Activism and diversity in
multicultural settings in Lisbon
1M. Margarida Marques and Francisco Lima da Costa
Whether as wage labourers, restaurant owners, or music and dance performers, migrants are now part of the natural appearance of cosmopol- itan global cities. The ‘world in one city’ (Collins and Castillo 1998) is a result of globalization both ‘from above’ and ‘from below’ (Guarnizo and Smith 1998; see also Sassen and Roost 1999). But the integration of migrants into cosmopolitan cities is not a simple or uniform process. Research has repeatedly shown how national frameworks stand in the way of immigrant incorporation (Brubaker 1992) and how local policies can play crucial roles in negotiating the status of migrants (Ireland 1994).
Although much has been said and written about economic integration, it is still not clear how immigrants integrate into the cultural dimension of city life, nor how such integration becomes more manifest in the public sphere, notably in the building of an ethnotourist sector. This is the topic we will address here. Our exploration of the Lisbon case may generate knowledge that enables comparative research with other urban contexts.
Although mass immigration in Southern European countries is a more recent phenomenon than in the North, Lisbon has long claimed the status of European gateway city. The centuries of Portuguese overseas expansion serve as evidence for that claim, and so do the recent efforts to ‘imagine’
a worldwide lusophone ‘community’ (in the terms of Anderson 1991).2 This chapter contributes to the debate on immigrant integration by exploring some essential processes in the building of a market of ethnic references. It examines the effects that the emergence of such a market may have in the socioeconomic sphere, and it analyses the cultural and political negotiations involved. Portugal forms an interesting case, because the prevailing ideology of exceptionalism, which assumes a racially blind society, is still a potent influence in Portuguese society, cutting across party-political lines (for further elaboration see Boxer 1963 and Castelo 1999; for a critique see Cabral 2001). The exceptionalism thesis is founded on a claim that Portugal occupies a special in-between position in the world system – marginalized by the powerful actors of the
centre, while itself marginalizing the downtrodden of the periphery (Santos 2001). The theory holds that Portugal’s position has given it a singular approach to Otherness. Notwithstanding this, however, the concomitant idea of inclusive nationhood has given rise to contrasting reactions on the arrival of the Portuguese ‘returnees’ from colonial Africa in the 1970s, on the later arrival of ‘immigrants’, and during the campaign for ‘Europeanness’ that accompanied Portugal’s European Union acces- sion in the mid-1980s.
We are particularly interested here in the role played by ‘ethnoculture’
and ‘ethnopolitical entrepreneurs’ (Brubaker 2002) in negotiating social inclusion, and in identifying the foreseeable outcomes of this process in both economic and political terms. How does immigrant cultural produc- tion come to be seen as respectable and desirable? How does the top-down
‘imagining’ of a ‘singular’ Portuguese community rhyme with the bottom- up cultural expression of migrants? How can immigrants come to be seen as an element of enrichment rather than conflict? Who can gain from such a cognitive shift? And what things can be gained?
In a cognitive-analytical framework (Brubaker 2002, 2004; DiMaggio 1997), we explore the opportunities to move from the negative stereotyp- ing that often accompanies the construction of difference in a migration context to a positive mode of stereotyping in an urban leisure setting.
Focusing on the role of ‘ethnoentrepreneurs’,3 we hope to discover the path from closure and ghettoization4to opening and acceptance.
The national context
The Lisbon World Exposition of 1998 was intended to celebrate the turn- ing pages of history – to combine the proudly inherited eight-centuries-old traditions of the Portuguese capital with the high hopes of a modern Lisbon resolutely embarking on the twenty-first century. A public project involving vast financial resources and political engagement on the part of decision-makers, this top-down initiative thus attempted to use historical heritage as a springboard into modernity (Ferreira 2002; Fortuna and Peixoto 2002).5
In a broader sense, too, the supposedly exceptional blend of people and cultures that has arisen out of the Portuguese overseas expansion forms an important leitmotiv in the rhetoric of both decision-makers and main- stream creators of culture in Portugal. The resulting singularity of character is said to endow the Portuguese with a special propensity to mingle with Otherness. The national song genre fado is often cited as an expression of that cosmopolitan inheritance – as an original cultural product with signif- icant roots in the African and American wanderings of Portuguese seafar- ers (for information on fado, see Mariza 2004; Público 2004a, 2004b).
The origins of Mariza, the new icon of fado propelled to the status of world music star by a Dutch record firm, are traced back to Mouraria, a
historic quarter of Lisbon. But the Mouraria of today is an inner-city district that has been the destination of large immigrant inflows since the 1970s, chiefly ‘returnees’ from Africa, as in the case of Mariza’s family.
Yet even though Mariza is being promoted as a symbol of the genuine, original mix of peoples that is said to underpin Portuguese culture, fado has never turned into a magnet for immigrant audiences.
On closer inspection of the upper-middle-class precinct adjacent to Expo ’98, we see that the cultural expression of diversity is limited to a narrow set of activities. Moreover, any ‘diversity references’ used in creating an image for this upcoming neighbourhood make no room for the immigrants who live in the Lisbon of today. Other illustrations could also be given of how mainstream references to Otherness contribute to a singularity matrix that is turned towards the outside world – rather than inwards, to the presence of migrants. This one-sided, and rather elitist, concept of culture seems to be premised on a narrow idea of the nation. As Almeida (2000) has pointed out, cosmopolitanism appears to be understood as the dissemination of Portuguese references far abroad, but with no corresponding adoption of references from the other direction.
Though it would be an exaggeration to speak of ‘cultural wars’, there is abundant evidence of a growing malaise in parts of society that feel excluded from this one-sided notion of culture. This has been underlined by research done on rap music performed by youth of African parentage (Cidra 2002; Contador 2001; Fradique 2003; de Seabra 2005). Work on post-colonial cultures in France and the UK by Hargreaves (2004) and Hargreaves and MacKinney (1997) has identified different forms of expression used by ethnic minority young people to voice their stance.
Music is a favoured medium to express both dissatisfaction and a claim to belong, though it is restricted to limited segments of society (see also Laplantine and Nouss 2001). In an underground but vibrant snowball movement, hip-hop music is now mobilizing many creative youth of immigrant ancestry, and its popularity is spreading (Basu and Werbner 2001; on Portuguese hip-hop, see H2T 2003).
Official Portuguese statistics, which recognize only official nationality as a distinguishing category, tend to obscure the real size of the popula- tion of immigrant descent. However, research investigating its demo- graphic impact on Portuguese society has shown that it has figured heavily in the population growth of the past decade, the bulk of which has occurred in the Lisbon metropolitan area (Rosa et al. 2004). Although the real significance of the migrant-descent youth has yet to be determined, one thing is sure: in spite of their virtual absence from the formal politi- cal sphere, they have become a critical factor in the politics of recognition (Taylor 1994). And they are determined to redress what a growing segment of the population sees as a lack of respect for what these youth have proudly come to define as their own cultural heritage.
Older migrant representatives are making the same point. Whether by organizational or political leaders or by other members of immigrant economic and cultural elites, increasing discontent is being voiced about the meagre recognition for the autonomous expressions of communities from former colonies, and about their relegation to an inferior status in Portuguese society (Marques et al. 2003). Despite the prevailing rhetoric in political and academic arenas about the exceptional Portuguese ability to relate to other peoples and cultures, the ‘return of the caravels’6 has proved to be anything but a benign cultural issue (Marques et al. 2005).
Yet there are also significant segments of mainstream society that subscribe to or even take part in the new forms of cultural expression, thus helping to promote ‘alternative’ understandings of Portuguese culture.
Some people, mostly ‘returnees’ from former colonies, welcome such developments to avoid relinquishing their ties to their ‘lost Eden’ of colo- nial times. There is also increasing popularity in circles with more cosmo- politan outlooks. Still other adherents take a more militant stance aimed at opposing the normative, top-down monopoly on the cultural expression of nationhood and modernity as claimed by the established cultural elite.
In concert with the growing pursuit of multicultural expression by migrant communities and the wider adherence to the global ‘ideology of ethnic diversity’ (Fischer 1999), the latter activists have had a significant role in augmenting the present ‘ethnoentrepreneurial’ supply, rendering it much more visible in the public sphere. The ethnoentrepreneurs occupy a bundle of occupations, and include artists, media professionals, politicians and welfare workers, both in national and transnational spheres. They play a major mediating role, acting as gatekeepers and bridges to the public sphere, and also as marketeers that try to boost demand itself (Crane 1994).
Studies made in France about jazz music and ‘Black Paris’ (Jules- Rosette 1994; Yeary 2003) have shown how jazz gained roots in post-war France in a counterculture of resistance to the American-oriented main- stream. The idea of closure and resistance was crucial in building a Parisian market of cultural minority references. As closure appears to be a condition for ‘authenticity’ (van den Berghe 1994; Hargreaves 2004), whilst authenticity appears to be an essential element in the outward marketing of ethnic diversity, we will be particularly keen to study any feedback effects between closure and marketization.
A word of caution should be entered about the use of ethnic labelling.
As Brubaker (2002) has argued, the idea of ‘ethnic group’ often reflects a
‘groupist’ turn, rooted in some sort of ‘folk sociology’ – which, we might add, also underpins the basic dyadic relationship of tourism (van den Berghe 1994). At the same time, however, ‘us’ and ‘them’ as essentialized constructions can also be politically powerful notions in the construction of ethnicity (Vermeulen 1999). The political dimension is clear in the way activist ethnoentrepreneurs contribute to this ongoing construction of a market of ‘exotics at home’ (Di Leonardo 1998). They are striving to
overcome the subordinated status of minority cultural production and to assert an alternative mode of equitable ethnic relations.
In this chapter, we examine the making of a market of ethnic diversity using the insights we have gained in two case studies. The first involves the Diversity Festival (Festa da Diversidade), an initiative by an anti-racist organization which takes place in the historic neighbourhood of Mouraria, now associated with immigrants of different origins, in Lisbon city centre.
The second focuses on the Sabura ethnic tourism project, a grassroots initiative in an outlying slum district of Lisbon, mainly inhabited by African migrants and their offspring. We attempt to identify the necessary preconditions for a market of ethnic diversity, and we argue that, in order for such a market to thrive, a fundamental dilemma has to be resolved: a closure inside certain references is needed to safeguard difference and
‘outsidedness’ (vis-à-vis the mainstream), whilst at the same time the relations with mainstream institutions are essential, for without them there can be no communication and no bridges, and hence no marketization (see van den Berghe 1994).
Building a setting of ethnic references
Immigrants – who were initially kept hidden away in workplaces and poor districts of town – are now surfacing in the times and spaces of everyday urban life. The ethnic supply side is becoming particularly noticeable in certain districts, and ‘ethnic tourism’ – still barely acknowledged as an autonomous sphere of commerce – is paving its way into policymaking discourse.7The incipient opportunities in urban contexts can be framed in both economic and urban regeneration terms. Although no systematic study has ever been made of the relationship between immigrants and the leisure industry in Portugal, the media have been reporting and reflecting the growing supply of – as well as demand for – certain ethnic references.
The High Commission for Immigration and Ethnic Minorities (ACIME), a Portuguese central government body, leans towards a similar celebratory tone, and has a link on its website to a web page on the ‘tastes of the world’ (ACIME 2005).
In Lisbon, considerable state-led investments have been made in the past two decades to regenerate significant fringes of urban space. Other areas have been left to dereliction. The few remaining immigrant shanty- towns at the city’s edge are now under siege from urban developers, and are being tenaciously defended by local residents and institutions. We will compare two urban districts that have become associated with immigrants and cultural diversity. The fact that these manifestations have different origins and follow different patterns – partly by virtue of the different roles played by public authorities and civil promoters – will allow us to focus on several issues that are fundamental to an understanding of ethnic market formation.