The age-old paradox of democracy

 

My presentation today at the NEMO conference. Here

Without water, one dies in nine days, yet one can live for five years without human touch. Is the latter a luxury?

Choir of ex-miners at the Mines of Lousal. Coming together to sing was (and is)
important to them. (Photo: Maria Vlachou)

The title is a quote from Justin O´Connor’s book “Culture is not an industry – Reclaiming art and culture for the common good”. Before I get into it, two episodes from my professional life come to mind.

In 2016, Access Culture found out about a working group constituted the year before by the Portuguese government to tackle the refugee crisis. The following sectors where represented in this group: Directorate-General for European Affairs/Ministry of Foreign Affairs, the Foreigners and Borders Service, the Social Security Institute, the Institute for Employment and Vocational Training, the Directorate-General for Health, the Directorate-General for Education and the High Commissioner for Migrations. Culture was not invited to be part. Our association wrote to the Ministry of Culture and we were informed that the group was almost completing its task and that the Ministry would pay more attention in the future. More attention to what…? Noone considered that Culture had anything to do with the arrival of refugees to a small country – not even the Ministry of Culture and perhaps also quite a few cultural professionals.

Thanks, but no thanks.

It is not easy to read Ece Temelkuran’s book “How to lose a country: The seven steps from democracy to dictatorship”. The Turkish journalist’s incisive writing becomes frightening at times, her evidence weighs heavily on one’s heart. I had to pause now and then. All our questions, doubts, concerns, frustrations about what is happening around us, are in this book. What some of us are experiencing for the first time has happened before and the tactics were never different. Not only are Erdogan’s rise, the Brexit vote, Trump’s election put under the microscope, Temelkuran has a clear view of how far back we need to go in order to find the origins for both recent and current events and realise that we did/do nothing, although the way they developed is, by now, so predictable. As predictable as seven steps.

And now for something completely different: the populist museum

Back in November 2022, the Italian Minister of Culture, Gennaro Sangiuliano, talked about the need to better protect works of art from the actions of climate activists and stated: “Considering the enormous heritage to be protected, the intervention will represent a considerable cost for the ministry and for the entire nation. Unfortunately, I can only foresee an increase in the cost of the entrance ticket.”

The statement sounded deeply populist (and ridiculous) to me at the time. Perhaps not more populist (or ridiculous), though, than the statement of The National Gallery on 17 October:

“Following recent incidents within the Gallery it is now necessary to introduce increased security measures to ensure the safety of all who visit, National Gallery staff and the nation’s collection of paintings.

Against culture passes

House with a roof but no foundations was a post I wrote in 2011 regarding the initiative of the Brazilian government to give a sort of “culture stipend” to people with low income. It is a case a still frequently bring up in trainings and debates, as it never convinced me it was addressing the real issues. The questions citizens asked at the time were revealing: Can we buy video games with it? Can we pay cable TV? A lady that was interviewed at the time said she thought is was great, as she had never before “dared” to go to the municipal theatre of Rio de Janeiro (“It is so big, so beautiful”, she said, “I never dared”…). More importantly, though, there were the people who asked the difficult questions: how are we supposed to spend it? There’s no bookshop – cinema – museum – theatre where we live.

Beyond the law

National Museum, Prague

In 2021, I was in Prague, visiting the National Museum. Having taken the elevator to reach the cupola and get to see the beautiful city from above, I saw it had a bench. I remember being invaded by a strong emotion witnessing this small, discreet gesture of hospitality and kindness. The museum did not include the bench because it was obliged by law. It acknowledged that not everyone would be able to stand during the slow journey of getting to the top, so it wanted to make sure that people would feel comfortable and safe; they would feel welcome. When we honestly wish to open the doors to everyone (whatever “everyone” might mean), to share the experience with all those who are interested in being part, we are not conditioned by laws. We are ready to go beyond.

Of silent minorities. Of fear and freedom.

Once again, we´ll cross the Atlantic, just so that we realise how close we actually are and why we should be paying attention.

In July, I wrote an article for the Portuguese newspaper Público (see translation) regarding the what is now an extreme situation of banning books in US school and public libraries. I wrote at the time that the contested books normally relate to LGBTQI+ issues, race and racism, slavery, the genocide of indigenous people, religion. There are also numerous demands to move books about puberty from the juvenile section to the adult section… Similar situations are occurring in Brazil and other countries, being more or less reported in the mainstream media.

A recent report regarding the situation in the US, published by the Knight Foundation, showed some very relevant results: that 78 percent of people trust their public schools to select appropriate materials; it also found that “most Americans feel informed about efforts to ban books in schools, but just 3% of respondents said that they have personally engaged on the issue - with 2% getting involved on the side of maintaining access to books, and 1% seeking to restrict access.” (read more). What does this tell us? That too many people are aware, a few get involved in defending freedom to read in a democratic country, while a vocal, often violent, fringe is allowed to decide what everyone may read and where. Does it sound slightly familiar?