Carlo’s lesson

Human beings are frail. They err.  Sometime the transgressions are deliberate.  There are times also when poor judgment, lack of adequate information, deductive poverty, emotion and arrogance result in wrongdoing.  There are no safeguards against the former.  People who believe they can get away with murder will murder for the ‘getting-away’ is but after-thought of murder-decision.  If found out and charged very few would acknowledge crime. Most would look for loophole.

Of the latter type most who later realize the error of their ways would let sleeping dogs lie, so to say.  If error is pointed out, there would be many who twiddle thumbs, many who would try to pass the buck one way or the other, and many who would seek to dismiss or dismiss weight of mistake.  It is a rare breed that acknowledges in full, accepts responsibility and pleads forgiveness. 

Professor Carlo Fonseka is a rare man.  He has his detractors, those who disagree with him and who find fault with the positions he’s taken on particular issues.  One thing is clear: he is a man with a conscience.  If he makes a stand it is because he identifies with the particular cause.  If he is silent it is because he has reconciled to himself that silence is ideologically correct, socially responsible and politically appropriate.  He will, if pushed, defend the positions he takes. 

On January 19, 2013, Carlo Fonseka stepped back.  He admitted error.   Indeed, he virtually confessed that he was accessory after the fact of crucifixion. He asked for forgiveness.

The ‘crime’ was relatively mild.  All he had done was to repeat a lie, which he had honestly believed to be true, that the late Gamini Dissanayake was behind the burning of the Jaffna Library.  He did this on approximately 30 occasions in public forums, i.e. during Chandrika Kumaratunga’s presidential election campaign in 1994.  Now, with the retired police officer Edward Gunawardena establishing clearly in his memoirs ‘Memorable Tidbits include the Jaffna Library Burning’ that it was the LTTE that was responsible for this crime, Prof Fonseka had a choice to make.  He could have ignored, told himself that he had gone with what was thought to be the truth, downplayed his error or taken refuge in any number of absolving arguments.  He went public with confession.  He apologized to the Dissanayake family.  He asked Navin Dissanayake (Gamini’s son) to think of his late father and say ‘Father forgive him, for he did not know what he was doing’.   He need not have, but he did.  Rare. 

Confession does not put parts of broken things together.  Event, personality, time and metaphor pass and pass rapidly over crime-moment.  ‘Sorry’ doesn’t turn back time. It doesn’t draw back fire into matchstick.  It does not turn ash into manuscript and brick.  Remorse, however, imprisons arrogance, subverts righteous anger and makes healing possible.

At the same event, Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera pointed out that the error resulted in another crime: false accusation.  It was not just Gamini Dissanayake who was vilified.  The state, erroneously (and deliberately) tagged ‘Sinhala Buddhist’ by the LTTE, Tamil chauvinists and others who had a gripe against Sinhalese and Buddhists, stood accused.  Errors of omission and commission did nothing to put the record straight.  No apologies so far.

Prof Fonseka has sowed the seeds of humility.  He can be emulated.  One does not have to say ‘You are right, I am wrong’, but one can say, in the very least, ‘You may be in error, but I am not error-free either’.  This country has seen a lot of violence.  Few are guilt-free.  Individuals can step up and become bigger men and women.  They can speak for themselves, for few have the right to speak for collectives. 

One can say, ‘They’re not remorseful, so why should I?’   Fear comes from possible political fallout.  Carlo Fonseka is a bigger man than he was.   Humility is rewarded.  In the very least it makes for less sleeplessness.  If you have a conscience, that is. 

['The Nation' Editorial, January 27, 2013] 

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Our cultural icons

Reality shows are the rage these days.  If all the stars of these reality shows actually shed light, we would not worry about the vagaries of the weather or fluctuations in the oil price.  Every years, on almost every television channel, we see stars and star-aspirants.  Thousands get together to ensure that a few individuals enjoy a moment of fame.  Few thereafter would remember the names of the particular stars, but this won’t stop thousands from doing the same for another set of individuals the following year.

Stars come and go. They shine for awhile, are applauded, gone crazy over and then forgotten, like in the well known Eagles song ‘New Kid in Town’: ‘They will never forget you till somebody new comes along’.

Icons are different.  Somebody new coming along does not dislodge icons from cultural firmaments.  What they produce continues to fragrance the world long after they’ve passed on.  That reverberation is perhaps the true test of greatness, for no communications campaign however sophisticated and fund-rich it may be, can exact and retain loyalty for decades and decades.  Stars have shelf life, icons are timeless. 

Icons, typically, do not seek immortality.  And yet, they are honoured not just by overwhelming public respect and adoration but by the conferring of title.  That recognition, though un-sought, is important, less for the recognized as for the recognizing, for it affirms the fact that a nation appreciates the contributions of the particular individuals.

In Sri Lanka, this ‘recognition’ is called Sri Lankabhimanya or Lankabhimanya (The Pride of Sri Lanka).  It is awarded by the President and is the highest civil honor, conferred for exceptionally outstanding and most distinguished services to the nation.  The first recipient was the late Sir Arthur C Clarke, in 2005.  Lakshman Kadirgamar was conferred the title posthumously the same year.  Thereafter, in 2007, A.T. Ariyaratne, Lester James Peries and Christopher Weeramantry were similarly honored.

Clearly, there are many individuals who came before any of the above who richly deserved the title.  Any nation with a recorded history of 2500 years would have more than a handful of icons and if the posthumous clause is evoked, we could literary have hundreds if not thousands deserving the title. If we were to look at the past few decades alone, we would have, for example, Premasiri Khemadasa, Rev Fr. Marcelline Jayakody, Martin Wickramasinghe, Ediriweera Sarachchandra and Chitrasena. 

What of the present, though, and what of the living?  There are three indisputable cultural icons alive today, Dr Lester J Peiris (cinema), Gunadasa Amarasekera (literature) and W D Amaradeva (music).  The first has already received this rare honour.  The other two are both in their eighties now and, as is typical of iconic personalities, continue to stimulate and hone our cultural sensibilities.   

W.D. Amaradeva is not a reality-show pop-up and neither is Gunadasa Amarasekera.  Both are indefatigable.  Their commitment to their chosen mediums of expression is marked by dedication, a striving for perfection and most importantly underlined by love for the country, its history and heritage and recognition of all this as source of learning, creating and celebrating the aesthetic. 

Like all of us, they will pass.  They, unlike most of us, will be eulogized, accorded posthumous tributes such as postage stamps, memorial lectures and name-prefixes to institutions relevant to their particular fields.  If icons are undeserving of anything it is this after-thought type of tribute.  They are deserving of the highest honor, right now.  If not, we would be doing a disservice to these exceptional fellow-citizens and doing ourselves a disservice in the process. 

[Editorial, 'The Nation', July 22, 2012]

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As the sun sets on the dominant paradigm of development…

The fall of the Berlin Wall and the collapse of Soviet-style systems in Easter Europe for people was seen as a triumph of one political and economic system over another, that of capitalism over communism.  Even today very few people recognize that the two systems are essentially two versions of a single paradigm called ‘modernism’, which flows from a largely Euro-Centric understanding of the world and consequent extrapolations. 

For many decades there were things we were supposed to treat as self-evident truths.  We were allowed to be anti-imperialist and anti-capitalist but were not allowed to question ‘modernity’, which was duly accorded with some kind of ‘intrinsic’ value and marketed as something good that everyone should aspire to obtain.  And there was ‘science’ as in an overarching knowledge system and relevant applications which too were based on fundamentally Euro-Centric philosophies and epistemologies.  We could criticize the West and its imperialistic urges but were required to treat with utmost respect and accord god-given status that thing called ‘science’ as defined by the West. 

When people like Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera (‘Ganadura Mediyama Dakinemi Arunalu’ – ‘I see the first rays of dawn breaking through the dark night’) and Prof. Nalin De Silva (‘Mage Lokaya’ – ‘My world’) began questioning the modernist premises and especially its Marxian variants, they were vilified as racists, chauvinists and accused of being archaic and guilty of an unwholesome fascination with the past. Even those who recognized that they could not be pooh-poohed away, complimented them in backhanded manner, calling them ‘native intellectuals’ as though there is such a thing as an ‘international intellectual’. 

A lot of what these two individuals were articulating were in fact already quite in vogue in intellectual circles in the Western Hemisphere.  The ‘cardinal error’ committed by Gunadasa and Nalin was that they drew extensively from Buddhist philosophy to critique the dominant paradigms and recognized the fact that much of the critique that was coming from within the West itself was founded on principles that Lord Buddha had articulated more than two millennia before. 

I still remember a comment made by Deepthi Kumara Gunaratne of the now defunct ‘X Kandayama’ which quickly succumbed to in-fighting and thanks to incomplete and erroneous reading of the bibles they preferred slid from scholarly engagement to pornography.  This was outside the Public Library in the early years of this century.  He chided me: ‘You will become just another journalist if you don’t give the reading public the new knowledge of the world’.  I asked him what this new knowledge was.  He said, ‘Derrida, Foucault, Lacan’.  I said, ‘mata e siyalu denaatama wediya budu haamuduruwo aluth’ (to me, Lord Buddha is more ‘new’ than all these people).  That newness was something that I discovered thanks to people like Nalin and Gunadasa and which I was persuaded to explore in greater depth by Champika Ranawaka.

In February 1992 Champika Ranawaka and 15 others were arrested at the Kauduwuwa Temple in Wadduwa by some overzealous police officers.  They took into custody and destroyed the manuscript of a book that Champika had authored based on notes he had been maintaining since 1989, i.e. long before terms such as sustainable development and traditional knowledge systems entered the lexicon of ‘sanvardanaya’ (development) in Sri Lanka.  Champika was held for three weeks.  All he did was write.  Re-write, to be more accurate.  He re-wrote that document, which he titled ‘Sanvaradanaye Thunveni Yamaya’ (translatable as ‘The sunset of development’).  That book, ‘published’ in Roneo print in 1991, was the foundational document of the first ever green political movement in Sri Lanka, the Janatha Mithuro. 

Those who are quick to call Champika (and others) racists, chauvinists, extremists etc., refuse to acknowledge two things. First, that their consistent, principled and at that time largely unpopular and vilified struggle against LTTE propaganda and Eelamist posturing (including its ‘federalist’ versions) played an important role in overturning the ideological dominance of the Eelam Project to which significant sections of the polity had succumbed.  They do not acknowledge that had these ‘racists’ not been around, it is quite possible that we would be living in a post-CFA Sri Lanka which would have (in the very least) the LTTE governing one-third the country and half the coastline and where all of us constantly live under the shadow of terrorism. 

Second, even if there is reason to treat with suspicion and fear the Sinhala Buddhist nationalism that Champika championed, this does not take away from the fact that he is clearly way ahead of his generation in terms of intellect and academic output.  Few can match the volume of his writing. Fewer still would dare challenge him to debate on any of the subjects he has engaged with over the past two decades, including the philosophy of science, quantum physics, paradigms of development, politics pertaining to environment and Buddhist philosophy.  He gave political expression to the theories first articulated by Gunadasa and Nalin.  Even those who disagree with him on certain issues, and I am one of them, must recognize that he is a formidable foe, not least of all because of his indefatigable energy, the fact that he is a voracious reader, and his considerable capacity to synthesize the material he encounters and extrapolate and apply in ways few are able to do.  

My principle critique of Champika has been the fact that he has allowed Sangvardanaye Thunveni Yamaya to gather dust, as it were, in preference to the politics pertaining to overcoming the terrorist threat, even though the latter was a prerogative that no nationalist could put on the back-burner.  This is why I believe that despite certain flaws and shortcomings, some of which is understandable given political realities and limitations of resources, he was the most suitable person to be the Minister of Environment and Natural Resources.  It forced his hand.

That he turned the ministry and its various institutions into profit-making entities that did not have to depend on the Treasury, attests to his considerable abilities.  He also deserves applause for running a clean show and can be justifiably proud of the fact that former COPE chief, Wijedasa Rajapaksa’s assertion that his was one ministry that was free of corruption and misappropriation of funds.

What struck me most and what made me write this, however, is a small news item in the Daily News of March 11, 2010 (business section) titled ‘Council for Sustainable Development mooted’.   He has said that a ‘Green Lanka Programme’ will be implemented from 2010 to 2016 through a National Council for Sustainable Development which will be set up by the ministry. 

He has pointed out the dangers of over-dependence on fossil fuels, remarking that the emission quota for this century ended on September 25, 2009, a sobering fact indeed.  We know today that the ecological footprint is obliterating bio-capacities and that nations are running on ecological debt.  Champika Ranawaka, it can be argued, is two decades late.  On the other hand, we have to recognize that we were a nation and a people that were lazy and clearly unwilling to wake up to these realities during the same period. 

There is a significant mismatch between the sentiments that Champika has expressed and the strategies implemented (and those in the pipeline for implementation) and the overall direction, thrust and character of that which is called ‘national development’.  Both ‘environment’ and ‘people’ have been de-factored or suppressed to regime preferences which still salute (in practice) the dominant (and failed/failing) paradigms of development.  

We can vilify Champika Ranawaka, Nalin De Silva, Gunadasa Amarasekera and others if we don’t like their faces or are uncomfortable with their politics pertaining to notions of identity and nationalism, but we can’t vilify ourselves and pretend that things are ok, or that ‘modernism’ or ‘capitalism’ or anything else would ‘work’ under a different regime. That’s being naïve and moronic. 

We believed human beings could dominate nature and craft it as they liked. This was the fundamental flaw of Euro-Centric philosophies and development paradigms and indeed ‘science’.  The ‘centrality’ of the human being has proved to be a massively erroneous conjecture.  Correction requires the injection of massive doses of humility.  I am not saying Champika is humble. He is not.  On the other hand, his theories and the strategies he is trying out are most certainly ‘humbling’ and this is a step in the right (or at least ‘a better’) direction.  

[first published in the Daily News on March 12, 2010]

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Gunadasa Amarasekera: The dentist — philosopher rooted in Sinhala soil

[This article was first published in the Sunday Island in 2001]

Some people are controversial. Some fall victim to the invective that arises out of controversy. Some, very few, smile and go about their work regardless. I suspect that such people are able to weather the storms they unleash or provoke because they have resolved to commit themselves to perceive the eternal verities of life and as such are not perturbed by praise or blame. Some people demonstrate this quality in their work. In others it is present in all their life activity. They are rare.

The first time I encountered Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera was in the early seventies, when my parents took me to the Dental Institute to get a tooth extracted. Or was it a filling? I can’t remember. I do recall a smiling face. And just the other day, it occurred to me that the warmth written in that smile had not changed. We chatted for hours about his life, his extensive writings, literature, politics, the changes this country, and the ferment in its cultural ethos, challenged as it is by the seemingly inexorable intrusion of western ideological drives in their patently violent forms.

He was born in 1929 and grew up in a remote village called Yatalamatta, some 15 miles inland of Galle. His father was a vedamahattaya and his mother the headmistress of a school. Gunadasa was a sickly child and whereas his older brother and younger sister had been sent to the missionary school in Baddegama, he had been kept at home until he was 12 or so on account of the epileptic fits he had been regularly afflicted with.

Gunadasa maintains that this was a blessing in disguise because it allowed him to familiarise himself with Sinhala literature. His father had been an ardent admirer of Anagarika Dharmapala, and being well versed in both Sanskrit and Pali and given to reciting the classical epics such as the Selalihini Sandesaya. In fact he had written a poem dedicated to Mahatma Gandhi in Sanskrit. Apparently the principle of Vidyodaya, Rev. Baddegama Piyarathana, was his father’s brother. He also remembers listening to his mother reading from the Kusa Jathakaya in school. The intellectual climate in the household had also been enhanced by newspapers such as Sarasavi Sandares which were regularly purchased.

As such there was already a culture of learning and appreciation of literature that the young Gunadasa was enveloped in. This was complemented by the inevitable immersion in the cultural ethos of the village life.

At 12, Gunadasa had been sent to Baddegama so that he could be educated in English. He had stayed with his aunt’s family, who were Christian. "That was my first encounter with the West, and I remember instinctively rebelling, for instance, arguing the worth of ayurvedic medicine."

He went to Nalanda during the war years. "There was a certain ‘awakening’ among the Sinhala educated people. We had W. A. Silva’s novels, the Colombo poets and of course Gamperaliya came out in 1944. It was also at this time that the free education movement began. People like Kannangara and Malalasekera were unreservedly ridiculed. The Catholics, the Christians and the English educated elite rebelled against these trends."

According to him "1956" didn’t just happen. It was preceded by long struggles and many factors, including the existence of people like his father whose sensibilities were deeply rooted in the strong foundation of our culture.

It was while at Nalanda that he first showed signs of becoming a writer. To begin with he was influenced by teachers like W. S. Perera, or "Siri Aiya" as the poet was better known, Karunaratne Abeysekera and Ridgeway Tillekeratne. He also closely associated with the Colombo poets during this time.

"It was around this time that D. B. Dhanapala started the Lankadeepa, thus challenging the Lake House monopoly, and more than that encouraging the local traditions and writers. In 1952 the Times Group had organised a short-story competition, sponsored by the New York Herald Tribune. Gunadasa had submitted a story titled "Soma" which had won first prize. Soma, along with the winner in the English category, "A culture of hate" by A. Felician Fernando, were later published in a collection titled "World Prize Stories".

This had naturally given the young author some exposure and M. D. Gunasena had come forward to publish a collection of short stories titled Rathu Rosa Mal just before he joined the university. He had studied science at Nalanda although the school was not noted for its strength in these subjects and had been selected to the Dental School at Peradeniya. His studies in dentistry did not prevent him from experimenting with the Sinhala language and its creative potentials. While in the university he published a collection of Sinhala free verse titled Bhava Geetha.

"Even at that time, I was looking for a ‘native’ form based on our folk poetry and its particular structural forms such as the pasmath viritha. Bhava Geetha was followed by Amalbiso, Guruluvatha and Avarjana. Karumakkarayo and the short story collection Jeevana Suwanda, also came out around the same time."

The sheer volume of his work during this time, considering also the fact that he was following a strenuous programme in dentistry, clearly speaks to the man’s discipline as well as the intellectual and creative ferment within him. Gunadasa explained that the above mentioned works belonged to what he calls the "first phase," i.e. when he was relatively free from the influence of the Western traditions. They also worked around immediate themes such as university life, adulthood and its associated problems.

Later he was to be heavily influenced by Western authors such as D. H. Lawrence and Arthur Miller and possibly explains his flirtations with eroticism. It was during this "second phase" (which he says was "imitative") that he wrote the novels Yali Upannemi and Depa Noladdo.

It is perhaps not possible to talk about this period of the writer's life without mentioning Peradeniya University and everything it stood for. "There was a general culture of looking to the West." Although Gunadasa remains sympathetic to the socialist ideal, he claimed that he was not too enamoured with the Marxists: "Instinctively I felt something alien in their approach, it was probably the cultural factor." Or perhaps the absence of it in the way that Marxists then and now explicate their canon.

Gunadasa marks Martin Wickramasinghe’s critique of the Peradeniya novel as the beginning of the "second phase" of his journey with the pen. "Martin Wickramasinghe charged that those who belonged to the Peradeniya school were mere imitators and that they were looking through foreign lenses. And so arose the controversy between him and Sarachchandra. Initially I took up a position that was oppositional to Wickramasinghe, but later I reexamined my views. I came to realise that the tendency in Peradeniya was to take man out of his cultural context. They were looking for universal human values."

Perhaps it was a product of the maturing process. Gunadasa himself admits that self-criticism is part and parcel of the writer’s world since he is constantly questioning things. For him a writer is primarily an intellectual. "For a serious writer, writing is not an end, but a means to an end, it is a living process. He has to come to terms with what he perceives, writing is but a by-product of the process."

He left for his post graduate studies in 1967. Gunadasa claimed that by this time his views had undergone radical change and he was intent on trying to place people in the social and cultural context. He wrote Gandabba Apadanaya just before he left. This marked his "third phase".

England had been an eye-opener. "I realised how alien they were and how radically different we were to them. During this time I came out with Ektemen Polovata, Katha Pahak, and Premaye Sathya Kathava.

Gunadasa laments that our reading public, society in general and the intelligentsia have stopped growing. He offered that this is probably due to the fact that once the flaws of blind aping of the West surfaced, it petrified people and prevented them from coming up with something of their own.

"My novels are hardly discussed. I am not saying that they are excellent works, but I do believe that they are worthy of comment and discussion."

It is also in this "third phase" that Gunadasa ventured out of literature to the political and ideological spheres in a more direct way. Abuddassa Yugayak and Ganadura Mediyama Dakinemi Arunalu, this is clearly evident, the latter becoming a veritable handbook of those who found answers to some of their burning questions with regard to civilisation and the social-political crisis they were undergoing in the Jathika Chinthanaya school.

"I found that literature alone was not enough and that something had to be said in a more direct form. In 1980 I wrote Anagarika Dharmapala Marxvadiyek da?" I remember Dr. Nalin de Silva writing a harsh review of the book. But he later told me that that was the book that changed him and took him away from Marxism."

I ventured that literature is able to implant ideas in a deeper way within a person’s sensibilities as opposed to ideological theses, and he said "A writer is someone who experiences discontent. His mind is a prism, it can express itself academically, through fiction, essays or any number of ways. Take Martin Wickramasinghe for example. There is no argument that he is a colossus among the Sinhala writers of the 20th century. But he did not stick to fiction. Through his novels and his essays he was searching for one thing, the Sinhala Lakuna, the Sinhala mark or identity.

"But I do see your point. If our politicians were poets things would have been much better. Look at Mao, and even Lenin, who saw the political and philosophical worth of Chekov’s Ward Six.

"Marxism in Sri Lanka was conspicuously non-creative. It became a substitute for thinking. Our Marxists have made absolutely no contribution of significance to the debates within Marxism. Here it was nothing but fuel for dull minds and mediocrity."

It was time to move on to Jathika Chinthanaya and his long association with the much maligned, controversial and in many ways invaluable Dr. Nalin de Silva.

"As I said earlier, the seeds of ’56 were planted by Anagarika Dharmapala. He helped create the intelligentsia in the village. In fact I believe that the future of this country is still in the hands of the educated rural youth. Rural peoples are culturally rooted and disciplined. What happened was that we got a full blast of colonialism and neo-colonialism. Challenging this cultural imperialism will have to be based on civilisation and nationalism. The West does not have the answers. They are fundamentally rooted in analytical philosophy which is but an expression of philosophical poverty. I think Wittgenstein was right when he said that ‘It’s just language’.

"This is why, the post-modernists can’t go beyond a critique. At least the Marxists tried to go beyond what existed. They failed because they are philosophically tied to the same modernist principles."

Discussing Jathika Chintanaya, I asked him if it was correct to say that the very demand for a definition of the idea is indicative of the modernist affliction and fascination with neat equation and categorisation. He agreed. "It is a concept. There is nothing to ‘discover’ here. We just articulated it, but it is also present in the work of Dharmapala and Munidasa. It is something that is evident everywhere, it’s flavour is understood in the flesh if we move from the Western fixation on ‘having’ to the idea of ‘being’."

He explained that some of the leading lights of the Frankfurt School, those who pioneered Western Marxism in the USA, like Eric Fromm and Max Horkheimer seem to have understood this. "In his essay To have or to be, Fromm claims that the Western world was never Christian outside of the period between the 13th and 16th centuries. They moved from paganism to the industrial revolution where reason degenerated into manipulative intelligence and individualism to selfishness, resulting in a quick return to the original paganism."

Gunadasa observed how in the 50 plus years since Independence, we blundered because we wanted to follow the pagan ethic of "wanting to have". "We moved from Marxist Socialism to extreme capitalism. Why? Because we were rudderless, so to speak. Whatever success that the Marxists enjoyed was because of Buddhism, and its socialist orientation."

"The interesting thing is that renowned theorists like Huntington have now understood that history did not end as Fukiyama claimed, with the world moving towards a uniform set of values, but that what was paramount was the civilisational collectives and drives. Jathika Chinthanaya translates roughly as ‘civilisational consciousness’. I first wrote about it in the Divaina. Nalin of course gave it a solid philosophical foundation. In fact he was our first postmodernist.

There are two categories of people in terms of the reaction to the idea. The first don’t understand it in philosophical terms and you can’t blame them. After all they have been subjected to three centuries of cultural imperialism and as such are handicapped by history. The second category includes those who will fully refuse to acknowledge its logical worth. They find it dangerous because it speaks of a national ideology which is a threat to Western imperialism of which they are but pawns and part beneficiaries."

Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera is a quiet optimist. Unlike Nalin, he is less interested in the overtly political, and believes that his forte lies in the use of the word. And this he has used to good effect. The series of historical novels that started with Gamanaka Mula, quite apart from their literary worth, are eminently sociological works that trace the evolution of the so-called Sinhala middle-class. We have already been treated to Gamdorin Eliyata, Inimage Ihalata, Vankagiriyaka, Yali Maga Vetha and Duru Rataka Dukata Kiriyaka. They are said to be biographical but clearly go beyond tracing the intellectual journeys of a single man, remarkable though he may be.

It is certainly beyond my task to offer a full literary criticism of the collected works of Gunadasa Amarasekera. All I can say is that his books are read by the intellectually curious and those who enjoy books for their sheer literary value. The value of the man, is, I believe beyond calculation. I remember an essay in his Ganaduru Mediyama Dakinemi Arunalu, where he takes to task those who characterise people like him as "deshiya buddhimatun" or indigenous intellectuals. He asks "What does one call those other, non-deshiya intellectuals? The point is this, if one is not deshiya, by definition one cannot be an intellectual."

At 71, Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera is long retired from his dental practice. His mind, however, is clearly still at work. I found him to be equipped with up to date knowledge and deep understanding of both the current debates in academic circles as well as a comprehensive understanding of both local and international political currents.

He is currently working on a sequel to his thought-provoking Gal Pilimaya Saha Bol Pilimaya, which he says will probably be out in two to three months. The tentative title is Pilima Lovin Piyavi Lovata. In addition he is working on the last two parts of the series he started with Gamanaka Mula.

I can’t resist saying, "we are fortunate". And also quote my friend Piyasiri, "One man is not a front". But then again, this "front" is and will remain as invisible as the ranks that made up "1956" possible. Hopefully this time around, they will rise outside the crass frames of power politics. In any event, when such change occurs, there is no doubt in my mind, he will rank high among those whose lives made it possible to imagine and create a new kind of living, closer to that which is at the core of who we are, our cultural sensibility.

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The pathways from Democrazy to Ethnocrazy

It is fashionable at times to compare apples and oranges.  It is convenient to blur differences.  It is easy to use blanket terms.  For example, ‘The Arab Spring’, which implies that all Arab nations suffering political convulsions can be spoken of in one breath.  Egypt, however was not Libya and neither Saudi Arabia nor Bahrain will be allowed to be Egypt or Tunisia, let alone Libya. 

‘Libya’ was different because a degree of international approval for the NATO invasion was arm-twisted off the Arab League (which has since expressed misgivings), not to mention tacit approval by China and Russia.  Libya was different because of oil-wealth and a long history of being unbending to the will of Western thug nations.  Gaddafi didn’t do his case any good, sure, but then again, worse offenses have not provoked the same kind of invective backed by military invasion either.  The world is not fair, this we know. 

‘Libya’ has naturally invited comparisons with Sri Lanka.  Well, we don’t have oil; not yet anyway and even if we did, not in comparable quantity or quality.  Sri Lanka and Mahinda Rajapaksa are not exactly ‘unbending’ in the Gaddafiesque sense.  Neither does the tyrant-tyranny argument hold much water.  Still, when it is convenient truth can be fudged, realities manufactured and gonibillas conjured too. 

I read two comments which referred to Libya in the Midweek Review of the Island (August 31, 2011): Dayan Jayatilleka’s ‘Libyan lessons for Lanka’, and Fr. J.C. Pieris’ ‘Government lapses and the patriotic trap’.  Fr. Pieris’ chides Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekera for going easy on the lapses of the Government.  He faults Dr. Amarasekera for not going far enough with his regime criticism, pointing out that they ‘cannot be disregarded as inevitable irritants we must put up with for the sake of the country,’ i.e to stop it from being the next Iraq or Libya. 

To be fair, all those who spoke at the symposium where Dr. Amarasekera called for the defence of the President, Dr. Amarasekera included, have on numerous occasions leveled scathing criticism on the man and his government; i.e. all those associated with the particular organization, the Strategic Initiatives for the Protection of Sri Lanka.  In my short presentation at the said symposium, I did refer to issues of corruption, flaws in governance and so on (elaborated in an article titled ‘Offensives and counter offensives’, Sunday Island of August 28, 2011), for example, and that was certainly not a one-off footnote-like comment.

Fr. Peiris is right, however.  This regime knows that to the extent that it is seen as a bulwark against separatism and bullying in a country where the stronger sections of the ‘alternative’ are as compromised morally and worse, have shown themselves to be ideologically and politically as thick-as-thieves with separatism, it has the patriots in the kind of bind that Fr. Peiris describes.  If, for example, there’s any Libyanization attempt or some external attempt at illegal regime change, then for reasons or morality and the need to mitigate threats on sovereignty and territorial integrity, Mahinda Rajapaksa will not find support lacking from the nationalists.

On the other hand, as Fr. Peiris rightly says, ‘A patriot does not steal from his own disadvantaged brothers and sisters; a patriot does not waste national wealth; a patriot does not sell our land, our assets and our resources to foreigners; a patriot loves all the people of the country and is just and fair to all not nepotistic; a patriot establishes law and order in the country and lives according to it’.  It is incumbent on patriots to call for patriotism on all counts, and tell those who would conjure the threat of a Sri Lankan ‘Libya’ that warding off the devil calls for putting the house in order as a necessary prerequisite on all the counts Fr. Peiris has enumerated and others besides. 

Dayan Jayatilleka

Dayan is different.  He’s a beneficiary of regime largesse.  True, he was extremely effective as Permanent Representative at the UN in Geneva in warding off anti-Sri Lankan initiatives, but has nevertheless abused the office and the prestige of title to tout his own brand of separatism.  He does rant and rave about Tamil grievances and does champion the Chelvanayakam plan of ‘little now, more later’ by arguing for ‘resolutions’ that will in effect fix the boundaries conjured by Eelamist myth-making.  He does not rant and rave about regime flaw.  His sycophancy was quite evident in his multi-newspaper defense of his boss, G.L. Peiries at the time the latter was facing a vote of no-confidence in Parliament. 

What is most striking, however, about Dayan’s piece is that he deftly (yes, he’s good at this) throws in selective realism to inflate the threat, making the devil blacker than he/she is.  He argues ‘Libya’ was made possible by the approval obtained from the Arab League, Organization of the Islamic Conference, and Gulf Cooperation Council.  Now, are we to believe that had such approval been absent, ‘Libya’ would not have happened?  By-your-leave is not part of the culture of global thuggery, Dayan knows this.  Indeed, he knows enough world history to give his readers a lengthy list of these R2P-like operations without any such approval from regional groupings. 

So why does he bring all that into the story? Simple: India.  Sri Lanka must please India, is and has always been this political quack’s line, frilled of course with lots of Marxist mumbo-jumbo.  He contends that ‘de-stabilisation, hegemonic intervention and regime change are possible only if there is a breach in the wall of neighbourhood solidarity’ and warns, ‘already in the sub-region, comprising Sri Lanka’s ‘greater Northern’ neighbourhood, voices of redolent of ancient animosity are being raised’.  He doesn’t have to say ‘India’ any more.  The thesis is clear: surrender to India’s will and the President and the regime will be safe.

It’s not about regime or president, though. It is about sovereignty and territorial integrity with or without regime or president.  The man goes on to re-define patriotism as all those things that win support from the neighbourhood (only one neighbor counts here, India).  Fr. Peiris’ criteria for patriotism is not even footnoted.  Dayan sweeps it all away with a clean India-made, for-India broom. 

He lets it all out by claiming that there is an ‘imperative need for compromises and concessions on the secondary and the tactical, so that a strong protective ring can be reconstructed on our perimeter, i.e., our neighbourhood, thereby protecting that which is essential: Sri Lanka’s sovereignty, unity, territorial integrity and the gains of the historic military victory’.  In other words, we need to please India, and pleasing India means giving into Eelamist demands pertaining to devolution, not because it resolves any ‘grievances’ but because it is a ‘tactical imperative’.  We need to, according to Dayan, agree to a course of action that asserts a falsehood and affirm claim that cannot be substantiated in order to, marvel of marvels, ‘ensure sovereignty, unity, territorial integrity and gains of a historic military victory!’

So, we give up all that or pave the way for giving it all up and then pat ourselves on the back for having not given it all up?  The key word in his argument is ‘compromise’ and ‘concessions’.  This means, that we yield something that we should not because we believe it is wrong to give it up.  It is an admission that India is being grossly unfair and so too the Tamil chauvinists; that they don’t have a case, but that anyway, we will go along with the lie because that’s the only thing we can do to stop a Libyanization.  And to make it sweeter, we can have a celebration later for having secured ‘sovereignty’, ‘territorial integrity’ and keeping intact the gains of a historic military victory! 

Dayan says ‘the final analysis is closer than one thinks’ (Dayan’s fear-mongering has a long history) and that in this final analysis, the most durable defence (apart from groveling at India’s feet) is to repair ‘internal fragility’.  Now here he may have had a point if he was on Fr. Peiris’ page, which is far more real than that which Dayan offers, ‘discontent and disaffection of the minorities’.  He then drops some names of books and personalities (again, Classic Dayan), and says the way to go is ‘to replace or transform an ethnocracy into a modern democracy’, elaborating the latter as ‘a state in which belonging to a particular ethnic group ensures you of privileges over the other inhabitants of a country; in a democracy, all citizens, whatever their origin, language, religion or customs enjoy the same rights’.

Well, we already have that to the extent that territories containing multiple ethnicities are ‘democratic’ anywhere in the world.  Carving out one-third the land mass and offering two-thirds of the coast is not ‘democratizing’, it is pandering to land-theft and expansionist intentions of chauvinists.  If this is an ‘ethnocracy’, then what is Norway, Britain, the USA, France, Pakistan, India, Bangladhes, the Maldives, Indonesia and other countries where either ethnicity or religious faith is privileged in pernicious ways that are totally absent here in Sri Lanka?  What Dayan is offering is not ‘ethnocracy to democracy’ but ‘democrazy to ethnocrazy’.  Both don’t get the general public anywhere. 

What’s most amusing about his piece and why it contrasts so much with Fr. Peiris’ comment is that he asserts that nothing can be more patriotic than his proposition.  I’ve heard people say that patriotism is the last resort of the scoundrel.  Well, looks like the scoundrel has named himself.  I believe Fr. Peiris’ piece helps undress Dayan and it came on the same section of the same edition of the same newspaper, which, tellingly carries the name ‘The Island’!  

Courtesy: The Nation - Sunday 4 September, 2011

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