘Between Empire and Nation(s): The Peranakan Chinese of the Straits Settlements, 1890–1948.’ In Colonialism, China and the Chinese: Amidst Empires, edited by Peter Monteath and Matthew P. Fitzpatrick, 99–117. New York: Routledge, 2020. King-O’Riain, Rebecca C., Stephen Small, Minelle Mahtani, Miri Song, and Paul Spickard, eds. Global Mixed Race. London: New York University Press, 2014. Kong, Vivian. ‘Multicultural Britons: Britishness, Diasporas and Cosmopolitanism in Interwar Hong Kong.’ PhD diss., University of Bristol, 2019. —. ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism: Multiethnic Civil Society in Interwar Hong Kong.’ Historical Journal 63, no. 5 (2020): 1281–1302. Koo, Barnabas H.M. ‘The Survival of an Endangered Species: The Macanese in Contemporary Macau.’ PhD diss., University of Western Sydney, 2004. Lees, Lynn Hollen. ‘Being British in Malaya, 1890–1940.’ Journal of British Studies 48, no. 1 (2009): 76–101. Lethbridge, H.J. ‘Condition of the European Working Class in Nineteenth Century Hong Kong.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 15 (1975): 88–112. Lewis, Su Lin. Cities in Motion: Urban Life and Cosmopolitanism in Southeast Asia, 1920–1940. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Limapichart, Thanapol. ‘The Emergence of the Siamese Public Sphere: Colonial Modernity, Print Culture and the Practice of Criticism (1860s–1910s).’ South East Asian Research 17, no. 3 (2009): 361–399. Lorcin, Patricia M.E. Imperial Identities: Stereotyping, Prejudice and Race in Colonial Algeria. London: I.B. Tauris, 1999. Luttikhuis, Bart. ‘Beyond Race: Constructions of “Europeanness” in Late-Colonial Legal Practice in the Dutch East Indies.’ European Review of History 20, no. 4 (2013): 539–558. McGilvray, Dennis B. ‘Dutch Burghers and Portuguese Mechanics: Eurasian Ethnicity in Sri Lanka.’ Comparative Studies in Society and History 24, no. 2 (1982): 235–263. Miles, Robert. Racism after ‘Race Relations.’ New York: Routledge, 1993. Monteiro, Nuno Gonçalo, and Pedro Cardim. ‘La diplomacia Portuguesa durante el Antiguo Régimen: perfil sociológico y trayectorias’ (Portuguese Diplomacy during the Old Regime: Sociological Profile and Trajectories). Cuadernos de Historia Moderna 30 (2005): 7–40. Monteiro, Nuno Gonçalo. ‘Elites locais e mobilidade social em Portugal nos finais do Antigo Regime’ (Local Elites and Social Mobility in Portugal at the End of the Old Regime). Análise Social 32, no. 4 (1997): 335–368. Morais, Isabel. ‘Darwinism, Freemasonry and Print Culture: The Construction Of Identity Of The Macanese Colonial Elites In The Late Nineteenth Century.’

Prologue: Bet ween Empires

41

In Macao—The Formation Of A Global City, edited by C.X. George Wei, 53–72. New York: Routledge, 2014. Newman, John Henry. A Portrait in Letters. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. Pence, Katherine, and Andrew Zimmerman. ‘Transnationalism.’ German Studies Review 35, no. 3 (2012): 495–500. Pereira, J.F. Marques, ed. Ta-ssi-yang-kuo: Archivos e annaes do extreme-oriente Portuguez, Vol. 1 (Ta-ssi-yang-kuo: Archives and Annals of the Portuguese Far East Vol. 1). Lisbon: Antiga Casa Bertrand–José Bastos, 1899. Pereira, Mariana Pinto Leitão. ‘The Macanese Encontros: Remembrance in Diaspora ‘Homecomings.’ In Memory, Migration and Travel, edited by Sabine Marschall, 170–188. New York: Routledge, 2018. Pinto, Celsa. Trade and Finance in Portuguese India: A Study of the Portuguese Country Trade 1770–1840. New Delhi: Ashok Kumar Mittal, 1994. Pomfret, David M. Youth and Empire: Trans-colonial Childhoods in British and French Asia. California: Stanford University Press, 2016. Porter, Andrew, ed. The Oxford History of the British Empire, Vol. III: The Nineteenth Century. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 1999. Reid, Richard. ‘Past and Presentism: the “Precolonial” and the Foreshortening of African History.’ The Journal of African History 52, no. 2 (2011): 135–155. Said, Edward. Orientalism. London: Routledge, 1978. Salmon, Claudine. ‘On the Track of the Straits Baba Diaspora: Liec Qingui and His “Summary Account of a Trip to the East” (1889).’ Chinese Southern Diaspora Studies 5 (2011–2012): 116–145. Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political History. West Sussex: John Wiley & Sons, 2012. Sinn, Elizabeth, and Christopher Munn. Meeting Place: Encounters across Cultures in Hong Kong, 1841–1984. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2017. Sinn, Elizabeth. Pacific Crossing: California Gold, Chinese Migration, and the Making of Hong Kong. Hong Kong: University of Hong Kong Press, 2012. Spivak, Gayatri Chakravorty. Can the Subaltern Speak? Basingstoke: Macmillan, 1988. Stanley, Liz. The Auto/Biographical I: The Theory and Practice of Feminist Auto/ Biography. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1992. Stoler, Ann. ‘Making Empire Respectable: The Politics of Race and Sexual Morality in 20th-Century Colonial Cultures.’ American Ethnologist 16, no. 4 (1989): 634–660. —. ‘Sexual Affronts and Racial Frontiers: European Identities and the Cultural Politics of Exclusion in Colonial Southeast Asia.’ Comparative Studies in Society and History 34, no. 3 (1992): 514–551. —. Race and the Education of Desire: Foucault’s History of Sexuality and The Colonial Order of Things. Durham, NC: Duke University Press, 1995.

42 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Suryadinata, Leo. ‘Pre-war Indonesian Nationalism and the Peranakan Chinese.’ Indonesia no. 11 (1971): 83–94. Tan, Antonio S. ‘The Chinese Mestizos and the Formation of the Filipino Nationality.’ Archipel 32, no. 1 (1986): 141–162. Taylor, Jean Gelman. The Social World of Batavia: Europeans and Eurasians in Colonial Indonesia. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1983. Texeira, Manuel. ‘The Origin of the Macanese.’ Review of Culture no. 20 (1994). Wesley-Smith, Peter. ‘Anti-Chinese Legislation in Hong Kong.’ In Precarious Balance: Hong Kong between China and Britain 1842–1992, edited by Ming K. Chan, 91–106. London: Routledge, 1994. Wickberg, Edgar. ‘The Chinese Mestizo in Philippine History.’ Journal of Southeast Asian History 5, no. 1 (1964): 62–100. Wordie, Jason. ‘The Hong Kong Portuguese Community and Its Connections with Hong Kong University, 1941–1941.’ In An Impossible Dream: Hong Kong University from Foundation to Re-establishment, 1910–1950, edited by Chan Lau Kit-ching and Peter Cunich, 163–174. New York: Oxford University Press, 2002. Ye Nong葉農. Duhai chongsheng: shijiu shiji Aomen Putaoya ren yiju Xianggang yanjiu渡海重生：19世纪澳門葡萄牙人移居香港研究 (A Study of Portuguese Emigrants from Macau to Hong Kong in the Nineteenth Century). Aomen: Aomen tebie xingzheng chu zhengfu wenhua ju, 2014.

1

Crossing Imperial Borders Abstract The lives of a Macanese clerk, a businessman and a newspaper editor reveal the dynamic and continuous relationship between Macau and Hong Kong. Owing to the lack of exciting opportunities in the Portuguese enclave, aspiring Macanese men braved their first move to British Hong Kong in 1842, pulled by pre-existing employment, partnerships and unfulfilled dreams. The arrival of the Macanese caused a domino effect, prompting Catholic missionaries to transfer their headquarters to Hong Kong where they would set up churches and schools that catered to a growing population. As against common perceptions of Macau as a ‘prelude’ to Hong Kong’s acquisition, this chapter shows how Macanese migrants created an unprecedented meeting point between the Portuguese and British imperial spheres. Keywords: Macau, Hong Kong, migration, British companies, Catholicism, urban culture

In April 1839, Britain and China stood on the brink of war, with all hell about to break loose. The British Superintendent of Trade in China, Captain Charles Elliot, then in a Canton lockdown, wrote to his wife Clara in Macau with the instruction, ‘Desire Leonardo to send me up a copy of my secret letter to [Commander] Blake [of Her Majesty’s Sloop ‘Larne’] by the first safe hand. We want it for our dispatches. This was dated March 23rd 1839.’1 Elliot had instructed for his entrusted Macanese clerk Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to deliver an important letter to advise Blake, which read: ‘if you shall not hear from me in some certain and assuring manner with the space of six days […] I trust that you will proceed in Her Majesty’s sloop under your command to the Bocca Tigris,’ the naval gateway to Canton. Elliot also asked Blake to avoid 1 Susanna Hoe and Derek Roebuck, The Taking of Hong Kong: Charles and Clara Elliott in China Waters (Surrey: Curzon Press, 1999), 75.

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_ch01

44 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

any intercourse with the British shipping, much of which had been engaged in the ‘illicit traffic’ of opium.2 Five months later, the First Opium War broke out, lasting for almost three years. The Treaty of Nanking concluded the war, earning the British a long-anticipated opportunity to open up trade with China under British terms.3 The Qing government ceded Hong Kong to Britain and in 1842, D’Almada sailed into the waters of Hong Kong as a leading clerk of the new colonial government. He had been a clerk at the office of the Superintendent of Trade since 1836 and the Britons trusted he was a good fit for the new Hong Kong administration. The history of British Hong Kong is intertwined with the narratives of Portuguese Macau in various ways. Captain John Weddell’s first voyage to Macau in 1637 marked the start of Britain’s tireless attempts to seek trading rights in China. 4 For three centuries, the British sought to obtain equal trading rights in Macau but the Portuguese government, in line with the Qing dynasty’s condemnation of increasing British activities in China, repeatedly avoided their demands. Due to this, historians like Rogério Puga and Austin Coates have perceived Macau as a ‘prelude’ to Hong Kong’s acquisition; yet the individual stories of Macanese migrants reveal a dynamic and uninterrupted interplay between the British and Portuguese imperial spheres.5 This was manifested in the transfer of Macanese workers to Hong Kong along with their employers, which helped ease the grounding of a prospective British port-city. Social networks and business partnerships that were established in Macau became indispensable tools to enter the worlds of bourgeois Britons in Hong Kong. Religious missions also perceived Hong Kong as an escape from Macau’s corrupt Catholic authorities, establishing more ambitious initiatives in the colony than they had in the Portuguese enclave. For many Macanese men and women, Hong Kong was simply a new place to pursue old dreams. Old dreams that found no place in an almost three-hundred-year-old enclave reeking of urban decay and ruled by a premeditated cluster of Macanese oligarchs. By the mid-eighteenth century, foreigners visiting Macau often 2 The lockdown took place seven days after the letter to Blake was written. For the letter, see British and Foreign State Papers, 1840–41, Vol. 29 (London: James Ridgway and Sons, 1857), 954. 3 The British took Hong Kong in January 1841 and hoisted the British flag at Possession Point. The war continued until the British, led by Sir Henry Pottinger, seized Amoy, Ningpo, Shanghai and f inally Nanking. China signed the Treaty of Nanking and on 26 June 1843, Hong Kong officially became a Crown Colony of the British empire. 4 Austin Coates, Macao and the British, 1637–1842: Prelude to Hong Kong (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1966). 5 Coates, Macao and the British, 1637–1842; Rogério Miguel Puga, The British Presence in Macau, 1635–1793, trans. Monica Andrade (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2013).

Crossing Imperial Borders

45

spoke of the enclave’s decadence, their perceptions amplified by Portugal’s loss of dominance in the South China Sea and the dwindling of the Portuguese empire.6 Portuguese friar José de Jesus Maria linked Macau’s ‘misery’ with the termination of Portugal’s lucrative trade with Japan, providing a view that has shaped historical and contemporary perceptions of Macau as a poverty-stricken city.7 Other visitors linked Macau’s downfall to the idleness of its ‘wretched’ Luso-Asian subjects. Dutch-American merchant André Everard van Braam Houckgeest, for instance, blamed Macau’s decay on the ‘pride and grace of its first Portuguese inhabitants’ and the ‘still bastardised’ Macanese people.8 This was echoed in English traveler George Staunton’s accounts. Staunton observed that the ‘Portuguese,’ by birth or descent, preferred to engage in commerce and navigation, but the majority refused to become laborers, artists or shopkeepers. He took note of a striking contrast between ‘the busy and unceasing industry of the Chinese’ and ‘the indolence of a Portugueze, sauntering about the square of the senate house in the intervals between matins and vespers.’9 Certainly, the above descriptions highlight aspects of a city long past its heyday, but they leaned heavily towards a prejudiced view, particularly from Britons, of Portugal and the Portuguese as Europe’s odd one out.10 Portugal may have lost its dominance in the South China Sea, but Macau flowered into a summer residence for foreign merchants dashing to join the Canton trade, a tiny window to a sizeable yet mysterious Chinese empire.11 6 English traveler and writer William Hickey, for instance, described Macau as a city that ‘bespoke the acme of poverty and misery.’ William Hickey, Memoirs of William Hickey (1749–1775) (New York: Alfred Knopf, 1923), 196. 7 José de Jesus Maria, ‘Do estado de Macau no tempo presente (1745)’ (The State of Macau at the Present Time (1745), in De Longe à China (Far From China), ed. Carlos Pinto Santos Orlando Neves (Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1988), 181–182. 8 Houckgeest traveled with the Dutch East India Company (VOC) to China. André Everard Van Braam Houckgeest, Voyage de l’ambassade de la Compagnie des Indes orientales hollandaises, vers l’empereur de la Chine, dans les années 1794 & 1795, Vol. 2 (Voyage of the Ambassador of the VOC, To the Emperor of China in the Years 1794 and 1795, vol. 2) (Philadelphia: A. Philadelphie, 1797), 262. 9 George Staunton, An Authentic Account of An Embassy from the King of Great Britain to the Emperor of China (London: G. Nicol, 1797), 586, 588. 10 For negative perceptions regarding Portugal, see C.B. Chaves, O Portugal de D. João V visto por três forasteiros (The Portugal of D. João V as Seen by Three Outsiders) (Lisbon: Biblioteca Nacional, 1983), 9; Maria Clara Paulino, ‘The “Alien” European: British Accounts of Portugal and the Portuguese, 1780–1850,’ in The British Abroad since the Eighteenth Century, Vol. 1: Travellers and Tourists, ed. Martin Farr and Xavier Guégan (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013), 101–116. 11 Since 1757, the Canton system emerged as China’s means of allowing Chinese-controlled foreign trade by centering trading activities in Canton. During the spring and summer months, foreigners—a huge portion of them British—used Macau as a summer residence under the Qing government’s policy that they leave Canton between the trading seasons. For the Canton trade

46 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Chinese compradors and so-called ‘pilots,’ who navigated ships from Macau to Whampoa or directed ships from the outer waters to Macau, profited from this new outlet.12 Middle-class Macanese families, who had since the late sixteenth century enjoyed a certain extent of political autonomy through the Leal Senado (Municipal Council), became acquainted with British merchants, forging not only a new sociability but also roles as landlords and business partners to the Britons.13 The dominance of a Macanese oligarchy over the enclave’s politics and finances has not gone undocumented in historical writing. The Portuguese minister for the Navy and Overseas Territories, Martinho Melo e Castro, discovered its existence after the Canton trade renewed Lisbon’s interests over Macau. The power of the Macanese merchants alarmed Melo e Castro, prompting him to write a letter of instruction to the Viceroy of India regarding the shocking autonomy of Macau’s Leal Senado and their practice of kowtowing to Chinese authorities.14 For the Portuguese minister, the Senado had turned into an organ dominated by degregados (exiles), ignorant of government affairs and preoccupied only with finding fortune. A Portuguese poet who briefly lived in Macau from September 1789 to March 1790 shared this observation. He concluded his travels with a sonnet dedicated to Macau’s social woes, which highlighted the lack of command in the enclave’s government (Um governo sem mando) and the superiority of the senate (Um Senado que a tudo é superior).15 Without an opportunity to enter Macau’s barricaded oligarchy, ordinary Macanese men and women found little space for maneuver. It was under such circumstances that British Hong Kong emerged as a promising destination and Macau, see Zhang Tingmao張廷茂, Ming Qing shiqi Aomen haishang maoyi shi 明清時期 澳門海上貿易史 (History of Macau’s Maritime Trade During the Ming–Qing Period) (Aomen: Aoya kan chuban she gongsi, 2004); George Bryan Souza, ‘Merchants and Commerce in Asia and the Portuguese Empire over the Long Eighteenth Century,’ Review of Culture 34 (2010), 64–76. 12 ‘Pilots’ were crucial in the trade as foreigners were not allowed to pilot ships to Canton. Paul A. Van Dyke, The Canton Trade: Life and Enterprise on the Chia Coast, 1700–1845 (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007), 35–50. 13 Leading Macanese merchants created the Leal Senado in 1583 with the aim of allowing self-government and having a permanent political institution to administer Macau. For this, see António M. Hespanha, Panorama da História Institucional e Jurídica de Macau (Overview of Macau’s Institutional and Legal History) (Macau: Fundação Macau, 1995), 17. 14 Martinho de Melo e Castro, ‘Instrução para o governador e capitão-geral da India’ (Instructions for the Governor and Captain-General of India), in Neves, De Longe à China, 243–259. 15 Cited in Rogério Miguel Puga, ‘A carnavalização hiperbólica da Macau setecentista num soneto de Bocage (c.1789) em prol da figurado ouvidor Lázaro da Silva Ferreira’ (The Hyperbolic Carnivalisation of Eighteenth-Century Macau in a Sonnet by Bocage (c. 1789) in Favour of the Ombudsman Lázaro da Silva Ferreira), in Estudos sobre Macau e outros orientes (Studies about Macau and Other Orientations), ed. Monica Simas (São Paulo: Paulistana Editora, 2017), 233–234.

Crossing Imperial Borders

47

for curtailed pursuits and unfulfilled hopes of wealth, power, progress and freedom. Macanese migrants pinned their hopes on the new colony, imagining Hong Kong as a more desirable place to find employment, grow families and raise children. As news spread regarding an indisputable British victory in the Opium War, foreign enterprises such as Jardine, Matheson & Co., Gibb, Livingston & Co., David Sassoon & Co. and Dent & Co. began to transfer their headquarters between the late 1930s and early 1940s.16 Immediately, Chinese men made the move to Hong Kong, a few establishing new careers as compradors and intermediaries.17 Notably, the arrival of the Macanese had a domino effect. It convinced Catholic missionaries to transfer their headquarters to Hong Kong for the growing ‘Portuguese’ population. In light of Macau’s strict press censorship, Macanese businessmen set up more Portuguese-language newspapers than the population of a few hundred needed. Macanese migrants served as a point of contact between the Portuguese and British imperial spheres; their movement marked a transitional moment when the two domains were conflated through the extension of Anglo-Macanese partnerships and the dissemination of Portuguese culture in the British colony. To further grasp the impetus behind the first Macanese diaspora, we begin by first retreating to late eighteenth-century Macau where we unravel the threads of an unbending middle-class Macanese dominance.

The tightknit oligarchy For some time, Macau was known as a haven for fugitives, businessmen and metropolitan commoners looking to escape the monarchy’s unerring protection of Portuguese nobility.18 It is true that the unfolding of intercontinental trade under the Portuguese empire created new paths of social mobility, which emerged in line with substantial economic growth in the metropole.19 Outside Portugal, the Portuguese crown’s royal permission 16 Lin Guangzhi林廣志, ‘Wanqing Aomen huashang de jueqi ji qi shehui diwei de bianhua’ 晚清澳門華商的崛起及其社會地位的變化 (The Rise of Chinese Merchants in the Late Qing Era and their Transforming Social Roles) in Aomen shi xinbian—diyi ce澳門史新編—第一冊 (A New History of Macau, vol. 1), ed. Wu Zhiliang, Jin Guoping and Tang Kaijian吳志良、金國 平、湯開建 (Aomen: Aomen jijin hui, 2008), 223. 17 Kaori Abe, ‘Middlemen, Colonial Officials, and Corruption: The Rise and Fall of Government Compradors in Hong Kong, 1840s–1850s,’ Modern Asian Studies 52, no. 5 (2018), 1774–1775. 18 For social mobility and nobility in in Portugal, see Monteiro, ‘Elites locais’; Dos Reis Miranda and Feitler, ‘Apresentação—hierarquias e mobilidade social.’ 19 Costa, Palma and Reis, ‘The Great Escape?’

Crossing Imperial Borders

47

for curtailed pursuits and unfulfilled hopes of wealth, power, progress and freedom. Macanese migrants pinned their hopes on the new colony, imagining Hong Kong as a more desirable place to find employment, grow families and raise children. As news spread regarding an indisputable British victory in the Opium War, foreign enterprises such as Jardine, Matheson & Co., Gibb, Livingston & Co., David Sassoon & Co. and Dent & Co. began to transfer their headquarters between the late 1930s and early 1940s.16 Immediately, Chinese men made the move to Hong Kong, a few establishing new careers as compradors and intermediaries.17 Notably, the arrival of the Macanese had a domino effect. It convinced Catholic missionaries to transfer their headquarters to Hong Kong for the growing ‘Portuguese’ population. In light of Macau’s strict press censorship, Macanese businessmen set up more Portuguese-language newspapers than the population of a few hundred needed. Macanese migrants served as a point of contact between the Portuguese and British imperial spheres; their movement marked a transitional moment when the two domains were conflated through the extension of Anglo-Macanese partnerships and the dissemination of Portuguese culture in the British colony. To further grasp the impetus behind the first Macanese diaspora, we begin by first retreating to late eighteenth-century Macau where we unravel the threads of an unbending middle-class Macanese dominance.

The tightknit oligarchy For some time, Macau was known as a haven for fugitives, businessmen and metropolitan commoners looking to escape the monarchy’s unerring protection of Portuguese nobility.18 It is true that the unfolding of intercontinental trade under the Portuguese empire created new paths of social mobility, which emerged in line with substantial economic growth in the metropole.19 Outside Portugal, the Portuguese crown’s royal permission 16 Lin Guangzhi林廣志, ‘Wanqing Aomen huashang de jueqi ji qi shehui diwei de bianhua’ 晚清澳門華商的崛起及其社會地位的變化 (The Rise of Chinese Merchants in the Late Qing Era and their Transforming Social Roles) in Aomen shi xinbian—diyi ce澳門史新編—第一冊 (A New History of Macau, vol. 1), ed. Wu Zhiliang, Jin Guoping and Tang Kaijian吳志良、金國 平、湯開建 (Aomen: Aomen jijin hui, 2008), 223. 17 Kaori Abe, ‘Middlemen, Colonial Officials, and Corruption: The Rise and Fall of Government Compradors in Hong Kong, 1840s–1850s,’ Modern Asian Studies 52, no. 5 (2018), 1774–1775. 18 For social mobility and nobility in in Portugal, see Monteiro, ‘Elites locais’; Dos Reis Miranda and Feitler, ‘Apresentação—hierarquias e mobilidade social.’ 19 Costa, Palma and Reis, ‘The Great Escape?’

48 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

for individual traders to participate in overseas trade translated into unprecedented opportunities.20 But as with much in life, these chances did not fall to all. Some solteiro (bachelor) merchants thus set off for Macau in search of riches. Word had it that Macau was a cidade de mulheres (city of women), crowded with affluent women waiting to find life partners. With a relatively large female population of 1,500 and a small male population of two hundred, affluent Macanese families offered handsome dowries in hopes that European men, instead of mixed-bred deportees or soldiers from Goa, would take their daughters’ hands.21 Metropolitan Portuguese men who successfully entered rich Macanese families eyed not only the dowries, but also the life-changing opportunity of becoming a part of Macau’s tightknit oligarchy. This often meant getting a seat in the Leal Senado through internal nomination. In addition to this, one gained social prestige and wealth with the opportunities of joining the ‘charitable’ Santa Casa de Miscericórdia (Holy House of Mercy) and lucrative transatlantic business deals.22 Like its counterparts in other overseas Portuguese colonies, Macau’s Santa Casa functioned as an exclusive brotherhood amongst local elites and provided merchant members with capital from donations and unclaimed inheritances to facilitate maritime trade.23 Although they set off under the empire’s policies, solteiros active in Portugal’s overseas territories freely shifted between associations for their benefit. 20 Costa, Império e grupos mercantis; Atunes, ‘Free Agents and Formal Institutions.’ 21 The number was estimated by Scottish sea captain Sir Alexander Hamilton. José de Jesus Maria, Ásia sínica e japónica, Vol. II (Chinese and Japanese Asia, vol. 2) (Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau and Centro de Estudos Marítimos de Macau, 1988), 221; Leonor Diaz de Seabra and Maria de Deus Beites Manso, ‘Escravatura, concubinagem e casamento em Macau: séculos XVI–XVIII (Slavery, Concubinage, and Marriage in Macau: Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries), Afro-Ásia 49 (2014). For affluent families presenting handsome dowries, see Ana Maria Amaro, ‘The “Illusive” Macanese Women.’ Review of Culture 24 (1995), 7–14. 22 For developments regarding the Senado’s autonomy, see Tereza Sena, ‘Macau’s Autonomy in Portuguese Historiography (19th and Early 20th Centuries),’ Bulletin of Portuguese—Japanese Studies 17 (2008), 79–112. See also the personal connections between senate members in Ana Maria Amaro, ‘1842 elections for the Macao senate and the Homens Bons (“Good Men”) of the territory,’ Review of Culture 19 (1994) 17–32. 23 Isabel dos Guimarães Sá, ‘Ganhos da terra e ganhos do mar: caridade e comércio na Miscericórdia de Macau (Secúlos XVII–XVIII)’ (Land Gains and Sea Gains: Charity and Trade in Macau’s Miscericórdia (Seventeenth to Eighteenth Centuries), Ler História 44 (2003), 45–57. For the Santa Casa in other overseas Portuguese colonies, see A.J.R. Russell-Wood, Fidalgos and Philanthropists: the Santa Casa da Miscericórdia of Bahia, 1550–1755 (London: Palgrave, 1968); Isabel dos Guimarães Sá, Quando o rico se faz pobre: Miscericórdias, caridade e poder no império Português (When the Rich Becomes Poor: Miscericórdias, Charity and Power in the Portuguese Empire) (Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses, 1997).

Crossing Imperial Borders

49

They made use of Portugal’s trading posts while dissociating from Portugal and the Estado da Índia when war broke out between Portugal and the Dutch VOC.24 In Macau, Portuguese men who found rich Macanese wives integrated into the bourgeois Macanese world, using their Portuguese status only when conducting transcolonial trade within the empire’s overseas borders. The life of Manuel Pereira presents us with a good case study. Pereira travelled from Portugal to Macau in the 1770s, where he married Rosa Pires Viana, the daughter of a wealthy Macanese merchant belonging to the enclave’s oligarchy.25 Nicolau Pires Viana brought Manuel Pereira into the Santa Casa de Miscericórdia, where he subsequently served as the institution’s president from 1798 to 1806. In the ensuing decades, Manuel Pereira’s public profile ballooned. He became an established opium trader, a Senado member and a council attorney. In 1810, Pereira joined a business partner, Januário Agostinho de Almeida in leading the Macanese to lobby the Portuguese Crown for the establishment of Casa do Seguro de Macau (Insurance House of Macau), meant to secure their maritime trade and profit from marine insurance. By the turn of the century, Pereira had transformed from a metropolitan sojourner to one of the richest Macanese men in Macau. His wealth impressed foreign residents, rousing even those who disdained the Portuguese. One of the first American women to reside in China, Harriett Low, was not shy in voicing her biased perceptions of ‘pure blood Portuguese’ as ‘black’ people only ‘above half caste.’26 Low’s xenophobia extended to Catholicism. She described the Catholic faith as nothing but ‘bigotry’ and ‘superstition,’ writing that a nun she met was so ‘excessively ugly’ that no gentleman would have attempted to stop her from taking the black veil.27 The Pereiras were openly Macanese yet their wealth captivated Harriett Low. Low called their villa the ‘perfect place,’ with eighteen Caffres, twelve sepoys and Chinese servants. She adored Manuel Pereira’s third Macanese wife, Antónia Vicência Baptista 24 Sanjay Subrahmanyam, The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political and Economic History (West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012), 255–257. 25 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 1st ed., 987; For Pires Viana’s involvement with the Santa Casa, see Ivo Carneiro de Sousa, ‘Orfandade feminina, mercado matrimonial e elites sociais em Macau (século XVIII)’ (Women, Marriage and Family in Macau: Female Orphans, Marriage Market and Social Elites in Macau (Eighteenth Century)). Review of Culture 3, no. 22 (2007), 24, 31–35. 26 Harriett Low Hillard, Lights and Shadows of A Macao Life: The Journal of Harriett Low, Travelling Spinster (Woodinville, WA: History Bank, 2002), 96–97. 27 Rosemarie W.N. Lamas, Everything in Style. Harriett Low’s Macau (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2006), 79; Harriett Low Hillard, My Mother’s Journal: A Young Lady’s Diary of Five Years Spent in Manila, Macao and the Cape of Good Hope from 1829–1834 (Boston: G.H. Ellis, 1900), 99–100.

50 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Cortela Pereira, remarking she was a ‘pleasant’ woman, ‘splendidly dressed in a rich crimson velvet pelisse neatly trimmed, with a handsome white hat.’ In a huge contrast to how she despised lower-class Macanese and their ‘eastern’ practices, Low admiringly watched a Pereira smoke his hookah, making her feel like she was ‘in the eastern world.’28 In addition to Low, the Pereiras maintained an amicable relationship with Macau’s British traders, leasing a part of their property, the Casa Garden, to the English East India Company. Manuel Pereira’s youngest daughter, Maria Ana Josefa Pereira, nicknamed Mariquita, was chosen as a bridesmaid alongside Harriett Low for the wedding of English surgeon Thomas Richardson Colledge during the 1930s.29 One has to note that maintaining amicability with foreigners was not a given during this time. Apart from Harriett Low’s disdain of the Portuguese, Ellen Coolidge, who travelled to Macau from Boston with her merchant husband remarked that the city’s ‘Portuguese’ were ‘fit for nothing, either as masters or servants.’30 Manuel Pereira made a fortune through opium, at times using his metropolitan Portuguese status to negotiate business deals. Records show Pereira’s name in transactions with Goa and as an intermediary for Spaniard traders.31 During the 1810s, the Leal Senado sent Pereira to Bahia and then Daman to negotiate for the right to sell ships to Brazil. He eventually gained King Dom João VI’s approval to restrict the construction of ships to a market of Portuguese subjects. This achievement heightened Pereira’s prominence as a leader and a businessman in Macau. Between 1817 and 1821, he commissioned ten ships carrying opium to India and then sent the vessels straight to the Brazilian market. In Daman, Pereira manufactured Principe Regente, which his contacts there hired to send opium and cotton to China.32 To repay the King of Damão, the Senado acquired loans from Pereira and another Macanese to build four warships. For his devotion to the Senado, Manuel Pereira achieved nobility (Fig. 3), earning the honour of fidalgo cavaleiro (knight nobleman) in 1816 and the title Conselheiro (Councillor).33 28 Lamas, Everything in Style, 218–219. 29 Hillard, My Mother’s Journal, 176. 30 ‘Ellen W. Randolph Coolidge to John M. Forbes,’ 22 January 1840, Ms. N-2404, Collidge-Lowell Family Papers, Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston. 31 In 1805, for instance, a Portuguese vessel commanded by a Goan Portuguese delivered ninety-six boxes of Malwa opium to Macau for Vitorino Manoel do Loreto, Manuel Pereira or his partner, Januário Agostinho de Almeida. Teotonio R. de Souza, Goa to Me (New Delhi: Oxford University Press,1994), 131. 32 De Souza, Goa to Me, 146. 33 For an extensive account of Macanese trade with Brazil, see Ernestina Carreira, ‘Navegação comercial entre o Brasil e a Ásia Portuguesa durante a estadia da corte no Brasil 1808–1821’

Crossing Imperial Borders

51

Figure 3  Manuel Pereira, c. 1800

The portrait shows Manuel Pereira with symbols of Portuguese nobility, represented by a Grand Cross star and sash, a Portuguese insignia of the Order of the Immaculate Conception of Vila Viçosa, together with his family crest (courtesy of Jorge Forjaz). 34

Manuel Pereira and his Macanese partners strove to secure their privileges by keeping their alliance tightknit and exclusive to the access of trusted business partners and close family members. Intermarriage within the (Commercial Navigation between Brazil and Portuguese Asia during the Court of Brazil) in ACTAS do Congresso Internacional Espaço Atlântico de Antigo Regime: poderes e sociedade, Lisbon, November 2–5, 2005, 8. 34 Manuel Pereira’s portrait from Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. VI, 2nd ed., 72.

52 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

oligarchy, hence, was not uncommon. After Viana died in the early 1900s, Manuel Pereira married twice more, to the daughters of another Macanese elite, Inácio Baptista Cortela de Sousa e Albuquerque.35 Albuquerque was a prominent merchant, a member of the Casa dos Seguros and held positions with the Municipal Council.36 He eventually claimed nobility in 1822 after justifying his case to the Portuguese authorities in Brazil.37 Pereira’s youngest daughter Mariquita married her maternal cousin Lourenço Caetano Cortela Marques, an established member of the Leal Senado who was later elected city attorney.38 For centuries, this pattern of middle-class dominance remained feasible across the Portuguese imperial sphere. Membership remained inaccessible to the general public, passed only from one elite generation to another. Manuel Pereira’s children succeeded his status, networks and wealth in different ways. António Vicente took over his father’s legacy and was welcomed into the Santa Casa by vote. In 1816, he acquired the titles fidalgo de cota de armas (Gentleman of Coat of Arms) and fidalgo cavaleiro da Casa Imperial do Brasil (Knight Gentleman of the Imperial Household of Brazil). António carried on his father’s close relationship to Macau’s Britons, helping the EIC secure a small plot of land for a Protestant cemetery despite opposition from the Catholic authorities.39 Manuel Pereira’s second son Manuel Félix served as a treasurer in the Municipal Council during the 1830s and together with his brother, owned shares of the Casa do Seguro. 40 The pattern of inherited status was not restricted to the Pereira family but was a wider practice amongst the Macanese elites in an attempt to keep their privileges safe and far from the reach of outsiders. The monopoly of wealthy businessmen over the enclave’s social, economic and political aspects also meant there would be little left on the plates of lower-class 35 Jorge Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. VI, 2nd ed. (Macau: Albergue SCM e Bambu–Sociedade e Artes Limitada 2017), 72. For the Cortela de Sousa e Albuquerque family, see Miguel Metelo de Seixas, ‘Heráldica Portuguesa em Macau: as pedras de armas de Domingos Pio Marques e de sua descendência’ (Portuguese Heraldry in Macau: The Coat of Arms of Domingos Pio Marques and His Descendants), Lúsiada 2, no. 8 (2011), 430–431. 36 Lindsay Ride and May Ride, The Voices of Macao Stones (Hong Kong: University of Hong Kong Press, 1999), 109; Amar Farooqui, Smuggling as Subversion: Colonialism, Indian Merchants, and the Politics of Opium, 1790–1843 (New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2005), 238. 37 ‘Autos de justificação de nobreza de Inácio Baptista Cortela Sousa de Albuquerque’ (Nobility justification of Inácio Baptista Cortela Sousa de Albuquerque), PT/TT/CCVC/004/0012/00023, Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Lisbon. 38 De Seixas, ‘Heráldica Portuguesa em Macau,’ 426. 39 Lindsay Ride and May Ride, An East India Company Cemetery: Protestant Burials in Macau (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1996), 63. 40 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 2nd ed., 988, 987, 989.

Crossing Imperial Borders

53

Macanese subjects. The strong grip of Macanese elites over various aspects of the enclave thus prompted aspiring Macanese men and women to move sixty miles away to the British colony of Hong Kong when it opened in 1842. Some middle-class Macanese looking to establish themselves away from the competition of their siblings and relatives arrived in Hong Kong while the majority hoped that the British colony would provide a more progressive and stimulating atmosphere for personal and professional growth. The next few individual stories are thread together by the idea that migration to early British Hong Kong was not completely of new beginnings but marked by various continuities, particularly as Macanese men brought across the border dreams, skills, culture and pre-existing networks that were cultivated in Macau. Still with a strong affinity to the Portuguese enclave, most f irst-generation Macanese migrants retained connections to Macau, creating unprecedented synergy between the two ports.

A clerk, a businessman and a newspaper editor On top of the anxieties that came with migration, moving to colonial Hong Kong in the 1840s was in itself a challenging experience. Earlier on in a meeting at the London Parliament, Lord Palmerston had dismissed Hong Kong as a ‘barren rock.’41 The Colonial Treasurer Robert Montgomery Martin observed upon arrival that there were ‘no assignable grounds for the political or military occupancy of Hong Kong.’42 This barren rock housed an estimated 7,500 native inhabitants scattered over some twenty fishing hamlets and villages. Crime awaited and disease seeped through the lack of regulation. Horrified by the conditions, Martin suggested in 1844 for Britain to abandon the island. He maintained that European investors in Hong Kong were going through ‘a sort of hallucination,’ throwing cash into a hapless situation. 43 Nevertheless, hopeful migrants and aspiring businessmen saw the newly established colony as a cradle for better opportunities. 44 41 Frank Welsh, A History of Hong Kong (London: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994), 109. 42 Cited from Stephen Chiu and Tai-Lok Lui, Hong Kong: Becoming A Chinese Global City (London: Routledge, 2009), 16. 43 John M. Carroll, Edge of Empires: Chinese Elites and British Colonials in Hong Kong (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007), 38. 44 In 1846, there were five Macanese working in the government, fourteen in foreign newspaper companies, twenty-seven in commercial firms and one in the banking sector. For this, see The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for 1846 (Hong Kong: The China Mail, 1846), 994–997.

Crossing Imperial Borders

53

Macanese subjects. The strong grip of Macanese elites over various aspects of the enclave thus prompted aspiring Macanese men and women to move sixty miles away to the British colony of Hong Kong when it opened in 1842. Some middle-class Macanese looking to establish themselves away from the competition of their siblings and relatives arrived in Hong Kong while the majority hoped that the British colony would provide a more progressive and stimulating atmosphere for personal and professional growth. The next few individual stories are thread together by the idea that migration to early British Hong Kong was not completely of new beginnings but marked by various continuities, particularly as Macanese men brought across the border dreams, skills, culture and pre-existing networks that were cultivated in Macau. Still with a strong affinity to the Portuguese enclave, most f irst-generation Macanese migrants retained connections to Macau, creating unprecedented synergy between the two ports.

A clerk, a businessman and a newspaper editor On top of the anxieties that came with migration, moving to colonial Hong Kong in the 1840s was in itself a challenging experience. Earlier on in a meeting at the London Parliament, Lord Palmerston had dismissed Hong Kong as a ‘barren rock.’41 The Colonial Treasurer Robert Montgomery Martin observed upon arrival that there were ‘no assignable grounds for the political or military occupancy of Hong Kong.’42 This barren rock housed an estimated 7,500 native inhabitants scattered over some twenty fishing hamlets and villages. Crime awaited and disease seeped through the lack of regulation. Horrified by the conditions, Martin suggested in 1844 for Britain to abandon the island. He maintained that European investors in Hong Kong were going through ‘a sort of hallucination,’ throwing cash into a hapless situation. 43 Nevertheless, hopeful migrants and aspiring businessmen saw the newly established colony as a cradle for better opportunities. 44 41 Frank Welsh, A History of Hong Kong (London: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994), 109. 42 Cited from Stephen Chiu and Tai-Lok Lui, Hong Kong: Becoming A Chinese Global City (London: Routledge, 2009), 16. 43 John M. Carroll, Edge of Empires: Chinese Elites and British Colonials in Hong Kong (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007), 38. 44 In 1846, there were five Macanese working in the government, fourteen in foreign newspaper companies, twenty-seven in commercial firms and one in the banking sector. For this, see The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for 1846 (Hong Kong: The China Mail, 1846), 994–997.

54 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Macanese and Chinese migrants from Macau gradually flocked to Hong Kong, arriving in different batches after hearing positive remarks from friends, family and neighbors who had pioneered the first adventures to the new colony. Within a few years, Hong Kong had transformed into a buzzing city. The rapid transformation impressed foreign travellers. In late 1845, Scottish botanist Robert Fortune remarked that ‘a very large proportion of the Macao shopkeepers [had] removed their establishments to Hong Kong,’ adding that new houses and streets popped up ‘as if by magic.’45 The swift development of Hong Kong was no magic. It required the blood, sweat and tears of Chinese contractors and developers. 46 It also required the loyal service of Macanese families to foreign companies and the willingness of Macanese staff to move along with their British employers to Hong Kong. For more than three decades, João António Gonçalves Barretto worked for Scottish trading firm Jardine, Matheson & Co. as a bookkeeper and agent. 47 Born in 1824, Barretto was from the fifth generation of a family of successful traders, businessmen and philanthropists with Goan origins. His grandfather, John Barretto, was a well-known Catholic merchant and philanthropist in Bombay. John Barretto must have amassed a great fortune as his obituary read, ‘His reputation for wealth was so great that the local people believed he could transmute base metals into gold.’48 The Barrettos had been linked to Jardine since the previous century through João’s father, a Bombay-born, Calcutta-educated Macau migrant who arrived in the enclave during the late 1700s. In Macau, Barretto started an insurance company and worked as a go-between for Jardine.49 A letter of instruction from 1829 reveals his strategic role as an intermediary between British businessmen and the Macau administration. James Matheson was seen advising William Jardine to take in Bartolomeu Barretto as a ‘channel of mediation’ to facilitate their opium trade in China. Barretto was the 45 Robert Fortune, Three Years’ Wanderings in the Northern Provinces of China, 2nd ed. (London: John Murray, 1847), 3. 46 Carroll, Edge of Empires, 25. 47 The term ‘bookkeeper’ was used in existing accounts of the Barrettos under Jardine, Matheson & Co. It is also the standard term used in existing studies. The Jardines interchanged between ‘bookkeeper’ and ‘agent’ in referring to Bartolomeu Antonio Barretto. See, for instance, ‘Hong Kong, 26 November 1881,’ Hongkong Telegraph, 26 November 1881, 2; Alain Le Pichon, China Trade and Empire: Jardine, Matheson & Co. and the Origins of British Rule in Hong Kong, 1827–1843 (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006), 405, 431. 48 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. I, 1st ed., 405–406. 49 Forjaz identified Barretto as a ‘bookkeeper,’ but records show that he was a go-between. Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. I, 1st ed., 399.

Crossing Imperial Borders

55

perfect fit because he occasionally had tea with the Governor of Macau and knew details that passed between Matheson and Jardine’s landlord.50 João Barretto’s brother, Bartolomeu Antonio also worked for Jardine in Canton.51 In 1839, James Matheson wrote from Toon Koo, an island northwest of Hong Kong, to William Jardine and Alexander Matheson in London with information that the company had arranged to send ‘young Barretto up by an early opportunity to tutor our American agent.’ He added, regrettably, that they should have employed Bartolomeu as the company’s agent in the first instance.52 Following in the footsteps of his father and brother, João Barretto began his career with Jardine in 1841 as an assistant.53 Although he did not serve in his father’s capacity, João took on various roles as a mercantile assistant, clerk, bookkeeper and agent.54 He was the only Barretto to have continued working for Jardine after the company moved its headquarters to Hong Kong in 1844. Barretto sometimes travelled for work. In 1846, he received instructions from Alexander Matheson to deal with the winding up of E. de Otadui, the Jardine’s agent and principal correspondent in Manila. In a letter outlining the situation in Manila, Donald Matheson mentioned Barretto as a trustworthy employee ‘who [had] been for a length of time in our office.’55 By the 1860s, João Barretto continued to loyally work for Jardine while pursuing other interests. He contributed to the founding of Hong Kong’s largest Portuguese gentlemen’s club, Club Lusitano and became a government-recognized leader of the Macanese community. Together with many other Macanese mercantile assistants, João remains invisible in the broader narrative of British Hong Kong history. Nonetheless, they 50 Letter from James Matheson in Canton to William Jardine in Macau, 15 September 1829, Le Pichon, China Trade and Empire, 84–85. Barretto later became a member of the Leal Senado. For this, see The Chinese Repository Vol. X, from January to December, 1841 (Canton: The Proprietors 1841), 57. 51 Le Pichon, China Trade and Empire, 431. 52 Letter dated 24 November 1839. Le Pichon, China Trade and Empire, 405. 53 This is based on an 1872 article from The China Mail, which mentioned Barretto as the firm’s clerk and bookkeeper for thirty-one years. The newspaper on this date, however, is not available but cited in Carl Smith, ‘Barretto, J.A.,’ 197879, Hong Kong Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 54 The Directory of 1848 listed Barretto as ‘Mercantile Assistant.’ The local newspaper identified him as a clerk and bookkeeper. For these, see The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for the Year 1848 (Hong Kong: D. Noronha, 1848). Hong Kong, 26 November 1881,’ Hongkong Telegraph, 26 November 1881, 2. 55 ‘Donald Matheson to John Abel Smith,’ 21 June 1846, JM C9/1, cited in Carol Matheson Connell, ‘The Applicability of Resource-Based Theory to the Interpretation of Strategic Management in Jardine Matheson: Uncertainty, Relationships and Capabilities,’ PhD diss., University of Glasgow, 2001, II.

56 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

played a crucial role in the transfer of foreign companies from Macau and Canton to Hong Kong, shifting their skills and knowledge to help build the colony from scratch. The crossing of Macanese migrants to Hong Kong marked the ceaseless realization of old and new forms of partnerships. Manuel Pereira’s grandson from his first marriage, Edward, advanced the family’s close relationship to the British community in order to expand his career and social standing in the British colony. Born ‘Eduardo’ to António Pereira and Aurélia Susana Viana Mendes, Eduardo used the English equivalent of his name for more than half of his life. Prior to his arrival in Hong Kong, he already had various engagements with Macau’s Britons. During the 1830s, Edward Pereira was listed as one of twenty-six ‘European and American houses’ that served as agents for Captain Charles Elliot in dealing with Indian opium traders.56 Records from 1839 documented British purchase of thirty-three chests of opium from Pereira; notably, Edward Pereira was the only Macanese to partake in Elliot’s opium trade that year.57 In Hong Kong, he became associated with Dent & Co., a British partner of his father’s company.58 Pereira started as a clerical assistant for the company, potentially to familiarize with the house for a brief period.59 This was followed by a partnership with Dent & Co.’s Hong Kong branch.60 Little is known of Pereira’s private life in the colony, but he was one amongst few to have moved along the social worlds of middle-class Britons. Stuart Braga has referred to him as the ‘most completely Anglicised of all the Macanese’ and J.P. Braga maintained that he was the only Macanese to have been accepted as an equal to the British.61 In 1847, Edward Pereira was elected as a resident member of the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society (RAS) alongside Hon. Major Caine and foreign businessmen Wilkinson Dent, Donald Matheson and Framjee Jamjetsee. He subsequently became a Council member of the RAS and was the only Macanese to join the Hong Kong branch of the RAS before its collapse in 1859.62 Pereira also volunteered for the Hongkong 56 Other agents included Jardine, Matheson & Co., Dent & Co., Gibb, Livingston, and Co., and a group of Parsee merchants. 57 Robert Montgomery Martin, ed., The Colonial Magazine and Commercial-Maritime, January–April 1840, Vol. 1 (London: Fisher, Son and Co.,1840), 117. 58 Michael Greenberg, British Trade and the Opening of China, 1800–1842 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969), 132. 59 An Anglo-Chinese Calendar for the Year 1845 (Hong Kong: The Chinese Repository, 1845), 25. 60 An Anglo-Chinese Calendar for the Year 1847 (Hong Kong: The Chinese Repository, 1847), 119. 61 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 146; J.P. Braga, The Portuguese in Hongkong and China, 153. 62 Transactions of the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 1847 (Hongkong: The China Mail, 1848), 66, 69.

Crossing Imperial Borders

57

Volunteer Corps, which admitted only ‘Americans’ and ‘Portuguese’ men during the 1850s.63 Despite gravitating towards a British identity, Edward Pereira remained a devout Catholic. He helped rebuild the Chapel of the Conception after a fire destroyed it in the late fifties with a handsome subscription.64 In 1858, Pereira left Dent & Co. with the company’s announcement in the Hongkong Government Gazette that ‘The interest and responsibility of Mr. Edward Pereira in our Firm ceased on the 30th June, 1858.’65 He settled in Britain where he would revive his Portuguese background to enter low British nobility. Pereira acquired from Brazil his ancestors’ coat of arms and was granted the title fidalgo de cota de armas, receiving the coat of arms of both the Pereira and Viana ancestries.66 Thereafter, he reverted to his birth name, Eduardo, and joined various royal events as a ‘Portuguese steward.’67 In July 1862, he married the Hon. Margaret Ann Stonor, the daughter of Thomas Stonor, 3rd Baron Camoys of Stonor Park, Oxfordshire and Lady Frances Stonor, at the Royal Bavarian Chapel, a Roman Catholic church on Warwick Street, Westminster.68 Pereira died of lung cancer in 1872; his children were raised prominent British men, with no trace of Pereira’s Macanese background or mention of his time in Hong Kong in their public narratives. In less than four decades, Edward Pereira shifted between Macanese, British, and Portuguese identities as he navigated the Portuguese and British imperial spheres in search of social ascent. While Macau was an initial contact zone for Pereira’s partnership with Britons, Hong Kong worked as a stepping-stone to enter the social worlds of middleclass Britons, eventually opening his new pathways in Britain where both his British networks and ambiguous Portuguese roots became assets to enter the lower nobility. As old working relations from Macau led to new opportunities in Hong Kong, the lack of progress in the Portuguese enclave transpired to fresh initiatives in the British colony. Young Macanese trained in printing and 63 Ian F.W. Beckett, ed., Citizen Soldiers and the British Empire, 1837–1902 (London: Routledge, 2012), 15. 64 Xia Qilong, ‘The Foundation of the Catholic Mission in Hong Kong, 1841–1894,’ PhD diss., University of Hong Kong, 1998, 99. 65 Dent & Co., ‘Notice, 26 August 1861,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 31 August 1861, 270. 66 Seixas, ‘Heráldica Portuguesa em Macau’, 428–429. 67 ‘Advertisements,’ The Morning Post, 23 April 1860, 1. 68 ‘Marriages,’ The Morning Post, 1 August 1862, 7; ‘Deeds Relating to the Settlement Made on the Marriage of Edward Pereira with the Hon. Miss Margaret Anne Stonor [d. of Lord Camoys],’ D 93/62, Centre for Buckinghamshire Studies, Aylesbury.

58 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

typesetting at Macau’s St. Joseph’s College widely assisted in the setup and operation of Hong Kong’s foreign-owned newspaper businesses.69 By 1850, Macanese compositors filled Hong Kong’s printing offices. Seven out of the China Mail’s ten employees were Macanese; at the offices of the Friend of China, three out of four staff members were Macanese.70 Owing to Macau’s lack of press freedom, the business of Portuguese-language newspapers also bourgeoned in British Hong Kong. Up until 1821, the Portuguese empire imposed strict press censorship across its territories. The Macau government continued to keep a close eye on the enclave’s press even after the relaxation of restrictions, resulting in the quick rise and collapse of privately owned newspapers.71 The lack of a liberal atmosphere in Macau, hence, sent aspiring Portuguese-language newspaper owners running from Portuguese territory to the British colony. One of these was Manuel Maria Dias Pegado, who braved leaving his home at forty-one years old, fed up with the Macau government’s attempts to bring down his newspaper.72 Pegado came from a prestigious family, his mother the owner of a business and his father a merchant and elected member of the Santa Casa de Misericórdia.73 Prior to his move, Pegado was linked to another Macanese elite family through his marriage to Laura Joana Steyn, the cousin of a battalion captain. An 1842 record shows he was also a Senado member, but with no voting rights. Pegado’s interests lay in newspapers. He edited Macau’s official gazette from 1839 to 1843 and found his own newspaper O Procurador dos Macaístas in 1844.74 The newspaper briefly ran as O Solitario na China in 1845 after O Procurador’s guarantor made a sudden withdrawal. The Leal 69 Wong Hoi-to, ‘Interport Printing Enterprise: Macanese Printing Networks in Chinese Treaty Ports,’ in Treaty Ports in Modern China: Law, Land and Power, ed. Robert Bickers and Isabella Jackson (New York: Routledge, 2016), 142. 70 The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for 1850 (Hong Kong: Noronha’s Office, 1851), 18. 71 On the development of Macau’s press, see Manuel Texeira, A imprensa periodica Portuguesa no Extremo-Oriente (The Portuguese Newspaper Business in the Far East) (Macau: Notícas de Macau, 1965); J.M. Braga, ‘The Beginnings of Printing at Macao,’ Stvdia 12 (1963), 48–52. For a report on the government’s pressure on a privately owned newspaper, Macaista Imparcial, see Canton Register 11, no. 32, cited in Roger Houghton, ‘China 1838–1839—Part 8,’ A People’s History 1793–1844 from the Newspapers. 72 The South China Morning Post published an article in 1934 about Hong Kong’s past, which pointed out that the Portuguese newspapers in the colony were largely political and were used to criticize the Macau authorities. For this, see Colonial, ‘Old Hong Kong: Foreign Papers of the Colony,’ South China Morning Post, 29 November 1934, 17. 73 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. IV, 2nd ed., 54–55. 74 The government publications were Gazeta de Macao (1839), which was renamed O Portuguez in China (1839–1843). Pegado’s newspaper was Procurador dos Macaístas (1844–1845). See The Chinese Repository Vol. XII, From January to December 1843 (Canton: The Proprietors, 1843), 110.

Crossing Imperial Borders

59

Senado threatened to shut down Pegado’s business if he failed to find a new guarantor within fifteen days.75 The government’s attempt to drive Pegado’s newspaper out of business came as a surprise. He claimed to have printed mostly government notices and had refrained from writing anything against the Macau government. Unable to understand why the government was breathing down his neck, Pegado decided to fold his business and transfer to Hong Kong. In 1846, O Solitario began printing as A Voz do Macaísta, which translates as ‘the voice of the Macanese.’76 Under the refuge of the British colonial administration, Pegado plucked up the courage to criticize the Macau government in a letter printed on the Boletim do Governo da Provincia de Macao, Timor e Solor. He explained his decision to leave his pátria was due to the Macau government’s denial of its people’s freedom of press. This prompted him to take the risk of moving to a foreign land where he faced uncertainties but gained greater freedom. Pegado pledged to revive the spirit of the Macaístas and encouraged the Macanese to speak out against the Macau government by exposing their ‘vices’ over the pages of his newspaper. He further promised to let the Portuguese Queen know about the Macanese people’s sufferings under the repressive rule of the Macau government, writing, ‘É já tempo de fazer soar ao longe os vossos justos clamores! Eu vos ofereço as minhas columnas, aproveitai-vos delas!’ (It is time to make your righteous cries for justice! I offer you my newspaper columns, take advantage of them!).77 Unfortunately, no copies of the newspaper survived and A Voz ceased publication in the same year.78 Nevertheless, the more liberal air of Hong Kong seemed to have inflamed the enthusiasm of Macanese editors. Over the next decade, a number of short-lived Portuguese-language newspapers and magazines emerged in Hong Kong. In 1852, a newspaper from Canton, Verdade e Liberdade, was transferred to the British colony. Its editor later established Impulso ás Letras, a literary magazine that featured articles on the arts, sciences, literature, history, geography and philosophy. A quick scan of the magazine shows titles ranging from ‘Sociedade das Mulheres’ (The 75 ‘Segunda-feira 6 de Outubro 1845’ (Monday 6 October 1845), O Solitario na China, 6 October 1845, 4. 76 Frank H.H. King and Prescott Clarke, A Research Guide to Chinacoast Newspapers, 1822–1911 (Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965), 35. 77 M.M.D. Pegado, ‘Publicações Literarias’ (Literary Publications), Boletim do Governo da Provincia de Macao, Timor e Solor 1, no. 38, 24 September 1846. 78 See, for instance, King and Clarke, A Research Guide, 74; B.H.M. Koo, ‘In Search of a Better World: A Social History of the Macaenses in China,’ PhD diss., University of Western Sydney, 2000.

60 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Society of Women) to ‘Refutaçäo do Pantheismo’ (Refutation of Pantheism) to ‘Medicine Practica’ (Medical Practice).79 Between 1859 and 1869, Hong Kong saw three more Portuguese-language newspapers, two of which were short-lived.80 By 1871, Hong Kong had evolved into a multicultural world with a blossoming polyglot urban culture. Its population grew to 124,198, made up of 869 ‘British,’ 1,367 ‘Portuguese,’ 170 ‘Germans,’ 133 ‘Americans,’ 60 ‘French,’ 2,823 ‘Indians and other mixed blood residents,’ and 115,444 ‘Chinese.’81 First-generation Macanese migrants helped infuse energy into Hong Kong’s multilingual print culture, which had turned into a colorful landscape that included seven English-language newspapers, some carrying Chinese articles.82 The colony was also not short on Chinese-language newspapers. In 1853, a British missionary founded the first Chinese-language journal, Xiaer guanzhen遐邇貫珍 (Chinese Serial), under the Morrison Education Society. The office of the China Mail offered Chinese residents a space for commentaries through the Zhongwai xinwen qiribao 中外新聞七日報.83 Diasporic societies are shaped by complex relationships between the past and the present, the familiar and the foreign. In this vein, voluntary migrants often find themselves expecting change and progress in areas that prompted their exit from previous settlements. The Macanese stories of new beginnings in British Hong Kong reveal individual pursuits stitched to either initiatives that began in Macau or frustrations that unraveled out of the Portuguese enclave’s uninspiring lack of progress and opportunity. This perspective highlights interaction between British Hong Kong and Portuguese Macau that transcends the common understanding that Macau simply diminished into a backwater after the establishment of colonial Hong Kong.84 More significantly, acknowledging the continuation of Macau-born networks and ambitions in Hong Kong allows us to appreciate colonial cities as dynamic platforms for the extension of pre-colonial developments

79 See J.M. Da Silva e Souza, Impulso ás Letras, no. 1, 10 October 1865; Impulso ás Letras, no. 10, 10 July 1866. 80 These were O Echo, O Movimiento and O Amigo do Progresso. O Echo survived for the longest duration, published from 1858 to 1869. For this, see King and Clarke, A Research Guide, 74–75. 81 ‘Government Notification No. 68,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 6 May 1871, 196. 82 King and Clarke, A Research Guide, 49–70. 83 Chen Ming陳鳴, Xianggang baoye shigao, 1841–1911香港報業史稿, 1841–1911 (A History of the Press in Hong Kong, 1841–1911) (Hong Kong: Huaguang baoye youxian gongsi, 2005), 65, 94–95. 84 For the idea that links Macau’s decline to Hong Kong’s colonization, see Dan Waters, ‘Hong Kong Hongs with Long Histories and British Connections,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 30 (1990), 220; Jonathan Porter, ‘The Transformation of Macau,’ Pacific Affairs 66, no. 1 (1993), 3.

Crossing Imperial Borders

61

and partnerships.85 While colonial administrations undeniably helped facilitate modern social, economic, political and scientific transformations, the existence and influence of pre-colonial experiences and encounters must not be overlooked.86 The transformation of Hong Kong, certainly not what Robert Fortune imagined as ‘magic,’ benefitted from networks and dreams that took root in Macau. In turn, the first Macanese diaspora to British Hong Kong would unfold as a life-changing experience for many Macanese individuals and families. It is important to ask how the lives of colonized subjects changed with the colonial turn, yet equally important to understand how past experiences sculpted their responses to colonialism and for diasporic communities, their pursuits on foreign soil. The pre-colonial past, hence, offers us a better understanding why colonial institutions were built the way they were and brings us to see colonized subjects as much more than ‘the colonized population.’87

Channeling Macau’s woes into Hong Kong developments The increasing migration of the Macanese community led to the advent of Catholic churches and schools in British Hong Kong. For centuries, Catholic missions used Portuguese Macau as a convenient and secure base to support the propagation of Catholicism across China and Japan. With 85 Works that highlight the importance of pre-colonial structure include David M. Anderson and Richard Rathborne (eds.), Africa’s Urban Past (Oxford: James Currey, 2000), 5–14; Gareth Austin, ‘Developmental Divergences and Continuities between Colonial and Pre-colonial Regimes: The Case of Asante, Ghana 1701–1957,’ paper presented at the 2nd GEHN Conference, Irvine, California, 15–17 January 2004; Jutta Bolt and Leigh Gardner, ‘De-compressing History? Pre-colonial Institutions and Local Government Finance in British Colonial Africa,’ paper presented at the Economic History Association meetings, Nashville, 11 September 2015. 86 For works that have questioned the ethnocentric implications of studies that have ignored pre-colonial developments and indigenous communities in colonial and postcolonial studies, see Cooper and Stoler, Tensions of Empire, 33; Sugata Bose, ‘Post-colonial Histories of South Asia: Some Reflections,’ Journal of Contemporary History 38, no. 1 (2003), 137–139; David Washbrook, ‘South India 1770–1840: The Colonial Transition,’ Modern Asian Studies 38, no. 3 (2004), 481–487; Reid, ‘Past and Presentism,’ 135. 87 For works on the Asian context, see David Ludden, Peasant History in South India (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985). See also, Pamela G. Price, Kingship and Political Practice in Colonial India (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996); Christopher A. Bayly, Empire and Information: Political Intelligence and Social Communication in North India, 1780–1880 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996); Michael W. Charney, ‘Before and After the Wheel: Pre-colonial and Colonial States and Transportation in Mainland Southeast Asia and West Africa,’ HumaNetten 37 (2016), 9–38.

Crossing Imperial Borders

61

and partnerships.85 While colonial administrations undeniably helped facilitate modern social, economic, political and scientific transformations, the existence and influence of pre-colonial experiences and encounters must not be overlooked.86 The transformation of Hong Kong, certainly not what Robert Fortune imagined as ‘magic,’ benefitted from networks and dreams that took root in Macau. In turn, the first Macanese diaspora to British Hong Kong would unfold as a life-changing experience for many Macanese individuals and families. It is important to ask how the lives of colonized subjects changed with the colonial turn, yet equally important to understand how past experiences sculpted their responses to colonialism and for diasporic communities, their pursuits on foreign soil. The pre-colonial past, hence, offers us a better understanding why colonial institutions were built the way they were and brings us to see colonized subjects as much more than ‘the colonized population.’87

Channeling Macau’s woes into Hong Kong developments The increasing migration of the Macanese community led to the advent of Catholic churches and schools in British Hong Kong. For centuries, Catholic missions used Portuguese Macau as a convenient and secure base to support the propagation of Catholicism across China and Japan. With 85 Works that highlight the importance of pre-colonial structure include David M. Anderson and Richard Rathborne (eds.), Africa’s Urban Past (Oxford: James Currey, 2000), 5–14; Gareth Austin, ‘Developmental Divergences and Continuities between Colonial and Pre-colonial Regimes: The Case of Asante, Ghana 1701–1957,’ paper presented at the 2nd GEHN Conference, Irvine, California, 15–17 January 2004; Jutta Bolt and Leigh Gardner, ‘De-compressing History? Pre-colonial Institutions and Local Government Finance in British Colonial Africa,’ paper presented at the Economic History Association meetings, Nashville, 11 September 2015. 86 For works that have questioned the ethnocentric implications of studies that have ignored pre-colonial developments and indigenous communities in colonial and postcolonial studies, see Cooper and Stoler, Tensions of Empire, 33; Sugata Bose, ‘Post-colonial Histories of South Asia: Some Reflections,’ Journal of Contemporary History 38, no. 1 (2003), 137–139; David Washbrook, ‘South India 1770–1840: The Colonial Transition,’ Modern Asian Studies 38, no. 3 (2004), 481–487; Reid, ‘Past and Presentism,’ 135. 87 For works on the Asian context, see David Ludden, Peasant History in South India (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985). See also, Pamela G. Price, Kingship and Political Practice in Colonial India (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996); Christopher A. Bayly, Empire and Information: Political Intelligence and Social Communication in North India, 1780–1880 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996); Michael W. Charney, ‘Before and After the Wheel: Pre-colonial and Colonial States and Transportation in Mainland Southeast Asia and West Africa,’ HumaNetten 37 (2016), 9–38.

62 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

an elite-controlled, profit-driven government, Macanese residents had to rely on the educational provisions of Jesuit missionaries. The Jesuits established the Colégio de São Paulo (St. Paul’s College) in 1752, which taught the Japanese and Chinese languages, as well as Latin to aspiring missionaries. Subsequently, more schools were set up including St. Joseph’s Seminary in 1758. All this came to an abrupt end after the struggle for power between the Jesuit-dominated Catholic church and the Portuguese monarchy led to Marquis de Pombal’s order to expel Jesuits from Portuguese territory in 1759.88 This left a vacuum in the provision of education for the Macanese. Owing to corruption and Portugal’s policies, Macau lost its appeal as a footing for Catholic initiatives. The abuse and corruption of Catholic authorities discouraged missions from carrying out thorough activities in Macau.89 In 1838, the Portuguese authorities in Lisbon further banned all non-Portuguese missionaries from entering Macau. In need of a new base for missionary activities, Catholic missionaries turned to Hong Kong. Swiss priest Father Theodore Joset, the Procurator in Macau of the Sacred Congregation for the Propagation of Faith (the Vatican Bureau for the Missions) advised the transfer of the Catholic church’s Procura (procurator) to Hong Kong in 1841. At the risk of being driven out of Macau, Father Joset openly voiced his vision for an independent ecclesiastical district far from the clutches of Portugal. He was eventually expelled but the Catholic missions found a sanctuary in Hong Kong. The colony’s first Catholic church, a temporary mat-shed on Wellington Street, emerged in 1842 under the initiation of Father Joset and Spanish Franciscan Father Michael Navarro.90 A year later, the Chapel of the Conception inaugurated at the junction of Wellington and Stanley streets, built with white walls of granite and brick, as well as a light blue roof and wooden floors. The construction cost was $9,000, of which $3,000 was from the mission and the rest acquired from the colony’s residents. The church’s inauguration caused quite the commotion, attracting around one hundred men ‘of every colour, the jet-black Negro, 88 Maurice Whitehead, ‘From Expulsion to Restoration: The Jesuits in Crisis, 1759–1814,’ Studies: An Irish Quarterly Review 103, no. 412 (2014/15), 450–451. 89 The Padroado (patronage), an agreement signed between the Holy See and the Portuguese Crown in the mid-fifteenth century, promulgated Portuguese authority over missionary activities in China. The agreement led to abuse from the Portuguese authority and antagonism between the Holy See and Portugal. For the corruption of the Catholic missions in Macau, see, Tang Kaijian, Setting Off from Macau: Essays on Jesuit History during the Ming and Qing Dynasties (Boston: Brill, 2015), 178–181. 90 Sergio Ticozzi, ‘The Catholic Church and Nineteenth Century Village Life in Hong Kong,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 48 (2008), 111–113.

Crossing Imperial Borders

63

the deep-brown Bengalee, the light-brown Madrasse, the tawny Chinese […] robed in every variety of oriental costume,’ together with soldiers of the 55th regiment, sepoys and artillerymen from India, and Portuguese, Italians and seven or eight women dressed in European costume. A local newspaper had to emphasize that British participants were only there to observe the consecration: At the end of the Chapel, nearest to the altar, and on both sides between the pillars, were two small knots of British, who, with their fair complexions, high cheek bones, blue eyes, and light hair, formed a strong contrast, as they stood erect, taking no part in the service, to the Asiatic group at the other end of the Church, busy with their devotions.91

The Catholic missions provided for the essential needs of first-generation Macanese migrants.92 Using government-granted land, they set up a Catholic cemetery in 1842 and built the St. Michael’s cemetery in 1848.93 Between 1845 and 1865, the various missions operated several schools that either taught in the Portuguese language or offered introductory Portuguese language as a subject.94 These schools, nevertheless, could not fully provide Portuguese education. They had to cater to children from other communities, as well as Macanese families that preferred their children to pick up the English language at an early age. After all, most Macanese migrants left their homes to ensure their children had better prospects. St. Saviour’s College was a popular option. It offered a ‘practical curriculum,’ which ensured the boys who completed their course ‘had not the slightest difficulty in finding employment.’95 Teachers taught mainly in English and provided 91 ‘Consecration of the Church,’ The Friend of China and Hongkong Gazette 66, no. II, 22 June 1843, 56. 92 They also catered for the Chinese communities. The first Catholic school for Chinese boys was opened in 1843. 93 Ko Tim-Keung, ‘A Review of Development of Cemeteries in Hong Kong: 1841–1950,’ Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 41 (2001), 242, 244. 94 These were the Free School for Portuguese (1845–1852), the Free School in English and Portuguese (1848–1859), two Portuguese Schools for boys (1860–1865) in Wellington Street and Staunton Street (1860–1861), the Portuguese Chinese and English school for girls (1860–1869) in Caine Road, the Canossian Sisters’ School for Catholic girls (1860–today) and the St. Saviour’s College (1860–today). The Canossian Sisters’ School was renamed the Sacred Heart Cannosian College in 1960 and the St. Saviour’s College was renamed St. Joseph’s College in 1875. For a list of Catholic schools in Hong Kong, see ‘The Catholic Institutions in Hong Kong (1842–1896),’ Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archives. 95 St. Joseph’s College Hong Kong: Diamond Jubilee 1875–1935 (Hong Kong: [s.n.], 1935) 19.

64 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Portuguese-language classes to Macanese boys at the beginners’ level.96 In 1877, the Governor visited St. Saviour’s (by then renamed St. Joseph’s College) and made a confident statement regarding the English-language education of Hong Kong’s Macanese boys, saying, I asked His Lordship when I came in this morning what was the number of Portuguese in the school, and what number left the school, able to speak English. He answered, first, that there cannot be far short of 200 Portuguese trained in the school, and that all these, practically speaking, leave the school able to speak English more or less.97

The Governor emphasized his vision of educating children ‘running about in the streets, picking up bits of coal or other articles that may fall from the bags that are carried from the stores to the ships.’98 Although the colonial administration was too preoccupied in the first decade or so to invest in education, it started to support the colony’s educational developments in the 1860s. In 1866, the Government Central School, initially meant for Chinese boys, transitioned to a school for boys of all nationalities with an emphasis on the English language.99 The government provided incentives through scholarships and prize awards for outstanding students.100 By the late 1870s, about fifty Macanese boys attended the Central School, despite it being non-Catholic and English-based. The British colonial administration’s increasing concerns over educational opportunities made a striking contrast to the Macau government’s general lack of interest towards public welfare. It would only be in 1871 that Macanese elite Pedro Nolasco da Silva set up the Associação Promotora da Instrução dos Macaenses (APIM) to promote education for the sake of regenerating Macanese society through stimulating interest and knowledge in the field of commerce.101

96 J.M. Braga, ‘The Teaching of Portuguese in Hong Kong: Some Notes on Its History,’ typescript draft, MS 4300 5.3/1, Papers of J.M. Braga, National Library of Australia. 97 ‘Teaching of English in the Government Schools,’ 15 February 1878, Hong Kong Blue Book. 98 ‘Supplement to the Annual Report on Government Education: Address of His Excellency Governor Pope Hennessy, at the Central School,’ 25 January 1878, Hong Kong Blue Book for the Year 1877 (Hong Kong: Noronha & Sons, 1878). 99 Anthony Sweeting, Education in Hong Kong Pre-1841 to 1941: Facts and Opinion (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1990), 206. 100 ‘Prize Distribution at Government Schools, and a Grant-in-Aid School, 5th and 7th February, 1880,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 February 1880, 152. 101 João Guedes and José Silveira Machado, Duas Instituições Macaenses (1871–1998) (Two Macanese Institutions, 1871–1998) (Macau: Edição da APIM, 1998), 7.

Crossing Imperial Borders

65

As Catholic initiatives burgeoned, news spread to Macau regarding the availability of welfare and educational provisions in neighboring Hong Kong. The Macanese population mushroomed within a short period of time, growing from 500 in 1851 to 811 in 1853 to 1,250 by 1863. Catholicism played a central role in the formation of the colony’s early Macanese community: Macanese migrants huddled close to the Catholic church and Sunday mass became a space for communal sociability. The presence of a Catholic cemetery was equally important. Most Macanese subjects found ease knowing there was a respectable burial ground for when they reached the end of their lives. The first instruction in the will of a Macanese woman named Virginia Marianna Noronha reflected the wishes of most Macanese migrants. Noronha hoped ‘to be decently and privately buried in the Roman Catholic Cemetery of this Colony, without any funeral pomp’ and with the least expenses.102 As devout Catholics, the Macanese became the core of Hong Kong’s Catholic community.103 They attended congregations, lived near the Chapel of the Conception and maintained a close relationship with the Catholic clergy.104 Apart from filling in the seats of the Sunday mass, the Macanese were always ready to support the Catholic church, as seen from the outpouring of donations to rebuild the Chapel of Conception after a fire in 1859.105 Edward Pereira donated $500 and asked his ex-partners at Dent & Co. to donate another $500 on behalf of the company. João Joaquim Braga, the owner of a pharmacy who moved to Hong Kong a decade and a half earlier, funded the church’s Passion Altar. It took only five months for the church to re-emerge through Macanese subscriptions and financial support from various other communities from within and outside of the colony. The Catholics in the Philippines donated $6,000 and the Pope and the Propaganda of Faith contributed 8,000 francs ($1,400). Local subscription from Irish soldiers and one American firm amounted to $2,200.106 British Hong Kong served as a meeting point for people and organizations who shared similar grievances in Macau to come together and work with each other for mutual benefit. As against an existing observation that the Macanese led ‘drab lives’ after work and had little interaction with other 102 ‘Virginia Marianna Noronha,’ HKRS 144-4-199, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 103 Ticozzi, ‘The Catholic Church,’ 114. 104 For a detailed analysis of the Macanese and Catholic activities in Hong Kong, see Braga, The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China, 163–180. 105 Ernst Eitel, Europe in China: The History of Hongkong from the Beginning to the Year 1882 (Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1983), 405. 106 Xia, ‘The Foundation of the Catholic,’ 99–100.

66 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

communities, their participation in various aspects of Hong Kong society reveal the Macanese were active beyond their own worlds.107 Catholicism, in particular, emerged as a platform not only for the Macanese to assemble, but also for the Macanese to associate with those from other communities. These developments in British Hong Kong cannot be separated from Macau’s social and political woes. It was, after all, the lack of space for the liberal development of missionary activities and education in the Portuguese enclave that turned Hong Kong into an appealing destination for those willing to venture. The attachment to one’s homeland, nevertheless, wavered over time as migrants respond to foreign cultures, as well as the importance of foreign language and education in securing career opportunities. Through time, the British colony’s atmosphere, culture and policies would gradually convince Macanese families to permanently reside in Hong Kong, thus paving the path for the birth of an alternative Macanese community that found greater attachment to Hong Kong and an increasing sense of alienation from Macau. *** As much as they partook in turning Hong Kong into a buzzing city, preexisting aff iliations, partnerships and ambitions from Macau found a new breath of life in British Hong Kong. The problems of decay and lack of access to the centers of power in the Portuguese enclave made Hong Kong a promising land of potentialities in business, employment and education. This resulted in the rapid growth of Hong Kong’s Catholic missions and Macanese population, both of which assisted the colony’s transformation from a barren island dominated by a scattered Chinese population to a multicultural world f illed with cross-border networks. Aspects of Portuguese culture sprouted in early British Hong Kong through Portuguese education, Catholic initiatives and the spread of Portuguese-language newspapers. The move to a British sphere nonetheless signified the moment the Macanese stepped into a new domain of not only new opportunities, but also unfamiliar policies and a different imperial culture. If the practice of prioritizing Dutch officials who had European backgrounds and education led to the hardening of European identities during the British interregnum of Batavia, it also influenced the evolution of the Macanese community’s Portugueseness with the introduction of British education, policies and

107 Braga, The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China, 141.

Crossing Imperial Borders

67

culture.108 Becoming ‘British’ was a practical asset to social mobility and Macanese parents consciously responded to this by encouraging their children to embrace British education and culture, but not without ensuring the younger generation grew up as devout Catholics and spoke, to some extent, Portuguese patuá. From Manuel Pereira to João Barretto, the various experiences of ‘Portuguese’ migrants demonstrate the plasticity of race and importance of social networks in the upward mobility of migrant individuals, particularly in light of movement from one imperial sphere to another. Manuel Pereira’s strategic transition from a metropole Portuguese into a Macanese affirms the heterogeneity of Portuguese identities within the Portuguese sphere.109 His grandson, Edward Pereira shifted between being a Macanese in Macau to a partner of Britons in Hong Kong until he reverted to being ‘Eduardo’ in Britain. As in the case of Cecil Pereira, Edward’s other children grew up British. His eldest son, General George Edward Pereira, was remembered by international press as ‘the late Brigadier-General’ who fought in the Boer War and a famous traveler who ‘had a wonderful knowledge of Chinese etiquette, which enabled him to penetrate districts little known to Europeans.’110 Adopting a strategy that differed from Edward Pereira’s integration into the British world, João Barretto (as will be discussed in detail in the third chapter) publicly displayed his Portuguese roots in creating his path to social prominence. As against common perceptions that colonized subjects ultimately mimicked their rulers, the move to Hong Kong diversified the Macanese, offering each individual a different opportunity and experience in class and identity reconstruction. Some middle-class Macanese individuals would eventually use their Portuguese roots to enter bourgeois British worlds while others prompted their children to adopt British identities in hopes of gaining better privileges on foreign land.

108 The brief British rule of Batavia saw the introduction of theater, racing clubs and balls as new social spaces and the adoption of British notions of ‘civilized’ behavior amongst Batavian women in these spaces. In civil service, Dutch officials who had acquired European education were given priority. Dutch elites came to admire British culture, adopting dances in the European style and baptizing their children with English names. For these, see Taylor, The Social World of Batavia, 100, 102–105, 111–112. 109 For the plurality of Portuguese identities, see Ângela Barreto Xavier, A invenção de Goa: Poder imperial e conversões culturais nos Séculos XVI e XVII (The Invention of Goa: Imperial Power and Cultural Conversations in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries) (Lisbon: Imprensa de Ciências Sociais, 2008); Stefan Halikowski-Smith, Creolization and Diaspora in the Portuguese Indies: The Social World of Ayutthaya, 1640–1720 (Leiden: Brill, 2011). 110 ‘A Famous Traveler,’ Brisbane Courier, 26 January 1924, 6.

68 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Lisbon PT/TT/CCVC/004/0012/00023, ‘Autos de justificação de nobreza de Inácio Baptista Cortela Sousa de Albuquerque.’ Centre for Buckinghamshire Studies, Aylesbury D 93/62, ‘Deeds Relating to the Settlement Made on the Marriage of Edward Pereira with the Hon. Miss Margaret Anne Stonor [d. of Lord Camoys].’ Massachusetts Historical Society, Boston Ms. N-2404, ‘Ellen W. Randolph Coolidge to John M. Forbes.’ 22 January 1840. National Library of Australia, Canberra MS 4300 5.3/1, Braga, J.M. ‘The Teaching of Portuguese in Hong Kong: Some Notes on Its History.’ Typescript draft. Public Records Office of Hong Kong, Hong Kong Carl Smith Collection, 197879, ‘Barretto, J.A.’ HKRS 144-4-199, ‘Virginia Marianna Noronha.’

Published primary sources An Anglo-Chinese Calendar for the Year 1845. Hong Kong: The Chinese Repository, 1845. An Anglo-Chinese Calendar for the Year 1847. Hong Kong: The Chinese Repository, 1847. British and Foreign State Papers, 1840–41, Vol. 29. London: James Ridgway and Sons, 1857. Eitel, Ernst. Europe in China: The History of Hongkong from the Beginning to the Year 1882. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1983. Fortune, Robert. Three Years’ Wanderings in the Northern Provinces of China, 2nd. ed. London: John Murray, 1847. Hickey, William. Memoirs of William Hickey (1749–1775). New York: Alfred Knopf, 1923. Hillard, Harriett Low. Lights and Shadows of A Macao Life: The Journal of Harriett Low, Travelling Spinster. Woodinville, WA: History Bank, 2002. —. My Mother’s Journal: A Young Lady’s Diary of Five Years Spent in Manila, Macao and the Cape of Good Hope from 1829–1834. Boston: G.H. Ellis, 1900. Hong Kong Blue Book for the Year 1877. Hong Kong Noronha & Sons, 1878. Houckgeest, Van Braam. Voyage de l’ambassade de la Compagnie des Indes orientales hollandaises, vers l’empereur de la Chine, dans les années 1794 & 1795, Vol. 2 (Voyage

Crossing Imperial Borders

69

of the Ambassador of the VOC, To the Emperor of China in the Years 1794 and 1795, vol. 2). Philadelphia: A. Philadelphie, 1797. Impulso ás Letras, no. 1, 10 October 1865. Impulso ás Letras, no. 10, 10 July 1866. Martin, Robert Montgomery, ed. The Colonial Magazine and Commercial-Maritime, January–April 1840, Vol. 1. London: Fisher, Son & Co., 1840. St. Joseph’s College Hong Kong: Diamond Jubilee 1875–1935. Hong Kong, [s.n.], 1935. Staunton, George. An Authentic Account of An Embassy from the King of Great Britain to the Emperor of China. London: G. Nicol, 1797. The Chinese Repository Vol. X, from January to December, 1841. Canton: The Proprietors 1841. The Chinese Repository Vol. XII, From January to December 1843. Canton: The Proprietors, 1843. The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for 1846. Hong Kong: The China Mail, 1846. The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for 1850. Hong Kong: Noronha’s Office, 1851. The Hongkong Almanack and Directory for the Year 1848. Hong Kong: D. Noronha, 1848. Transactions of the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 1847. Hongkong: The China Mail, 1848.

Newspapers Boletim do Governo da Provincia de Macao, Timor e Solor, Macau Brisbane Courier, Brisbane The Friend of China and Hongkong Gazette, Hong Kong O Solitario na China, Macau South China Morning Post, Hong Kong The China Mail, Hong Kong The Hongkong Government Gazette, Hong Kong The Hongkong Telegraph, Hong Kong The Morning Post, London

Secondary sources ‘The Catholic Institutions in Hong Kong (1842–1896).’ Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archives. Amaro, Ana Maria. ‘1842 Elections for the Macao Senate and the Homens Bons (“Good Men”) of the Territory.’ Review of Culture 19 (1994): 17–32. —. ‘The “Illusive” Macanese Women.’ Review of Culture 24 (1995): 7–14.

70 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Anderson, David M., and Richard Rathborne, eds. Africa’s Urban Past. Oxford: James Currey, 2000. Austin, Gareth. ‘Developmental Divergences and Continuities between Colonial and Pre-colonial Regimes: The Case of Asante, Ghana 1701–1957.’ Paper presented at the 2nd GEHN Conference, Irvine, California, 15–17 January 2004. Bayly, Christopher A. Empire and Information: Political Intelligence and Social Communication in North India, 1780–1880. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Beckett, Ian F.W., ed. Citizen Soldiers and the British Empire, 1837–1902. London: Routledge, 2012. Bolt, Jutta, and Leigh Gardner. ‘De-compressing History? Pre-colonial Institutions and Local Government Finance in British Colonial Africa.’ Paper presented at the Economic History Association meetings, Nashville, 11 September 2015. Bose, Sugata. ‘Post-colonial Histories of South Asia: Some Reflections.’ Journal of Contemporary History 38, no. 1 (2003): 133–146. Braga, J.M. ‘The Beginnings of Printing at Macao.’ Stvdia 12 (1963): 29–137. Braga, José Pedro. The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China: Their Beginning, Settlement and Progress to 1949, Vol. 1. Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau and University of Macau, 2013. Braga, Stuart. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. Carreira, Ernestina. ‘Navegação comercial entre o Brasil e a Ásia Portuguesa durante a estadia da corte no Brasil 1808–1821’ (Commercial Navigation between Brazil and Portuguese Asia during the Stay of the Portuguese Court in Brazil). ACTAS do Congresso Internacional Espaço Atlântico de Antigo Regime: poderes e sociedade. Lisbon, 2–5 November 2005. Carroll, John M. Edge of Empires: Chinese Elites and British Colonials in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007. Charney, Michael W. ‘Before and After the Wheel: Pre-colonial and Colonial States and Transportation in Mainland Southeast Asia and West Africa.’ HumaNetten 37 (2016): 9–38. Chaves, C.B. O Portugal de D. João V visto por três forasteiros (The Portugal of D. João V as Seen by Three Outsiders). Lisbon: Biblioteca Nacional, 1983. Chen, Ming陳鳴, Xianggang baoye shigao, 1841–1911香港報業史稿, 1841–1911 (A History of the Press in Hong Kong, 1841–1911). Hong Kong: Huaguang baoye youxian gongsi, 2005. Chiu, Stephen, and Tai-Lok Lui. Hong Kong: Becoming A Chinese Global City. London: Routledge, 2009. Coates, Austin. Macao and the British, 1637–1842: Prelude to Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1966.

Crossing Imperial Borders

71

Connell, Carol Matheson. ‘The Applicability of Resource-based Theory to the Interpretation of Strategic Management in Jardine Matheson: Uncertainty, Relationships and Capabilities.’ PhD diss., University of Glasgow, 2001. Cooper, Frederick, and Ann Laura Stoler, eds. Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in A Bourgeois World. London: University of California Press, 1997. Costa, Leonor Freire, Nuno Palma, and Jaime Reis. ‘The Great Escape? The Contribution of the Empire to Portugal’s Economic Growth, 1500–1800.’ European Review of Economic History 19, no. 1 (2014): 1–22. Costa, Leonor Freire. Império e grupos mercantis: entre o Oriente e o Atlântico (seculo XVII) (Empire and Mercantile Groups: Between the East and the Atlantic (Seventeenth Century). Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 2002. De Jesus Maria, José. Ásia sínica e japónica, Vol. II (Chinese and Japanese Asia, vol. 2). Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau and Centro de Estudos Marítimos de Macau, 1988. —. ‘Do estado de Macau no tempo presente (1745)’ (The State of Macau at the Present Time (1875)). In De Longe à China (Far From China), edited by Carlos Pinto Santos Orlando Neves, 181–194. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1988. De Melo e Castro, Martinho. ‘Instrução para o governador e capitão-geral da India’ (Instructions for the Governor and Captain-General of India). In De Longe à China (Far From China), edited by Carlos Pinto Santos Orlando Neves, 243–259. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1988. De Seabra, Leonor Diaz, and Maria de Deus Beites Manso. ‘Escravatura, concubinagem e casamento em Macau: séculos XVI–XVIII (Slavery, Concubinage, and Marriage in Macau: Sixteenth to Eighteenth Centuries). Afro-Ásia 49 (2014). De Seixas, Miguel Metelo. ‘Heráldica Portuguesa em Macau: as pedras de armas de Domingos Pio Marques e de sua descendência’ (Portuguese Heraldry in Macau: The Coat of Arms of Domingos Pio Marques and His Descendants). Lúsiada 2, no. 8 (2011): 415–432. De Sousa, Ivo Carneiro. ‘Orfandade feminina, mercado matrimonial e elites sociais em Macau (século XVIII)’ (Women, Marriage and Family in Macau: Female Orphans, Marriage Market and Social Elites in Macau (Eighteenth Century)). Review of Culture 3, no. 22 (2007): 6–39. De Souza, Teotonio R. Goa to Me. New Delhi: Concept Publishing Company, 1994. Dos Guimarães Sá, Isabel. ‘Ganhos da terra e ganhos do mar: caridade e comércio na Miscericórdia de Macau (Secúlos XVII–XVIII)’ (Land Gains and Sea Gains: Charity and Trade in Macau’s Miscericórdia (Seventeenth to Eighteenth Centuries). Ler História 44 (2003): 45–57. —. Quando o rico se faz pobre: Miscericórdias, caridade e poder no império Português (When the Rich Become Poor: Miscericórdias, Charity and Power in the

72 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Portuguese Empire). Lisbon: Comissão Nacional para as Comemorações dos Descobrimentos Portugueses, 1997. Dos Reis Miranda, Tiago C.P., and Bruno Feitler. ‘Apresentação—hierarquias e mobilidade social no Antigo Regime: os grupos intermédios no mundo Português’ (Presentation—Hierarchies and Social Mobility in the Old Regime: Intermediate Groups in the Portuguese World). Revista de História (São Paulo) 175 (2016). Farooqui, Amar. Smuggling as Subversion: Colonialism, Indian Merchants, and the Politics of Opium, 1790–1843. New York: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, Inc., 2005. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vol. III. 1st ed. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996. —. Familias Macaenses, Vol. VI. 2nd ed. Macau: Albergue SCM e Bambu–Sociedade e Artes Limitada, Macau, 2017. Greenberg, Michael. British Trade and the Opening of China, 1800–1842. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1969. Guedes, João, and José Silveira Machado. Duas Instituições Macaenses (1871–1998) (Two Macanese Institutions, 1871–1998). Macau: Edição da APIM, 1998. Halikowski-Smith, Stefan. Creolization and Diaspora in the Portuguese Indies: The Social World of Ayutthaya, 1640–1720. Leiden: Brill 2011. Hespanha, António M. Panorama da História Institucional e Jurídica de Macau (Overview of Macau’s Institutional and Legal History). Macau: Fundação Macau, 1995. Hoe, Susanna and Derek Roebuck. The Taking of Hong Kong: Charles and Clara Elliott in China Waters. Surrey: Curzon Press, 1999. Houghton, Roger. ‘China 1838–1839—Part 8.’ A People’s History 1793–1844 from the Newspapers. Kaori Abe. ‘Middlemen, Colonial Officials, and Corruption: The Rise and Fall of Government Compradors in Hong Kong, 1840s–1850s.’ Modern Asian Studies 52, no. 5 (2018): 1774–1805. King, Frank H.H., and Prescott Clarke, A Research Guide to Chinacoast Newspapers, 1822–1911. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965. Ko Tim-Keung. ‘A Review of Development of Cemeteries in Hong Kong: 1841–1950.’ Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 41 (2001): 241–280. Koo, B.H.M. ‘In Search of a Better World: A Social History of the Macaenses in China.’ PhD diss., University of Western Sydney, 2000. Lamas, Rosemarie W.N. Everything in Style: Harriett Low’s Macau. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2006. Le Pichon, Alain. China Trade and Empire: Jardine, Matheson & Co. and the Origins of British Rule in Hong Kong, 1827–1843. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2006.

Crossing Imperial Borders

73

Lin Guangzhi 林廣志. ‘Wanqing Aomen huashang de jueqi ji qi shehui diwei de bianhua’ 晚清澳門華商的崛起及其社會地位的變化 (The Rise of Chinese Merchants in the Late Qing Era and their Transforming Social Roles). In Aomen shi xinbian—diyi ce澳門史新編—第一冊 (A New History of Macau, vol. 1), edited by Wu Zhiliang, Jin Guoping and Tang Kaijian吳志良、金國平、湯開 建, 223–262. Aomen: Aomen jijin hui, 2008. Ludden, David. Peasant History in South India. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1985. Monteiro, Nuno Gonçalo. ‘Elites locais e mobilidade social em Portugal nos finais do Antigo Regime’ (Local Elites and Social Mobility in Portugal at the End of the Old Regime). Análise Social 32, no. 4 (1997): 335–368. Paulino, Maria Clara. ‘The “Alien” European: British Accounts of Portugal and the Portuguese, 1780–1850.’ In The British Abroad since the Eighteenth Century, Vol. 1: Travellers and Tourists, edited by Martin Farr and Xavier Guégan, 101–116. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2013. Porter, Jonathan. ‘The Transformation of Macau.’ Pacific Affairs 66, no. 1 (1993): 7–20. Price, Pamela G. Kingship and Political Practice in Colonial India. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1996. Puga, Rogério Miguel. ‘A carnavalização hiperbólica da Macau setecentista num soneto de Bocage (c.1789) em prol da figurado ouvidor Lázaro da Silva Ferreira’ (The Hyperbolic Carnivalisation of Eighteenth-Century Macau in a Sonnet by Bocage (c. 1789) in Favour of the Ombudsman Lázaro da Silva Ferreira). In Estudos sobre Macau e outros orientes (Studies about Macau and Other Orientations), edited by Monica Simas, 224–259. São Paulo: Paulistana Editora, 2017. —. The British Presence in Macau, 1635–1793. Translated by Monica Andrade. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2013. Reid, Richard. ‘Past and Presentism: The “Precolonial” and the Foreshortening of African History.’ The Journal of African History 52, no. 2 (2011): 135–155. Ride, Lindsay, and May Ride. An East India Company Cemetery: Protestant Burials in Macau, edited by Bernard Mellor. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1996. —. The Voices of Macao Stones. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1999. Russell-Wood, A.J.R. Fidalgos and Philanthropists: the Santa Casa da Miscericórdia of Bahia, 1550–1755. London: Palgrave, 1968. Sena, Tereza. ‘Macau’s Autonomy in Portuguese Historiography (19th and Early 20th Centuries).’ Bulletin of Portuguese-Japanese Studies 17 (2008): 79–112. Souza, George Bryan. ‘Merchants and Commerce in Asia and the Portuguese Empire over the Long Eighteenth Century.’ Review of Culture 34 (2010): 64–76. Subrahmanyam, Sanjay. The Portuguese Empire in Asia, 1500–1700: A Political and Economic History. West Sussex: Wiley-Blackwell, 2012.

74 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Sweeting, Anthony. Education in Hong Kong Pre-1841 to 1941: Facts and Opinion. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1990. Tang Kaijian. Setting Off from Macau: Essays on Jesuit History during the Ming and Qing Dynasties. Boston: Brill, 2015. Taylor, Jean Gelman. The Social World of Batavia: Europeans and Eurasians in Colonial Indonesia. Madison, WI: University of Wisconsin Press, 1983. Texeira, Manuel. A imprensa periodica Portuguesa no Extremo-Oriente (The Portuguese Newspaper Business in the Far East). Macau: Notícias de Macau, 1965. Ticozzi, Sergio. ‘The Catholic Church and Nineteenth Century Village Life in Hong Kong.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 48 (2008): 111–149. Van Dyke, Paul A. The Canton Trade: Life and Enterprise on the Chia Coast, 1700–1845. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007. Washbrook, David. ‘South India 1770–1840: The Colonial Transition.’ Modern Asian Studies 38, no. 3 (2004): 481–487. Waters, Dan. ‘Hong Kong Hongs with Long Histories and British Connections.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 30 (1990): 219–256. Welsh, Frank. A History of Hong Kong. London: HarperCollins Publishers, 1994. Whitehead, Maurice. ‘From Expulsion to Restoration: The Jesuits in Crisis, 1759–1814.’ Studies: An Irish Quarterly Review 103, no. 412 (2014/15): 447–461. Wong Hoi-to. ‘Interport Printing Enterprise: Macanese Printing Networks in Chinese Treaty Ports.’ In Treaty Ports in Modern China: Law, Land and Power, edited by Robert Bickers and Isabella Jackson, 139–157. New York: Routledge, 2016. Xavier, Ângela Barreto. A invenção de Goa: Poder imperial e conversões culturais nos Séculos XVI e XVII (The Invention of Goa: Imperial Power and Cultural Conversations in the Sixteenth and Seventeenth Centuries). Lisbon: Imprensa de Ciências Sociais, 2008. Xia Qilong. ‘The Foundation of the Catholic Mission in Hong Kong, 1841–1894.’ PhD diss., University of Hong Kong, 1998. Zhang Tingmao 張廷茂. Ming Qing shiqi Aomen haishang maoyi shi 明清時期 澳門海上貿易史 (History of Macau’s Maritime Trade During the Ming–Qing Period). Aomen: Aoya kan chuban she gongsi, 2004.

2

Sandwiched in the Workplace Abstract According to Ronald Robinson’s ‘theory of collaboration,’ non-European mediating elites helped regulate and maintain imperialism. This chapter argues that not all collaborators were crucial to the rise and decline of colonies. A peek into the circumstances of Macanese employment in Hong Kong shows a more practical aspect of how early colonial establishments were built through the services of migrant workers, who toiled in lower- and middle-ranking administrative positions in the public and private offices. Reassessing existing claims that Macanese workers were victims of racial prejudice, the careers of three Macanese men reveal the normative reasons behind their stagnant careers, as well as an alternative understanding of the terms of collaboration between colonial governments and their subjects from the migrant perspective. Keywords: colonial collaborators, colonial order, imperialism, migrant workers, Macanese workers, British colonial rule

On a Tuesday in January 1847, a mercantile-oriented local newspaper printed a letter from a resident of the colony using the name ‘An Englishman.’ Part of the letter read: I observe the name of [Leonardo] ‘D Almada e Castro […] in the last No. of the China Mail as Clerk of Councils in this Colony. I hear also that he has a Brother and a Cousin in the Colonial Secretary’s office […] I confess that I do not like to see the families of Englishmen living here upon private subscription whilst this Portuguese family fattens upon English gold.

This resident found it inappropriate that the British government had employed a chief clerk of the Executive and Legislative Councils who was Macanese, an alien, a ‘Roman Catholic’ and, thus, must have been an ‘agent for the Propagandists.’ Continuing the rant, ‘An Englishman’ claimed he had

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_ch02

76 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

an informant who could reveal D’Almada’s incompetence in English. He questioned whether the government’s choice was due to a ‘short sighted selfish POLICY [that was] in defiance of law, customs and propriety.’ Supporting this view, the newspaper’s editor pointed out that ‘a considerate Ruler, would look upon [D’Almada’s] being an Alien as an insurmountable obstacle to his holding the appointment of Clerk of the Legislative Council.’ Both appeared convinced that he was ‘incapable’ and ‘unfit’ for the position because he was an ‘alien,’ a Macanese, or simply because he was not British.1 In line with D’Almada’s experience, contemporary narratives regarding the Macanese in British Hong Kong have shaped the community’s history as one marked by racial prejudice, particularly when looking into the colony’s workspaces.2 Hong Kong-born Macanese historian Montalto de Jesus wrote that Macanese migration to Hong Kong caused the ‘hapless descendants of once affluent Macaense families’ to ‘[vegetate] as underpaid, over-worked, browbeaten clerks, mean advantage being taken of their distress and endurance until they died, usually in harness, martyr-like ordeal.’3 Other accounts highlighted the existence of a ‘glass ceiling’ that barred Macanese civil servants from higher-ranking positions due to their Portuguese status. 4 While there can be no denying that prejudice existed and has prevailed over the centuries, assuming that the Hong Kong government, or any other colonial administration, were shrewd enough to have established a calculated social structure based on skin color would be an exaggeration of events and a neglect of practical circumstances.5 The colony certainly did not have a government-orchestrated caste that situated Hong Kong’s Europeans on the top, the Macanese, Indians and British Eurasians in the middle and the Chinese at the bottom.6 Hong Kong happened to be less 1 An Englishman, ‘To the Editor of The Friend of China,’ The Friend of China and Hong Kong Gazette VI, no. 2, 6 January 1847, 6. 2 See, for instance, Braga, The Portuguese in Hongkong and China, 129; Ye Nong葉農, ‘Ershi shiji qian Xianggang Puren de zuqun rentong 20世紀前期香港葡人的族群認同’ (The Identity of the Portuguese Ethnic Group in Hong Kong in the Early Period of the Twentieth Century), Ethno-National Studies民族研究 no. 3 (2012), 95. 3 C.A. Montalto De Jesus, Historic Macao: International Traits in China Old and New (Macau: Salesian Printing Press and Tipografia Mercantil, 1926), 366. 4 Da Silva and Pacheco, The Portuguese Community, 17; Roy Eric Xavier, ‘J.P. Braga and the Portuguese in Hong Kong,’ UMA News Bulletin 36 no. 1 (2013), 3. 5 For studies that discuss race as a crucial imperial policy, see Kenneth Ballatchet, Race, Sex and Class under the Raj: Imperial Policies and their Critics, 1793–1905 (New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1980); Cooper and Stoler, Tensions of Empire. 6 For works that mention a premeditated social caste, see Steve Tsang, A Modern History of Hong Kong (London: I.B. Taurus, 2007), 65; Henry Lethbridge, Hong Kong, Stability and Change: A Collection of Essays (Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1978), 163–167, 189–213. Subsequent

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

77

fancy than some British officials had imagined, with its hilly terrain, lack of social order and unbearable humid climate. Its first Governor Henry Pottinger once imagined turning the colony into the ‘great emporium of the East’; his successor, Sir John Francis Davis predicted, shortly after the Opium War, that Hong Kong’s commerce would flourish ‘under the protection of equal laws, and […] [with] all the best fruits of science and civilization transplanted direct from the European headquarters.’7 Judging from their statements, both Governors had oversimplified the process of setting up a safe and more importantly, profitable colony. It turns out the question was less a problem of transplanting European civilization in Hong Kong than a problem of maintaining control over the predominantly Chinese population while attracting sufficient investors, enterprises and labor to bring the colony to life. Having control over the Chinese quickly proved to be a headache, as the Chinese generally did not understand English and the Britons could not speak Cantonese. Language barriers deepened European suspicions of the Chinese, engulfing Hong Kong in an atmosphere of panic and distrust. Addressing European anxieties, the Chief Magistrate wrote to the local newspaper in 1844, saying, ‘until there is a registration of every Chinese Inhabitant of the Island […] we will never live in a state of security.’8 In managing European racial anxieties, Britons came to rely on able intermediaries to bridge the Chinese population with the colonial government.9 Able Chinese compradors shot to prominence owing to their access to the Chinese population, in particular the dark underground. As they helped the Britons keep an eye on the Chinese population, these leaders emerged as recognized intermediaries and rewarded ‘collaborators’ of the colonial administration.10 Valuable collaborators like Loo Aqui and Tam Achoy received plots of land and the administration’s recognition as leaders of the works showed similar observations, including Linda Pomerantz-Zhang, Wu Tingfang (1842–1922): Reform and Modernization in Modern Chinese History (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1992), 14–15; Ding and Lu, Feiwo zuyi, 54. 7 Carroll, Edge of Empires, 37. 8 Chief Magistrate Office, ‘The Friend of China and Hong Kong Gazette, Victoria, Tuesday, March 12th 1844,’ Friend of China and Hong Kong Gazette III, no. 114, 12 March 1844, 280. 9 Elizabeth Sinn, Power and Charity: A Chinese Merchant Elite in Colonial Hong Kong (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2003), 121–158; Abe Kaori, Chinese Middlemen in Hong Kong’s Colonial Economy, 1830–1890 (New York: Routledge, 2018), 35–47. 10 I adopt Robinson’s idea of ‘collaborator,’ particularly the reference to non-whites or native leaders who worked for colonial governments and helped maintain colonial authority. For this, see, Ronald Robinson, ‘Non-European Foundations of European Imperialism: Sketch for a Theory of Collaboration,’ in Studies in the Theory of Imperialism, ed. Roger Owen and Bob Sutcliffe (London: Longman, 1972), 117–142.

78 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Chinese community.11 The Hong Kong government also employed European missionaries with extensive knowledge of Chinese people and culture to prominent positions. Prussian missionary Rev. Karl Gützlaff, who served as interpreter for British diplomatic missions in China during the First Opium War, became Chinese Assistant to the Chief Magistrate.12 Owing to his experience in China with the London Missionary Society, another German, Ernst Eitel, became Director of Chinese Studies in 1875, Inspector of Schools of the Hong Kong government in 1879 and private secretary to Governor Sir John Pope Hennessy from 1880 to 1881. The Macanese, able to read, write and speak English, filled in the positions of clerks and bookkeepers at a time when the majority of the Chinese population had yet to understand the English language. Although most Macanese spoke Cantonese, they could not read Chinese characters. Furthermore, they were not socially networked with the Chinese population and thus could not serve in the capacity of elites like Loo Aqui or Karl Gützlaff. It was perhaps due to the general disinterest of the Chinese population that the Macanese eschewed involvement with them outside of the workplace. This turned the Macanese into the colony’s administrative backbone yet left a small number of ambitious workers miserably suspended in subordinate positions. As opposed to what some in the Macanese community claim today, the Macanese were never intermediaries of the Hong Kong administration.13 They were, nonetheless, collaborators in the sense that they quietly kept the colony’s public and private offices running in exchange for low wages that the typical Briton would have deemed unacceptable. The Macanese readily worked in exchange for a stable life in Hong Kong where they grew sizeable families and attained basic needs that Macau no longer had the capacity to offer. Those who were content with the terms of collaboration or were tied to family obligations stayed and worked until their retirement. Sometimes, this meant working in the same position for years or even decades. Those who aspired for more braved another move to neighboring 11 For works on the relationship between serving colonial administrations as ‘collaborators’ and social prominence, see, for instance, Evanson N. Wamagatta, ‘African Collaborators and their Quest for Power in Colonial Kenya: Senior Chief Waruhiu wa Kung’u’s Rise from Obscurity to Prominence, 1890–1922,’ The International Journal of African Historical Studies 41, no. 2 (2008), 295–314. 12 John M. Carroll, A Concise History of Hong Kong (New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007), 50. 13 See, for instance, Roy Xavier’s description of the Macanese as ‘social buffers between the British and the Chinese’ and Francisco da Roza’s claim regarding Portuguese clerks managing compradors. Christopher DeWolf, ‘How Hong Kong’s Once-Thriving Portuguese Community Nearly Vanished,’ 12 October 2016, Zolima City Mag.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

79

port-cities in search of better opportunities. One of these men was Vicente Emílio Braga, whose failed business venture led him to work as a clerk in the Royal Mint and the Colonial Secretary’s office. Braga was unhappy with his job in Hong Kong and eventually accepted an offer from Osaka. There, he became a chief accountant at a government Mint, received status equal to that of his British counterparts and was acknowledged as a pioneer of western-style bookkeeping. Vicente Braga never returned to Hong Kong, leaving behind seven children.14 There were also ambitious Macanese individuals who were not content with the lack of career advancement but stayed on their jobs. To understand what Hong Kong meant for these men, I reopened the cases of two Macanese public servants and one general clerk for the Hongkong Bank. These men have been generally cited as victims of racial prejudice in early colonial Hong Kong. This case study is directed not only at putting together a more complete picture of their encounters in the workplace, but also at bringing a new perspective to practical problems migrant workers faced in the colonial setting. Leonardo d’Almada e Castro, a victim of racial slurs printed in The China Mail, had immense faith and confidence that he would one day become the Colonial Secretary of Hong Kong, a position that was, in theory, second to the Governor. While this was no position for a non-Briton, D’Almada also ignored the fact that his British competitor was better qualified and equipped with a degree from Oxford. Another Macanese civil servant, Alexandre Grand-pré, lost his opportunity because he did not provide a stellar performance at work. Finally, Constancio Joaquim Gonsalves did not mind working as a low-ranking clerk in exchange for bank loans and the occasional bottle of port wine. Stepping out of the confines of race in rethinking their experiences should bring us to understand colonial cities as spaces where both the colonizing government and its subjects eased into life in a new settlement as they discovered their own paths and learned to live and work with each other.

The roots of the Macanese as ‘middle’ people The pattern of employing non-Europeans to middle- and lower-ranking positions is observable in the composition of the colonial government’s offices. Taking clerical positions as a basis, the Hong Kong Blue Book of 1871 showed at least four public offices that conformed to this pattern. It was 14 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 149–162.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

79

port-cities in search of better opportunities. One of these men was Vicente Emílio Braga, whose failed business venture led him to work as a clerk in the Royal Mint and the Colonial Secretary’s office. Braga was unhappy with his job in Hong Kong and eventually accepted an offer from Osaka. There, he became a chief accountant at a government Mint, received status equal to that of his British counterparts and was acknowledged as a pioneer of western-style bookkeeping. Vicente Braga never returned to Hong Kong, leaving behind seven children.14 There were also ambitious Macanese individuals who were not content with the lack of career advancement but stayed on their jobs. To understand what Hong Kong meant for these men, I reopened the cases of two Macanese public servants and one general clerk for the Hongkong Bank. These men have been generally cited as victims of racial prejudice in early colonial Hong Kong. This case study is directed not only at putting together a more complete picture of their encounters in the workplace, but also at bringing a new perspective to practical problems migrant workers faced in the colonial setting. Leonardo d’Almada e Castro, a victim of racial slurs printed in The China Mail, had immense faith and confidence that he would one day become the Colonial Secretary of Hong Kong, a position that was, in theory, second to the Governor. While this was no position for a non-Briton, D’Almada also ignored the fact that his British competitor was better qualified and equipped with a degree from Oxford. Another Macanese civil servant, Alexandre Grand-pré, lost his opportunity because he did not provide a stellar performance at work. Finally, Constancio Joaquim Gonsalves did not mind working as a low-ranking clerk in exchange for bank loans and the occasional bottle of port wine. Stepping out of the confines of race in rethinking their experiences should bring us to understand colonial cities as spaces where both the colonizing government and its subjects eased into life in a new settlement as they discovered their own paths and learned to live and work with each other.

The roots of the Macanese as ‘middle’ people The pattern of employing non-Europeans to middle- and lower-ranking positions is observable in the composition of the colonial government’s offices. Taking clerical positions as a basis, the Hong Kong Blue Book of 1871 showed at least four public offices that conformed to this pattern. It was 14 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 149–162.

80 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

common for the widest gap to occur between the Chinese and Britons. At the Registrar General’s Office, Im Achak, first Chinese clerk, received an annual salary of £60. First clerk John Gerrard received £400 and second clerk C.F.A. Sangster earned £300. Notably, Im had been working in the department since 1853 whereas the other two clerks had spent less than ten years in office. The Fire Department adopted a similar pattern. With the same amount of experience, European firemen earned £105 but Chinese firemen received only £60 a year. Situated in the middle of the hierarchy, Macanese civil servants received slightly lower salaries when compared to Europeans but typically earned more money than Chinese workers.15 In the Survey Department, first clerk G.L. Tomlin earned an annual salary of £500. The second clerk, a Macanese named F. das Chagas, earned £300. Similar to the case of the Chinese, their years of service were not reflected in their salary. By this point, Das Chagas had been working at the Survey Department for thirteen years but Tomlin had only spent around four years in the same office. In 1871 at the Harbour Master’s Office, the first and second clerks, both European, received £400 and £300 for having spent one to two years in office. The third clerk, a Macanese, received £300 for working in the same office since 1861.16 Were the Macanese stuck in a dilemma lagging behind their British seniors but unable to advance to leadership positions and receive equal treatment? In rare cases, Macanese men like Edward Pereira managed to enter the social worlds of European colleagues through the use of family networks and social standing. For the majority of the Macanese population, life as subordinates in foreign enterprises was not considered an undesirable pathway. Many of the Macanese migrants had not received proper education and were generally ready to accept what companies had to offer. More importantly, the Macanese tried to make the most out of their move to Hong Kong. They believed that British Hong Kong, in comparison to Macau, provided a more stimulating, liberal and progressive atmosphere for their families. Nevertheless, contemporary misconceptions of the Macanese as a community stranded in between European whites and the native Chinese population are not unfounded. This impression has its roots in nineteenthcentury perceptions of the Macanese as an English-speaking ‘Asiatic’ group who readily worked for wages lower than the Europeans’. Newspaper debates 15 These observations were drawn by comparing the wages of civil servants and their years of service without consideration of the individuals’ backgrounds. 16 ‘Civil Establishment of Hongkong for the Year 1871,’ Hongkong Blue Book (Hong Kong: Noronha & Sons, 1872), 74, 100, 66, 78.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

81

helped to shape such perceptions of the Macanese. In 1865, the Daily Press published a piece of news regarding the conviction of a Macanese clerk named Hilario do Rozario with embezzlement. Rozario was an employee of Scottish merchant Douglas Lapraik.17 This unfolded into a series of debates concerning the reliability of Macanese workers. One writer, claiming to be a resident from Canton, argued from experience that the Macanese were excellent workers. He pointed out that Macanese workers usually had a strong sense of responsibility because they took care of sizeable families and were committed to a chain of people, thus prompting them to be honest and loyal to their employers.18 Other residents disagreed. A printer for the newspaper, for reasons unknown, added the instruction ‘No Portuguese need apply’ to an advertisement for a clerical position. The editor immediately apologized on behalf of the newspaper. He joined the discussion and tried to convince angry Britons that the Macanese were in fact a better fit for lower- and middle-ranking posts as an average monthly salary of $80 would have caused great discomfort to the typical Briton who then ‘require[d] in this climate, quarters, food and comforts.’ The editor wrote ‘our countrymen are physically disqualified for the posts which the Portuguese now occupy’ and added that if the eight hundred Macanese workers were to be replaced by the British, ‘It would degrade the British name and would be the means of creating a low, despised, half-caste breed, with all the boldness of the European, with all the subtlety of the Asiatic, and with all that lack of shame[.]’ The newspaper suggested that to prevent future cases of embezzlement concerning the Macanese, employers should ensure that they were employing ‘real’ Portuguese subjects instead of assuming people were ‘Portuguese’ by their Christian names or nicknames. The Daily Press asked its readers to reflect on a situation where an applicant turned out to be the son of a Madras butler by a Chinese woman and asked, ‘would not ordinary prudence have forbidden the idea of unlimited confidence?’19 This was quite the irony considering Hong Kong’s Portuguese was predominantly Luso-Asian. The editor’s words resonated with another reader who identified himself as ‘Englishman.’ He observed that foreign firms mostly preferred having Macanese employees because they could stand Hong Kong’s climate better and lived much more cheaply, and further because ‘they [were] better adapted for being horses at a mill and fourthly, because they [did] not 17 ‘Police Court,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 7 August 1865, 2. 18 Justitia, ‘To the Editor of the Daily Press,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 9 August 1865, 3. 19 ‘Hong Kong, August 10, 1865,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 10 August 1865, 2.

82 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

drink.’20 While ‘Englishman’ incorrectly assumed that Macanese people did not drink, his claims of their relatively simple and inexpensive lifestyle were not wrong. The Macanese community’s readiness to work for relatively lower wages met with the needs of the government and private companies to minimize set-up and operational costs. This resulted in the wide employment of Macanese workers across the colony in subordinate positions, which subsequently instigated feelings of insecurity from other communities. The editor of the Evening Mail acknowledged the practical side of extensive Macanese employment in Hong Kong’s job market as he responded to ‘Englishman’ saying, ‘The Portuguese are a very excellent class of assistants, and employers will always be ready to pay them the current rates whenever their services are wanted; but it is only at certain rates we can afford to employ them.’21 The idea of the Macanese as a community sandwiched between European heads and lower-ranking Chinese workers was hence embedded both in old public perceptions of the Macanese as an English-speaking ‘Asiatic’ community and the practical terms of cooperation between European employers and Macanese workers.

D’Almada’s plight Born in Goa in 1815 to a Lieutenant father from Lisbon and a Goan-born ‘Portuguese’ mother, Leonardo d’Almada e Castro (Fig. 4) moved to Macau at the age of ten.22 For most of his working life, D’Almada served the British government. In 1836, he worked in the office of the British Superintendency of Trade in Macau, later joining Captain Charles Elliot’s entourage in 1836. On 27 February 1842, he transferred with his younger brother, José Maria d’Almada e Castro, to Hong Kong. His career ascent was quick: in 1844, he became chief clerk of the Colonial Secretary’s office and by 1847 was promoted as clerk of the Executive and Legislative Councils.23 As head of clerks in the Colonial Secretary’s office, D’Almada led José Maria (second clerk; Fig. 4), a British third clerk named Henry Fletcher Hance and another Macanese, Alexander Grand-pré (fourth clerk). While his seemingly flawless 20 Fair Play, ‘To the Editor of the Daily Press,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 14 August 1865, 2. 21 ‘Portuguese Assistants,’ Evening Mail, 14 August 1865, cited in José Pedro Braga, The Rights of Aliens in Hong Kong: Being a Record of the Discussion Carried on Through the Medium of the Public Press as to the Employment of Aliens in the Colony (Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1895), 85. 22 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. I, 1st ed., 77. 23 G.B. Endacott, A Biographical Sketch-Book of Early Hong Kong (Singapore: Eastern Universities Press Limited, 1962), 117.

82 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

drink.’20 While ‘Englishman’ incorrectly assumed that Macanese people did not drink, his claims of their relatively simple and inexpensive lifestyle were not wrong. The Macanese community’s readiness to work for relatively lower wages met with the needs of the government and private companies to minimize set-up and operational costs. This resulted in the wide employment of Macanese workers across the colony in subordinate positions, which subsequently instigated feelings of insecurity from other communities. The editor of the Evening Mail acknowledged the practical side of extensive Macanese employment in Hong Kong’s job market as he responded to ‘Englishman’ saying, ‘The Portuguese are a very excellent class of assistants, and employers will always be ready to pay them the current rates whenever their services are wanted; but it is only at certain rates we can afford to employ them.’21 The idea of the Macanese as a community sandwiched between European heads and lower-ranking Chinese workers was hence embedded both in old public perceptions of the Macanese as an English-speaking ‘Asiatic’ community and the practical terms of cooperation between European employers and Macanese workers.

D’Almada’s plight Born in Goa in 1815 to a Lieutenant father from Lisbon and a Goan-born ‘Portuguese’ mother, Leonardo d’Almada e Castro (Fig. 4) moved to Macau at the age of ten.22 For most of his working life, D’Almada served the British government. In 1836, he worked in the office of the British Superintendency of Trade in Macau, later joining Captain Charles Elliot’s entourage in 1836. On 27 February 1842, he transferred with his younger brother, José Maria d’Almada e Castro, to Hong Kong. His career ascent was quick: in 1844, he became chief clerk of the Colonial Secretary’s office and by 1847 was promoted as clerk of the Executive and Legislative Councils.23 As head of clerks in the Colonial Secretary’s office, D’Almada led José Maria (second clerk; Fig. 4), a British third clerk named Henry Fletcher Hance and another Macanese, Alexander Grand-pré (fourth clerk). While his seemingly flawless 20 Fair Play, ‘To the Editor of the Daily Press,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 14 August 1865, 2. 21 ‘Portuguese Assistants,’ Evening Mail, 14 August 1865, cited in José Pedro Braga, The Rights of Aliens in Hong Kong: Being a Record of the Discussion Carried on Through the Medium of the Public Press as to the Employment of Aliens in the Colony (Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1895), 85. 22 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. I, 1st ed., 77. 23 G.B. Endacott, A Biographical Sketch-Book of Early Hong Kong (Singapore: Eastern Universities Press Limited, 1962), 117.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

83

Figure 4  Leonardo and José Maria d’Almada e Castro

Portraits of Leonardo (left) and José Maria d’Almada e Castro from the private collections of Ruy Barretto.

career advancement caught unwanted criticism in the local press, D’Almada’s confidence and ambition inflated. As a man in his mid-thirties, he seemed to be on the track to more important roles, yet his career fell on stagnant waters in the next few years, marked only by occasional, unofficial appointments as Acting Colonial Secretary. Twice in 1851, Colonial Secretary William Caine signed off from work without formally informing the Colonial Office, causing Governor Sir George Bonham to appoint D’Almada as Acting Colonial Secretary out of convenience. When the Chief Magistrate offered to step in, the Governor maintained that D’Almada was a better fit because C.B. Hillier was needed at the police office.24 Bonham later explained the appointments as an act to gratify D’Almada’s wishes without bringing inconvenience to public service.25 Troubled by the lack of growth in his career, D’Almada very much welcomed such appointments as the Governor’s recognition of his importance 24 Bonham claimed that Hillier had been too tied up and Caine pointed out that D’Almada had already been appointed when his letter arrived. ‘Sir George Bonham to The Duke of Newcastle,’ 20 January 1854, CO 129/45, 47, The National Archives, London; ‘William Caine to Sir George Bonham,’ 10 January 1854, CO 129/45, 100, The National Archives, London. 25 ‘Sir George Bonham to the Duke of Newcastle,’ 20 January 1854, CO 129/45, 47–49, The National Archives, London.

84 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

to the administration. In a note of gratitude, he thanked the Governor for ‘doing justice’ by offering him what he deserved, writing, ‘had any other officer in the Colony been appointed to discharge the duties of Colonial Secretary, such an arrangement would have cast indelible reflection on my private and official character.’26 In November 1852, Caine took another four-day leave but this time he personally appointed the Colonial Treasurer, W.T. Mercer, to act on his behalf. Unaware of the arrangement, D’Almada assumed Caine’s duties and signed some documents as Acting Colonial Secretary. Mercer soon found out and confronted D’Almada with what the Macanese recalled as ‘insulting language.’ This added to D’Almada’s pre-existing career frustration, pushing him to write a letter of protest to the Governor and later, to the Colonial Office. In D’Almada’s mind, Mercer, having joined the service seven years after him, was but ‘another officer of this government who consider[ed] himself to have a claim or right to the office of Colonial Secretary.’ The Macanese demanded an apology from the Briton for disrespecting a senior. The Governor tried to settle the problem and the incident was laid to rest. That was, until Caine asked Mercer to act for him again in November 1853. This appointment greatly offended D’A lmada, who already felt humiliated by the previous incident. Being placed under a colleague who had ‘so grossly insulted’ his status as ‘the oldest Civil Servant in China’ infuriated D’A lmada, prompting him to write a letter to the Colonial Office to expose the Hong Kong government’s ‘malpractices.’ In it, D’Almada informed the Duke of Newcastle that the Colonial Secretary often took casual leaves without asking for formal permission and accused the British officials of racial prejudice, claiming that they sided with each other in working against him.27 After unsuccessfully blocking D’Almada’s letter from reaching the Colonial Office, Bonham revealed to the Duke of Newcastle that he regretted inappropriately appointing D’Almada to the position of Acting Colonial Secretary because he was an ‘alien’ and was thus, ‘incapacitated from holding the office.’ The Colonial Secretary was required to have a seat in the Executive Council but non-Britons could not be sworn in. More importantly, Bonham remarked that D’Almada was simply ‘not of sufficient weight’ to hold such a prominent position in the administration, particularly when compared to Mercer, who held a degree from Oxford and had been eyed by the Governor as the 26 ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to Sir George Bonham,’ 16 October 1851, CO 129/44, 211–212, The National Archives, London. 27 ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to the Duke of Newcastle,’ 9 January 1854, CO 129/45, 65–66, 71, 201, 68–69, The National Archives, London.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

85

successor to the Colonial Secretary’s position once it became vacant.28 He concluded that D’Almada had been disillusioned by his ambitions and expressed remorse for boosting the Macanese clerk’s confidence by twice appointing him to act for the Colonial Secretary. The Duke of Newcastle’s reply arrived in early 1854, carrying unexpected news. The Colonial Office proposed the appointment of D’Almada as Colonial Secretary with an additional salary. This suggestion, however, was swept under the rug. A number of British officials agreed that although it was not appropriate for a ‘distasteful oligarchy’ to exist within the Hong Kong administration, appointing an ‘alien’ that was not of suff icient weight and who could not take the oath of allegiance before the Councils was an impractical move.29 D’Almada only received the Duke of Newcastle’s dispatch months later in November and replied that he had previously taken his oath of allegiance to the Queen before the Executive Council during his appointment as clerk of the two Councils.30 This did not help and D’Almada made a final struggle by applying for British naturalization.31 As the Naturalization Ordinance had yet to be put into practice and would remain inactive until 1880, D’Almada failed to become formally British and remained quietly in his position until his death in 1875 at the age of sixty. He was buried in St. Michael’s Roman Catholic Cemetery. D’Almada could have chosen to continue bargaining for a higher position or leave the service for other opportunities, but he stayed with the government because he could not afford to lose his job. Put simply, he had a life outside of the workplace and a family to take care of. D’Almada’s will reveals that he was a man with a high sense of responsibility towards taking care of his family and his in-laws. He asked for his trust funds to be transferred to his wife and upon and her death, her eldest daughter. His estates were assigned to his son-in-law João Henrique dos Remedios and his father João Joaquim, as well as his younger brother.32 Moreover, D’Almada’s wage with the Hong Kong government was not small. By 1853, he was the highest paid 28 ‘Sir George Bonham to the Duke of Newcastle,’ 20 January 1854, CO 129/45, 50, 47–49, The National Archives, London. 29 ‘To Herman Merivale in letter from Sir George Bonham to the Duke of Newcastle,’ 25 April 1854, CO 129/45, 54, The National Archives, London. 30 ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to Sir George Grey,’ 30 November 1854, CO 129/47, 325, The National Archives, London. 31 The Naturalization Ordinance (Ordinance No. 10 of 1845) supposedly allowed foreigners to become British subjects in Hong Kong upon successful application. 32 ‘Will No. 36 of 1875, Probate No. 930 of 1875: Leonardo d’Almada e Castro, deceased,’ 5 January 1875, HKRS 144-4/303, Hong Kong Public Records Office, Hong Kong; Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 1st ed., 33.

86 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

clerk in the government, earning an annual salary of £472, with an additional £100 as the clerk of Councils.33 In 1863, this was increased to £500, with an additional £200.34 With this salary, D’Almada invested in real estate and became an active philanthropist. In 1865, he generously sold a plot of land to the Italian Sisters at a low price so they could build a convent.35 Sadly, a disastrous typhoon in 1874 caused serious damage to his other properties.36 Shortly thereafter, D’Almada passed away, leaving his wife and younger daughter in destitution. The Colonial Office objected to the Legislative Council’s unanimous decision to financially support his wife and daughter with a monthly pension of £150 due to its hefty amount.37 The government eventually offered the family a sum of £400, which went to repairing damaged property, returning D’Almada’s outstanding debts and paying for his funeral expenses.38 Still in a poor state, his widow petitioned for a reimbursement of her late husband’s Superannuation Fund. The Governor supported it, ‘for the sake of Mrs. Almada and her daughter,’ and ‘for the reputation’ of the Hong Kong government.’39 While it remains true that Macanese subjects touched a certain ‘glass ceiling’ in public office due to structural rigidities, situating D’Almada’s experience solely in the framework of racial prejudice overshadows the fact that both migrant workers and European heads arrived in Hong Kong with their own set of pre-existing thoughts, beliefs and experiences. Existing narratives that blame the tension between D’Almada and the British officials on racial discrimination offer us one side of the story; piecing D’Almada’s ambitions and Mercer’s educational background into the incomplete picture offers us a better understanding of early colonial Hong Kong as a space where peoples from different cultures and walks of life crossed paths and pushed one another out of comfort zones and usual practices. We often forget that migrant workers took the risk of leaving familiar homelands in search of a better life. D’Almada not only built a career in Hong Kong, but also strove to construct a stable life for his family. His job and experience with the colonial government, more than an example of racial discrimination, were entangled 33 Hongkong Blue Book 1853, CO 133/10, 76, 80, The National Archives, London. 34 Hongkong Blue Book 1863, CO 133/20, 104, 120, The National Archives, London. 35 Endacott, A Biographical Sketch-Book, 117. 36 ‘Maria Anna d’Almada e Castro and Anna Filomena d’Almada e Castro to The Earl of Carnarvon,’ n.d., CO 129/173, 127, The National Archives, London. 37 ‘Votes and Proceedings of the Legislative Council of Hong Kong,’ 23 February 1875. 38 ‘Maria Anna d’Almada,’ CO 129/173, 128. 39 ‘Sir Arthur Kennedy to Cecil Clementi Smith, 27 July 1875, CO 129/171, 250, The National Archives, London; ‘Maria Anna d’Almada,’ CO 129/173, 127–131.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

87

with responsibilities and pursuits that transpired to other commitments outside of the workplace. The daily operations of Hong Kong’s public and private offices were thus maintained not by a restructuring of racial lines but by the demand for employment amongst migrants and the preference of Macanese workers over Europeans for their willingness to work for a relatively low salary. The pattern of placing the Macanese in the ‘middle’ was further entwined with a range of problems rooted in the lack of educational opportunities in Macau and emerging cultural perceptions of the Macanese as Asians who supported a lifestyle simpler than the typical Briton’s.

Grand-pré’s poor performance Like D’Almada, Alexandre Grand-pré has been described by existing literature as ‘one of the earliest victims in Hongkong of that unfair racial discrimination so wrongly practiced […] in [the] British Colonial administration.’40 The son of a French aide-de-camp to the Macau Governor and a Macanese woman, Grand-pré joined the British colonial administration in 1845 as a fourth clerk and was later promoted to third clerk.41 In 1855, the Government Gazette announced his appointment as Assistant Superintendent of Police and General Interpreter. 42 He filled in for Daniel Caldwell, whose sudden resignation created a vacuum in the police establishment. 43 According to an account, the appointment was owing to his knowledge of Bengali, Malay, Portuguese and Cantonese, yet further advancement in his career was hampered by segregation and corruption within the police force. 44 While there is no evidence to support such a claim, the appointment proved to be a big leap for Grand-pré. He moved from third clerk at the Colonial Secretary’s office to a position that ranked fourth in standing at the police establishment. Resembling the consequences of D’Almada’s quick career ascension, Grand-pré’s appointment did not go unnoticed. The press questioned why the colonial government had entrusted ‘an alien’ with such an important position. The government expressed that it was only a temporary

40 Braga, The Portuguese in Hongkong and China, 129. 41 W. Caine, ‘Government Notification No. 14,’ 17 December 1853, The Hongkong Government Gazette, 24 December 1853. 42 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. II, 1st ed., 143–144. 43 W.T. Mercer, ‘Government Notification No. 20,’ 9 August 1855, The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 August 1855, 2. 44 Xavier, ‘J.P. Braga and the Portuguese in Hong Kong,’ 3.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

87

with responsibilities and pursuits that transpired to other commitments outside of the workplace. The daily operations of Hong Kong’s public and private offices were thus maintained not by a restructuring of racial lines but by the demand for employment amongst migrants and the preference of Macanese workers over Europeans for their willingness to work for a relatively low salary. The pattern of placing the Macanese in the ‘middle’ was further entwined with a range of problems rooted in the lack of educational opportunities in Macau and emerging cultural perceptions of the Macanese as Asians who supported a lifestyle simpler than the typical Briton’s.

Grand-pré’s poor performance Like D’Almada, Alexandre Grand-pré has been described by existing literature as ‘one of the earliest victims in Hongkong of that unfair racial discrimination so wrongly practiced […] in [the] British Colonial administration.’40 The son of a French aide-de-camp to the Macau Governor and a Macanese woman, Grand-pré joined the British colonial administration in 1845 as a fourth clerk and was later promoted to third clerk.41 In 1855, the Government Gazette announced his appointment as Assistant Superintendent of Police and General Interpreter. 42 He filled in for Daniel Caldwell, whose sudden resignation created a vacuum in the police establishment. 43 According to an account, the appointment was owing to his knowledge of Bengali, Malay, Portuguese and Cantonese, yet further advancement in his career was hampered by segregation and corruption within the police force. 44 While there is no evidence to support such a claim, the appointment proved to be a big leap for Grand-pré. He moved from third clerk at the Colonial Secretary’s office to a position that ranked fourth in standing at the police establishment. Resembling the consequences of D’Almada’s quick career ascension, Grand-pré’s appointment did not go unnoticed. The press questioned why the colonial government had entrusted ‘an alien’ with such an important position. The government expressed that it was only a temporary

40 Braga, The Portuguese in Hongkong and China, 129. 41 W. Caine, ‘Government Notification No. 14,’ 17 December 1853, The Hongkong Government Gazette, 24 December 1853. 42 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. II, 1st ed., 143–144. 43 W.T. Mercer, ‘Government Notification No. 20,’ 9 August 1855, The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 August 1855, 2. 44 Xavier, ‘J.P. Braga and the Portuguese in Hong Kong,’ 3.

88 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

appointment and the noise soon died down. 45 The position was indeed not permanent; Grand-pré soon received a bigger and better opportunity. In May 1856, Grand-pré was promoted to Acting Superintendent of Police. Despite previous complaints in the press regarding the employment of nonBritons to higher-ranking posts, Grand-pré received the important task of replacing Charles May under May’s personal supervision.46 Grand-pré served at a challenging time of understaffing, corruption and disorder in the Hong Kong police force. In 1854, the government employed 131 police officers to look after a population of more than 39,000.47 The police force was multiethnic, with twenty-seven Europeans, sixty-six Indians and thirty-eight Chinese. This composition worried anxious Europeans, many of whom remained suspicious of the colony’s ‘non-whites.’48 Their concerns were intensified by ceaseless reports linked to power abuse and corruption within the police force, grave problems that Grand-pré inevitably came face-to-face with. In 1856, a case of extortion was brought to the court concerning a European police constable accused of extorting money out of Chinese gamblers. The policeman confessed to the Chief Justice that it was usual practice to extort $5 or $10 from Chinese gamblers. The court brought in Grand-pré and urged him to take up the immediate responsibility of regulating the abusive practices of the police force. One Attorney General suggested sewing the numbers of police constables onto their jackets in both English and Chinese to discourage them from committing illegal acts. With their numbers hanging on their uniforms, it would be too easy for victims to identify the policemen. Grandpré promised the Chief Justice that he would alleviate the situation but he eventually failed to introduce any changes to eliminate the abusive acts of the police and improve the public image of the Hong Kong police force. In 1857, Grand-pré was given another imminent task of enhancing the overall morale of the existing force with new recruits. Due to the lack of local enthusiasm, the colonial administration resorted to recruiting Malays in Singapore but to no avail. Grand-pré helped enlist thirty Macanese soldiers who had recently completed their term with the Macau garrison. As against his hopes, the new recruits did not do much to improve the situation. Quoting James William Norton-Kyshe, ‘The records [did] not show how these particular men bore themselves afterwards,’ especially as 45 James William Norton-Kyshe, History of the Laws and Courts of Hongkong, Vol. 1 (Hong Kong: Noronha and Company, 1898), 361–362. 46 W.T. Mercer, ‘Government Notif ication No. 66,’ 23 May 1856, The Hongkong Government Gazette I, no. 48, 24 May 1856. 47 The census showed a population of 39,017 on December 31, 1853. 48 Carol Jones and Jon Vagg, Criminal Justice in Hong Kong (London: Routledge, 2007), 50–51.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

89

the police department continued to receive frequent complaints from the colony’s residents regarding the poor performance of its staff.49 More than half of these recruits subsequently left their jobs, with only eleven remaining in the police force by 1861.50 This ‘achievement’ failed to prove Grand-pré was the right man for the job. In 1858, the Hong Kong government decided to re-appoint the Macanese as Collector of Police and Lightning Rates, a position that officials believed ‘much better fitted him.’51 A piece of writing from 1862 revealed W.T. Mercer, then already promoted to Colonial Secretary, was not happy with Grand-pré’s work performance. Mercer commented that Grand-pré always had a ready excuse to wriggle himself out of an unsatisfactory performance. He added that the Macanese had been tried in various positions but had failed in all of them.52 Grand-pré remained as Collector of Police and Lightning Rates until the position was abolished in 1863. He left office in late September and had an early retirement to Macau, where he would die the following year at the age of forty-six. Reconstructing a better understanding of the careers of ordinary men and women helps to deconstruct existing exaggerations of how colonizers managed racial lines to sustain colonial authority and prevent access to white privilege. The common idea that the colonial government situated Macanese workers in between the Europeans and the Chinese obscures the fact that Chinese compradors provided crucial insights to the Hong Kong administration and Macanese men like D’Almada and Grand-pré received opportunities to lead government offices shortly after the establishment of British Hong Kong. Approaching the cases of D’Almada and Grand-pré from the colored lens of racial prejudice presents the dangers of having a one-sided picture where dominant ‘colonized’ and ‘victim’ narratives ultimately overshadow the desires, thoughts and actions of individuals. D’Almada and Grand-pré were more than colonized subjects or victims of racial prejudice. Their stories bring out the ambitions and hopes of first-generation Macanese migrants, as well as shortcomings rooted in the lack of education and opportunities in Macau. Assuming the British colonial government made decisions based on skin color would also be to disregard D’Almada’s efforts to negotiate for advancement, Grand-pré’s poor work performance, or the fact that both Macanese achieved prominent leadership positions that allowed them to lead Macanese, Chinese, Indian and British juniors. 49 Norton-Kyshe, History of the Laws and Courts of Hongkong, Vol. 1, 401–402, 437. 50 Jones and Vagg, Criminal Justice, 51. 51 Norton-Kyshe, History of the Laws and Courts of Hongkong, Vol. 1, 453. 52 Endacott, A Biographical Sketch-book, 120.

90 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

One of the government’s most valuable collaborators during this period was Daniel Richard Caldwell, a controversial figure with ambiguous origins. Caldwell maintained intimate relations with the Chinese population and had a Chinese wife at a time when Europeans ostracized whites who had Chinese partners. Governor Bowring once described Caldwell as ‘a man of mixed blood, born at Singapore [and] married to a Chinese woman converted to Christianity.’53 It was, nonetheless, Caldwell’s links to the Chinese underground that made him a cherished informant of the British colonial administration. He started out as a translator for the Hong Kong government and quickly ascended to the positions of Acting Superintendent of Police in 1849 and General Interpreter of Chinese, Portuguese, Hindustani and Malay languages. Caldwell became the Registrar-General and Protector of Chinese in 1856.54 He twice resigned and was once dismissed for illegal activities. Yet despite his complex background, Caldwell helped the Hong Kong government wipe out pirates on the China coast during the late 1840s. The Governor reported to the Earl Grey that the operation succeeded owing to ‘Mr. Caldwell’s energy and local knowledge’ and asked for the Colonial Office to present him with an award equal to the amount of a Lieutenant’s.55 In 1856, the colonial administration made a few changes to curb the potential outbreak of unrest amongst the Chinese resulting from the Second Opium War.56 It declared martial law and granted the Europeans the right to lock up their Chinese servants and shoot any suspicious-looking Chinese for self-defense.57 Mercer informed the Chinese that if they had questions or difficulties understanding the law, they were to approach Caldwell in his office or at his residency in times of emergency.58 In 1861, Caldwell left the government after reports surfaced pointing to his business connections to Chinese brothels and pirates, but he was soon reappointed to another position. It almost never seemed to matter what Caldwell had done that was against the law, because the government always needed his service afterwards. With the vacuum left by Caldwell, one Governor complained to the Colonial Office that Hong Kong lacked government

53 Endacott, A Biographical Sketch, 95. 54 Hongkong Blue Book 1853, CO 133/10, 98, The National Archives, London. 55 ‘Sir George Bonham to The Earl Grey,’ 3 November 1849, CO 129/30, 255–258, The National Archives, London. 56 Sinn, Power and Charity, 25. 57 Carroll, A Concise History of Hong Kong, 27. 58 W.T. Mercer, ‘Government Notification No. 131,’ 4 December 1856, The Hong Kong Government Gazette, no. 75, 6 December 1856, 2.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

91

officials who could properly understand Chinese.59 The new Governor, Sir Richard Graves MacDonnell, unofficially re-appointed Caldwell as adviser when the government decided to establish licensed gaming houses.60 Clearly, Caldwell’s ambiguous origins and various connections to the Chinese did not stop his career with the Hong Kong government from blossoming. Belonging neither to the British nor Chinese worlds, but simultaneously involved in both, Caldwell proved to be a strategic collaborator for the British colonial government. More than showing the appointment of a racially-ambiguous individual to crucial public positions, his successful career in British Hong Kong is telling of the practical circumstances that colonial governments dealt with in maintaining social order and sustaining imperial rule.

Port wine and new opportunities A glimpse into the unpublished diary of Constancio Joaquim Gonsalves, a clerk at the Hongkong Bank, allows us to further delve into the worlds of Macanese workers from their perspective.61 Gonsalves joined the Hongkong Bank in 1865 where, according to Frank King’s account, he encountered racial prejudice. King wrote that Gonsalves was paid a lower wage compared to a European of the same rank. In 1866, he received a meager salary increase of $20, raising his wage from $80 to $100. His colleague, Gifford Moody joined the bank in the same year, yet received a salary increase from $100 to $200 during the same period. King argued that the small pay raise mirrored unequal treatment based on racial differences. A careful look into the Hongkong Bank’s minutes, however, reveals a different picture. Moody started as a general assistant but transferred to the post of assistant accountant in early 1866.62 He continued to pursue a career in accounting, leaving the Hongkong Bank in 1868 to join the Yokohama Agency as an accountant.63 59 Carroll, A Concise History, 50. 60 Endacott, A Biographical Sketch, 99. 61 The diary is only accessible through Frank King’s accounts. For this, see Frank H.H. King, Catherine E. King and David J.S. King, History of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Vol. 1, The Hongkong Bank in Late Imperial China 1864–1902: On An Even Keel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 250–253. 62 ‘Minutes of Meeting of the 9th March 1865,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors, HK 0288-0005, HSBC Archive, Hong Kong; ‘Minutes of Meeting of 2nd January 1866,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors. 63 ‘Minutes of Meeting of the 2nd March 1868,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

91

officials who could properly understand Chinese.59 The new Governor, Sir Richard Graves MacDonnell, unofficially re-appointed Caldwell as adviser when the government decided to establish licensed gaming houses.60 Clearly, Caldwell’s ambiguous origins and various connections to the Chinese did not stop his career with the Hong Kong government from blossoming. Belonging neither to the British nor Chinese worlds, but simultaneously involved in both, Caldwell proved to be a strategic collaborator for the British colonial government. More than showing the appointment of a racially-ambiguous individual to crucial public positions, his successful career in British Hong Kong is telling of the practical circumstances that colonial governments dealt with in maintaining social order and sustaining imperial rule.

Port wine and new opportunities A glimpse into the unpublished diary of Constancio Joaquim Gonsalves, a clerk at the Hongkong Bank, allows us to further delve into the worlds of Macanese workers from their perspective.61 Gonsalves joined the Hongkong Bank in 1865 where, according to Frank King’s account, he encountered racial prejudice. King wrote that Gonsalves was paid a lower wage compared to a European of the same rank. In 1866, he received a meager salary increase of $20, raising his wage from $80 to $100. His colleague, Gifford Moody joined the bank in the same year, yet received a salary increase from $100 to $200 during the same period. King argued that the small pay raise mirrored unequal treatment based on racial differences. A careful look into the Hongkong Bank’s minutes, however, reveals a different picture. Moody started as a general assistant but transferred to the post of assistant accountant in early 1866.62 He continued to pursue a career in accounting, leaving the Hongkong Bank in 1868 to join the Yokohama Agency as an accountant.63 59 Carroll, A Concise History, 50. 60 Endacott, A Biographical Sketch, 99. 61 The diary is only accessible through Frank King’s accounts. For this, see Frank H.H. King, Catherine E. King and David J.S. King, History of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Vol. 1, The Hongkong Bank in Late Imperial China 1864–1902: On An Even Keel (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987), 250–253. 62 ‘Minutes of Meeting of the 9th March 1865,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors, HK 0288-0005, HSBC Archive, Hong Kong; ‘Minutes of Meeting of 2nd January 1866,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors. 63 ‘Minutes of Meeting of the 2nd March 1868,’ Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors.

92 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Gonsalves chose a different career path. He worked as a general assistant and remained in the same position for forty-two years until his death in 1906. For his long service, the bank’s directors offered a gratuity of $7,500 to his widow in condolence.64 Gonsalves was a responsible and easy-going clerk who kept books and assisted other colleagues in their day-to-day duties. On a typical workday, he writes, on top of his own work, an extra seventy-one drafts and five slips. He sometimes felt frustrated with his colleagues, particularly when there was a lot of work to be done. One diary entry shows Gonsalves’s annoyance with a coworker: Until now six o’clock I cannot succeed to balance my books and am short of ten shares. Gibson this morning solicited my assistance and was rather rude in his expression. What have I to do with the Accountant’s Department? […] I could not give any assistance to the acting accountant. I myself am too busy and nobody assists me. They always want my assistance but they never assist me. Very nice fellows they are and very slow coaches too.

He went to work that Sunday because he could not finish his tasks, which was documented thus: ‘Sunday. Hard working day. I and Rozario in the office since one o’clock. I succeed to balance my books.’ His job as an assistant at the Hongkong Bank allowed Gonsalves to acquire other ‘privileges’ of working for a bank. In his diary, he revealed owing the bank $131.62, including six months’ interest of $7.83, but decided anyway to buy a dozen bottles of porto wine from J.J. Remedios and Co. with a fellow Macanese colleague. Gonsalves also mentioned being unable to pay his rent of $32 and his insistent request for his manager to help him get additional loans from the bank. The bank’s directors eventually granted him a loan of $350 on the terms that he gave up his security to the bank, explaining to the manager that this was ‘for the interest of the bank.’ While Gonsalves appeared content with his job, there was one thing that deeply bothered him. He remarked on the presence of class division amongst Macanese workers, revealing that out of the four Macanese working for the bank in 1871, only one colleague named Pereira was invited to the Chief Manager Victor Kresser’s retirement party. Gonsalves complained that the exclusion of other Macanese employees was ‘very unfair and irrational’ and observed that ‘pride and injustice’ served as ‘the order of the day’ in the 64 ‘Meeting of Directors,’ 18 December 1868, Minute Book 16.1.1906 to 1.9.1908, HSBC Archive, Hong Kong.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

93

bank. He questioned whether Pereira received better treatment because his father was a rich man or because he was recommended to his position by Dent.65 Pereira’s integration into the social worlds of the Hongkong bank’s higher-ranking European staff affirms the influence of class and social network in one’s personal and career development, an important phenomenon that would be further developed by middle-class Macanese and discussed in the next chapter. Although his incomplete diary only offers us a tiny slice of life within the Hongkong bank, Gonsalves’s experience shows everyday routines that kept Hong Kong’s private and public offices running. It further reminds us of the importance of considering the lives of migrant workers outside the workplace, which kept them loyally tied to their jobs. Despite being anchored to a low-ranking clerical position, Gonsalves eased into a lifelong career with the Hongkong Bank, enjoying the occasional port wine while relying on his job and the access to bank loans to settle his bills. By the 1880s, developments in the colony opened up new paths for the political involvement of non-Britons. The new Governor, an Irish Catholic whose wife was a quarter Malay, brought his advocacy for racial equality to Hong Kong. John Pope Hennessy was passionate about fighting racial prejudice because he was never considered a true Briton for his Irish background and for marrying a Eurasian woman. During his governorship in Barbados from 1875 to 1876, Hennessy advocated policies against racial prejudice that ended with a black uprising.66 In Hong Kong, he concentrated his efforts on breaking existing racial lines, promoting English education amongst all children and defending the need for equal rights of non-Europeans. He was particularly close to the native Chinese community, calling Hong Kong-born Chinese subjects ‘our Anglo-Chinese subjects.’ Hennessy had frequent meetings with ‘Chinese friends’ who advised him on policy-making.67 Through encouraging the political involvement of Chinese subjects, he built new bridges that allowed non-Britons to attain unprecedented power. His administration was, nevertheless, a controversial one. The British community criticized Hennessy for having a ‘native race craze’ and accused him of instigating ‘class jealousies and misunderstandings’ that had, in their claims, been absent between the foreigners and natives in the previous 65 King, King and King, History of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking, 251–253. 66 Kate Lowe and Eugene McLaughlin, ‘Sir John Pope Hennessy and The “Native Race Craze”: Colonial Government in Hong Kong, 1877–1882,’ The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History 20, no. 2 (1992), 229, 223. 67 Christopher Munn, Anglo-China: Chinese People and British Rule (Richmond, Surrey: Curzon Press, 2001), 367.

94 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

decades.68 Hennessy was so unpopular that on the eve of his departure as Governor of Hong Kong, no representative from the foreign business community went to bid him farewell. As opposed to the disdain of the Europeans, the Macanese community loved Governor Hennessy for his advocacies. In 1878, Hennessy nominated Macanese civil servant Januário António de Carvalho to the position of Acting Colonial Treasurer.69 If the nomination were successful, he would become the first official member of the Legislative Council who was not European. Carvalho joined the Colonial Treasury in 1855 as second clerk and accountant, but he, too, faced a stagnant career after his promotion to first clerk and cashier in 1860. By then, he was earning an annual salary of £400.70 Even though D’Almada previously served in the capacity of Acting Colonial Secretary three decades before, it was never an official nomination. Carvalho’s nomination marked the first time a Macanese had been recommended for a seat on the Council. The appointment met with opposition and finally failed because Carvalho was an ‘alien.’ According to Hennessy’s Chinese Secretary, Ernst Eitel, the appointment was technically impossible since ‘[he] could not take the oath of allegiance’ as an alien.71 To be qualified, Carvalho would have to be naturalized as a British subject. Under Hennessy’s reforms, a Straits-born Anglo-Chinese subject, Ng Choy (伍才, also known as Wu Tingfang伍廷芳) would prove naturalization an effective path to overcoming career barriers. A Singapore-born Englishtrained barrister, Ng Choy had acquired British status prior to his arrival in Hong Kong. In 1878, Hennessy appointed him the first Chinese Justice of the Peace (JP). The title came with actual judiciary duties and invested recipients with considerable prestige and social status. Under Hennessy’s persistence, Ng Choy was eventually appointed the first non-British unofficial member of the Legislative Council in January 1880.72 The question of status, which three decades ago conveniently barred D’Almada from claiming the rights to a higher rank, was no longer an excuse for maintaining an all-European Council, if at least in an unofficial capacity. To enable the political inclusion of more non-British subjects, Governor Hennessy attempted to convince the Colonial Office that long-term Chinese residents of the colony should be 68 ‘Hong Kong City Hall,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 28 August 1880, 2. 69 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. II, 1st ed., 683. 70 Hongkong Blue Book, CO 133/20, 112, The National Archives, London. 71 Eitel, Europe in China, 530. 72 ‘Governor Pope-Hennessy to Secretary Sir Michael Hicks Beach,’ 19 January 1880, CO 129/187, The National Archives, London; Pomerantz-Zhang, Wu Tingfang (1842–1922), 57–59.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

95

granted naturalization to facilitate Anglo-Chinese relations in the colony.73 This plan was rejected but Hennessy ratified a local ordinance and granted individual bills of naturalization, which conferred rights and privileges to those who successfully became ‘British subjects’ within the boundaries of the colony. Eitel became the first to be granted the status of ‘British subject’ under the ordinance in 1880. Due to Governor Hennessy’s highly unpopular reputation amongst the foreign community of Hong Kong, the Colonial Office made the decision to transfer him to Mauritius in 1882. Although European residents were happy to see him go, his departure caused great sadness to the Chinese and Macanese communities. Representing the Macanese community, Carvalho thanked the Governor with an address, which read: Your Excellency has laid down and enforced the rule that the Portuguese servants of the Crown stand on a footing of the most perfect equality with every other class of Her Majesty’s subjects, and that they are entitled, irrespective of nationality, to pay and promotion in their respective Departments according to length of service and special qualifications […] We thank your Excellency from our hearts […] we place above and beyond all your other qualifications for government your sense of equity, justice and fair play[.]

Hennessy responded by claiming he had never met in his colonial career a group of gentlemen more ‘deserving of the confidence of a Governor than Her Majesty’s Portuguese officials.’74 Through the enactment of the naturalization ordinance, Hennessy paved an alternative path for the Macanese to climb the social ladders. In December 1883, Carvalho successfully petitioned to become a British subject. He earned the title of JP along with another Chinese, Wong Shing, who quickly established a career in politics and became the second Chinese to be appointed as an unofficial member of the Legislative Council in 1884.75 Carvalho, however, remained with a moderate salary in his position as first clerk and cashier at the Colonial Treasury until his retirement. In 1883, Colonial Treasurer Alfred Lister described him as having ‘for some years 73 Pomerantz-Zhang, Wu Tingfang (1842–1922), 57. 74 ‘Local and General,’ The China Mail, 7 March 1882, 3. 75 J.H. Stewart-Lockhart, ‘Government Notification—No. 426,’ The Hong Kong Government Gazette, 29 December 1883, 982; W.H. Marsh, ‘Government Notification—No. 428,’ The Hong Kong Government Gazette, 29 December 1883, 992.

96 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

represented what may be called the permanent head of the [Treasury] department,’ but which Carvalho felt was not reflected in his salary.76 There is no evidence to suggest why Carvalho did not further his career with the Hong Kong government, but earning the title of JP after his naturalization increased Carvalho’s social status within the Macanese community. Having served the British government for a total of thirty-four years and five months, Carvalho retired in 1893 at the age of sixty-two. *** Almost five decades ago, Ronald Robinson pioneered the ‘theory of collaboration’ in revealing non-Europeans as a crucial pillar that facilitated and sustained European colonialism in Asia. Robinson suggested that collaboration, or sometimes non-collaboration, were detrimental to the regulation and maintenance of imperialism.77 As long as mediating elites felt satisfied with the terms of collaboration, colonies were bound to flourish in peace and stability.78 Happy collaborators achieved great power whereas miserable ones gradually turned to resist colonial rule, eventually leading to the birth of anti-colonial sentiments and resistance movements.79 This idea has since been adopted, questioned and revised in countless ways.80 One 76 ‘J.A. Carvalho to N.G. Mitchell-Innes,’ 19 December 1892, CO 129/258, 14, The National Archives, London. 77 Anil Seal had suggested, before Robinson’s conceptualization, the idea of ‘collaboration,’ arguing that Indian nationalism only developed when British rulers could no longer satisfy the aspirations of the collaborating western-educated elites. Anil Seal, The Emergence of Indian Nationalism: Competition and Collaboration in the Later Nineteenth Century (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968), 344–345; Robinson, ‘Non-European Foundations,’ 118. 78 Robinson, ‘Non-European Foundations,’ 119–121; 132–137. 79 For examples, see Seal, The Emergence of Indian Nationalism; Mark Ravinder Frost, ‘Transcultural Diaspora: The Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1918,’ Asia Research Institute Working Paper Series, no. 10 (2003); Law Wing Sang, Collaborative Colonial Power: The Making of the Hong Kong Chinese (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2009), 103–130; AhRan Ellie Bae, ‘Helen Kim as New Woman and Collaborator: A Comprehensive Assessment of Korean Collaboration under Japanese Colonial Rule,’ International Journal of Korean History 22, no. 1 (2017), 107–137. 80 James Onley, for instance, drew on the theory to argue that indigenous subjects ran the ‘British informal empire’ in the Persian Gulf in a manner similar to that of British India. Kaori Abe’s work on the Chinese compradors in nineteenth century British Hong Kong highlighted the role and importance of these Chinese as economic intermediaries between Hong Kong and foreign countries. See James Onley, The Arabian Frontier of the British Raj: Merchants, Rulers and British in Nineteenth-Century Gulf (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007); Abe, Chinese Middlemen. See also Stephen Howe, ed., The New Imperial Histories Reader (London: Routledge, 2010); Yumi Moon, Populist Collaborators: The Ilchinhoe and the Japanese Colonization of Korea, 1896–1910 (Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2013).

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

97

thing, nevertheless, is for sure. Robinson placed too much emphasis on the roles of colonial elites and their impact on the rise and decline of colonial administrations. He overlooked the fact that running a colony required the obedience of the public mass and the loyal services of ordinary workers.81 In the case of Hong Kong, the service of Macanese migrant workers and their roles as the administrative backbone of public and private offices show a more practical aspect of how early colonial establishments were built and maintained. The terms of cooperation were simple: European employers found the Macanese ideal for their loyalty and readiness to work for a lower salary, whereas the Macanese found a more stable and liberal atmosphere in which to nurture their careers and families in a developing city. Furthermore, the ‘theory of collaboration’ to a great extent attributed to colonized subjects an agency powerful enough to influence, reshape or shatter existing practices in colonialism. Although the concept of collaboration gave a voice to the colonized, the idea is flawed f irst by the presumption of a strategy wherein colonial rulers engaged in collaborative relationships with non-European individuals to facilitate and maintain colonialism, and second by the notion that unsatisfactory terms of collaboration usually resulted in resistance against colonial governments. In this vein, collaboration denotes a pattern of domination and submission between colonizers and the colonized, denying the normative ways in which interaction between Europeans and non-Europeans took shape in the colonial context. As migrant collaborators who were not strategically crucial to the lifeline of British colonial rule, the Macanese experience offers an alternative narrative that sees collaboration as a heterogeneous process derailed from the aim of maintaining or challenging colonialism. The colony did not function under a mediated mechanism where the lives of the colonized came to be shaped by alien rulers; instead, ordinary men and women who came in search of better opportunities helped to build the colony with their bare hands. We need to start seeing the colonial setting as 81 Discussions from the Subaltern Studies, in particular, have highlighted the importance of non-elites in influencing colonial governments. Ranajit Guha critiqued the importance that Robinson offered to ‘elites,’ suggesting instead to highlight the role of the peasant masses in British India as a community of ‘agency’ through rebellion and protest. A.E. Atmore also criticized Robinson’s theory for ignoring the role of groups like ‘modernizers’ who facilitated modernization and the impact of military force on the maintenance of colonial rule. See John Lonsdale and Bruce Berman, ‘Coping with the Contradictions: The Development of the Colonial State in Kenya, 1895–1914,’ Journal of African History 20 (1979), 487–505; Ranajit Guha, Elementary Aspects of Peasant Insurgency in Colonial India (Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1983); A.E. Atmore, ‘The Extra-European Foundations of British Imperialism: Towards a Reassessment,’ in British Imperialism in the Nineteenth Century, ed. C.C. Eldridge (Macmillan: London, 1984), 106–126.

98 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

a place of new explorations where governments, migrants and natives came together and collectively imagined and molded Hong Kong into a unique city borne out of multicultural interaction and overlapping aspirations.

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources HSBC Archive, Hong Kong HK 0288-0005, Ledger containing signed minutes of the meetings of Directors and special meeting of Board of Directors. ‘Meeting of Directors.’ 18 December 1868. Minute Book 16.1.1906 to 1.9.1908. Public Records Office of Hong Kong, Hong Kong HKRS 144-4/303, ‘Will No. 36 of 1875, Probate No. 930 of 1875: Leonardo d’Almada e Castro, deceased.’ 5 January 1875. The National Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew CO 129/173, ‘Maria Anna d’Almada e Castro and Anna Filomena d’Almada e Castro to The Earl of Carnarvon.’ CO 129/173, ‘Sir Arthur Kennedy to Cecil Clementi Smith.’ 27 July 1875. CO 129/187, ‘Governor Pope-Hennessy to Secretary Sir Michael Hicks Beach.’ 19 January 1880. CO 129/258, ‘J.A. Carvalho to N.G. Mitchell-Innes.’ 19 December 1892. CO 129/30, ‘Sir George Bonham to The Earl Grey.’ 3 November 1849. CO 129/44, ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to Sir George Bonham.’ 16 October 1851. CO 129/45, ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to the Duke of Newcastle.’ 9 January 1854. CO 129/45, ‘Sir George Bonham to The Duke of Newcastle.’ 20 January 1854. CO 129/45, ‘To Herman Merivale in letter from Sir George Bonham to the Duke of Newcastle.’ 25 April 1854. CO 129/45, ‘William Caine to Sir George Bonham.’ 10 January 1854. CO 129/47, ‘Leonardo d’Almada e Castro to Sir George Grey.’ 30 November 1854. CO 133/10, Hongkong Blue Book 1853. CO 133/20, Hongkong Blue Book 1863.

Published primary sources ‘Civil Establishment of Hongkong for the Year 1871.’ Hongkong Blue Book. Hong Kong: Noronha & Sons, 1872. Eitel, Ernest. Europe in China: The History of Hongkong from the Beginning to the Year 1882. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1983.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

99

‘Votes and Proceedings of the Legislative Council of Hong Kong,’ 23 February 1875. Braga, José Pedro. The Rights of Aliens in Hong Kong: Being a Record of the Discussion Carried on Through the Medium of the Public Press as to the Employment of Aliens in the Colony. Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1895. Norton-Kyshe, James William. History of the Laws and Courts of Hongkong, Vol. 1. Hong Kong: Noronha and Company, 1898.

Newspapers Hongkong Daily Press, Hong Kong The China Mail, Hong Kong The Friend of China and Hong Kong Gazette, Hong Kong The Hongkong Government Gazette, Hong Kong

Secondary sources Atmore, A.E. ‘The Extra-European Foundations of British Imperialism: Towards a Reassessment.’ In British Imperialism in the Nineteenth Century, edited by C.C. Eldridge, 106–126. Macmillan: London, 1984. Bae, AhRan Ellie. ‘Helen Kim as New Woman and Collaborator: A Comprehensive Assessment of Korean Collaboration under Japanese Colonial Rule.’ International Journal of Korean History 22, no. 1 (2017): 107–137. Ballatchet, Kenneth. Race, Sex and Class under the Raj: Imperial Policies and their Critics, 1793–1905. New York: St. Martin’s Press, 1980. Braga, José Pedro. The Portuguese in Hong Kong and China: Their Beginning, Settlement and Progress to 1949, Vol. 1. Macau: Instituto Internacional Macau and University of Macau, 2013. Braga, Stuart. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. Carroll, John M. A Concise History of Hong Kong. New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007. —. Edge of Empires: Chinese Elites and British Colonials in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007. Cooper, Frederick, and Ann Laura Stoler, eds. Tensions of Empire: Colonial Cultures in A Bourgeois World. London: University of California Press, 1997. Da Silva, Jorge, and António M. Pacheco. The Portuguese Community in Hong Kong: A Pictorial History, Vol. I. Macau: Macau Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2007. DeWolf, Christopher. ‘How Hong Kong’s Once-Thriving Portuguese Community Nearly Vanished.’ 12 October 2016. Zolima City Mag.

100 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Ding Xinbao 丁新豹 and Lu Shuying 盧淑櫻. Feiwo zuyi: zhanqian Xianggang de waiji zuqun 非我族裔: 戰前香港的外籍族群 (Not of My Kind: Foreign Communities in Pre-war Hong Kong). Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian, 2014. Endacott, G.B. A Biographical Sketch-Book of Early Hong Kong. Singapore: Eastern Universities Press Limited, 1962. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vols. I–III. 1st ed. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996. Frost, Mark Ravinder. ‘Transcultural Diaspora: The Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1918.’ Asia Research Institute Working Paper Series, no. 10 (2003). Guha, Ranajit. Elementary Aspects of Peasant Insurgency in Colonial India. Delhi: Oxford University Press, 1983. Howe, Stephen, ed. The New Imperial Histories Reader. London: Routledge, 2010. Jones, Carol, and Jon Vagg. Criminal Justice in Hong Kong. London: Routledge, 2007. Kaori Abe. Chinese Middlemen in Hong Kong’s Colonial Economy, 1830–1890. New York: Routledge, 2018. King, Frank H.H., Catherine E. King, and David J.S. King. History of the Hongkong and Shanghai Banking Corporation Vol. 1, The Hongkong Bank in Late Imperial China 1864–1902: On An Even Keel. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1987. Law Wing Sang. Collaborative Colonial Power: The Making of the Hong Kong Chinese. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2009. Lethbridge, Henry J. Hong Kong, Stability and Change: A Collection of Essays. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1978. Lonsdale, John, and Bruce Berman. ‘Coping with the Contradictions: The Development of the Colonial State in Kenya, 1895–1914.’ Journal of African History 20 (1979): 487–505. Lowe, Kate, and Eugene McLaughlin. ‘Sir John Pope Hennessy and The “Native Race Craze”: Colonial Government in Hong Kong, 1877–1882.’ The Journal of Imperial and Commonwealth History 20, no. 2 (1992): 223–247. Moon, Yumi. Populist Collaborators: The Ilchinhoe and the Japanese Colonization of Korea, 1896–1910. Ithaca, NY: Cornell University Press, 2013. Montalto De Jesus, C.A. Historic Macao: International Traits in China Old and New. Macau: Salesian Printing Press and Tipografia Mercantil, 1926. Munn, Christopher. Anglo-China: Chinese People and British Rule in Hong Kong, 1841–1880. Richmond, Surrey: Curzon Press, 2001. Onley, James. The Arabian Frontier of the British Raj: Merchants, Rulers and British in Nineteenth-Century Gulf. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2007. Pomerantz-Zhang, Linda. Wu Tingfang (1842–1922): Reform and Modernization in Modern Chinese History. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1992. Robinson, Ronald. ‘Non-European Foundations of European Imperialism: Sketch for a Theory of Collaboration.’ In Studies in the Theory of Imperialism, edited by Roger Owen and Bob Sutcliffe, 117–142. London: Longman, 1972.

Sandwiched in the Workpl ace

101

Seal, Anil. The Emergence of Indian Nationalism: Competition and Collaboration in the Later Nineteenth Century. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1968. Sinn, Elizabeth. Power and Charity: A Chinese Merchant Elite in Colonial Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2003. Tsang, Steve. A Modern History of Hong Kong. London: I.B. Taurus, 2007. Wamagatta, Evanson N. ‘African Collaborators and their Quest for Power in Colonial Kenya: Senior Chief Waruhiu wa Kung’u’s Rise from Obscurity to Prominence, 1890–1922.’ The International Journal of African Historical Studies 41, no. 2 (2008): 295–314. Xavier, Roy Eric. ‘J.P. Braga and the Portuguese in Hong Kong.’ UMA News Bulletin 36 no. 1 (2013): 1–4. Ye Nong葉農. ‘Ershi shiji qian Xianggang Puren de zuqun rentong 20世紀前期 香港葡人的族群認同’ (The Identity of the Portuguese Ethnic Group in Hong Kong in the Early Period of the Twentieth Century). Ethno-National Studies民 族研究 no. 3 (2012): 93–110.

3

Horseracing, Theater and Camões Abstract In 1866, Hong Kong’s middle-class Macanese founded Club Lusitano Ltd., the largest Portuguese gentlemen’s club in southern China. Modeled after British clubs yet boasting selective Portuguese characteristics, the club carved a space for the Macanese to elevate their presence in Hong Kong. It allowed Macanese men who worked as clerks and small business owners in the daytime to transcend the glass ceilings they encountered in the workplace. While showcasing the Portuguese flag, playing the Hino da Carta anthem and commemorating the legendary Portuguese poet Camões emerged as ways to legitimize Club Lusitano’s Portugueseness, inviting British government officials and prominent non-Macanese businessmen to lavish celebrations mirroring Portugal’s festivals opened new doors through which to enter the social worlds of respectable Europeans, businessmen and colonial officials. Keywords: clubbability, gentlemen’s clubs, public sphere, masculinity, middle class, Britishness

Notwithstanding the inequities of colonization, the setting up of a British administration in Hong Kong infused new life into the otherwise quiet Chinese territory. The flocking of settlers and fortune hunters transformed Hong Kong from a sleepy backwater to a spirited polyglot city by the 1880s. Every day, steamers came and left. Privileged shoppers visited Lane Crawford & Co. Migrant communities celebrated their heritage in class- and raceexclusive associational clubs. Ernst Eitel, having lived through the era, captured the very essence of Hong Kong’s emerging vibrancy as he wrote: In addition to the established periodical treats provided by the Amateur Dramatic Corps, the Choral Society, the Horticultural Society, the Victoria Recreation and Regatta Clubs, the Liedertafel of the Club Germania, and the Race Club, this period is distinguished by some specially successful

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_ch03

104 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

celebrations, among which mention is due to St. Patrick’s festival (March 17, 1879), the centenary of the birth of the Irish poet Tom Moore (May 28, 1879), the Masonic Ball of 15th January, 1880, the anniversary of Washington’s birthday (February 23, 1880), and the tercentenary of Camoens (June 10, 1880).1

Associational platforms provided Hong Kong’s migrants and settlers with recreation, company and an alternative form of solidarity that was often absent in the workplace. Yet the rise of new sociability came with rules of exclusion that resulted in ethnic and communal segregation. Affluent Britons kept the Taipans’ Club (later renamed the Hongkong Club) a haven for middle-class British men; in the Happy Valley racecourse, spectators huddled according to class status. One British journalist noted on his visit in 1858 that the colony’s ‘British, French, Malays, East Indians, Manila Indians, and Celestials’ showed equal enthusiasm over racing days but the lower classes huddled in crowded ‘one-shilling stands’ made of mat-sheds while pipe-smoking bourgeois watchers cheered from grandstands ‘filled with swells and crinoline.’2 It was, however, between these fine lines of demarcation that men and women negotiated identity, gender, social class and authority in various colonial settings. From gentlemen’s clubs to recreational organizations, associational spaces embodied the process of empowerment, providing members with the opportunity to get together with people who shared the same interests and collectively work to broaden their social influence and public visibility. Clubs allowed ordinary Europeans to domesticate imperialism and widen their authority over local affairs. English men and women in India, for instance, used club space to address both local and national issues.3 Colonized subjects also turned to associational worlds to shape their personal and communal discourses. This was exactly what a group of Indian women did as they carved out their very own independent spaces, sheltered from the social norms of the day, in order to disrupt existing patterns of colonial and gender exclusivity. 4 For aspiring subjects 1 Eitel, Europe in China, 563. 2 Charles Wirgman, The Illustrated London News, 18 February 1858; ‘Sketches In China—HongKong Races, 1858,’ The Illustrated London News, 15 May 1858, 496. 3 Alison Blunt, ‘Imperial Geographies of Home: British Domesticity in India, 1886–1925,’ Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 24, no. 4 (1999), 426; Benjamin Cohen, ‘Networks of Sociability: Women’s Clubs in Colonial and Postcolonial India,’ Frontiers 30, no. 3 (2009), 168. 4 Benjamin B. Cohen, In the Club: Associational Life in Colonial South Asia (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2015), 147–164.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

105

from diasporic communities, gentlemen’s clubs and racial associations proved useful in fabricating images of ‘home’ while consolidating their social footing on foreign soil.5 Straits-born Chinese elites, for example, weighed in on Chinese politics and adopted Confucian ethics in constructing their discourses of authority in Singapore and Burma.6 Through associational spaces, migrants often created synergy between the motherland and the hostland; they drew on selective bits and pieces of home in constructing new identities that ideally gave them a voice in colonial societies. Club Lusitano Ltd., the largest Macanese gentlemen’s club in nineteenthcentury Hong Kong, was a power sanctuary for affluent Macanese men. The members of Club Lusitano boasted a Portuguese identity that was ambiguous and selective, with many having never stepped foot in Portugal prior to their arrival in the British colony. These Macanese, nevertheless, used their status as subjects of the Portuguese empire in imagining and forging new connections to the fatherland, usually by mirroring Portuguese festivals and monarchical celebrations. Showcasing the Portuguese flag, playing the Hino da Carta anthem and commemorating legendary poet Camões emerged as methods that helped legitimize Club Lusitano’s Portugueseness. For this group of middle-class men, being Portuguese worked in elevating their public presence in Hong Kong. It allowed them the chance to claim authority over the colony’s Portuguese affairs while opening new doors to enter the social worlds of respectable Europeans, businessmen and colonial officials. Certainly, the pioneering members of Club Lusitano were not the first or the last to harness transimperial links to Portugal and Portuguese culture. António Hespanha’s remarkable monograph Os Filhos da Terra has highlighted the fabrication of different degrees of Portugueseness, manifested in the empire’s institutional structures and cultural practices, amongst local power clusters across the Portuguese empire.7 Situated within the spaces of a British colony, Club Lusitano evidences the transimperial making of a unique kind of Portugueseness that transcended the Portuguese sphere. The process required a lot of ambition and a great deal of imagination.

5 T.N. Harper, ‘Globalism and the Pursuit of Authenticity: The Making of a Diasporic Public Sphere in Singapore,’ Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 12, no. 2 (1997), 261–292. 6 Christine Doran, ‘The Chinese Origins of Democracy: Dynamic Confucianism in Singapore,’ Nebula 7, no. 4 (2010), 47–53; Penny Edwards, ‘Relocating the Interlocutor: Taw Sein Ko (1864–1930) and the Itinerancy of Knowledge in British Burma,’ South East Asia Research 12, no. 3 (2004), 277–335. 7 Hespanha, Filhos da Terra.

106 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Strictly male, strictly rich, strictly colored We start with a rough sketch of Hong Kong’s associational topography between the 1840s and 1860s (Fig. 5). The Hongkong Club stood at the heart of the colony’s associational worlds, dominating the organization of official celebrations, cricket matches and horseracing events in the colony. Its members represented the Cricket Club in inter-port matches against teams from neighboring ports such as the Straits Settlement and Shanghai.8 In 1869, the club historically hosted the Duke of Edinburgh during a royal visit to Hong Kong.9 To become a part of the prestigious Hongkong Club, one had to be British, supported by ballot and able to afford the entrance fee of $30 and a monthly subscription of $4.10 Although the rules claimed to welcome ‘any gentleman,’ the Hongkong Club remained strictly white for a hundred years.11 In a similar manner, the Germans fostered racial and class division with the establishment of two clubs to accommodate a population of less than two hundred. Middle-class Germans paid $20, with an additional monthly subscription of $9, to join the bourgeois Club Germania and enjoy the comforts of its library, billiard room, concert hall, bowling alley, guest rooms and dining hall.12 Small business owners who found Club Germania too lavish socialized in the Captain’s Club. Being the more prestigious of the two, Club Germania hosted Prince Henry of Prussia when he made an appearance in Hong Kong during the late nineteenth century.13 Middle-class gentlemen’s clubs exuded an air of privilege, allowing ordinary men and their partners the once-in-a-lifetime opportunity to meet members of royal families or prominent political figures. While gentlemen’s clubs catered for the needs of bourgeois men, some associational spaces adopted ambiguous forms of exclusivity. The Victoria Recreation Club (VRC), founded in 1849 as the Victoria Regatta Club and widely known as the father of sporting clubs in Hong Kong, gradually became multiracial after failing to recruit enough members in the 1870s.14 Built by a 8 Arnold Wright, Twentieth Century Impressions of Hongkong, Shanghai and other Treaty Ports of China (London: Lloyd’s Greater Britain Pub. Co., 1908), 253. 9 ‘Circular,’ Straits Times Overland Journal, 23 November 1869, 7. 10 Eitel, Europe in China, 248. 11 Hong Kong Club, Articles of Association of the Hongkong Club (Hong Kong: Noronha, 1924). 12 Carl T. Smith, ‘The German Speaking Community in Hong Kong, 1846–1918,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 34 (1994), 3; Wright, Twentieth Century Impressions, 171. 13 Ricardo K.S. Mak, ‘Nineteenth-Century German Community,’ in Chu, Foreign Communities in Hong Kong, 74. 14 This was the rate in 1875. ‘Hong Kong, January 2nd, 1875,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 2 January 1875, 2.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

107

prominent Chinese businessman who doubled as a leader of his community, the Aqui’s Theatre accommodated a predominantly Chinese audience but became an entertainment venue for Europeans whenever the Hong Kong Amateurs took the stage.15 The Portuguese amateurs and youth performers played at the Theatro do Sociedade and later the Theatrino Particular to interested spectators from all walks of life but often had a Macanese majority in the audience.16 Charitable institutions made room for a more inclusive associational culture. The Hong Kong branch of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul invited all residents ‘irrespective of creed or nationality, for the better care of the poor and destitute.’ Its first committee included Irish Acting Judge of the Court of Summary Jurisdiction John C. Whyte, H.J. Ball, Rev. Raimondi, one Macanese businessman named João J. dos Remedios, and Leonardo d’Almada e Castro. Remedios and D’Almada jointly served as vice-president of the organization. Women were allowed as benefactresses but generally not accepted as members.17 Joining this lively terrain, the Macanese initially formed two clubs. The earliest was Clube Portuguez, known for housing Hong Kong’s first public library for Portuguese books.18 Little is known of the club, except that it competed with the more youthful Club Lusitano after the latter opened in 1866. The China Mail hinted at ‘unfortunate differences,’ ‘animosity’ and ‘jealousy’ between the two clubs. 19 Macau’s off icial mouthpiece, Boletim Oficial, further revealed that the Governor of this Portuguese

15 Carl T. Smith, ‘The Hong Kong Amateur Dramatic Club and its Predecessors,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 22 (1982), 219–223. 16 The Carl Smith records are used in this book where original sources cannot be traced. ‘Theatrino Particular; Portuguese Theatre,’ 178091, Carl Smith Collection, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 17 Gradually, the association became more Macanese; D’Almada served as president from 1870 to 1875 and between 1863 and 1910. At one point, only three out of the Society’s fourteen committee members were not Macanese men. ‘A Brief Sketch of Fifty Years’ Work of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in Hong Kong,’ 6, 1, VI-07 (Folders 1–2), Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong. 18 Nicholas Belfield Dennys (ed.), The Treaty Ports of China and Japan: A Complete Guide To The Open Ports of Those Countries, Together With Peking, Yedo, Hongkong and Macao (Hong Kong: A. Shortrede And Co., 1867), 15. Aside from Biblioteca Portugueza, there was another library that was set up before Club Lusitano emerged, the Bibliotheca Lusitana, which held over four thousand books. The books from these two libraries, amounting over six thousand, were eventually handed over to Club Lusitano. For this, see J.M. Braga, ‘Typescript Draft Of “The Teaching Of Portuguese In Hong Kong: Some Notes On Its History, c. 1950s,”’ J.M. Braga Papers, MS 4300 5.3/1, 7, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 19 ‘Hong Kong,’ The China Mail, 6 December 1866, 3.

108 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Figure 5  Map of Hong Kong, c. 1865

The map shows Hong Kong’s various associational spaces, which turned the colony into a lively place by 1865 (map courtesy of Hong Kong Historic Maps).

colony had been putting extra effort to talk the two clubs into merging.20 It would take eight years before the Clube Portuguez and Club Lusitano f inally unif ied with a joint committee and the admission of Clube Portuguez’s members into Club Lusitano without ballot and entrance fee. On 3 June 1874, the Daily Press reported the long-awaited amalgamation with the following: The union of the old Portuguese Club with the Lusitano, which, as a matter of social interest to a large portion of the Hongkong community, was earnestly desired by the ex-Governors of Hongkong and Macao, Sir Richard MacDonnell, Sr. Coehlo do Amaral and Sr. Ponte e Horta, has at last been brought about by the endeavours of several liberal and influential members of the old Club who succeeded in dissuading the others from keeping up an opposition to the Lusitano, which had undoubtedly become the central point for the interchange of social and political ideas.21 20 ‘Parte não official,’ (Unofficial Part), O Boletim Do Governo de Macau 12, no. 52, 24 December 1866, 211. 21 ‘The Portuguese Clubs,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 3 June 1874, 2.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

109

The report produced great publicity and it was only f itting since Club Lusitano needed the exposure to gain public recognition as Hong Kong’s representative Portuguese institution. When the sensational laying of the organization’s foundational stone took place in late 1865, club members secured the participation of top government officials. The acting Governor of Hong Kong was present. The Governor of Macau embarked on a longer journey and crossed the waters to Hong Kong. He was given the honors of patting the mortar, made out of a large mass of granite in the form of a cross, before it was lowered into the ground. Four rounds of ‘Viva!’ were then chanted for the Queen of England, the King of Portugal and the two Governors. The guests then headed to tiffin in a 35-foot-wide and 60-footlong space, decorated with the Portuguese ensign and Union Jack to signify Anglo-Portuguese friendship. The local newspaper seemed to have been greatly impressed, reporting, ‘Nothing could have gone better, and the inception of the Lusitanian club will long be remembered with pleasure.’22 On 17 December 1866, Club Lusitano inaugurated with a luxurious banquet and a grand ball at its Salão de Camões (Fig. 6). Being remembered by the public was certainly a rare opportunity for the club’s pioneering members, who usually moved quietly along Hong Kong’s busy streets and toiled as small business owners, clerks and administrative staff for the city’s foreign enterprises. The club’s first directors comprised of a civil servant, two clerks and the owner of a soda water company.23 The platform of Club Lusitano, hence, was crucial in constructing a well-publicized middle-class Portuguese exclusivity that bridged otherwise ordinary Macanese men and women to the social worlds of colonial administrators and the city’s bourgeois communities. Gentlemen’s clubs generally strove for Victorian ideals of English masculinity that boasted politeness, good manners and sociability and a middleclass culture rooted in the collective pursuit of tastes, habits, etiquette and lifestyle of a ‘gentleman.’24 Like many other gentlemen’s clubs, keeping Club 22 ‘The New Portuguese Club,’ Hong Kong Daily Press, 27 December 1865, 3. 23 The Hongkong Directory: With List of Foreign Residents in China (Hong Kong: Armenian Press, 1859), 23, 66, 20; ‘Lusitano Club,’ Carl Smith Collection, 174889, Public Records Office, Hong Kong; ‘J.M.O. Lima,’ Carl Smith Collection, 225353, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 24 John Timbs, Clubs and Club Life in London: With Anecdotes of its Famous Coffee Houses, Hostelries, and Taverns, from the Seventeenth Century to the Present (London: John Camden Hotten, 1872), 2; Valérie Capdeville, ‘Gender at Stake: The Role of Eighteenth-Century London Clubs in Shaping a New Model of English Masculinity,’ Culture, Society & Masculinities 4, no. 1 (2012), 13–16; Barbara Black, A Room of His Own: A Literary-Cultural Study of Victorian Clubland (Athens, Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2012), 28–29.

110 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Figure 6  Club Lusitano Inauguration Ball, c. 1866

Showing members and guests fancily dressed in a lavish setting, this painting of Club Lusitano’s inauguration ball hangs on the twenty-third floor of Club Lusitano today (courtesy of Club Lusitano).

Lusitano a middle-class and masculine public sphere helped in forging a sense of exclusivity and authority over the lower classes.25 Club Lusitano has often been inaccurately portrayed as an association for all Macanese with the chief aim of promoting ‘social, recreative and intellectual intercourse among the members and families of the Portuguese Community.’26 Its selective admission, guarded by a balloting committee composed of directors and ten members from the club’s committee, inevitably fostered 25 For gentlemen’s clubs and the construction of exclusivity, see Jan Hein Furnée, ‘In Good Company: Class, Gender and Politics in the Hague’s Gentlemen’s Clubs,’ in Civil Society, Associations, and Urban Places: Class, Nation and Culture in Nineteenth-Century Europe, ed. Boudien De Vries and Graeme Morton (Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006), 118. 26 Quote from R.C. Hurley, Picturesque Hongkong (British Crown Colony) and Dependencies (Hong Kong: Commercial Press, 1925), 113–114. See also, Ding and Lu, Feiwo zhuyi, 50; Club Lusitano, ‘Club Lusitano: 150 Years of History, 1866–2016 (Hong Kong: Club Lusitano, 2016), 1.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

111

class segregation. Once elected, members paid the entrance fee of $5 and a monthly subscription of $3 to drink in the club’s bar, dine at their restaurant, play in the billiards room and card room, read in the library and stay in the club’s bedrooms.27 As opposed to the usual pattern of being subordinate to European heads in the workplace, members enjoyed the comforts of club space and the service of an international staff, including foreign stewards, Chinese assistants and European chefs.28 The balloting committee had the power to appoint new members, reject ‘unqualif ied’ applications and expel existing members from the club. This usually happened with members who became bankrupt or were charged with a criminal offence. Those who had been dismissed from public service ‘with disgrace’ were similarly ousted from the club. A shocking case of expulsion took place in 1882 when the Club Lusitano committee voted, with thirty-five votes against eleven and nine abstentions, to retract the club membership of the Portuguese Consul General of Hong Kong. This came after Consul José da Silva Loureiro commented on a court case concerning two Macanese men who got into a spat after one of them used the word malcriado (rude) against the other. Loureiro explained in a court hearing, It may be translated as ill bred, but in that sense it could not refer to men, but to the lower animals […] I claim to have a good knowledge of the Portuguese language—as good as any one in the colony. The majority of Portuguese here, so-called, are badly educated, and do not speak the Portuguese language, but only the local patois. They may repeat some words like a parrot, but they would not understand them. Though the Portuguese here might be badly educated, they could not imagine the words [sic] ‘mal criado’ to be of a very insulting character, as it is in such common use in every household.29

His reference to the Macanese as uneducated caused an uproar. Loureiro had insulted not only members of Club Lusitano but also the entire Macanese community. After the statement emerged in local newspapers, Macanese 27 Club Lusitano, Bye-laws of the Club Lusitano, Limited (Hong Kong: L. Noronha, 1904), 1, 3–4; 17–19; 14. 28 Names of staff were extracted from news reports and Carl Smith’s records. See, for instance, ‘Assault at the Club Lusitano,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 28 October 1868; ‘Tam A-ting; Club Lusitano,’ Carl Smith Collection, 41672, Public Records Office, Hong Kong; ‘Dunn, Thomas Duncan,’ Carl Smith Collection, 96565, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 29 ‘The Fracas At The Roman Catholic Cathedral,’ Hong Kong Daily Press, 11 July 1882, 2.

112 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

residents of Hong Kong and Macau rushed to express their support to Club Lusitano.30 When some members proposed reinstating Loureiro’s membership a few months later, the suggestion was ‘received with shouts and hisses, and was not even put to the vote.’31 The Consul General filed a court case against Club Lusitano but the magistrate decided to dismiss Loureiro’s petition, as there were no grounds for further action.32 To this final draw, the Hongkong Telegraph rejoiced, writing ‘And so ends the celebrated “Malcriado” episode.’33 The Consul General continued his position until late 1883 after which he was transferred to Yokohama.34 Blurring the lines that separated the private and the public spheres, gentlemen’s clubs often acted as an escape from real life. It provided men with a private space for social meetings. It was also a site that substituted, for actual homes, entertaining high-profile guests, with an alternative domesticity dominated by men.35 Strict rules were thus enforced to regulate the behavior of club members. Some of Club Lusitano’s rules, printed in its pamphlet of bylaws, read, No dogs shall on any account be brought within the precincts of The Club; No musical instrument shall be played in the premises of The Club without the consent of the Directors; Singing or whistling in an annoying way shall not be allowed in any part of the Club House; No Member shall appear in any public room of the Club in dressing gown, slippers or deshabille;

30 ‘Local And General,’ The China Mail, 29 July 1882, 2; ‘Hong Kong, Wednesday, August 2 1882,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 2 August 1882, 2. 31 ‘Local And General,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 15 August 1882, 2. 32 ‘Hong Kong, Saturday, September 8, 1883,’ Hong Kong Telegraph, 8 September 1883, 3; ‘Before The Hon. Sir George Phillippo, Chief Justice: Loureiro v. The Club Lusitano,’ Hong Kong Daily Press, 8 September 1883, 2. 33 ‘Local And General,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 7 September 1883, 3. 34 ‘Local And General,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 8 December 1883, 3. 35 Mike Huggins, ‘More Sinful Pleasures? Leisure, Respectability and the Male Middle Classes in Victorian England,’ Journal of Social History 33 (2000), 585–600; Venetia Murray, High Society: A Social History of the Regency Period 1788–1830 (London: Viking, 1998), 158; Amy Milne-Smith, ‘A Flight to Domesticity? Making a Home in the Gentlemen’s Clubs of London, 1880–1914,’ Journal of British Studies 45, no. 4 (2006), 796–818; Annmarie Adams, ‘The Place of Manliness: Architecture, Domesticity and Men’s Clubs,’ in Making Men, Making History: Canadian Masculinities across Time and Place, ed. Peter Gossage and Robert Rutherdale (Vancouver: UBC Press, 2018), 109–131; Valérie Capdeville, ‘The Ambivalent Identity of Eighteenth-Century London Clubs as a Prelude to Victorian Clublife,’ Cahiers victoriens et édouardiens 81 (2015).

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

113

Refreshments […] will only be served to Members at the Bar, Billiard Room, Card Room and Dining Room and nowhere else.

Different club spaces came with a distinct set of rules. In the billiard room, members were asked to keep one foot on the floor and to never get on the table to make a stroke. Gambling was not allowed in the card room while visitors in guestrooms could not send out the club’s staff except to carry a message or deliver a letter.36 Gentlemen’s clubs promoted racial, class and gender exclusivity, yet they always left openings through sports, entertainment and philanthropy for the public to look in from the outside.37 One of Club Lusitano’s earliest initiatives was to partake in Hong Kong’s horseracing events, which were then considered a symbol of middle- and upper-class privilege.38 A local press accurately observed it as an activity ‘merely to gratify the ridiculous love of show that wealth always wallow[ed] in.’39 The Hongkong Club was responsible for the founding and administration of the colony’s horseracing. 40 Residents from the lower classes usually participated as spectators whereas members from reputable associations were allowed into the grandstand as long as they offered prizes to winning ponies. Before Club Lusitano officially inaugurated, its founding members considered building a grandstand for the Portuguese in 1864. The idea was favorably entertained by the Surveyor General’s office and the racing committee toyed around with the possibility of collaborating with Club Lusitano in constructing a large grandstand for the colony. Macanese residents, however, did not support the initiative. One wrote to the Hongkong Daily Press, expressing concerns that the investment would not only leave the 36 Bye-laws of the Club Lusitano, 10–11, 13–16. 37 See, for instance, Nancy B. Bouchier, ‘Idealized Middle-Class Sport for a Young Nation: Lacrosse in Nineteenth-Century Ontario Towns, 1871–1891,’ Journal of Canadian Studies 29, no. 2 (1994), 89–110; David Robbins, ‘Sport, Hegemony and the Middle Class: The Victorian Mountaineers,’ Theory, Culture & Society 4, no. 4 (1987), 579–601; Neil Jun Keong Khor and Keat Siew Khoo, The Penang Po Leung Kuk, Chinese Women, Prostitution and a Welfare Organisation (Kuala Lumpur: The Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 2004); Sinn, Power and Charity. 38 John Pinfold, ‘Horse Racing and the Upper Classes in the Nineteenth Century,’ Sports in History 28, no. 3 (2008), 414–430; Mike Huggins, ‘Culture, Class and Respectability: Racing and the Middle Classes in the Nineteenth Century,’ International Journal of Social History 33, no. 1 (2000), 585–600. 39 ‘A Lover of Sport,’ The Friend of China and Hongkong Gazette, 18 January 1851. 40 Vaudine England, Kindred Spirits: A History of the Hong Kong Club (Hong Kong: Moonchild Production Co., 2016), 11–12.

114 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

club in debt, but also lead to unnecessary conflict caused by collaboration with other communities. In addition to this, Macanese residents foresaw Club Lusitano’s involvement in the racing committee as a step that would ‘segregate the upper class of Portuguese from the lower,’ advising instead to build a grandstand for the Portuguese to promote communal reunion ‘without embarrassment or interference.’41 The plan did not push through but representative members of Club Lusitano still made it to the grandstand by offering the Lusitanian Cup (also the Lusitano Cup) in 1867, open to all horses valued at two hundred guineas. 42 On race days, they stood as equals next to top government officials, prominent businessmen, Hongkong Club members and prize presenters from the German, Parsee and American communities. 43 Another space that showcased the club’s middle-class culture took shape in the Lusitano Theatre. From the local amateurs to Turkish magic shows and Donizetti opera productions, the theater welcomed the public as long as they paid for admission. 44 A typical foreign production, however, was not meant for the working classes. In 1868, one paid $18 to enjoy Lucia di Lammermoor from boxes for six, or $3 to watch in less comfortable and often crowded stalls.45 A middle-ranking Macanese clerk during this period earned an average monthly income of $80, much of which went on settling bills, buying daily necessities and feeding family members. 46 Hence, an ordinary worker would have had to save up for months to see a performance. This was perhaps why theatergoers were expected to observe particular manners while inside the Lusitano Theatre. In 1870, a couple of young British men attending a Tuesday evening show were chastised in a local newspaper for interrupting a show with noise and untimely clapping. One resident informed the press that these young men had forgotten ‘the first principles of good breeding, and the first dictates of good taste’ and criticized such behavior as ‘ungentlemanly towards a male performer, and in the highest degree unmanly when indulged towards one of the weaker sex.’47 Another audience member, claiming to have visited theaters around the world, observed that 41 A, ‘Hongkong, 29 September 1864, Hongkong Daily Press, 29 September 1864, 2. 42 ‘Hongkong Races 1867, First Day,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 20 February 1867. 43 Austin Coates, China Races (Hong Kong, Oxford University Press, 1984), 71. 44 ‘Club Lusitano Theatre,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 7 March 1868, 1; ‘Lusitano Theatre, Grand Opera,’ The China Mail, 10 March 1868, 1; Smith, ‘The Hong Kong Amateur Dramatic Club,’ 224; ‘The 75m Amateurs and the Lusitano Theatre,’ The China Mail, 22 May 1869, 5. 45 ‘Lusitano Theatre, Grand Opera,’ The China Mail, 10 March 1868, 1. 46 ‘Hong Kong, August 10, 1865,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 10 August 1865, 2. 47 ‘Hong Kong, March 10,1870,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 10 March 1870, 2.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

115

theater spectators were usually from the ‘educated class’ but Hong Kong’s audience had failed to display order, dignity and ‘gentlemanly breeding’ in this public space.48 Much to the regret of Hong Kong residents, the Lusitano Theatre was taken down in the early 1870s and replaced by the City Hall’s Theatre Royal. The curtains came down one last time in June 1873 after a performance from the Portuguese amateurs, drawing an end to the theater’s service to the public and to Club Lusitano. There is no better way to effectively achieve prestige and gain social recognition than to engage in charity, as proved by the transnational Chinese institution of Po Leung Kuk, which offered overseas Chinese altruistic spaces to gain political influence and the establishment of Santa Casa de Misericórdia across Portugal’s colonies that allowed Luso-descendants to consolidate oligarchies in a more subtle manner. Through philanthropy, aspiring groups and individuals transformed economic power to symbolic power until they could legitimize their social standing. 49 Club Lusitano bolstered its local and foreign presence by taking up a leadership role in Macanese charity. In 1874, the club was quick to respond to a disastrous typhoon and a fire that hit Macau. Its committee formed a relief fund that centralized Hong Kong’s efforts in assisting the people of Macau. Club Lusitano initially collected $1,000 from an ad hoc meeting with resident members and other Macanese representatives from Shanghai. After the meeting, the Shanghai representatives agreed to solicit contributions from Shanghai’s Macanese community while Hong Kong’s Portuguese amateur dramatic club donated proceeds from their performances to Club Lusitano’s relief fund.50 In addition to responding to Macanese affairs, Club Lusitano actively supported the Hong Kong government’s philanthropic efforts. During the late seventies, the club contributed $660 to the government’s relief fund for the Irish famine.51 Such charitable acts helped to elevate 48 Cosmopolite, ‘The Lusitano Audience,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 10 March 1870, 2. 49 See, for instance, Peter Shapely, Charity and Power in Victorian Manchester (Manchester: The Chetham Society, 2000), 74–75. For the Straits Settlement, Hong Kong and Macau, see Khor and Khoo, The Penang Po Leung Kuk; Sinn, Power and Charity; Dos Guimarães Sá, ‘Ganhos da terra’; De Sousa, ‘Orfandade feminina.’ See also, Gareth Steadman Jones, Outcast London: A Study in the Relationship between Classes in Victorian Society (London: Verso, 2013), 251–253; William T. Harbaugh, ‘What Do Donations Buy? A Model of Philanthropy based on Prestige and Warm Glow,’ Journal of Public Economics 67(1998), 269–284; Sandra Cavallo, Charity and Power in Early Modern Italy: Benefactors and Their Motives in Turin, 1541–1789 (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995), 129; B.J. Gleeson, ‘A Public Sphere for Women: The Case of Charity in Colonial Melbourne,’ Area 27, no. 3 (1995), 193–207. 50 ‘Hongkong,’ North China Herald, 15 October 1874, 370. 51 ‘Hongkong,’ North China Herald, 10 April 1880, 309.

116 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Club Lusitano’s leadership role in Hong Kong, particularly through word of mouth and newspaper reports in the local and foreign press. Within a decade, Club Lusitano evolved from a new Portuguese club to the largest Portuguese institution in Hong Kong. This, however, did not come without its challenges. During the 1870s, it went through a storm of financial difficulties. In 1875, a notice appeared on the Hongkong Government Gazette informing the public of the club’s dissolution and its intentions to sell its premises and furniture.52 Club Lusitano eventually underwent reorganization but it survived the ordeal. In 1876, the club and its liquidators’ names were listed in the Chronicle & Directory with a note that it was in ‘reconstruction.’53 In the following year, a new committee had taken over the club and it soon reopened to members and guests.54 By the late 1870s, Club Lusitano was no longer just a Portuguese association. Thanks to its charitable activities, the Macanese communities of Hong Kong, Macau and Shanghai knew it as a prestigious Portuguese club for middle-class Macanese men. Through the Lusitanian Cup, the middle-class institutions of other ethnic communities accepted Club Lusitano into Hong Kong’s bourgeois social world. For its increasing visibility and leadership role in the colony’s Portuguese affairs, the Macau government and the British colonial administration perceived Club Lusitano as the official representative body of the Macanese in Hong Kong.

Abraço fraternal (fraternal embrace) and Camões For many diasporic communities, associational worlds provided a space to forge new cultural and political links to the motherland. The SCBA and the Chinese Philomantic Society, for instance, discussed China’s political issues and called for reforms within the borders of the Straits Settlement. Some Straits Chinese elites straddled two worlds, crossing over to mainland Chinese affairs while maintaining a grip over local issues. Near the collapse of the Manchu regime, some went as far as supporting Sun Yat-sen by joining his underground society.55 Penang-born Lim Boon-keng was a prime example 52 ‘For Sale,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 23 October 1875, 436. 53 These members were M.C. do Rozario, J.M.O. Lima, J.P. da Costa, L. de Carvalho, J.A. dos Remedios, H. Hyndman. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan, & The Philippines for the Year 1876 (Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1877), 102. 54 The new president was A.G. Romano. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan, & The Philippines for the Year 1877 (Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1878), 194. 55 Frost, ‘Transcultural Diaspora,’ 29–30, 32.

116 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Club Lusitano’s leadership role in Hong Kong, particularly through word of mouth and newspaper reports in the local and foreign press. Within a decade, Club Lusitano evolved from a new Portuguese club to the largest Portuguese institution in Hong Kong. This, however, did not come without its challenges. During the 1870s, it went through a storm of financial difficulties. In 1875, a notice appeared on the Hongkong Government Gazette informing the public of the club’s dissolution and its intentions to sell its premises and furniture.52 Club Lusitano eventually underwent reorganization but it survived the ordeal. In 1876, the club and its liquidators’ names were listed in the Chronicle & Directory with a note that it was in ‘reconstruction.’53 In the following year, a new committee had taken over the club and it soon reopened to members and guests.54 By the late 1870s, Club Lusitano was no longer just a Portuguese association. Thanks to its charitable activities, the Macanese communities of Hong Kong, Macau and Shanghai knew it as a prestigious Portuguese club for middle-class Macanese men. Through the Lusitanian Cup, the middle-class institutions of other ethnic communities accepted Club Lusitano into Hong Kong’s bourgeois social world. For its increasing visibility and leadership role in the colony’s Portuguese affairs, the Macau government and the British colonial administration perceived Club Lusitano as the official representative body of the Macanese in Hong Kong.

Abraço fraternal (fraternal embrace) and Camões For many diasporic communities, associational worlds provided a space to forge new cultural and political links to the motherland. The SCBA and the Chinese Philomantic Society, for instance, discussed China’s political issues and called for reforms within the borders of the Straits Settlement. Some Straits Chinese elites straddled two worlds, crossing over to mainland Chinese affairs while maintaining a grip over local issues. Near the collapse of the Manchu regime, some went as far as supporting Sun Yat-sen by joining his underground society.55 Penang-born Lim Boon-keng was a prime example 52 ‘For Sale,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 23 October 1875, 436. 53 These members were M.C. do Rozario, J.M.O. Lima, J.P. da Costa, L. de Carvalho, J.A. dos Remedios, H. Hyndman. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan, & The Philippines for the Year 1876 (Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1877), 102. 54 The new president was A.G. Romano. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan, & The Philippines for the Year 1877 (Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1878), 194. 55 Frost, ‘Transcultural Diaspora,’ 29–30, 32.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

117

of overseas Chinese figures that tactically fostered a presence in both worlds. He was member of the British Legislative Council in Singapore yet he also served as Sun Yat-sen’s personal physician and eventually became president of the Xiamen University.56 Like the Straits Chinese, the Macanese used Club Lusitano to establish their connection to Portugal. Though unlike the Straits Chinese and Peranakans’ actual support to political developments in China, the Macanese created primarily cultural links to the fatherland by adopting Portuguese culture and closely mirroring celebrations and events in the metropole for the purpose of constructing social prominence in the British colony. To be recognized as leaders of the ‘Portuguese,’ Club Lusitano needed to showcase its Portugueseness to the public. Within its premises, the club’s library, Bibliotecha Lusitana, housed over ten thousand books on Portuguese history and literature.57 Every year, Club Lusitano celebrated the King’s birthday by professing the community’s loyalty to Portugal. In 1868, this was done with a performance from the Portuguese amateurs entitled Um drama no mar (A drama on the sea) at the Lusitano Theatre. With a seventeenth-century setting, the amateurs told the story of Portugal’s victory in two wars, one against the Dutch on the Brazilian coast and the other against Spaniards in Portugal. The local press described the production as ‘so excessively patriotic that a more appropriate selection could not have been made for the occasion.’58 In 1879, the club illuminated its façade and hung a portrait of King Dom Luiz I by its entrance to celebrate his birthday.59 Year after year, it continued to hold annual celebrations that echoed the metropole’s. On 10 June 1880, Club Lusitano organized its biggest event of the nineteenth century. The club responded to an initiative to celebrate the tercentenary of the death of Portuguese poet Luís de Camões, which was started in Lisbon by Portuguese historian Joaquim de Vasconcelos and led by Republican supporter Teófilo Braga as a ‘festival of the nation.’60 While the event was aimed at encouraging Portuguese solidarity and patriotism, it also served as an attempt for positivists and Republicans to call for support through advocating social and scientific progress. The idea was to create a momentum for change by evoking a collective nostalgia towards the heyday 56 Doran, ‘The Chinese Origins of Democracy,’ 48. 57 Wright, Twentieth Century Impressions of Hongkong, 172. 58 ‘The Amateurs At The Lusitano,’ The China Mail, 2 November 1868, 4. 59 ‘Local and General,’ The China Mail, 30 October 1879, 2. 60 Giselle Martins Venâcio, ‘Commemorate Camões and Rethink the Nation: Joaquim Nabuco’s Speech during the Celebration of the Tercentenary of the Death of Camões in Rio de Janeiro (1880),’ Revista Brasileira de Hístoria 33, no. 65 (2013).

118 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

of the Portuguese empire.61 To achieve this, the Republicans reinvented the image of Camões as a reminder of Portugal’s ‘mythical greatness’; this was enthusiastically received across Portugal’s overseas territories.62 In Rio de Janeiro, the government appointed Brazilian writer and abolitionist Joaquim Nabuco in charge, with the intention of controlling a growing Brazilian consciousness and uniting the Brazilians and the Portuguese in the colony. In a speech presented during the celebration, Nabuco delivered by claiming to be Brazilian but simultaneously emphasizing, ‘Tonight I am Portuguese.’63 In Asia, Macau’s Macanese community refrained from celebrating, likely due to their conventional political orientation. One of Club Lusitano’s co-founders, José Luíz de Selavisa Alves, initiated Hong Kong’s event by setting up an ad hoc committee of ten Club Lusitano members.64 Two members of the committee, Lourenço Pereira Marques and Policarpo da Costa, supported the Republican cause but chose to channel their sympathy into an advocacy of scientific and educational progress.65 Thus, Hong Kong’s adaptation of the tercentenary commemoration echoed the metropole’s call for patriotism, but it was more a public move to forge Club Lusitano’s connection to Portugal than a strong political call for Republican support. On the evening of the celebration, over two hundred and fifty men and fifty women arrived at the club to find a veiled Camões bust by the front door. The bust was perched on a half-concealed pedestal, surrounded by flowers and an opened copy of the poet’s work, Os Lusíadas. A white silk with 61 Filipe Ribeiro De Meneses, ‘Camões, Portuguese War Propaganda, and the Dream of a Safe Colonial Empire, 1914–1918,’ NUI Maynooth Papers in Spanish, Portuguese and Latin America Studies 12 (2005), 1; Alan Freeland, ‘The People and the Poet: Portuguese National Identity and the Camões Tercentenary (1880),’ in Nationalism and the National in the Iberian Peninsula: Competing and Conflicting Identities, ed. Clare Mar-Molinero and Angel Smith (Oxford: Berg, 1996), 65. See also, Alexandre Cabral, Notas Oitocentistas—I (1880 Notes) (Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1980), 63. 62 Maria Isabel João, ‘Public Memory and Power in Portugal (1880–1960),’ trans. Landeg White, Portuguese Studies 18 (2002), 114–115. 63 Venâcio, ‘Commemorate Camões.’ 64 These were José Luíz de Selavisa Alves (civil servant), João Miguel Sebastião (civil servant), Marcos Antonio de Carvalho (owner of Craigengower, private residence on Caine Road), José Philippe da Costa (owner, Hong Kong Soda Water Company), Luciano Fortunato de Carvalho (civil servant), Policarpo Antonio da Costa (secretary, Hong Kong, Canton and Macao Steamboat Co.), Carlos Danenberg (assistant to foreign architect), José Antonio dos Remedios (clerk, HSBC), Jeronimo Miguel dos Remedios (clerk, JJ dos Remedios), Marcos Calixto do Rozario (businessman and co-owner of Delmar). Club Lusitano, Memoria dos festejos celebrados em Hongkong por occasião do tricentenario do principe dos poetas Portuguezes Luiz de Camões (Memorial of the Festivities Celebrated in Hong Kong On The Occasion of the Tercentenary of the Prince of Portuguese Poets Luiz de Camões) (Hong Kong: Na Typographia de De Souza e Ca., 1880), 1. 65 Morais, ‘Darwinism, Freemasonry,’ 62.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

119

gold writing hang over the display with the poet’s words, Ditosa Pátria que tal filho teve, which translates as ‘happy homeland such a son had.’ Behind the bust stood a grand display of Portugal’s coat of arms and the flags of Portugal and Brazil, with a couplet featuring lines from Camões’s poems suspended at the very back of the room. Proceeding into the club, a statue of King Dom Pedro V, donated by an old member of the Macanese community, stood inside the room. As the clock struck ten past nine, Governor John Pope Hennessy arrived, with the company of the Captain of the Volunteer Corps J.J. Francis and Chief Justice Edward O’Malley. Hong Kong’s Consul Generals for Portugal, Brazil and the United States and Macau’s Consul General for Brazil were also in attendance. Other guests included prominent British businessman William Keswick, Scottish tea merchant Phineas Ryrie, Jewish businessman Emanuel Belilios, Indian businessman D. Ruttunjee and the first Chinese unofficial member of the Legislative Council, Ng Choy. Other foreign professionals, doctors and the editors of Daily Press and China Mail arrived to join the directors and committee members of Club Lusitano in unveiling a festive night of speeches and performances. Portuguese culture, highlighted through music, literature and appreciation for Camões, was showcased throughout the evening. The band of a Brazilian ship, having coincidentally stopped by Hong Kong on its way to Peking, came to give a splendid performance. Policarpo da Costa presented the inaugural address. He referred to the event as a ‘literary festival’ that was meant to inform ‘our brethren who in Europe, Africa and America commemorate this day, that the sentiments which animate them, flow also from Lusian hearts in the confines of Asia under the shield of a foreign but friendly flag.’66 Da Costa took the opportunity to subtly show his support to the Republican movement by criticizing the monarchy for neglecting the Macanese, saying, Portugal ignores that we are a living monument of her past greatness, that we are the descendants of those who accompanied the heroes of epic song to those remote regions! Macao and her children scattered along the shores of China and Japan, these are the only vestiges of ancient Lusitanian preponderance in these seas! And yet Portugal denies us even a college for the study of the national language and history! […] Those who earn a living by their daily toil must educate their children in this Colony, where there is not a single Portuguese educational institution.

66 Club Lusitano, Memoria dos festejos, 5, 10–11, 52, 88.

120 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

He also took the opportunity to emphasize the Macanese community’s allegiance to the British government as he praised: The English people will not deny us their moral quasi-obligation to aid and protect us, because our forefathers opened to them the gates of the Orient, and taught them the first lessons in maritime commerce and colonisation, sources of the present prosperity of their country.

Looking ahead, Da Costa expressed his expectations of cooperation between the Portuguese King and ‘the friend of the cause of education,’ Governor Hennessy. The speech concluded with another emphasis on the Club’s desire to facilitate Portuguese literary progress and instill ‘patriotic fervour’ within the colony’s Macanese youth. The president of the club, João António dos Remedios, echoed Da Costa. He maintained that the main aim of the celebration was ‘to impress on the Portuguese people here love for their country and to induce the Portuguese youths to cultivate their minds by the study of their national history.’ Affirming Club Lusitano’s leadership role in Hong Kong, Governor Hennessy thanked the organizing committee for the unprecedented gathering of residents from different communities for a ‘festival of literature.’ This was followed by a speech on the importance of the Portuguese language, poem recitals and the official unveiling of the bust of Camões. Drawing the festival to an end, Club Lusitano sent a telegram of congratulations to the commission in Lisbon. On the next day, its members were thrilled to see a reply from Lisbon carrying the message, ‘abraço fraternal pela unanimidade na glorificaçao de Camões, symbolo da Nação Portugueza’ (fraternal embrace by unanimity in the glorification of Camões, symbol of the Portuguese Nation).67 The local newspapers informed the public about Club Lusitano’s successful event. Hongkong Daily Press printed an extensive three-column report, recording every minute detail of the evening’s program. The newspaper wrote that Club Lusitano was decorated in a manner that ‘called forth the admiration from all present’ and applauded its hospitality, which was ‘with the courtesy characteristic of their nationality.’ Echoing Governor Hennessy’s claim, the Daily Press agreed that the representatives of Club Lusitano were ‘principal’ members of Hong Kong’s Macanese community.68 Without doubt, the publicity of the event successfully fostered Club Lusitano’s ‘Portugueseness’ in the public eye while the attendance of 67 Club Lusitano, Memoria dos festejos, 91, 94, 53, 52, 10, 57. 68 ‘Tercentenary of the Poet Camoens,’ Hong Kong Daily Press, 12 June 1880, 2.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

121

prominent officials and businessmen helped to establish the club’s footing as a representative institution of the Macanese in British Hong Kong. In the decades that followed, the club continued to serve as the leading Portuguese association in the colony, hosting diplomats from other Portuguese territories and making sure visitors were generously treated with feasts, champagne, Scotch and a lot of dancing.69 Humans are highly versatile, particularly when it comes to realizing ambitions and achieving aspirations. Sometimes, it took collaborative efforts to make things happen. Using Hong Kong’s urban space and adopting British club culture, the Macanese at Club Lusitano constructed their new status as prominent leaders of their people in less than two decades. The proceedings of the tercentenary commemoration bring out Hong Kong’s role in the manufacture of a unique strand of Portugueseness that was shaped by the colony’s urban space and social developments. For one thing, living in Hong Kong allowed the Macanese to hold a pro-Republican activity without objection from the Macau government. This further helped to establish Club Lusitano’s independent foothold as a profoundly Portuguese institution in southern China. With the space and liberty to build a unique Portugueseness that benefitted its members, the middle-class Macanese were able to create a presence beyond their roots in Macau. Keeping the celebration culture-oriented, they chose to showcase the club’s splendor and drew on selective markers of Portuguese culture in simultaneously legitimizing the Portuguese identities of its members and affirming their loyalty to the Hong Kong administration. Policarpo da Costa gingerly criticized the metropole for neglecting the education of its overseas subjects but praised Governor Hennessy for his efforts in promoting education. Speaking for the Macanese and for the pátria, Da Costa further proposed a closer relationship between the King of Portugal and the Hong Kong Governor. The event was certainly a successful and memorable one for Club Lusitano. Overnight, they won the approval of the Hong Kong administration and the local press. Receiving a telegram from the Lisbon commission was certainly a rare moment for a community long forgotten by the metropole.

A stage for middle-class Macanese men As social spaces for relaxation, mingling and recreation, clubs tacitly provided aspiring middle-class individuals with opportunities to be seen 69 De Sá, The Boys From Macau, 85; ‘Reception At Club Lusitano: Brazilian Naval Off icers Entertained,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 10 August 1908, 4.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

121

prominent officials and businessmen helped to establish the club’s footing as a representative institution of the Macanese in British Hong Kong. In the decades that followed, the club continued to serve as the leading Portuguese association in the colony, hosting diplomats from other Portuguese territories and making sure visitors were generously treated with feasts, champagne, Scotch and a lot of dancing.69 Humans are highly versatile, particularly when it comes to realizing ambitions and achieving aspirations. Sometimes, it took collaborative efforts to make things happen. Using Hong Kong’s urban space and adopting British club culture, the Macanese at Club Lusitano constructed their new status as prominent leaders of their people in less than two decades. The proceedings of the tercentenary commemoration bring out Hong Kong’s role in the manufacture of a unique strand of Portugueseness that was shaped by the colony’s urban space and social developments. For one thing, living in Hong Kong allowed the Macanese to hold a pro-Republican activity without objection from the Macau government. This further helped to establish Club Lusitano’s independent foothold as a profoundly Portuguese institution in southern China. With the space and liberty to build a unique Portugueseness that benefitted its members, the middle-class Macanese were able to create a presence beyond their roots in Macau. Keeping the celebration culture-oriented, they chose to showcase the club’s splendor and drew on selective markers of Portuguese culture in simultaneously legitimizing the Portuguese identities of its members and affirming their loyalty to the Hong Kong administration. Policarpo da Costa gingerly criticized the metropole for neglecting the education of its overseas subjects but praised Governor Hennessy for his efforts in promoting education. Speaking for the Macanese and for the pátria, Da Costa further proposed a closer relationship between the King of Portugal and the Hong Kong Governor. The event was certainly a successful and memorable one for Club Lusitano. Overnight, they won the approval of the Hong Kong administration and the local press. Receiving a telegram from the Lisbon commission was certainly a rare moment for a community long forgotten by the metropole.

A stage for middle-class Macanese men As social spaces for relaxation, mingling and recreation, clubs tacitly provided aspiring middle-class individuals with opportunities to be seen 69 De Sá, The Boys From Macau, 85; ‘Reception At Club Lusitano: Brazilian Naval Off icers Entertained,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 10 August 1908, 4.

122 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

and recognized by the public. For a number of Macanese men, taking up important positions in Club Lusitano not only added zest to their lives but also provided stepping-stones to establish social prominence. Two men, Delfino Noronha and João António Barretto, helped establish Club Lusitano by providing for three quarters of its total construction costs.70 At the age of twenty, Noronha moved to Hong Kong and started a printing business.71 He then competed with two other printers in the colony, but eventually surpassed them in becoming the government’s official printer in 1859.72 Throughout his life, Noronha kept a low profile and remained loyal to the British colonial government. While his competitors ran newspapers and got into hot water for criticizing the government, Noronha stayed away from controversy.73 In 1884, he agreed to reduce printing charges after the Hong Kong administration cut down its printing budget. The move was, quoting Noronha, ‘for my credit and that of my establishment, which has carried on the Government printing now for about 24 years.’74 By the late nineteenth century, Noronha’s humble printing business had expanded into a family-run printing empire that operated in the neighboring port-cities of Macau (Noronha e Companhia) and Shanghai (Noronha & Sons).75 In addition to his successful printing company, Noronha invested heavily in real estate, becoming one of the first men in Hong Kong to buy plots across the harbor in the underdeveloped Kowloon. Records show Noronha engaging in business deals with Macanese, Chinese and European businessmen, including Chinese elites Tam Achoy (譚才) and Ho Asik (何錫) and Edward

70 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. I, 1st ed., 411. 71 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 166. 72 ‘Memorandum of Agreement between H.E. Sir Hercules Robinson (originally H.E. Sir Bowring), Governor of Hong Kong, and Delfino Noronha (originally Andrew Shortede): on Matters of Printing Government Gazette and Other Documents (Originally 28/6/1855),’ 10 December 1859, HKRS 149-2/133; ‘Memo: of Agreement for Printing, H.E. The Governor and D. Noronha, Printer,’ 10 December 1859, HKRS 149-2/216,’ Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 73 Noronha’s first competitor, Andrew Shortrede, got caught in a libel case for reports made on The China Mail. The Hongkong Register’s printer received a printing contract with the government, but this was quickly terminated as the newspaper was, quoting Frank King, ‘anti-government.’ For these, see ‘Memorial of Andrew Shortrede to The Duke of Newcastle,’ 21 July 1853, CO 129/30, 264–265, The National Archives, London; King and Clarke, A Research Guide, 22. 74 ‘Delfino Noronha to W.H. March, Colonial Secretary,’ 9 April 1883, HKRS 149-2/3782, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 75 Directory and Chronicle for China, Japan, Corea, Indo-China, Straits Settlements, Malay States, Siam, Netherlands India, Borneo, the Philippines, 1908 (Hong Kong: Hongkong Daily Press, 1908), 1089; Wong, ‘Interport Printing Enterprise,’ 144.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

123

Beast, secretary of the Hongkong Club.76 He owned a country home in Kowloon named ‘Delmar’ and ran an irregular ferry service to and from Hong Kong Island. After Noronha sold the service to a Parsee businessman, this turned into the iconic Star Ferry, the colony’s main source of transport to Kowloon and back. Noronha’s wealth and vast network offers us a glimpse into the life of a middle-class Macanese. However, his was a unique case because Noronha chose mostly to keep away from the limelight despite his crucial financial support to Club Lusitano.77 He rarely showed up in press reports and did not take part in the club’s committee. In contrast, João António Barretto evolved into a leader of the Macanese community after serving as the club’s first president. Prior to his public role, Barretto moved from Macau to Hong Kong in the 1840s and as seen in Chapter One, worked as a bookkeeper for Jardine, Matheson & Co. Outside the confines of the workspace, Barretto invested in real estate, trading with Macanese and British businessmen.78 Like Noronha, he owned a large bungalow in Kowloon.79 In 1866, Barretto became the first president of Club Lusitano. Working at Jardine’s in the daytime and serving the club in his spare time, he became heavily involved in the club’s activities and events. Thanks to his new role, ‘J.A. Barretto’ evolved into a household name amongst frequent newspaper readers and within the Macanese community. Furthermore, the Hong Kong administration acknowledged his service to his people with official appointments. On 10 August 1877, The Hongkong Government Gazette notified the public that ‘His Excellency the Governor has been pleased to recognize provisionally and until further notice, João Antonio Barretto, Esquire, as Consul for Portugal at this Port.’80 The members of Club Lusitano honored his service by building a life-sized statue of Barretto in the club’s hall. The statue seems not to have survived. The local press revealed that the club removed Barretto’s statue after it became free from debt in the late 1870s and nobody in the club today knows 76 ‘Delfino Noronha; Noronha and Sons,’ 236836, Carl Smith Collection; ‘Delfino Noronha,’ 236811; 236812, Carl Smith Collection; ‘Delfino Noronha,’ 236831, Carl Smith Collection, Public Records Office, Hong Kong; ‘Delfino Noronha,’ Carl Smith Collection, 236823, Public Records Off ice, Hong Kong; ‘Delf ino Noronha,’ 236813, Carl Smith Collection, Public Records Off ice, Hong Kong. 77 Noronha continued to help maintain the club after its establishment. In 1867, the Club mortgaged a part of its property to Noronha for $20,000, an amount he eventually reassigned to the organization in 1873 during a financial crisis. Club Lusitano de Hongkong Ltd,’ Carl Smith Collection, 174861; 174879, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 78 ‘Barretto Joao Antonio,’ Carl Smith Collection, 197888, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 79 ‘Joao Antonio Barretto,’ Carl Smith Collection, 197889, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 80 ‘Hong Kong, 26 November 1881,’ Hongkong Telegraph, 26 November 1881, 2.

124 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

of its existence. Barretto left for the Philippines in the late 1870s to try his luck on tobacco plantations. He died in 1881 in Zambales, Luzon and was remembered by The Hongkong Telegraph in a memorial as ‘one of the oldest residents of this Colony.’ The report read, Mr. Barretto was for a long period book-keeper to Messrs. Jardine Matheson & Co. and afterwards acted for some time as Portuguese Consul at this port. His name was closely associated with the establishment of the Club Lusitano in this Colony, in fact, he may be said to have been the prime mover in the foundation of that institution as he advanced no less than three-fourths of the money necessary for its establishment […] Mr. Barretto was a very generous and warm-hearted gentleman, who was deservedly held in high esteem by his countrymen in Hongkong.81

As a cornerstone for elevating one’s public presence, Club Lusitano offered middle-class Macanese men a platform to consolidate their authority over communal affairs. Club space also offered ordinary men working in subordinate positions the chance to claim bourgeois status by taking part in formal events and socializing with government officials and middle-class members of other communities. The pioneering directors of the Club were predominantly clerks and small business owners. They were civil servant José Maria d’Almada e Castro, clerks Luiz J. da Silva and A.B. da Roza and owner of a soda company Joze Filippe da Costa.82 Scanning through the names of Club Lusitano’s members in 1866 reminds us that middle-class men and women who worked ordinary jobs led colorful lives. The Macanese have been largely remembered in Hong Kong history as hard-working and loyal workers, yet we often lose sight of the fact that club members also made a mark in various associational spaces. José Luíz de Selavisa Alves, who initiated the Camões festival in 1880, worked as a clerk for the Harbour office. He was also a good swimmer and a cherished member of the Victoria Recreation Club.83 Another member, Eusébio Honorato de Aquino, became a Companion of the Imperial Service Order for his long service with the Hong Kong stamp office.84 When the Club celebrated its golden jubilee in 1916, 81 ‘Hong Kong, 26 November 1881.’ 82 The Hongkong Directory, 23, 66, 20; ‘Lusitano Club,’ Carl Smith Collection, 174889, Public Records Office, Hong Kong; ‘J.M.O. Lima,’ Carl Smith Collection, 225353, Public Records Office, Hong Kong. 83 J.P.B., ‘Loss to Portuguese Community,’ The Hong Kong Telegraph, 11 July 1927, 7. 84 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. I, 1st ed., 248; ‘Coronation Items,’ South China Morning Post, 26 June 1911, 8.

125

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

Alves and De Aquino were invited as honorable guests to the inauguration. With gusto, the South China Morning Post reported: On the 16th December, 1916, the Club celebrated its golden jubilee with great éclat and had the great satisfaction of seeing amongst its members four members who were present at the inauguration of the Club. These members were E.H. de Aquino, Chevalier of the Order of S. Thiago, Imperial Service Order, Mr. J.L. Selavisa Alves, Chevalier of the Order of Christ, Mr. F.F. Azevedo and the late Mr. Eduardo Pereira.85

*** From clerks to bourgeois Macanese men, Club Lusitano’s members joined the association with different intentions. The club provided pathways to gain public recognition and bridged members to a wider world of interracial sociability and middle-class respectability. This, nevertheless, did not come without a price. The rules of exclusion had to be reshuffled and lower-class Macanese men were barred from becoming members of the club. As an ‘elites-only’ club adopting British club culture and Victorian ideals of masculinity, Club Lusitano showcased a privileged lifestyle that was deemed respectable by the colony’s Europeans and Chinese elites. In fact, the exclusivity of Club Lusitano did not go unnoticed. It caught the attention of Macau’s residents, as seen in a letter published in O Macaense. The writer criticized the club’s composition and observed only ‘the wealthiest Macanese men’ could serve as the club’s directors. He or she suggested the club should stop making a distinction between shareholders and subscribers when electing board members.86 Certainly, such an idea would have defeated the main purpose of Club Lusitano. The club’s committee thus continued to operate in its pre-existing state, through time deepening the line that segregated the middle- and lower-class Macanese. This would become more obvious by the turn of the century, particularly with the impact of Anglicization and the coming-of-age of Hong Kong-born Anglophile Macanese subjects. Club Lusitano would then emerge as an Anglicized Portuguese community in the eyes of those who felt a stronger sense of belonging to Macau. As demonstrated by the 1880 Camões festival, Club Lusitano was an arena where middle-class Macanese simultaneously forged new links to Portugal and pledged allegiance to the British colonial government. Austin 85 ‘Lusitano Club: New Building Opened,’ South China Morning Post, 15 May 1922, 3. 86 De Sá, The Boys from Macau, 87–88.

126 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Coates highlighted that the Macanese in Hong Kong were mostly clerks, non-Protestant, non-Freemason and not really Europeans, yet there was a small group of ‘professional men’ who successfully established themselves as ‘natural leaders’ of the community.87 The path to prominence was not a straightforward one. It required the construction of Portugueseness through Club Lusitano’s highly publicized events, which served as spaces to bring the Macanese and Britons together onto the same social setting. The selective use of Portuguese culture worked in shaping the Macanese as representatives not only of the Macanese community in the colony, but also of the Portuguese monarchy in Hong Kong. With most members having never stepped foot on Portugal, they could only imagine, mimic and fabricate cultural connections to the fatherland. Moreover, the members of Club Lusitano did not actively pursue the recognition of the metropole, opting instead to gain the appreciation of the Macau government and the British colonial administration. Having one foot in both the British and Portuguese worlds, the Macanese built a world beyond the constraints of the colonial workplace. They actively used Hong Kong’s urban spaces to realize what they could not achieve in their employment. The dominant depiction in existing literature of Hong Kong’s Macanese as loyal clerks working round the clock has contributed to an overemphasis on colonial spaces as rigid, bland and discriminative. We tend to focus on colonies as guarded by structured and inflexible policies that eventually led to the resistance of colonized subjects. While this is not untrue, it overshadows the room to maneuver that transimperial diasporic communities had in the shaping of their ethnic and class identities. The case of Club Lusitano allows us to further rethink colonial ports as cosmopolitan cities that generated interracial contact and new forms of ambiguities based off the resources of imperial networks and the strengths of solidarity and imagination. The colony offered various opportunities for entertainment and recreation, as well as unprecedented forms of kinship between middle-class men looking to expand their social profiles. Although many remained as subordinates in the workplace, the middle-class Macanese discovered alternative outlets to claim authority in the British colony. Living, working and surviving in a British-ruled territory thus allowed an alternative strand of Portugueseness to emerge, injecting new meaning and purpose to being a Portuguese subject on a foreign imperial sphere.

87 Austin Coates, ‘Rizal in Hong Kong,’ Proceedings of the International Congress on Rizal (Manila: Jose Rizal National Centennial Commission, 1962), 287–288.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

127

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong Section VI-07 (Folders 1–2), ‘A Brief Sketch of Fifty Years’ Work of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul in Hong Kong.’ Section VI-08, Social Assistance: Other Associations The National Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew CO 129/30, ‘Memorial of Andrew Shortrede to The Duke of Newcastle.’ 21 July 1853. National Library of Australia, Canberra MS 4300 5.3/1, J.M. Braga. ‘Typescript Draft Of “The Teaching Of Portuguese In Hong Kong: Some Notes On Its History, c. 1950s.”’ Public Records Office of Hong Kong, Hong Kong Carl Smith Collection, 174889, ‘Lusitano Club.’ Carl Smith Collection, 225353, ‘J.M.O. Lima.’ Carl Smith Collection, 41672, ‘Tam A-ting; Club Lusitano.’ Carl Smith Collection, 96565, ‘Dunn, Thomas Duncan.’ Carl Smith Collection, 236836, ‘Delfino Noronha; Noronha and Sons.’ Carl Smith Collection, 236811; 236812; 236831; 236823; 236813, ‘Delfino Noronha.’ Carl Smith Collection, 174861; 174879, ‘Club Lusitano de Hongkong Ltd.’ Carl Smith Collection, 197888, ‘Barretto Joao Antonio.’ Carl Smith Collection, 197889, ‘Joao Antonio Barretto,’ HKRS 149-2/133, ‘Memorandum of Agreement between H.E. Sir Hercules Robinson (originally H.E. Sir Bowring), Governor of Hong Kong, and Delfino Noronha (originally Andrew Shortede): on Matters of Printing Government Gazette and Other Documents (Originally 28/6/1855).’ 10 December 1859. HKRS 149-2/216, ‘Memo: of Agreement for Printing, H.E. The Governor and D. Noronha, Printer.’ 10 December 1859. HKRS 149-2/3782, ‘Delfino Noronha to W.H. March, Colonial Secretary.’ 9 April 1883.

Published primary sources Club Lusitano. Bye-laws of the Club Lusitano, Limited. Hong Kong: L. Noronha, 1904. —. Memoria dos festejos celebrados em Hongkong por occasião do tricentenario do principe dos poetas Portuguezes Luiz de Camões (Memorial of the Festivities Celebrated in Hong Kong On The Occasion of the Tercentenary of the Prince of Portuguese Poets Luiz de Camões). Hong Kong: Na Typographia de De Souza e Ca., 1880.

128 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Dennys, Nicholas Belfield, ed. The Treaty Ports of China and Japan: A Complete Guide To The Open Ports of Those Countries, Together With Peking, Yedo, Hongkong and Macao. Hong Kong: A. Shortrede And Co., 1867. Directory and Chronicle for China, Japan, Corea, Indo-China, Straits Settlements, Malay States, Siam, Netherlands India, Borneo, the Philippines, 1908. Hong Kong: Hongkong Daily Press, 1908. Eitel, Ernest. Europe in China: The History of Hongkong from the Beginning to the Year 1882. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1983. Hong Kong Club. Articles of Association of the Hongkong Club. Hong Kong: Noronha, 1924. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan and the Philippines for the Year 1877. Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1878. The Chronicle & Directory for China, Japan, & The Philippines for the Year 1876. Hong Kong: The Daily Press, 1877. The Hongkong Directory: With List of Foreign Residents in China. Hong Kong: Armenian Press, 1859.

Newspapers Hongkong Daily Press, Hong Kong North China Herald, Shanghai O Boletim Do Governo de Macau, Macau South China Morning Post, Hong Kong Straits Times Overland Journal, Singapore The China Mail, Hong Kong The Friend of China and Hongkong Gazette, Hong Kong The Hongkong Government Gazette, Hong Kong The Hongkong Telegraph, Hong Kong The Illustrated London News, London

Secondary sources Adams, Annmarie. ‘The Place of Manliness: Architecture, Domesticity and Men’s Clubs.’ In Making Men, Making History: Canadian Masculinities across Time and Place, edited by Peter Gossage and Robert Rutherdale, 109–131. Vancouver: UBC Press, 2018. Black, Barbara. A Room of His Own: A Literary-Cultural Study of Victorian Clubland. Athens, Ohio: Ohio University Press, 2012. Blunt, Alison. ‘Imperial Geographies of Home: British Domesticity in India, 1886–1925.’ Transactions of the Institute of British Geographers 24, no. 4 (1999): 421–440.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

129

Bouchier, Nancy B. ‘Idealized Middle-Class Sport for a Young Nation: Lacrosse in Nineteenth-Century Ontario Towns, 1871–1891.’ Journal of Canadian Studies 29, no. 2 (1994): 89–110. Braga, Stuart. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. Cabral, Alexandre. Notas Oitocentistas—I (1880 Notes—I). Lisbon: Livros Horizonte, 1980. Capdeville, Valérie. ‘Gender at Stake: The Role of Eighteenth-Century London Clubs in Shaping a New Model of English Masculinity.’ Culture, Society & Masculinities 4, no. 1 (2012): 13–32. —. The Ambivalent Identity of Eighteenth-Century London Clubs as a Prelude to Victorian Clublife.’ Cahiers victoriens et édouardiens 81 (2015). Cavallo, Sandra. Charity and Power in Early Modern Italy: Benefactors and Their Motives in Turin, 1541–1789. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 1995. Club Lusitano. ‘Club Lusitano: 150 Years of History, 1866–2016.’ Hong Kong: Club Lusitano, 2016. Coates, Austin. China Races. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1984. Coates, Austin. ‘Rizal in Hong Kong.’ Proceedings of the International Congress on Rizal, 287–298. Manila: Jose Rizal National Centennial Commission, 1962. Cohen, Benjamin B. ‘Networks of Sociability: Women’s Clubs in Colonial and Postcolonial India.’ Frontiers 30, no. 3 (2009): 168–195. —. In the Club: Associational Life in Colonial South Asia. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2015. De Meneses, Filipe Ribeiro. ‘Camões, Portuguese War Propaganda, and the Dream of a Safe Colonial Empire, 1914–1918.’ NUI Maynooth Papers in Spanish, Portuguese and Latin America Studies 12 (2005): 1–27. De Sá, Luís Andrade. The Boys from Macau. Macau: Fundação Oriente, Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1999. De Sousa, Ivo Carneiro. ‘Orfandade feminina, mercado matrimonial e elites sociais em Macau (século XVIII)’ (Women, Marriage and Family in Macau: Female Orphans, Marriage Market and Social Elites in Macau (Eighteenth Century)). Review of Culture 3, no. 22 (2007): 6–39. Ding Xinbao 丁新豹 and Lu Shuying 盧淑櫻. Feiwo zuyi: zhanqian Xianggang de waiji zuqun 非我族裔: 戰前香港的外籍族群 (Not of My Kind: Foreign Communities in Pre-war Hong Kong). Hong Kong: Sanlian shudian, 2014. Doran, Christine. ‘The Chinese Origins of Democracy: Dynamic Confucianism in Singapore.’ Nebula 7, no. 4 (2010): 47–53. Dos Guimarães Sá, Isabel. ‘Ganhos da terra e ganhos do mar: caridade e comércio na Miscericórdia de Macau (Secúlos XVII–XVIII)’ (Land Gains and Sea Gains:

130 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Charity and Trade in Macau’s Miscericórdia (Seventeenth to Eighteenth Centuries)). Ler História 44 (2003): 45–57. Edwards, Penny. ‘Relocating the Interlocutor: Taw Sein Ko (1864–1930) and the Itinerancy of Knowledge in British Burma.’ South East Asia Research 12, no. 3 (2004): 277–335. England, Vaudine. Kindred Spirits: A History of the Hong Kong Club. Hong Kong: Moonchild Production Co., 2016. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vol. I. 1st ed. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996. Freeland, Alan. ‘The People and the Poet: Portuguese National Identity and the Camões Tercentenary (1880).’ In Nationalism and the National in the Iberian Peninsula: Competing and Conflicting Identities, edited by Clare Mar-Molinero and Angel Smith, 53–88. Oxford: Berg, 1996. Frost, Mark Ravinder. ‘Transcultural Diaspora: The Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1918.’ Asia Research Institute Working Paper Series, no. 10 (2003). Furnée, Jan Hein. ‘In Good Company: Class, Gender and Politics in the Hague’s Gentlemen’s Clubs.’ In Civil Society, Associations, and Urban Places: Class, Nation and Culture in Nineteenth-Century Europe, edited by Boudien De Vries and Graeme Morton, 117–138. Aldershot: Ashgate, 2006. Gleeson, B.J. ‘A Public Sphere for Women: The Case of Charity in Colonial Melbourne.’ Area 27, no. 3 (1995): 193–207. Harbaugh, William T. ‘What Do Donations Buy? A Model of Philanthropy based on Prestige and Warm Glow.’ Journal of Public Economics 67 (1998): 269–284. Harper, T.N. ‘Globalism and the Pursuit of Authenticity: The Making of a Diasporic Public Sphere in Singapore.’ Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 12, no. 2 (1997): 261–292. Hespanha, António Manuel. Filhos da Terra (Sons of the Land). Lisbon: Tinta da China, 2019. Huggins, Mike. ‘Culture, Class and Respectability: Racing and the Middle Classes in the Nineteenth Century.’ International Journal of Social History 33, no. 1 (2000): 585–600. —. ‘More Sinful Pleasures? Leisure, Respectability and the Male Middle Classes in Victorian England.’ Journal of Social History 33 (2000): 585–600. Hurley, R.C. Picturesque Hongkong (British Crown Colony) and Dependencies. Hong Kong: Commercial Press, 1925. João, Maria Isabel. ‘Public Memory and Power in Portugal (1880–1960).’ Translated by Landeg White. Portuguese Studies 18 (2002): 96–120. Jones, Gareth Steadman. Outcast London: A Study in the Relationship between Classes in Victorian Society. London: Verso, 2013.

Horser acing, Theater and Camões

131

Khor, Neil Jun Keong, and Keat Siew Khoo. The Penang Po Leung Kuk, Chinese Women, Prostitution and a Welfare Organisation. Kuala Lumpur: The Malaysian Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society, 2004. King, Frank H.H., and Prescott Clarke, A Research Guide to Chinacoast Newspapers, 1822–1911. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965. Mak, Ricardo K.S. ‘Nineteenth-Century German Community.’ In Foreign Communities in Hong Kong, 1840s–1950s, edited by Cindy Yik-yi Chu, 61–84. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2005. Milne-Smith, Amy. ‘A Flight to Domesticity? Making a Home in the Gentlemen’s Clubs of London, 1880–1914.’ Journal of British Studies 45, no. 4 (2006): 796–818. Morais, Isabel. ‘Darwinism, Freemasonry and Print Culture: The Construction Of Identity Of The Macanese Colonial Elites In The Late Nineteenth Century.’ In Macao—The Formation Of A Global City, edited by C.X. George Wei, 53–72. New York: Routledge, 2014. Murray, Venetia. High Society: A Social History of the Regency Period 1788–1830. London: Viking, 1998. Pinfold, John. ‘Horse Racing and the Upper Classes in the Nineteenth Century.’ Sports in History 28, no. 3 (2008): 414–430. Robbins, David. ‘Sport, Hegemony and the Middle Class: The Victorian Mountaineers.’ Theory, Culture & Society 4, no. 4 (1987): 579–601. Shapely, Peter. Charity and Power in Victorian Manchester. Manchester: The Chetham Society, 2000. Sinn, Elizabeth. Power and Charity: A Chinese Merchant Elite in Colonial Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2003. Smith, Carl T. ‘The German Speaking Community in Hong Kong, 1846–1918.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 34 (1994): 1–55. —. ‘The Hong Kong Amateur Dramatic Club and its Predecessors.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong Branch 22 (1982): 217–251. Timbs, John. Clubs and Club Life in London: With Anecdotes of its Famous Coffee Houses, Hostelries, and Taverns, from the Seventeenth Century to the Present. London: John Camden Hotten, 1872. Venâcio, Giselle Martins. ‘Commemorate Camões and Rethink the Nation: Joaquim Nabuco’s Speech during the Celebration of the Tercentenary of the Death of Camões in Rio de Janeiro (1880).’ Revista Brasileira de Hístoria 33, no. 65 (2013). Wong Hoi-to. ‘Interport Printing Enterprise: Macanese Printing Networks in Chinese Treaty Ports.’ In Treaty Ports in Modern China: Law, Land and Power, edited by Robert Bickers and Isabella Jackson, 139–157. New York: Routledge, 2016. Wright, Arnold. Twentieth Century Impressions of Hongkong, Shanghai and other Treaty Ports of China. London: Lloyd’s Greater Britain Pub. Co., 1908.

4

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’ Abstract Moving away from the dominant anti-colonial discourses in early twentieth-century Asia, the Macanese activities in Hong Kong reveal an alternative development linked to the emergence of multiracial associations and the rise of an Anglophone public sphere. Some local-born, English-educated Macanese participated in the construction of an early civil society rooted on a shared perception of the British colony as a ‘home’ and a permanent settlement. Nevertheless, this Anglicized identity did not represent the entire generation of Macanese youth who were born and raised in Hong Kong. While the pursuits of J.P. Braga, Leo d’Almada e Castro and Clotilde Barretto demonstrate the propagation of a more local strand among the Macanese, Montalto de Jesus opted to move in the Portuguese sphere. Keywords: cosmopolitanism, civil society, port-cities, Anglophone, Anglicization, modern Asia

In 1895, Hong Kong-born José Pedro Braga published The Rights of Aliens in Hongkong, a pioneering work against racial inequality in the British colony. He penned his respects for the spread of justice ‘throughout the length and breadth of the British Empire’ and called for equal employment opportunities for the ‘alien, native, or true-born Briton.’1 Like many other local-born and -bred children of first-generation migrants, Braga saw British Hong Kong as a home and himself a loyal subject of the colonial administration. Their experience and pursuits reveal one of the most striking developments of Hong Kong in the late 1890s and early twentieth century: the emergence and propagation of a sense of belonging to the colony amongst 1 Braga, The Rights of Aliens, xi.

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_ch04

134 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

non-British publics. Having naturalized as British subjects and received western education, this new generation of middle-class Macanese men and women cultivated a consciousness that was neither Portuguese nor British. They were Macanese in heritage and Anglophile in thought, yet they carried a visible affinity to colonial Hong Kong that brought them to a world beyond skin color. Together with like-minded Chinese and Eurasians, Macanese publics created an unprecedented alliance that pledged to make Hong Kong a better place. Through this arena, the Macanese found a voice that spoke not only for their people, but also fought for the silenced, less privileged population of the city. The emergence of Asian civil society in the colonial setting goes back to the nineteenth century, before the advent of new print technologies and the modern press. Before the 1850s, indigenous advocates in colonial India were already translating and refining in their native language European intellectual trends.2 We owe this information to the late Chris Bayly, who highlighted the existence of ‘public men’ in North India who guarded an indigenous public sphere (the ecumene) and represented the views of artisans and the bazaar people. These men adopted, appropriated and revised European ideals of liberty and justice in Urdu in order to critique social and colonial inequalities. Back then, ideas circulated through personal and institutional letters and were debated in druggists’ stalls, sweetshops, mosques and temples.3 By the late nineteenth century, aspiring publics looking to establish their footing over issues in India had turned to re-casting the works of British writers through local lens. They sought to become ‘public moralists,’ disseminating foreign ideas for the purpose of prompting moral imperatives. 4 Hong Kong’s earliest local public sphere, albeit small in size, took shape over the pages of local 2 Christopher A. Bayly, ‘Rammohun Roy and the Advent of Constitutional Liberalism in India, 1800–1830,’ Modern Intellectual History 4, no. 1 (2007), 25–41; Elena Valdemari, ‘The Influence of Liberalism in the Def inition of the Idea of the Nation in India,’ La Révolution française 8 (2015). 3 Christopher A. Bayly, ‘The Indian Ecumene: An Indigenous Public Sphere,’ in The Book History Reader, ed. David Finkelstein and Alistair McCleery (London: Routledge, 2002), 175, 179–180. 4 Christopher A. Bayly, Recovering Liberties: Indian Thought in the Age of Liberalism and Empire (Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011), 188–189. For the idea of ‘public moralist,’ see Stefan Collini, Public Moralists: Political Thought and Intellectual Life in Britain 1850–1930 (Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991). For another work on public moralists in Asian colonies, see Mohinder Singh, ‘Spectres of the West: Negotiating a Civilizing Figure in Hindi,’ in Civilizing Emotions: Concepts in Nineteenth-Century Asia and Europe, ed. Margrit Pernau et. al. (Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015), 193–194.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

135

English- and Chinese-language newspapers and in letters sent to public institutions during the second half of the nineteenth century. Buried in the middle of these newspapers was a quietly blooming small inter-port Lusophone arena brought forward by Lourenço Pereira Marques, who served between 1880 and 1896 as a medical off icer of the Hong Kong government. A foreign-educated, Macau-born doctor, Marques authored the first extensive account of Darwinism in China and started a war of words with the Catholic communities of Macau and Manila. The majority of the Macanese population agreed with the church’s view that Darwinism was incompatible with Catholicism, but Marques criticized this claim as backward and dogmatic. A ‘public man’ of his times, he only wanted to see the Macanese community progress by embracing new developments in science and technology.5 While Marques debated with other Catholics through journals and urban elites in Europe discussed issues in coffeehouses and salons, Hong Kong’s Chinese urbanites formed their own alliance through the Tung Wah Hospital, a ‘charity’ that cared for the colony’s Chinese and helped elevate the authority of Chinese leaders.6 Their initiatives included a very public spat on whether the mui tsai (妹仔) system, a long Chinese tradition of selling girls from poor families to servitude in wealthy families, was a custom or a form of slavery.7 In 1879, the Chinese elites f ired a public attack on the government in an issue concerning the City Hall museum’s ‘color-specif ic’ opening hours.8 The museum restricted the visiting hours and days of the Chinese population, encouraging the non-Chinese to visit only when the Chinese were absent. According to British politician and businessman William Keswick, allowing the lower-class Chinese ‘who [ate] garlic with their rice, and whose clothing in winter [was] not the cleanest state and in 5 For an extensive discussion of Marques’s role in facilitating a discussion on Darwinism between Hong Kong, Manila and Macau, see Catherine S. Chan, ‘Diverse Cosmopolitan Visions and Intellectual Passions: Macanese Publics in British Hong Kong,’ Modern Asian Studies (forthcoming, 2021). 6 Carl T. Smith, ‘The Emergence of a Chinese Elite in Hong Kong,’ Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 11 (1971), 74–115; Carl T. Smith, Chinese Christians: Elites, Middlemen, and the Church in Hong Kong (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2005), 162. See also, Sinn, Power and Charity, 82–120. 7 For the mui tsai debate, see John Carroll, ‘A National Custom: Debating Female Servitude in Late Nineteenth-Century Hong Kong,’ Modern Asian Studies 43, no. 6 (2009), 1472. 8 For a brief account of the incident, see Linda Pomerantz-Zhang, Wu Tingfang (1842–1922): Reform and Modernization in Modern Chinese History (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1992), 59–62.

136 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

summer [was] of the very scantiest description’ into the museum at all hours would scare away ‘European ladies, respectable Chinese women’ and almost all European residents of the colony.9 Fed up with the government’s unequal treatment of the Chinese, Fung Mingshan (馮明珊) led twenty-f ive Chinese elites, including opium traders, Straits Chinese businessmen and intermediaries active in Hong Kong’s transpacif ic trade, to petition for the abolition of racial distinction at the City Hall museum. The Chinese leaders’ high-profile move successfully triggered the Chinese-language press to campaign against the government and the museum committee reset its opening hours, allowing all Chinese to visit in the morning, all non-Chinese to enter in the afternoon and all ‘respectably dressed person[s]’ to visit any time on application to the curator. Ng Choy continued to criticize the absurdity of the museum’s new opening hours in a Council meeting.10 The noise eventually pressured the Colonial Office to send a warning to the Hong Kong administration that it would not sanction the expenditure of public money on any institution that encouraged racial discrimination.11 As nineteenth-century public moralists, the Chinese elites focused on defending the rights of the Chinese population against the inhumane practices and colonial inequalities of the era. The rise of a broader, multiracial Anglophile circle in British Hong Kong would come a bit later, influenced by the snowballing inter-port Anglophone public sphere and transnational associational culture in the interwar years. These platforms blurred ethnic lines and reconf igured collective identities beyond the conf ines of race, hinged with a global consciousness and inspired by internationalist ideas.12 Through the Englishlanguage press, readers and writers from different racial backgrounds and occupations creatively convened in imaginary camps where they debated on local and global issues. Middle-class publics explored an unparalleled level of interracial connectedness, shaped by a collective imagination that was embedded in new forms of local association and global civic

9 ‘William Keswick to Lord Kimberley,’ 31 March 1881, 443, CO 129/192, The National Archives, London. 10 ‘Speech by Ng Choy at the Legislative Council,’ 10 September 1880, CO 129/189, p. 484, The National Archives, London. 11 ‘The Right Honourable The Early of Kimberley to Governor Sir John Pope Hennessy, K.C.M.G.,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 9 July 1881, 554. 12 Andrew Arsan, Su Lin Lewis and Anne-Isabelle Richard, ‘Editorial—The Roots of Global Civil Society and the Interwar Moment,’ Journal of Global History 7, no. 2 (2012), 159.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

137

membership.13 Rotary clubs housed members from various backgrounds and advocated civic sensibility amongst middle-class professionals.14 In 1935, several hundred Chinese students, influenced by their membership to the Young Men’s Christian Association (YMCA) and Young Women’s Christian Association (YWCA), marched into Beiping to protest against Japanese invasion in a war-torn Republican China.15 In Singapore, the Straits Chinese explored a domiciled identity where leading ‘cosmopolitan avatars’ like Lim Boon Keng and Lim Cheng Ean helped shape a global Chinese community. The Peranakans used the Straits Chinese British Association (SCBA) to express allegiance to the British empire and construct a sense of belonging to the Straits Settlement.16 In addition, several Asian colonies witnessed the formation of anti-colonial resistant discourses, which subsequently paved the way for the spread and consolidation of new national identities.17 All of these developments, though varying in context and consequence, were interlaced with internationalist discourses that penetrated into local affairs and created new ideas to address longstanding social issues at home.18 In line with these developments, Hong Kong’s middle-class publics discovered an identity that took pride in the British colony. The city’s urbanites found purpose in civic engagement through the transnational platforms of Freemasonry, the Rotary club and local yet multiracial 13 See Arsan, Lewis and Richard, ‘Editorial—The Roots of Global Civil Society,’ 157–165; Sumit Mandal, ‘Transethnic Solidarities, Racialization and Social Equality,’ in The State of Malaysia: Ethnicity, Equity and Reform, ed. Edmund Terence Gomez (London: Routledge Curzon, 2004), 49–78. 14 Su Lin Lewis, ‘Rotary International’s “Acid Test”: Multi-ethnic Associational Life in 1930s Southeast Asia,’ Journal of Global History, 7, 2 (2012), 302–324. 15 Charles A. Keller, ‘The Christian Student Movement, YMCAs, and Transnationalism in Republican China,’ Journal of American-East Asian Relations 13, no. 1 (2004), 55–80. 16 Keo, ‘Between Empire and Nation(s),’ 99–117. 17 See, for instance, Partha Chatterjee, ‘Nationalism, Internationalism and Cosmopolitanism: Some Observations from Modern Indian History,’ Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 36, no. 2 (2016), 320–334; Sunil S. Amrith, ‘Asian Internationalism: Bandung’s Echo in a Colonial Metropolis,’ Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 6, no. 4 (2005), 557–569. 18 John A. Hall and Frank Trentmann, ‘Contests over Civil Society: Introductory Perspectives,’ in Civil Society: A Reader in History, Theory and Global Politics, ed. John Hall and Frank Trentmann (Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2005), 2, 3; Harper, ‘Globalism and the Pursuit of Authenticity’; Chua, ‘The Domiciled Identity in Colonial Singapore,’ 145–154; Frost, ‘Transcultural Diaspora,’ 35; Daniel P.S. Goh, ‘Eyes Turned towards China: Postcolonial Mimicry, Transcultural Elitism and Singapore Chineseness,’ in Race and Multiculturalism in Malaysia and Singapore, ed. Daniel P.S. Goh, Matilda Gabrielillai, Philip Holden and Gaik Cheng Khoo (London: Routledge, 2009), 53–54.

138 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

associations like the League of Fellowship and the Kowloon Residents’ Association (KRA).19 The pursuits of Hong Kong-born Macanese from the late nineteenth to the early twentieth centuries reveal not only crucial identity transformations, but also Hong Kong’s unique experience with intellectual and social trends that were burgeoning in other port-cities. This Anglicized identity, nonetheless, cannot be said to apply to all Macanese subjects born and raised in the colony. Some Macanese navigated the Portuguese worlds and built their lives and careers around Macau. We start by exploring the narrative of Carlos Augusto Montalto de Jesus, a well-traveled, well-versed Macanese historian and noted expert of geography and cartography who, more often than not, is remembered for the scandalous confiscation and public burning of the second edition of his book Historic Macao. Despite his Hong Kong roots and connections to Club Lusitano, Montalto started roaming the Portuguese sphere at the turn of the century. Writing his major works in English, he showed a strong passion for documenting the history of Portuguese activities in China. In the 1920s, his works prompted inter-port discussions regarding Portugal’s maladministration of Macau, as well as the social standing of an unlucky Macanese historian who spoke the inconvenient truth in a transformative and clamorous era.

From Hong Kong to Lisbon to Shanghai Carlos Augusto Montalto de Jesus was born in Hong Kong in 1863, the eldest of the eight children of João António de Jesus, a clerk for Turner & Co., and Lindamira Augusta Montalto, the daughter of an Italian who lived in Hong Kong. His paternal great-grandfather left Belém, Brazil at the young age of five with a Portuguese company from Rio de Janeiro to venture on a commercial voyage to Macau. Montalto’s grandfather was a well-established businessman and an elected treasurer of the Macau council. Not much is known of Montalto’s childhood, except that he received education in St. Joseph’s College and later acquired fluency in Portuguese, Spanish, French and English.20 Records show that he worked as an administrative assistant for the Hongkong & Shanghai Bank and 19 Vivian Kong, ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism: Multi-ethnic Civil Society in Interwar Hong Kong,’ The Historical Research 63, no. 5 (2020), 1281–1302. 20 For Montalto and St. Joseph’s College, see ‘St. Joseph’s College,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 6 February 1888, 2. Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 2nd ed., 35–38.

138 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

associations like the League of Fellowship and the Kowloon Residents’ Association (KRA).19 The pursuits of Hong Kong-born Macanese from the late nineteenth to the early twentieth centuries reveal not only crucial identity transformations, but also Hong Kong’s unique experience with intellectual and social trends that were burgeoning in other port-cities. This Anglicized identity, nonetheless, cannot be said to apply to all Macanese subjects born and raised in the colony. Some Macanese navigated the Portuguese worlds and built their lives and careers around Macau. We start by exploring the narrative of Carlos Augusto Montalto de Jesus, a well-traveled, well-versed Macanese historian and noted expert of geography and cartography who, more often than not, is remembered for the scandalous confiscation and public burning of the second edition of his book Historic Macao. Despite his Hong Kong roots and connections to Club Lusitano, Montalto started roaming the Portuguese sphere at the turn of the century. Writing his major works in English, he showed a strong passion for documenting the history of Portuguese activities in China. In the 1920s, his works prompted inter-port discussions regarding Portugal’s maladministration of Macau, as well as the social standing of an unlucky Macanese historian who spoke the inconvenient truth in a transformative and clamorous era.

From Hong Kong to Lisbon to Shanghai Carlos Augusto Montalto de Jesus was born in Hong Kong in 1863, the eldest of the eight children of João António de Jesus, a clerk for Turner & Co., and Lindamira Augusta Montalto, the daughter of an Italian who lived in Hong Kong. His paternal great-grandfather left Belém, Brazil at the young age of five with a Portuguese company from Rio de Janeiro to venture on a commercial voyage to Macau. Montalto’s grandfather was a well-established businessman and an elected treasurer of the Macau council. Not much is known of Montalto’s childhood, except that he received education in St. Joseph’s College and later acquired fluency in Portuguese, Spanish, French and English.20 Records show that he worked as an administrative assistant for the Hongkong & Shanghai Bank and 19 Vivian Kong, ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism: Multi-ethnic Civil Society in Interwar Hong Kong,’ The Historical Research 63, no. 5 (2020), 1281–1302. 20 For Montalto and St. Joseph’s College, see ‘St. Joseph’s College,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 6 February 1888, 2. Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 2nd ed., 35–38.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

139

Jardine Matheson & Co., but these jobs could not suff ice his desire for other pursuits in life. Montalto eventually left Hong Kong and began traveling to give public lectures for the Sociedade de Geografia de Lisboa (Lisbon Geographic Society) and the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society. He became a member of the former through the help of Lourenço Pereira Marques and Hong Kong-based Macanese merchant Alfredo Jorge Vieira Ribeiro. In 1902, he read a paper entitled ‘Historic Macao’ at the forty-fifth anniversary celebration of the China Branch of the RAS and in that very year, published under Kelly & Walsh his first monograph of the same title. 21 Historic Macao merited Portugal’s presence in the Far East and was a milestone in Montalto’s career as a historian. It received praise from Macau’s Leal Senado members and the approval of the Hong Kong and Shanghai press.22 Montalto would spend the next two decades of his life journeying across the world. In 1906, he appeared as a contender for the Portuguese team in a Shanghai chess match publicized as The World v. Portugal.23 Throughout the 1910s, he frequented Shanghai; he was a distinguished player of the International Chess Club of Shanghai and an avid contributor to the city’s newspaper editorials.24 The publication of The Rise of Shanghai in 1906 and Historic Shanghai in 1909 further demonstrated his interests in and knowledge of the city. In the next decade, Montalto would leave China and head to Europe, wooed initially by the establishment of the Portuguese Republic. He was a staunch supporter of the Republican party and saw the change of government as an opportunity to campaign for the interests of Macau.25 In 1911, he published in the Portuguese language a ten-page pamphlet discussing the economic and political problems of Portugal and Macau. For Montalto, Macau’s problems were inseparable from the weak political administration of the Portuguese monarchy, which he believed ruined not only Portugal, but also weakened the national soul.26 His next presentation 21 B.G. Tours, ‘Asiatic Society: The China Branch,’ South China Morning Post, 31 December 1903, 2. 22 ‘Historic Macao,’ North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 25 June 1903, 1253. 23 ‘Chess,’ South China Morning Post, 21 November 1906, 2. 24 ‘Chess,’ South China Morning Post, 4 February 1909, 10. For Montalto’s contributions to newspapers, see the report regarding the Shanghai Mercury, ‘The First Foreign Newspaper in China,’ South China Morning Post, 27 April 1909, 11. 25 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 2nd ed., 39. 26 The pamphlet was the product of a conference organized by the Geographical Society of Lisbon. C.A. Montalto de Jesus, Portugal e Macau: Problemas Economics e Politicos (Portugal and Macau: Economic and Political Problems) (Lisbon: Rua Diario de Noticias, 1911).

140 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

for the Society, dated 1914, was a criticism of Portugal’s catastrophic state of affairs.27 This would be his last public lecture in Lisbon as questions of Portugal’s participation in the First World War gradually crept into public debates and took over other aspects of life. With his cultural pursuits briefly interrupted, Montalto attempted, unsuccessfully, to gain appointment as trade attaché to the Portuguese embassy in China and Japan under the Portuguese Diplomatic Corps.28 Without a clear prospect, Montalto traveled to Rio de Janeiro, Buenos Aires, Patagonia and London, taking on random employment as he struggled to make ends meet. In a letter from Rio de Janeiro to the Prime Minister of the first Republican provisional government, Bernardino Machado, Montalto revealed that he desperately needed money to finance his return to Macau.29 The next account shows him in Washington, D.C. in 1921 as a member of the Portuguese delegation to the Washington Disarmament Conference (Fig. 7).30 It remains unclear how he managed to join the delegation but the one-time appointment did not interrupt Montalto’s career as a wanderer. After the brief stint, he continued to roam around Portugal, as confirmed by Leo d’Almada e Castro’s account of a family holiday in 1923. Writing about a tour guide with Hong Kong origins, D’Almada wrote to his family: ‘Boarded a train to Bussaco, we had a Hong Kong man by the name of Montalto de Jesus for our guide. Mounted donkeys to climb to Cruz Alta.’31 Shortly thereafter, Montalto must have earned enough money to return to Macau. In 1925, official records show his freelance service in translating for the colonial government.32 The pinnacle of Montalto’s fame, which unfortunately also marked the lowest point of his life, would dawn in 1926 with the publication of the revised edition of Historic Macao. Disheartened by the failure of the Portuguese Republic, Montalto turned from praising the Portuguese empire in the Far East to lambasting Portugal’s long inertia. He boldly suggested 27 The presentation was given in 1914 and published in 1920. C.A. Montalto de Jesus, A Salvação de Portugal (The Salvation of Portugal) (Lisbon: Tipografía do Comércio, 1920). 28 Cited in Carlos Estorninho’s introduction in the Portuguese version of Montalto’s second edition of Historic Macao C.A. Montalto de Jesus, Macau Histórico, trans. Maria Alice Morais Jorge (Historic Macau) (Macau: Livros do Oriente, 1990) 13. 29 ‘Letter from Montalto de Jesus to Bernardino Machado,’ 21 May 1914, Fundação Mário Soares, 06676.056, http://hdl.handle.net/11002/fms_dc_104469 (accessed 4 March 2020). 30 ‘Montalto de Jesus Returns to Shanghai after Absence of More than Twenty Years,’ The China Press, 23 June 1929, 12. 31 Ruy Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 32 ‘Letter from the Secretary General,’ 14 November 1925, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/09822, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

141

passing Macau from the hands of a ‘helpless Portugal’ to ‘the providential tutelage of the League of Nations,’ putting him at the center of a heated debate over whether the Macanese historian was a hero for revealing the truth or a traitor for proposing an end to Portuguese rule.33 For Montalto, being Macanese was less a problem of being Portuguese, but more a question of how to safeguard Macau’s interests, even when it meant castigating Portugal for its incompetent rule of the city. For Montalto’s critics, however, a good Macanese was someone who remained loyal to Portugal regardless of its actions. In the months following the release of Historic Macao, letters flooded the English- and Portuguese-language newspapers of Macau, Hong Kong and Shanghai. While his friends praised him for being a ‘true patriot’ and named him ‘the martyr of Macao,’ most of those who did not know Montalto simply condemned him as ‘unpatriotic’ and ‘anti-Portuguese.’34 Worse than the backlash was the Macau government’s determination, even after the Goan court of appeal retracted its previous decision to punish Montalto for ‘abuse of the “Press Law,”’ to penalize Monalto for the use of ‘linguagem politicamente inconveniente e ofensiva do Soberania Nacional’ (language politically inconvenient and offensive to national sovereignty).35 Shortly after its release, the Macau police confiscated 446 copies of the book from a printing office and Montalto’s residency, all without a search warrant.36 The 1926 edition of Historic Macao profiled Montalto as a Macanese caught between Macau and Portugal. Aside from marking his love for Macau, his denunciation of Portugal was an attempt to awaken the Macanese public to the long neglect of Portugal. Coming to his own defense, Montalto maintained that ‘a true patriot’ could not be expected to ‘overlook crying wrongs and abuses which [had] already cost the poor [Portuguese] 33 For Montalto’s criticism, see C.A. Montalto de Jesus, Historic Macao: International Traits in China Old and New (Macau: Salesian Printing Press and Tipografa Mercantil, 1926), 514. For the debate, see Catherine S. Chan, ‘Macau Martyr or Portuguese Traitor? The Macanese Communities of Macau, Hong Kong and Shanghai and the Portuguese Nation,’ Historical Research 93, no. 262 (2020), 754–768. 34 ‘Historic Macao: Author Sent to Gaol for Four Months,’ South China Morning Post, 30 April 1928, 9; J. A. Jackson, ‘A. Montalto de Jesus,’ North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 12 May 1928, 238. For criticism, see ‘“Historic Macao,”’ A Pátria, 16 June 1926, 1; ‘Macau’s Future,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 14 June 1926, 1. 35 ‘Parecer’ (Opinion), 17 January 1929, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/10693, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. For the decision of the Goan court, see ‘Historic Macao: Author Sent to Gaol for Four Months.’ 36 ‘Auto de apreensão’ (Seizure Report), 16 June 1926, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/10693, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau.

142 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Figure 7  Montalto de Jesus in Washington, D.C., c. 1921

C.A. Montalto de Jesus, photographed by Herbert French in Washington D.C. on 7 December 1921 in perhaps one of the most important achievements of his life as a member of the Portuguese delegation to the Washington Disarmament Conference (courtesy of The Library of Congress). 37

Colony.’38 Despite being Hong Kong-born and -bred, Montalto gravitated towards the Portuguese sphere and spent most of his adult life outside of the British colony. He walked amongst Portuguese publics and was active in the Lusophone sphere, as affirmed by his close connections to the Lisbon Geographic Society. Nevertheless, his upbringing and education in Hong Kong allowed him to write his major works in the English language, which in turn bridged his thoughts to a wider Anglophone audience. His good intentions for a more progressive Macau, however, fell on deaf ears during the 1920s. What Montalto imagined to be a glorious page in his career ended with an embarrassing public bonfire in 1929, made out of the hundreds of confiscated copies of Historic Macao. Not thinking the government would actualize his words, Montalto sarcastically asked for his books to be burnt 37 ‘C.A. Montalto de Jesus, 12/7/21,’ Library of Congress, LC-DIG-npcc-05491. 38 C.A. Montalto de Jesus, ‘Historic Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 18 June 1926, 8.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

143

rather than left to rot. The Macau government further rejected his demand for compensation, leaving Montalto a disappointed and once again penniless sojourner.39 The fiasco of Historic Macao led Montalto de Jesus back to Hong Kong one last time. He found himself ‘abandoned and destitute’ until he found temporary refuge at the Asylum of the Little Sisters in Kowloon. Revealing his situation to a local Hong Kong newspaper, he wrote, At last I found it necessary to intern myself at the Asylum of the Little Sisters in Kowloon and was sheltered by charity among Chinese old men […] Some who knew me were shocked to find the historian of Macao herded with poor decrepit coolies. 40

Having never felt at home in Hong Kong and shunned by the Macanese community, Montalto de Jesus bade the city and Macau farewell in 1929. He sought for the financial assistance of his remaining friends and finally retreated to his last stop, Shanghai. The China Press announced his return to Shanghai in an article titled ‘Montalto de Jesus Returns to Shanghai After Absence of More than Twenty Years’ and sympathetically described him as the ‘broken hearted’ historian. 41 Montalto would die in Shanghai three years later at the age of sixty-nine, the tragic events of the last few years haunting him to his deathbed.

Globalizing colonial Hong Kong As the world moved into the modern era, another strand of Hong Kong’s Macanese leaned towards a civic identity shared with other Anglophile urbanites and built on a collective love for the British colony as a birthplace and a home. Although to varying extents, the Anglicization of non-Britons was inevitable given the practical benefits of having an English education. The Hong Kong government also offered incentives through subsidies and prizes for outstanding performance on English writing.42 Macanese parents were well aware of the importance of learning the English language. The 39 C.A. Montalto de Jesus, ‘A Book’s Tragedy,’ South China Morning Post, 2 April 1929, 8. 40 Cited in J. A. Jackson, ‘A. Montalto de Jesus,’ North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 12 May 1928, 238. 41 ‘Montalto de Jesus Returns to Shanghai after Absence of More than Twenty Years,’ The China Press, 23 June 1929, 12. 42 The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 February 1880, 144.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

143

rather than left to rot. The Macau government further rejected his demand for compensation, leaving Montalto a disappointed and once again penniless sojourner.39 The fiasco of Historic Macao led Montalto de Jesus back to Hong Kong one last time. He found himself ‘abandoned and destitute’ until he found temporary refuge at the Asylum of the Little Sisters in Kowloon. Revealing his situation to a local Hong Kong newspaper, he wrote, At last I found it necessary to intern myself at the Asylum of the Little Sisters in Kowloon and was sheltered by charity among Chinese old men […] Some who knew me were shocked to find the historian of Macao herded with poor decrepit coolies. 40

Having never felt at home in Hong Kong and shunned by the Macanese community, Montalto de Jesus bade the city and Macau farewell in 1929. He sought for the financial assistance of his remaining friends and finally retreated to his last stop, Shanghai. The China Press announced his return to Shanghai in an article titled ‘Montalto de Jesus Returns to Shanghai After Absence of More than Twenty Years’ and sympathetically described him as the ‘broken hearted’ historian. 41 Montalto would die in Shanghai three years later at the age of sixty-nine, the tragic events of the last few years haunting him to his deathbed.

Globalizing colonial Hong Kong As the world moved into the modern era, another strand of Hong Kong’s Macanese leaned towards a civic identity shared with other Anglophile urbanites and built on a collective love for the British colony as a birthplace and a home. Although to varying extents, the Anglicization of non-Britons was inevitable given the practical benefits of having an English education. The Hong Kong government also offered incentives through subsidies and prizes for outstanding performance on English writing.42 Macanese parents were well aware of the importance of learning the English language. The 39 C.A. Montalto de Jesus, ‘A Book’s Tragedy,’ South China Morning Post, 2 April 1929, 8. 40 Cited in J. A. Jackson, ‘A. Montalto de Jesus,’ North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 12 May 1928, 238. 41 ‘Montalto de Jesus Returns to Shanghai after Absence of More than Twenty Years,’ The China Press, 23 June 1929, 12. 42 The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 February 1880, 144.

144 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

education report of 1888 revealed: ‘Too many Portuguese parents, who speak Portuguese, only send their boys when 6 years old, to an English school and insist upon their being hurried as quickly as possible through Standard after Standard.’ This resulted in ‘mere smatters in English […] and systematic hot-house training’ that according to the government stunted higher mental and moral development. 43 Chinese students, in contrast, advanced in five or six years their English knowledge ‘from the alphabet to a knowledge of English sufficient to do a creditable paper on a play of Shakespeare.’44 Two other important developments furthered the Anglicization of Hong Kong-born Macanese children. The Hennessy administration, in particular, took steps to integrate the Macanese and other non-British youth into Hong Kong society. At a prize distribution event in St. Joseph’s in 1880, the Governor claimed to embrace the Macanese youth as ‘British subjects’ because ‘although they [were] of Portuguese race, they [had] been born in the colony.’ Both Hennessy and philanthropist Emanuel Belilios spoke of their optimistic visions for the Macanese. They hoped for the youth to strengthen their English learning so they could be better equipped for more important roles in the future. Hennessy envisioned more Macanese participation in public affairs and leading mercantile positions. Belilios expressed his confidence the Macanese would eventually be able to manage their own staff of Chinese clerks independently without the assistance of European heads. 45 As discussed in Chapter Two, Governor Hennessy enacted, for the first time in 1880, Hong Kong’s Naturalization Bill since its legislation in 1845. This gave Hong Kong-born subjects the option of enjoying ‘all the rights, advantage and privileges of a British subject’ within the borders of the colony.46 The Macanese community’s initial response to the new policy was mild and fragmented. As it turns out, becoming ‘British’ was also a question of class. A considerable portion of naturalized youngsters came from middle-class families; some continued the journey to Anglicization by seeking education in England. There was no doubt that for those willing to make the shift, being British in education, culture and status provided a pathway to broader prospects in life. 47 43 ‘The Educational Report for 1888, Presented to the Legislative Council, by Command of His Excellency the Governor,’ Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 February 1889, 102. 44 ‘Annual Report of the Head Master of the Victoria College for 1889,’ Hongkong Government Gazette, 10 January 1890, 220. 45 The Hongkong Government Gazette, 11 February 1880, 150, 152. 46 The Hongkong Government Gazette, 21 August 1880, 629. 47 Lees, ‘Being British in Malaya.’

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

145

A 1919 application for naturalization allows us a glimpse of the practical uses of acquiring British status. José Maria de Castro Basto, then manager of Noronha & Co., applied for the naturalization of his Hong Kong-born son, Antonio Hermenegildo de Senna Fernandes Basto. Young Antonio needed British status because it was his ticket to becoming an Associate of the Royal Institute of British Architects (RIBA) of London. 48 He eventually achieved both and returned to Hong Kong, where he had a promising career as an authorized architect.49 For Macanese subjects who aspired to join the colonial government in higher-ranking capacities, the enactment of the Naturalization Bill and the subsequent inclusion of local-born and -educated non-Europeans opened unprecedented paths to ascension. Antonio Basto’s brother, Roberto Alexandre, graduated in medicine from the University of Hong Kong and served in both the Sanitary Board and Urban Council during the 1930s. He was not the first. In 1916, Filomeno Maria de Graça Ozorio (also Osório) became the first Macanese and the youngest person to be appointed in the Sanitary Board, at the age of twenty-four. Ozorio received early education in St. Joseph’s and graduated from the Hong Kong College of Medicine as an authorized medical practitioner. He later served as Consul for Costa Rica and president of Club Lusitano during the 1930s.50 The easing of strict color bars prefigured the rise of a group of Anglophile non-Britons that John Carroll, specifically referring to Anglophile Chinese and Chinese Eurasian elites, loosely termed a cluster of ‘Hong Kong bourgeoisie’ who represented the multifaceted interests of the Chinese middle-class in the Chinese mainland, the local European bourgeoisie and the lower-class Chinese in the British colony.51 With a shared English educational background, Anglophile non-Britons found a new form of multiracial association and civic responsibility. José Pedro Braga’s life works as a stencil in tracing the rise of Anglophile urbanites in Hong Kong. His grandfather, Delfino Noronha, orchestrated young Braga’s path to Anglicization, helping him acquire British status and sending him off to Calcutta’s St. Xavier’s 48 ‘J.M. de Castro Basto to the Colonial Secretary,’ 6 November 1919, CO 129/456, 218, The National Archives, Kew. 49 ‘Naturalisation Certificate: Antonio Hermenegildo de Senna Fernandes Basto, Certificate A7745,’ 15 March 1921, HO 334/91/7745, The National Archives, Kew; The Architectural Journal Being the Journal of the Royal Institute of British Architects 29, no. 3 (1922), 68; ‘No. 643—List of Authorized Architects under Section 7 of the Public Health and Buildings Ordinance, 1903,’ The Hong Kong Government Gazette, 30 November 1928, 517. 50 ‘Government Notification No. 137,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 26 March 1915, 169; ‘Government Appointments No. 78,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 25 February 1916. 51 Carroll, Edge of Empires, 14.

146 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

College, a prestigious English school attended by a predominant population of English boys and some well-to-do locals.52 He later attended Roberts College, an affiliate of the Calcutta University and dreamt of training as a barrister in England.53 Braga’s ambition was cut short when Noronha asked for his return to Hong Kong in 1889 to help run Noronha & Sons. Having lost all chances of becoming a barrister, the young Macanese channeled his interest in helping the vulnerable through his writings. His sense of justice was further sharpened by the thought-provoking conversations he would have with Lourenço Marques and Filipino revolutionaries José Maria Basa and José Rizal around his grandfather’s dinner table.54 In 1895, he published The Rights of Aliens in Hongkong, a 127-page pamphlet inspired by prejudiced debates regarding the employment of Macanese clerks in the British colony. Featuring a photograph of Hennessy and a series of letters that appeared in Hong Kong and Macau’s newspapers, Braga documented and questioned derogatory descriptions of Macanese workers that ranged from the ‘rascally Portuguese’ to ‘machine[s] without anything intellectual.’ One reader went as far as suggesting an ‘anti-Portuguese crusade,’ urging the government to replace Macanese employees from all ranks with British workers.55 Braga himself chimed in on the newspaper debate, drawing on his imagination of the British empire in resolving Hong Kong’s social woes. He pointed out that the greatness of the empire relied on the liberal treatment of all aliens and criticized anyone against the employment of aliens as opposing ‘the letter and spirit of British law and a proper sense of British justice.’56 He further commended the previous Governors of the colony for supporting the employment of Macanese and Chinese civil servants. Deploying the internationalist idea of racial equality, Braga expanded the local newspaper debates on Macanese workers to defend the rights of local-born non-Britons. He maintained that aliens deserved equal treatment, because ‘being domiciled in the country we spend herein 52 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 203. 53 Roberts College, Distribution of Prizes at the Dalhousie Institute on the 15th March 1890 (Calcutta: Catholic Orphan Press, 1890), MS 4300/80, J.M. Braga Papers, National Library of Australia, Canberra. 54 ‘Jack Braga to Austin Coates,’ 18 November 1969, MS 4300/3.8/1, J.M. Braga Papers, National Library of Australia, Canberra; Austin Coates, Rizal, Philippine Nationalist and Martyr (Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1968), 213, 216. 55 One More Victim, ‘Hongkong Post Office,’ The China Mail, 29 August 1895, 3; Nepenther, ‘Tit for Tat,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 28 August 1895, 3; N.R., ‘The “Portuguese,”’ The China Mail, 5 September 1895, 3. 56 Braga, The Rights of Aliens, xviii–xix, xxxvi.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

147

all our earnings, and our savings […] We spend our lives here, and in every probability future generations will do the same.’57 Unlike Montalto’s works on the histories of Portugal and Macau, Braga touched on social issues of the day and triggered inter-port responses from various newspaper outlets. Weighing in on the debate, the editor of The Hongkong Telegraph complimented Braga for effectively exposing the Englishmen’s ‘colour prejudice.’58 Outside of Hong Kong, Macau’s Extremo Oriente printed an article that blamed the Hong Kong government for abusing the competitiveness of the employment market by reducing wages. The writer further criticized the widespread English education of other non-Britons for precipitating stiff market competition.59 In Macau, Echo Macaense praised Braga as a ‘hopeful youngster’ (um joven esperançoso) and in Siam, the Siam Free Press observed that Hong Kong was undergoing its ‘periodical fits of Jingoism which generally [took] the shape of a denunciation of all aliens.’ It further questioned, ‘can Hongkong do without aliens?’60 Although we can no longer trace the readership of The Rights of Aliens, the brief inter-port dialogue on Hong Kong’s racial inequalities is evidence Braga’s advocacies reached a larger audience. A few months after the debate ended, Braga continued to use Noronha & Sons’ printing technology to engage Hong Kong locals with fascinating short stories, photographs and current events. This resulted in a short-lived, bimonthly magazine called Odds and Ends.61 To a large extent, Odds and Ends reflected Braga’s love for British Hong Kong and his knowledge of southern China. The first issue featured articles that ranged from the history of the Tung Wah Hospital to the Chinese drinking game of chai mei (猜枚) and a short story from an Irish author.62 By flipping through the pages of Odds and Ends, readers were also informed of developments in neighboring cities. In one issue, Braga promoted The Straits Chinese Magazine, the first English-language periodical to be owned, edited and published by leading Peranakan Chinese figures. In the May 1897 issue of Odds and Ends, Mi ultimo adios (My Last Farewell), the poem that preceded José Rizal’s execution by a firing squad in late 1896 would be published for the first time in history as Mi ultimo pensamiento (My Last

57 2. 58 59 60 61 62

Braga, ‘The Rights of Aliens in the British Empire,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 30 August 1895, ‘The Alien Question,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 31 August 1895, 2. Extremo Oriente, 7 September 1895, reprinted in Braga, The Rights of Aliens, 62, 64. Reprinted in Braga, The Rights of Aliens, 66, 75–76. The magazine sold at $1 per copy and allowed readers a yearly subscription of $5. Odds and Ends 1, no. 1, November 1896.

148 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Thoughts).63 The magazine ceased publication after five issues due to the lack of readership. Odds and Ends, nevertheless, marked a groundbreaking effort in Hong Kong’s Anglophone public sphere to highlight the characteristics of Hong Kong as a city and cultivate its connections to other Asian port-cities. As the world gradually shrank through multiracial associations and inter-port connectedness in the twentieth century, Braga’s career as a Hong Kong urbanite took off. In 1919, the colonial administration appointed him Justice of the Peace along with two other Chinese elites.64 Braga was also seen working together with Britons, local Chinese elites and other Eurasian leaders to form the League of Fellowship and Service. Notably, the League was modeled after the transnational Fellowship of Reconciliation (FoR), an association aimed at spreading world peace in the aftermath of the First World War.65 The League was publicized as an all-inclusive club for ‘all races and creeds,’ class and gender, its members pledging to resolve local issues, promote a better understanding between nationalities and bridge Hong Kong with other like-minded foreign organizations and platforms.66 One of its first initiatives was a telegram to the Washington Peace Conference containing the League’s promise to spread the message of peace in Hong Kong. Living up to its claims of inclusivity, the founding committee comprised of British politician Henry Pollock, then chairman of the Chinese Chamber of Commerce Lau Chu-pak (劉鑄伯) and Eurasian elite Lo Man-kam (羅文錦). Shortly after its formation, the League reported three hundred members, of which two hundred were Europeans and one hundred were Chinese.67 Now equipped with a bigger platform, Braga took his old advocacies to the League of Fellowship. In late 1921, committee members held a meeting to discuss the organization’s main objectives. After one member suggested 63 Braga published the poem with the title Mi ultimo pensamiento (My last thoughts). Odds and Ends 1, no. 4, (May 1897), 60, 62, 67–69. 64 ‘No. 188,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 25 April 1919, 206. 65 The FoR was formed in 1914 by English Quaker, Henry Hodgkin and German Lutheran, Friedrich Siegmund-Schultze. It had branches in Europe, the United States and Shanghai. Jill Wallis, Valiant for Peace: A History of the Fellowship of Reconciliation, 1914–1989 (London: Fellowship of Reconciliation, 1991); ‘Fellowship Spirit: Shanghai also Forms a League,’ The China Mail, 11 November 1921, 5. 66 ‘World Peace, League of Fellowship Formed: Local Endeavour, Sequel to Dr. Hodgkin’s Lectures,’ The China Mail, 19 October 1921, 4. 67 The founding committee consisted of Henry Pollock (chairman), government doctor Ada Pitts, Rev. J. Kirk Maconachie, Rev. Arnold Hughes, committee member of Hong Kong General Chamber of Commerce John Owen Hughes and Mr. Anderson and J.M. Wong. ‘World Peace, League of Fellowship Formed: Local Endeavour, Sequel to Dr. Hodgkin’s Lectures,’ The China Mail, 19 October 1921, 4.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

149

‘promot[ing] good fellowship and peace between all nations,’ Braga immediately noted this was too ambitious a goal for the humble establishment. He invited members to focus instead on local issues and suggested starting a campaign for the elimination of ‘racial disabilities’ in the colony. Braga specifically referred to the Peak Reservation Ordinance, a pre-existing legislation that singled out the Peak area as a zone for European residency. He also proposed turning the League’s attention to the under privileged who he claimed were ‘crying like voices in the wilderness.’ Describing them as ‘the bottom dogs’ of Hong Kong, he questioned how people could be ‘denied a roof over their heads’ simply because they could not afford the colony’s expensive rents with their meager salaries.68 Although Braga’s pursuits were to no avail, the League decided on four main objectives, all of which reflected the propagation of internationalism amongst Hong Kong’s Anglophile publics, as well as the organization’s pursuit and deployment of universal ideas in resolving local issues. The objectives included establishing a multiracial and classless ‘international club,’ forming a Hong Kong branch of the Royal Asiatic Society and educating boys and girls alike through theaters and an industrial institute. Due to the lack of public support, the League disbanded in 1925, with 408 members, and transferred its remaining funds to two local hospitals.69 Braga’s participation in the League of Fellowship was an important diversification to the Macanese identity, marked by the consolidation of a new Anglophile and Hong Kong-oriented identity. Following his participation in the League of Fellowship, Braga’s roles in public service heightened with various appointments in public office. Between 1921 and 1929, he served as the Consul for Guatemala and was a member of the Sanitary Board. He was also elected as president of Club Lusitano.70 Braga later became a court member of the University of Hong Kong and served as vice-president of the Hong Kong Society for the Protection of Children. Wallowing in more local responsibilities, Braga would shift his focus from racial issues to district affairs. In the late 1920s, he became involved with the Kowloon Residents’ Association, a group formed in 1919 by Europeans to fight for the welfare of residents of the Kowloon district. The Hong Kong government began to take note of Braga, as seen in a conversation between Hong Kong Governor 68 ‘Racial Disabilities and the Peak Reservation, Discussed by the League of Fellowship, Official Patronage of the League Deprecated,’ Hongkong Daily Press, 13 December 1921, 3. 69 ‘Wound Up, League of Fellowship and Service, Final Meeting,’ The China Mail, 22 January 1925, 6. 70 ‘No. 525,’ 14 December 1921, The Hongkong Government Gazette, 16 December 1921, 533; ‘No. 612,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 12 November 1926, 497; Report on Sanitary Department, Hong Kong, for the Year 1927, M5.

150 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Sir Cecil Clementi and the Governor of Macau. On one occasion, Clementi told the Macau Governor that if the administration managed to increase the number of unoff icial members in the Legislative Council, the f irst vacancy would be for José Pedro Braga.71 This was realized in 1929: Clementi welcomed Braga into the Legislative Council, calling him, ‘in a very literal sense […] a son of Hong Kong.’72 Braga continued to fight for the welfare of Kowloon residents in the Legislative Council.73 In one meeting, he proposed the building of leisure facilities for policemen stationed in Kowloon and brought in the KRA’s plea for a children’s playground.74 Braga’s transition from an advocate of racial equality for all local-born aliens to a local politician who defended the rights of Kowloon residents made him an acknowledged leader of various communities. The Macanese gentlemen at Club Lusitano held a reception to celebrate his appointment in the Legislative Council, a moment that his son Jack noted ‘must have been one of the proudest’ in Braga’s life.75 He was also invited back to his alma mater, St. Joseph’s College, to celebrate his success.76 Braga’s outspoken ways and sense of justice further won him applause from local newspapers. The South China Morning Post commended his proposal to close down brothels in Yaumatei (油麻地), writing: ‘Braga deserves the thanks […] for his bold speech at the Legislative Council […] His reference to the social evil in Yaumati might have shocked some, but nevertheless he spoke the plain truth.’77 The China Mail printed a caricature of Braga with his arms perched on top of an iconic landmark of Kowloon, the Kowloon–Canton Railway and its clock tower with the caption, ‘The Hon. Mr. J.P. Braga, senior Legislative Council member for Kowloon, has the Peninsula in his grasp.’78 Just over eight decades before, when the first Macanese migrants arrived in Hong Kong looking to build a better future for themselves and their families, 71 J.M. Braga, 14 January 1929, MS 4300/1/1, J.M. Braga Papers, National Library of Australia, Canberra. 72 ‘Minutes of the Hong Kong Legislative Council,’ 24 January 1929, 2–3. 73 ‘No. 30,’ The Hongkong Government Gazette, 18 January 1929, 25. 74 ‘Police Recreation: Need of Facilities at Kowloon, Mr. Braga’s Questions,’ South China Morning Post, 2 May 1929, 6; ‘Kowloon Problems: Hon. Mr. Braga on Municipal Matters, Children’s Playground,’ South China Morning Post, 20 September 1929, 14. 75 J.M. Braga, 24 January 1929, MS 4300/1/1, J.M. Braga Papers, National Library of Australia, Canberra; ‘Hon. Mr. Braga’s Appointment: New Councillor Receives the Congratulations of his Community Reception at Club Lusitano,’ South China Morning Post, 25 January 1929, 7. 76 MS 4300 13.1/1, J.M. Braga Papers, National Library of Australia, Canberra. 77 ‘The Social Evil,’ South China Morning Post, 27 September 1929, 10. 78 For the cartoon, see The China Mail, 22 January 1929.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

151

the idea that a Macanese could become an icon of the Kowloon area would have sounded ridiculous. This was in part due to the harsh realities of racial constraints. The other side of the narrative, which is often overlooked, centers on the fact that first-generation migrants arrived in Hong Kong with a different set of aspirations and goals. While nineteenth-century migrants busied themselves with building a stable life in an unfamiliar setting, local-born Macanese subjects, particularly those from the middle class, benefitted from the efforts of their forebears. With ample educational opportunities and an upbringing in the colony, these Macanese built a stronger sense of attachment to colonial Hong Kong. For some, this evolved into a lifelong commitment to bettering the city. From a broader angle, Braga’s experience demonstrates how multiracial associational cultures and the rise of an Anglophone public sphere across Asia preluded the formation of a group of Anglicized Hong Kong publics. Owing to local and global developments, a portion of local-born Macanese like Braga integrated into Hong Kong society by the 1930s, no longer strangers as their ancestors were to the British territory.

The ‘Hongkong man’ So far, the narratives of Montalto de Jesus and José Pedro Braga have revealed identity as a personal choice inevitably shaped by external factors. In light of their experiences, a remark from Stuart Hall comes to mind: ‘Far from being eternally fixed in some essentialised past, [cultural identities] are subjects to the continuous “play” of history, culture and power.’ Hall adds that identities can be understood as ‘the names we give to the different ways we are positioned by, and position ourselves within, the narratives of the past.’79 As a diasporic community, the Macanese constantly negotiated between their old and new affiliations. This process is construed by how Leo Horácio d’Almada e Castro, the grandchild of José Maria d’Almada e Castro, explored various identities before blending into the colony’s community of Anglophile publics. Born in 1904, D’Almada received early education at the Italian Convent School and St. Joseph’s. In 1919, he passed the University of Hong Kong’s matriculation exam and entered the Faculty of Arts. After failing in his senior year, his father decided to send him to Oxford. There, he read law at Exeter College as a ‘junior colonial student’ and joined the rowing team and the debate team. Far from home yet living in the heart of the British metropole, D’Almada stood at the crossroad of cultures he once 79 Hall, ‘Cultural Identity and Diaspora,’ 225.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

151

the idea that a Macanese could become an icon of the Kowloon area would have sounded ridiculous. This was in part due to the harsh realities of racial constraints. The other side of the narrative, which is often overlooked, centers on the fact that first-generation migrants arrived in Hong Kong with a different set of aspirations and goals. While nineteenth-century migrants busied themselves with building a stable life in an unfamiliar setting, local-born Macanese subjects, particularly those from the middle class, benefitted from the efforts of their forebears. With ample educational opportunities and an upbringing in the colony, these Macanese built a stronger sense of attachment to colonial Hong Kong. For some, this evolved into a lifelong commitment to bettering the city. From a broader angle, Braga’s experience demonstrates how multiracial associational cultures and the rise of an Anglophone public sphere across Asia preluded the formation of a group of Anglicized Hong Kong publics. Owing to local and global developments, a portion of local-born Macanese like Braga integrated into Hong Kong society by the 1930s, no longer strangers as their ancestors were to the British territory.

The ‘Hongkong man’ So far, the narratives of Montalto de Jesus and José Pedro Braga have revealed identity as a personal choice inevitably shaped by external factors. In light of their experiences, a remark from Stuart Hall comes to mind: ‘Far from being eternally fixed in some essentialised past, [cultural identities] are subjects to the continuous “play” of history, culture and power.’ Hall adds that identities can be understood as ‘the names we give to the different ways we are positioned by, and position ourselves within, the narratives of the past.’79 As a diasporic community, the Macanese constantly negotiated between their old and new affiliations. This process is construed by how Leo Horácio d’Almada e Castro, the grandchild of José Maria d’Almada e Castro, explored various identities before blending into the colony’s community of Anglophile publics. Born in 1904, D’Almada received early education at the Italian Convent School and St. Joseph’s. In 1919, he passed the University of Hong Kong’s matriculation exam and entered the Faculty of Arts. After failing in his senior year, his father decided to send him to Oxford. There, he read law at Exeter College as a ‘junior colonial student’ and joined the rowing team and the debate team. Far from home yet living in the heart of the British metropole, D’Almada stood at the crossroad of cultures he once 79 Hall, ‘Cultural Identity and Diaspora,’ 225.

152 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

thought he knew. He found British people ‘not easy to get on with and too egoistic,’ preferring to socialize with Americans instead.80 Nevertheless, D’Almada kept busy with a colorful life in Oxford, highlights of which included winning the Morrel Fours with the rowing team and evenings attending tea dances with a Swiss friend. In letters to his family, he wrote about going to Grand Night at Middle Temple with distinguished guests like politician Lord Berkinhead and visiting a Macanese family in East Putney.81 While his thoughts regarding British people changed, his love for the British colony remained. D’Almada often wrote about homesickness. He constantly thought about his family home in Fanling and friends in Kowloon. Sometimes, he daydreamed about riding his Harley Davidson across Hong Kong like the old days.82 A parcel of treats such as lychees and kumquats never failed to enthuse the young man. In 1924, D’Almada and a friend visited the Wembley exhibition and stopped at the Hong Kong section where he reminisced, [The display on] Hong Kong was very interesting but this is because I know the real thing so well. The street scene was typical of any west of Yee Sang Fat’s. All that was needed to make it perfect was some dirt and a few not too clean Chinese urchins wallowing in the gutters. Part of the necessary atmosphere Peter and I supplied by swearing heartily in Chinese, much to the astonishment and admiration of a few celestials. It was here that I heard a Chinese jazz band after a lapse of nearly 2 years and it brought to mind the glare and blare of West Point in the vicinity of Whitty Street […] there is a scene depicting Hong Kong by night as seen from Kowloon or a ferry launch. As far as I can remember this is a very faithful reproduction. The Saudades it gave rise to!’

Recalling a huge relief map of Hong Kong in the exhibition, D’Almada claimed to have let his eyes ‘ride along the Tai Po Road till it reached Fanling,’ where he ‘linger[ed] for many moments’ as he thought of his family, friends and hometown.83 In addition to affirming his affection for Hong Kong, D’Almada’s stay in Europe inspired him to reflect on his Portuguese roots. Despite initially 80 ‘Letter no. 31 from Exeter College,’ 27 April 1924, Ruy Barretto Family Papers, The Girassol, Hong Kong. 81 ‘Letter no. 59,’ 19 November 1924. 82 ‘Letter no. 18 from Exeter College,’ 11 February 1924. 83 ‘Letter no. 45,’ 6 August 1924.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

153

finding Portugal an ‘intolerable’ place, he grew affectionate for the country after his fourth visit. According to his letters, it only took a fortnight to change his mind. He even wrote to his father suggesting the family move to Portugal. Of this, D’Almada argued that there was no reason to make Hong Kong ‘our home’ just because the previous generations had done so. He then made a sudden realization that his family was ‘more Portuguese’ than most in Hong Kong and warned of ‘deterioration’ from racial mixing ‘with Filipinas and others’ if they continued to live in the colony. The letter ended with a prediction that the Portuguese community would one day disappear entirely from the urban terrain of Hong Kong.84 For the next few months, D’Almada stood firm with his new realizations. In April 1926, he wrote again about a desire to ‘settle down somewhere in Europe and sever all connections with the Far East.’85 In September, Exeter College certified his completion of the final honor school of jurisprudence. Shortly after, his family asked for D’Almada’s return to Hong Kong due to financial difficulties.86 Despite his wish to spend another year in England, he willingly traveled back to the colony in 1927 upon passing his bar exams. Leo D’Almada’s changing perceptions of himself and his relationship to Hong Kong, Britain and Portugal exemplifies the incessant process of identity construction, especially showing how ethnic and cultural connections can be repositioned through imagination and experience. The practical calls of reality, however, almost always triumph in the process of identity shaping. In Hong Kong, D’Almada practiced law at the Hong Kong Bar and quickly re-integrated into life in the colony. Like other Anglophile elites, he became involved with local associations. In 1934, he led the KRA and in 1937 was appointed, at age thirty-three, the youngest person and only the second Macanese to serve as an unofficial member of the Legislative Council.87 D’Almada’s pursuits in the Council reflected his commitment to colonial Hong Kong and its under-represented residents, particularly the local-born Chinese population. In a meeting, he criticized the colonial administration for the unequal treatment of local-born men and women, defending the welfare of what he called the ‘Hongkongman.’ D’Almada urged the government to hire more ‘locals’ to public office because they deserved a chance to serve their city. When the Council discussed the 84 ‘Letter no. 100,’ 13 October 1925. 85 ‘Letter no. 130,’ 14 April 1926. 86 ‘Letter from Leonardo,’ 17 September 1926. 87 ‘KRA Annual Meeting,’ Hong Kong Daily Press, 9 March 1934, 7; ‘Mr. Leo D’Almada, Member of a Family Long Connected with Colony,’ South China Morning Post, 22 January 1937, 4.

154 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

colony’s war budget and plans for income taxation in 1939, he objected the proposal and openly expressed that he was not speaking for himself or the Macanese community. Instead, he was most concerned about the Chinese population, who would receive the biggest blow if an income tax were to be implemented.88 It should be noted that D’Almada did not fight lone battles in the Legislative Council. He worked closely with other Anglophile representatives who shared a strong sense of devotion to the colony. Rather than representing the interests of ethnic communities, they aimed at bringing the sufferings of disadvantaged Hong Kong people to the attention of the government. Under their strenuous efforts, local newspapers quickly picked up on the government’s neglect of Hong Kong-born residents—the Chinese, Europeans, Eurasians, Portuguese, Indians ‘to whom Hongkong [was] very def initely “home.”’ Calling out the lack of social welfare for local-born subjects in the report of the Imperial Economic Commission, the South China Morning Post printed: There is such a person as the Hongkong citizen, though his citizenly rights be invisible; and the report does not adequately admit his existence […] Socially and politically our Hongkong citizen is an orphan—without claim and, socially at least, without country and almost without government […] The many who now call Hongkong home would like it to be a little more homelike.89

On 29 June 1940, the War Cabinet ordered the colonial administration to issue an evacuation edict to evacuate all British women and children. A large majority of the evacuees to Australia were of European descent. Some Eurasians, marked ‘third nationals’ or ‘neutrals’ rushed to join the evacuation but were rejected for not being of ‘pure British descent.’90 Distressed by the racial inequalities surrounding this selective evacuation, D’Almada and senior unofficial member Lo Man-kam made protests at a meeting in July (Fig. 8). They asked whether the metropole was aware that Hong Kong had a large number of women and children who were not of pure European descent. Lo pointed out the policy was making taxpayers pay for the evacuation of a small portion of the colony, leaving 99.9 percent uncared 88 ‘Mr. Leo d’Almada, Opposed although Lawyers would Gain Greatly,’ South China Morning Post, 10 November 1939, 15. 89 ‘Social Services,’ South China Morning Post, 29 April 1935, 12. 90 See, for instance, the story of Eurasian Joyce Symons in Vicky Lee, Being Eurasian: Memories Across Racial Divides (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2004), 61–62.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

155

Figure 8 Report on war evacuation in The Hongkong Telegraph, July 1940

Leo D’Almada made it to the headlines of The Hongkong Telegraph (22 July 1940) for the tough questions he raised regarding the colonial government’s evacuation policy (courtesy of South China Morning Post).

for. D’Almada accused the colonial government for placing ‘an appreciable strain on the loyalty of a large section of the [local] community.’91 The local newspapers echoed the protest, printing letters from residents who expressed their concerns over ‘the ridiculous situation of a democratic government denouncing a theory of racial discrimination and at the same time putting that very theory into operation themselves.’92 Another resident blamed the colonial government for ‘seriously jeopardis[ing] the respect and love one cherish[ed] for the British Empire.’93 During this period, some Hong Kong-born Macanese women also began to explore their civic responsibilities. One of them was Clotilde ‘Tilly’ Belmira Barretto. Born in 1908 to the Hong Kong representative of a Macanese firm based in Canton, Tilly Barretto received early education in the Diocesan Girls’ School.94 She married D’Almada in 1933 and subsequently became 91 ‘Hong Kong Legislative Council Meeting Minutes,’ 25 July 1940, 100–103, 113–114. 92 R.J. Banks, ‘Evacuation Issues,’ South China Morning Post, 4 July 1941, 7. 93 B.S., ‘Racial Discrimination,’ South China Morning Post, 30 July 1940, 7. 94 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses Vol. I, 2nd ed., 525.

156 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

involved in local affairs. In 1939, Tilly headed a team of Macanese women under the British War Organisation Fund (BWOF), coordinating efforts to raise funds for England to fight the war.95 Two years later, Tilly and her sister-in-law, Gloria, passed a first aid examination and became certified nurses upon receiving the St. John Ambulance Association Certificate.96 As will be discussed in the epilogue, her service to the British colonial administration would increase during and after the war. Parallel to Braga and D’Almada, Tilly Barretto prided herself on her identity as a colonial-born Anglophile subject and maintained a strong commitment to the city, the government and its peoples. Together, these Macanese found a new level of belongingness through associational platforms that spearheaded and fostered a multiracial civil society. Far from the first-generation migrants’ vision of British Hong Kong as a second chance in life or a stopover for quick fortune, this new generation of Anglophiles perceived colonial Hong Kong as one big home and its inhabitants, regardless of skin color, as residents of the city. *** The fact that many local-born Macanese men and women knew no other home than the British colony laid the foundations of an early civil society in Hong Kong, facilitated by the proliferation of an Anglophone public sphere and transnational associational culture across Asia’s port-cities.97 While much attention has been paid to how these wider changes orchestrated the rise of anti-colonial sentiments and new national identities amongst Southeast Asian urbanites, situating Hong Kong on this page in Asian history presents us with a different narrative that reveals the rise of local-born urbanites whose ambitions and imaginations transformed the city from just another British colony to a home. Their concerns for the under-privileged Chinese population grew out of Hong Kong’s prospects as a long-term settlement and their shared desire to see the colony progress towards a more balanced and just society. Unique to the city’s developments, Hong Kong’s urbanites explored universal ideas of equality, justice and peace in addressing social issues whereas urbanites

95 Ruy Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 96 ‘Auxiliary Nurses: Successful Candidates in First Aid Examination,’ South China Morning Post, 22 July 1941, 5. 97 For Hong Kong’s early multi-ethnic civil society, see Kong, ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism.’

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

157

in other colonial port-cities traversed between ideas of nationalism and anti-colonialism. The Anglicization of the Macanese and the subsequent emergence of a civic identity paved the way for new strands of the Macanese identity to form. One factor that distinguishes twentieth-century Anglophile Macanese subjects from their nineteenth-century counterpart was their highly varied experiences in Hong Kong. For many who were born and raised in Macau, their hearts stayed in the Portuguese colony despite multiple movements to cities around the world. Though printed and published in Hong Kong, Lourenço Marques’s writings on Darwinism reflected his affinity to Macau and his sense of duty to strive for the future progress of the Macanese community. His allegiance to Macau was eventually recognized by Portugal through the honors of Comendador da Ordem de Cristo (Commander of the Order of Christ) and Cavaleiro da Ordem Militar da Torre e Espada, do Valor, Lealdade e Mérito (Knight of the Order of the Sword, of Valour, Loyalty and Merit), the latter a pinnacle of the Portuguese honors system. It would, however, be inaccurate to assume that all local-born Macanese found a strong sense of connection to Hong Kong by the twentieth century. Montalto de Jesus spent his life trying to find recognition from the Portuguese government but Braga, D’Almada and Barretto served the British colony and received honors from both the Portuguese and the British empire. Braga was appointed Comendador da Ordem de Cristo by Portugal in 1929 and awarded the Order of the British Empire in 1935. D’Almada received the Ordem de Cristo from Portugal and was granted Commander of Order of the British Empire in 1953 by the Queen. The British colonial administration appointed Tilly Barretto Justice of the Peace. In addition to constructing an unprecedented level of sociability and cooperation between local-born non-Britons, the process of Anglicization complicated the intra-communal dynamics of the Macanese. The rise of middle-class and high-profile Anglophile Macanese subjects deepened the class and cultural divisions that surfaced earlier on with the exclusivity of Club Lusitano. By the late 1920s, Hong Kong housed various strands of the Macanese, the most obvious being the Anglicized and the pro-Macau/ pro-Portuguese camps. Deviating from the general picture of solidarity amongst Hong Kong-born subjects, we will explore in the next chapter the emerging consequences of transimperial diaspora and navigate the widening split within the Macanese community.

158 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau MO/AH/AC/SA/01/09822, ‘Letter from the Secretary General.’ 14 November 1925. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/10693, ‘Auto de apreensão.’ 16 June 1926 MO/AH/AC/SA/01/10693, ‘Parecer.’ 17 January 1929. Fundação Mário Soares, Lisbon 06676.056, ‘Letter from Montalto de Jesus to Bernardino Machado.’ 21 May 1914. Library of Congress, Washington, D.C. LC-DIG-npcc-05491, ‘C.A. Montalto de Jesus, 12/7/21.’ National Library of Australia, Canberra MS 4300/1/1, J.M. Braga. 24 January 1929. MS 4300/3.8/1, ‘Jack Braga to Austin Coates.’ 18 November 1969. Ruy Barretto Family Papers, Hong Kong Barretto, Ruy. ‘Family Chronology based on Leo and Tilly d’Almada e Castro’s Documents, 1904–1996.’ D’Almada e Castro, Leo. ‘Letter from Leonardo.’ 17 September 1926. —. ‘Letter no. 100.’ 13 October 1925. —. ‘Letter no. 130.’ 14 April 1926. —. ‘Letter no. 18 from Exeter College.’ 11 February 1924. —. ‘Letter no. 31 from Exeter College.’ 27 April 1924. —. ‘Letter no. 45.’ 6 August 1924. —. ‘Letter no. 59.’ 19 November 1924. The National Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew CO 129/189, ‘Speech by Ng Choy at the Legislative Council.’ 10 September 1880. CO 129/192, ‘William Keswick to Lord Kimberley.’ 31 March 1881 CO 129/456, ‘J.M. de Castro Basto to the Colonial Secretary.’ 6 November 1919. HO 334/91/7745, ‘Naturalisation Certif icate: Antonio Hermenegildo de Senna Fernandes Basto, Certificate A7745.’ 15 March 1921.

Published primary sources ‘Hong Kong Legislative Council Meeting Minutes.’ 25 July 1940. ‘Minutes of the Hong Kong Legislative Council.’ 24 January 1929. Montalto De Jesus, C.A. Portugal e Macau: Problemas Economics e Politicos (Portugal and Macau: Economic and Political Problems). Lisbon: Rua Diario de Noticias, 1911. Report on Sanitary Department, Hong Kong, for the Year 1927.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

159

Roberts College. Distribution of Prizes at the Dalhousie Institute on the 15th March 1890. Calcutta: Catholic Orphan Press, 1890. The Architectural Journal Being the Journal of the Royal Institute of British Architects 29, no. 3 (1922).

Newspapers and magazines A Pátria, Macau Hongkong Daily Press, Hong Kong North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, Shanghai Odds and Ends, Hong Kong South China Morning Post, Hong Kong The China Mail, Hong Kong The China Press, Shanghai The Hongkong Government Gazette, Hong Kong The Hongkong Telegraph, Hong Kong

Secondary sources Amrith, Sunil S. ‘Asian Internationalism: Bandung’s Echo in a Colonial Metropolis.’ Inter-Asia Cultural Studies 6, no. 4 (2005): 557–569. Arsan, Andrew, Su Lin Lewis, and Anne-Isabelle Richard. ‘Editorial—The Roots of Global Civil Society and the Interwar Moment.’ Journal of Global History 7, no. 2 (2012): 157–165. Bayly, Christopher A. ‘The Indian Ecumene: An Indigenous Public Sphere.’ In The Book History Reader, edited by David Finkelstein and Alistair McCleery, 180–211. London: Routledge, 2002. —. Rammohun Roy and the Advent of Constitutional Liberalism in India, 1800–1830.’ Modern Intellectual History 4, no. 1 (2007): 25–41. —. Recovering Liberties: Indian Thought in the Age of Liberalism and Empire. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2011. Braga, José Pedro. The Rights of Aliens in Hong Kong: Being a Record of the Discussion Carried on Through the Medium of the Public Press as to the Employment of Aliens in the Colony. Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1895. Braga, Stuart. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. Carroll, John M. ‘A National Custom: Debating Female Servitude in Late NineteenthCentury Hong Kong.’ Modern Asian Studies 43, no. 6 (2009): 1463–1493. —. Edge of Empires: Chinese Elites and British Colonials in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2007.

160 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Chan, Catherine S. ‘Diverse Cosmopolitan Visions and Intellectual Passions: Macanese Publics in British Hong Kong.’ Modern Asian Studies (forthcoming, 2021). —. ‘Macau Martyr or Portuguese Traitor? The Macanese Communities of Macau, Hong Kong and Shanghai and the Portuguese Nation.’ Historical Research 93, no. 262 (2020): 754–768. Chatterjee, Partha. ‘Nationalism, Internationalism and Cosmopolitanism: Some Observations from Modern Indian History.’ Comparative Studies of South Asia, Africa and the Middle East 36, no. 2 (2016): 320–334. Chua Ai Lin. ‘The Domiciled Identity in Colonial Singapore: Understanding the Straits Chinese Beyond “Race,” “Nation” and “Empire.”’ In Peranakan Chinese in a Globalizing Southeast Asia, edited by Leo Suryadinata, 145–154. Singapore: Chinese Heritage Centre, Nanyang Technological University and Baba House, National University of Singapore, 2010. Coates, Austin. Rizal, Philippine Nationalist and Martyr. Hong Kong: Oxford University Press, 1968. Collini, Stefan. Public Moralists: Political Thought and Intellectual Life in Britain 1850–1930. Oxford: Clarendon Press, 1991. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vol. III. 2nd ed. Macau: Albergue SCM e Bambu– Sociedade e Artes Limitada, Macau, 2017. Frost, Mark Ravinder. ‘Transcultural Diaspora: The Straits Chinese in Singapore, 1819–1918.’ Asia Research Institute Working Paper Series, no. 10 (2003). Goh, Daniel P.S. ‘Eyes Turned towards China: Postcolonial Mimicry, Transcultural Elitism and Singapore Chineseness.’ In Race and Multiculturalism in Malaysia and Singapore, edited by Daniel P.S. Goh, Matilda Gabrielillai, Philip Holden and Gaik Cheng Khoo, 53–69. London: Routledge, 2009. Hall, John A., and Frank Trentmann. ‘Contests over Civil Society: Introductory Perspectives.’ In Civil Society: A Reader in History, Theory and Global Politics, edited by John Hall and Frank Trentmann, 1–25. Basingstoke: Palgrave, 2005. Harper, T.N. ‘Globalism and the Pursuit of Authenticity: The Making of a Diasporic Public Sphere in Singapore.’ Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 12, no. 2 (1997): 261–292. Keller, Charles A. ‘The Christian Student Movement, YMCAs, and Transnationalism in Republican China.’ Journal of American–East Asian Relations 13, no. 1 (2004): 55–80. Keo, Bernard Z. ‘Between Empire and Nation(s): The Peranakan Chinese of the Straits Settlements, 1890–1948.’ In Colonialism, China and the Chinese: Amidst Empires, edited by Peter Monteath and Matthew P. Fitzpatrick, 99–117. New York: Routledge, 2020. Kong, Vivian. ‘Exclusivity and Cosmopolitanism: Multiethnic Civil Society in Interwar Hong Kong.’ Historical Journal 63, no. 5 (2020): 1281–1302.

Macanese Publics Fight for the ‘Hongkong Man’

161

Lee, Vicky. Being Eurasian: Memories Across Racial Divides. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2004. Lees, Lynn Hollen. ‘Being British in Malaya, 1890–1940.’ Journal of British Studies 48, no. 1 (2009): 76–101. Lewis, Su Lin. ‘Rotary International’s “Acid Test:” Multi-ethnic Associational Life in 1930s Southeast Asia.’ Journal of Global History 7 (2012): 302–324. Mandal, Sumit. ‘Transethnic Solidarities, Racialization and Social Equality.’ In The State of Malaysia: Ethnicity, Equity and Reform, edited by Edmund Terence Gomez, 49–78. London: Routledge Curzon, 2004. Montalto De Jesus, C.A. A Salvação de Portugal (The Salvation of Portugal). Lisbon: Tipografía do Comércio, 1920. —. Historic Macao: International Traits in China Old and New. Macau: Salesian Printing Press and Tipografa Mercantil, 1926. —. Macau Histórico (Historic Macau). Translated by Maria Alice Morais Jorge. Macau: Livros do Oriente, 1990. Pomerantz-Zhang, Linda. Wu Tingfang (1842–1922): Reform and Modernization in Modern Chinese History. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 1992. Singh, Mohinder. ‘Spectres of the West: Negotiating a Civilizing Figure in Hindi.’ In Civilizing Emotions: Concepts in Nineteenth-Century Asia and Europe, edited by Margrit Pernau, Helge Jordheim, Orit Bashkin, Christian Bailey, Oleg Benesch, Jan Ifversen, Mana Kia, Rochona Majumdar, Angelika C. Messner, Myoung-kyu Park, Emmanuelle Saada, Mohinder Singh and Einar Wigen, 187–206. Oxford: Oxford University Press, 2015. Sinn, Elizabeth. Power and Charity: A Chinese Merchant Elite in Colonial Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2003. Smith, Carl T. Chinese Christians: Elites, Middlemen, and the Church in Hong Kong. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2005. —. ‘The Emergence of a Chinese Elite in Hong Kong.’ Journal of the Hong Kong Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society 11 (1971): 74–115. Valdemari, Elena. ‘The Influence of Liberalism in the Definition of the Idea of the Nation in India.’ La Révolution française 8 (2015). Wallis, Jill. Valiant for Peace: A History of the Fellowship of Reconciliation, 1914–1989. London: Fellowship of Reconciliation, 1991.

5

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite Abstract In line with the global obsession with nationalism, two pro-Portuguese Macanese embarked on a mission to counter the Anglicization of the Hong Kong Macanese by urging them to reconcile with their Portuguese roots. Lisbello de Jesus Xavier started the project by instigating a war-of-words with Club Lusitano over the colony’s Portuguese-language newspapers. The divide further widened as more and more Macanese moved to Kowloon during the 1900s, where more class- and gender-inclusive Portuguese institutions would emerge, one after the other. During the late 1920s, Januário de Almeida would construct an unprecedented nationalistic and inter-port platform for all Macanese through the Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong. This chapter explores the ways the Macanese renegotiated their relationship to the Portuguese empire. Keywords: diasporic nationalism, Portuguese empire, Portugueseness, print culture, Macanese, imagined communities

By the early 1900s, signs of discord were beginning to show within the community. More Macanese continued to arrive in Hong Kong for a second chance in life, only to find in the British colony a pre-existing community of Macanese who were different in identity and class status. According to the census taken in 1897, fifty-five percent of Hong Kong’s 2,263 ‘Portuguese’ population were local-born, while forty-one percent were from Macau.1 The growth of an alternative middle-class, pro-British Macanese community not only put a strain on Macanese solidarity, but it also invited old and new settlers to compete for the authority to speak for the colony’s Portuguese community. This segregation is traceable in Hong Kong’s geographical 1 The rest were subjects of ‘Portuguese’ status from other parts of Asia and Europe. ‘Report on the Census of the Colony for 1897, Laid before the Legislative Council by Command of His Excellency the Governor,’ 20 June 1897, 468.

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_ch05

164 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

terrain. A considerable portion of older settlers who were more Anglicized huddled on Hong Kong Island while newcomers formed an alternative social circle across the Victoria Harbor in the Kowloon Peninsula, which only came under British control in 1860 and remained underdeveloped until the turn of the century.2 With more and more Macanese residents settling in the Peninsula, Kowloon emerged as a breeding ground for a succession of organizations that sought to foster a Macanese consciousness based on being less British and more Portuguese. This identity would flourish through to the interwar period and evolve into a diasporic nationalism built on anti-Anglicization and a call to unite the Macanese of Macau, Hong Kong, Shanghai and Kobe under the Salazar regime. The pro-Portuguese Macanese cluster openly engaged in debate that helped solidify the rift. Across the pages of newspapers, they supported views that appealed to them, attacked what they did not agree with and squabbled over what they thought most represented Portuguese patriotism. Notably, these Macanese were not alone in their preoccupation with nationalism and other questions of identity. Elsewhere in the world, urbanites in Asia’s colonial cities, stretching from Rangoon to Singapore and Bangkok, started similar conversations. These were underpinned by print capitalism, which propelled the rise of new nationalisms and the formation of what Benedict Anderson described as ‘secular, historically clocked imagined communit[ies].’3 By writing to newspapers and magazines, anyone could participate in contributing to new rules of inclusion and exclusion. People further imagined kinship ties to writers and readers who shared the same opinion and through time, a sense of community formed simply by sitting at home reading the news. Under this atmosphere, Southeast Asian cities experienced a surge of nationhood based on anti-colonial discourses facilitated by a diasporic print culture. Siamese urbanites in Bangkok, for instance, constructed the Thai identity and Colombo’s elites used their writings to spread Ceylonese nationalism. 4 Though the Macanese in Hong Kong and Macau were never explicitly anti-colonial, they partook in the Asian project of imagining new communities. This came in the form of an alternative strand of Portugueseness based on critiquing the Anglicized 2 Certainly, the lines of distinction were not absolute and clear-cut, as some Anglicized Macanese did move to Kowloon and Anglophile Macanese like D’Almada were active in Club Lusitano, as well as other Portuguese-oriented clubs. 3 Anderson, Imagined Communities, 15, 39. 4 Frost, ‘Cosmopolitan Fragments,’ 59–69; Scott Barmé, Luang Wichit Wathakan and the Creation of a Thai Identity (Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1993); Copeland, ‘Contested Nationalism.’

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

165

Macanese and reaffirming their own status as subjects of Portugal. Some Macanese went as far as to question whether Anglicized Macanese should in fact still be considered Portuguese. For subjects straddling two or more worlds, the increase in global connectivity and preoccupation with new nationalisms translated into multilayered discourses of diasporic nationalism and transnationalism.5 This unfolded in local discussions of nationhood between Chinese and Indians vis-à-vis their situation as domiciled Chinese and Indians in colonial Singapore.6 The Germans in Shanghai, situated more than five thousand miles away from home, hailed their support of the Third Reich, as witnessed through the mirroring of Nazi racial policies in the Chinese city in 1933.7 Using Hong Kong’s inter-port print culture to respond to historical transitions beyond the colony, the Macanese demonstrated complex attachments to various contact points during the first few decades of the twentieth century. Some of the issues that contributed to the continued shaping of the Macanese identity during this period include: the demise of the Portuguese monarchy, the rise of a shaky Republic, a change of administrators in Macau and the unprecedented participation of Anglophile non-Britons in Hong Kong politics. It was through fragmented linkages to two transitional colonies and a precarious fatherland that the Macanese imagined a new Portuguese community in China. As the previous chapters have shown, being more or less Portuguese shifted with the ever-changing circumstances of the external world. Here we explore the rise of the pro-Portuguese Macanese by tracing a clash between two Macanese camps, one in the Kowloon Peninsula and the other on Hong Kong Island, connected by a sixty-minute boat trip across the harbor.

‘Kowloon Macanese’ vs. ‘Hong Kong Macanese’ In 1898, a debate took shape in the pages of O Porvir, a Portuguese-language newspaper printed in Hong Kong. The writer accused Club Lusitano of being 5 For examples of works on the complexity of diasporic identities, see Sana Aiyar, ‘Anticolonial Homelands across the Indian Ocean: The Politics of the Indian Diaspora in Kenya, ca. 1930–1950,’ The American Historical Review 116, no. 4 (2011), 988, 1012–1013; Edwards, ‘Relocating the Interlocutor.’ 6 Chua, ‘Nation, Race and Language.’ 7 Françoise Kreissler, ‘In Search of Identity: The German Community in Shanghai, 1933–1945,’ in New Frontiers: Imperialism’s New Communities in East Asia, 1842–1953, ed. Robert Bickers and Christian Henriot (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000), 211–230.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

165

Macanese and reaffirming their own status as subjects of Portugal. Some Macanese went as far as to question whether Anglicized Macanese should in fact still be considered Portuguese. For subjects straddling two or more worlds, the increase in global connectivity and preoccupation with new nationalisms translated into multilayered discourses of diasporic nationalism and transnationalism.5 This unfolded in local discussions of nationhood between Chinese and Indians vis-à-vis their situation as domiciled Chinese and Indians in colonial Singapore.6 The Germans in Shanghai, situated more than five thousand miles away from home, hailed their support of the Third Reich, as witnessed through the mirroring of Nazi racial policies in the Chinese city in 1933.7 Using Hong Kong’s inter-port print culture to respond to historical transitions beyond the colony, the Macanese demonstrated complex attachments to various contact points during the first few decades of the twentieth century. Some of the issues that contributed to the continued shaping of the Macanese identity during this period include: the demise of the Portuguese monarchy, the rise of a shaky Republic, a change of administrators in Macau and the unprecedented participation of Anglophile non-Britons in Hong Kong politics. It was through fragmented linkages to two transitional colonies and a precarious fatherland that the Macanese imagined a new Portuguese community in China. As the previous chapters have shown, being more or less Portuguese shifted with the ever-changing circumstances of the external world. Here we explore the rise of the pro-Portuguese Macanese by tracing a clash between two Macanese camps, one in the Kowloon Peninsula and the other on Hong Kong Island, connected by a sixty-minute boat trip across the harbor.

‘Kowloon Macanese’ vs. ‘Hong Kong Macanese’ In 1898, a debate took shape in the pages of O Porvir, a Portuguese-language newspaper printed in Hong Kong. The writer accused Club Lusitano of being 5 For examples of works on the complexity of diasporic identities, see Sana Aiyar, ‘Anticolonial Homelands across the Indian Ocean: The Politics of the Indian Diaspora in Kenya, ca. 1930–1950,’ The American Historical Review 116, no. 4 (2011), 988, 1012–1013; Edwards, ‘Relocating the Interlocutor.’ 6 Chua, ‘Nation, Race and Language.’ 7 Françoise Kreissler, ‘In Search of Identity: The German Community in Shanghai, 1933–1945,’ in New Frontiers: Imperialism’s New Communities in East Asia, 1842–1953, ed. Robert Bickers and Christian Henriot (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000), 211–230.

166 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

too ‘exclusive,’ ‘Anglicized,’ without ‘public character’ and long detached from Portugal. Members of Club Lusitano fought back on the pages of another newspaper, O Extremo Oriente.8 What triggered the argument was a race between Club Lusitano and a recently established Club Vasco da Gama to organize a celebration for the fourth centenary of Portuguese explorer Vasco da Gama’s voyage to India.9 The writer to O Porvir maintained that Club Lusitano was no match for Club Vasco da Gama because the former accommodated only ‘elite’ members whereas the latter had ‘a stronger national character’ and was bound to attract a larger turnout.10 The noise alerted the residents of Macau. A local newspaper, Echo Macaense, urged the two clubs to reconcile for the sake of ‘chivalry’ and ‘patriotism.’11 Underneath the two clubs’ public spat, identity and class tension was brewing between the older yet more middle-class Anglicized Macanese and the less privileged, Macau-raised newcomers who had arrived from the 1880s onwards. The colony’s Portuguese-language newspapers provided outlets for the two Macanese camps to formulate and magnify their differences: while O Porvir represented young Macanese migrants from Macau and O Extremo Oriente worked for Anglicized subjects, O Patriota was founded in 1900 with one aim— to alleviate the split.12 Reconciliation, however, was nowhere in sight. The owner of O Porvir had fanned the flames of dispute and started a public debate that would escalate over the next few decades. O Porvir’s founder, Lisbello de Jesus Xavier, was also the president of Club Vasco da Gama. Born in Macau, Xavier moved to Hong Kong in the 1880s and worked for printers Noronha & Co. and Kelly and Walsh, Ltd. before starting his own company, the Hongkong Printing Press, in 1888.13 Upset with the domination of Club Lusitano over Portuguese affairs, he set up O Porvir to criticize the colony’s middle-class and more Anglicized Macanese. The newspaper bore the slogan ‘estrictamente dedicado à propugnação do bemestar dos portugueses do Extremo Oriente’ (strictly devoted to advocating 8 De Sá, The Boys from Macau, 77. 9 The Royal Geographical Society also commemorated the event. For this, see The Geographic Journal 12, no. 1 (1898), 10–19. 10 Not much is known of Club Vasco da Gama. The earliest trace I could find dates back to 1901, to which a local newspaper reported the Club ‘held a successful smoking concert in the Club Rooms.’ The Club was located in Peel Street but appears to not have been officially registered and was not mentioned in The Directory and Chronicle for China between 1880 and 1910. For the news report, see ‘Club Vasco da Gama,’ The China Mail, 9 April 1901, 2. 11 Echo Macaense, 13 March 1898, cited in José Simões Morais, ‘Festejos de 1897 e o consul de Hong Kong,’ hojemacau, 20 July 2018. 12 King and Clarke, A Research Guide to China-coast Newspapers, 75, 76. 13 ‘Death of Prominent Portuguese,’ South China Morning Post, 21 May 1909, 7.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

167

the welfare of the Portuguese of the Far East) and Xavier pledged to speak for the ‘noble and patriotic Portuguese community without distinction of class or social position.’14 Xavier was not alone in his call. Many amongst the colony’s Macanese had grown tired of Club Lusitano’s gender- and class-exclusive rules. While Macanese gentlemen and their female escorts socialized with British officials and attended fancy balls, the rest of the Macanese population hoped for a more inclusive space to mix and mingle. The imminent need for a new Macanese social space coincided with the rapid urban development of the Kowloon Peninsula. By 1905, Kowloon had become so developed that its residents could spend their lives there, never having to step foot on Hong Kong Island again. Macanese children attended St. Mary’s Canossian College, built by the Canossian Daughters of Charity. Sunday mass took place at the Rosary Church, built in 1905 with the generosity of a Macau-born Macanese doctor who was educated in Bombay, London and Edinburgh.15 In the same year, a small Macanese co-operative savings society emerged, initially as a space for its nineteen members to gather after work for a game of cards.16 Despite the growing Macanese population, a strong sense of shared Portugueseness was not yet in place. The church offered services in two languages but Portuguese was not one of them.17 The Macanese also needed a community center for families to gather during the weekends. In 1906, the co-operative savings society was reformed into Club de Recreio, a recreational club for Macanese families and a sports organization for the Macanese youth with Lisbello Xavier as its first president. The formation of Club de Recreio marked the institutionalization of a new Macanese circle in the Kowloon Peninsula. It was new in the sense that it represented, for the first time ever, all interested Macanese men and women who identified first and foremost as ‘Portuguese’ in the British colony. Standing at the junction of Kimberley Road and Nathan Road, Club de Recreio started humbly with some billiard tables and two tennis courts.18 Owing to the growing Macanese population in the Peninsula, it soon became the Kowloon counterpart of Club Lusitano, only it was more age-, genderand class-inclusive. By the end of the decade, the Club had more members 14 De Sá, The Boys from Macau, 76. 15 Wright, Twentieth Century Impressions of Hongkong, 174. 16 ‘A Landmark in the Development of Kowloon: The Club de Recreio,’ The Rock 1, no. 3 (March 1928), 86; C.A. da Roza and J.M. da Rocha, ‘Shall We Remain Divided?’ A Comunidade 2, no. 11, May 1936, 3–5. 17 ‘Rosary Church, Kowloon,’ South China Morning Post, 20 April 1908, 2. 18 Da Silva and Pacheco, The Portuguese Community, 43.

168 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

than its premises could hold, prompting its move to a bigger clubhouse at Nathan Road. The new clubhouse boasted an area of 70,000 square feet, with dressing rooms for men and women, as well as three tennis courts, two of which were grass and one cement.19 Next to Club de Recreio stood the Little Flower Club, a Catholic charitable club for women.20 The Little Flower Club started in a little room in the rectory of the Hong Kong Catholic Cathedral on Hong Kong Island, but eventually moved across the harbor. Together, these two clubs generated a spirited Macanese communal life in Kowloon.21 A local newspaper described the festive enthusiasm enveloping the Kowloon Macanese on Christmas in 1910: After the midnight service at the Kowloon R.C. Church, the members of the Club de Recreio will have supper at the Club. This will be followed by a few dances. On Boxing Day a Christmas tree for the Portuguese children of the Colony will be on view on the grounds, while there will be sports and other pastimes to fill up the afternoon.22

The opening of Kowloon provided the space for the birth of a long-anticipated Macanese associational circle away from Club Lusitano, which had lost its appeal due to its exclusivity and buttoned-up culture. Macanese newcomers searched for a space where they could more casually socialize, ideally with families sharing a stronger connection to Macau and Portuguese culture. Club de Recreio became the answer. As against Club Lusitano’s traditions of inviting British government officials to events, Club de Recreio inaugurated under the presence of the Portuguese Consul General whose wife, Madame Leiria, had the honor of giving a short speech and opening the premises of the club with a silver key. The Sociedade Philharmonica performed the Kingdom of Portugal’s anthem, ‘Hymno da Carta,’ striking a huge contrast with Club Lusitano’s tradition of incorporating ‘God Save the Queen’ into its formal events. Father Spada, the Italian Reverend of the Rosary Church, conducted a Catholic religious ceremony to bless the club’s opening. In contrast to Club Lusitano’s lavish decorations, the club displayed a blue-and-white flag made by ‘the Portuguese ladies of Kowloon’ that resembled the colors of the Portuguese monarchy.23 Moreover, Club de Recreio presented an alternative 19 ‘Club de Recreio: Inauguration Ceremony,’ South China Morning Post, 31 January 1910, 2. 20 Its founding members were Hedewiges da Silva, Bertha Vaz Baretto, Aurea Baptista and Dona Reca. 21 Da Silva and Pacheco, The Portuguese Community, 45. 22 ‘Monday’s Events,’ South China Morning Post, 24 December 1910, 7. 23 ‘Club de Recreio: Inauguration Ceremony.’

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

169

space for the selective adoption of Portuguese markers. When Portugal turned Republican in 1910, its members debated on whether to change the flag to red and green to match the bandeira de Portugal. It was eventually decided in a general meeting that the old flag would be kept as a remembrance of and a sign of sympathy towards the monarchy.24 The differing practices of Club Lusitano and Club de Recreio show the construction of different versions of Portugueseness in British Hong Kong. Club de Recreio was a blend of old and new Portuguese markers with a strong local and inter-port presence in sports and family recreation.25 It did not adopt the British club culture that members of Club Lusitano took pride in, seeking instead to build a community that openly identified with Portuguese culture and Catholicism. The club welcomed the participation of Macanese sports aficionados and families residing in Kowloon. There were, nonetheless, some exceptions: Father Spada, for instance, was a member until he departed for a new mission in China.26 By 1911, the Portuguese population of Hong Kong numbered over two thousand. Four hundred and ninety resided in Kowloon, nearly three times the number of Macanese in the Peninsula just a decade earlier.27 Picking up on the trend of movement across the harbor, a local news reported that ‘there [had] been a steady flow of Portuguese families from Hongkong into Kowloon, so much that the community on the other side to-day is a large one.’28 With a ballooning community, initiatives linked to Macanese welfare subsequently emerged in Kowloon. In 1915, Francisco Paulo de Vasconcelos Soares established the Associação Portugûesa de Socorros Mutuos (Portuguese Association for Mutual Assistance) to help the needy, in particular schoolchildren and widowed and unemployed persons of ‘Portuguese nationality, parentage or descent.’29 The Associação began 24 Da Silva and Pacheco, The Portuguese Community, 45. 25 For examples, see ‘Hongkong Tennis League,’ South China Morning Post, 20 May 1912, 10; ‘Hongkong Tennis League: Y.M.C.A. Beat Club de Recreio,’ South China Morning Post, 6 May 1912, 11; ‘League Tennis: Club de Recreio v. Chinese Y.M.C.A.,’ South China Morning Post, 19 June 1912, 10; ‘To-day’s Sports,’ South China Morning Post, 29 June 1912, 13. 26 ‘Farewell to Father Spada: Presentations at Club de Recreio,’ South China Morning Post, 10 March 1913, 6. 27 The majority of the Macanese, which totaled 2,059, continued to live in Victoria. In 1901, there were only 126 Macanese residents in Kowloon. Hongkong Blue Book for the Year 1911 (Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1912), N1; Hong Kong Blue Book for the Year 1901 (Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1902), M2. 28 ‘Hongkong’s Middle Class: The Demand for Cheaper Houses,’ South China Morning Post, 11 December 1912, 7. 29 Soares was a businessman who would later invest on developing the Kowloon suburb of Homantin (何文田), earning him the title ‘Father of Homantin.’ The Soares Avenue, Emma Avenue and Julia Avenue to the east of Victory Avenue were named after his family name and

170 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

with 423 members and quickly evolved into an important organization supporting the lower-class Macanese through scholarships and school funds for Macanese children. Joining the string of new Macanese institutions in Kowloon, the Associação contributed to early projects aimed at the cultivation of Portuguese culture amongst the youth. It addressed in particular the younger generation’s lack of opportunities to train in the Portuguese language. Where they were available, Hong Kong’s schools only provided elementary Portuguese-language classes, not to mention that an increasing number of Macanese families preferred their children to master the English language for practical reasons. The Associação therefore set up the Escola de Portugues (School of Portuguese) and provided subsidized Portuguese-language courses in place of Portuguese-language classes that had been discontinued in local schools due to low enrolment.30 The Macanese in Kowloon grew so attached to the Peninsula that they refused to participate in a housing scheme because it was situated on Hong Kong Island. In 1919, a Cornish businessman and member of the two Councils, Charles Montague Ede, developed a housing scheme titled the ‘Portuguese Reservation Area.’31 The Macanese initially welcomed the idea, but that was when Ede proposed construction in the Kowloon area of King’s Park, Homantin (何文田).32 Following a change of plans, he decided to relocate the scheme to the plateau above Soo-kon-poo (掃桿埔) Valley in the south side of Causeway Bay.33 Then Club de Recreio president, Pedro Botelho, immediately withdrew the club’s application with a short note, reading, ‘You appreciate the Club would not be interested in any property which is situated outside of Kowloon.’34 Other Macanese living in Kowloon echoed Botelho’s concerns and subsequently pulled out of the scheme. In a the first names of his wife and daughter. For Soares, see J. Bosco Correa, ‘Francisco Paulo de Vasconcelos Soares,’ Macaneselibrary, 2016. 30 Vicente Ferrer Soares, ‘Report for 1929,’ 31 December 1929, 3 September 1930, VI-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archives, Hong Kong. 31 This housing scheme was first proposed by Charles Montague Ede in 1912. In a letter to the government, Ede wrote that the matter of housing for the Macanese was ‘an urgent one’ and petitioned for the government to forward his proposal to the Secretary of State for a piece of land at the back of Wong Nai Chung (黃泥涌) in Wanchai. For this, see C. Montague Ede, ‘To Governor Frederick Lugard,’ 1 March 1912, CO 129/408, The National Archives, London. 32 For a list of applications to the Housing Scheme, see MS 4300 13.1/2, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 33 C. Montague Ede, ‘Housing Scheme, Memorandum by Mr. C. Montague Ede,’ 17 April 1919, MS 4300 13.1/2, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 34 Pedro Botelho, ‘To J.P. Braga,’ 15 April 1919, MS 4300 13.1/2, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

171

memorandum, Ede observed, ‘It is only natural that the present residents of Kowloon who have settled, so to speak, with their families, relatives and friends at Kowloon should not readily regard with favour a return to the Island.’ He added that those who had yet to make the move to the Kowloon Peninsula, ‘for the most part, [did] not object to the new site.’35 The housing scheme did not push through and Ede redeveloped his plans, this time with success, in Kowloon Tong during the early 1920s. Further complicating the co-existence of various strands of the Macanese identity in Hong Kong, the Kowloon Peninsula carved new space for the construction of an alternative circle marked by more inclusive institutions and a new sense of belonging to the Kowloon district. When a large-scale Chinese workers’ strike brought the Peninsula to a standstill in 1922, around forty Macanese men from Homantin volunteered to serve as special constables for the Kowloon district.36 Kowloon gradually became the base for the pro-Portuguese Macanese camp that Lisbello Xavier tried to foster through O Porvir two decades earlier. The geographical segregation of the two islands also guaranteed that Macanese residents in Kowloon had little contact with those on Hong Kong Island. In fact, some Macanese spent a chunk of their lives never making the commute to the other side of Hong Kong. Cassiano Dias Azedo, a prominent leader of the postwar Macanese community, recalled the first time he met his wife Lucy Heloisa Jorge at the Kowloon Rosary Church in the 1930s as, ‘I was a Hong Kong boy and she was a Kowloon girl. Until she met me, she had never set foot on Hong Kong side.’37 Diasporic communities often embrace identities that encompass racial origins and legal and civic affiliations linked to previous settlements. In the hostland, new networks are created while old statuses are reworked and reimagined. Diasporic identities are highly complex, particularly because taking on new roles does not automatically erase old attachments. During the nineteenth century, British Hong Kong provided the space for members of Club Lusitano to publicly kindle their ancestors’ relationship to Portugal for the sake of mingling with the colony’s bourgeois communities and establishing the middle-class institution as Hong Kong’s leading Portuguese organization. Despite being openly Anglicized in various aspects, Club Lusitano continued to serve as a leading Portuguese club. Its position was put into question by the turn of the century with the emergence of Kowloon’s 35 C. Montague Ede, ‘Housing Scheme,’ MS 4300 13.1/2. 36 ‘From the Editor’s Chair,’ The Rock 2, no. 10 (July 1922), 336. 37 Cassiano Dias Azedo, ‘Cassiano Dias Azedo,’ South China Morning Post, 23 June 2003.

172 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

new Macanese circle. Separated by the Victoria harbor and differing cultural orientations, these two communities represented multilayered and overlapping arenas.38 They helped shape Macanese discourses based on differing levels of association to Portugal as a pátria, of Macau as an ancestral home and of Hong Kong as a city that some saw as a hostland but others claimed as a home. These differences would deepen in the next two decades, incited by the global obsession with new nationalisms.

Nationalizing the ‘Portuguese of the East’ In 1902, Luíz Gonzaga Nolasco da Silva wrote a letter of protest against the tightening of press censorship in Macau. Nolasco was a Coimbra-educated barrister and the son of prominent Macau politician and Sinologist, Pedro Nolasco da Silva. Amidst the protest, the barrister penned his admiration for Hong Kong, which he perceived as a liberal space that allowed feelings of patriotism to nurture. Nolasco argued that in Hong Kong, as in all British territories, people breathed the air of liberty, whereas in Macau and throughout the Portuguese territories, the habits of arbitrariness and intolerance were suffocating its people.39 The different ways the scattered Macanese communities responded to Macau’s press censorship amply reflects the complicated diversification of the Macanese. In Hong Kong, Macau-born Agostinho Guilherme Romano, then president of Club Lusitano and Consul General for Portugal, asked the public to boycott celebrations of the Portuguese King’s birthday as a sign of protest. In Macau, the celebration proceeded but without the fervor of previous years. One newspaper reported that ‘The festivities fell flat […] and the usual concourse of eager holiday-seekers and participators in the national feast was minus the large majority of the Macaense element.’40 Untouched by the developments in Macau, Shanghai’s Macanese celebrated with a reception at the Consulate and ‘rejoic[ed] on a large scale at the Portuguese Club.’41 Romano’s suggestion was not warmly received by the members of Club Lusitano. After a discussion, members expressed their refusal to cancel the 38 For works on multiple and overlapping public spheres, see Michael Warner, Publics and Counterpublics (Brooklyn: Zone Books, 2000); Harper, ‘Globalism’; Lewis, Cities in Motion, 96. 39 Luiz Nolasco da Silva, ‘Carta aberta ao sr. Ministro da Marinha e Ultramar’ (Open Letter to Mr. Minister of the Navy and Overseas), O Patriota, 17 December 1902, 94. 40 ‘Macao’s Indignation, The Birthday of its King,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 29 September 1902, 5. 41 ‘News from East Asia,’ The North China Herald, 1 October 1902, 670.

172 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

new Macanese circle. Separated by the Victoria harbor and differing cultural orientations, these two communities represented multilayered and overlapping arenas.38 They helped shape Macanese discourses based on differing levels of association to Portugal as a pátria, of Macau as an ancestral home and of Hong Kong as a city that some saw as a hostland but others claimed as a home. These differences would deepen in the next two decades, incited by the global obsession with new nationalisms.

Nationalizing the ‘Portuguese of the East’ In 1902, Luíz Gonzaga Nolasco da Silva wrote a letter of protest against the tightening of press censorship in Macau. Nolasco was a Coimbra-educated barrister and the son of prominent Macau politician and Sinologist, Pedro Nolasco da Silva. Amidst the protest, the barrister penned his admiration for Hong Kong, which he perceived as a liberal space that allowed feelings of patriotism to nurture. Nolasco argued that in Hong Kong, as in all British territories, people breathed the air of liberty, whereas in Macau and throughout the Portuguese territories, the habits of arbitrariness and intolerance were suffocating its people.39 The different ways the scattered Macanese communities responded to Macau’s press censorship amply reflects the complicated diversification of the Macanese. In Hong Kong, Macau-born Agostinho Guilherme Romano, then president of Club Lusitano and Consul General for Portugal, asked the public to boycott celebrations of the Portuguese King’s birthday as a sign of protest. In Macau, the celebration proceeded but without the fervor of previous years. One newspaper reported that ‘The festivities fell flat […] and the usual concourse of eager holiday-seekers and participators in the national feast was minus the large majority of the Macaense element.’40 Untouched by the developments in Macau, Shanghai’s Macanese celebrated with a reception at the Consulate and ‘rejoic[ed] on a large scale at the Portuguese Club.’41 Romano’s suggestion was not warmly received by the members of Club Lusitano. After a discussion, members expressed their refusal to cancel the 38 For works on multiple and overlapping public spheres, see Michael Warner, Publics and Counterpublics (Brooklyn: Zone Books, 2000); Harper, ‘Globalism’; Lewis, Cities in Motion, 96. 39 Luiz Nolasco da Silva, ‘Carta aberta ao sr. Ministro da Marinha e Ultramar’ (Open Letter to Mr. Minister of the Navy and Overseas), O Patriota, 17 December 1902, 94. 40 ‘Macao’s Indignation, The Birthday of its King,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 29 September 1902, 5. 41 ‘News from East Asia,’ The North China Herald, 1 October 1902, 670.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

173

celebrations, prompting Romano to resign from his position as president of the club. 42 A local newspaper revealed that the Consul General eventually ‘held an “at home”’ celebration and there was no mention of an event at Club Lusitano.43 Shortly thereafter, news of the celebrations, or non-celebrations, reached the metropole. The absence of a celebration in Hong Kong angered Portuguese administrators. When Portuguese ambassador J. D’Azevedo Castello Branco visited Hong Kong in November, he intentionally skipped Club Lusitano’s reception as a punishment for their disrespecting the Portuguese monarch. The club published a letter of regret in O Patriota, declaring its members’ loyalty to Portugal and criticizing Romano for publicly proposing an idea without the endorsement of other club members. 44 A few years later in 1903, Romano was forced to retire from the club due to another dispute. His exit prompted senior naval and military officers to boycott the club. Club Lusitano’s status as a leading Portuguese institution quickly dwindled and in 1907, shareholders petitioned to wind up the club in an incident a local press reported as ‘washing dirty linen.’45 The club survived the storm, but its constant intricacy with petty arguments left a bad taste in the mouths of many Macanese residents. The varying responses made to the tightening of press censorship in Macau highlights the overlapping connectedness and divergence between the Macanese communities of Hong Kong, Macau and Shanghai, particularly with regards to their attachment to the Macau government and the pátria. By the early twentieth century, Macanese communities can be found propagating across East Asia. In 1900, 978 ‘Portuguese’ resided in Shanghai’s International Settlement, with another thirty-five in the French Concession. 46 A small cluster of seventy had settled down in Kobe and 1,956 were living in Hong Kong in 1901. 47 The divergence between these communities began to surface, instigating a sense of crisis over the solidarity of the Macanese. One newspaper questioned the future of the ‘Macanese race.’ With the title ‘O futuro dos Macaenses’ (The Future of the Macanese), the 42 May Holdsworth and Christopher Munn (eds.), Dictionary of Hong Kong Biography (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2012), 375. 43 ‘Local and General,’ The Hongkong Telegraph, 29 September 1902, 4. 44 ‘Recepção Ministro, o Exmo. Sr. José d’Azevedo Castello Branco, frustrada por motivos imprevistos’ (Reception for Minister, the Hon. Mr. José d’Azevedo Castello Branco, Stopped for Unforeseen Reason),’ O Patriota, 5 November 1902, 70–71. 45 ‘Club Lusitano Case: “Washing Dirty Linen:” Petition for Winding Up and Strong Opposition,’ South China Morning Post, 5 January 1907, 2. 46 Wang Zhicheng, Portuguese in Shanghai (Macau: Fundação Macau, 2004), 9. 47 Directory and Chronicle 1904 (Hong Kong: Hongkong Daily Press, 1904), 71; Hongkong Blue Book for the Year 1901, M2.

174 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

article asked readers to imagine ‘O que serão os Macaenses?’ (What will the Macanese be like?).48 The problem of a waning solidarity would become imminent in the next two decades, tied with the rise of Portuguese diasporic nationalism and marked by unprecedented attempts to unite the Macanese under the Portuguese flag. Notably, the rise of diasporic nationalism in Macau and Hong Kong coincided with political instability in the metropole. Portugal saw the rise of a counter-revolutionary Lusitanian Integralism and the intensification of factional divisions. 49 The nation’s vulnerability reverberated across the empire. In Goa, disappointment over the First Republic’s failure stimulated Catholics and Hindus, as well as forces in Lisbon and Goa, to work together in promoting a transnational anti-colonial movement in Portuguese India that would evolve into discourses of Goan self-determination.50 The Macanese joined the bandwagon of new nationalisms, yet they were more concerned with reviving cultural connections to Portugal for the preservation of the Macanese. The first of these attempts came in 1923. Macau’s new Governor, Rodrigo José Rodrigues, nicknamed Róró by Macau’s residents, initiated ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente’ (Home of the Portuguese in the East). On March 15, the Boletim Oficial formally announced the project, informing the public of the government’s intention to develop the ‘national spirit’ of the Macanese diaspora by encouraging the teaching and learning of the Portuguese language and strengthening their ties to Portuguese Macau. Guarded by twelve articles, ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente’ was meant to serve as the center of all matters Macanese in East Asia. It aimed at facilitating mutual aid between the Macanese dispersed in Hong Kong, Shanghai and Canton under the leadership of the Macau government. As the different Macanese responses to Macau’s social woes in 1902 revealed, the existing Macanese associations in China’s cities independently made their own decisions and had disagreements regarding issues related to Portugal and Macau. ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente’ was created to bring existing Macanese institutions together under the Macau government’s leadership. The city would be in charge of printing propaganda and was to house a community center that would accommodate 48 ‘O futuro dos Macaenses’ (The Future of the Macanese), O Patriota, 28 January 1903, 1. 49 Formed by young thinkers, Lusitanian Integralism was a counter-revolutionary movement that advocated traditionalism and supported the restoration of monarchical rule. For Portugal’s political development, see Tom Gallagher, Portugal: A Twentieth-Century Interpretation (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1983), 30–36. 50 For this, see Sandra Atáie Lobo, ‘The Languages of the Goan Periodical Press, 1820–1933,’ in Media and the Portuguese Empire, ed. José Lúis Garcia, Chandrika Kaul, Filipa Subtil and Alexandra Santos (New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017), 78.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

175

all Macanese subjects regardless of where they lived. Macau, in short, was to become the ‘home away from home’ for the Macanese diaspora. One important facet of the project was the promotion of Portuguese culture. To make the Macanese feel more connected to the pátria, they needed to learn the Portuguese language and familiarize themselves with Portugal’s history. A number of plans were proposed to achieve this end, including the establishment of a boarding school for boys and a school for girls aged six to fifteen.51 Róró further proposed providing a subsidy of 1,000 escudos to a Portuguese school in Hong Kong and 3,000 escudos to the Colégio de Santa Rosa de Lima in Macau. To existing Macanese institutions, he proposed providing funds for the Escola de Portugues, 177,000 patacas to support Club Lusitano’s renovation works and subsidies to set up the ‘casa da comunidade Portuguesa’ (home of the Portuguese community) in Shanghai. In addition to education, the Governor also sought to promote Portuguese literature in Macau. He was, as historian Manuel Texeira revealed, ‘an ardent patriot and Camões enthusiast.’52 Róró declared 10 June Macau’s ‘Camões day,’ in line with Portugal’s national commemoration of the legendary poet’s death anniversary. In 1923, the Macau government held a public event attended by the Governor, students and military men at the Camões Grotto. According to a local news report, Governor Róró was so overcome with emotions that he burst into tears in the middle of his speech.53 The humble celebration of 1923 turned into a lavish public celebration in the next year. The Boletim Eclesiástico da Diocese de Macau (Ecclesiastic Bulletin of the Diocese of Macau) described it thus: June 10th was a truly festive day in Macau. The city dressed in gala and its inhabitants, with enthusiasm and purest love for the fatherland, rushed to cover the legend’s bust with flowers. At ten in the morning, it was already difficult to push through the compact crowd, with everyone dressed up and facing the bust of the immortal poet. The army, civil servants, public and private schools, with their respective flags and many others gathered when the national flag was hoisted over the Grotto, accompanied by twenty-one shots from the Monte Fort. The pilgrimage to the Grotto continued throughout the day. 51 ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente,’ Boletim Oficial do Governor da Provincia de Macau, no. 10, 15 March 1923, 192–194. 52 ‘Comemoração em Macau do aniversário da morte de Luís de Camões’ (Commemoration of the death anniversary of Luís de Camões in Macao), 7 June 1923, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/09017, Arquivo Histórico de Macau; Padre Manuel Texeira, A Gruta de Camões em Macau (The Camões Grotto in Macau) (Macau: Fundação Macau e Instituto Internacional de Macau, 1999), 67–68. 53 O Liberal, 17 June 1923.

176 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

At nine thirty in the evening, a solemn closing ceremony attended by government officials and church representatives was held at the Leal Senado. Father António José Gomes recited a patriotic poem he had written to commemorate the quatercentenary of Camões’s birth.54 Entitled Homenagem a Camões (Tribute to Camões), the poem opened with a vivid image of Macau as one of Camões’s favorite cities and ended with a call to revive the glory of Portugal. Róró had further plans of printing and disseminating propaganda in gaining Macanese support of the Republican government, allocating 75,000 escudos to set up the ‘propaganda do lusitanismo no oriente’ (propaganda of Lusitanism in the east).55 In that very year, the Governor left his position to join the Geneva Opium Conference and subsequently became the secretary of the Portuguese delegation at the League of Nations in 1925. His departure marked the demise of ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente.’ General records between 1925 and 1934 did not show Macau celebrating Camões day as it had during Rodrigues’s governorship.56 The project, nonetheless, opened the floodgates to a wider and more radical inter-port debate concerning the absence of Macanese solidarity and Portuguese patriotism in East Asia. What the Macanese needed was another leader to tie it all together.

Contesting Macanese patriotism Not long after he left Macau, Rodrigues joined a conference in Bombay where he reiterated his concerns for the Portuguese in Asia. He highlighted that those in Bombay, Singapore and Hong Kong had lost touch with the Portuguese tongue and asked for solutions to this problem.57 Rodrigues’s worry exposed the transforming identities of the Macanese communities and awakened them to the fact that after half a century of diasporic movement, the Macanese had become a diverse community no longer grounded by their Macau and Portuguese roots. They were eager to discuss the problem, writing to Macau’s local newspapers to share their thoughts. One article in Macau’s A Pátria suggested 54 This was translated from Portuguese. Boletim Eclesiástico da Diocese XXII, no. 253 (1924), 94–95. 55 ‘Proposta n° 11’ (Proposal no. 11), Boletim Oficial do Governor da Provincia de Macau, no. 10, 15 March 1923, 192–193. 56 In looking for traces of Camões day in Macao, I checked the Boletim Oficial and the newspaper, A Patría, but nothing relevant were found in 1925 and 1926. The next official celebration was dated 1935. For this, see ‘Comemorações do “Dia de Camões”’ (Commemoration of ‘Camões Day’), MO/AH/AC/SA/01/15491, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. 57 ‘Uma conferéncia sóbre Macau pelo Dr. Rodrigo Rodrigues’ (A Conference on Macao by Dr. Rodrigo Rodrigues), A Pátria, 4 July 1925, 18.

176 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

At nine thirty in the evening, a solemn closing ceremony attended by government officials and church representatives was held at the Leal Senado. Father António José Gomes recited a patriotic poem he had written to commemorate the quatercentenary of Camões’s birth.54 Entitled Homenagem a Camões (Tribute to Camões), the poem opened with a vivid image of Macau as one of Camões’s favorite cities and ended with a call to revive the glory of Portugal. Róró had further plans of printing and disseminating propaganda in gaining Macanese support of the Republican government, allocating 75,000 escudos to set up the ‘propaganda do lusitanismo no oriente’ (propaganda of Lusitanism in the east).55 In that very year, the Governor left his position to join the Geneva Opium Conference and subsequently became the secretary of the Portuguese delegation at the League of Nations in 1925. His departure marked the demise of ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente.’ General records between 1925 and 1934 did not show Macau celebrating Camões day as it had during Rodrigues’s governorship.56 The project, nonetheless, opened the floodgates to a wider and more radical inter-port debate concerning the absence of Macanese solidarity and Portuguese patriotism in East Asia. What the Macanese needed was another leader to tie it all together.

Contesting Macanese patriotism Not long after he left Macau, Rodrigues joined a conference in Bombay where he reiterated his concerns for the Portuguese in Asia. He highlighted that those in Bombay, Singapore and Hong Kong had lost touch with the Portuguese tongue and asked for solutions to this problem.57 Rodrigues’s worry exposed the transforming identities of the Macanese communities and awakened them to the fact that after half a century of diasporic movement, the Macanese had become a diverse community no longer grounded by their Macau and Portuguese roots. They were eager to discuss the problem, writing to Macau’s local newspapers to share their thoughts. One article in Macau’s A Pátria suggested 54 This was translated from Portuguese. Boletim Eclesiástico da Diocese XXII, no. 253 (1924), 94–95. 55 ‘Proposta n° 11’ (Proposal no. 11), Boletim Oficial do Governor da Provincia de Macau, no. 10, 15 March 1923, 192–193. 56 In looking for traces of Camões day in Macao, I checked the Boletim Oficial and the newspaper, A Patría, but nothing relevant were found in 1925 and 1926. The next official celebration was dated 1935. For this, see ‘Comemorações do “Dia de Camões”’ (Commemoration of ‘Camões Day’), MO/AH/AC/SA/01/15491, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. 57 ‘Uma conferéncia sóbre Macau pelo Dr. Rodrigo Rodrigues’ (A Conference on Macao by Dr. Rodrigo Rodrigues), A Pátria, 4 July 1925, 18.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

177

strengthening the teaching and learning of the Portuguese language, which it saw as a crucial ground for the cultivation of patriotism.58 Another article, entitled ‘Unamo-nos!’ (Let Us Unite!), revived the issue of Anglicization of Hong Kong’s Macanese. The writer observed that Anglicization was inevitable due to the practicality of learning the English language in a British colony but condemned it as a reason for the detachment of Hong Kong’s Macanese from Portuguese affairs and for causing conflict between the two Macanese camps in Hong Kong.59 While class differences had earlier on served as a major factor in dividing Hong Kong’s Macanese, the interwar years saw the channeling of cultural differences into questions of nationalism and betrayal. British Hong Kong was seen as a vital breeding ground for Macanese disunity. Montalto de Jesus blamed the failure of ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente’ on the ‘systematic neglect of national interest’ caused by Hong Kong-born Portuguese subjects who registered as British subjects for business purposes. He described the phenomenon as a case of denationalization, rooted in ‘old, deep-seated resentment’ towards Portugal and newfound associations to the British colony.60 When Montalto himself became entangled with the scandal of Historic Macao, the debates that ensued revealed the differing relationships that the Macanese communities fostered, albeit in imagination, to Portugal. The Macau Macanese heavily criticized Historic Macao as a misleading depiction of the community as ungrateful renegades. One reader wrote to a Macau newspaper to emphasize the patriotism of the Macanese, adding that the majority was ready to shed blood in Portugal’s defense.61 In Hong Kong, a reader under the initials ‘C.J.J.’ wrote to the South China Morning Post to criticize De Jesus for acknowledging ‘that the Macaenses have a profound love of their [Macao] home’ but ignoring that ‘all Macaenses [were] proud of their Portuguese nationality.’ C.J.J. maintained that only those who ‘lacked all patriotism’ would suggest placing Macau under the League of Nations.62 Another strand of the debate in Hong Kong saw an outburst of support and sympathy for the Macanese author. One reader, H.M. Silva, commended Historic Macao with the following: The author is not only au fait with the subject he is dealing, but every page of his book is redolent with a patriotic fervour in which there is a 58 59 60 61 62

‘Propaganda da Língua’ (Language Propaganda), A Pátria, 25 July 1925, 1. ‘Unamo-nos!’ (Let Us Unite!), A Pátria, 13 June 1925, 1. Montalto De Jesus, Historic Macao, 481–482. ‘Historic Macao,’ A Pátria, 17 June 1926, 1. ‘Correspondence: Historic Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 19 June 1926, 10.

178 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

blending of both the esprit de patrie and the dramatic. Historic Macao is a vindication of the Macanese. With a great tact it drives home the fact that whether a Portuguese is born in Portugal or Asia, he is still a Portuguese for all that. Macao is only a small gem in the diadem of Portugal, but its people are Portuguese in thought, life and soul.63

Another reader, using the name ‘A True Macaense,’ extended a ‘hearty shake-hands for the brilliant and patriotic “Historic Macao.”’64 In Shanghai, the debate peaked in mid-1928. Unlike the dominating voices of criticism in Macau, or the mixed sentiments in Hong Kong, a debate between foreign settlers and Macanese residents unfolded in the International Settlement. J.A. Jackson, an hotelier and friend of De Jesus’s, saluted Montalto’s ‘great moral courage.’65 This was countered by ‘A Portuguese’ who commented that Montalto deserved his punishment for committing an act of ‘libel and malice’ to the Portuguese name.66 A Macanese jurist further called Jackson’s letter ‘a very unfortunate piece of work.’67 For months, writers contributing to these two strands of debate tirelessly wrestled with each other over the newspapers in Macau, Hong Kong and Shanghai. So much that one reader, after presenting their ideas, hoped that his or hers would be the last letter on Montalto de Jesus and Historic Macao.68 The debate on Historic Macao was only the beginning to a chain of nationalistic debates on what it meant for the Macanese to be Portuguese. More often than not, all eyes were on Hong Kong where the gravest deterioration of the Portuguese identity seemed to be taking place. In 1927, the establishment of the Portuguese Company of the Hongkong Volunteer Defence Corps triggered a new air of anxiety over the further denationalization of the Macanese. In accordance with the provisions of the Hongkong Volunteer Defence Ordinance of 1920, all volunteers of the British auxiliary military force had to take an oath of allegiance to King 63 H.M. Silva, ‘“Historic Macao”: A Reader’s Review of Mr. Montalto’s Book,’ South China Morning Post, 25 June 1926, 12. 64 A True Macaense, ‘Historic Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 26 June 1926, 12. 65 J.A. Jackson, ‘A. Montalto de Jesus,’ The North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 12 May 1928, 238. 66 A Portuguese, ‘A. Montalto de Jesus,’ The North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 19 May 1928, 281. 67 C.J. Machado, ‘Letter to the Editor,’ The North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 12 May 1928, 238. 68 Another Macanese, ‘To Changlu Mo,’ The China Press, 22 May 1928, 4.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

179

George.69 Macanese residents speculated on whether the seventy or so registered volunteers had forfeited their Portuguese status to join the volunteer corps.70 The Portuguese Consul General quickly clarified that the Portuguese Company was not a ‘national unit’ sponsored by Portugal and described the volunteers as ‘members of the British community of Portuguese descent,’ leaving the question of national status unanswered.71 Macanese readers suspected the Portuguese Consul General had intended to discourage Portuguese youth from volunteering; one asked the Macanese youth to apply for permission from the Consul first to secure their Portuguese status.72 A few months later, the Portuguese Consul General released another statement that f inally put a stop to speculations. He announced that all ‘Portuguese’ enlisted in the Portuguese Company would not be regarded as having renounced their Portuguese nationality and the Portuguese Consul would not, in any way, question their status as Portuguese subjects.73 For diasporic communities, an extensive web of transnational connections and cosmopolitan affiliations contended in the shaping of identities, making it difficult to categorize the Macanese within the national and/ or colonial frameworks. Notwithstanding their aff iliations to various places, a change in one particular contact point could already result in conflicting notions of self and community. The rise of inter-port dialogue and new nationalisms during the interwar period intensif ied the conflict between the Portuguese identity and the British colonial sense of belonging that some second and third-generation Macanese settlers had cultivated. In particular, existing between two empires created a dilemma as neither alone could provide the best resources. Portugal’s long inertia prompted many Macanese to seek for advancement elsewhere. In Hong Kong, becoming British in culture and sometimes in status was necessary for practical survival and career advancement, yet these were oftentimes not enough to achieve equal standing to Britons. To make the most out of both worlds, many Hong Kong-born Macanese individuals adopted a British lifestyle while retaining their Portuguese heritage and/or legal status. They spoke fluent English in public, attended Catholic mass and 69 ‘Brass Band for the Volunteers,’ Hongkong Telegraph, 22 April 1927,1. 70 Citizen, ‘Volunteers,’ South China Morning Post, 25 February 1927, 8. 71 ‘Local and General,’ South China Morning Post, 24 February 1927, 2. 72 Portuguese Citizen, ‘Volunteers, To the Editor, SCMP,’ South China Morning Post, 26 February 1927, 10. 73 ‘The Volunteers: Portuguese Will Not Lose their Nationality, Position Explained,’ South China Morning Post, 2 July 1928, 14.

180 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

some spoke Portuguese patuá at home.74 In the atmosphere of the late twenties, however, this was deemed problematic. Anglicized Macanese who served in the Legislative Council were attacked for claiming to be leaders of the Hong Kong Portuguese community. One Macanese wrote to a newspaper to declare, ‘Não. A Comunidade Portuguesa de Hong Kong não tem leaders’ (No. The Portuguese community of Hong Kong has no leaders), adding that these so-called leaders had no right to meddle with Portuguese affairs unless they legalized their Portuguese status.75 Another Macanese called for the appointment of Macanese subjects of Portuguese status to important positions in the British colony.76 Although the Macanese were never anti-colonial in the sense of going against the British colonial administration, a part of the community was against the influences living in a British colony had on the Macanese.

Por Deus e pela Pátria: Portuguese nationalism in Hong Kong The phrase Por Deus e pela Pátria (For God and for the Fatherland) appeared in documents and letters that circulated Hong Kong during the 1930s. It mirrored the Salazar administration’s slogan, Deus, Pátria, Família (God, Fatherland, Family), and was adopted by the Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong (Portuguese League of Hongkong). Formed on 2 July 1929 at 15 Hankow Road, Kowloon (Fig. 9), the Portuguese League aimed to unite all Macanese under the flag of Portugal.77 It pledged to tackle denationalization and reverse Anglicization through advocating Portuguese culture and encouraged Macanese devotion to the development and progress of Portugal. While the construction of this Macanese discourse differed from the emerging anti-colonial nationalisms in other colonial cities, the support that the League offered to the authoritarian Salazarist regime paralleled the German and Macanese experiences in Shanghai during the 1930s. The Germans there expressed their support to the Third Reich and, quoting Kreissler, imagined themselves as ‘defenders of their fatherland and of their government’s position in Shanghai.’78 The Shanghai Macanese celebrated Salazar’s dictatorial government and the twentieth anniversary of the establishment 74 Eddie Gosano, Hong Kong Farewell (Hong Kong: Greg England, 1997), 56, 9. 75 ‘Os Nossos Leaders’ (Our Leaders), O Petardo 1, no. 5 (January 1929), 1. 76 ‘Aclarando’ (Clarification), O Petardo 1, no. 7 (February 1929), 1. 77 The League’s addressed was initially written as No. 15, Hankow Road, Kowloon but was later changed to another apartment in No. 41, Peking Road, Kowloon. 78 Kreissler, ‘In Search of Identity,’ 223.

180 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

some spoke Portuguese patuá at home.74 In the atmosphere of the late twenties, however, this was deemed problematic. Anglicized Macanese who served in the Legislative Council were attacked for claiming to be leaders of the Hong Kong Portuguese community. One Macanese wrote to a newspaper to declare, ‘Não. A Comunidade Portuguesa de Hong Kong não tem leaders’ (No. The Portuguese community of Hong Kong has no leaders), adding that these so-called leaders had no right to meddle with Portuguese affairs unless they legalized their Portuguese status.75 Another Macanese called for the appointment of Macanese subjects of Portuguese status to important positions in the British colony.76 Although the Macanese were never anti-colonial in the sense of going against the British colonial administration, a part of the community was against the influences living in a British colony had on the Macanese.

Por Deus e pela Pátria: Portuguese nationalism in Hong Kong The phrase Por Deus e pela Pátria (For God and for the Fatherland) appeared in documents and letters that circulated Hong Kong during the 1930s. It mirrored the Salazar administration’s slogan, Deus, Pátria, Família (God, Fatherland, Family), and was adopted by the Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong (Portuguese League of Hongkong). Formed on 2 July 1929 at 15 Hankow Road, Kowloon (Fig. 9), the Portuguese League aimed to unite all Macanese under the flag of Portugal.77 It pledged to tackle denationalization and reverse Anglicization through advocating Portuguese culture and encouraged Macanese devotion to the development and progress of Portugal. While the construction of this Macanese discourse differed from the emerging anti-colonial nationalisms in other colonial cities, the support that the League offered to the authoritarian Salazarist regime paralleled the German and Macanese experiences in Shanghai during the 1930s. The Germans there expressed their support to the Third Reich and, quoting Kreissler, imagined themselves as ‘defenders of their fatherland and of their government’s position in Shanghai.’78 The Shanghai Macanese celebrated Salazar’s dictatorial government and the twentieth anniversary of the establishment 74 Eddie Gosano, Hong Kong Farewell (Hong Kong: Greg England, 1997), 56, 9. 75 ‘Os Nossos Leaders’ (Our Leaders), O Petardo 1, no. 5 (January 1929), 1. 76 ‘Aclarando’ (Clarification), O Petardo 1, no. 7 (February 1929), 1. 77 The League’s addressed was initially written as No. 15, Hankow Road, Kowloon but was later changed to another apartment in No. 41, Peking Road, Kowloon. 78 Kreissler, ‘In Search of Identity,’ 223.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

181

Figure 9  Map showing Hong Kong’s Macanese institutions, c. 1941

This 1941 map (courtesy of Hong Kong Historic Maps) shows the first location of Liga Portuguesa (A). Also on the map are Club de Recreio (B) and Rosary Church (E) in Kowloon. Club Lusitano (D) and Cathedral of the Immaculate Conception (C) were situated across the harbor.

of the Portuguese Republic with an impressive reception and a tea party at Shanghai’s Club Lusitano.79 In addition to supporting the authoritarian regime, the League echoed Rodrigues’s vision of unifying the Macanese diaspora. Yet unlike the previous government-led initiative, Liga Portuguesa was started by Januário Agostinho de Almeida, a Macau-born Macanese clerk working for the Hongkong Post Office. Prior to the founding of the League, Januário de Almeida was already a patriot at heart. In 1916, he raised funds from the Macanese communities of Macau, Hong Kong, Shanghai, Canton and Manila to buy gifts and comforts for Portuguese soldiers fighting the First World War in France. His name appeared in Portugal’s newspapers in a message urging Portuguese men to proceed to the war front.80 Almeida had always been proud of his Portuguese background, making it his mission to advocate the teaching and learning of the Portuguese language. Together with his wife, Corina, he 79 ‘Portuguese in Shanghai,’ The North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, 7 October 1930, 11. 80 Other founding members were Julio Augusto Gonsalves (Secretary) and Francisco José da Silva Loureiro (Treasurer). For Januário de Almeida, see ‘Long Service: Post Office Clerk Retires after Thirty Years, Mr. J.A. d’Almeida,’ South China Morning Post, 15 April 1937, 8.

182 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

taught Portuguese for the Escola de Portugues, St. Joseph’s College and La Salle College in his spare time. Although Liga Portuguesa did not have the financial support of the Macau government, Almeida successfully grew the organization from scratch. He quickly gained the support and endorsement of the Portuguese Consul General, who became its guarantor and registered the League with the Supreme Court.81 Moreover, the atmosphere of boiling anxiety over the future of the Macanese community had already set the stage for the timely emergence of this new leader. Liga Portuguesa started with a modest headquarters and a humble vision. Its library and small bar accommodated a small membership.82 According to its bylaws, the League aimed at serving ‘national and regional interests,’ especially in defending the interests of the Portuguese in Hong Kong.83 Almeida placed emphasis on the Kowloon Portuguese, specifically caring for the welfare of those who were born in Macau.84 His first step was thus to merge the pre-existing Macanese associations in Kowloon: the Associação Portugûesa de Socorros Mutuos and Club de Recreio. Almeida became the Honorary Secretary of the Associação and an agreement was reached that allowed the League to use Club de Recreio’s premises when holding large-scale activities.85 The three Kowloon-based organizations worked closely in improving the welfare of the Macanese and more importantly, in realizing Almeida’s vision for a more patriotic, unified and Portugueseoriented Macanese community. Notably, the League was not hostile against Club Lusitano, although it did intend to counter the effects of Anglicization on Hong Kong’s Macanese. Almeida participated in Club Lusitano’s 81 The conference consisted of a lecture from Dr. Américo Pacheco Jorge, followed by an intimate concert on the evening of 28 June 1931. ‘Januario de Almeida to Portuguese Consul of Hong Kong,’ 22 June 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon. 82 The letter further revealed that the League’s premises held a library and a small bar for the entertainment of members. ‘Consul General to Registrar,’ 28 January 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon. 83 ‘Januario de Almeida to Henry Valtorta,’ 17 November 1932, IV-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong. 84 ‘Estatutos da Liga Portuguesa de Hong Kong’ (Bylaws of the Portuguese League of Hong Kong), MO/AH/AC/SA/01/12543, 1, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. 85 Vicente Ferrer Soares, ‘Report for 1929,’ 31 December 1929, 3 September 1930, VI-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archives, Hong Kong; ‘Januario A de Almeida to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong,’ 29 March 1932; ‘Portuguese Consulate General of Hong Kong to Governor of Macau,’ 7 April 1932; ‘Governor of Macau to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong,’ 13 April 1932, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13875, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. See also, a news report from a later date, ‘Charity Concert: In Aid of Education of Poor Portuguese, Consul General Present,’ South China Morning Post, 22 July 1935, 8.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

183

receptions but the two organizations kept a distance from each other.86 Club Lusitano continued to serve middle-class Anglicized Macanese men while Liga Portuguesa appealed to all Macanese who identified with their Portuguese heritage. With a subscription fee of $1, the League admitted all ‘honest Portuguese citizens of good civil and moral reputation.’87 Shortly after its establishment, Liga Portuguesa evolved into a platform promoting the Portuguese language, which Almeida believed was key to instilling patriotism amongst the Macanese. 88 As it was important for the Macanese public to have easy access to reading materials, the League planned for the opening of a public library stacked with books in the Portuguese language and related to Portugal. Next was education. Almeida set up Caixa Escolar (Portuguese Poor Children’s School Fund) in 1931 to centralize all donations and subsidies for the facilitation of Portuguese-language education aimed at Macanese children.89 The Macau government offered $5,520 for the League to set up elementary Portugueselanguage classes in Kowloon.90 The Associação provided textbooks.91 A few months later in early 1932, the League reported the opening of elementary Portuguese classes at the Maryknoll Convent of Kowloon. Synchronizing religion and the Portuguese tongue, Almeida sought to bring the Portuguese language into the church. He convinced Hong Kong’s Vicar Apostolic, Henry Valtorta, to deliver a sermon in Portuguese at the Rosary church. Valtorta was supportive, but was unsure of whether the Macanese public was interested. He agreed to the sermon with the condition that there would be at least two hundred churchgoers. At half past eight on a Sunday in March 1933, Valtorta delivered, for the first time in the church’s history, 86 ‘Reception to Macao’s Governor: Gathering of Portuguese Community Extends a Hearty Welcome,’ South China Morning Post, 6 December 1929, 9. 87 ‘Estatutos da Liga Portuguesa de Hong Kong,’ 15. 88 ‘Consul General to Registrar,’ 28 January 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon. 89 ‘Estatutos da Liga Portuguesa de Hong Kong,’ 1; ‘Estatutos da Caixa Escolar da Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong’ (Bylaws of the Portuguese Poor Children’s School Fund of the Portuguese League of Hongkong), MS 4300.15.1/6, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 90 Governor of Macau, ‘Diploma legislative no. 196,’ 1 August 1931, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13562, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau; ‘President of Inspection Board of Chinese Schools to Director of Civil Administrative Services,’ 2 August 1931, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13562, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau. 91 ‘Januario A de Almeida to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong,’ 29 March 1932; ‘Portuguese Consulate General of Hong Kong to Governor of Macau,’ 7 April 1932; ‘Governor of Macau to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong,’ 13 April 1932, MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13875, Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau.

184 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

a Portuguese-language sermon.92 Throughout the 1930s, the Easter services and Sunday masses in Rosary church were conducted in English, Cantonese and Portuguese.93 For its active efforts in promoting Portuguese culture and serving the lower-class Macanese, the Macau government recognized Liga Portuguesa as the pre-eminent Macanese association in Hong Kong. The League further surpassed Club Lusitano in philanthropic engagement. In August 1931, an explosion occurred in Macau’s Flora Barracks, killing forty-one civilians, seven of whom were children. While members of Liga Portuguesa and Club Lusitano both took the lead in raising funds for the victims, it was President Almeida who was offered a seat on the committee for the distribution of collected funds in Macau.94 The Macanese spread across China accumulated a total subscription of $14,090; the League donated $5,338 and Club Lusitano raised $4,386.95 Club Lusitano’s subscriptions came from local donors such as the China Light & Power Co. and a combination of Chinese, European and Macanese residents. Liga Portuguesa managed to attract donations from prominent figures in the colony such as unofficial Legislative Council member Robert Kotewall, companies like the Victoria Printing Press, the Hongkong Printing Press, Macao Timor Line and the Consuls of Belgium, the Netherlands, Italy, Germany, Japan and Denmark and Norway.96 In the months that followed, the League continued to raise funds for the victims.97 92 ‘Januario de Almeida to Henry Valtorta,’ 17 November 1932, IV-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong; ‘Henry Valtorta to Januario de Almeida,’ 5 January 1933, IV-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong; ‘Januario Almeida to Henry Valtorta,’ 25 March 1933, IV-08-02, Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong. 93 ‘Rosary Church,’ South China Morning Post, 14 April 1933, 17; ‘Rosary Church,’ South China Morning Post, 16 May 1936, 16; ‘Rosary Church,’ South China Morning Post, 29 July 1939, 19. 94 ‘Joaquim Anselmo de Mata Oliveira to Consul General of Portugal in Hong Kong,’ 3 December 1931, Consulado de Hongkong, correspondencia 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon. 95 Macau raised $3,795 and Shanghai’s Macanese offered $571. ‘Macao Relief Fund: Total Subscriptions Raise Sum of $14,090,’ South China Morning Post, 19 September 1931, 14. 96 ‘Macao Relief Fund: Subscriptions Received by Liga Portuguese,’ South China Morning Post, 20 August 1931, 9; ‘Macao Relief Fund: The Latest List of Subscriptions,’ South China Morning Post, 22 August 1931, 9; ‘Macao Relief Fund: More Donations to List of Subscriptions,’ South China Morning Post, 25 August 1931, 10; ‘Macao Relief Fund: Latest Donations Acknowledged, Liga Portuguesa List,’ South China Morning Post, 3 September 1931, 9; ‘Macao Relief Fund: The Latest Donations Acknowledged,’ South China Morning Post, 11 September 1931, 9. 97 ‘Januario de Almeida to Governor of Macau,’ 12 September 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon; ‘Joaquim Anselmo de Mata Oliveira to Consul General of Portugal in Hong Kong,’ 3 December 1931, S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

185

It also organized charity concerts to raise funds for the Portuguese Poor Children’s School Fund.98 Liga Portuguesa fostered a strong sense of community for the Kowloon Macanese. It ran its own football, softball and rifle teams. The League had its own emblem and boasted an associational hymn (Fig. 10), which was performed in formal events right before Portugal’s national anthem. Its lyrics, suggesting everlasting patriotism and devotion to Portugal, start with a stress on unity: ‘Irmãos de raça andai unidos’ (racial brothers walk together) and end with an optimistic call for patriotism and progress: ‘Avante pois / Avante, irmãos / Pelo nosso grande Ideal / Pelo glorioso porvir / Do nesso amado Portugal!’ (Go forward / Forward, brothers / For our great ideal / For the glorious future / Of the beloved Portugal!).99 Cultivating a sense of belonging and a strong Portuguese culture was an important foundation of Liga Portuguesa’s nationalistic discourse. The image of Camões often graced the League’s propaganda, as seen in a leaflet that described him as the ‘author of the “eternal book” of Portugal, Os Lusíadas’ and advised the Macanese to ‘Possess this book and read it with indispensable attention of the good Portuguese soul.’100 With the support of the Consul General of Portugal and the Macau government, Liga Portuguesa achieved a level of influence that no other Portuguese institution in the colony had attained. It represented the interests of all Macanese in the colony that identified, in different ways and extents, with a Portuguese heritage.

Printing and disseminating diasporic nationalism Prior to the initiatives of Liga Portuguesa, the question of nationalism only appeared in scattered newspaper debates and everyday conversations. The Macanese of the previous generations were either too busy earning their bread and butter or too preoccupied with the construction of a respectable, middle-class strand of the community. Unprecedentedly, the members of Liga Portuguesa worked to construct a collective sense of diasporic nationalism amongst the Macanese, which was made possible by the vibrant print capitalism of the interwar years. Notably, the emergence of Liga Portuguesa’s 98 See, for instance, R., ‘Portuguese Show: Concert Held for Benef it of Poor Boys Funds for Education,’ South China Morning Post, 10 February 1936, 13. 99 ‘Hino de Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong’ (Hymn of Portuguese League of Hongkong), MS 4300 15.1/6, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 100 ‘Camões, principe dos poetas’ (Camões, Prince of Poets), MS 4300 15.1/6, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

185

It also organized charity concerts to raise funds for the Portuguese Poor Children’s School Fund.98 Liga Portuguesa fostered a strong sense of community for the Kowloon Macanese. It ran its own football, softball and rifle teams. The League had its own emblem and boasted an associational hymn (Fig. 10), which was performed in formal events right before Portugal’s national anthem. Its lyrics, suggesting everlasting patriotism and devotion to Portugal, start with a stress on unity: ‘Irmãos de raça andai unidos’ (racial brothers walk together) and end with an optimistic call for patriotism and progress: ‘Avante pois / Avante, irmãos / Pelo nosso grande Ideal / Pelo glorioso porvir / Do nesso amado Portugal!’ (Go forward / Forward, brothers / For our great ideal / For the glorious future / Of the beloved Portugal!).99 Cultivating a sense of belonging and a strong Portuguese culture was an important foundation of Liga Portuguesa’s nationalistic discourse. The image of Camões often graced the League’s propaganda, as seen in a leaflet that described him as the ‘author of the “eternal book” of Portugal, Os Lusíadas’ and advised the Macanese to ‘Possess this book and read it with indispensable attention of the good Portuguese soul.’100 With the support of the Consul General of Portugal and the Macau government, Liga Portuguesa achieved a level of influence that no other Portuguese institution in the colony had attained. It represented the interests of all Macanese in the colony that identified, in different ways and extents, with a Portuguese heritage.

Printing and disseminating diasporic nationalism Prior to the initiatives of Liga Portuguesa, the question of nationalism only appeared in scattered newspaper debates and everyday conversations. The Macanese of the previous generations were either too busy earning their bread and butter or too preoccupied with the construction of a respectable, middle-class strand of the community. Unprecedentedly, the members of Liga Portuguesa worked to construct a collective sense of diasporic nationalism amongst the Macanese, which was made possible by the vibrant print capitalism of the interwar years. Notably, the emergence of Liga Portuguesa’s 98 See, for instance, R., ‘Portuguese Show: Concert Held for Benef it of Poor Boys Funds for Education,’ South China Morning Post, 10 February 1936, 13. 99 ‘Hino de Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong’ (Hymn of Portuguese League of Hongkong), MS 4300 15.1/6, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra. 100 ‘Camões, principe dos poetas’ (Camões, Prince of Poets), MS 4300 15.1/6, J.M. Braga Papers, The National Library of Australia, Canberra.

186 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Figure 10  Leaflet of Liga Portuguesa’s hymn

A leaflet of ‘The Hymn of Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong’ (courtesy of Stuart Braga) with lyrics and musical arrangement printed at the back, found hidden in the Braga Collection at the National Library of Australia. The hymn was composed by Pedro Xavier and written by Julio Gonsalves.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

187

efforts mirrored the metropole’s decision to strengthen national propaganda. In Portugal, António de Oliveira Salazar proposed a ‘nationalist-imperialist’ discourse that intertwined the nation and the empire.101 According to the Acto Colonial (Colonial Act) of 1930, it was a part of the organic essence of the nation to carry out Portugal’s historical function of colonizing overseas dominions and civilizing indigenous populations. In the 1930s, this was more a show to campaign for public support by glorifying the past. Salazar deployed propaganda, using colonial exhibitions and cartography to integrate the colonies into the nation for the illusion of an expanded Portuguese territorial border.102 Echoing the sudden surge of nationalistic discourse across the Portuguese empire, the League initiated various activities. In October 1933, it organized a gathering to showcase Macanese devotion to the fatherland. In the presence of the Vicar Apostolic, the Acting Consul General of Portugal and the presidents of Club Lusitano, the Associação, Club de Recreio and the Catholic Union, Almeida gave a patriotic speech that illuminated the glorious history of Portugal and Liga Portuguesa’s ceaseless work in propagating and cultivating Portuguese culture through educating the younger generation. Almeida proposed forming a ‘ladies’ branch’ of the League to emphasize the role of women in the youth’s education and upbringing. The reception ended with a cablegram to the Minister for the Colonies of Lisbon to inform them of the League’s efforts in ensuring the loyalty of the Hong Kong Macanese to the Portuguese nation.103 Print propaganda was another important vehicle in the advocacy of Portuguese diasporic nationalism in Hong Kong. The League centralized its efforts in printing and distributing propaganda through the Bureau de Propaganda Nacional da Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong (National Propaganda 101 For Salazar’s propaganda, see J.M. Cunha, A Nação nas Malhas da sua Identidade: O Estada Novo e a construção da identidade nacional (Stitching the Nation’s Identity: The New State and the Construction of National Identity) (Oporto: Afrontamento, 2001); David Corkill and José Carlos Pina Almeida, ‘Commemoration and Propaganda in Salazar’s Portugal: The Mundo Português Exposition of 1940,’ Journal of Contemporary History 44, no. 3 (2009), 381–399. 102 For Salazar’s use of cartography as a propaganda tool in advocating nationalism, see Heriberto Cairo, ‘“Portugal is not a Small Country”: Maps and Propaganda in the Salazar Regime,’ Geopolitics 11, no. 3 (2006), 367–395. An example of Salazar’s cultural propaganda are the exhibition held in the Portuguese building at Antwerp in 1930 and the 1934 Exposição Colonial Portuguesa hosted in Porto. For these, see Matthew G. Stanard, ‘Interwar Pro-Empire Propaganda and European Colonial Culture: Toward a Comparative Research Agenda,’ Journal of Contemporary History 44, no. 1 (2009), 38–39; António Medeiros, Two Sides of One River: Nationalism and Ethnography in Galicia and Portugal (Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2012), 259–284. 103 ‘Local Portuguese Celebrate: Large Gathering at the Liga Portuguesa, President’s Appeal,’ South China Morning Post, 5 October 1933, 10.

188 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Bureau of Portuguese League of Hongkong). Its first regular print was the Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em Propaganda da Caixa Escolar (Portuguese League of Hongkong, in Propaganda of its School Fund), later renamed Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em beneficio da sua ‘Caixa Escolar’ (Portuguese League of Hongkong, in Aid of its School Fund). Claiming to serve ‘national and regional interests,’ the magazine was a fundraising apparatus that reported on Macanese activities in Asia, as well as developments in Portugal. To fulfill its patriotic mission, articles professing Macanese admiration for the Salazarist government were constantly in print. One of these articles discussed Salazar’s ‘patriotic thoughts’ and described the Portuguese dictator as a ‘true Portuguese soul, thirsting for life, peace and progress.’104 The magazine reached an audience beyond Hong Kong. Macanese readers from neighboring Macau, Shanghai and Manila sent in their contributions. A letter from Manila entitled ‘A obra patriotica do Dr. Oliveira Salazar’ (Dr. Oliveira Salazar’s Patriotic Work) called Salazar ‘an idealist’ and ‘a dreamer.’ The reader pointed out that there was a small Portuguese nucleus in the Far East that appreciated and acknowledged the patriotic efforts of Salazar.105 By 1935, branches of Liga Portuguesa began to emerge in other Asian cities. Plans were on the way for a Shanghai branch, the Liga Civica Portuguesa de Shanghai (Portuguese Civic League of Shanghai), which was aimed at promoting civility between the Macanese communities of Hong Kong and Shanghai.106 In Kobe, the Associação Portuguesa de Kobe (Portuguese Association of Kobe) was formed.107 When the League’s official mouthpiece, A Comunidade (The Community) appeared, the newspaper had correspondents in Macau, Shanghai, Canton and Kobe. A Comunidade became the instrument that would actualize Rodrigues’s unfinished project of uniting the Macanese diaspora. Only this time, there was a stronger emphasis on Portuguese nationalism and an aim to revive Macanese connections to Portugal. Saluting Salazar and the metropole’s activities was a common theme for the newspaper. An October 1935 issue featured Macau’s infantry Captain José da Cruz Ribeiro’s optimistic report on Portugal’s recent developments. Ribeiro commended the Salazar regime and encouraged all subjects of Portuguese descent and nationality around the world to ‘erect new pillars 104 ‘A obra patriotica do Dr. Oliveira Salazar’ (The Patriotic Work of Dr. Oliveira Salazar), Liga Portuguesa em Beneficio da Sua ‘Caixa Escolar’ no. 1 (December 1933), 23. 105 Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong, Liga Portuguesa em Beneficio da Sua ‘Caixa Escolar’ no. 1 (December 1933), 25. 106 ‘A Liga Civica Portuguesa de Shanghai,’ A Comunidade 1, no. (November 1935), 5. 107 A Comunidade 1, no. 5 (November 1935), 1.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

189

of glory to commemorate the glorious and successful Portuguese Colonial Empire.’108 The pages of A Comunidade offered a platform for the discussion of wider social issues, which often reverted to questions of nationalism. In 1936, the importance of Macanese solidarity was discussed in an article entitled ‘A Nossa Vida e a Nossa Raça’ (Our Life and Our Race). The writer claimed that the Macanese respected their nationality, because by doing so, they not only honored their community but also the nation and the wise words of Dr. Oliveira Salazar.109 The role of women was reconsidered vis-à-vis the nation. A letter from Shanghai revealed a reader’s ideal modern Macanese woman as someone who engages in household chores, but also spends time on social issues and stays away from ‘fashion, lipstick and other commercial inventions.’110 According to the contributor, women modernizing in moderation would benefit the upbringing of Macanese children and pave the way for a progressive future for the community and the nation.111 The newspaper also invited readers to suggest ideas on countering the impacts of living on foreign territory. One writer claimed the provision of British education in Hong Kong’s Portuguese schools stunted the developments of national consciousness and patriotism amongst the Macanese youth. The writer proposed reforming the curriculum and giving Macanese children the opportunity to learn about the works of Camões and not Shakespeare, as well as the history of Portugal instead of England.112 Another article urged the Macanese to create new impetus for the teaching and learning of the Portuguese tongue in Hong Kong.113 The nationalism that Liga Portuguesa advocated was thus not anti-colonial, building instead on an intention to impede the Anglicization of the Hong Kong Macanese. By offering a platform for the various Macanese communities to interact, Propaganda da Caixa Escolar and A Comunidade helped forge the imagination of a transnational community linked by Portuguese heritage and loyalty to Portugal. By 1936, Liga Portuguesa was no longer just a leading Portuguese association in Hong Kong. With supporters from other Asian port-cities, it 108 Capt. J. Cruz Ribeiro, ‘A Greater Portugal,’ A Comunidade 1, no. 4 (October 1935), 5. 109 Ernesto, ‘A Nossa Vida e a Nossa Raça,’ A Comunidade 2, no. 9 (March 1936), 1. 110 The original was ‘as módas, o “lip-stick” e demais invenções da astúcia comercial.’ 111 Carlos Jacinto Machado, ‘A mulher Portuguesa e o seu papel na educação moderna’ (A Portuguese Woman and Her Role in Modern Education,’ A Comunidade 1, no. 5 (November 1935), 3. 112 ‘A Historia de Portugal’ (A History of Portugal), A Comunidade 2, no. 13 (July 1936), 1. 113 A.C., ‘O Problema Da Instrução Dos Portuguese De Hong Kong E Shanghai’ (The Problem of Portuguese Instruction of Hong Kong and Shanghai), A Comunidade 1, no. 6 (December 1935)

190 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

became a leading organization of the Macanese in East Asia. A Macanese leader from Shanghai credited Liga Portuguesa for taking on the task of uniting Asia’s Macanese.114 In a letter to the Propaganda da Caixa Escolar, the Vicar Apostolic highlighted the League’s imminent task of saving the Portuguese language from extinction. He wrote: Without a ‘Liga,’ [the Macanese] cannot be bound together. There is a need for solidarity amongst the three thousand population within over a million others. Can they, as a body, even claim the mother language as their own? […] [The language] is going from the Schools, it is going from the Church, it is dying in the Clubs, it is dying in the homes. With it goes slowly, but surely, all taste for what is characteristically Portuguese.115

In the years leading to the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, the Macanese showed an unprecedented level of solidarity. In August 1937, the fall of Shanghai sent one thousand Macanese fleeing from war. This created the momentum for the Hong Kong Macanese to unite. Club Lusitano, Liga Portuguesa, the Associação, the Catholic Union and Club de Recreio formed a committee aimed at providing assistance to the refugees. Some took shelter in the homes of Macanese families while the majority continued on their journey to Macau.116 A local newspaper reported on a welcome party at the Club de Recreio, organized by the Portuguese and Catholic associations, for more than three hundred refugees.117 The reconciliation of the Hong Kong and Kowloon Macanese was boosted when Leo d’Almada e Castro was simultaneously elected as president of Club Lusitano and Club de Recreio. The Macanese regarded Almeida highly for his active efforts in uniting the Macanese communities. Some Macanese recommended the appointment of Almeida as the representative of all Macanese before the Macau government. They commended him for ‘striving for something just a little better than what we might call progressive for our community.’118 The appointment never happened. In 1937, Almeida left all his positions in Hong Kong and 114 Carlos Jacinto Machado, ‘O problêma magno Macaense’ (A Great Macanese Problem), Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em Propaganda da Caixa Escolar (December 1932), 9. 115 Henry Valtorta, ‘Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong,’ Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em Propaganda da Caixa Escolar (December 1932), 5. 116 ‘Portuguese Plans: Thousand Refugees En Route to Colony, Going to Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 20 August 1937, 14. 117 ‘Clubs’ “At Home”: Local Portuguese Treat Shanghai Associates, Tea Party and Dance,’ South China Morning Post, 12 September 1937, 3. 118 An optimist, ‘To the Editor,’ A Comunidade 2, no. 7 (January 1936), 8.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

191

retired to Japan.119 He later returned to Macau and until his passing, kept a local estate of $8,500 under his ownership in Hong Kong.120 His legacy lay in his efforts to construct solidarity amongst the Macanese diaspora. Almeida spearheaded the idea of a diasporic Portuguese nationalism and created a platform for the Macanese to collectively explore notions of patriotism. As the previous chapters have shown, the Hong Kong Macanese were, to varying extents, detached from Portugal. Being ‘Portuguese’ was more a cultural and practical issue than a political one. Liga Portuguesa directed the Macanese to reconsider their status and roles as nationals of the Portuguese state. In 1939, Club Lusitano appeared to have joined the nationalistic fervor. Its members requested the Portuguese government, through the help of the Macau Governor, a photograph of Salazar to be displayed on its premises.121 A year later, a letter expressing utmost patriotism was sent from Hong Kong to Portugal. Under the lead of Liga Portuguesa’s new president, Maximiano Antonio Gomes, six Macanese men asked to join the military of Portugal and claimed they were ready to die alongside the spirited sons of the nation.122 They did not hear from Portugal. In retrospect, the construction of Portuguese nationalism was unique to the Macanese experience. Portugal’s other overseas territories did not respond positively to the Salazarist regime’s repressive policies. The dictatorial government restricted political meetings, eliminated the freedom of press and enacted exploitative economic policies.123 These policies inflamed anti-colonial sentiments, forcing colonial elites to look for alternative ways of resistance. Angolan colonial elites took advantage of the 1934 Exposição Colonial Portuguesa (Portuguese Colonies’ Exhibition) to subtly articulate local identity by including a map printed by the Empresa Gráfica de Angola, a company owned by Adolfo Pina, advocate of Angolan autonomy.124 Goa experienced a surge of interest towards the Goan identity. The Salazar regime’s strict rules and racial policies triggered wider anti-colonial sentiments 119 ‘Long Service: Post Office Clerk Retires after Thirty Years, Mr. J.A. d’Almeida,’ South China Morning Post, 15 April 1937, 8. 120 ‘Estates of Former Residents,’ South China Morning Post, 1 January 1955, 2. 121 ‘Júlio Cayolla to Antero Augusto Leal Marques,’ 15 December 1939, PT/TT/SGPCMGPC/0274/00003, Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Lisbon. 122 ‘La Liga Portuguesa to President of the Portuguese Republic,’ 20 December 1940, PT/TT/ SGPCM-GPC/0484/00003, Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Lisbon. 123 Gervase Clarence-Smith, The Third Portuguese Empire, 1825–1974: A Study in Economic Imperialism (Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985), 147–191. 124 Torin Spangler, ‘Whose Colonial Project? Angolan Elites and the Colonial Exhibitions of the 1930s: Notes on the Special Magazine Edition of A provincial de Angola, 15 August 1934,’ e-Journal of Portuguese History 16, no. 1 (2018).

192 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

and created greater momentum for Mahatma Gandhi’s silent revolution in India.125 Macau, however, was far from the influence of Salazar’s new policies, prompting political exiles from other Portuguese colonies to seek refuge in Macau.126 Then still in a territorial dispute with China and wary of increasing Communist activity in the enclave, the Macau government saw the Acto Colonial as an opportunity to justify Portuguese authority and encourage anti-Communist sentiments. In 1933, the colonial government demanded new civil servants take an oath of anti-Communism before entering service.127 It further set up two platforms, the Mocidade Portuguesa (Portuguese Youth) in 1939 and the União Nacional de Macau (Portuguese National Union) in 1940, both of which mirrored the metropole’s scheme to stimulate Portuguese patriotism. The circumstances of Macau and the fact that the Macanese diasporic communities did not experience the repressive rule of the Portuguese government resulted in ready support for Liga Portuguesa’s nationalistic initiatives. Through multiple narratives that merged old and new developments in various urban spaces, the Macanese imagined themselves as supporters of Portugal’s dictatorial government and, more importantly, members of a larger Portuguese family. *** The vibrancy of the interwar period propelled the Macanese to reconstruct their identity in relation to the framework of the nation. While other communities explored nationalism through anti-colonial discourses, the Hong Kong Macanese were never against the British colonial administration. Instead, they were against the impacts Anglicization was having on the declining Portugueseness of their people. The emergence of anti-Anglicization in the Macanese context was more a reaction to the long-term consequences of diaspora and repeated movement, which positioned the Macanese identity on various trajectories. For some, being Macanese in 1930s Hong Kong 125 One example is Varde Valaulikar’s 1930 publication, Konkani Bhaxechem Zoit (Konkani’s Triumph), which proposed Konkani as the ‘mother tongue’ of Goans. For this, see ManoharaRai SarDessai, A History of Konkani Literature (From 1500 to 1992) (New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi, 2000), 119–121. For the racial policies and their effects, see Anita A. Raut Desai, ‘Voices in the Liberation Struggle: The Case of Goa, 1947–61,’ PhD diss., Goa University, 2003, 26–27. 126 Li Xiyuan 黎熙元, ‘Nanyi biaoshi de shenfen’ 難以表述的身份——澳門人的文化認同 (An Identity that is Difficult to Define—The Cultural Belonging of Macau’s People), Ershi yi shiji 二十 一世紀 92 (2005), 22. 127 Lou Shenghua 婁勝華, ‘Ershi shiji shang banye Aomen shehui de fazhan yu zhuanzhe’ 廿 世紀上 半葉澳門社會的發展與轉折 (Macau’s Social Developments and Transition in the First Half of the Twentieth Century), Xingzheng 行政 108, no. 2 (2015), 451.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

193

simultaneously referred to being a Portuguese national, a citizen of a British colony and someone whose ancestors hailed from Macau. Those who had acquired British status maintained connections to their roots through adopting Portuguese culture to different extents and joining Macanese associations. Built on developments that encompassed two empires and a distant fatherland, the Macanese identity was fragmented but resilient, drawing on cultural markers from different urban, imperial and temporal spaces. Strictly speaking, there was never a fine line that explicitly separated the Anglicized Macanese from the pro-Portuguese Macanese. In light of identity-building as an endless process, the Hong Kong Macanese constantly drifted between the Portuguese and British spheres. The fact that the foreign enterprises and the colonial government continued to secure the superiority and privileges of Britons made it diff icult for many Macanese subjects to completely perceive themselves as ‘British.’ Speaking fluent English and holding British status did not necessarily transpire to equal treatment. In 1939, Hong Kong-born Macanese Eddie Gosano became a surgical medical officer in the Kowloon Hospital. He revealed in his autobiography that the government categorized him as equal to a ‘Chinese medical officer,’ with a pay of $375 per month and an annual leave of two weeks. In comparison, an ‘English medical officer’ of the same rank would have been entitled to nine months of leave every three years, with passage to and from the United Kingdom for the whole family.128 A close examination of the Hongkong & Shanghai Banking Corporation’s staff book for 1941 shows a considerable gap between the salaries of Britons and Macanese. The highest-paid Briton received a monthly pay of 3,582 Hong Kong dollars while the highest-paid Macanese earned 480 dollars.129 This situation of racial inequality in Hong Kong’s workplace was also discussed bitterly in the press. One letter revealed, No matter what qualifications a ‘Not 100%’ may have, he would not be eligible. A ‘Not 100%,’ or an Indian or Portuguese British subject would, however, be employed for a junior (in some cases semi-senior) position at a salary considerably lower than that offered to a ‘100%.’ Perhaps the discrimination is made because those who are not 100% sometimes take ‘rice and harm choy (salt cabbage)’ which are much cheaper than milk, bread and butter, and can therefore get by on a lower salary.130 128 Gosano, Farewell Hong Kong, 14. 129 ‘HSBC Staff Book, 1941,’ HKH 195, HSBC Archives, Hong Kong. 130 A, ‘Discrimination,’ South China Morning Post, 9 September 1941, 7.

194 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

The resilience of the Macanese lay not only in their ambiguous racial backgrounds and century-long diaspora, but also on their openness to constant sojourn and change. Once settled in a new land, the Macanese took what they could to survive and drifted elsewhere when the tides of circumstance and opportunity changed. On the eve of the Japanese occupation of Hong Kong, the Macanese continued to exist in the margins of Hong Kong society, but racial inequality and colonial injustice did not dominate the discourses that helped shape their communal identity. As mixed-race subjects, living on the fringes of various cultural worlds offered the Macanese more space to maneuver and better tools of survival. Pledging allegiance to more than one government also allowed the Macanese to seize resources from various outlets. Liga Portuguesa had its headquarters in Hong Kong, but it drew on the moral and financial support of the colony’s Consul General of Portugal and the Macau government. This experience brings us back to the many narratives that this book has revisited. From Manuel Pereira’s pursuits in the late eighteenth century to Leo d’Almada e Castro’s political participation in the early twentieth century, these men possessed vast networks and ambiguous identities, ultimately embracing more than one identity and occupying more than one place under the sun.

Bibliography Unpublished archival sources Arquivo Histórico de Macau, Macau MO/AH/AC/SA/01/09017, ‘Comemoração em Macau do aniversário da morte de Luís de Camões.’ 7 June 1923. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/12543, ‘Estatutos da Liga Portuguesa de Hong Kong.’ MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13562, ‘President of Inspection Board of Chinese Schools to Director of Civil Administrative Services.’ 2 August 1931. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13562, Governor of Macau. ‘Diploma legislative no. 196.’ 1 August 1931. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13875, ‘Governor of Macau to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong.’ 13 April 1932. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13875, ‘Januario A de Almeida to Portuguese Consulate of Hong Kong,’ 29 March 1932. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/13875, ‘Portuguese Consulate General of Hong Kong to Governor of Macau,’ 7 April 1932. MO/AH/AC/SA/01/15491, ‘Comemorações do “Dia de Camões.”’

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

195

Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, ‘Consul General to Registrar.’ 28 January 1931. S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, ‘Januario de Almeida to Portuguese Consul of Hong Kong.’ 22 June 1931. S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, ‘Januario de Almeida to Governor of Macau.’ 12 September 1931. S3.E1Z8.P6/40493, ‘Joaquim Anselmo de Mata Oliveira to Consul General of Portugal in Hong Kong.’ 3 December 1931. Arquivo Nacional Torre do Tombo, Lisbon PT/TT/SGPCM-GPC/0274/00003, ‘Júlio Cayolla to Antero Augusto Leal Marques.’ 15 December 1939. PT/TT/SGPCM-GPC/0484/00003, ‘La Liga Portuguesa to President of the Portuguese Republic.’ 20 December 1940. Hong Kong Catholic Diocesan Archive, Hong Kong IV-08-02, ‘Henry Valtorta to Januario de Almeida.’ 5 January 1933. IV-08-02, ‘Januario Almeida to Henry Valtorta.’ 25 March 1933. IV-08-02, ‘Januario de Almeida to Henry Valtorta.’ 17 November 1932. VI-08-02, Vicente Ferrer Soares. ‘Report for 1929.’ 31 December 1929, 3 September 1930. HSBC Archive, Hong Kong HKH 195, ‘HSBC Staff Book, 1941.’ National Library of Australia, Canberra MS 4300 13.1/2, Botelho, Pedro. ‘To J.P. Braga.’ 15 April 1919. MS 4300.15.1/6, ‘Estatutos da Caixa Escolar da Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong.’ MS 4300 13.1/2, Ede, C. Montague. ‘Housing Scheme, Memorandum by Mr. C. Montague Ede.’ 17 April 1919. MS 4300 15.1/6, ‘Hino de Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong.’ MS 4300 15.1/6, ‘Camões, principe dos poetas.’ The National Archives of the United Kingdom, Kew CO 129/408, C. Montague Ede. ‘To Governor Frederick Lugard.’ 1 March 1912.

Published primary sources ‘A Landmark in the Development of Kowloon: The Club de Recreio.’ The Rock 1, no. 3 (March 1928): 86. ‘A obra patriotica do Dr. Oliveira Salazar’ (The Patriotic Work of Dr. Oliveira Salazar). Liga Portuguesa em Beneficio da Sua ‘Caixa Escolar’ no. 1 (December 1933): 23. ‘From the Editor’s Chair.’ The Rock 2, no. 10 (July 1922): 336. ‘Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente.’ Boletim Oficial do Governor da Provincia de Macau, no. 10 (15 March 1923): 192–194. ‘Proposta n° 11’ (Proposal no. 11).’ Boletim Oficial do Governor da Provincia de Macau, no. 10 (15 March 1923), 192–193.

196 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

‘Report on the Census of the Colony for 1897, Laid before the Legislative Council by Command of His Excellency the Governor.’ 20 June 1897. Boletim Eclesiástico da Diocese XXII, no. 253 (1924): 94–95. Directory and Chronicle 1904. Hong Kong: Hongkong Daily Press, 1904. Hong Kong Blue Book for the Year 1901. Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1902. Hongkong Blue Book for the Year 1911. Hong Kong: Noronha & Co., 1912. Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong. Liga Portuguesa em Beneficio da Sua ‘Caixa Escolar’ no. 1 (December 1933): 25. Machado, Carlos Jacinto. ‘O problêma magno Macaense’ (A Great Macanese Problem).’ Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em Propaganda da Caixa Escolar (December 1932): 9. The Geographic Journal 12, no. 1 (1898). Valtorta, Henry. ‘Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong.’ Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong em Propaganda da Caixa Escolar (December 1932): 5.

Newspapers A Comunidade, Hong Kong A Pátria, Macau Echo Macaense, Macau O Liberal, Macau O Patriota, Macau O Petardo, Hong Kong South China Morning Post, Hong Kong The China Mail, Hong Kong The China Press, Shanghai The Hongkong Telegraph, Hong Kong The North China Herald, Shanghai The North-China Herald and Supreme Court & Consular Gazette, Shanghai

Secondary sources Aiyar, Sana. ‘Anticolonial Homelands across the Indian Ocean: The Politics of the Indian Diaspora in Kenya, ca. 1930–1950.’ The American Historical Review 116, no. 4 (2011): 987–1013. Anderson, Benedict. Imagined Communities: Reflections on the Origins and Spread of Nationalism. London: Verso, 1991. Barmé, Scott. Luang Wichit Wathakan and the Creation of a Thai Identity. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 1993.

Uniting to Divide, Dividing to Unite

197

Cairo, Heriberto. ‘“Portugal is not a Small Country”: Maps and Propaganda in the Salazar Regime.’ Geopolitics 11, no. 3 (2006): 367–395. Chua Ai Lin. ‘Nation, Race and Language: Discussing Transnational Identities in Colonial Singapore, circa 1930.’ Modern Asian Studies 46, no. 2 (2012): 283–302. Clarence-Smith, Gervase. The Third Portuguese Empire, 1825–1974: A Study in Economic Imperialism. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1985. Copeland, Matthew. ‘Contested Nationalism and the 1932 Overthrow of the Absolute Monarchy in Siam.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 1993. Corkill, David, and José Carlos Pina Almeida. ‘Commemoration and Propaganda in Salazar’s Portugal: The Mundo Português Exposition of 1940.’ Journal of Contemporary History 44, no. 3 (2009): 381–399. Correa, J. Bosco. ‘Francisco Paulo de Vasconcelos Soares.’ Macaneselibrary, 2016. Cunha, J.M. A Nação nas Malhas da sua Identidade: O Estada Novo e a construção da identidade nacional (Stitching the Nation’s Identity: The New State and the Construction of National Identity). Oporto: Afrontamento, 2001. Da Silva, Jorge, and António M. Pacheco. The Portuguese Community in Hong Kong: A Pictorial History, Vol. I. Macau: Macau Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2007. De Jesus, Montalto C.A. Historic Macao: International Traits in China Old and New. Macau: Salesian Printing Press and Tipografia Mercantil, 1926. De Sá, Luís Andrade. The Boys from Macau. Macau: Fundação Oriente, Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1999. Desai, Anita A. Raut. ‘Voices in the Liberation Struggle: The Case of Goa, 1947–61.’ PhD diss., Goa University, 2003. Edwards, Penny. ‘Relocating the Interlocutor: Taw Sein Ko (1864–1930) and the Itinerancy of Knowledge in British Burma.’ South East Asia Research 12, no. 3 (2004): 277–335. Frost, Mark Ravinder. ‘Cosmopolitan Fragments from a Splintered Isle: ‘Ceylonese’ Nationalism in Late-Colonial Sri Lanka.’ In Ethnicities, Diasporas and ‘Grounded’ Cosmopolitanism in Asia, edited by Joel S. Kahn, 59–69. Singapore: Asia Research Institute, 2004. Gallagher, Tom. Portugal: A Twentieth-Century Interpretation. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 1983. Gosano, Eddie. Hong Kong Farewell. Hong Kong: Greg England, 1997. Harper, TN. ‘Globalism and the Pursuit of Authenticity: The Making of a Diasporic Public Sphere in Singapore.’ Sojourn: Journal of Social Issues in Southeast Asia 12, no. 2 (1997): 261–292. Holdsworth, May, and Christopher Munn, eds. Dictionary of Hong Kong Biography. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2012.

198 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

King, Frank H.H., and Prescott Clarke, A Research Guide to Chinacoast Newspapers, 1822–1911. Cambridge, MA: Harvard University Press, 1965. Kreissler, Françoise. ‘In Search of Identity: The German Community in Shanghai, 1933–1945.’ In New Frontiers: Imperialism’s New Communities in East Asia, 1842–1953, edited by Robert Bickers and Christian Henriot, 211–230. Manchester: Manchester University Press, 2000. Lewis, Su Lin. Cities in Motion: Urban Life and Cosmopolitanism in Southeast Asia, 1920–1940. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2016. Li Xiyuan 黎熙元. ‘Nanyi biaoshi de shenfen’ 難以表述的身份——澳門人的 文化認同 (An Identity that is Difficult to Define—The Cultural Belonging of Macau’s People). Ershi yi shiji 二十 一世紀 92 (2005): 16–27. Lobo, Sandra Atáie. ‘The Languages of the Goan Periodical Press, 1820–1933.’ In Media and the Portuguese Empire, edited by José Lúis Garcia, Chandrika Kaul, Filipa Subtil and Alexandra Santos, 69–86. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2017. Lou Shenghua婁勝華. ‘Ershi shiji shang banye Aomen shehui de fazhan yu zhuanzhe’ 廿世紀上 半葉澳門社會的發展與轉折 (Macau’s Social Developments and Transition in the First Half of the Twentieth Century). Xingzheng 行政 108, no. 2 (2015), 439–452. Medeiros, António. Two Sides of One River: Nationalism and Ethnography in Galicia and Portugal. Oxford: Berghahn Books, 2012. Morais, José Simões. ‘Festejos de 1897 e o consul de Hong Kong.’ hojemacau, 20 July 2018. SarDessai, ManoharaRai. A History of Konkani Literature (From 1500 to 1992). New Delhi: Sahitya Akademi, 2000. Spangler, Torin. ‘Whose Colonial Project? Angolan Elites and the Colonial Exhibitions of the 1930s: Notes on the Special Magazine Edition of A provincial de Angola, 15 August 1934.’ e-Journal of Portuguese History 16, no. 1 (2018). Stanard, Matthew G. ‘Interwar Pro-Empire Propaganda and European Colonial Culture: Toward a Comparative Research Agenda.’ Journal of Contemporary History 44, no. 1 (2009): 27–48. Texeira, Manuel. A Gruta de Camões em Macau (The Camões Grotto in Macau). Macau: Fundação Macau e Instituto Internacional de Macau, 1999. Wang Zhicheng. Portuguese in Shanghai. Macau: Fundação Macau, 2004. Warner, Michael. Publics and Counterpublics. Brooklyn: Zone Books, 2000. Wright, Arnold. Twentieth Century Impressions of Hongkong, Shanghai and other Treaty Ports of China. London: Lloyd’s Greater Britain Pub. Co., 1908.



Epilogue: A Place in the Sun Abstract As the Second World War unfolded in Hong Kong, it created various crises that intensified pre-existing racial tensions in the colony. In exchange for the liberties and safety of being ‘neutral’ or third nationals, Anglicized Macanese rushed to revoke their British status in favor of Portuguese certificates. Some sought refuge in Macau, where they would live, perhaps for the f irst time ever, side-by-side with Macanese subjects who were different in terms of cultural and political orientation. Despite acquiring Portuguese status, three Anglophile Macanese—Eddie Gosano, Leo d’Almada e Castro and Clotilde Barretto—continued to work for the British government, risking their lives for the BAAG. The Epilogue ends with the aftermath of the war and a reappraisal of the resilience of identity. Keywords: Second World War, war evacuation, Japanese occupation, BAAG, second diaspora, identity

In 1937, Japan launched a full-scale war on China, sending thousands of refugees fleeing to Hong Kong and Macau. The consequences of a sudden increase in population reverberated across the British colony, putting enormous pressure on the government’s housing and welfare provisions.1 By the late 1930s, the competition for resources between Hong Kong’s diverse communities became apparent, causing new lines of social and racial disparity to surface. This was marked by emerging discussions on social injustice, directed at the government’s treatment of ‘Hongkong citizens,’ who were then composed of 1,500 British subjects of Chinese, Portuguese, Indian and Eurasian ethnicity. In 1939, the colonial government’s proposal of an income tax to finance war gifts to Britain met objections from the business

1 Carroll, A Concise History of Hong Kong, 116.

Chan, C.S., The Macanese Diaspora in British Hong Kong. A Century of Transimperial Drifting. Amsterdam: Amsterdam University Press, 2021 doi: 10.5117/9789463729253_epil

200 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

community and local residents.2 The editor of the South China Morning Post protested, writing, ‘The upper ranks of the Government Service are not open to the Hongkong citizen: he has no vote nor does he enjoy the full privileges of a British subject—his nationality is only stressed for taxation purposes.’ The editor stressed that the dominant Chinese population had dual alliance and dual commitment to China’s cries for aid, urging the colonial government not to regard Hong Kong ‘as an everlasting orange, to be squeezed as required.’3 In issues that required the allocation of resources, the colonial government’s obvious prioritization of the European population left local-born British subjects questioning the meaning of their status. One resident asked why local communities paid taxes and volunteered in the defense corps only to have their children denied access to European-exclusive schools that welcomed European and Siberian refugees. 4 In June, the government ordered a compulsory evacuation of European women and children. On 1 July 1940, it announced the registration, without guarantee, of ‘British women and children of Portuguese descent’ at Club Lusitano and Club de Recreio.5 Within two hours, 1,381 Macanese women and children registered, 270 through Club Lusitano and 1,111 through Club de Recreio.6 On 5 July, the first wave of evacuees, all Britons, arrived in Manila. There was, however, still no news on how and where non-Europeans would be evacuated. On 6 July, the Portuguese Consul of Hong Kong, F.P. de V. Soares, urged Portuguese nationals to leave for Macau, which would remain ‘neutral’ throughout the war, to avoid future panic should emergency arise.7 By mid-July, 1,400 Macanese had registered at the Portuguese Consulate for evacuation and at least two hundred had arrived in Macau.8 2 ‘Mr. M.K. Lo: Unsuitable and cannot be Equitably Collected Gesture of Loyalty,’ South China Morning Post, 10 November 1939, 8. 3 ‘Grand Squeeze,’ South China Morning Post, 13 October 1939, 8. 4 The government finally made a compromise with the War Revenue Ordinance of 1940 which divided the proposed income taxation into property tax, salaries tax and profits tax. For the resident’s opinion, see Local Taxpayer, ‘Hongkong Minorities, To the Editor, S.C.M.P.,’ South China Morning Post, 8 November 1939, 8. For the Ordinance, see ‘War Tax Def inition,’ South China Morning Post, 17 June 1940, 17. 5 ‘Portuguese Women can Register To-morrow for Evacuation,’ South China Morning Post, 2 July 1940, 8. 6 ‘Reluctant to Go: British Nationals of Portuguese Race 1,381 Registrations,’ South China Morning Post, 4 July 1940, 8. 7 ‘Leave Colony Now, Consul Urges Portuguese to Forestall Panic,’ South China Morning Post, 6 July 1940, 8. 8 ‘Portuguese to Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 15 July 1940, 7; ‘Influx to Macao: Portuguese Arriving from Hongkong,’ South China Morning Post,19 July 1940, 12.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

201

These events, coupled with rising war anxieties, sparked public outrage. Why should the Macanese have the privilege of leaving Hong Kong while other Eurasian communities waited in fear and uncertainty? In a series of correspondence, Hong Kong citizens wrote to a local newspaper to exchange views over the evacuation plan, launching a debate as to whether the Portuguese were in fact Eurasians. Over the pages of South China Morning Post, a resident asked, ‘Can a Eurasian be considered European when physiologically otherwise, and can a Eurasian become Chinese when his appearance is European?’9 One angry resident, responding to the question and condemning the colonial government’s decision to register ‘British-Portuguese’ before ‘British Eurasians’ maintained that the Macanese were Eurasians, writing, ‘the race called Macanese or Goanese born in Hong Kong, Macao or India is strictly Eurasian,’ and added, ‘the race of Portuguese Eurasian British Subjects […] only claimed Birth Certificates and British citizenship when the alarm was sounded.’10 This led a respondent, named ‘Non-Eurasian,’ to claim that most Macanese in Hong Kong had grandparents who were pure Portuguese on both sides and thus, generally did not have Chinese blood like other Eurasians. ‘Non-Eurasian’ wrote, ‘Just because some of [the Macanese] were [Eurasian] does not cover an entire race, and if some of us [were] not quite blonde it [did] not mean that we are mixed.’11 As public debates regarding the evacuation plan ignited, racial tension in the colony escalated. On 19 July, a resident under the name ‘Portuguese woman,’ anxious of being sent to Macau where she expected to starve, asked if the colonial government’s refusal to evacuate the Macanese with Europeans was due to fears the Macanese would compete against Europeans for passage or concerns that the Macanese might be put in the same cabin as a ‘true blue European.’12 Another resident who claimed to be ‘Portuguese’ pointed out that ‘Portuguese woman’ should not be considered ‘Portuguese’ if she were a British subject and dismissed her concerns regarding Macau by informing readers that his wife and children had been putting on weight since evacuating to the nearby Portuguese colony.13 The local newspaper, reflecting the general atmosphere of dissatisfaction, criticized the evacuation 9 10 11 12 7. 13

M.M., ‘Nationality,’ South China Morning Post, 12 July 1940, 7. O.I.C.U., ‘Correspondence: Status of Eurasians,’ South China Morning Post, 16 July 1940, 7. Non-Eurasian, ‘Eurasians and Others,’ South China Morning Post, 18 July 1940, 8. Portuguese Woman, ‘Registration and Evacuation,’ South China Morning Post, 19 July 1940, Portuguese, ‘Portuguese and Macao,’ South China Morning Post, 20 July 1940, 7.

202 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

plan as discriminatory, premature and clumsy.14 The Second World War, a tragic but important historical development, sent many Macanese back to Macau where they sought sanctuary from Japanese attack and were forced to live in tension with Macau’s Macanese. About ninety percent of the Macanese population in Hong Kong sought refuge in Macau throughout the course of the war.15 Just as it had in the community’s initial migration to Hong Kong, the move emerged in response to the push-and-pull factors that continually linked Hong Kong and Macau. Only this time, the two cities suddenly came face-to-face with the same threat of war.

Being Macanese in wartime Hong Kong As seeking refuge in Macau required Macanese subjects to have Portuguese status, Anglicized subjects dashed to revoke their British status in exchange for Portuguese certificates. The realities of war not only prompted the movement of the Macanese back to Macau, but also overturned the practical importance of being British, as opposed to being Portuguese, overnight. Within a decade, the number of registrations under the Portuguese Consulate increased from 945 in 1930 to 1,494 in 1940.16 In December 1941, the Japanese invaded Hong Kong. Portugal remained neutral, allowing Macanese subjects in Hong Kong to roam freely. Wary of life under the Japanese, many of the remaining Macanese were desperate to flee Hong Kong. They rushed to the residence of Hong Kong’s acting Portuguese Consul, Francisco Soares, likewise demanding to revoke their British status and be issued Portuguese certificates.17 Amongst these were renowned Anglophile Macanese leaders. Although hesitant at first to leave the British colony where he had built his life and career, José Pedro Braga forfeited his British status in June 1942 and arrived in Macau as a ‘Portuguese’ subject.18 There, he joined his son Jack, who had been working in Macau since 1924 and was simultaneously a resident of the Portuguese colony and a member of the staff of the British Consulate (Fig. 11). In August 1942, Leo d’Almada e Castro wrote to the Governor of Macau, seeking arrangements for himself and Tilly. They arrived in Macau 14 ‘Public Grievance,’ South China Morning Post, 25 July 1940, 10. 15 Stuart Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People): The Portuguese Refugee Community in Wartime Macau,’ in Wartime Macau: Under the Japanese Shadow, ed. Geoffrey C. Gunn (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2016), 120. 16 Dias, Diáspora Macaense, 159, 17 Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People),’ 118. 18 Braga, Making Impressions, 445; Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People),’ 119.

202 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

plan as discriminatory, premature and clumsy.14 The Second World War, a tragic but important historical development, sent many Macanese back to Macau where they sought sanctuary from Japanese attack and were forced to live in tension with Macau’s Macanese. About ninety percent of the Macanese population in Hong Kong sought refuge in Macau throughout the course of the war.15 Just as it had in the community’s initial migration to Hong Kong, the move emerged in response to the push-and-pull factors that continually linked Hong Kong and Macau. Only this time, the two cities suddenly came face-to-face with the same threat of war.

Being Macanese in wartime Hong Kong As seeking refuge in Macau required Macanese subjects to have Portuguese status, Anglicized subjects dashed to revoke their British status in exchange for Portuguese certificates. The realities of war not only prompted the movement of the Macanese back to Macau, but also overturned the practical importance of being British, as opposed to being Portuguese, overnight. Within a decade, the number of registrations under the Portuguese Consulate increased from 945 in 1930 to 1,494 in 1940.16 In December 1941, the Japanese invaded Hong Kong. Portugal remained neutral, allowing Macanese subjects in Hong Kong to roam freely. Wary of life under the Japanese, many of the remaining Macanese were desperate to flee Hong Kong. They rushed to the residence of Hong Kong’s acting Portuguese Consul, Francisco Soares, likewise demanding to revoke their British status and be issued Portuguese certificates.17 Amongst these were renowned Anglophile Macanese leaders. Although hesitant at first to leave the British colony where he had built his life and career, José Pedro Braga forfeited his British status in June 1942 and arrived in Macau as a ‘Portuguese’ subject.18 There, he joined his son Jack, who had been working in Macau since 1924 and was simultaneously a resident of the Portuguese colony and a member of the staff of the British Consulate (Fig. 11). In August 1942, Leo d’Almada e Castro wrote to the Governor of Macau, seeking arrangements for himself and Tilly. They arrived in Macau 14 ‘Public Grievance,’ South China Morning Post, 25 July 1940, 10. 15 Stuart Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People): The Portuguese Refugee Community in Wartime Macau,’ in Wartime Macau: Under the Japanese Shadow, ed. Geoffrey C. Gunn (Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2016), 120. 16 Dias, Diáspora Macaense, 159, 17 Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People),’ 118. 18 Braga, Making Impressions, 445; Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People),’ 119.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

203

Figure 11  José Maria ‘Jack’ Braga’s wartime license to possess a weapon

J.M. Braga’s license to carry a .45 Colt pistol in Macau during the war, possibly loaned to him by the British Consul in case a Japanese agent provocateur attacked due to his affiliation to the British Consulate (courtesy of Stuart Braga).19

the following month. D’Almada’s document, numbered 3320, identified him as ‘Latin.’ He brought along a certificate issued by the Portuguese Consul and in Macau, served as the Inspector of refugee centers. 20 Cassiano Azedo also renounced his British nationality in 1939.21 An intelligence report located in Washington, D.C. reported: ‘all they had to do was to sign a paper relinquishing all rights as a British subject to become a Portuguese.’22 Within a brief period of time, Soares issued six hundred certificates of Portuguese nationality.23 Anglicized Macanese subjects who served in the Hong Kong Volunteer Defence Corps were sent to prison. D’Almada’s brother Christopher, who commanded the No. 5 Portuguese Machine-gun Company of the HKVOC, spent the war years at a POW camp in Shamshuipo and later on Argyle Street, his connection to the outside world maintained only by letters, books, food and clothing items. Club Lusitano, once a venue for middle-class Macanese activity served as a temporary shelter. The Macanese also set up the Portuguese Residents’ Association (PRA) for the distribution of bread, rice and sugar supplied by the Japanese to the community in four centers,

19 Information provided by Stuart Braga. Original copy of license from J.M. Braga Papers, MS 4300/3, series 2, external box 32/5, National Library of Australia, Canberra. 20 Ruy Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 21 ‘Inscrições consulares de portugueses no Consulado Geral de Portugal em Hong Kong (1889–1940)’ (Portuguese Consular Registration at the Consulate General of Portugal in Hong Kong (1889–1940)), S3.E123.07/40494, Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon. 22 Cited in Felicia Yap, ‘Portuguese Communities in East and Southeast Asia during the Japanese Occupation,’ in Jarnagin, The Making of the Luso-Asian World, Vol. 1, 211. 23 Forjaz, Familias Macaenses, Vol. III, 1st ed., 829.

204 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

three in Kowloon and one on Hong Kong Island.24 Life was very tough. The PRA provided a meager allowance to the elderly Macanese, charging them more than the rice and bread provided.25 As the Japanese considered the Portuguese as neutrals or third-nationals, Macanese who remained outside the camps displayed, more visibly than ever, their Portuguese roots. José Pedro Braga’s son Paul, wrote to his brother James in 1943 with the following: three Portuguese lads came up from Frank Soares’ house […] They had Portuguese flags tied around their arms and little flags on the lapels of their coats—they were 100% Third Nationals. They told us they were able to creep about like this by slipping down side-roads and avoiding the Japs as much as possible, and when accosted, pointed to the flag of a neutral country—their fatherland, this gave us courage to go out so the girls got out some green, red and yellow bits of cloth and sewed most excellent Portuguese flags. (We had become ‘Our People’ indeed!).26

A number of Hong Kong-born Macanese continued to serve the British Crown after arriving in Macau, particularly by joining the British Army Aid Group (BAAG), which helped correlate military intelligence crucial to the British army and the Allied camp. In May 1943, Joy Wilson, head of the underground BAAG in Macau, asked Eddie Gosano to replace her. Although fearful that his participation might drag Portugal into the war, Gosano accepted. He worked for the BAAG under the codename ‘Phoenix.’27 A Macau Macanese, Rogério ‘Roger’ Lobo, joined the BAAG alongside Gosano.28 On 2 September 1943, the British Consul, Mr. John Reeves, handed an attaché case of secret files to Gosano. Upon hearing rumors that the Japanese were about to invade Macau, he burned the documents inside the case. The rumor turned out to be false, resulting in a fall out between Reeves and Gosano. This led the Macanese to question what the Britons had done for his imprisoned brothers in Hong Kong while he was risking his life on behalf of the Crown. He wrote, I could not help reflecting on how I volunteered to serve without pay in the prisoner-of-war camp aiding the wounding, whether Chinese 24 Braga, ‘Nossa Gente (Our People),’ 119. 25 Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 26 Paul Braga to James Braga, 22 October 1943, Paul Braga Papers, in the possession of Stuart Braga. Cited in Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 369. 27 Gosano, Farewell Hong Kong, 26–27. 28 After the war, Lobo became a prominent leader of the community and member of the Legislative Council.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

205

or British nationals. And it was still with me that I was volunteering without pay as head of the Macao BAAG, risking my life daily in behalf of the British. What care did they show for my brother Zinho, slaving in Japanese coal mines, or for two other brothers languishing in prison camps for the duration?29

He gave up his position and asked Chinese comprador Y.C. Liang to replace him as head of the BAAG. His role in the BAAG, nevertheless, exemplified the extension of pre-existing Anglo-Macanese collaborations, this time, from Hong Kong to Macau. Just as it did a century ago, the movement of the Macanese between Hong Kong and Macau continued to interweave the histories of these two cities. On 8 May 1945, the Allied forces claimed victory in Europe. While planning for the restoration of British rule over Hong Kong, the British government sought for the assistance of D’Almada. Through Eddie Gosano, the British government asked D’A lmada to join the Hong Kong Planning Unit in Park Street, London and arranged for him and Clotilde Barretto to travel overland, first through China to Kunming.30 The two disappeared to C.Y. Liang’s house, obtained one suitcase each, reached the wharf and got on a junk. From 12 June to 6 July, D’Almada and Barretto traveled across China by tracking, sampan, bicycle, river junk, sedan chair and truck guided by the BAAG. In Kunming, they flew to Calcutta, then to Cairo and finally, London.31 In Macau, Liang, Gosano and Lobo embarked on a secret mission for the BAAG to help recover Hong Kong. In August 1945, the three met with two local Eurasian figures, Robert Kotewall and Lo Man-kam to stir Chinese support towards the re-establishment of a British administration under Franklin Gimson. On 23 August, Liang headed to Stanley and handed Gimson instructions from the British government. Five days later, Gimson, acting as Hong Kong’s Governor, made a broadcast declaring the resumption of British control over Hong Kong.32 As Hong Kong was liberated, D’Almada and Barretto boarded the Canadian light cruiser HMCS Ontario and returned to their colonial abode. Wars, which bring unfortunate tragedies and cause widespread crises, are moments that reveal identity as a highly fluid and ambiguous survival tool. 29 Gosano, Farewell Hong Kong, 34; Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 30 Gosano, Farewell Hong Kong, 29. 31 Ruy Barretto, ‘Family Chronology.’ 32 Brian Edgar, ‘Myths, Messages and Manoeuvres: Franklin Gimson in August 1945,’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong 58 (2018), 17, 22.

206 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Anglophile Macanese showed that they could be simultaneously Portuguese and British, with non-conflicting intentions. While Portuguese certificates kept them out of the POW camps, the strong association Anglophile Macanese had with British Hong Kong facilitated their uninterrupted collaboration with the British government. The Macanese case shows how individuals freely shifted between various cultural worlds to strategically cope with social circumstances and life challenges. Identity, at different intersections, means something distinct for the individual. Rethinking his family’s experience during the war, Stuart Braga remarked: It must have been the first time that any of the Bragas other than the patriarch, J.P. Braga, had thought in terms of the Portuguese phrase Nossa Gente, ‘Our People,’ indicating a proud cultural and patriotic identity with the great discoverers, conquerors and empire-builders four centuries earlier.33

For many others, being ‘Portuguese’ during the war was a pragmatic decision. After the resumption of British rule over Hong Kong, the Macanese who had desperately sought for Portuguese certificates made their way back to Hong Kong and continued their lives as British subjects and citizens of the colony.

Rethinking identity as response In an address presented at Club Lusitano in 1949, D’Almada’s speech echoed the practical purposes of the Portuguese identity during the war: Paradoxically as it may sound, it is nevertheless true that never was the name of Portuguese at a greater premium in Hong Kong than immediately after its surrender to the Japanese. People whose only claim to have anything Portuguese in them lay in that they had eaten Portuguese sardines, clamoured for Portuguese identity Cards. Others of Portuguese descent and who had previously been at pains to conceal their origin, now openly wore arm-bands bearing the Portuguese colours. All of them sought refuge in Macao, the only place on the China Coast where the Union Jack flew uninterruptedly throughout the Pacific War. That war is now over. Those pseudo-Portuguese have successfully eliminated all trace of the

33 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 369.

206 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Anglophile Macanese showed that they could be simultaneously Portuguese and British, with non-conflicting intentions. While Portuguese certificates kept them out of the POW camps, the strong association Anglophile Macanese had with British Hong Kong facilitated their uninterrupted collaboration with the British government. The Macanese case shows how individuals freely shifted between various cultural worlds to strategically cope with social circumstances and life challenges. Identity, at different intersections, means something distinct for the individual. Rethinking his family’s experience during the war, Stuart Braga remarked: It must have been the first time that any of the Bragas other than the patriarch, J.P. Braga, had thought in terms of the Portuguese phrase Nossa Gente, ‘Our People,’ indicating a proud cultural and patriotic identity with the great discoverers, conquerors and empire-builders four centuries earlier.33

For many others, being ‘Portuguese’ during the war was a pragmatic decision. After the resumption of British rule over Hong Kong, the Macanese who had desperately sought for Portuguese certificates made their way back to Hong Kong and continued their lives as British subjects and citizens of the colony.

Rethinking identity as response In an address presented at Club Lusitano in 1949, D’Almada’s speech echoed the practical purposes of the Portuguese identity during the war: Paradoxically as it may sound, it is nevertheless true that never was the name of Portuguese at a greater premium in Hong Kong than immediately after its surrender to the Japanese. People whose only claim to have anything Portuguese in them lay in that they had eaten Portuguese sardines, clamoured for Portuguese identity Cards. Others of Portuguese descent and who had previously been at pains to conceal their origin, now openly wore arm-bands bearing the Portuguese colours. All of them sought refuge in Macao, the only place on the China Coast where the Union Jack flew uninterruptedly throughout the Pacific War. That war is now over. Those pseudo-Portuguese have successfully eliminated all trace of the

33 Braga, ‘Making Impressions,’ 369.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

207

sardine from their systems. The others have gone back to their former pretence and have resumed their false colours.34

The century-long narrative of the Macanese experience in Hong Kong reveals the interchangeability of individual identity. People labeled themselves ‘Portuguese,’ ‘British,’ ‘Hong Kong’ or ‘Macanese,’ sometimes distinctively, other times concurrently in the face of changing historical situations. After the war, Gosano and D’Almada went on to take on bigger but dissimilar roles in the colony. Gosano was initially bitter towards the British Crown’s promise of what he called ‘nothing more […] than second-class citizenship, a penurious livelihood, and no material gratitude for years of voluntary service in behalf of the British Empire.’ He tried to ask for D’Almada’s help in changing his previous status of equivalence to a ‘Chinese medical off icer’ but to no avail. Despite feeling the Britons never fully accepted Hong Kong-born British subjects of Luso-Asian descent as equals, Gosano stayed in Hong Kong for another decade or so, starting private practice while volunteering as a medical captain in the Hong Kong Regiment of the Defense Force. In 1950, he served in the Urban Council and five years later, was promoted to Major at the Hong Kong Regiment. Postwar Hong Kong offered Gosano and his family the opportunity to enter the world of middle-class Britons, which he described as ‘the pinnacle of high society.’ They participated in official celebrations and joined events at the Governor’s garden. Hong Kong, however, would be not be Gosano’s final destination. In 1960, he took an offer to move to the United States where he was promised an internship at the St. Joseph’s Hospital in San Francisco. Hong Kong’s colonial inequalities left a prominent mark in Gosano’s memory. He claimed to have departed Hong Kong with ‘never a day of regret for [the] change to a free country with all the opportunity for anyone despite race, gender or creed.’35 In the United States, he finally found his place, away from the ingratitude of the British colonial government and persisting inequalities in the workplace. Leo d’Almada e Castro resumed public service after the war. In 1946, he was appointed as President of the General Military Court and served in the court trials of war criminals. Acknowledged by the colonial government as a trustworthy collaborator, D’Almada’s career took off in the next few decades: he was the first Macanese barrister to become King’s Counsel in 1947 and 34 Leo d’Almada e Castro, ‘Some Notes on the Portuguese in Hong Kong,’ Boletim Instituto Português de Hong Kong, no. 2 (1949), 274–275. 35 Gosano, Farewell Hong Kong, 36, 41, 59, 51.

208 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

served in both the Legislative and Executive Councils. Clotilde Barretto was appointed as a Justice of the Peace and emerged as a prominent female leader in Hong Kong. She served in the Diocesan Girls’ School Council and the Hongkong Women’s International Club. While the second Macanese diaspora from Hong Kong to other cities gradually took off, some would make the move from Macau to Hong Kong and join the British colonial administration. Following his work for the BAAG, Roger Lobo settled permanently in Hong Kong. He became a member of the Urban Council and the Legislative and Executive Councils. Notably, the Hong Kong experience was different for each individual: Gosano never regretted forfeiting life in Hong Kong for better opportunities in the United States but D’Almada continued to identify strongly with colonial Hong Kong. Reflecting on a life spent in the colony, he expressed in an application for full British citizenship in 1990, ‘I have never thought of myself as other than British.’36 Leo’s application was finally accepted in 1991, five years before he died in his home in Portugal at the age of ninety-two. Self-perception is fluid, multilayered and often changing depending on circumstances. When asked about his identity, D’Almada’s brother Christopher answered: ‘Não sou português, nem ingles, sou um rapaz de Hong Kong’ (I am not Portuguese, not English, I’m a Hong Kong man).37 In another interview with The New York Times regarding the future citizenship of 11,500 ethnic minorities, Christopher expressed, ‘I feel and talk and think like a Britisher.’38 Christopher retired in Hong Kong. After moving to England in the 1950s, Brian Edgar’s mother ‘identified with being middle class but dis-identified with being Eurasian.’ For the first ten years of her time there, she sometimes went to London to play mahjong with her friends, but ‘she never emphasised this [Asian] side of herself and in every way she could she acted as a white, middle-class English woman.’ Edgar recalls that when he was young, his mother would tell him about her Chinese mother yet in old age, she maintained that she was ‘Portuguese.’ By the time of her death, she had already forgotten most of her Portuguese language.39 As was consistently demonstrated in the first and second Macanese diaspora, being ‘British’ or ‘Portuguese’ meant something different at various points for Macanese individuals, whose lives were shaped by dissimilar social circumstances, 36 The application was made prior to and in relation to the 1997 handover. D’Almada, ‘My Re-application for British Citizenship.’ 37 De Sá, The Boys from Macau, 11. 38 ‘11,500 Facing Statelessness in Hong Kong,’ The New York Times, 17 August 1986, 5. 39 Edgar, ‘Identity,’ 26 January 2021.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

209

practical considerations and individual upbringing. Drifting from one place to another and from one identity to another can be a ceaseless and lifelong experience. A century of Macanese activities in Hong Kong hopefully tells us that men and women cannot and should not be easily defined by labels that restrict a fuller understanding of lived experiences beyond the frameworks of colonialism, imperialism, nationalism and race.

Towards a world without labels Normative reality orchestrates self-identification, which is manifested in the various ethnic and cultural identities that individuals adopt throughout a lifetime. The shifts in the self-identification of the Macanese situated them beyond the frameworks of the colony and the nation-state. As drifting polyglot migrants, Macanese individuals had a cosmopolitan outlook, anchoring themselves to wherever they found growth. From a transnational perspective, the Macanese ceaselessly maintained their connections, both real and imagined, to Macau, Hong Kong and Portugal. It should be noted, once more, that although the Macanese built their lives in Hong Kong, Hong Kong was certainly not all they had. Jim Silva, a Macanese born in Hong Kong in 1928, observed the Macanese community as different from the colony’s British Eurasians whose roots were more deeply tied to the city. According to Silva, ‘[the] filhos de Macau (sons of Macau) were secure. We had our place, we knew our place, we accepted our place. Unfair or unjust as things may have been, we had no hang-ups. We had our own world and our community.’40 Having grown up in 1960s England, Brian Edgar maintained that more than anything else, ‘it was being YOUNG that was important.’ It would not only be until 1991, when for the first time the census asked for one’s ethnicity, that he would realize he belonged to the category of ‘Asian British.’ But even then, Edgar remarked that ‘This did not seem important at all.’ Asked about his identity, he writes, ‘I don’t eat fish, I’m not a Catholic, Portuguese will never mean as much to me as French[.]’41 As opposed to understanding race and ethnicity as definite entities that define individuals and communities, the Macanese experience reveals race and identity cannot be taken as crucial, definitive markers. Rather, they should be reflections

40 Frederic A. (Jim) Silva, Things I Remember (Macau: Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2010), 13. 41 Edgar, ‘Identity,’ 26 January 2021.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

209

practical considerations and individual upbringing. Drifting from one place to another and from one identity to another can be a ceaseless and lifelong experience. A century of Macanese activities in Hong Kong hopefully tells us that men and women cannot and should not be easily defined by labels that restrict a fuller understanding of lived experiences beyond the frameworks of colonialism, imperialism, nationalism and race.

Towards a world without labels Normative reality orchestrates self-identification, which is manifested in the various ethnic and cultural identities that individuals adopt throughout a lifetime. The shifts in the self-identification of the Macanese situated them beyond the frameworks of the colony and the nation-state. As drifting polyglot migrants, Macanese individuals had a cosmopolitan outlook, anchoring themselves to wherever they found growth. From a transnational perspective, the Macanese ceaselessly maintained their connections, both real and imagined, to Macau, Hong Kong and Portugal. It should be noted, once more, that although the Macanese built their lives in Hong Kong, Hong Kong was certainly not all they had. Jim Silva, a Macanese born in Hong Kong in 1928, observed the Macanese community as different from the colony’s British Eurasians whose roots were more deeply tied to the city. According to Silva, ‘[the] filhos de Macau (sons of Macau) were secure. We had our place, we knew our place, we accepted our place. Unfair or unjust as things may have been, we had no hang-ups. We had our own world and our community.’40 Having grown up in 1960s England, Brian Edgar maintained that more than anything else, ‘it was being YOUNG that was important.’ It would not only be until 1991, when for the first time the census asked for one’s ethnicity, that he would realize he belonged to the category of ‘Asian British.’ But even then, Edgar remarked that ‘This did not seem important at all.’ Asked about his identity, he writes, ‘I don’t eat fish, I’m not a Catholic, Portuguese will never mean as much to me as French[.]’41 As opposed to understanding race and ethnicity as definite entities that define individuals and communities, the Macanese experience reveals race and identity cannot be taken as crucial, definitive markers. Rather, they should be reflections

40 Frederic A. (Jim) Silva, Things I Remember (Macau: Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2010), 13. 41 Edgar, ‘Identity,’ 26 January 2021.

210 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

of social situations and how individuals respond to an external world of challenges and a personal world of values and ambitions. It is undeniable that imperialism generated new racial constructs that were marked by racism and inequality; these biased constructs, unfortunately, continue to manifest in contemporary social systems and everyday culture. Within such constructs, the Macanese strove to find their place in the sun. Many worked assiduously in low-paying jobs and had pleasant lives in Hong Kong. Some managed to establish themselves as leaders of the Macanese community. Others sought for advancement outside of Hong Kong, using the colony as a stepping-stone that opened up other opportunities. Colonial Hong Kong provided a home, permanent or temporary, for the Macanese to build their lives around the resources provided by the government, foreign enterprises and missionaries. As much as one-sided narratives of the Macanese as ‘victims’ have shown, the tension that emerged between Hong Kong-born and Macau-born Macanese demonstrate the problem of examining human communities through singular racial, ethnic, colonial or national lens. Unearthing the complex layers of identity and the irregular shifts in self-perception through individual narratives open up the problem of overemphasizing or over-celebrating identities, which is reflected in the growing number of postcolonial literature on mixed-race communities, particularly regarding ‘hybridity’ and Eurasians. 42 By simplifying individuals as members of one particular community, we are in danger of offering only one side of a story and flattening out the dynamic narratives that identity shifts can tell us about the creative ways humans responded to social circumstances and historical transitions. While I cannot address deep-seated problems of racial prejudice in this book, I encourage the reader to listen carefully to the stories of individuals and embrace them as products of their everyday experiences. There is no def initive tag to suff iciently encompass the identity of the Macanese in colonial Hong Kong. Their actions, more than results of identifying as ‘Portuguese,’ ‘British’ or ‘Hong Kong’ people were uniformly responses to the challenges of life in Macau and Hong Kong. For over a century, the diverse ways Macanese individuals sought to grow, advance and pursue ambitions have shown the malleability of identity and the 42 See, for instance, Robert Young, Colonial Desire: Hybridity in Theory, Culture and Race (New York: Routledge, 1995); Emma J. Teng, Eurasian: Mixed Identities in the United States, China and Hong Kong, 1842–1943 (California: University of California Press, 2013); Antonio L. Rappa, Saudade: The Culture and Security of Eurasian Communities in Southeast Asia (Singapore: Ethos Books, 2013).

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

211

creative potentials for individuals to freely interpret and recast notions of race, nationalism, otherness and difference. By perceiving these notions as dynamic and vibrant processes of change, we can hopefully look beyond identity ‘labels’ and come to appreciate members of racial, ethnic or national communities as unique humans shaped by individual experience and cosmopolitan participation in an increasingly interconnected world. As we live in a world where social differences and racial tension are ubiquitous, the stories of the Macanese in Hong Kong hopefully reveals a world shaped but not dominated by discourses of difference, hate, resistance and racial constructs. To a certain extent, this echoes the conclusion to Peau noire, masques blancs (Black Skin, White Masks) where Frantz Fanon wrote, ‘In the world through which I travel, I am endlessly creating myself.’43 Today, individuals and communities continue to, voluntarily and involuntarily, move around the world. Every day in the newspapers, we read about racial disparity, religious violence and social inequalities that spiral out of racial, ethnic and cultural differences. We live in a world that claims to be striving towards progress and equality but is obsessed with notions of race, alienation and skin color. I hope this book inspires every reader to look beyond the surface and appreciate that every individual is his or her own creation. If we can acknowledge one another as individuals shaped by changing personal experiences, kinship and cosmopolitan values, then perhaps we can begin to live with less racial tags, judgment and hate, and move towards a world of love, kindness and compassion.

Bibliography Unpublished primary sources Arquivo Histórico Diplomático, Lisbon S3.E123.07/40494, ‘Inscrições consulares de portugueses no Consulado Geral de Portugal em Hong Kong (1889–1940).’ National Library of Australia, Canberra MS 4300/3, series 2, external box 32/5. Ruy Barretto Family Papers, Hong Kong 43 Fanon was fighting for the creation of an alternative narrative away from the shackles of colonial and/or white discourse. His suggestion continues to make sense in the face of one-sided narratives in today’s world. Frantz Fanon, Black Skin, White Masks, trans. Richard Phil (New York: Grove Press, 2008), 204.

212 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

Barretto, Ruy. ‘Family Chronology based on Leo and Tilly d’Almada e Castro’s Documents, 1904–1996.’ D’Almada e Castro, Leo. ‘My Re-application for British Citizenship under Section 4 (5) of the British Nationality Act 1981.’ 15 October 1990.

Published primary sources D’Almada e Castro, Leo. ‘Some Notes on the Portuguese in Hong Kong.’ Boletim Instituto Português de Hong Kong, no. 2 (1949): 265–276.

Newspapers South China Morning Post, Hong Kong The New York Times, New York

Secondary sources Carroll, John M. A Concise History of Hong Kong. New York: Rowman & Littlefield, 2007. Braga, Stuart. ‘Nossa Gente (Our People): The Portuguese Refugee Community in Wartime Macau.’ In Wartime Macau: Under the Japanese Shadow, edited by Geoffrey C. Gunn, 116–140. Hong Kong: Hong Kong University Press, 2016. —. ‘Making Impressions: The Adaptation of a Portuguese Family to Hong Kong, 1700–1950.’ PhD diss., Australian National University, 2012. De Sá, Luís Andrade. The Boys from Macau. Macau: Fundação Oriente, Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1999. Dias, Alfredo Gomes. Diáspora Macaense: Macau, Hong Kong, Xangai (1850–1952) (The Macanese Diaspora: Macao, Hong Kong, Shanghai (1850–1952)). Lisbon: Centro Científico de Cultura de Macau, 2014. Edgar, Brian. ‘Myths, Messages and Manoeuvres: Franklin Gimson in August 1945.’ Journal of the Royal Asiatic Society Hong Kong 58 (2018): 7–29. Fanon, Frantz. Black Skin, White Masks. Translated by Richard Phil. New York: Grove Press, 2008. Forjaz, Jorge. Familias Macaenses, Vol. III. 1st ed. Macau: Instituto Cultural de Macau, 1996. Gosano, Eddie. Hong Kong Farewell. Hong Kong: Greg England, 1997. Rappa, Antonio L. Saudade: The Culture and Security of Eurasian Communities in Southeast Asia. Singapore: Ethos Books, 2013. Silva, Frederic A. (Jim). Things I Remember. Macau: Instituto Internacional de Macau, 2010.

Epilogue: A Pl ace in the Sun

213

Teng, Emma J. Eurasian: Mixed Identities in the United States, China and Hong Kong, 1842–1943. California: University of California Press, 2013. Yap, Felicia. ‘Portuguese Communities in East and Southeast Asia during the Japanese Occupation.’ In Portuguese and Luso-Asian Legacies in Southeast Asia, 1511–2011, Vol. 1: The Making of the Luso-Asian World, Intricacies & Engagement, edited by Laura Jarnagin, 205–228. Singapore: Institute of Southeast Asian Studies, 2011. Young, Robert. Colonial Desire: Hybridity in Theory, Culture and Race. New York: Routledge, 1995.



Appendix: Summary of Featured Macanese Individuals

Januário Agostinho de Almeida (b. 1887, Macau; d. 1954, Macau) Macau-born Januário Almeida worked as a clerk for the Hongkong Post Office, teaching Portuguese in his spare time alongside his wife, Corina Sara Antunes de Almeida. In 1929, he founded Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong, a nationalistic organization meant to reinvigorate the Portuguese sentiments of Macanese youth and encourage the teaching and learning of the Portuguese language. Almeida left Hong Kong in 1937 for Japan. He later returned to Macau and lived at 11 Rua de Padre Antonio. He passed away at St. Rafael Hospital in 1954 at the age of sixty-seven. João António Gonçalves Barretto (b. 1824, Macau; d. 1881, Zambales) Often referred to as J.A. Barretto in records, Barretto was from the fifth generation of a family of traders, businessmen and philanthropists from Goa. With both his father and brother working for Scottish trading firm Jardine, Matheson & Co. in Macau and Canton, Barretto joined its Hong Kong branch in 1841 and stayed with the company for three decades. Barretto was best known as one of the two founders of Club Lusitano and served as its f irst president. He departed for the Philippines in the late 1870s to invest in tobacco plantations and passed away in Zambales, Luzon in 1881. Clotilde Belmira Barretto (b. 1908, Hong Kong; d. 2005, Cascais) Clotilde ‘Tilly’ Barretto attended the Diocesan Girls’ School. In 1933, she married Leo d’Almada e Castro and subsequently became more involved with Hong Kong affairs. In 1939, she headed a team of Macanese women in raising funds for England under the auspices of the British War Organisation Fund (BWOF). In 1941, she received the St. John Ambulance Association Certificate and became a certified nurse. Alongside Leo, Tilly joined the Hong Kong Planning Unit in Park Street, London shortly before the surrender of the Japanese and the re-establishment of British colonial rule over Hong Kong. For her contributions, she was appointed a Justice of the Peace. José Pedro Braga (b. 1871, Hong Kong; d. 1944, Macau) Known more commonly as J.P., Braga was raised in the household of his maternal grandfather, Delfino Noronha. He studied in St. Joseph’s College

216 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

and later attended St. Xavier’s College and Roberts College in Calcutta. While working for Noronha & Sons, Braga published The Rights of Aliens in Hongkong and Odds and Ends. After Noronha’s death, Braga left his grandfather’s company and became the managing editor of the Hongkong Daily Telegraph and was appointed the Hong Kong correspondent for Reuters in 1906. He served on the Sanitary Board, the Kowloon Residents’ Association, and in 1929 was appointed as the first Macanese to serve in an unofficial capacity on the Legislative Council. Braga was awarded the Order of the British Empire in 1935. Leonardo d’Almada e Castro (b. 1815, Goa; d. 1875, Hong Kong) One of the first two Macanese to enter Hong Kong with the newly established colonial administration, Leonardo d’Almada e Castro served as chief clerk of the Colonial Secretary’s office and clerk of the Executive and Legislative Councils. As a non-Briton, he occupied a relatively high position in the government and was its highest-paid clerk in the early 1850s. A devout Catholic and philanthropist, D’Almada helped build a convent by generously selling a plot of land to the Italian Sisters at a low price in 1865. He died while still in service in 1875. Leonardo Horácio d’Almada e Castro (b. 1904, Hong Kong; d. 1996, Cascais) Leo d’Almada e Castro attended the University of Hong Kong before going to Oxford to read law. He returned to the colony after completing his studies and practiced law at the Hong Kong Bar. In 1934, D’Almada led the Kowloon Residents’ Association and in 1937 succeeded José Pedro Braga on the Legislative Council, making him the youngest person to serve as an unofficial member. Near the end of the Second World War, D’Almada and his wife Clotilde Barretto assisted the British in planning for the British recovery of Hong Kong following its liberation from the Japanese. He was awarded the Ordem de Cristo (Order of Christ) by the Portuguese government in 1949 and made Commander of Order of the British Empire in 1953. Carlos Augusto Montalto de Jesus (b. 1863, Hong Kong; d. 1932, Shanghai) Montalto de Jesus received education in St. Joseph’s College and was fluent in Portuguese, Spanish, French and English. He worked briefly as an administrative assistant for the Hongkong & Shanghai Bank and Jardine Matheson & Co. before leaving Hong Kong for other pursuits. A geographer, cartographer and historian, Montalto delivered public lectures for the Sociedade de Geografia de Lisboa (Lisbon Geographic Society) and the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society in Shanghai. He traveled and

Appendix: Summary of Featured Macanese Individuals

217

wrote extensively on the histories and developments of Macau, Shanghai and Portugal, his best-known works being Historic Macao and Historic Shanghai. Constancio Joaquim Gonsalves (b. 1839, Macau; d. 1906, Hong Kong) Gonsalves joined the Hongkong Bank in 1865, where he would work as a general assistant for forty years. He kept a diary, mentioned in Frank King’s book on the Hongkong & Shanghai Banking Corporation, where he recorded snapshots of his experience at the bank. He died in 1906 at 13 Caine Road, his long service recognized by the bank’s directors with the presentation of a gratuity of $7,500 to his two children and his widow, Umbellina Gonsalves. Alexandre Joaqium Grand-pré (b. 1819, Macau; d. 1865, Macau) Born to a Macanese woman and a French aide-de-camp to the Macau Governor, Alexandre Grand-pré moved to Hong Kong and joined the colonial government as a clerk in 1845. He was transferred to the police offices and appointed Assistant Superintendent of Police and General Interpreter in 1855. A year later, Grand-pré served as Acting Superintendent of Police under Charles May’s personal supervision. Before his retirement to Macau, he was Collector of Police and Lightning Rates for the Hong Kong administration until the position’s dissolution. Delfino Noronha (b. 1824, Macau; d. 1900, Hong Kong) Delf ino Noronha moved to Hong Kong in the 1840s at a young age and started a lifelong career in printing. He set up his own printing company, which was selected as the official government printer in 1859. Noronha & Co. expanded into a family-run printing empire that operated in Macau as Noronha e Companhia and Shanghai as Noronha & Sons. Delfino Noronha funded the founding of Club Lusitano and financially assisted the club during its difficult times. He passed away at 7 Zetland Street at the age of seventy-five, leaving behind ten children, fifty-nine grandchildren, and thirty-three great grandchildren. Evelina Marques d’Oliveira (b. 1913, Macau; d. 2005, Littlewick Green) Evelina Marques d’Oliveira was born in Macau in 1913. After the death of her mother when she was three years old, she divided her time between Macau and Fuzhou, where her father was a tea merchant. He died in 1939 and it was probably at this point that Evelina moved to Hong Kong to work. In the early weeks of the Japanese occupation she met Thomas Edgar, an English baker, and the couple were married at St Joseph’s Roman Catholic Church

218 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

in June 1942. She was sent with her husband to Stanley Civilian Internment camp in May 1943 and remained there until the end of the war. The family moved to Britain in 1951 after the birth of Evelina’s first child and she lived there until her death in 2005. Manuel Maria Dias Pegado (b. 1805, Macau; d. 1861, Hong Kong) Born to an elite Macanese family, Manuel Pegado was an aspiring Portugueselanguage newspaper owner and editor who ran a number of newspapers, albeit some short-lived, in Macau. He moved to British Hong Kong in the mid-1840s after the Macau authorities threatened to shut down his business. In 1846, he set up A Voz do Macaísta and encouraged the Macanese to speak out against the oppressive Macau administration. For unknown reasons, the newspaper folded shortly after its establishment. Manuel Pereira (b. 1757, Carvalhais; d. 1826, Macau) Arriving in the Portuguese enclave during the late eighteenth century, Manuel Pereira entered the dominant Macanese oligarchy and emerged as one of the richest businessmen in early nineteenth-century Macau. He was four times head of the Santa Casa de Misericórdia, and served as councilor and ordinary judge of the Leal Senado. For his service to the government, Pereira received the honor of fidalgo cavaleiro (knight nobleman) and the title of Councilor. He died in Macau in 1826, leaving behind his third wife and six children. Edward Pereira (b. 1817, Macau; d. 1872, London) Edward Pereira, born Eduardo, was Manuel Pereira’s grandson from his first marriage. Pereira traded opium for Captain Charles Elliot and later became a partner of British firm Dent & Co. in British Hong Kong. He participated in the China Branch of the Royal Asiatic Society and was the only Macanese to have entered the social worlds of middle-class Britons in early colonial Hong Kong. Pereira left for London in the late 1850s and entered the lower ranks of the British nobility by marrying the Hon. Margaret Ann Stonor, the daughter of Thomas Stonor, 3rd Baron Camoys of Stonor Park, Oxfordshire. He died of lung cancer in St. George Hanover Square, London at the age of fifty-five. Lisbello de Jesus Xavier (b. 1862, Macau; d. 1909, Hong Kong) Born in Macau and educated at the Seminary of St. Joseph, Xavier moved to Hong Kong where he worked for Noronha & Co. and Kelly and Walsh, Ltd. In 1888, he started his own printing f irm, the Hongkong Printing

Appendix: Summary of Featured Macanese Individuals

219

Press on Wyndham Street. In addition to serving as the president of the Vasco da Gama Club, Xavier set up the newspaper O Porvir, which he used to propagate Macanese solidarity and condemn class division within the community. Lisbello Xavier served as the first president of Club de Recreio in 1906. He passed away at 6 Barrow Terrace, Kowloon in 1909 at the age of forty-seven.

Index A Comunidade 188-190 alien 75-76, 84-85, 87, 94, 133, 146-147, 150 Anderson, Benedict 34, 164 Anglophile 24, 27, 33-34, 125, 134, 136, 143, 145, 149, 151, 153-154, 156-157, 165, 202, 206 Anglophone 27, 136, 142, 148, 151, 156 anti-colonial 21, 26, 34, 96, 137, 156-157, 174, 180, 189, 191 Assoçiação Portugûesa de Socorros Mutuos 169-170, 182-183, 187-188, 190 Associational clubs in Hong Kong Club Germania 103, 106 Club Vasco da Gama 166, 219 Clube Portuguez 107-108 Hongkong Amateurs 103, 107, 114 Hongkong Club 104, 106, 113-114, 123 Portuguese Amateurs 107, 115, 117 Victoria Recreation Club 103, 106, 124 see also Club Lusitano; Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong Barretto Clotilde ‘Tilly’ Belmira 155-157, 205, 208, 215 João António Gonçalves 54-55, 67, 122-124, 215 Bonham, George 83-85 Braga, José Pedro (J.P.) 34, 56, 145-151, 156-157, 202, 204, 206, 215-216 British empire 10, 17-18, 29, 32, 44, 47, 57, 137, 146, 155, 157, 207, 216 employment (of Britons) 75, 80-82 honors 13, 32, 94, 124, 157, 208, 215-217 naturalization 10, 23, 85, 94-96, 134, 144-145 British Army Aid Group (BAAG) 204-205, 208 Caixa Escolar 183, 188-190 Calcutta 12, 27, 54, 145-146, 205, 216 Caldwell, Daniel Richard 87, 90-91 Camões day 175-176 festival 33, 105, 117-120, 124 poems 118-119, 185, 189 propaganda 118, 175-176, 185 Catholic churches 14-16, 57, 61-63, 65, 135, 167-168, 171, 176, 181, 183-184, 190, 217 mass 14, 65, 167, 179, 184 missionaries 47, 60-63, 66, 210 schools 13-15, 43, 61-64, 151, 155, 175, 183, 189, 208, 215 see also Rosary church

Chinese elites 77-78, 94, 105, 116, 122, 125, 135-136, 145, 148-149 worker’s strike (1922) 171 civil society 20, 30, 34, 134, 156 class differences 10, 12, 17, 27, 33, 92-93, 110-111, 113-115, 125, 135, 177 Club de Recreio 167-170, 181-182, 187, 190, 200, 219 Club Lusitano bylaws 110-113 charity 115-116, 184 horseracing 113-114 theatre 114-115 collective biography 30-31 Colonial Office 84-86, 90, 95, 136 colonialism 10, 16-17, 26, 61, 96-97, 209 cosmopolitanism 17, 27-30, 34, 126, 137, 179, 209, 211 D’Almada e Castro Christopher 203, 206 José Maria 82-83, 124, 151 Leonardo 43-44, 75-76, 79, 82-87, 89, 94, 107, 216 Leonardo Horácio 12, 34, 140, 151-157, 190, 194, 202-203, 205-208, 215-216 D’Oliveira, Evelina Marques 14-15, 208, 217-218 Da Costa, Policarpo 118-121 Darwinism 135, 157 De Almeida, Januário 181-184, 187, 190-191, 215 De Carvalho, Januário António 94-96 diaspora 14, 18-23, 47, 61, 174-175, 191, 194, 208 Duke of Newcastle 84-85 Edgar, Brian 14-16, 208-209 Eitel, Ernst 78, 94-95, 103 Escola de Portugues 170, 175, 182 Eurasian discussion of 13, 15, 81-82, 193, 201 elites 134, 145, 148, 205 employment 31, 76, 193 ethnicity 11-13, 15-16, 22, 31, 76, 93, 154, 201, 208-210 Fellowship of Reconciliation (FoR) 148 First World War 140, 148, 181 foreign companies in Hong Kong Dent & Co. 47, 56-57, 65, 93, 218 Jardine, Matheson & Co. 47, 54-56, 123-124, 139, 215-216 Freemasonry 29, 137

222 

The Macanese Diaspor a in British Hong Kong

glass ceiling 76, 86 Goa 22, 48, 50, 54, 82, 141, 174, 191, 201, 215-216 Gonsalves, Constancio Joaquim 79, 91-93, 217 Gosano, Eddie 193, 204-205, 207-208 Government Central School 64 Grand-pré, Alexandre 79, 82, 87-89, 217 Gützlaff, Karl 78 Happy Valley racecourse 104 Hennessy, John Pope 78, 93-95, 119-121, 144, 146 Historic Macao 33, 138-143, 177-178, 217 Hong Kong Branch of the Society of St. Vincent de Paul 107 Hong Kong government Executive Council 75-76, 82, 84-85, 170, 208, 216 Legislative Council 75-76, 82, 85-86, 94-96, 136, 150, 153-154, 170, 180, 184, 208, 216 Police offices 83, 87-90, 217 population census 60, 88, 163, 199 Sanitary Board 145, 149, 216 Urban Council 145, 207-208 Hong Kong Island 123, 164-165, 167-168, 170-171, 204 Hongkong Bank 79, 91-93, 138, 193, 216-217 Hongkong man 133, 151, 154 Hongkong Volunteer Corps 56-57, 119, 178-179, 200, 203 hybridity 24, 210 imagined communities 10, 25, 34-35, 164-165, 180, 192 imperial 10, 12, 18, 20-21, 27, 29-30, 44, 47, 52, 57, 66-67, 91, 126, 193 imperialism 96, 104, 209-210 interwar 10, 22, 34, 136, 164, 177, 179, 185, 192 Japan 20, 28, 34, 45, 61, 119, 140, 184, 191, 199, 215; see also Kobe Japanese ethnicity 22, 24 Jesuits 62 Kobe 10, 22, 164, 173, 186 Kowloon 122-123, 143, 149-152, 164-165, 167-171, 180-183, 185, 190, 193, 204, 219 Kowloon Residents’ Association (KRA) 138, 149-151, 153, 216 Lar dos Portugueses no Oriente 174-177, 181 League of Fellowship and Service 138, 148-149 Liga Portuguesa de Hongkong hymn 185-186 Kobe branch 188 nationalistic propaganda 187-189 origins 180-183 philanthropy 183-185, 188; see also Caixa Escolar promotion of Portuguese language 183-185

Shanghai branch 188 sports 85 Lisbon 23, 32, 46, 62, 82, 117, 120-121, 138-140, 142, 174, 187, 216 Low, Harriett 49-50 Luso-Asian 14, 20, 22-23, 26, 45, 81, 207 Luso-descendants 11-12, 14, 20, 22-23, 115 Lusophone 135, 142 Macanese Anglicization 12, 20, 22-23, 30, 34, 125, 134, 138, 157, 164-166, 171, 177, 180, 183, 189, 192-193, 202-203 cuisine 20, 24 diaspora 19-20, 22, 26, 191, 194 dressing 24 education in Hong Kong 63-64, 119, 144, 151, 155, 169-170, 183, 189-190 Encontro 20 ethnicity 22-24 identity 25, 30 Patuá 23-24, 67, 111, 180 population 60, 65, 163, 169 publics 135-136, 139-143, 145-151, 153-156 racialized discussion of 75-76, 81-82, 201 women 31-32, 49-50, 52 see also Clotilde ‘Tilly’ Belmira Macanese newspapers A Pátria 176-177 A Voz do Macaísta 59 Impulso ás Letras 59 O Procurador dos Macaístas 58 O Solitario na China 58-59 Verdade e Liberdade 59-60 Macau Canton trade 45-46 disasters 86, 115, 184 education 62, 64 Leal Senado 19, 46, 48-50, 52, 58-59, 139, 176, 218 middle-class oligarchy 11, 13, 19, 46-49, 52 Malacca 11, 22-23 Manila 20, 55, 104, 135, 181, 188, 200 Marques, Lourenço Pereira 118, 135, 139, 146, 157 Mercer, William Thomas 84-86, 89-90 middle class 17, 20-22, 25-26, 29, 31, 33, 46-47, 52-56, 67, 93, 104-106, 109-111, 114, 116, 121-126, 134-137, 144-145, 157, 163, 166, 171, 183, 185, 203, 207-208, 218 migration 12-14, 17, 53, 61, 76, 202 mixed race 9-11, 15, 17, 26, 194, 210 Montalto de Jesus, C.A. 33, 76, 138-143, 147, 151, 157, 177-178, 216 nationalism 10, 21-22, 29, 157, 164-165, 172, 174, 177, 179-180, 185, 188-189, 191-192, 209, 211 Ng Choy (Wu Tingfang) 94, 119, 136 Noronha, Delfino 122-123, 146-147, 215-217

Index

Opium Wars first 43-44, 47, 77-78 second 90 Pegado, Manuel Maria Dias 58-59, 218 Pereira Cecil 13-14, 67 Edward 56-57, 65, 67, 80, 218 Manuel 13-14, 49-52, 56, 67, 194, 218 port-cities 17, 22, 27, 34, 44, 79, 122, 138, 148, 156-157, 189 Portuguese diasporic nationalism 34, 174, 176, 187-189, 191-193 empire 10-11, 18-19, 22-23, 44-46, 48-49, 58, 105, 118, 140, 157, 174, 179, 187, 189, 193 First Republic 140, 165, 169, 174, 176, 181 flag 105, 119, 165, 169, 174-175, 180, 204 identity 11-12, 33, 57, 67, 105, 118, 153, 164-166, 171, 178-180, 185-187, 191-193, 206 pátria 22, 30, 33, 59, 119, 121, 172-173, 175, 180 Republican support 33, 117-119, 121 Portuguese honors Cavaleiro da Ordem Militar da Torre e Espada, do Valor, Lealdade e Mérito 157 Comendador da Ordem de Cristo 157, 216 fidalgo cavaleiro 50, 218 fidalgo cavaleiro da Casa Imperial do Brasil 52 Portuguese Reservation Area 170-171 Portuguese Residents’ Association 203-204 print culture 10, 21, 28, 33, 60, 134, 164-165, 186 public sphere 21, 29, 110, 112, 134-136, 142, 148, 151, 156

223 race 9, 21, 25-27, 35, 67, 79, 93, 103, 136, 144, 148, 173-174, 189, 201, 207, 209, 211 racial anxieties 9-10, 12, 35, 75-78, 80-82, 8487, 91, 135-136, 149, 153-155, 193, 200-201, 211 Rizal, José 146-147 Rodrigues, Rodrigo José 174-176, 181, 188 Rosary church 167-168, 171, 181, 183-184 Royal Asiatic Society (RAS) Hong Kong branch 56, 149, 218 Shanghai branch 139, 216 Salazar, António de Oliveira 22, 30, 34, 164, 180, 187-189, 191-192 Santa Casa de Misericórdia 48-49, 52, 58, 115, 218 Second World War 14, 19-20, 154-156, 199-207, 216, 218 evacuation 154-155, 199-204 income taxation 153-154, 199-200 Shanghai 10, 20, 22, 106, 115-116, 122, 138-141, 143, 148, 164-165, 172-175, 178, 180-181, 188-190, 216-217 Sociedade Geografia de Lisboa 139, 216 Stonor, Margaret Ann 13, 57, 218 Straits Chinese 28-29, 94, 105, 116-117, 136-137, 147 The Rights of Aliens in Hongkong 133, 146-147, 216 transimperial 10, 12, 14, 17, 20, 23, 32-33, 44, 47, 57, 67, 105, 126, 157 transnational 17, 27, 29-30, 115, 136, 148, 156, 165, 174, 179, 189, 209 University of Hong Kong 145, 150-151, 216 urbanites 21, 29, 31, 135-137, 143, 148, 156, 164 urban space 33, 121, 126, 192, 193 Xavier, Lisbello de Jesus 166-167, 171, 218-219