This is chapter 14 in the serialized memoirs in Tamil by Ganeshan Iyer found in http://inioru.com/?p=12399 (whose work has now appeared in book form). The strict translation of thi s chapter would be “Fighters opposing Prabakaran – My records on the Eelam warfare,” but I have chosen to highlight the central motifs in this segment.

  Pics by Shyam Tekwani 

I also have Gobinath Ponnadurai;’s translation of this chapter; while Dayan Jayatilleka has provided a somewhat different translation of key sentences in this document. All the versions are broadly in agreement re the threads of content.

From the minute Brahmin ranks of the Tamil north Ganeshan Iyer was one of the founding members of the LTTE in 1976 and served as Treasurer. After he left the LTTE he moved abroad and eventually found residence in Germany where he officiates as a Hindu priest.

*************

The dream of the Thamil Eelam Tigers was to establish a powerful army. We believed that the basis of this could be started with the making of a disciplined training camp. Prabakaran comes forward with the full plan for this. As planned the training camp was set up in Mankulam. We trained towards this at every opportunity, with small army activities like pistol shooting practices.

The army training began in the planned and established training camp in early 1970. A training camp was built with bunkers and sand bags similar to the fully guarded Army camps. For the first time uniforms were made for the army training and all those who received training were given uniforms. Even the mode of army training is prepared by Prabakaran. The first plans of his long time dream of the army became a reality.

The Government army is built separated from the people. Its inner purpose is to completely destroy the compassionate and humanitarian feelings of the army and make it in to a government tool. The amusing part of this is, that even without being aware of it, we ourselves who say we are fighting for the freedom of our people, were attempting to build an army with no feelings for the people at Mankulam.

Above all, Prabakaran, governed by the discipline and victories of Hitler’s army, is trying to enforce the German army’s practices in to the training of the Thamil Eelam Tigers. He says it is because it was disciplined and firm [that] Hitler’s army has made victories its own.

The order was given that as the first part of the army training all being trained should salute as is done in Hitler’s army. Prabakaran who held in esteem the discipline and firmness of Hitler’s army, wanted the Thamil Eelam Tigers’ army to be its representative. I too did not reject it.

It is at this time the first waves of opposition against Prabakaran began to appear. Some members argued that Hitler’s salute was not necessary. Prabakaran argued against them. He says if a disciplined army is to be formed, the rules and regulations for it are necessary. He argues Hitler’s way is the beginning of it. Notably, Kumanan later killed by the Freedom Tigers opposed this. It was when he too participated in the planning discussions of the training camp this debate arose. In the end, as put forward by Prabakaran, Hitler’s ways were accepted and put in practice.

Other than the two captured mechanized guns, we have bought some mechanized and motorized weapons fromIndia. Along with the camp army parade, organized physical exercises like that in an army training camp, we also put forward shooting practices with guns.

When the people’s army is in the process of growth, the correct environment for a permanent army and for training will come is the idea of Mao’s army. We are forming a steady army before anything else. Towards that all arrangements were made as that of a Government army.

Because the central committee members, Mukundan (ummamaheswaran), Nagarajah, Baby Subramaniam had gone toIndia, only Prabakaran and I remain to make all decisions regarding the training camp. At this time the whole ofJaffnais being covered by the army. Two young men Inpam and Selvan are shot and killed by the army. These murders shocked the whole community in every aspect.

Members in the forefront like Kittu, Sellakkilli, Shanthan, John, Sithappa, Kumarappa and Maathiah are called to the training camp. Prabakaran trains them, and it was decided to give him the same respect as given in Hitler’s army.

At this time another problem arose within the movement. Without any prior notice, Prabakaran brings Ravi and Veeravahu, from Valvettiturai, with no training in the ranks to the camp. To these two who were brought to the training camp, training was given together with the earlier more important members.  Prabakaran did not consult anyone regarding this including me.  Many opposed this. It was the practice for all the others to be trained first in the ranks for a long time, have their commitments checked before entering them in to the level of the movement’s training.  The act of Prabakaran suddenly bringing in two people while there were many other members in the ranks, waiting a long time for army training gave rise to the idea that it was authoritarian. Prabakaran did not have any definite reason for this action. When questions were raised by many, Prabakaran had no answer.

The Police were looking for these two who had stolen chemicals for bomb making fromHartleyCollegewhere they were students. Because of this they had to live in hiding. Many objections were placed before Prabakaran for rejecting Kumanan, Mathi,Raviand other members and bringing in these two in to the movement.

A few days later, the parents of Veeravahu, came to know that while yet a student, he had joined the movement and was in hiding. On learning of this, his family making contact with Tigers like Kumarappa, Maathiah, asked they be allowed to take Veeravahu home. Since Veeravahu also wants to go home, Prabakaran lets him go home. On reaching home, he surrendered to the police. This incident made the distrust in Prabakaran increase more. After this many began to voice opposition to the selfish way of Prabakaran. Little by little the army attitude and the authoritarian ways of Prabakaran began to infiltrate the movement. The section of fighters within us who had progressed did not fail to calm the opposing results from this, from time to time. With all the opposing factions the training camp continued for a while and then was closed down saying the training was done.

During this period, Chanthathiar who was involved in the work of the Gandhian refugee camp, expressing a desire to join the Thamil Eelam Freedom Tigers, contacted Prabakaran. They met together many times. Prabakaran wanted to give him important responsibility with the Tigers.

Urmilla, the first woman who worked for us with Umamaheswaran was being hunted by the police. She who lived in Colombo began to move towards the North in secret. The fear arose that being a woman she could be easily identified and captured.

Under the leadership of Krishnan living in London, there were a few working in support of us. Anton Balasingam had contact with them. News reached us that Anton Balasingam was keen to meet us inIndiaand Prabakaran wanted to go toIndiafor this. As the training camp was already closed, he thought this was a good opportunity to take Urmilla with him toIndia, and so made plans to go toIndia. Prabakaran also made contact with Chanthathiar and asked him to bring the earlier worker Umamaheswaran to meet him.

With Chanthathiar agreeing, the four – Prabakaran, Urmilla, Chanthathiar and Kalapathy left for India in our speed boat. Ravi and Bala also followed them to India.

The film has since been shown at the Galle Literary Festival in January 2012 and apparently went down well according to a note sent to me by Stephen Labrooy. Alexa was kind enough to send me a copy. It so happened that another writer living in USA, Hassina Leelarathna, wrote an essay on the film in the Sunday Leader and I immediately posted this work in the thuppahi site in May 2011. This essay has suddenly come alive with extended blog comments initiated by Mark Labrooy in Melbourne.

The commentary reveals some empirical details re migrant movements, but is more significant in revealing threads of sentiment and interpretations of the Sri Lankan past that are controversial. In my reading they display bitterness as well as prejudice. In this manner they indicate that extremism is not confined to Sinhalese and Tamils. Readers should extend a review of this discussion to the comments penned by Charles Schokman and Ivor Kelaart[i] (also in Melbourne) when they read an article by Professor Kevin Dunn “Perceptions of Racism in Australia: Indians and Lankans most victimized– says Kevin Dunn” = http://thuppahi.wordpress.com/2011/09/21/racism-in-australia-indians-and-lankans-most-victimized-says-kevin-dunn/.

I refrain for the moment from presenting more extended commentary on the historical interpretations (with all their slants and distortions) voiced by those who have been moved to enter their opinions in the public realm. The views expressed are thought-provoking and should encourage debate and contestation. It is with this hope that I have extracted them from the deep recesses of a site that is little visited so that a wider public can ruminate on the experiences and interpretative readings of the several Sri Lankans who have taken the trouble to present their views in my thuppahi site. Michael Roberts

 Blog Commentary

1.      A Comment from Mark Labrooy in Melbourne, writing as a “damned proud Ceylon Burgher,” 1 January 2012.

I found the movie nothing more than a somewhat humourous snapshot of a small Burgher community coming to terms with the reality of living in a country that has unquestionably deteriorated since independence.

Your review doesn’t mention the downward spiral the country went into since “Sinhala Only” was introduced around 1958. I know I was there as a child but old enough to know what was happening. It was a wonderful childhood with many indelible memories.

As for Burghers regarding themselves as an elite? I agree they did and they thought themselves above the “natives”. But this is no more so than many high birth Sinhalese who also regard themselves as socially upward of the native class as you call them. This is true to this very day as I have relations, who are Sinhalese, living in Sri Lanka who are clearly a cut above the rest. They are highly educated and live in a socio-economic layer that is higher than the average. So what is the difference between that and the social layering one finds in society generally no matter where one goes, even China?

The Burghers of Ceylon left the country in droves at the introduction of “Sinhala only”. As the socialist government of the day were hall-bent on constricting (or restricting) opportunity to the Sinhalese majority the Burghers had no option but to uproot themselves. Here you will find the origins of the Tamil Eelam movement.

Sinhala only is a very sad vestige of modern Sri Lankan history. It was political opportunism. Why I ask have so many Sinhalese migrated to live in America, Britain, Canada and Australia? Why I ask do the Sinhalese who can afford it send their children to study in these countries? Have they come to terms with Sinhala only as an unmitigated disaster?

Its a paradox that not many Sinhalese like to address.

2.      Response from Stephen Labrooy in Sri Lanka, 27 January 2012

Whilst I agree in the main with Mark LaBrooy’s comments, the main aspect of Sinhala Only which was unpalatable to the Burgher community was the abolition of the English stream in schools. It was a pre-requisite for us that our children were educated in our mother tongue- English.(A not unreasonable requirement !). I firmly believe that the vast majority of us would have stayed here had that element been removed from the Sinhala Only bill. Yes the bill was political opportunism at its worst, but in a way it answered a call from the vast majority of this country (non-English speaking) who felt that they were totally “left out” after independence. The right decision would have been to make all three languages — Sinhala, Tamil and English — the official languages of Sri Lanka and at the same time build up the English stream in all village schools. At a very late stage, it has dawned on the Sinhala people – only in the last two decades or so- that far from being the beneficiaries of Sinhala Only, they are in fact its greatest victims! Only English speakers can step into the top positions outside of Government Jobs- which do pay well. Those students who have struggled to get nto University and were entirely Sinhala Educated now had to learn English in order to be able to read their text books! Steps are now being taken by the current administration to try and address this problem. People castigate SWRD Bandaranaike for this lamentable situation, but in my opinion J.R Jayawardene was by far the bigger culprit. Here was a man who had achieved virtual dictatorial powers in 1977, had all the power necessary to put things right in our education system (when we still had teachers in this country who could teach in English) and did nothing. Sometimes, it would appear that the sins of omission are greater than those of commission!

3.      Response from Mark Labrooy, 27 January 2012

Hi Stephen, Mate, you and I are on the same page…I think!

Thanks for your reply. You will obviously look at the situation over the last 60 plus years from a “local” Burgher perspective. On the ground so to speak, or, as the movie portrays, a man who came to Australia for a while and then returned to SL but with a close affinity to what was happening on the “street”.

I look at the matter from an outside perspective. I know the hardship my parents went through in taking a family with six children to a miserable bloody existence in South London for the first eight years 1962 to around 1970. My Dad left a directorship with Ceylon Fibre Industries for the sake of the family. All of us have come through, tougher, wiser and with no regrets of our parents decision to leave Ceylon.

I never for a moment thought about why my parents took us away. Now, as a man of mature years I am asking questions. In learning the truth I am quite bitter about what happened.

Stephen, I will leave a final comment: Isn’t it ironic that the incubators and implementers of Sinhala only, namely, Philip Gunawardene, Colvin R. De Silva, S.A. Wickremasinghe, S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike and Peter Keuneman ALL completed their education in Universities in the UK and America…in English.

I lament the fact that a Burgher (Keuneman) was involved with this motley crew.

4.      Riposte from Podinilame Dissanayake in USA, 28 January 2012

I saw ‘Tropical Amsterdam’ at a showing in Los Angeles and I think the filmmaker has done a good job of capturing the lives of the ‘conquerors’ whose roles have now been reversed. The film does not make a pretense of being a historical epic about the rise and fall of the Burghers in Sri Lanka.

I have no doubt that Mr La Brooy had a great childhood growing up in Sri Lanka. Unfortunately, the majority of the people, didn’t. His ‘indelible memories’ don’t extend to the vast majority of the “conquered” commoners who for centuries under colonial rule faced degradation, including massacres (Uva Wellassa and Kanda Udarata). I’m not sure if he’s even familiar with that aspect of our history. The usage of the mother tongue was prohibited in schools and jobs did not come by without English, which education was not available to the commoner. One had to be christened or swear slave allegiance to the colonial master to succeed: “……many high birth Sinhalese who regarded themselves as socially upward” as stated by Mr La Brooy, came from such stock and they were a minute percentage of the Sinhala community.

Imagine a justice system where judgments are passed and the accused are clueless about the judicial proceedings and their rights because they don’t know the language in use? Such was the fate of the Sinhalese under colonial rule, as well depicted in Leonard Woolf’s “Baddegama.” If English was a barrier for social upward mobility for the vast majority of the populace, why was it wrong to have been supplanted with the language of the majority?

As for LaBrooy’s sweeping statement that Sri Lanka is “….a country that has unquestionably deteriorated since independence…” I challenge him to be specific and submit indicators of deterioration. Is it per capita income, quality of life indicators, or what? In fact, far from being worse, for the majority of the ‘conquered,’ things have vastly improved. You only have to look at the makeup of our cricket teams, or the dramatic career of an athlete like Susanthika Jayasinghe, for evidence.

LaBrooy and others who carry the “Sinhala only” vendetta must see it for [what] it is: a passing phase in a nation trying to find its wings after independence. It may have been political opportunism but one that gave space to the political and social advancement of a once “conquered” community that was suppressed because of the English barrier. The children of the post-independence era, having gotten their opportunity through “swabasha,” have now moved into the 21st century. Microsoft Chairman Bill Gates commented in 2009: “I am optimistic that the country is poised for greater economic growth and development, and much of that will be fueled by the use of software and the power of IT. Sri Lanka’s high literacy rate, at over 90%, and its high standards of education and healthcare give it a strong economic foundation. The country’s IT literacy rate is nearing 20%, which represents a significant jump from 8% only a few years ago.” These opportunities are available to all Sri Lankans, and they don’t have to change their religion or speak a language that their parents don’t understand. English has been taught continuously in the past 60 years in schools and its importance as a link to global opportunities has never been minimized.

Mr La Brooy’s attempt to borrow from the LTTE bill boards are shameful. The seeds of separatism by interested political figures were sowed prior to independence, very much prior to the Sinhala Only act.

Finally, Labrooy’s argument that Sinhala parents are sending their kids abroad ”having come to terms with Sinhala only as an unmitigated disaster,” is nothing less than laughable. US immigration stats show that between 2000 and 2010 over 1,400,000 people from Europe, including 200,000 from the UK became permanent residents or citizens. That doesn’t account for the number of people who attempted but were not able to gain legal residence. What does that tell you? That they have all come to terms with their native languages as an ‘unmitigated disaster’ or are they seeking better opportunities just as the human race has been doing through migration since before the so-called ‘dawn of civilization?’ Can one conclude that the recent wide interest in China, by those living in western nations (mastering Mandarin and Cantonese and handling chop sticks) is because they have come to terms with “English only” as an unmitigated disaster or because they see trade and other advancements?

I must add that there were a few advanced colonial-era educators who did try to give a place to the Sinhala language in their schools. One such was Rev A.G. Fraser who as early as in the 1920’s included Sinhala in the curricula at Trinity College, Kandy (my alma mater). The much-revered Rev. Fraser is credited with uplifting Trinity from a provincial to a national school with his far-sighted policies which were not always in line with those of the colonial masters. He was by no means a political opportunist!

5.      Response from Mark Labrooy, 29 January 2012

Sir or Madam, Let me take issue with several of the points you raise:

The Burghers were not “conquerors” as you put it. They didn’t conquer anyone. They were a relatively small group of people of largely mixed descent that chose to remain after the Dutch were ousted from Ceylon. The contemporary definition of a Ceylon Burgher also includes people of British and Portuguese origins.

The Burghers didn’t “rise” to a particular social class in Ceylon. Their position was pre-ordained as a result of being able to work with the British who were the last conquerors of the island. The Burghers had a predilection to mix and work with all groups which is why the British put them into administrative and supervisory roles. Mind you the British were staunch separatists in a social sense as depicted in the film.

The Burghers haven’t “fallen” as you put it. We proudly evangelize our origins from our new countries of domicile and would add that we now contribute substantially to Sri Lankan tourism revenue. Many Burghers have risen to great prominence, too numerous to give a blow by blow account here.

So, I will confine your comments to mere Burgher xenophobia.

The use of the mother tongue was NOT prohibited in schools. I went to St Peters College, Colombo up until 1962 where they had both English and Sinhalese streams. The English stream was taught Sinhala as a second language and the Sinhalese stream was taught English as a second language. I understand that all the major schools had the same mot certainly during my early years.

Ananda and Nalanda colleges were schools where the students were taught exclusively in Sinhalese. Please get your facts straight.

Post independence but more specifically post 1956 the country went into conflict with the Tamils. “Sinhala only” was the root cause. The war came to an end last year with the tally of dead of somewhere between 80,000 to 100,000 people. If that ALONE isn’t deterioration then I’m sorry say you are living on another planet. The cost of the war to the country in social and economic breakdown was massive. There was virtually nil foreign investment in the country.

I visited SL in 2006. I found Colombo to be a filthy city on a par with Cairo. Householders were happy to pile their garbage in front of their own homes. When the pile got too big they threw their rubbish into the canals or the railway lines. Yes, I walked from the Bambalapitiya Flats (where I used to live) to Kinross along the railway line and couldn’t believe my eyes. And moreover, the average person on the street couldn’t give a hoot. He/She had no pride of place. In my day there was some rubbish around but not to the extent of what it was in 2006. THAT is deterioration.

Today, you have white van kidnappings, journalists who are hounded and killed for publishing a particular view in a so-called democratic country. The leader of the Opposition is put in jail. THAT is deterioration.

The Sinhala Only Act was a brutal act of xenophobia. It led to Tamil and Burgher job-holders having to re-apply for their own jobs but now having to prove proficiency in Sinhala. Fact not fiction. Sinhala only was the brain-child of a Communist Sri Lankan elite all overseas educated in ENGLISH. See my earlier blog. The policy was blatant ethnic separatism, and that gave rise to the big riots of 1958 where Tamils were bludgeoned on the street by Sinhalese thugs. Fact not fiction. I know because the Bamba Flats was a place of refuge for many Tamil families and their friends and relatives. They were protected by a vigilante group consisting of Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim and Burgher people.

As for the SL cricket team, the last time I looked they got a well-deserved hammering at the hands of the South Africans. The Jayasinghe lady did very well in one of the Olympic events and was a creditable performance, but coming third is not the standard one should aspire to.

Pradeep Jeganathan

Tuesday night found me in a television studio. The discussion programme I was invited to, TNL’s Ellchchi (which means light or awakening), is an exemplary one – conducted both in Sinhala and Tamil, its aim is to broaden the understanding of issues that Tamils face, by directly addressing the Sinhala people. Dayanandan and Sudath Jayasundara who anchor it, together, but also in Tamil and Sinhala respectively, are very good. I am not a regular of course; this was only my second visit.

Tuesday night found me in a television studio. The discussion programme I was invited to, TNL’s Ellchchi (which means light or awakening), is an exemplary one – conducted both in Sinhala and Tamil, its aim is to broaden the understanding of issues that Tamils face, by directly addressing the Sinhala people. Dayanandan and Sudath Jayasundara who anchor it, together, but also in Tamil and Sinhala respectively, are very good. I am not a regular of course; this was only my second visit.

During the show, I sat between a calm, thoughtful and very well-spoken Buddhist Monk from Wali Oya, in what used to be called the border villages, and a well known, equally articulate independent Tamil Politician who is quite popular in Colombo. I want to talk about what was said, but it’s not a matter of personalities for me, so I’m not going to name my fellow panelist.

Administrative devolution:  The issue as laid out on my right was this. Administrative devolution. What does this mean? Administrative devolution, which the monk whole-heartedly supported, means bringing the state closer to the people. It’s a position and practice that as old as the Premedasa regime in Sri Lanka, it’s a view espoused by many incarnations of the JVP. In this view, the Tamils don’t really have any special problems, except that of language that everyone agrees now, should be solved in the schools by producing multilingual students early. The problems of the Tamils, the monk said, were the same as those of the Sinhala and Muslims, lack of infrastructure, lack of opportunity, lack of employment. I think there is a lot of truth in that, but no, it’s not the whole truth.

On my left, the politician argued otherwise. No he said, there are special problems that the Tamils have, and at least the 13th amendment was the answer. But a broader frame of state reform and power-sharing was needed, this was his claim. Again, it is a well known one, going back to Chelvanakam’s Federal Party, and the numerous agreements, packs, packages and amendments we’ve had. Provincial councils are the small product of this large argument; what their powers should be, in relation to land and police, are now being debated. Again, I think there is a lot to this position; it does address a real and felt need of Tamils who live in the North; they have voted for it several times.

Power-sharing: I think I was supposed to debate the right and left of it. I didn’t. I proposed, all out of the blue, that if we have a cabinet of 27, let’s say, each province would elect 3 members. One of these must be from a poorly served, under build area in the province. We have nine provinces so it would be 27. Nine would represent ‘backward’ regions in the provinces. It’s power-sharing. It’s regional. It’s not Sinhala, Tamil or Muslim. The number of 27 is just a number; it is divisible by 9, the number of provinces.

Now the idea of a “Cabinet” here stands for the question and problem of the force field that emanates from the centre that is Colombo. Did you know that since 1956, we’ve not had many elected MPs from the Northern Province in the cabinet? Actually it’s only one person in all those years, and some would say, he isn’t even really elected at all.

My proposal is sketchy, my space is limited here. But my point is not about the Cabinet as such. If the Cabinet has no power, and no money to spend, this idea is useless. But we have active men and women who have authority and money to spend on development. They should be elected and from every province in Sri Lanka. Yes, in Parliament there are. So that’s not new or radical. But they divide up according to parties, and the issue becomes well, why don’t the northern Tamil parties ever join the government?

The TNA sits outside, and is at loggerheads with the regime. The conventional answer might be, ‘bring them in.’ Give them 13++ and bring them in. But it’s not working and won’t work – if you do, another section will pull out, and the regime becomes unstable.

I offer, conceptually, another way. Nothing has to be given or taken. Let each province have its representatives in the centre. And share power. This plan does not depend on politician’s being sincere, or particularly good or nice to each other. It concedes that power is ugly, dirty, and cynical. But still, it can be shared. The point here is that regional representatives, from outside centres of traditional power be they be from Point Pedro or Siyabalaanudwa share power at the centre. It doesn’t have to be called the Cabinet, this body, but in it, must lie authority. Do it, I tell you, and we will be done.

On 4^th December 2011 the Sunday Island carried a headline: “Mahinda ready to meet General Fonseka’s family over pardon” — with a picture alongside showing President Mahinda Rajapaksa seated in an armchair perusing an official document – a document in royal red and marked by a recognisable state seal. It is the juxtaposition of the headline and image that drew my interest. In my reading as an analyst attentive to indigenous cultural threads, this combination suggested several interrelated motifs, namely, that

1. President Rajapaksa is the epitome of sovereign power, vested with the rights of clemency on high, just like Sinhalese kings of the past who could be supplicated by condemned subjects who crawled on their knees to the palace gates (mahāvāsala) and begged for pardon for their evil-doings or crimes;[i]
2. President Rajapaksa is akin to a manorial lord of the past, a patrimonial figure who is readily accessible on his verandah to subordinate officials, tenants and other people seeking favours from this font of noblesse oblige;
3. President Rajapaksa is a son of the soil, native to core. After all, what can be more native than a hansi putuva? He is, therefore, as personable as approachable.

The Citizens’ Movement for Good Governance (CIMOGG) has generally refrained from proposing any specific solutions to the ethnic conflict because successive governments have invariably gone against the advice given by moderate individuals and groups in this regard. It would have been counterproductive for CIMOGG to have tendered yet more unsolicited advice that was bound to be ignored. Even the interim recommendations made months ago by the Lessons Learnt & Reconciliation Commission (LLRC), within the circumscribed Terms of Reference given to it, have been largely ignored by the government. What will eventually happen to the recommendations contained in the Commission’s Final Report and the several earlier reports on solving the National Question is anybody’s guess.  

Without going into the complexities of the so-called class and ethnic problems, there is little doubt that, if our governments had not progressively made a mockery of the Rule of Law and good governance, there would, for example, have been no JVP uprisings, or the demand for Eelam or a Muslim Provincial Council, or increasing attacks on the Police, who are called upon far too often to protect politically powerful wrongdoers as well as to impose on the public ill-thought out laws, rules and regulations. In the absence of well-discussed and fair laws, properly administered, the average citizen, irrespective of group allegiances, is faced with the choice of suffering every kind of injustice in silence or resorting to violence.

Individual citizens, irrespective of race, religion, caste, gender or other affiliation, would probably have had occasion to feel, on some issue or another, that they were denied justice because of improper interference with the normal administrative and judicial processes. Although the majority does not suffer the adverse effects of misgovernance to the quite same extent as the minorities (on account of the history of the past thirty years and more), many of the former who do not have political patronage and protection do. This is an aspect of the reality that the minorities should not ignore. In the interests of building a productive partnership with the majority, they should adopt an inclusive approach on such matters and work with the majority for a level playing field for everyone rather than concentrate solely on their own special problems. The confrontational atmosphere that permeates discussion of minority problems will tend to become less sharp with time as the majority and minorities work together on broader national problems. In any event, on the basis that unity is strength, it is in the interests of the minorities to join hands with the majority to safeguard the common rights of all Sri Lankan citizens.

The rights which are most often violated in Sri Lanka are probably freedom from wrongful arrest and indefinite detention, freedom from torture, the right to life and the right to information. Some of us are liable, at some point of time, to be at the receiving end of these violations unless we happen to have powerful political backing.  Manifestly, what is required is for all citizens to demand jointly that there should be a stop to these perversions, which became rampant as a consequence of the barefaced violation of the 17th Amendment (17-A). The situation became much worse after 17-A’s subsequent reincarnation in the form of the diabolical 18th Amendment (18-A) which was created by a constitutional coup d’etat that has converted Sri Lanka into a comprehensive dictatorship.

In their preoccupation with their own problems, which are certainly matters of the greatest consequence, minorities have totally lost sight of the many ways in which they should and could fight many other equally important causes jointly with the majority.  For example, assuming – however far-fetched it may be – that the North-East Tamils get “13-A plus devolution” within a unitary or even united Sri Lanka, the retention of 18-A will make complete nonsense of whatever they achieve on paper. Consequently, the restoration and improvement of independent institutions for public administration and the dispensation of justice, as set out in 17-A, is of the foremost importance. All thinking people knew that there were some imperfections in 17-A which had to be rectified, but the right answers are not to be found in 18-A.

All citizens, irrespective of whether they belong to the majority or the minorities, should make every effort to do whatever is necessary to counter the wildly undemocratic content of 18-A. For a start, they should press loudly and clearly for the appointment of an independent Constitutional Council (CC) somewhat on the lines set out in 17-A. How the members of the CC are to be chosen should, however, not be left in the hands of one man or one party or even Parliament alone. An acceptable mechanism for ensuring that only persons of independence, integrity, ability and experience are selected as members of the CC can be designed.  CIMOGG, if called upon to do so as part of a constitution-making exercise, would be prepared to develop the framework of such a mechanism and submit it for wide public discussion.

Yet more cause for apprehension is that, in the course of time, there is bound to be yet another unfair Constitution foisted upon the People as an ‘urgent’ matter where only a privileged few and the Supreme Court will be allowed to have a superficial glance at its contents some hours or a couple of days before it is rushed through a Parliament, of which the government members, post 18-A, have been allowed less independence of spirit than a collection of castrated sheep.  Citizens of every provenance should move quickly before they are forced to ‘fall from the 1978 constitutional frying pan into a fire’ that would be much more incendiary. It should be obvious that, in the common interest, every citizen should oppose the surreptitious imposition of a new Constitution, with even worse provisions than the present one, being brought in to make vassals of all of those who do not belong to the privileged oligarchy. This is a matter of concern not only for the majority but also for all the minorities.

It is heartening to note that there are some well-intentioned people who are trying to take steps, outside the ambit of governmental initiatives, to bring together the diverse peoples of Sri Lanka so that the enmities of the past may be given decreasing importance, even if the injuries and hurt caused are not formally forgiven or forgotten.  The 6 January 2012 appeal in The Island by a group of thoughtful Tamils is a praiseworthy example of this kind of desire for concerted action. We welcome their initiative, just as several others have already done. But how does one convert these good intentions into actions that will actually result in reconciliation and greater justice for all?  This is where proactive citizens, of whatever community or group, should not remain silent but get together and lobby vigorously to have all proposed future legislation opened out to considered public discussion and comment, and have a panel of independent experts, appointed by the CC, to help eliminate the usual resort to deliberate vagueness of concept and wording.

Not only will the minority automatically benefit by any improvement achieved in governance and the dispensation of justice, they will get to have a better rapport with the majority so that all could live and work together peacefully as Sri Lankans with a firm commitment to the welfare of the next generation.

* speaking as President of CIMOGG Aand author of Good Governance and the Rule of Law –see http://www.globalpeacesupport.com/globalpeacesupport.com/post/2011/09/12/e28098Good-Governance-and-the-Rule-of-Lawe28099-by-Dr-A-C-Visvalingam-%28for-CIMOGG%29-September-10-2011-536-pm-Reviewed-by-Leelananda-de-Silva.aspx

Gananath Obeyesekere

This massive, ambitious project by a distinguished historian of religion contains a series of essays that span a long time period from Sri Lanka’s mythic origins to the terrifying 25-year insurrec­tion of the Tamil Tigers – the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) – and its final eradication by the Sri Lankan army. It is difficult to review a comprehensive collec­tion of this magnitude without bringing to bear the reviewer’s own prejudices.

My criticism of this work is that it plans to do too much and therefore achieves too little. It is “all you wanted to know about Sri Lanka” within the frame of a single vol­ume which to me is an impossible task. The work is sprawling and lacks an organising principle and “history, culture, politics” is too broad to be manageable. The editor brings together disparate essays by social scientists, colonial historians, poets and novelists along with journalistic articles in newspapers, but they lack an overall analytical or interpretative framework that will benefit students and scholars alike.

Glimpses of History: The book’s cover with its romantic setting of fisherfolk near a lagoon against the backdrop of a beautiful house or hotel seems to me at odds with much of what the editor wants to say about the Island’s recent trou­bled history. One might have been able to make sense of this work if the editor had a long essay that tied together into a mean­ingful whole the five “parts” that constitute this volume; or for that matter if there was a long introduction to each part. Unfortu­nately, the editor’s own introductory notes are too brief to serve this function.

Part I dealing with Sri Lanka’s pre-mod­ern period is, I think, the best because it is comprehensive and the essays contained there are both interesting and give us val­uable glimpses of the nation’s past. This is followed by Part II with shorter essays on the “colonial encounter”, i e, the Portu­guese, Dutch and British periods (from 1,505 onwards). In Part III we move into the politics and culture of the last king­dom of Kandy and on to our own times where the excerpts deal with Buddhist, Muslim, Burgher and Tamil identities. Part IV is on another vast topic entitled “Independence, Insurrections and Social Change” and then on to Part V, a “Political Epilogue” on the post-war situation after the defeat of the Tamil Tigers.

The book is generously dedicated to those Sri Lankans who have died as a re­sult of political violence and those who work for peace but it tells us very little on the violence and anomie that the long war and its aftermath have produced. Violence in recent times is not simply confined to the long war and its suppression, but also re­lates to the brutal Janatha Vimukthi Pera­muna insurrection of Sri Lankan youth in the late 1980s and the equally brutal sup­pression by the then government of Presi­dent Premadasa in which it is estimated that about 60,000 people were killed. Even if we reduce this official estimate to 20,000 dead, we are confronted with a searing commentary on violence by Sinhalas against Sinhalas, an issue that Holt does not discuss.

Alongside these brutalities Sri Lanka is proud to be the first or the near first in other areas: it has maybe the highest rate of suicides in the world, followed by equally horrendous homicide rates. And if one can rely on official statistics the nation’s Sinhala and Tamil males are among the largest consumers of alcohol in the world, assuming, of course, that most Muslims and women in general abstain from alcohol or are only moderate consumers. Violence against women, sexual abuse of children and multiplying cases of incest (owing to absent women working in west Asia) that have been highlighted in recent times do not merit mention anywhere in this collection.

Instead, the editor has chosen an essay “Sarvodaya in a Buddhist Society” by Ariyaratne, the Sarvodaya chief, who at­tempts to produce a Buddhist version of socio-economic and political development. Ariyaratne, in his numerous publications, seriously believes that, prior to western contact, Sri Lankan villages expressed Buddhist ideals and lived harmonious lives where inequalities did not prevail. Such an idealised model of village life simply did not and could not exist in Sri Lanka or else­where in the world. I doubt that Sarvodaya has made the slightest impact on the issues that I have highlighted, including matters relating to peace and human rights viola­tions following the end of the long war.

Precolonial Sri Lanka: I mentioned that the largest and best section of this collection is on precolonial Sri Lanka with one serious exception. The editor believes that the Vädda hunters or “people like them” had lived here for perhaps “millennia” without offering a scrap of evidence to substantiate this vision of his­tory and without examining whether such groups or so-called tribals, like many other south Indian peoples, continued to migrate into Sri Lanka from the neighbouring subcontinent. All of us after all have been “aborigines” at some point in our un­known pasts!

Holt applauds the account of the Väddas by the famous Scottish prisoner Robert Knox in the mid-17th century (who was free to travel in a large area demarcated by the king) and who in his work The Historical Relation of the Island of Ceylon spoke of two sorts of Väddas, wild and tame, based on the perennial western preoccupation with nature and culture, the wild living like the beasts of the jungle. Knox probably did not even see a single so-called wild man of the woods, except for fleeting glimpses of them when he was fleeing the Kandyan kingdom. Surely, an excerpt from the classic work The Veddas (1911) by CG and Brenda

Z Seligmann (especially their excellent ac­count of Vädda religion) would have been more apt, not to mention the recent im­portant collection of historical essays on Väddas with a scholarly commentary by Peter Schalk, Vädi into Vanniyalätto (2004). Colonial Sri Lanka I have serious qualifications on Holt’s selections from the colonial period and I will admit this might be due to my own anti-colonial prejudices. The excerpts from the Portuguese period are entirely by Europeans. Sri Lankan scholars and the many texts written by local historians during the period of the wars with the Portuguese do not enter the picture.

The Dutch period articles fortunately include two Sri Lankan historians, but the excerpts from the British period are most unsatisfactory because the voice of Sri Lankans has been stilled. Even John Davy, who in general emerges as a sympathetic colonial officer, has in this volume an appalling, gratuitous and unverified dis­course on the brutality of the last king of Kandy, Sri Vikrama Rajasinha. It is as if the editor has accepted uncritically Davy’s account, including the king ordering the wife of his enemy Ähälepola to pound her infant child on a mortar, a myth that the Sri Lanka historian P E Pieris has effectively deconstructed, pointing out its colonial origins in “The Tragedy of Ehelepola’s Family” (pp 175-85 in Tri Sinhala: The Last Phase). There is no doubt that this was a time when a great deal of brutality pre­vailed on both sides of the warring divide, but one must remember that the last king built the beautiful “palace of the tooth relic” and the adjacent lake in Kandy and that he was popular with many sections of the Sinhala population.

The key event of the resistance against the British was the 1817-18 rebellion that was put down with terrifying violence by the British. While the account by the colonial historian Jonathan Forbes might, as Holt rightly recognises, provide an insight into the British representation of these events, it unfortunately has the effect of sanitising the devastation and brutality unleashed by the colonial regime. As late as 1896, the British judge Archibald Lawrie could say in his Gazetteer of the Central Province of Ceylon (Vol 1, p 203): “The story of the English rule in the Kandyan country during 1817 and 1818 cannot be related without shame. In 1819, hardly a member of the leading fam­ilies, the heads of the people, remained alive; those whom the sword and the gun had spared, cholera and smallpox and privations had slain by hundreds.”

The Pax Britannica that followed the re­bellion was initially erected on a terrifying base in Sri Lanka as it was in other lands that the empire subjugated. The excerpt from the much less significant rebellion in 1848 is again by Governor Torrington, the very person responsible for its brutal suppression. Holt does recognise that Torrington’s account is a kind of self-vindication and also as with Davy and Forbes, a justification and rationalisation of colonial power, but he does not mention that Torrington was, in fact, recalled by the government in Britain for the excesses committed by him and his advisers.

The essays on colonial rule are followed by a brief series of excerpts on “Kandyan culture in the colonial era”, that unfortu­nately tells us very little of this important period. The Kandy period also saw consid­erable literary activity but Holt’s examples are poems on two local gods Pitiye and Dadimunda. He seems to be unaware that these poems or “ballads” are really texts sung in collective rituals or in shrines for local deities. Such local deities are found everywhere in Sri Lanka from very an­cient times and cannot simply be seen as a “result of Tamil migrations” or as “resist­ance to Portuguese rule” during the Kandy period (p 308).

Emergence of Identities: For me it is a relief to move to Part III on “Emerging Identities”. Here Holt is familiar with his material, and moreover, he deals with “identities” that have been little known previously, namely, that of Muslims and Burghers, the mixed descendants of Europeans. The excerpts on “Buddhist identities” are extremely useful as also to a lesser degree the discussions on “Tamil identities”. I suppose someone teaching a course on Sri Lanka might be able to com­plement the excerpts on identity with a discussion on what is meant by term “identity”, so sadly misused nowadays.

Part IV on “Independence, Insurrection and Social Change” is also, unfortunately, a vast topic embracing a long historical trajectory and so can only end up by tell­ing us very little of independence” or of “insurrection” or “social change”. But a teacher using this text might be able to fill in the blanks. The last section on “Political Dialogue” is a brave attempt to deal with the aftermath of the long war and the spectre of human rights violations, but based entirely on newspaper articles or popular accounts.

I find the concluding essay “Kingship in the Making” by Doug Saunders particu­larly offensive. On the basis of propagan­da from the president’s office that many did not take seriously, the author implies that President Rajapaksa himself has aspi­rations to wear a crown. I doubt this. But I will confess that, as I write this essay, many do see him as someone who “saved” the nation from the brutal LTTE. Surely such a view is not without its truth. But that truth cannot excuse human rights vio­lations that currently afflict the nation as a whole; or for that matter obscure the looming threat of the cultural and political colonisation of the north by the Sinhala Buddhist majority. Conclusions I would have liked to see these issues dis­cussed in much greater detail and with moral sensitivity, rather than rely on newspaper articles familiar to most of us. As far as Saunders’ paper is concerned, I would add that self-glorification and ego-inflation of political leaders via posters is endemic here as in the neighbouring sub­continent, especially south India, and also in much of the non-western world. But such continuing propaganda will surely begin to wear thin in the public which will lose interest in them just as it is also beginning to lose interest in the vulgar “hoardings” and crass advertisements that deface our beautiful country-side. Nevertheless, the omnipresent images of the president often enough accompanied (metaphorically speaking) by all the king’s men do not mean that the public at large is naïve enough to believe, as in the Kipling short story, that Rajapaksa is “a man who would be king”.

Gananath Obeyesekere (sekere@Princeton.EDU) is with Princeton University, Princeton, New Jersey, United States.

Ramesh Thakur

 Pics from Reuters

From The Island, 23 January 2012

Senior Sri Lankan Journalist, Vijitha Yapa with Vice President of the Republic of South Sudan Dr Rick Machar Teny. They were at an international conference held in mid January titled ‘making democracy real’ where Mr Yapa presented a paper on the future of Sri Lanka’s democracy. Mr Yapa said that it was not a question of asking who was right after a bitter war but what was left. “It is from there we need to pick up the pieces and work towards reconciliation.” He said that more than preaching to Sri Lanka, countries need to assist Sri Lanka in ensuring democratic rights and a future for all her people.

Dr Rick Machar was interested to hear of Sri Lanka’s initiatives for reconciliation with the minorities after the 30 year war. Speaking on South Sudan’s challenge on national reconciliation and good governance, he said that 30 years of war and 2.5 million dead had left his country traumatized.

He said 72% of the population was under 30 and knew nothing but violence and that simmering violence remained under the surface and asked for the help of the international community in national reconciliation. Riek Machar obtained a PhD in mechanical engineering in 1984 and then joined the rebel Sudan People’s Liberation Movement/Army(SPLM/A) during the Second Sudanese Civil War (1983–2005).

The Opposition Leader from Myanmar, Aung San Suu Kyi in a special video message asked the delegates to concentrate as much on the responsibilities as on rights. “How do we develop a sense of democratic responsibility? Where does it start? in the family? in school? in University? in the homes? There are so many different ways to start it but I believe that it starts in the family. From the family into society we should understand what democracy entails not just in the matter of rights but in terms of responsibility.”

Some 200 delegates from 37 countries attended the four day conference held in Panchgani, India. It was organized by the Initiatives of Change.

NEW DELHI, January 22: Sri Lankan author Shehan Karunatilaka has won the US$ 50,000 (LKR 5.68 million) DSC prize for South Asian Literature for Chinaman at the Jaipur Literature Festival (JLF). The prize and a unique trophy were presented to the 36-six-year-old Singapore-based Sri Lankan by Bhutan’s Queen Mother Ashi Dorji Wangmo Wangchuk in Jaipur on Saturday night.  The DSC Prize for South Asian Literature celebrates the richness and diversity of South Asian writing. It was instituted last year by DS Constructions Ltd, an Indian infrastructure and construction company.It is a literary prize, awarded annually to writers of any ethnicity or nationality writing about South Asia themes such as culture, politics, history or people for an original full-length novel, written in English, or translated into English.

“Chinaman: The Legend of Pradeep Mathew” is the story of a retired Sri Lankan sports journalist’s hunt for a long-forgotten, and a fictional, Sri Lankan cricket player, Pradeep Mathew.

A jury, chaired by Ira Pande along with renowned literary figures Dr Alastair Niven, Dr. Fakrul Alam, Faiza S Khan, and Marie Brenner, chose the book from a short-list of six extraordinary books that included: UR Ananthamurthy: Bharathipura, Chandrakanta: A Street in Srinagar, Usha KR: Monkey-man, Tabish Khair: The Thing About Thugs, and Kavery Nambisan: The Story that Must Not Be Told. Ira Pande, chairperson of the jury said, “The winner was chosen last night unanimously by the jury, it just took us half an hour to decide who deserves this prize.”

In January 2011, the inaugural DSC Prize was won by Pakistani author HM Naqvi for his debut novel Home Boy.

Karunatilaka works for an advertising firm in Singapore. Educated at Saint Thomas Preparatory School, Kollupitiya, and Saint Thomas College, Mount Lavinia, he obtained a BA in English literature from New Zealand. Karunatilaka says he used cricket as a device to write about Sri Lankan society. “Chinaman” was first published in Sri Lanka, where it won the 2009 Gratiaen Prize. It is a first person narrative of a manic alcoholic retired sports journalist, WG Karunasena. It skillfully uses cricket and the notion of fair play to look at Sri Lanka in “a fresh and exciting way.”

His debut novel “The Painter” was short-listed for the Gratiaen in 2000, but was never published. “Chinaman” began as short stories and cricket anecdotes that slowly took the shape of a longer work. He wrote it over an year and a half between 5am and 8am.