by Brigitta Kuster
MUEDA, MEMORIA E MASSACRE (Ruy Guerra, Mozambique 1979) begins with a prologue. It is the prologue to a story that begins with the expulsion of colonial history and the prologue to the story of the massacre of Mueda in 1960, which is performed each year in the village as a historical reenactment and was in this case accompanied by the film shoot.
The opening of this film refers to an origin, to a zero point which marks the time after which the time of translations begins to count, subsequently fanning out in varied fashion and drawing on many different cinematic means in the process, somewhere between history, stories, memory, specters and presence, singularity and return, reinstatement, all of which interested and unsettled me in lasting fashion. As if a foundation story of this kind were a paradox in the process of losing its paradoxical nature. Or as if the hope for appropriation and power over history set in scene so powerfully in the film were seemingly axiomatized by the unique opening credits: an index that finds itself in strange proximity to the movements of the indigenous when a form of original demand for ethnicity, territory and citizenships is derived within the post-colonial reality.
I Was There and Saw Everything – Making Notes on Prologues
A hand-written intertitle, dated “16 de junho”. A voice reads out a text. I copy down the German subtitles: “Several men demanded / freedom and better wages from the authorities. // The populace supports / these demands. // Because of this, the authorities sent / the police into the villages // to call everyone to a meeting / in Mueda. Several thousand came. // The administrator asked the governor / of Cabo Delgado to come with a company of soldiers. // The soldiers were hidden. / We couldn’t see them. // On the appointed day, following a speech / about the peanut trade, // the governor asked the crowd / if anyone wanted to say anything. // There were so many people / that the governor had them / stand at the side. // Without another word / he ordered the police // to tie their hands together. // Then they were beaten. // I was there and saw everything. // When the people saw this, / they began to demonstrate // against the colonialists. // In the meantime, the colonialists loaded / the prisoners on to trucks. // The crowd protested and tried / to prevent the police from doing so. // Then the governor called upon the soldiers / and ordered them to open fire. // On that day, June 16th, 1960, / around 600 people were killed. // (A survivor’s report)” – black screen.