project the Konkani
cause. It was a point-by-point attempted refutation,
and more. A whole lot of more grist to the linguistic
mill that ultimately served to build circulation,
allowing Rajan to boost his bargaining power on this
basis.

If Rajan played a crucial role in stoking the language
controversy, he was also vital in bringing it to an
abrupt and unexpected end. On the day the language bill
was passed in the Goa assembly, an angry Churchill Alemao
stomped into the Herald office. He demanded to know
how the screaming headline read something to the
effect: 'Konkani made official language'. Alemao's
criticism (with some validity, even if ironical in the
backdrop of his own exclusivist approach which sought
compltely illegitimise the Marathi demand, in what was
in is more of a caste-defined battle) was that the
headline was not justified when the dialect and script
used by a small minority had been given official acceptance.

Later realties also elaborately demonstrated that the
Rane-Khalap drafted official language bill was
extremely ambivalent, if not wholly unimplementable.
Nobody knows for certain whether Goa has one or two
official languages, or almost-official languages. Each
official purpose for which it is to be used would have
to be specifically notified, leading to further
bickerings. Besides, almost everyone would like to
leave the act unimplemented, since it would open up a
can of worms and endless more problems if anyone went
ahead implementing it. The official invitation cards,
now printed in four languages -- English, Hindi, and
Konkani and Marathi -- are enough of an indication of
what a joke this has become.

Nonetheless, the Konkani experience did not stop Rajan
from subsequently claiming that the paper under his
steering had "demonstrated dramatically its influence
by succeeding to get more than 75,000 people for the
Konkani language". Of this, he tried to make a case for
better terms -- service conditions, allowances and
possibly commissions on advertisements "generated" for
the paper.

EVEN AS HE ANNOUNCED recently his decision to quit the
Herald and launch his own weekend paper, Rajan is back
to donning his role as a 'protector of the minorities'.
But even as he stokes fears here, a genuine question
could be whether this is anything more than a marketing
strategy. His claims of being committed to secularism
could be dismissed by critics as little more than a
cynical strategy of