Would you like to be the rain?

[It's three years after LTTE terrorism was vanquished in Sri Lanka and it's that long a time of reflecting that issues like poverty, corruption, terms of exchange skewed against the farmer etc continue to plague vast swathes of society.  There are struggles that have not ended. Collectives yet to be forged. This was written a couple of years ago.  It is as good a time as any to return and reflect on that which needs to be done, and more importantly the 'how' of doing what is necessary, and of course the 'why']

Nanda Malini’s ‘Pawana’ ('Wind') was dated.  For the most part.  It was a period-relevant album.  It swept across the smouldering hearts of some sections of the Sri Lankan youth in the late eighties.  That album was a rough cut and deliberately so.  It was irresponsible in a way because Nanda Malini and her lyricists ought to have known better the kinds of heart and minds that would embrace the songs and in what way. 

There is a reason why the songs in ‘Shravanaaradhana’ (Invitation to listen), ‘Yathra’ (Vessels) and ‘Sathyaye Geethaya’ (The Song of Truth) are remembered and those in ‘Pawana’ are not.  The other day quite by chance I ‘caught’ one song from the album while I was flipping radio stations.  ‘Vahinnata hekinam’ (If I could rain..).  I thought back on ‘Pawana’ and found that there was only one other song that I remembered: ‘Sanda Eliya Gangak Wee’ (Moonlight like a river..).  I felt these two songs compensated adequately for the rest of the collection. 

‘Pawana’ was a call to action.  It was not a lyrical appeal but an unadulterated command with a threat, ‘if you are not with me, you are with them; if you don’t act, you are complicit’.  It was not spelled out in those terms, but that’s how it was read by its principal interpreters and those who popularized the album.  ‘Vahinnata hekinam’ was different though.

I thought and thought about ‘revolutionary’ songs, the literature that brings people to politics and about the literature that politics direct them towards.  I am sure everyone has his/her favourite ‘Radical Song’, that radicalizing score and verse which invariably bring smile and even tear upon recollection whilst spending the cynical years.  I am not sure what came first, literature or politics, but they sure did and do feel one another.  I remembered Gunadasa Kapuge’s ‘Sabanda api kandu novemu’ (Friend, let us not be like mountains).   

Both these songs were not about the how of political action. They were about why.  They championed a way of being, spoke of choice and recommended in an unobtrusive manner.  It was so gentle that the message just seeped through skin and was deposited in the tender marrow of sensibility, not for a day or year, not for that shining hour of sacrifice, glory and poetic commemoration, but for the day-in-day-out of lifetime and beyond. 

Why be like mountains trying to outreach each other, when we can be like a family of clear springs flowing into one large river, Kapuge asks.  Why be like a nightmare that disturbs a child’s sleep when you can be a song that awakens a nation from a deep slumber, he asks again.  Let us not be like the insane flame that sets fire to the thicket, but be like the soft rain that falls upon and douses such fires, he recommends.

Nanda Malini’s ‘Wahinnata hekinam’ echoes the same sentiments: ‘If only I could rain from above drought-scorched terrain, if only I could cook like a pot of rice in a hut where rice is not getting cooked!’

Looking back, it is clear we had a choice and we as a generation and a society of challengers and defenders, and all those who were caught in the clash of weaponry because they were born in the wrong decade or found themselves at the wrong place suffered to the tune of 60,000 deaths.  That was not a time of soft rain falling, but one of rain forest youth being cut down and burnt; not a time of rice-cooking but frying alive of hope and dream. 

Through it all, I cannot help feeling, that a cart was put before a horse; that literature was approached through politics and therefore only its ‘purely political’ message was extracted and its larger call for recognition and exploration of humanity was missed or ignored or both. 

I remember a medical student from Peradeniya.  He was not inclined to engage in politics. He played chess. He was a voracious consumer of literature, English, Sinhala and translations of books published in the Soviet Union. He loved all kinds of music.  He cultivated a taste for classical music.  He was caught in the fires of the late eighties.  The political visited his heart and left him without a choice.  He became an activist and an organizer. He was in charge of a sector. Not a single person under him was arrested because he assigned only such tasks that fell within that person’s capacities and political readiness.  As a result he had to take greater risks.  He was arrested. Beaten. Fortunately this happened before mis-directed ill-winds turned smouldering coals into raging fires.  He was released. He left Sri Lanka. He is not a well-established surgeon.  I think it all happened this way and not any other because he came to politics through art and not the other way about. 

He was, sadly, the exception.  The ‘rule’ was his polar opposite.  At some point, in the rush of blood and power, the intersection of righteous objection and political necessity, the dissolve of courage and conviction, the encounter of self with mirror, there must have been too many mismatches, an overdose of delusion and of course the reality of encountering forces beyond one’s strength to overcome or resist. 

These songs were powerful.  Tender.  I am not sure if we really caressed their substance.  Time passes. Those who were young grow old.  Some become cynical, some remain fresh.  We all realize that things change.  Slowly.  We cannot force those who come afterwards to learn from our errors.  We can only hope. 

I think every individual has to figure out what’s best for him/her and needs to locate him/herself in a larger collective and inquire into and understand the dimensions of that larger entity within him/herself.  I can speak for myself, that’s all.  Right now, I am thinking of literature. People. Collectives. Two songs play in my heart: ‘Sabanda api kandu novemu’ and ‘Wahinnata hekinam’.  I return again to something I wrote 6 years ago. 

I am convinced that the revolution begins with poetry and that it ends with the abandonment of love.  I say, therefore, ‘let there be rain, a soft drizzle; let it fall on barren, drought-ridden territories and let it be me.’

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On the inclusivity-clause of historiography

The word in the street is that the former Army Commander, Sarath Fonseka will be released, not 'someday' but within the next few days.  In February this year, I wrote about the man in the context of history-writing.  That note included some comments about his politics, his personality and the world of political machinations he stepped into without any preparation whatsoever.  I believe it warrants a re-read.

Dr. Udaya Meddegama, Sinhala Department, University of Peradeniya, once wrote a poem about the Mahawamsa, clearly the most comprehensive account of what happened in this island.  Those who vilify it cannot counter it with any other account written with scholarly rigor that can match it and flounder in a sad process of myth modeling, extensive cross-quoting and other cheap propaganda devices wrapped as historical account. 

They claim it was written by ‘racist Buddhist monks’. The breadth and depth of the tract is such that it would warrant an entire Department or even School (like those in India dedicated to the study of the Mahabharatha and Ramayana), but Sri Lanka lacks historians and people with academic vision.  Vilification is easier.  Such people would be humbled if they read the meticulously researched commentaries of Kuliyapitiye Prananda. 

Meddegama observes: the ‘Sinhala’ race was fathered by the ruffian son of a patricidal and incestuous father whose mother’s sexual fascination was bestiality.  Some start to a ‘racist’ account written by a chauvinist.  The Mahawamsa, then, is an unforgiving narrative. 

History’s players are never one dimensional; the chronicler should not be swayed by great deed to footnote or erase blemish; not in hero and not in usurper.  If history is indeed written by the winners for the glorification of winners, then the Mahawamsa is quite a poor account. 

The above preamble was provoked by the second anniversary of former Army Commander Sarath Fonseka’s arrest and talk of updating the chronicle to include that which came after and especially the struggle to free the nation from terrorism.  History will remember and forget and the particular mix of the two is never predictable.  Key facts, however, can and must be recorded.

Fonseka played an historic role. Fonseka, thereafter, lost it.  He was hero, undoubtedly, and he was villain too. Undoubtedly.  The villainy dilutes heroism but rigorous chronicling is unmoved by such things.

The man’s ambition, inflated self-worth, political naiveté etc., and a now proven inability to operate in unfamiliar terrain cost him dearly.  His mean-spiritedness, treacherous and irresponsible ways don’t exactly make him paintable in heroic colours alone. 

He did not win it all single-handedly, but he was key enough to warrant special mention, as much as the Navy and Air Force Commanders, the Defence Secretary, the political leadership of President Mahinda Rajapaksa and those who stoutly resisted all efforts to derail the drive on the diplomatic front did.  Perhaps less, all things considered, but certainly not more. 

He has immense spoiler-potential as I have argued: ‘He has been flip-flopping so much about the white-flags story that no government tasked with safeguarding a nation’s sovereignty can afford to risk mouth-shooting from Fonseka; not because truth should be suppressed, but because he cannot be trusted to be honest.  He can lie in order to exact revenge for perceived wrongs and has proved he is not above putting vengeance above nation.  And he’s not Private Fonseka, he’s the former Army Commander.  Even a lie from a mouth that big can have disastrous consequence for nation and citizen.’  (Daily Mirror, October 20, 2010).

I also stated the following: ‘All this is irrelevant when placed in the context of the overall framework of the law.  Laws should not be broken or twisted and principles should not be selectively applied even in the best interest of the country because it creates bad precedent.  Regardless of the ‘necessity’ element, there is clear ill-will in the execution of proceedings against Fonseka and it does not matter whether the man intended to slaughter the Rajapaksas and their friends within 24 hours of being elected President (if that had happened of course).’

We are talking history here though, not law.  There were many others who erred and in far more serious ways.  Vinayagamoorthy Muralitharan aka ‘Colonel Karuna’ for example.  There is a time to fight and a time to forgive, forget and move on, but even these things are irrelevant to the spirit of the law.  ‘Karuna’ is officially a ‘good boy’ now; Fonseka is officially a ‘bad boy’.  But history, when it is recorded, must mention both good and bad.  Either way, both warrant mention, for happy and unhappy reasons.  Write them out, or write them partially, and the error will amount to misinforming generations yet unborn.  It may not matter, but it could. That is the danger. 

A story is not story enough when key incident and key player are written out. It must include the soldier who laid down life for country, the LTTE cadre who marked the earth and memory with his or her heroism, the errant combatants, the suicide bomber, the criminals against humanity and those who marshaled forces to win back a nation, civilization and a tomorrow for our children.  In all their colours, with all the good and bad, the unforgettable and forgettable.

   

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‘Fixing’ can define dimensions of entertainment, health, sovereignty and existence

For years certain NGO personalities, academics, politicians, diplomats, journalists, political commentators and even heads of state argued that the LTTE could never be militarily defeated.  Today we know that these predictions were part conviction, part hope and part psychological operation to dent opposing view and military strategy. 

Kumar David, a well-known commentator, insisted, for instance, that the LTTE will never be crushed.  He said, at the time, that it was imperative for Marxists to hold and express this view. Many, like Paikiasothy Saravanamuttu (Centre for Policy Alternatives) and Jehan Perera (National Peace Council), launched well funded campaigns to convince people that the LTTE’s demands would have to be accommodated in some way ‘because Prabhakaran can never be defeated’.  Sudarshana Gunawardena (Rights Now) screamed ‘The government’s war balloon will burst in Killinochchi!’  Today we know who these people were batting for and why they had to read the game in a particular kind of way. 

It is hard to predict the when and how of conclusion in the case of a war that has dragged on for decades. As such, I doubt that the bookies were giving odds on outcome.  Perhaps there were bets being placed about specific things. For example, someone could have posted 4:1 odds on the Army capturing Killinochchi on or before January 2, 2009.  People betting on the matter might have considered the fact that well-known defence columnist Iqbal Athas had written on December 28, 2008 that it was virtually a toss up, that either party could emerge victorious.  The bookie would have made a killing because the said journalist has a reputation and is expected to know more about these things than the average person on the street.  It was no ‘toss-up’. It was a rout.  In the process, some balloons did burst -- those of people like David, Gunawardena, Jehan and Paikiasothy. 

People gamble all the time.  It is not a clean game. It is not ‘cricket’ (or maybe it is!).  This is why there is ‘fixing’.  For example, it is well known that the share market is negatively influenced by a terrorist attack. So, if someone had prior information of an impending terrorist attack, he/she could save a lot of bucks by selling off large chunks of his/her portfolio.  The late Dharmeratnam Sivaram (who wrote as ‘Taraki’) often knew of an LTTE attack a few hours ahead.  That knowledge could easily have been transformed into bucks if he tipped off someone who speculated in the share market.  I need not elaborate on the buck-making potential of information, especially ‘inside knowledge’ except to say that it is a short step from this place to that of getting the LTTE to set off a bomb.  Yes, we could call it ‘spot fixing’. 

It’s an old game.  Gambling artifacts have been recovered from ancient China (2300 BC), India, Egypt and Rome.  The Mahabharatha tells us that Prince Yudisthara gambled away the kingdom and much else in a game of dice.  Someone could very well have made a bunch by betting that he would stake Draupadi (the common wife of the 5 Pandava princes) if there was whispering that did not go unheard.  That would be called ‘spot fixing’ too. 

It is of course easy to speculate about these things after the fact.  Especially in cricket. There’s been so much talk about match-fixing and spot-fixing, after all.  India beat Pakistan in the second semi-final of World Cup 2011.  Did Pakistan throw the game? Was Umar Gul paid to deliver an uninspiring and indeed match-throwing spell?  Was Tendulkar paid to offer catches at 27, 45, 70 and 81?  Was he dropped because the entire Pakistan team was paid to lose (Tendulkar getting a good score would enhance the possibility of an Indian win, everyone knows)?  Did Younis, Misbah, Kamran and Umar get a bonus for dropping him?   Was Afridi in the plot, after all he persisted with Gul when he was being clobbered and didn’t show concern when one or two of his star batsmen were happily plodding away the overs?  Or was his innocence proven beyond all shadow of doubt because he left Shoaib Akhtar out of the team?  Unless someone rats, we wouldn’t know. Better to assume innocence. 

What is more important is learning from error and learning to predict events.  In other words, use science; state a hypothesis up front and put it to the test.  In cricket, for instance, given what we know and the patterns that have emerged, we could predict something like the following.

So and so will bowl Sehwag juicy, hittable leg side balls and two wides in his first three overs. So and so will produce only 10 runs in the first 30 balls he faces. So and so will bowl in a particular way in three overs at such and such a stage of the game.  Now, if this actually happens, we should flag the person and monitor his performance, the ups and downs.  If there is shady stuff happening, the lines of the pattern will get more pronounced and we then learn to predict the kind of contracts that may be given to susceptible players.

The same principle can be applied to identify people who are in the pay of corrupt corporates. We can, again based on observation over a period of time, that so and so in the Health Ministry will do or say such and such and/or support such and such a move.  We can predict that this cabinet minister will push that policy or that this senior administrator will get subtly smeared in the private 'free' media so that he is vulnerable to being removed or stops being too honest for the liking of the corrupt. This particular IGP, DIG or minister will be portrayed in this way by this particular TV station or media group, we can predict.

After watching the events in the 'Middle East' (by the way, what is ‘East’ and what is Bahrain in the middle of?) we need to see who are the agents ready to be given arms to 'rise against' any nationally oriented government in a given country. Or which party is paid to be hostile to which neighbouring country so that tension can always be maintained - ready to use when needed.

Let’s take nothing for granted.   That seems to be a good rule of thumb for the honest, responsible and patriotic citizen in these days clouded by gambling, match-fixing, spot-fixing and nation-selling

[First published in the Daily News, April 1, 2011]

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Listen to the professionals

The debate on conflict resolution and the sentiments associated with the 13^th Amendment (full implementation, the need for or otherwise of devolving land and police powers, demands for going beyond the 13^th etc) has largely been devoid of addressing some key questions. 

The 13^th Amendment was illegal.  It was thrust down Sri Lanka’s throat by the then Indian Prime Minister Rajiv Gandhi.  It was a proposal that treated myth as fact, and took inflated grievance as ‘true-dimensional’.  It was a territorial ‘solution’ to a non-territorial problem.  It ignored demographic realities. It footnoted history.  The provincial councils it spawned turned out to be white elephants.  It generated an additional set of parasitic politician and added to citizen disenfranchisement. 

Twenty five years after the 13^th Amendment was passed, it is high time its efficacy was reassessed.  It is time to correct the error.  It is time to revisit grievance and be scientific about resolution.  It is time to weed out myth and focus on fact.

It is in this context that the recent call by the Organization of Professional Associations (OPA) to abolish the 13^th Amendment should be applauded.  The OPA has pointed out that the 13^th impedes national reconciliation.  It is a distraction and one based on highly verbalized but nevertheless patently obvious fictions. 

On the other hand, the 13^th Amendment is admittedly a too-hot-to handle matter.  That’s all the more reason not to ignore it.  It calls for courage and statesmanship on the part of the President.  It calls for humility on the part of its advocates to acknowledge the pernicious politics that birthed it and its abject failure to deliver.  Since it is politically charged, it is incumbent that the error be taken apart piece by piece.  Such an exercise can only begin with a serious discussion on ‘grievances’.  It is time now for Tamil politicians to make a list and put it up for all to see, without frills.  It is time for advocates of devolution to open themselves to query on pertinent factors that rebel against devolution, such as history, demography, economic viability and probably political fallout.  

Most importantly, it is time for the Government to initiate that process of re-visitation and reflection.  It has listened to politicians and propagandists.  Listened to ill-intentioned big-name nations with dark objectives.  It would not be inappropriate to listen to the Sri Lankan professional community. For a change.  Hopefully, for the better.

[Editorial II, The Nation, May 13, 2012]

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Wanted: An independent audit commission

If you were to ask a cross section of the voting population whether they believe that elected officials fill their bank accounts through bribes, commissions, falsification of accounts and other kinds of illegal, immoral and fraudulent means, it is likely that the vast majority would respond ‘Yes, they do!’ 

For decades, the people of this country have seen exponential growth in the fortunes of the elected, regardless of their humble beginnings, righteous pledges to clean up and remain clean themselves and so on.  It has come to a point where hanky-panky is taken as a given with the citizens considering ‘taking’ as a given.  It is an ‘inevitable’ that they have resolved to live with, an ‘ok’ price to pay provided that things they want get done.

This probably explains the generally lukewarm public response to the COPE (Committee on Public Enterprises) findings. What is most significant about the revelations, then, is not the considerable evidence of mismanagement, inefficiency, corruption and downright fraud but the absence of horror on the part of the general public.  It is an apathy that props wrongdoing. 

It would be erroneous however to blame public apathy and a culture of looking askance for all the ills that plague political society.  Sri Lanka is not an anarchic political (non)arrangement.  There are laws. There are law makers and law enforcers.  There is a state and there are institutional arrangements designed to uphold justice and fair play.  Flawed, yes, but nevertheless quite some distance to go before we reach a signboard called ‘Redundant’. 

COPE findings have provided the Opposition with some debating points, but as expected, instead of strong statements to follow up with necessary action, the response from the Government side has focused on making counter-claims about wrongdoings of the UNP.  That’s just not enough. 

The scandal of the National Savings Bank purchasing The Finance shares at prices well above the going rate at the time has prompted the President to call for an investigation.  Wrongdoers must be punished of course.  Their pain should not however be alleviated by a different post in a different institution.  More importantly, steps should be taken to prevent wrongdoing.  Holes must be plugged; at all levels, in all institutions. 

All this call for the immediate constitution of an Independent Audit Commission empowered to brush aside the objections of politicians and made of individuals with high moral fibre and proven track record in things such as decency, honor, discipline and ability. 

DEW Gunasekera has worked hard. So has the rest of the COPE team.  If there is one way to reward them, it is to make bodies such as COPE meaningless. 

[from the Editorial, The Nation, May 13, 2012]

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