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| Sunday, 20 July 2003 |
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| News Business Features Editorial
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Recovering Sinhala civilisation Observations by LAKSHMAN GUNASEKERA Twenty years ago today, some areas of Colombo and the south-western and eastern seaboard were teeming with Western and Japanese tourists. Whenever a cruise liner docked in Colombo, Upper Chatham Street, on a weekday, would be dominated by Whites, as would be Lak Sala. There were probably as many Whites in Naarigama (Hikkaduwa's beach resort suburb) as the local villagers. Clubs of Aussie surfers would pilgrimage to Arugam Bay, in Pottuvil at this time of the year. Even as they landed at Katunayake or stepped on to the Vijaya Quay those Whites would not have dreamt that within days, by the 24th of July, the country would be in flames and that, for many of the tourists, their holiday was to be an episode of terror and ethnic hatred. On which day did 'July '83' actually begin? It began on different days for different people, even different large sections of the population. For myself, it began on July 25th. Monday morning when, standing in my research office garden in Torrington, I looked westwards and idly noted the blackness of what I, momentarily, presumed to be welcome monsoon clouds coming in from the sea. Even before I quickly concluded that those were really and obviously smoke clouds stretching the length of the western horizon, which meant the Galle Road, my media study colleagues had heard on the radio that curfew was being declared due to 'incidents' and 'disturbances' in the city. By the time I raced to Bamba Junction, I was quite 'disturbed' indeed. And the sight along the empty stretch of the Galle Road, looking both south and northwards, was traumatic. It was the madness that I remember most (am I that schooled in 'sanity'?) I remember the denim-jeans-clad nonaas hurrying away with piled up trays of eggs from the (Tamil-owned) egg shop on Bauddhaaloka Mawatha (presumably 'rescuing' the eggs from the destructive mobs). General feeling I remember being enthusiastically offered bottles of Coca-Cola by rioting youth who had attacked the large Saiva Kadey on the Galle Road (opp. the Majestic Cinema) and, looting its stock of soft drinks, were joyously flinging them on to the restaurant facade so that they smash to bits and contribute to the general feeling of sheer destructiveness. Meanwhile, the thousands of office workers, stranded commuters and sundry citizens were hurrying along the sidewalks (past the looters) as they trudged home to beat the curfew. Minus any public or private transport, they were trudging through streets of fire with buildings on both sides aflame, yellow fire and black smoke arching over the Galle Road as far one could see in a nightmarish tunnel of darkness and death. The rioters were happily offering these fleeing citizens bottles of soft drink not for quenching their thirst but to join in the act of destruction by smashing the bottles on the (Tamil-owned) building. In fact, recalling to mind those vivid impressions, I am struck by the parallel of Vesak and Poson drinks Dan Sal where the thousands of trudging sight-seers are offered free soft drinks as part of the practise of mettha on these holy days. In terms of the use of the bottles of drink, the offerings on that Black July day were totally different from the Dan Sal of a couple of months earlier during those Buddhist holy days. In terms of the intentions of those offering and as well as of those accepting or rejecting, however, there are critical continuities between the actions during the July pogrom and the practice of dan sal during Vesak and Poson. Ethnic community The continuity is to do with the practice of community both religious and political. In Sri Lanka, ethnic community identity, on which the dominant nationalism is based, is a combination of religion and language. Hence, the construction of the Sri Lankan polity, the post-Independence nation-state, relied heavily on a social mobilisation in which the 'nationhood' was not only defined in religio-linguistic terms but also with an ethno-centric twist. Thus, participation in the Sri Lanka political community was (and is) dependent on one's ethnic (religio-linguistic) origin. That was what Sri Lankans learnt in the school textbooks for decades (and yet generally do so) as we, in our media and school curricula study project, were discovering at the time. That was what we, Sri Lankans, insisted on generally, in our public political discourse and in our media and entertainment. And, of course, it is the religious practice, in which language plays a critical social-communicational and personal-inspirational role, that is held up as the foundational-practise from which the ethno-political practise arises, as it were. Participation in Vesak sight-seeing and worship is a mass event in which the individual is drawn into a community identity by means of certain mass practices. In so much as it is a public event, such participation is a public demonstration; by the individual of her/his 'belonging' or social identification. When the nature of the polity and political privilege is defined by ethnicity, then that social identification becomes a vital political identification as well. During Vesak (and Poson; just as in Christmas or other similar religious festival that have socio-political bearings), the mass worship is combined with a mass festivity in sight-seeing and in the enjoyment of mass participation in the sigh-seeing (Vesak baleema). Part of this enjoyment is the mass feasting which takes place in, and through, the dan, sal. Religious festival The dan sal are a site of joyous giving and social sharing of the bounty of life for the purpose of living (for refreshment, dining). It is very much a sharing among the Buddhist Sinhalas and, thereby, important moments in 'national-communal' life that celebrate ethnic identity and community. Given the fact that the governance and public life of the Sri Lankan nation-state are predicated on the political-social dominance of the Buddhist-Sinhala community, such festive moments and instances of mass action must been seen as affirmations of and sacralisation of those identities and that dominance. The necessary social boundaries of these sites, of course, are religious and, ultimately, linguistic. In the first place, Tamil Buddhists are almost unknown, and even if such Tamil Buddhists, or even any non-Buddhists who go sight-seeing during Vesak, do visit a dan sala, they would be uncomfortable if they did not know Sinhala. While the Buddhist-Sinhalese would certainly very happily host them, the non-Sinhala partakers of the food/drink would yet feel 'different' because of the language barrier. In fact, the very extra hospitality (to especially welcome them as 'guests' or amuththo) by the inevitably Sinhala dan sal hosts would also add to the visitors sense of 'not-belonging' and, to that degree, non-participation in this religious festival. Vesak, in Sri Lanka, is fundamentally and essentially a Sinhala-Buddhist festival and the authenticity of participation is ethnically defined. If Vesak, then, is a form of mass action affirming ethnic identity that has a very non-violent, nay loving and charitable character, there are other forms of mass action that affirm ethnic identity that are not non-violent and could be savagely uncharitable. Vesak and those other Buddhist festivals have always, in our post-colonial nationhood, been mass action that, while being essentially exclusive, has a strong element of social outreach and inclusivity. Those 'other forms' of mass action demonstrate the sad opposite. The July '83 pogrom is the worst episode of those other mass actions by the Sinhalas that are not only exclusive to the extreme but are also destructively hostile to the ethnic Other. If Vesak and other similar Buddhist festivals with mass public behaviour, then, are a benevolent manifestation of Sinhala-Buddhist nationhood and nationalism, the anti-Tamil and anti-Muslim pogroms are a malevolent manifestation. Thus, on that awful Monday, the 25 of July 1983, the offer of bottles of drinks to passers-by was indeed an invitation to participate in mass action. It was a mass action that was wholly destructive in intent and result. Political affiliation In fact those middle class women who rescued that stock of eggs at Bamba were quite out of synch with the mood of much of the rioters. I personally knew Sinhalas (working class men/youth with no political affiliation whatsoever) who participated and even initiated attacks on Tamil people and, more so, on Tamil-owned property, who were infuriated by any failure to destroy. I remember some of them, in the days following, being critical of the events, not in the way I was, but in an opposite way. Those who looted Tamil-owned property were 'traitors' who were spoiling the image and the very Being of the Sinhalas, they argued. For them the attacks were for the destruction of Tamil identity and Tamil presence within the Sinhala polity and Sinhala Land (desha=geo-physical space). It was a necessary cleansing action that, thereby constructed a 'purer' Sinhala polity, identity and geo-physical space. Those looters who attempted to possess Tamil property (I knew such urban ghetto youth as well) were, by that action, polluting their Sinhala identity and, thereby, the collective Sinhala identity. Thus, it was not surprising when, a year later, in our survey of high school students to ascertain the impact of the ethnically-biased school textbooks, we found that many Sinhala students referred to the events of July '83 as the 'Jaathi-aalaya'. They understood it as an action of love (aalaya) and not as a destructive action. It was an action of love of nation in their ideal of Sinhala-Buddhist nationhood. Violent response That is because the ideology that motivates such ethnic cleansing pogroms are, themselves of creative intent in terms of re-affirming the purity of identity: in the Sri Lankan case of the purity of the Sinhala-Buddhist polity and society (the Dharma Dveepa). The ethnic Other that is being destroyed (erased) is the one that has been identified as the threat to existence of the ethnic Self. That is why, to those who look at July '83 as 'the jaathi-aalaya, that episode began not with the attacks on Tamils but with the attack by Tamils on Sinhala soldiers in which those iconic 'thirteen soldiers' were killed. The subsequent actions of the Sinhalas, according to this perspective, were those of a violent response to violence by the Tamils. July '83, to them was, and is, a defensive action to ensure the survival of 'the race' by eliminating the biggest threat to that survival. I believe, however, that actual experience interacts with consciousness and that political identity, in terms of collective consciousness, can change, following the change in experience. The experience of successful political domination at that time enabled the prevalence of an ethno-centric and ethno-supremacist mass consciousness among the Sinhalas, especially the Buddhist Sinhalas. This sense of domination also meant a crippling presumption about State omnipotence which, in turn, severely undermined the sophistication of the counter-insurgeny strategy of the Sri Lankan State. Today, twenty years of an experience of a successful military resistance by the Tamil community's 'armed leadership' (to quote President Chandrika Kumaratunga speaking to the media in the flush of her election as Prime Minister), has seen the radical undermining of the hegemonic consciousness. Sinhala supremacist projects and militarist agendas no longer inspire mass support. Festivities of destruction-construction have reaped their awful results. In attempting to construct such extreme exclusivity, the Sinhalas have, themselves suffered extreme destruction and deprivation. Deprivation of equal nationhood, of shared sovereignty to the Tamils has resulted in the deprivation of a comfortable, stable, and secure nationhood to the Sinhalas. Now, the exhaustion of war and the failure of hegemonism is already re-defining the norms of Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism. Awareness of the need for shared sovereignty and ethnic plurality and a different sense ownership of this island is, hopefully emerging, especially among the younger generations who have not known the 'fun' of the July '83 kind of jaathi-aalaya, but have had to suffer the horrors of the subsequent counter-jaath-aalaya of the Tamil insurgency. It is this new national outlook that must energise the on-going peace effort. The re-defining of nationalism must be manifested in the re-defining of nationhood itself. The definitions of Sinhala civilisation, then, must return to those other forms of social practice and collective action that manifest a different outcome: that outcome of joy and inclusivity still manifest in the Vesak, Poson and other Buddhist festivals. Sheer numbers of population means that the Buddhist civilisation is the most influential in our island society. Its recovery is crucial for the post-colonial recovery of our larger Sri Lankan civilisation. The dan sal are a vital ingredient of Sri Lankan life. The bottles of soft drink are meant to be drunk not smashed on shop facades. |
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