The building of Lisbon landscape unveils the entanglements between humans and non-humans in shaping urban development. Nature has impacted upon cities, not only in bestowing natural resources on residents, but also in playing a dramatic destructive role in threatening urban order and human lives. Dogs illustrate this duality, being, at the same time, city inhabitants, friends of residents, and invaders, rabies-prone, and a danger to humans.
This chapter seeks to identify and describe the actions of actors who addressed urban problems, and the daily life management of the Lisbon dwellers associated with the interactions between dogs and urban society taking place in the growing city of Lisbon (Portugal) in the second half of the nineteenth century, when the friendly and useful dog became a true enemy for human health. Different visions collided regarding the measures to be taken to control stray dogs which were potentially rabies-prone, and no consensus emerged. Tensions among various agendas helped to outline approaches to public health. Dogs shaped the city space and the practices of city inhabitants over time in a context of political efforts taken to control and exclude them.
Since the early twentieth century, two contiguous and interrelated institutions inscribed colonial landscapes and commodities in the Belém’s neighborhood: the Colonial Agricultural Garden (1912) and the Colonial Agricultural Museum (1929). These scientific institutions served as colonial laboratories in the capital of the empire, places of study and training of colonial agriculture and forestry engineers, and loci of propaganda of the economic potentialities of the Portuguese colonies. The garden and the museum were also the setting for the colonial section of the Portuguese World Exhibition in 1940, where the diversity and wealth of the Portuguese Empire – nature, people, products and achievements – were at display for millions of visitors.
This chapter discusses the role and place of these scientific institutions within Lisbon at different geographic scales. It addresses the conditions of colonial knowledge production and circulation, the social relations of experts, workers, students and visitors that permeated the garden and the museum, and the interactions with the city’s dynamics and representations as an imperial metropolis. It argues that its location updated and reinforced Belém’s imperial “memory complex” adding a new scientific dimension to it: the agriculture sciences as a promise of future – through the rational development of the colonial economies – next to vestiges of the past maritime discoveries.
The construction of the coastal road from Lisbon to Cascais, promoted by the public works program of the Portuguese nationalistic Centennial Commemorations (1940), was one of the “old aspirations of the capital of the Empire”: it structured urban sprawl in the area to the west of Lisbon, as part of urban planning of Lisbon and its neighbouring regions; it materialized an agenda for the promotion of tourism, the “great facade of nationality,” and finally, it contributed to the propaganda of the work of the Estado Novo (New State) dictatorship and its makers. This chapter follows how the expertise of foreign urban planners inspired by the garden-city model and of Portuguese road engineers influenced by the recent European motorways (built in Fascist Italy and Nazi Germany) were brought together and interchanged to plan the “new Lisbon” designed along the axis of the river mouth of Tagus and to foster new (auto)mobilities. The implantation of this road in the riverside area, starting in Belém, one of the most emblematic spaces of the nationality celebrations and of the empire reinforced the imperial mystique of the dictatorship, by materializing the “work of historical continuity of the Estado Novo” that the Centennial Commemorations intended to celebrate.
The customs laboratory of Lisbon was created by the Ministry of Finances in 1887, and placed in the port area. It was a scientific space created in the borders between chemistry and economy. Its main official duty was testing and analysing imports and exports to prevent fraud, fight against adulteration, and improve tax revenue collection. In mid-nineteenth century, the port of Lisbon was seen as the gateway of trade for Europe. In this context, the customs laboratory was created to protect the national economy, and more specifically the commerce of wine. Over time, the role and activities of the customs laboratory grew, establishing deep connections with other Portuguese scientific networks, as well as with the industrial and commercial environment of Lisbon. This was possible thanks to the prestige and scientific authority of its first directors, linked to both the government and the industrial sphere, and its physical placement in the port of Lisbon. The laboratory became a very useful tool for customs officers, exporters, and traders of the area, creating a scientific hub in Lisbon focused on the control and regulation of merchandise and commerce.
This chapter deals with the place of amusement parks in Lisbon’s geographies of leisure during the first decade of the Estado Novo (1933–1943). At a time in which the regime was developing its own model of fascist modernity, what form did the international, urban and mechanical fun of amusement parks take under Salazarism? By analyzing the different regimes of pleasure of the three major spaces of technological fun of the period (the Luna Parque at the Eduardo VII Park, 1933–35; the amusement park of the 1940 Exhibition of the Portuguese World in Belém; the Feira Popular created in 1943 in Palhavã) we explore the relations between global mass culture and the cultural program of the Estado Novo.
In this chapter, the various dimensions – architectural, medical, techno-scientific, socio-economic and political – of the new Lisbon lazaretto, from its creation in 1860 until roughly 1908, in the last years of the monarchical regime, are discussed. They are grounded on an analysis of its architectural features, and standard historical sources, including health and sanitary regulations, political debates, medical publications, the memoir of a lazaretto’s employee, and the memoir of a quarantined well-known artist, journalist and cartoonist.
Together, they enable to recover the trapped public and private voices at the intersection of changing and conflicting practices, on the other side of the river. Trapped between changing medical and prevention practices and commercial requirements; between political power and private interests; and between public responsibility and individual welfare. On a different scale, they show how the emergence and demise of the Lisbon lazaretto cannot be disentangled from the remodelling of the port of Lisbon to such an extent that despite located outside the city, the lazaretto was always an integral part of the urban question at the end of the nineteenth century. Finally, they illustrate the changing role of Lisbon as a port city, at the juncture of Europe and other continents, central to the maritime protection of the country, and its smooth transition to a polycentric structure, better adapted to the increasingly dynamic and global world at the turn to the twentieth century.
From the late 1860s to the early 1870s, a time of political instability in Portugal, a new generation of young intellectuals coalesced in an informal group that argued for the opening of Portuguese society to the radical political, social and artistic ideas of their century. This group, later known as “the Cenacle”, developed a peculiar relationship with Lisbon, frequenting public spaces in the city with few urban dwellers, or its scarcely inhabited periphery, in order to safely dissect any idea or theoretical system away from the public bourgeois gaze. This utilization of secluded public spaces for private discussions was essential for the maturation of the Cenacle’s socialist views. In 1871, inspired by revolutionary winds blowing from the Paris Commune, they finally decided to give Lisbon’s urban space a public use by directly confronting their contemporaries with an ensemble of controversial ideas. Armed with a clear set of arguments tested in countless discussions, these young intellectuals attracted the attention of the educated public and had a sharp impact in Lisbon’s society. News of their meetings reached the Portuguese government, which ultimately prohibited them, thus blocking their appropriation of Lisbon’s urban space, a ban that was met with a vociferous opposition. After this failed attempt to publicize what had remained up until then private, the Cenacle returned to seclusion and some of its members even embarked in clandestine activities. Lisbon ultimately proved too small for the high ambitions of Cenacle, whose founding figures followed different paths in 1872.