Aluthgama and going beyond the black and white of vilification

Ask anyone the question ‘Are you a racist?’ and the answer would be ‘no’.  You can replace racist with communalist, fundamentalist, extremist, chauvinist or any other derogatory term and you’ll get the same answer.  ‘No’.  You can ask ‘Are you arrogant, jealous, wicked, deceitful etc etc’ and you will still get ‘no’.  No one ever does anything wrong.  Act and word are generally justified to self beforehand.  Arrogance tends to trump humility.  And the world stays as it is apart from appearances and frills of the times. 

Right here in Sri Lanka, we had what are called ethnic-tensions.  That should be in the present tense.  There are also tensions between followers of different faiths. There is apprehension, fear and distrust.  And there is response to these; response to the real and imagined, histories and extrapolations.  And it’s mostly of the ‘Us vs Them’ kind.  More precisely it’s mostly ‘We are the victims, they are the aggressors’. 

A few weeks ago, when ‘Aluthgama’ happened, there was not just condemnation of the Bodu Bala Sena, but a tagging of all Buddhists to exercises of censure.  There was absolutely no mention of Welipenna where Muslims attacked a Buddha statue and houses and establishments owned by Buddhists.  There was footage of Buddhists ‘on the rampage’ but carefully edited out was footage of Muslim youth throwing stones from the roof of a building.  No one asked the question, ‘how did stones get there?’  The fact is that there was premeditation on both sides, perhaps out of fear, but that’s a different story.  The story is that there were stories and people chose what to pick and what to ignore. 

The Buddhist response, if you want to call it that, was similar.  Pick and choose is the name of the game.  Footage of Welipenna and weeping Buddhist women, but none of the Muslim shops and houses attacked or the associated lamentations; footage of stone-throwing Muslim youth, but not of attack-mode Buddhists. 

It was all overshadowed by ‘Gaza’.  The condemnation of Israel was absolute.  Very few Muslims criticized Hamas.  There’s no question about it, the Israeli ‘response’ (bad word because it presumes innocence and victimhood and edits out known aggression on the part of Israel) is genocidal in intent and product.  What’s interesting is that even those who footnoted Hamas remained absolutely silent on Muslim-Muslim violence. 

Ali A Rizvi, in an article published in www.huffingtonpost.com titled ‘7 Things to Consider Before Choosing Sides in the Middle East Conflict,’ gives us some sobering facts.

‘Bashar al-Assad has killed over 180,000 Syrians, mostly Muslim, in two years -- more than the number killed in Palestine in two decades. Thousands of Muslims in Iraq and Syria have been killed by ISIS in the last two months. Tens of thousands have been killed by the Taliban. Half a million black Muslims were killed by Arab Muslims in Sudan. The list goes on.  But Gaza makes Muslims around the world, both Sunni and Shia, speak up in a way they never do otherwise. Up-to-date death counts and horrific pictures of the mangled corpses of Gazan children flood their social media timelines every day.’

Ali asks some pertinent questions: ‘If it was just about the numbers, wouldn’t the other conflicts take precedence? What is it about then?’

The anger of Muslims regarding Israeli aggression is understandable.  That anger and solidarity with Palestinians in Gaza even prompted some people to commend the unity of Muslims.  Ali’s piece shows that underneath anti-Israeli sentiment are deep fissures.  If the harm done to others in the community prompts umbrage, though, what can explain the near total silence on Muslim aggression against Muslims?  Is it something on the following lines: ‘outsiders need not worry about matters within the family’?  But is there any debate within ‘the family’? 

On the other side, we see Israel’s allies, especially the USA and Britain showing utter disregard for the atrocities committed by Israel.  The support has been absolute.  Scandalous would be a kind word in this context especially since these countries are self-proclaimed champions of human rights. 

What is the logic of this black-white logic?  It is an inevitable outcome of a preference for Cartesian logic?  Well, from that point to sweeping statement and castigating of collectives for the perceived crimes of a few is a very short distance.

Not too long ago, Prageeth Ekneligoda (‘disappeared’ they say), came up with a powerful cartoon.  Now Prageeth is powerful when he uses lines, although his commentary borders on pornography and his political practice (sending human ash to perceived enemies) even laughable.  But take a look at the caricature he offers. There’s a Buddhist bikkhu being ‘creative’ with the dharmachakra, subtly turning it into the Swastika, the sign that has come to represent fascism.  So all of a sudden we are not talking of some fringe group but the entire Buddhist order.  That’s offensive.  Avantha Attygalle, another brilliant cartoonist also does himself much disservice by playing with iconography in similarly careless, crass and sweeping manner. 

When an entire collective is thus vilified, one has to expect the majority to be offended.  But strangely, in Sri Lanka, Buddhists are supposed to ‘grin and bear’ because Buddhism after all is about non-attachment.  Non-Buddhists regularly preach Buddhism to Buddhists even as Buddhists are vilified.  They do not, likewise, ask Christians to turn the other cheek or direct Muslims to non-violent, compassionate and change-cheek type of content in the Quran. 

Those who share and even use Prageeth’s caricature as Facebook profile pictures do not see anything wrong in it.  Would they feel offended if their faiths are subjected to similar caricature?  History, after all, is full of blood-letting by Christians and Muslims, in the name of God, Allah, Jesus Christ and Prophet Muhammed.  US President’s bless troops thus: ‘May god bless the United States of America’.  That’s just before they are sent to kill people.  Non-Christians.  How many Christians have the United States of America killed in the past 10 years and how many non-Christians?  The ratio will tell a story.  Is it correct to paint all Muslims with ISIS colors?  Are all Muslims supporters of Hamas?  Is objection of Zionism qualification enough for the label ‘Jihadist’?  Is objection to the hate speech of Bodu Bala Sena by a Muslims good enough reason to call him/her a Jihadist? 

But would it be right to paint all Christians and Muslims as fascists?  Would Christians and Muslims be offended? 

There are questions we don’t like to hear and are very reluctant to answer, aren’t there?  But if we looked deep enough within and in the doctrines we’ve chosen to guide us, there’s ample content to provoke self-appraisal, inculcate patience and see self in enemy and vice versa.  The problem is that it’s hard work.   Caricature is far easier.  Mobs are attractive.  Safety in numbers, unfortunately, also amounts to offering blank checks to the movers and shakers of number-aggregates and they typically are black-white creatures who perceive any self-criticism as ill-affordable weakness. 

These are mob days.  Collective days. Days of arrogance.  These are days of treating Cartesian frames of logic to be superior to anything else, never mind the fact that they are full of holes and have functioned as justifiers and approvers of all kinds of crimes against humanity. 

Debating is easy because debating points are cheap.  It gives ego a fillip.  Neither cause nor the greater good of humanity gets a boost, in the long run.  If we stop to think about it, that is. 

‘Hate speech’ is an easily tossed around term these days.  It’s something ‘others’ do, everyone thinks.  There’s a reason why there’s at least that kind of ‘agreement’.  Human sloth.  Identity-fascination.  Chauvinism, disguised and undisguised.  We could do better but have not.  And that’s something to worry about. 

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There’s a way to fix spot-fixers, match-fixers and nation-fixers

I believe that it is possible to argue that anyone and everyone are in the pay of some dreadful creature, organization or political force.  This is why some otherwise intelligent and even likeable people in Trotskyite organizations spend more time calling each other ‘running dogs of imperialism’ than doing anything about imperialism.  Ralph Nader, US presidential candidate from the Green Party, for example, is blamed by Democrats for helping  Republican win the Presidency (‘Nader broker the anti-Bush vote!’ they claim.  Well, it is not as though the Democrats themselves are any different from the Republicans.  Check out what Obama has done, is doing and plans to do in Iraq and Afghanistan for example. 

The point is, there is a way in which anyone who does not hold your views can be made out to be an absolute villain.  By the same token anyone can defend what he/she does and even claim that the worst crimes against humanity were actually strategized to benefit all humankind and indeed that such objectives were in fact achieved. 

Talk is talk, though.  Claims can be made.  They can be made believable too.  In the end, however, ‘belief’ comes down to an individual assessing available information and arriving at conclusion.  The problem is that we never have access to all the information that’s out there so that we can make a decent enough judgment.  We got to make do with limited facts, less than perfect analytical skills and navigate a maze of lies, decoys, half-truths and advertisements blinded by spectacle as well as misleading and concealing drabness.  We have to factor in the reality that yesterday’s trusted comrade-at-arms is today’s flake and tomorrow’s enemy.  We have to understand that the forces arrayed against are not just numerous and powerful, but have great purchasing power and are often endowed with that potent weapon called ‘lack of conscience’. 

It is a tough world out there.  We can’t win all the time. Indeed, we would be lucky to score one or two victories over a single lifetime.  The least we can do, in many situations, is to ensure that the chances of being taken for a ride are minimized.  This is not easy since unsteady information foundations don’t make for decent enough extrapolation and can even produce nothing more than flights of fancy.  How do we do this?

A friend of mine wrote to me this morning, ‘The best preventive to taking off on flights of fancy is I guess to make predictions instead of explaining events after they occur. When we see suspicious signs we should predict outcomes and check whether we are consistently right or wrong or just getting random success.’ By way of explaining, he used cricket and the match-fixing controversy.  

He opines: ‘I have the impression that when Sri Lanka fails spectacularly in a match there is a (coincidental?) juxtaposition, namely, Sangakkara and Mahela both do badly, and Ajantha Mendis and Lasith Malinga (if they are both playing) bowl waywardly.  Dilhara Fernando is generally a member of losing teams.  Haven’t checked this with great care but I have a memory of something like this occurring frequently.’ 

The stats buffs out there can check this out I am sure.  There’s only so much room one can make for ‘coincidences’.  If there’s a pattern, then we are immediately alerted.  It is very subtle of course and one has to be nuanced in ones assessment for this very reason.  It is not easy to read body language, but it is not impossible to assume, for instance, that someone in the pay of a bookie would react in a particular kind of way as opposed to someone who is genuine.  Not everyone can wear a disguise well.  There are slips.  Wigs come off, the make up melts and the true contours of conscience and guilt surface at unexpected moments in unexpected ways.  

The more we see, the more we learn.  After some time, we discover patterns.  It is no different from tracking terrorists.   You have to be alert.  You have to use all resources at your disposal.  These is the age of surveillance.  People get caught.  These are days of plea bargaining.  Today’s benefactor could very well be the guy who rats on your tomorrow.  There are lots of third umpires out there.  Think Hansie Cronje. Imagine him alive today.  He is scarred.  In life. In death. 

My friend also observes that while inconsistency is not a crime, consistent inconsistency is.  He points to Tendulkar, Sehwag, Bevan and Imran as those who by sheer power of consistency stump match-fixing allegations.  On the other hand, even such a performer can get away with a bit of ‘spot-fixing’ or the play of a cricketing moment.   

We have to be alert.  We have to watch faces. Behaviour patters. Subtle changes in these.  A noticeable shift in preference of company and recreational choice.  Noticeable silences.  Sudden changes of fortune.  Property acquisition that is hard to account for given known sources of income.  Investments in shady operations (scams such as the ones run by Golden Key and Sakvithi were essentially about money-laundering).  Inability to look you in the eye the way you were looked in the eye before. 

 

Crooks slip.  When and where we cannot tell.  If we can make them slip, all the better.  Vigilance is the most effective tripper or kakul maattuwa.  It might seem unfair to subject our cricketing heroes to this kind of surveillance, but then again, this is an unforgiving world where professionalism ought to include an unwavering resolve to play the game right.  Spot-fixing is certainly good money but it is not as though today’s cricketers are destitute! 

Prediction helps. We have general idea about skill levels. We all have memory. We know what was said, where and when.  We can tell when tongues bend to shine different ‘truths’. 

My friend offers a prediction: ‘We will do pretty well in the world cup or other matches that we are to face soon. Reason: players will know that they are being watched with some suspicion after the various allegations and will do their best and be really unlikely to throw. And if our team genuinely does its best, we should beat any other around these days.’  Let’s see.

I want Sri Lanka to win the next World Cup.  I also want to make sure that some two-bit traitor is not bartering our national assets for a song or poisoning our paddy fields for a few dollars and a couple of holidays or fattening a bank account to help the tobacco industry.  Things like that. 

*This was first published in the Daily News, September 15, 2010

msenevira@gmail.com

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The UNP and the joys of the ‘warm-up’

On Saturday, September 12, 2009, Sri Lanka beat India by 139 in a day-night ODI cricket match at the R.Premadasa Stadium.  Spectacular batting performances by Sanath Jayasuriya (98) and Thilina Kandamby (91 not out), followed by an amazing spell by Angelo Matthews (6 for 20 off 6 overs) and neat work behind the stumps by Kumar Sangakkara (4 spectacular catches) elicited the following observation from Indian captain, M.S. Dhoni:

"It was the worst day for us. We didn't start well neither in bowling nor in batting. The Sri Lankans started very well. Sanath (Jayasuriya) along with Dilshan gave them the perfect start with the bat and then Angelo Mathews came good with the ball."

The most pertinent sum-up was this, however: “The only thing that went well for us was the warm-up before the game.”

The Indian captain’s telling sum-up was right on the money and even the most ardent fan of Indian cricket would not disagree, I am sure.  I had already forgotten the comment but was reminded of it on Monday morning when I read in the newspapers that the UNP’s General Secretary, Tissa Attanayake, had vowed to topple the Rajapaksa government within three months. 

Politicians are full of promises, this is generally known.  Tissa, to his credit, had inserted a caveat to cover possible embarrassment later: ‘this would depend on a UNP victory at the forthcoming elections to the Southern Provincial Council’.  That’s like a bank saying ‘We will give all account-holders Rs. 100,000 regardless of the value of their accounts or status on loan repayment, PROVIDED that the Government does away with taxation.’  It would be like the USA saying ‘we will cease all operations at Guantanamo Bay and return the island to its legitimate owner, Cuba, PROVIDED that we find evidence of water on the sun’.  In short, it is a safe prediction. 

The nice thing about the UNP and elections (going by the track record of that party since 2004) is the run-up, the campaign. At least in a relative sense. The aftermath has been pretty dismal; defeat, defeatism, call for the leader to resign, internal strife and a smothering of dissent by Ranil Wickremesinghe, swatting one and all with the party constitution.

The warm-up, then, goes well.  Lofty ideals are spelled out. Ambitious predictions are mouthed at every turn. Grand pronouncements are made about the great future that awaits the voters in the event that the UNP wins (‘you will all be crowned kings’).  The promise-balloon, the prediction-bubble and other air-filled things get pricked, deflated, on election-day.  Nothing clicks. 

To begin with, the UNP is on the backfoot, as all opposition parties tend to be given the realities of the 1978 constitution and a general climate of apathy on the part of the public.  In addition, the UNP has, especially under Ranil Wickremesinghe, developed a penchant to go fishing at deliveries that pitch off a good length and leave the batsman, resulting in snicks that are gleefully gobbled up behind the stumps.  Faulty stroke play has been the bane of that party in recent times. In political parlance what we have seen in a remarkable ability on the part of the party leadership to say the wrong thing at the wrong time at the wrong place. 

When Zimbabwe or a non-Test-playing nation takes on Australia, everyone knows the result before hand.  Excellent bowling will always find the best batsmen of these countries struggling.  Skilled batsmen will take apart the best bowlers of such teams.  This is expected. It is one thing to be castled by a peach of a delivery and quite another to get out to a scandalously careless stroke or to get run out.  It is one thing to be hit for six by Sanath Jayasuriya because you gave him that extra one inch of space outside the off stump and quite another to offer him a full toss on the leg side.  There is no dishonour in the former; the latter is unpardonable. 

This is the problem of the UNP.  The popularity of the President, the euphoria of the defeat of the LTTE and the anomalies embedded in the constitution that work against the opposition are realities that the UNP can’t do much about.  There is no reason to self-destruct though. 

There is a reason why the UNP can only enjoy the ‘warm-up’.  India can and will bounce back.  Sooner or later.  The reason is that there is a willingness to engage in self-criticism and correct flaws.  Not so the UNP. 

In a sense, then, Tissa Attanayake is doing his best: enjoying the warm-up.  If the UNP is happy with that consolation prize, that says a lot about the direction that party is heading, election-wise: nowhere.   

*First published in September 2009.  Almost 5 years later, with 'Uva' beckoning, will things be any different? 

msenevira@gmail.com.

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Ali Hafidh doesn’t know that today is a Thursday

This is not Ali Hafidh.  It is a child who by any other name would have not been less innocent.

When September 16 dawned in the year 1997, Ali Hafidh did not know any thing about dates.  Or months. He did not know that it was a Tuesday or indeed what the word ‘Tuesday’ meant. He was just 1 year old then.  Ali Hafidh does not know that today (when you would be reading this), another September 16^th, i.e. of the year 2010, is a Thursday.  The meaning of the word ‘Thursday’ does not matter to him. Not any more.

Ali Hafidh died on September 16, 2007. He was 10 years old.  He was killed.  Ali Hafidh was killed by private security guards attached to an outfit called Blackwater USA, a contracted security service, who were escorting a US diplomat at the time.  He was killed in Baghdad.  Blackwater security personnel opened fire on a group of civilians that day, killing 17 including a little boy called Ali. 

Blackwater has been involved in at least 195 ‘escalation-of-force’ incidents since 2005.  It is reported that between 125,000 to 180,000 foreign contractors operate at any given time in Iraq.  The civilians of that country are routinely bullied by bands of heavily armed contractors bulldozing through traffic in SUVs or armoured pickup trucks, we are told. 

Iraq, by the way, is a country that was invaded by the USA in order to search-and-destroy weapons of mass destruction.  Hundreds of thousands of bombing raids, almost a decade of military omnipresence and over a million direct or indirect deaths resulting from US aggression and not a single weapon of mass destruction found, have only confirmed yet once again that which the world has known for almost a century: THE UNITED STATES OF AMERICA IS THE MOTHER OF ALL BULLIES.

Ali Hafidh would not know what ‘bully’ means.  He may have seen what bullies do even if he didn’t think that bullying can include murder and that he was ‘target’ long before gun was pointed in his direction and bullet discharged, simply because he was an Iraqi. Brown. ‘Deadable’. 

Thirty nine days after Ali Hafidh’s life was snuffed out by a bunch of trigger-happy thugs who were in Baghdad because some mad American of the USA wanted to prove his manhood (and secure control of oil of course), his father, Mohammed Hafidh had been offered an envelope full of cash. A total od USS $ 12,500.  The offer had come from the Deputy Chief of Mission of the US Embassy in Baghdad.  Compensation.  Mohammed did not accept it.

‘I told her that I want the courts to have their say,’ he responded.  He was not alone. Haythem al-Rubaie, who lost his son and wife in the same shooting, is reported to have said that he wouldn’t even meet with the said official. 

The USA thinks it’s all about money.  Investments. Profits. Collateral. Compensation.  Everything has a price.  Everything is marketable, if there is a market.  I don’t know. I don’t think it works that way.  Mohammed Hafidh doesn’t think so either. Neither does Haythem al-Rubaie.  And millions of others. 

Money does matter.  Not in instances such as this though.  Ali would not have understood ‘money’.  He wouldn’t have been able to describe the length and breadth of guilt and sin in US $ 12,500.  The Deputy Chief of Mission represented a country that goes around issuing grave notices about democracy, fair play, human rights and what not when in fact it is the worst offender around, whose foreign policy when un-frocked of rhetoric is nothing more nothing less than ‘guns-in booty-out’. 

Ali Hafidh would have known what night was and what day was, the difference between sun and shade, milk and water, food and hunger. Days of the week? I am not sure. It doesn’t matter. 

The Deputy Chief of Mission of the US Embassy in Baghdad at the time would have known a lot more but was clearly clueless when it came to assessing the value of a human life. 

That lady knows that today is the 16^th day of September. That we are in the year 2010.  She knows that the 16^th of September falls on a Thursday this year.  She might not remember a boy called Ali Hafidh, whose life and death she insulted by tagging them with a dollar-price.  I write this so she is reminded. 

Her office, these days, is in Kollupitiya. Be wary of her. Be very wary of her. She has a name.  You might have heard of her and if so there’s a reason why (and why you might not have heard of Ali Hafidh).  Her name, ladies and gentlemen, is Patricia Butenis.  May she live long.  

Postscript:  This was first published in September 2010 in the 'Daily News'.  Today, the 7th day of August 2014 is another Thursday.  Few would remember Ali Hafidh.  Patricia Butenis is no longer US Ambassador in Sri Lanka.  That's not important.  Names come and go but if policies remain then there's still enough reason to worry.  Perhaps we can ask ourselves how many more Ali Hafidhs were there, who lived and died and therefore for whom the word 'Thursday' has no meaning.  We can ask also how many Ali Hafidhs there were in Gaza, killed by Israeli soldiers who were cheered all the way by Washington.

msenevira@gmail.com

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Roses that don’t lose fragrance even 30 years later

Pic courtesy lovethesepics.com

What does a 14 year old know about love or life?  What does a 41 year old know about anything?  And do we get wiser with age?  Do we live and love better?  Well, 30 years ago a 14 year old girl wrote a love letter to an 18 year old boy.  Not the first and probably was not the last.  Those were letter writing times; no text messages, no email.  Pen on paper.  That’s it. 

‘I love you, boy.  Send me 18 yellow roses.’

Simple stuff.   The problem was that the boy was, well, a boy.  He didn’t understand the language of roses or color.  Well, we are not sure if the girl did either.  If either or both knew it might have taken the magic out of the story for yellow roses, as tradition has it, are about friendship and not love. 

But a letter with the word ‘love’ on it is most certainly a love-letter.   When roses are requested or delivered there’s meaning to the exercise, especially since we are talking about a love-letter. 

The young boy didn’t know anything about roses.  He had to seek advice from an older boy.  The advise arrived: ‘You are still in school.  Roses are expensive. Yellow roses are very expensive.  You can’t afford it. Forget it.’

He forgot it. 

Time passed.  They walked in and out of people’s lives as people walked in and out of theirs.  Neither knew of the other’s journeys.    They may have thought about one another as people do; not planned, not with intention of renewal, but in the way best described by that says-nothing word ‘just’.   He married someone. She did too.   He divorced, she did not.  He had children, she had too.   

The boy, now man, is all about love.  He gets a lot of flak for the kind of life he leads.  Someone once chided him thus:  ‘You are married, divorced, married again.  You live alone.  You have a good job, you earn good money, but you drink, you have girlfriends.  Your life is a mess.’

So the man tells his friend:  ‘There is a boy who is a very good student and brilliant at sports, and a girl who too is a good student and is great at sports.  They come from well established families, known to each other.   They grow up, go to university, one to Harvard and one to Oxford. They return, find good jobs.  

They meet randomly, become friends.  They think that they would make a good couple but being decent and well-bred, let’s say, they don’t date, don’t do anything naughty, but go to their parents and through them discuss marriage.  They get married, have kids who, like them, study hard, get into university, get good jobs etc., etc.  They die.  Now suppose someone made a film about them, would you enjoy watching it?   Or if someone wrote their story, would you enjoy reading it?’

‘No!’

‘But you enjoy “Viragaya” don’t you?’

‘Of course!’

‘And would you like to read novels about people and things that don’t work out perfectly?’

‘Yes.’

‘Well, I am the book you want to read, the movie you would not miss.’

The boy, now man, lived alone, as we said.  He is a father but not a very present one.  He is a successful professional but one who would put aside everything for a moment of romance, a half-chance at a kind of love people write or read about but rarely experience.  And he, who had never been bothered by rose-questions or color-questions, was revisited by a few words, a color, a flower and a fragrance that will remain unnamed.  He was not looking.  She was not either.  But someone said something that triggered recall.  He wanted to see her.  She wanted to see him.  They met. 

They are no longer teenagers who know little of love.  They are middle-aged people who may very well have not picked up anything of significance on the subject over 30 years.  But they held hands.  They smiled and laughed.  And that was that.

And since that moment, his head spinning, faced by collapsing dimensions, revisited by a 14 year old girl in 44 year old skin, tormented and elated by the warmth of a handclasp which, although not the first, was a first-love caress, a 48 year old man finds that he has a 14 year old boy’s heart. 

There won’t be books written about it.  No films.  And not because this is the timeless love story.  It’s because certain people are books and films.  It’s because 18 is not a random number and neither is yellow a random color.  Roses are roses but some have unnamed fragrances.  Some call it love, some call it something else.  It does not matter, 30 years later. 

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The TNA learns a new word...

US Embassy needs to sleep

The US Embassy is upset about 'media freedom' in Sri Lanka.  Now why does anyone need media freedom? Simple: to get the truth out.  To inform.  That's what is strange about the US Embassy being upset about media freedom.  No country on this earth has been as ready to lie, deceive, twist-facts, mis-interpret, misinform and in so many other ways bury truth than the United States of America.  The US media, after all, gave us weapons of mass destruction in Iraq.  It was witness, accuser, judge and jury about who did what to which airplane.  It goes into a shell regularly when the US knowingly bombs countries into the middle ages, faithfully toeing the Washington line.  The US Embassy in Colombo needs to sleep. It needs to sleep because then alone it can wake up or be woken up.  

Ranil’s Vanguard

No, it was not to learn some Chemistry, Physics or even Political Science.  He wants tuition teachers and students attending tuition classes to help him change Sri Lankan society.   Time was when some people saw the working class as the vanguard of the revolution. Then someone came up with the Pancha Maha Balavegaya.  So now it’s tuition classes and tuition class goers? 

Supreme Court downed by petitions

The Chief Justice has excused himself from a particular case because he has received many petitions on the matter.  Now if that’s all it takes to get a judge off a case, it’s very simple.  Gahapang gahapang pessam as the Freddie Silva song goes!

Maithripala’s gender preference

Maithripala Sirisena wants all women to be born again as men.  If his wish comes true, the world will end in one generation, unless someone comes up with a way for man to unite with man and produce a child (a male, as per Maithripala’s preference).    Did he ask women what their after-life gender preference was, one wonders.

The TNA learns a new word

‘Unitary’.  This is almost revolutionary.  For years, Tamil politicians took refuge behind a clearly non-political and scandalously vague word in order to promote separatism.  They said ‘we are for a united Sri Lanka’.  Yeah, right!  You’ll never get ‘united’ as long as there are inequalities along lines of class, caste, gender, age, political affiliation etc.  You can legislate for ‘unitary’.  Actually that legislation is already in place.  So what were these people fighting for all these years?

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Nick Clegg explains a few things to a loyal voter

Pic courtesy theguardian.com

Deputy Prime Minister of Britain Nick Clegg took a break.  He decided to spend some quality time in South Yorkshire, Sheffield Hallam to be precise.  He felt safe there.  After all, Sheffield Hallam has never returned a Labour MP since 1885 and except for a brief period between 1916 and 1918 was always held by the Conservatives.  He was walking along Hallowmoor Road smiling at people he met, being quite the local politician. 

‘G’morning Nick!’  someone yelled.  It was old Mr Portersworth, retired apothecary and an old friend. 

‘Oh hello Mr Portersworth, how have you been doing?’

‘Hanging on, hanging on.  Wanted to ask you something!’

‘I am all ears!’

‘What’s all this about axing Russia as hosts of the 2018 World Cup?  Is it some left-over anguish over our World Cup performance in Brazil?  Well, under-performance that is…?’

Nick couldn’t help laughing, but he sobered up: ‘No, it’s because there’s talk that the Russians were somehow responsible for shooting down MH17 over eastern Ukraine.’

‘Talk?  You mean there’s no solid proof?’

‘Come, come Mr Portersworth, you know how things are in this day and age.  What counts is allegation, not proof.  We’ve come a long way from those innocent-until-proven-guilty days. All we have to do is blame them, not back up accusation with facts.’

‘I see. So that talk of the United States shooting down an Iranian passenger plane some years ago was also something like that?  Just an accusation?’

‘No, that was different.  The fact was established.  But a different ploy was used there.  The USA said “we will not apologize”.  That was it.  No sanctions.  No talk of boycotting this or that or denying rights to host that event or this.  All quiet on the Western front and all that kind of thing, you know?’

‘So consistency is no longer necessary?’

‘Of course not!  It’s all about power.  And of course making sure your lie is so loud that the truth gets drowned.’

‘I see.’

‘No, you don’t see the whole picture.  I went further.  I said that if we didn’t take some action, like axing Russia, we would look weak and insincere in our condemnation.’

‘But condemn what?  You said just now that you don’t have or need proof.’

‘Don’t you see?  When we use the word “condemn” we subtly imply there’s guilt.  That’s stronger than proof!’

‘So all this is because we are worried about people questioning our manhood?’

‘If you want to put it that way…yes.’

‘Wait.  Not too long ago you were saying that the invasion of Iraq was illegal.  That would imply that Britain is guilty of crimes against humanity, genocide even, right?’

‘Let’s not get confused here.  It’s a personal opinion.  I think it was illegal but you won’t catch me asking the UN to arrest Tony Blair or George W Bush.  That’s not the done thing.  If I did that the world might think we are weak and insincere.’

‘But what you just said sounds a pretty weak argument, not to mention the fact that its marked by a lot of insincerity, what?’

‘Let me ask you something Mr Portersworth.  Are you a conservative?’

‘Yes.  And I always thought conservatives were down to earth, had values, spoke the truth and so on.’

‘Well, wake up!  We were never like that.  Neither was Labour, but that’s a different matter.  It’s all about power.  It’s not about truth.  It’s not about being honourable.  It’s not about what has happened.  It’s about interpreting things to your advantage.  It’s about lying through your teeth to get what you want.’

‘Alright, I get it.  But I heard that FIFA has ruled out calls for a boycott!’

‘Don’t let me get started on FIFA those so-and-sos.  They should have worked it out so that there was a USA-UK final.’

‘With us winning, right?’

‘Of course not!  We don’t rule the waves anymore, the sun has set on the empire and we can only find meaning if we cling to the coattails of Obama’s butler.  Well, valet, shall we say?  So no, we would have made sure the USA won, kicking own-goals if we had to!’

‘I see.  Well, I need to get going.  Good days Nick, nice of you to have cleared my mind,’  Mr Portersworth said.   

[All this in a parallel universe of course...]

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Democracy is dead!

There’s a song they sing in demonstrations all over the United States of America, especially when war is protested: ‘Blowing in the wind’.  Powerful words no doubt but leaves one feeling a bit short-changed for ’Merica has struggled and struggled but failed to recapture the spirit of the sixties.  That country has let fly missiles far worse than cannon balls in all directions, spewing death and destruction in volumes and ways unthinkable in the sixties.  Forty years later, under a Black man, supposedly an intellectual of sorts, ’Merica is still doing what ’Merica knows best: bombing countries into the middle ages. They’ve stopped counting cannon balls for they’ve stopped making them, I believe. 

The sixties were made of both hope and dope in equal parts and the consumers kidded themselves into believing they were synonyms.  Dope has since left Hope far behind and, one could argue, entered into an unholy agreement of sorts with ‘cannonballs’.  The missiles have flown and are flying and there’s no sign of them being banned.  Well, as long as they are been fired by certain people and not others. 

This is not about hope, dope, cannonballs and banning though. It is about the ditty, the ‘how many times’ part of it at least.  The song came to me a couple of days ago, i.e. the day the 18^th Amendment to the Constitution was passed in Parliament. It came to me in the form of statements regarding democracy. 

‘Democracy is dead’ some people screamed.  That’s familiar, I thought.  How many times must the cannonballs fly before they are forever banned?  How many times must democracy die before we can confirm its death? 

Democracy died (in my memory) in 1975 when Sirimavo Bandaranaike used Parliamentary numbers to extend the term of the United Front Government by two years. Democracy died in 1978 when J.R. Jayewardene’s constitution was passed in Parliament.  JRJ killed Democracy died when JRJ stripped his principal opponent, Sirimavo of her civic rights.  The dead body was dragged to Jaffna in 1981 and slaughtered on an altar called DDC elections. 

He killed it again when he held a patently undemocratic referendum in 1982 to extend the life of the Parliament by 6 years. Democracy also died when JRJ abused state resources to get re-elected in 1982.  That many-times-killed body was killed yet again the following year when he obtained undated letters of resignation from all UNP MPs in Parliament. The corpse was unearthed in 1987 July and mutilated again with the help of Rajiv Gandhi in a re-murder where Ranil Wickremesinghe presented the 13^th Amendment to the Constitution to Parliament carefully leaving out key articles of the text.  JR’s successor, Ranasinghe Premadasa didn’t seem to believe the relevant death certificate was genuine, so he riddled the dead body with some 60,000 bullets between 1988 and 1990.  The rathu sahodarayas of the JVP who ran a self-styled punchi aanduwa (small government) courtesy the galkattas and T-56 strung it up on lamp posts and indulged their own perverted needs to mutilate and insult the ‘dead’. 

Since then there have been many other democracy-dyings in Sri Lanka.  Each time something happens or is made to happen, old placards are cleaned of cobweb and waved at the media.  Black arm bands materialize.  Somber looks are taken from political wardrobes and draped on the faces of people who don’t have the moral authority to lament such deaths, themselves being accessories after the fact of murder more often than not.

The 18^th is a democracy-death, some believe. I object.  I am not cheering, no.  Neither am I given to tossing around death certificates at the drop of a hat.  There’s only one difference between the JRJ ‘moment’ of 1978 and the 18^th Amendment when it comes to power, power centralization, space for popular participation, insulation of the public from the politician (especially the Executive President) etc: theoretically, the President can remain in power beyond 12 years. In 1978 there were no ‘independent commissions’.  The 18^th Amendment effectively rendered the flawed 17^th Amendment irrelevant.  When it comes down to the day-to-day the identity of the particular president is not important. What is crucially important is the power vested in that office. It is essentially the same kind of sway that JRJ privileged himself with 1978.  So if we are talking ‘death’ here, we are talking of a corpse that’s been rotting for 32 years. 

This is why I did not know whether to laugh or cry when I got an email urging me to attend a sixties kind of protest on September 8, 2010.  It was titled ‘Light a candle for democracy; stand against the 18^th Amendment’.  I’ve stood in other ways, so I didn’t think it made sense to be at this little feel-good ceremony.  A handful of people had attended, I heard.  The most interesting question pertaining to this candle-lit romance was raised by a friend in the following way:

‘Strange that JR's vicious persecution of the Tamil population and his vile referendum, Ranil's secret CFA and Chandrika's latter day shenanigans did not move the people who will be at this 'vigil'. I expect most of them will be of the really, really posh crowd who actually applauded those previous horrendous abuses, which push this one into insignificance. So sad for this country that the UNP was allowed to abuse the public's powerlessness to such a degree that everything others do after them looks innocuous in comparison. People who were disturbed by both those UNP doings and the unseemly haste in the current episode are few - and include me (and you too I imagine). Sadly we have the JVP in the same club!’

It takes a lot to kill democracy. I mean, to really, really kill it. That’s not because people with selective memory stand up and hold candles. It is not because people play relative merits and privilege the consideration of personality over assessment of legislation related to vesting of powers.  It is because a handful of people see beyond warrior and war, personality and personal preference, party colour and politician. 

I don’t think missiles will be outlawed anytime soon. I doubt if democracy gets killed by mere pronouncement and/or lament.  Thankfully.

P.S.  The original title of this article was 'On the alleged death of democracy'.  Only the title has been changed and that's for effect.  It was first published in the Daily News, September 11, 2010.  

msenevira@gmail.com

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Re-classing the national discourse*

Pic courtesy w3lanka.com

These are days when there is a lot of talk about media rights and the freedom of expression. There is talk of resolving the alleged ‘ethnic’ conflict, about redressing minority grievances and addressing legitimate aspirations. Through the three decades of the conflict, the political upheavals, regime changes and ideological shifts, the ups and downs of the political fortunes of one community or another, one factor has received scant attention in political commentary, or else has been tainted so much with the ethnic brush of political comment to render it invisible. Class. Let me be more concrete. ‘The poor’.

Sure, we have the trade unions with their grievances, their agitation, their threats and even acts of sabotage. We have the JVP saluting old Marxist-Leninist slogans and student activists spouting venom about the capitalist class and of course Kumar David and Wickramabahu Karunaratne alluding to capitalism and its ills. All this is peripheral in the broader political discourse.

Let’s face it: we are more concerned with issues of democracy, level playing fields for communities, structures that yield better governance as more appropriate representation, more transparency and accountability. I mentioned this on two occasions to two people, Prof. Carlo Fonseka and Jayantha Seneviratne, the former a long-time member of the LSSP and the latter who made a career for a while out of marketing Chandrika’s infamous ‘political package’.

I told Prof Carlo that all the self-labelled leftists in the rush to embrace minoritarian politics and other social causes (and thereby extend the validity of the ‘leftist’ tag) had happily abandoned ‘class’ but that I still critique capitalism (even though these leftists call me all kinds of nasty names such as ‘Sinhala Buddhist chauvinist’, ‘extremist’ and ‘war monger’). Prof. Carlo smiled and said, ‘yes, and I appreciate’.

Jayantha, when I put it to him that the leftists are operating as though class does not matter, said ‘it doesn’t’.

Doesn’t it though? Ranil Wickremesinghe has said that there is no king, but that under a UNP government everyone would be king. Silly. Kings are kings because there are subjects. The rich are rich because the poor exist. And vice versa of course. The same goes for the powerful and the powerless. Even in the neo-liberal formulations there is ‘labour’ (they fight shy of using ‘class’). I have myself tended to footnote the class factor in my commentaries and I now admit that while a certain privileging of issues is inevitable this does not justify the neglect of a factor as important as ‘class distinction’.

I was alerted to this when I received an email from Amsterdam a little over a month ago. My friend underlined the class-thread that is distinct (though ignored) in the overall fabric called social process. He cited a couple of examples.  

"The common struggle for citizenship rights and dignity for all will help everyone especially the poor. As it is, the notion of citizenship rights in Lanka is a joke. The police torture suspects if they are poor, Sinhala or Tamil. The first falsely accused torture victim I encountered was a slum Tamil Catholic girl. The accusers were rich well connected Sinhalese Catholics. The IP (crimes) who arrested her was a Muslim. His fellow-torturer was Sinhala Buddhist sergeant. In my second big case the victim was a 30 year old Buddhist woman illegally arrested kept overnight and tortured by pushing a water hose inside her vagina. She was an SLFP Samurdhi worker. (this was after the UNP won the 2001 election). The Catholic (NGO) SEDEC in Kandy (affiliated to AHRC, Hong Kong) came forward on their own to provide legal assistance for a HR case. Suddenly SEDEC dropped the case and the lawyer provided by AHRC did not turn up in court. Later it came out that the brother of the priest in charge of SEDEC, Kandy was an high profile UNP-er from Kegalle and the case was an embarrassment because the UNP Minister of Women’s Affairs was from Wariyapola and the abduction took place on Women’s Day.  

What sense of citizenship and of rights accruing from them do even the ordinary Sinhala poor and powerless have? What does carrying a Lankan passport mean to all those women of all ethnicities toiling in the Middle East?  

I am convinced that there are a million similar stories that never get articulated, talked about and congeal into political projects. Just consider this for example: it was the poor who fought the LTTE, it was they who lost their limbs, lost their lives. During the last three years, people had to tighten their belts. In the national interest, they were told. Who really tightened their belts? The super rich? No. The poor.

The same with the LTTE cadres. The rich were living it up abroad, goading their poorer brethren to fight. And die. It is reported that some 10,000 persons living in Welfare Centres in Chundikulam have managed to leave these places without the knowledge of those running them. How did they do it? The allegation is that they bribed their way out. With what? Money! They either had the money or they had friends and family who could provide it.

Who dies during election violence? The wealthy? The powerful? No, the ‘rank-and-file’. The poor.

Quite apart from such deprivations, we have to take note of the fact that the structure of political and economic power and yes, even the structures of justice and law-enforcement, are skewed against the poor.

My friend and former colleague at the Island, C.A. Chandraprema, put it well when I ran into him last week. ‘Do you think Tissainayagam, had he been rich, would have ended up with what he got? No machang, the Tamil community would have moved heaven and earth to get him out.’ Yes, regardless of the legitimacy of detention, charge, judicial process and determination, we can’t get over the fact that J.S. Tissainayagam was not wealthy. Rs. 50,000 is peanuts for the usual NGO operative. Only a man desperately in need of money would withdraw the amount the moment it was sent into the relevant bank account.

If you are not convinced, ask yourself how it so happened that J.S. Tissainayagam got sentenced to 20 years of RI for being untruthful in what he wrote, for inciting communal disharmony (largely a subjective determination) and accepting money from a terrorist outfit, while George Master and Daya Master who were in the thick of the LTTE get released on bail. I am not convinced that this difference came from a certain refusal to ‘repent’ on the part of Tissainayagam and a willingness to cooperate on the part of Daya and George.

Tissa had an edge, though. He wrote in English. His case was taken up internationally by the Eelam Lobby as well as its cheer-boys. He still lost and I am not convinced that this was purely because he didn’t have a case. But imagine a poor Tamil (or Sinhala) boy or girl held for some petty infringement of the law or worse, was being detained on grounds of patently false accusations. I am sure there are hundreds of thousands of such cases. Do we know a single name? No. Is anyone agitating for their immediate release? No.

It is in this context that the largely abandoned struggle for meaningful citizenship rights acquires or ought to acquire privileged position in the political discourse. It will not end poverty or alter the structures of exploitation, but it will make things easier for the poor. At any rate, the issue of class and the politics that are consequent to the condition of class structure will not leave us. If we are to be a united nation, a nation that we can be proud of, then we cannot privilege certain citizenship anomalies over others. ‘Class’ is something we have to return to, especially now that the ‘ethnic’ in our politics is showing signs of dying a deserved and long overdue death.

*First published in the Sunday Island, September 13, 2009

msenevira@gmail.com.

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When the Pied Piper comes a-calling

It's not just about mice and kids.   Pic courtesy gutenberg.org

Precedence is an important word.  It is a license-giver.  It helps define the universe of the possible.  As important, it is a very important educational devise.  If you see or know of someone who has rubbed two sticks and produced fire, you are well on your way to becoming a fire-maker.  Precedence prompts replication, not just of act, but similar acts, i.e. those based on the fulfillment of conditions similar to those that precipitated the initial act. 

Precedence is example.  If sanctioned, it amounts to ‘law’, and consequently open to use and abuse.  This is what’s so beautiful of that sad but telling children’s story ‘The Pied Piper of Hamlin’.  It is telling because it is amenable to a very adult, very contemporary (across time and space, really) interpretation. 

First a recap to un-cobweb adult mind and facilitate a revisit to childhood.  Hamlin had a problem. Rats.  Hamlin needed a solution.  Hamlin was willing to pay for a solution. Pied Piper arrives.  States his price.  There is agreement. He plays a flute.  The rats of Hamlin follow him. All rats.   He walks to the river, playing the flute.  Gets on a boat.  The rats follow.  They commit mass suicide (unintended of course).  Hamlin gets its problem solved. Reneges on payment.  Piper plays the pipe.  No more rats to follow him.  There are children, though. Hamlin. No rats. No kids. End of story. 

Extrapolation.  An instrument useful in one instance can be abused to deliver an unexpected and unwanted outcome.  The flute is system, the piper the person(s) using/abusing the system, and the people of Hamlin those who ought to have seen that there’s danger in sanctioning a particular course of action because it can be cited in justifying similar actions even if the outcomes are not exactly happy.

It is not always about the same person using the same instrument for two different purposes, one prompting salutation and the other horror and condemnation.  Take the 1978 Constitution, the JRJ one, that is.  I doubt if any UNPer who voted for that constitution in 1978 would have imagined that it would boomerang on the party just 14 years later. 

This is the perennial Hamlin-error.  The Hamlins think that the good times are forever, they believe that a system or instrument that has benefited on one occasion will continue to benefit. They cannot imagine that something that delivered the ira-sanda (sun and moon) would or could also cause a total eclipse.  It did not matter as long as it was ‘our guy’ in charge.  Time passed, things changed and the changing circumstances saw script being tweaked just at the right/wrong (depending on preferred outcome) time in the right/wrong way and all of a sudden the UNP found it had got on the wrong side of Mr. Constitution-Piper. 

The ‘adult’ message is simple.  It can be reduced to a single word: beware.  Need elaboration?  Think ‘worst case scenario’.  Think ‘The UNP in 1978 and in 1994’. Think ‘the children of Hamlin’.  It is easy to be blind and blissful when things go your way.  It is easy to think ‘let’s make the best of the good times’.  That’s one way of seeing it. It is not the most patriotic or democratic way of doing things, though.

The chair upon which ‘Our Guy’ sits today could be occupied by ‘Their Guy’ tomorrow.  The former is the equivalent of the rat-exterminating scenario and the latter the kid-less outcome. 

It is simple, really.  There is nothing illegal about playing a flute.  In other words, systems can be put in place or amended through legal means.  The problems lies in the nature of the worms in the political can that is invariably opened or, to put it another way, the difficulty in coming up with a melody-restrictor once the flautist is given a visitor’s pass. 

These are days when system change/amendment is being discussed.  Sometimes the power to change is dearly purchased.  It is sometimes a once-in-twenty-years kind of opportunity.  Or worse.  All the more reason to be careful, to take time, to shake your proposal many times and ask as many people as possible to comment. 

It is a good time to visit a little village called Hamlin. Good to ask about rats.  About kids.  And about how a simple devise could be used to two starkly different purposes.  About the Our-Guy-Their-Guy issue mentioned above. 

The rats of Hamlin.  That was the past.  The children; they were the future.  A single instrument. Used for different purposes.  That’s a political lesson, I feel. Something we should all learn in these days of ‘setting things right’.

*First published in September 2010 in the Daily News 

msenevira@gmail.com

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