Miguel Monjardino, President of the Organizing Committee
June 10, 2026
“Heroes of the sea.” That is how our national anthem begins. Let us not forget it, especially today, as we celebrate in the Azores the Day of Portugal, Camões, and the Portuguese Communities spread throughout the world. There are two ways of contemplating the history of our country: looking at the sea from the land, or looking at the land from the sea.
Today we celebrate Luís de Camões, above all because we recognize the greatness, universality, and enduring modernity of his work. Scholar, poet, soldier, and traveler, he crossed the world and observed it with extraordinary attention. He endured storms, hardships, and uncertainty, yet he viewed our history from the sea. At the end of the winter of 1570, seventeen years after departing for the East, the carrack Santa Clara, aboard which Camões was returning to Lisbon, left the island of Saint Helena and sailed north across the Atlantic. Carried by the northeast wind, it passed between Flores and Corvo, then toward Graciosa and the tip of Serreta here on Terceira. Exhausted after years abroad, Camões must have looked with joy upon the southern coast of this green island, where clear streams ran abundantly toward the sea. It was not the Promised Land, but it must have seemed close. The Santa Clara anchored in the Bay of Angra, and Camões stepped ashore at the Customs Wharf, climbed the short incline, and entered Rua Direita in this city. A few weeks later, in June of 1570, he finally arrived at Ribeira das Naus in Lisbon. He returned as he had departed: poor, alone, and ill. Fate had not loosened its grip upon him. His life would not be long. Yet he carried with him a treasure far more valuable than all the spices that had crossed the oceans and entered the Tagus: the manuscript of Os Lusíadas.
Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, this year the celebrations of the Day of Portugal, Camões, and the Portuguese Communities once again take place in Angra do Heroísmo. Angra is an innovative city. As early as the fifteenth century it was conceived as a transatlantic city. Here, beside the sea, and in support of the great geostrategic enterprise of the Discoveries, the first hospital in the Azores was established in 1492. For centuries, the return routes from Asia, Africa, and the Americas converged here on their way to Portugal and the rest of Europe. Angra became a meeting point of continents and cultures. It is therefore no surprise that its historic center became the first in Portugal to be designated a UNESCO World Heritage Site. Beneath the waters of its bay lie the archaeological remains of shipwrecks that bear witness to five centuries of navigation in the Atlantic. This is the first and largest underwater archaeological park in the nation. We must remember this today because a country that neglects the preservation and appreciation of its cultural heritage will always build its future poorly. Always.
The Azores and Madeira celebrate fifty years of autonomy this year. This was an aspiration long held by our islands, which for generations were ignored or neglected by a country deeply centralized in Lisbon and accustomed to looking at the sea from the land. The Revolution of April 1974 finally made autonomy possible, and despite all the difficulties that have accompanied the process, strong and successful autonomies have been built. Much has been achieved in both archipelagos since 1976. Governing islands with different populations and geographic realities will always be demanding, politically and administratively. Yet in islands so deeply devoted to the brotherhood of the Holy Spirit, none can be forgotten. We need more voices such as that of Sidónio Bettencourt, who for decades united an archipelago stretching nearly six hundred kilometers through his radio program Inter-Ilhas on Antena 1 Açores. These cannot and must not be times of selfish and short-sighted divisions among islands. This will be a maritime century, and we must once again learn to look at the land from the sea. The Azores and Madeira will continue to connect Europe, the Americas, and Africa. To do so, we must have the people and the resources necessary to guarantee Portuguese sovereignty throughout the Atlantic.
Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, a curtain of fear has been descending over Portugal. What explains this? What explains our pessimism? Perhaps it is the awareness that a long historical cycle, one that began in 1945 at the end of the Second World War, has come to an end. The future will naturally be different. A multilateral world supported by international institutions, a world that benefited Portugal greatly, is disappearing and being replaced by one that is more hierarchical, more fragmented, and more complex. A great rupture is underway, and we are living through the birth of a new historical cycle. This reality has generated three broad responses. The first is the invocation of power and force to defend interests and privileges. Yet the uncontrolled use of power always produces reactions. The less powerful may not hold many cards, but the powerful do not hold all of them either, though they sometimes forget this. The second response is the defense of multilateralism. Yet multilateralism can only be credible when it is capable of asserting itself in relation to other powers. Let us be honest: the world is not primarily a realm of morality, but a political arena where power matters. Ethical principles matter as well, particularly when they are widely shared, but power remains an unavoidable reality. The third response is the proposal for new coalitions of middle powers to preserve the most important elements of the international system. Yet even these nations will continue to face strategic choices and difficult decisions. The question is how they should make them.
On June 22, 2023, I had lunch with Leonor Magalhães, a former student with whom I had studied Homer and Thucydides at the Institute of Political Studies. During our conversation she asked me a question: “How does my generation learn to think about and participate in strategic choices and decisions? We have never had to think about these things. How do I do it?” Today we should reformulate her question. How do we do it together? By 2030 we will have to accomplish three things. First, we must reconsider one of the assumptions of recent decades: the belief that intuition and speed are more important than knowledge, experience, and strategy. They are not. On a day when we celebrate Camões, a poet of immense learning and memory who never improvised his achievements, it is important to emphasize the value of historical knowledge in helping us find a secure, ambitious, and optimistic path forward. Second, we must recognize that we face a cognitive challenge in understanding reality itself. The historical cycle that began in 1945 and has recently ended was shorter than previous cycles. Technological change and the rapid dissemination of information may help explain this. International politics has always been dynamic, but now decisions must often be made more quickly than before, while the flood of information—good and bad alike—makes understanding the world more difficult. How do we prepare for this? How do we generate the knowledge necessary to support political decision-making at the highest levels of the state? Third, we must accept that we cannot master every tide in the world. What we can do is develop the capacity to understand how societies, scientific and technological ecosystems, communication networks, resource centers, financial systems, and military power are changing, and what those changes mean for us. Only then will we be able to contribute meaningfully to the reinvention of NATO and its European pillar. Only then will we participate actively in the European Union. Only then will we be able to strengthen and diversify our relationships throughout the world.
Mr. President, Ladies and Gentlemen, courage is freedom, and freedom is courage. At Nazaré are some of the largest waves in the world. Hugo Vau and Joana Andrade are among those who look at the land from the sea. They have shown Portugal and the world that it is possible to ride those immense waves. Doing so requires courage, discipline, meticulous preparation, careful assessment of risk, and a broad support network. Today thousands travel to Nazaré to watch these new heroes and heroines of the sea push beyond their limits against walls of water that rise and roar with astonishing force.
In the years ahead, we too will have to navigate waves like those of Nazaré. The tides of history are once again changing the world. This is not a time for illusions about the transformations taking place around us, nor is it a time to bury our heads in the sand and deny reality. It is time to leave behind the field of dreams in which we have lived. We are a country with nearly nine centuries of history, and that alone should give us confidence in the future. Geography has meant that our role in Europe’s continental wars has often been limited, but we have always been important in the transatlantic world. Thoughtful and informed reflection has long been the strength of democratic societies because it dispels both the myths of the past and the fears of the future that cloud our judgment.
By 2030 we will live through urgent times. Disorder and ignorance are our principal enemies. Do we have allies in Europe, the Americas, Asia, and Oceania with whom we share values, interests, and historical memories? Of course we do. Yet, like Camões and like the surfers of Nazaré, we will first depend upon ourselves. We must remain attentive to both allies and adversaries. A free nation should not be afraid. It should not. It should be vigilant. It should be prepared.
Heroes and heroines of the sea, tomorrow is not too far away. I repeat: tomorrow is not too far away.
(English Translation by Diniz Borges)
Miguel Monjardino is a University Professor in the field of Political Science and a writer.
Photos by JEdgardo Vieira, Terceira Island-Azores
