Goan and Mangalorean Identities- a Shared Heritage: Article
- Alan Machado
- May 17, 2024
- 19 min read
Updated: Mar 23
Talk delivered at Xavier Centre of Historical Research, Povorim, Goa, 2014
A most startling fact emerges from population estimates of Goa’s Christian population between the late 17th to 18th centuries: for a full century it remained static.
Late 17th century | 1722 | 1779 | |
Tiswadi | 30,000 | 36,336 | 37,240 |
Chorao/ Divar | 13052 | ||
Jua/ Anjediva | 2,713 | ||
Salcete | 80,000 | 71,018 | 76,991 |
Bardes | 70,000 | 52,088 | 71,593 |
Goa Velha | 6350 | ||
Margao | 6,254 | ||
Total | 180,000 | 181,565 | 185,824 |
de Souza 2009: 29/30; Borges 1994: 172; Costa 1997: 12
At the same time, Kanara’s Christian population of Goan origin saw a dramatic increase. Significant numbers had emigrated from Goa to Kanara during this period. Let us start a little earlier to trace this growth before we link it to Goa’s statistics. Around 1600 probably about 1,000 Christians, mainly soldiers and Portuguese casados, lived in and around the forts of Mangalore (1568), Honavar (1569) and Kundapur (Basrur) (1570). Mangalore was garrisoned by two hundred men; adjacent to it was a settlement of thirty five casados or married settlers (Shastry 2000: 83). Honavar was garrisoned by two hundred men (Shastry 2000: 86). The fort at Kundapur (Basrur) was built in 1570 and was most likely manned by a garrison of similar strength (Shastry 2000: 90). The three forts were critical to secure Goa’s trade in pepper, rice and other commodities and for the security they offered against the ‘Malabaris’ after Vijayanagar’s defeat in 1565.
The first major influx of Goa’s ‘canarins’ was caused by the decade-long (1570-79) period of wars and resulting famine and epidemics. In 1574 settlements sprung up at Barkur, Basrur, Kundapur and Kallianpur (D'Souza 1983: 20). In 1577 two Jesuits visited the three fort towns. This suggests that the first emigrants came mainly from Salcete which was under the jurisdiction of the Jesuits. Staying for two months, the priests confessed three hundred persons in Mangalore “since there was no vicar and no priest there to hear their confessions.” The annual letter of the following year says that two priests visited the three towns again since there were no resident priests there for four years (Thekkedath 1988: 283). As Catholics were required to confess at least once a year, we can conclude that the adult population of Mangalore was about three hundred.
Two Portuguese observers, Antonio Bocarro and Paulo da Trinidade, confirm that there was a very small a Christian community in Kanara around 1635 (Shastry 1981: 222; Thekkedath 1988: 284). Between 1652 and 1654, Shivappa Nayaka, ruler of the Ikerri kingdom, captured Goa’s four forts in Kanara. During this period Goa sent over seventy ships with reinforcements (Shastry 2000: 184, 186, 188, 199). When the forts fell, these men had little chance of returning. Many joined Shivappa’s standing army numbering over 50,000. In 1658 the propaganda de fide’s emissary, Pre Sebastiani, reported that a Jesuit priest from Salcete, Pre Spinola, based at Honavar, looked after 6,000 Christians living in Kanara (Silva 1958: 58; Ferroli 1955: 41).
Then developments both in Goa and Kanara precipitated a large migration of Goa’s Christians to Kanara over the following century as the statistics quoted earlier confirm. In 1664 Shivaji invaded Bardez which continued to be troubled with periodic Maratha invasions until the latter part of the 18th century when Goa acquired her novo conquistas. In the 1671, the Ikerri Nayaka, Somshekara, was assassinated and the kingdom passed through a period of civil war until Rani Chennamma, Somshekara’s widow, finally regained control. Apart from civil war, the kingdom successfully deflected threats from Bijapur, Aurangzeb’s Moghul empire and from Kolattiri in the south.
The economies of both Goa and Ikerri suffered drastically. In Ikerri, foreign merchants had been driven away and trade came to a standstill. In Goa, which depended on rice imports from Kanara for survival, food shortages became so acute that famine and epidemics were distinct possibilities (de Souza 1979: 203-205 Appendix A-11; Sen 1930: 195). Both needed each other, Goa for Ikerri’s rice, and Ikerri for Goa’s gun powder and military expertise. For Goans, especially from Maratha-ravaged Bardez, Kanara offered survival. For Ikerri, these skilled agriculturalists offered labour and skills to increase agricultural output and land revenues. Goa used Ikerri’s weakness to regain a presence in Kanara. A series of Goa-Ikerri treaties reveal the ups and downs of this relationship. The 1631 and 1633 treaties speak only of commercial matters while that of 1671, when Somshekara asked for Goa’s military help to counter Bijapur, concedes the establishment of factories in Mangalore. The 1678, 1707 and 1714, however, have a number of clauses for the promotion of Christianity and the protection of Christians in Kanara (Shastry 2000: 156-158, 164-165, 214-216, 218-221, 226, 229-231)
The 1678 treaty then is a crucial one that reveals the presence of a significant Goan Christian population in Kanara. That occurred six years before Sambaji invaded Goa and brought it within a whisker of extinction. In 1684 his armies had overrun Salcete and his army’s campfires could be seen from Old Goa. The viceroy had Francis Xavier’s coffin opened and placed his baton of office in the saint’s withered hands saying that only he could save Goa now. And he did; that night a Mogul army appeared behind Sambaji’s lines and he turned from Goa to face his greater enemy.
Sambaji’s invasion did accelerate Goan emigration, but it had already gained momentum, the main cause being Goa’s drastic economic decline beginning from 1600 when the first Dutch warships appeared in Indian coastal waters. The bulk of Goa’s government revenue until then came from three sources: customs duty from overseas trade, cartazes and land taxes (Winius 1985: 94). The Dutch navy destroyed the first two and the burden fell on the ganvkaris to make up the deficit. The effect on Goa’s wealthy was devastating. Tavernier wrote that many of them had been reduced to poverty in the seven years between 1641 and 1648 (Tavernier 1676: 187). How much greater would have been the effect on the canarins?
There are ample records of food shortages brought about by the Dutch blockade. The great convoys carrying rice from Kanara became small and furtive; sometimes they did not arrive. Rice was strictly controlled by law, but in practise much was hoarded and went into the black market. Requisitions of harvests from the ganvkaris brought the prospect of starvation to many doors. This was before the Maratha troubles brought a whole new load of taxes and other burdens on the villages. Ironically the greatest burden fell on the very section of the population the Portuguese had forced into their cultural, religious and political orbit as a means of stabilizing the state and bolstering her defences: the Christians or canarins.
Goa’s laws favouring Christians had resulted in most ganvkari lands falling into the hands of Christian converts. Those who refused to convert went into business and other skilled trades like gold smithy which held a critical place in Goa’s economy. The non-Christian business class dominated the black economy which absorbed much of the ill-gotten wealth of corrupt government servants and paid high interests for this inexhaustible source of funds. Goldsmiths decorated the lavish altars and religious icons of a religion that enslaved the souls of Christian converts and remained a valued associate of the Church. There was no escape for converts; once a Christian, you remained a Christian always with no option but to give up every vestige of pre-Christian practises that held a danger of relapsing. The Inquisition was brought in to ensure that.
The coils of despair tightened around Goa’s Christians. Even the viceroy was forced to acknowledge this. In 1667, he wrote to the king: “My Lord…the Gentios (Hindus) do not have properties and the canarins (neo-converts) get from the lands only as much as they need for their maintenance. No one can extract honey or oil out of stones. These miracles only God can work…may Your Majesty have mercy on them” (Pereira 1981: 79-80).
Neither the king nor God showered mercy on the Christians of Goa; instead that year saw the beginnings of a new terror that was to press on them for another century: the Marathas. Now, new taxes and imposts were added to the ballooning burden carried by Goa’s canarin Christians. They were forced to contribute to Goa’s defence expenditure and maintain soldiers posted to their villages. Worse, repeated attempts were made to recruit youngsters who were desperately needed on the land. Through this great mist of despair, Kanara offered a distant dream and an ever growing hope for survival.
In 1681, Pre Jose Vaz, the saintly Goan canarin padre sent to Kanara to resolve the padroado-propaganda de fide rivalry, reported to the Archbishop that Kanara’s Christians were centred around Mangalore (Bantwal, Arkula or Ferangipet, and Mulki), Kundapur or Barcelore/ Basrur (Bhatkal, Shirva, Kallianpur, and Gangoli), and Honavar (Kumta and Chandavar) (D'Souza 1983: 22; Ferroli 1951: 192). Shivappa’s offensive had pushed Goa and the padres of the padroado out of Kanara. This vacuum had drawn in Bishop Castro’s propaganda de fide who struggled to keep Christianity alive in Kanara but also fought a fierce campaign to keep the padroado out. Bishop Castro had his headquarters in Mangalore where he had built the first Milagres church. In contrast Pre Vaz found the first church built in Kanara, that of Rosario within the old fort of Sao Sebastio in a dilapidated condition and badly in need of repair; it had only a thatched roof.
By the end of that century though, Mangalore’s governor was threatening to destroy the number of churches that had sprung up all over Kanara (Shastry 2000: 287). In 1697 when Rani Chennamma died, twenty one churches had been built in four varas: Honavar (three), Kundapur (five), Mulki (four) and Mangalore (nine) (Silva 1958: 107; D’Souza 1951, from historical notes kept at Bishop’s House, Mangalore archives). Rani Chennamma’s reign (1671-97) therefore saw great influx of immigrants with Sambaji’s invasion of 1684 adding to the already great pressures on Goa’s Christians. Emigrations continued.
In the year 1722 when Goa’s Christian population was estimated at 181,565, an official statistic of the archdiocese of Goa recorded Kanara’s at 24,600 (Thekkedath 1988: 285; Anthappa 2003: 73). Strangely another statistic for 1779 gives an almost identical number listing out the same fourteen parishes listed earlier (Sequeira 1986: 32). Apart from the possibility of errors, there are reasons for this. Punganuri, an official in Haidar’s revenue service in Sriragapatna writes that between 1763 and 1768, Haidar Ali made significant recruitments to his army from Kanara (Punganuri 1849: 18). Launay, the historian of the French MEP, writes that 9,000 Christians were taken to Haidar’s capital to serve in his armouries, stables and garrisions ( Launay 1898: LIV). Francis Buchanan, who surveyed Kanara in 1801, states that in 1784 there were twenty seven churches, some of which do not appear in the 1779 statistic (Buchanan 1807: 24). Besides Goan statistics leave out the non-padroado parishes like Sunkeri. A more complete 1818 census reveals the distribution of the 21,827 Christians in Kanara. Mangalore’s Rosario (2,242) and Milagres (1,468) churches had 3,710 parishioners or 17% of the total, while nearby Ullal had 2,031 or 9%, probably a result of the large number of Christians dispossessed of their properties in villages and towns who had come to Mangalore, the centre of the new power in Kanara. 59% belonged to Mangalore jurisdiction (Rosario, Milagres, Omzur, Bantwal, Ullal, Bidrem/Hospet, Pezar, Mogarnad, Agrar), 18% to Mulki (Mulki, Kirem, Shirva, Karkal), 10% to Kundapur (Barcelore/ Basrur, Gangoli, Nagar, Kallianpur, Nilavar), 9% to Honavar (Honavar, Chandor, Gulmona), 3% to Ankola, and 1% to Sunkeri (The Oriental Herald...1824: 14).
Putting all this data together, Kanara probably had a Christian population of Goan extract of around 40,000 in 1784 with a further 10,000 serving in other parts of Tipu’s saltanat-i-khudadad. These numbers are supported by observations made by contemporary witnesses. Pre Miranda, a prominent Goan from Talaulim who lived in Kanara for close to three decades, wrote that Tipu took 40,000 Christians from Kanara captive, as did Englishmen like Scurry (30,000), Bristow (40,000) and Wilks (30,000) (Pissulencar: 305; Scurry 1824: 103; Bristow 1793: 85). Scurry and Bristow were circumcised and forced to serve in the lashkar-i-ahmadi in the same risalas as the Christian youths from Kanara. Wilks was Resident in Mysore after its capture and had access to its archives.
Juxtapositioning this number with Goa’s Christian population of 185,824 in 1779, we see that perhaps 20% of the descendents of Christians of Goan extract lived in Kanara and Mysore in 1784 and were subjected to the devastating episode known as the Captivity: their arrest, confiscation of their property, deportation and conversion and enslavement of their youth by Tipu Sultan. Before I talk about this, let me briefly talk of some of the families affected.
Very few Kanara Christian families can trace their ancestry back to the seventeenth century; among them are the Coelho Prabhus, the Saldanha Shets and the Pinto Prabhus. Palpet (Paul Peter) Coelho (c 1660) was the founder of three major branches of the Coelho families of Mangalore, those of Kadri, Falnir and Kodialbail. His caste name Prabhu tells us he was of Bamonn and probably a ganvkar but not which part of Goa he came from. Antonio Saldanha Shet’s (c 1660) name suggests he belonged to the shet or vanniya caste. He lived in Fulaje, near Bantwal. His son Bonaventure (c 1688) settled in Mangalore, probably around Bolar. Antonio’s grandsons, Manuel (c 1744) and Joao (c 1752) were deported to Srirangapatna from where they escaped to Tellicherry and developed close family ties with the Coelhos. L. Pinto (c 1680-c 1740) was the parish priest of Milagres Church from 1714 to 1740. His nephew A. Pinto (c 1720-c 1780) succeeded him as vicar. John Salvador Pinto (c 1750-1815), his brother or uncle, was among the captives and is said to have been a munshi employed by Tipu. His brother, Domingo or Dumga, is said to have been active in helping captives escape for a price.
The Macedo Prabhus from Aldona, ganvkars of the 12th vangod, were probably converted in the early years of the 17th century and migrated to Omzur near Mangalore towards its end. They were all taken captive. Only Joao survived. The name got changed to Machado at the end of the 19th century. The Aranha Shenoys of Mulki descend from Anthappa Shenoy who emigrated from Candolim around 1740 along with two brothers, Keshava and Vithappa. Anthappa and his son Manu converted after their emigration. The family escaped deportation probably with the help of their non-Christian relations.
The Vas Naiks were part of the fourth vangodd of the ganvkar community of Pandevaddo in Chorao. Jose Vas Naik, his wife Apollonia Braganza and mother Aglais left Chorao sometime between 1683 and 1741 for the village of Falnir in Mangalore. In 1881, George Vas Naik of Mangalore, met members of his family who had not emigrated in Goa, both Christian and non-Christian. From Pandurang Naik, he learnt that there were eight branches in Goa and four in Kanara who had remained non-Christian. Jose Vas’s grandsons were taken to Srirangapatna from where some escaped in 1792 to Virajpet. Post 1799, Antonio settled down at Virajpet, Domingo and Mingel returned to Mangalore, while Joachim went to Tellichery. The family had been split again.
The Mudort-DeSouza (Mudra, Mudot, Mudarta from the word mudar or money changer) family belonged to the eighth vangodd of the communidade of Assagao in Bardez. The details of their dispersion reveals the strong attachment the ganvkars had to both their land and family deities, the kulladev, and the gut-wrenching decisions the elders had to take to preserve their inheritance. It is continuously repeated in the histories of these migrations, the thread runs through most families that split up. As the pressure to convert increased the Mudras split. One branch converted and remained so that their land rights were not lost with the hope that at some time in the future Portuguese policies would permit those who had emigrated to return and claim their rightful inheritance. One branch went to Mandrem in North Goa, not yet under Portuguese rule, another further north to Vengurla in present day Maharashtra and yet another south to Karwar.
The Vengurla branch consisted of six brothers, five of them married. The five married brothers with their families and deities crossed the Chapora River leaving the youngest, Ramakrishna a bachelor, to catch the next boat. He was not so fortunate. Before he could embark Portuguese soldiers appeared and in the ensuing melee Ramakrishna lost his life. This flight of the Mudras and the killing of Ramakrishna are remembered today in the palki utsav honouring the palanquin in which the idols were carried to safety and in the prayer “Hail Ramakrishna…amongst all the Mudras of the sixteenth century you alone are immortal.” Not all the Mudras who remained in Goa converted. While researching for his book, Wilfred D’Souza met one of their descendents, Ragunath Mudra the administrator of the Bhumika-Ravalnath temple at Assagao vaddo of Mandrem in North Goa.
Diego Fernandes from Divar was a government official who emigrated when thirty nine to Kallianpur in 1740. His descendants were fortunate to have escaped deportation under Tipu. Salvador Brito (c 1750) came from Moira in Bardez. His two sons, Ignatius (c 1775) and Pascoal (1781), survived the deportation. Pascoal’s baptism date is known from a fragment of the records from 1781 to 1783 that survives in Rosario. Emmanuel Braga accompanied the new parish priest of Omzur, Salvadore Manuel Gomes of Loutelim, in 1768 as his domestic. The Bragas too are said to have escaped deportation due to their occupation of cultivating pan. The Virajpet registers, however, reveal that one Manuel Braga, merinho or beadle in the church at Omzur, baptized a little girl Esperanca D’Souza in Srirangapatna in 1793.
Another emigrant of 1740 was Manuel Porob of Assegao, Bardez, who also settled in Chitrap, Mulki. Like many other Christians who cultivated pan, his children appear to have escaped Tipu’s deportation.
The majority of Kanara’s Christians, in fact the saltanat-i-khudadad’s Christians, were not so fortunate. In mid-March 1784, immediately after Tipu signed the peace treaty of 11 March with the East India Company’s emissaries at Mangalore, he put into execution a secret operation to arrest Christians throughout his territories, confiscate their properties, deport them to Srirangapatna, circumcise and recruit the younger males in his chela or military slave army and force a number of girls into harems. Simultaneously churches were pulled down. Within the first year, epidemics and other causes had decimated a third of the population, another third was incorporated into the lashkar-i-ahmadi slave risalas, and the older generations were given lands in surrounding villages to cultivate.
This wasn’t the first instance when entire communities were deported to Srirangapatna. During his Malabar offensive in 1766, Haidar transported 15,000 captives to Mysore; a mere two hundred survived (Wilks 1820: 477). During the Carnatic wars of 1767-69 and 1780-84 large numbers were forcibly relocated to the saltanat-i-khudadad (Thompson 1788: various; Pearson 1835: 238). Tamil boys formed the largest component of the asad-i-ilahi chela risalas. In 1779, 20,000 Beders were taken captive, of whom 2,000 boys were converted into chelas (Wilks 1820: 407; Punganuri 1849: 24). Tipu made captives of the Christians in 1784, the Kodavas in 1785-86 and the Nairs in 1788-89. The reasons in each case were different. The Beders, Kodavas and Nairs were subjects who had not accepted the legitimacy of the saltanat-i-khudadad and rebelled. The Tamils were subjects of enemy territory, subjects of Arcot, the East India Company and Tanjore. Their fate was the result of a deliberate policy to devastate the economy of enemy states. Not only were harvests and food stores burned but irrigation channels were destroyed and cattle, sheep and goats accompanied the long lines of uprooted people forced to take the long road to the Mysore country and develop its economy.
While the Tamils were peaceful subjects of enemy states, the Christians of the saltanat-i-khudadad were peaceful, and by all testimony industrious, inhabitants of Tipu’s state. They had not rebelled against the government as had the Beders, Kodavas and Nairs, nor is there any convincing evidence that they supported the English invasion in any material way. In fact many, perhaps not the Bamons and Charodis of Kanara, but Topasses, Tamils and Kannadigas, served in saltanat-i-khudadad’s army. Yet later historians of dubious merit tried to explain, even justify, for various reasons, Tipu’s action against the Christians as punishment for their having supported the English.
Justifying the expulsion of the padres in his letter to the viceroy, Tipu accused them of causing great losses to his government (Pissulencar: 302). A more plausible reason for their expulsion was because they were subjects of European states, Goa and France. Tipu is also said to have extracted a confession from prominent inhabitants of Mangalore that they had helped Mathews, the commander of the English invasion force, in various ways (Silva 1958: 223). It is patently clear that these charges were fabricated and could never have been proved against Kanara’s entire Christian population, more so against an equal number of Tamil and Kannadiga Christian subjects of the saltanat-i-khudadad who were also made captives.
Why then were the Christians made captive, their properties confiscated and their churches destroyed? Why were they deprived of their sources of livelihood and made dependent on the state for a living? In order words, why were they enslaved?
Answers come from a deeper understanding of the political compunctions that faced Tipu as he sought to establish his legitimacy over a state bequeathed to him by Haidar. Immediately on coming to power, he survived a series of potentially fatal threats to his authority from internal and external agencies: the defection of the governor of Bednur (Nagar), the break-up of his French alliance, an attempted coup masterminded by his most powerful ministers to place the Wodeyar back on the throne, an English army that swept through his rich southern province and threatened his capital, a revolt by his most popular general, an English fleet that threatened Mangalore, and the loss of his allies capital, Cannanore. A year after assuming power, his hold over the saltanat-i-khudadad appeared most fragile.
Tipu’s state was composed of the core Kannada and Tamil regions that had been ruled for centuries by the Wodeyar dynasty and a number of newly acquired states from Marathi, Telugu and Malabar regions. In an age when religion and kingship were perceived as ‘brothers’, Tipu depended on a predominantly Muslim court elite to rule these over-whelmingly non-Muslim territories. He therefore employed a blend of well-recognized traditions and measures used by Indo-Muslim states and those used by earlier rulers.
To his Muslim court elite and co-rulers, Tipu had to justify his claim to rule as the ‘best of Muslims’ and therefore sought the sanction of the nominal head of the Muslim world in India, the Mughal emperor, and globally, the Sultan of Istanbul. In order to prove to them that he could defend and promote Islam in his state, he depicted his struggle against the English as a crusade against European (ferangi) Christian (nasrani) states with himself as a primary champion of Islam.
Unfortunately for his Christian subjects, they too fell within Tipu’s conception of the ferangi mazhab, the European school of religious law. In an era when religious and political authority were inextricable partners of the ruling elite, Christianity could not exist within his saltanat-i-khudadad without compromising his struggle against the European powers. It is only in that light that the Captivity can be satisfactorily explained. It is only in that light that Tipu’s draconian law implemented as clause 70 of his Revenue Regulations can be explained: “You shall seize all Padres, and Cullistauns (cristãos, Christians) that are to be found within your district, and send them under a guard to the Huzzoor—and you shall enquire and ascertain what Zindigie, grain, cattle, land, and plantations, &c. they possess, and shall sequester the whole there of for Government; and you shall deliver over the lands and plantations to other Reyuts, whom you shall encourage to cultivate them, as, in case they are not cultivated, you will be required to make good what they should have produced—In future, if any person of the cast of Cullistaun shall take up his abode in your district, you shall, according to the above directions, seize him, with his family and children, and send him and them to the Huzzoor” (Greville 1795: clause 70).
Tipu’s Kanara captives, though living in Kanara, were recognized by treaty as being under the authority, in matters of religion and certain matters of justice, of the padres and therefore of Goa. The Christians too identified themselves in many ways more as belonging to the malgado gaon than to Kanara. Many were first generation immigrants and almost all the rest descended from immigrants who had come within the past century. In fact in the Virajpet register we find some who gave their place of origin as Goa like Alex Salvador Calderio and Augustino Vincente Roiz (Rodrigues) who came from Margao. The Mangalorean identity was yet to appear.
It came much later, after the Italian Jesuits took over the Mangalore diocese in 1878. By then the community had recovered with the help of the new English administration, the founding of schools by the Carmelites and later Jesuits, and by adopting industrial technology (tiles, textiles, printing) introduced by the Basel Mission. It had been a very painful process. Of the Macedo Prabhus, for instance, only one survivor, Joao, returned, only to find the two ancestral house and agricultural lands had been lost to new owners. Of his six sons, four settled in Mangalore and one in a neighbouring village: there was not enough in the ancestral home, Mermajal, to sustain the growing family. It was Joao’s great-grandson Piedade who achieved a measure of prosperity perhaps a century after Joao’s death by taking up weaving as a profession. Their story is repeated over and over again.
The arrival of the Jesuits and the steady recovery of the community brought a fresh impetus towards establishing the Mangalorean identity. Kanara came under English authority, Goa remained under Portuguese, and the Mangalore diocese under Italian Jesuits. The padroado was extinct in Mangalore. This Mangalorean identity expressed itself in ways different from the Goan: in houses that incorporated local, and English architecture in addition to the Goan; in the use of the English language and literature to express itself; in higher education that took the brightest of the younger generation to other parts of the British empire in its service; into industry and new professions. The gap widened.
The 2001 census estimated Goa had a Christian population of 360,000. In contrast, a similar number lives in South Kanara alone. In addition, a large number of Christians belonging to Goa and Kanara live in other parts of India and the world. The Captivity decimated over half the 1784 population. If it had not occurred, this number would have been far, far greater. Perhaps more importantly, the Goan-Mangalorean identity gap may have been much smaller and we would have today a greater community sharing a great common heritage.
***
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Raai, N. Family history notes.
Saldanha, A. Saldanha Shet family history notes.
Vas, G. Genealogical Tree of the Naik-Vas family of Mangalore. Mangalore. 1881.
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