Gayera Authenticity

My two columns from earlier this year published in the Pacific Daily News on the ban of cockfighting in the US territories. I've been slowly working towards an article on this topic, targeting two main aspects. 

First, the debate over whether or not we can consider cockfighting to be part of Chamoru culture or whether it is really Chamoru or not. This is deployed in very interesting ways in this debate, as people seem to feel that if it isn't really Chamoru then it is ok and right to ban it. Whereas others tie to a strong, grounded sense of authenticity in contrast to perceived sort of softness of Americanized life.  Very interesting sort of discursive dancing around authenticity. 

Second, the role that Guam's political status plays in the cockfighting ban. Some people argue that we don't necessarily see Guam's colonial status at play here, since this is just another way that big government in Washington, the elites impose things on the little man. This way of framing the ban allows for injustice, but one which is internal to the US. This one interestingly enough allows the debate to stay within the conservative v. liberal dynamic. Many who take this position are more conservative in Guam, often times they are integrated into the right-wing stateside echo-chamber. So they see this as just another way that Washington is screwing people over. Many who accept this point make the bewildering argument that this is the Democrats fault, even though this law was passed by a Republican-controlled Congress and then signed into law by a Republican president. 

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Last December, the United States federal government rescinded exemptions for the US territories from the Animal Welfare Act. By next December cockfighting will be considered illegal in Guam and other territories. Much of the debate around banning cockfighting in the US surrounds issues of animal cruelty, but when it comes to the territories, we have to place our political status at the center of how to understand this. 

Cockfighting was legal in the US for most of its existence. It was practiced across the US, and even some presidents were rumored to be fans. In the 20^thcentury the practice came under fire for a few reasons. Part of this was the rise of animal rights movements and campaigns to help expose the general public to the often-cruel ways that animals are treated to feed society. But part of this turn against cockfighting can also be seen as racially tinged. 

While white Americans had enjoyed cockfighting since the start of the US, by the 20^thcentury, it was primarily viewed as part of Hispanic culture. This was a time when Latino Americans were increasingly being targeted for political demagoguery and soon the idea of it being a barbaric game that promoted social vices like gambling and drugs, took over public consciousness.  

Regardless of where you personally may fall in terms of the debate over whether cockfighting is a proud cultural tradition or a cruel bloodsport, within the US, there was a series of conversations around it. Eventually every single state took action to ban cockfighting. 

Democracy is not about everyone getting their way, but rather the idea of negotiated compromises. Even if some voices lose a debate, lose an argument, ideally within a democracy, they were at least heard and leaders were engaged. Their leaders will be accountable for their decisions. Also, while a group of constituents may not get what they want, a minimum amount of respect was afforded them nonetheless. 

This issue becomes colonial when it extends out to the territories, because the democracy that America loves to extoll, doesn’t reach the rest of us. To argue that Guam is a part of the democracy of the US, because we have a non-voting delegate or a fake vote for president, is to demean the idea of democracy and also demean ourselves in the process. 

We didn’t participate in the democratic process that elected the president who signed the ban and neither did our non-voting representative get to participate in the basic democratic functions that created the bill. 

As I have discussed in previous columns, this is the type of moment where, if we are serious and clear-eyed, we can see in stark terms, our relationship to the US. The overall Farm Bill that banned cockfighting, was in total more than 200,000 words. Approximately 184 of those words dealt with the cockfighting ban. It takes up less than a third of a single page. It is so minute and so infinitesimal, that in the executive summary for the bill there is no mention of this ban. 

This isn’t colonial because of the smallness of Guam’s interests, but rather because we were neither afforded the chance to determine our own ideas about what is culturally appropriate or to have minimal participation in the national discussion on cockfighting. 

More on cockfighting and its place in Chamoru culture next week. 

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One of the arguments that I often hear against cockfighting in Guam is that it isn’t truly Chamoru, it is a colonial introduction and not part of who they really are. This argument can be over simplistic however, since it is predicated on authentic Chamoru culture being that of ancient times and leaves little room for it to change, adapt or evolve. 

Until recently cockfighting was a very central part of Chamoru culture, albeit primarily for men. After Spanish colonization, when Chamoru life was increasingly dictated by Catholic rituals and celebrations, which could be vibrant and endearing, yet also socially stifling, cockfighting was a colonizer-approved diversion. 

For those that think cockfighting is a colonial imposition, there may be truth to this, especially since the practice was promoted with colonizing intent. The Spanish rose to global power, overseeing millions in Asia, the Pacific and the Americas. Many of those they subjugated moved away from the centers of colonial authority choosing to live in the jungles, the mountains. Cockfighting provided an easy form of entertainment that would bring indigenous men into the towns. The Spanish and Americans also taxed the sport. One historian wrote that in the 19^thcentury, the Spanish may have made more money from cockfighting fees in the Philippines than any other export. 

Cockfighting was such a visible part of Guam life, that visitors from off-island often wrote about it in their accounts. Such is the case of anthropologist Laura Thompson who conducted research on Chamoru life in the 1930s and wrote this passage in her book Guam and its People:

“Besides religious activities, one of the main forms of recreation for men was cockfighting…Guam cocks had long been famous for their size and plumage. On Sundays and holidays men and youths gathered at the cockpit in every village to bet on their favorite birds. Some enthusiasts based their prognostications on the relation of the pattern of scales on a bird’s leg to the season, the state of the moon and the tide. Since the cocks’ spurs were reinforced with sharp knives, the fights were bloody and often fatal. They were followed with breathless interest by the crowd and the winners were cheered.”

While it is fact that cockfighting has been a central part of Chamoru life for centuries, the question of whether it is evidence of loss of culture or adaptation is slightly different. While we don’t have any evidence of rooster or chickens being present on Guam prior to Spanish colonization, we do have some evidence that Chamorus did enjoy their own type of bird-fighting. Here is an excerpt from one of the earliest contacts with Europeans in the 16^thcentury:

“There are no kinds of livestock whatsoever in these islands, not even chickens…except some turtle doves... They keep the said doves and raise them in their houses where they keep them in some cages and train them to fight against one another and they place bets on which one will win.” 

If we accept this account as true, then cockfighting isn’t a colonial imposition, but rather something that was incorporated or adapted. I do not know what the dove fights might have looked like in ancient Guam, but perhaps the new birds and sport brought in by Filipino soldiers would have seemed exciting and led Chamorus to adopt it eventually.