The story of a puppy dog, a calf and an infant

I was thinking of dogs and remembered an observation attributed to the irrepressible Ranbanda Seneviratne: ‘There was a time when if a dog died, there would be 50 people there immediately wondering whose dog it was, how it died and what needs to be done; now, if 50 people died, not a dog would be bothered.’  I believe this comment was made in those terrible UNP-JVP ‘bheeshanaya’ days at the end of the 1980s.  I don’t think that his lawyer-lyricist meant any disrespect for dogs.  A dog, after all, is ‘man’s best friend’. 

People love dogs, they pamper them and some cultures even worship them (some eat them, but that’s another story).  I don’t understand how some people can get all weepy when hearing of or seeing a dog in distress but are quite oblivious to a lot of nasty things that people do to other people, much of which is quite in-your-face when you come to think of it.  I suppose people have preferences and some prefer dogs to human beings.    As for me, I am no dog-lover but this doesn’t mean I am given to kicking or throwing stones at them. 

My dog-day began last evening when I heard a dog-story.  The dog concerned just had its first birthday.  Well, this is the first time I heard a dog having a birthday and one which was actually celebrated, but then again I am acutely aware that the universe of my ignorance is infinite.  Let me call the dog ‘Jo’ and get on with the story.

Jo, a Portuguese Water Dog (I never knew that such a breed existed but again, I am no dog-lover), had a birthday bash. I mean, Jo’s owners/family (some dog-lovers are sensitive about these distinctions, I know) celebrated the little guy’s birthday by throwing a party.  Jo got a unique birthday gift: a doghouse.  Not that Jo was homeless before, of course. Jo already had a home.  And a family. And was a celebrity in his own right. 

What was remarkable about this gift is that the doghouse was edible.  ‘Cute’ and ‘sweet’ are the exclamations that dog-lovers would respond with, I believe.  Jo’s doghouse was made of veal.

I checked ‘veal’ in the food dictionary and found that there’s more to ‘veal’ than ‘baby-calf’.  The following is an extract:

Though there are no precise age standards for veal, the term is generally used to describe a young calf from 1 to 3 months old.  ‘Milk-fed veal’ comes from calves up to 12 weeks old who have not been weaned from their mother's milk. Their delicately textured flesh is firm and creamy white with a pale grayish-pink tinge.  ‘Formula-fed veal’ can come from calves up to about 4 months old, fed a special diet of milk solids, fats, various nutrients and water; it is not as rich or delicate  because there’s no milk-fat in the diet.  ‘Bob veal’ refers to calves younger than 1 month old. Their pale, shell-pink flesh is quite bland and the texture is soft. In all true veal, the animals haven't been allowed to eat grains or grasses, either of which would cause the flesh to darken. Calves between 6 and 12 months old are called ‘baby beef’, and have flesh that's coarser, stronger-flavored and from pink to light red in color. The USDA (United States Department of Agriculture) grades veal in six different categories; from highest to lowest they are Prime, Choice, Good, Standard, Utility and Cull. The last three grades are rarely sold in retail outlets. When choosing veal, let color be your guide. The flesh should be creamy white — barely tinged with grayish-pink — and the fat white. Meat that's pink turning red means the so-called "veal" is older than it should be. Veal's texture should be firm, finely grained and smooth. 

I was stunned by my ignorance.  I am not what kind of veal Jo’s ‘doghouse’ was made of, but at this point it does not matter.  It’s just a calf. A baby.  Even younger than Jo.  Some would say ‘extravagant’ given that veal is expensive, but then again if it’s available and is affordable to ‘the family’, one can’t find fault with the amount of money spent.  That a lot of people in this world are starving is beside the point. We can’t ourselves starve because others are and/or we can’t feed them all. 

Jo didn’t have a choice. Jo didn’t ask for veal and probably didn’t know where his ‘doghouse’ came from, and nothing of course of the process from the womb of a cow to the ‘family garden’ or wherever the birthday party was held.  The ‘family’ knew, though. The family didn’t really care. 

I know of course that different cultures have different tastes and food preferences, even in this globalized world we live in.  Some kill and consumer because there is no other way to survive.  Some kill for sport.  Some kill and consume even when there are a million other forms of food available, different in taste perhaps but equally nutritious.  Who am I to impose on another culture the key defining values of my culture?  Who am I to say that the life of a fellow creature is as precious as that of a fellow human being?  Who am I to tell Jo what he should or should not eat?  But are talking about a calf and one that may have not been weaned from its mother’s milk.  It shook me up and all the relativist and arguments that reference the culture-specific aspect of food preference could not console me.

If we forget for a moment the relative character of the value we assign to various species, if we assume that all creatures, sharing our will to live and fear of death, have an equal right to live on this earth (which does not belong to our species, although we do a lot of buying, selling and killing over it), then we could think along the following (brutal) lines.

A human mother gives birth to an infant.  That infant is separated from her mother and put on a special diet for a few weeks.  The infant is then slaughtered and her body parts displayed in a supermarket, neatly packed in a freezer.  A few hours later, a lion walks in, looking for an appropriate gift for its cub, who is going to celebrate a birthday.  The lion picks up the ‘tender’ meat (say, a couple of kilos), goes home, makes a ‘cave’ out of it and offers it to the cub saying in lion-lingo, ‘happy birthday son’.  

Gross?  Yes.  Need I say more?

*This was first published exactly 5 years ago in the 'Daily News', to which paper I wrote a daily column titled 'The Morning Inspection'

Malinda Seneviratne is the Editor-in-Chief of 'The Nation' and can be reached at msenevira@gmail.com

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The world is rearranged by silhouettes

There are times when we wonder if things are as they really seem.   Think of something. Think of just one thing.  Let’s say…hmmm…a coconut tree you can see from your window.  If there’s no coconut tree, think of whatever tree you can see from your window.  If there are no trees then think of whatever you can see, even if it is a blank wall. 

Now here’s an exercise.  Look out of the window the moment you wake up (it is better if it is before sunrise).  Remember what you see.  Then look again when the first light touches the world around you and of course the tree (or whatever it is) that’s outside your window.  Return to your window from time to time throughout the day.  Does it look the same?  Are the colors the same?  Check out if the shape is the same.  Remember that things look and feel different when they are perfectly still and when they are moving in the wind.  If it’s a light breeze the leaves will rustle but if it is stormy weather, rain and wind will make things dance. 

What is the color of that thing outside your window when the sun moves over the horizon?  What does it look like at dusk?  Look again just before you go to bed.  Same? Different?  And if you happen to wake up in the middle of the night, look out of your window again.  

The leaves of a giant mango tree look so different in the middle of the night.  If there’s a bit of moonlight, it gives a silver edge to leaves, branches and the tree itself.  If there’s only faint light because it is a cloudy night, there won’t be silver, but you will still find patterns.   

Nights are about silhouettes.  The leaves of the mango tree from a certain distance will look like an intricate patter in lace.  The leaves of the kohomba will look like different.  A different pattern in lace.  A different embroidery. 

Night removes depth from objects.  Things merge.  Roofs with treetops, bridges with buildings, houses with houses, walls and tree trunks, wires and vines.  You see things in bunches.  And in the bunching, there are patterns and images.  There are faces and animals, dragons and gargoyles.  There are angels too. 

Things are not the same when the light that fall on them changes in intensity.  Things are not the same when they are moved by breezes of different strengths.  Things are not the same when we see them at different times. 

And at night, all things change and the world seems to have been rearranged and renamed.  And it is a beautiful thing. 

 * This is the ninth article in a series I am writing for the JEANS section of 'The Nation'.  The series is for children. Adults consider yourselves warned...you might re-discover a child within you! 

Other articles in this series

How would you paint the sky?
It is cool to slosh around
You can compose your own music
Pebbles are amazing things
You can fly if you want to
The happiest days of our lives
So what do you want to do with the rain?

Still looking for that secret passage?

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Recruiting for a rebellion

One person is not a front.  Sometimes a single person can make a big difference, but if you want radical social transformation that (hopefully) lasts, you will need some pals.  The problem is that when you do need people, they are not there or they are not ready to ‘take the streets’.  Issues have a way of arriving when we least expect them.  Therefore it is not easy to anticipate and plan when it comes to objection and protest.  You turn around and you find yourself alone. 

So what do we do?  We post a protest-notice as an ‘event’ on Facebook, email, share, invite, tweet the works.   There’s a lot of cheering.  A lot of ‘likes’ and ‘shares’.  A lot of people will say ‘I will be there’.  As you get closer to the event you get some comments such as ‘I will be there in spirit’.  Come event and you wonder what happened to the cheering squad. 

When conditions mature towards what could be called ‘a revolutionary moment,’ friends become comrades, association based on similar likes and dislikes turns into association marked by shared political believes and ideological preferences.  But ‘revolutionary moment’ is something that takes years to mature.  Only very few would design their lives in anticipation of such a moment.  In general people not only have multiple personalities but have multiple interests, politics and ‘rebelling’ being just a couple of aspects among dozens of ‘concerns’.  So how do you ‘recruit’?

There’s no easy answer.  And there’s no ‘perfect answer’ either.  But there’s something people tend to forget.  In politics, what really, really counts is often assumed to be shared believes or rather similar outcome preference, and ideological agreement.  Something that is often discounted is the fact that people join people, people stand with other people, not just on account of political loyalties but rather personal friendship.  You like someone, trust him/her, believe him/her to be a good person, and you are more likely to stand with him/her.  If you don’t like someone, similarly, you might be reluctant to join him/her in a demonstration even if you were in agreement with the relevant politics. 

Of course this is not to say that people don’t factor in their own political preferences when deciding to join others.  They do.  Saying ‘comrade’ is not the same as ‘feeling’ comrade.  People will follow and stand by those who think they way they do, but when it comes to crunch point, that place where the faint-hearted pause  or second-guess themselves, that’s when both leader and the led are tested.  That’s when courage comes into play.  And that’s when the heart of the leader gets factored in.  He or she is followed not just because he or she is thought to be doing the right thing but because he or she is seen as a good person, a person of heart and a person who deserves to be supported. 

In the late eighties, not all students, including those who considered themselves ‘radical’, supported the student movement, which was essentially an arm (a pawn?) of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna.  And yet, even those who ideologically opposed the student movement would on occasion march with the leaders or join in some awareness-creating campaign.  Why?  People the particular leader making the request was considered to be honest, good and even ‘pure’. 

It is not something that’s easy to cultivate and it would sound silly to cultivate goodness or heart just to help along some political project that might be picked at some point.  But there is virtue and profit in being good.  In being honest.  In being a person of word.  In being generous.  In being a friend regardless of the other person’s political beliefs.  Most importantly, in being all these things with ‘recruitment’ being the last thing on your mind. 

Then, when ‘moment’ comes and you look around, friend will find it easier to become comrade, enemy will be neutralized or at least reluctant to fight you.  In the end, the world is changed for the better by good people who are prompted to go an extra mile at critical moments. 

Why do people like ‘Che’?  Why do people like Bob Marley?  Why did people like Vijaya Kumaratunga?  Why was Sarath Muttetuwegama’s untimely death lamented by people across the political spectrum?  Why would you follow one person and not another? 

Goodness.  It counts. 

This is the ninth in a series of articles on rebels and rebellion written for the FREE section of 'The Nation'.  'FREE' is dedicated to youth and youthfulness.

Dear Rebel, 'P' is also for 'Proportion' 

Dear Rebel, have you got the e-factor out of the way?

Have you carefully considered the f-word?

It is so easy to name the enemy, right?

The p-word cuts both ways

Cards get reflected in eyes, did you know?

It's all about timing 

Heroes and heroism are great, but...

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Dear Percy, your Membership Card is ready*

Yep, you touched it up nicely. We own it though.  But we feel generous.  Come join us.  Membership is yours, if you want.

There’s a cluster of caste-based villages off the Kurunegala-Anuradhapura (via Ella) road, about three kilometers from Galgamuwa when you are going towards Thambuttegama.  I read somewhere that although there were several castes the villages themselves didn’t contain them.  There would be kumbal or potter-caste people who lived in the geographical area that was generally taken to be ‘govi-land’ or territory associated with the farmer/farming caste and vice versa.  And yet if you asked one of these mis-residence people which village they belonged to, they would immediately name the village associated with their respective caste. 

It’s the same with Kolombians.  We are not all from Colombo 3 or Colombo 7 and not all of us live in these two areas of the city with lush avenues and fine architecture.  We don’t have to.  We just have to identify ourselves and be identified in return as authentic Kolombians.  It’s about the clubs we frequent. It’s about our English pronunciation.  It’s about who we know and who are ready to claim they know us.  We could be living in Mt Lavinia or Kaduwela, Athurugiriya or Wattala, Galle or Kandy, but if we have that Col 3/7 way about us, we are members.  If we don’t, we are yakkos.  Simple. 

We don’t like Mahinda.  Well, we do benefit from what he does, but we don’t like him.  It’s not about the schools he attended or where he was born; it’s about who his friends are, his English proficiency and a certain lack of Kolombian elegance about him.  All this we could have suffered; after all Ranasinghe Premadasa was not a Kolombian and we didn’t mind him at all. 

Our problem right now is that we can’t find a good enough reason to support Mahinda.  We can’t convince ourselves that he is some kind of Kolombian adjunct or an ‘associate member’.  If we could, then we wouldn’t have this headache.  We would love to support the guy but instead we are in a situation where we have to support someone like Ranil Wickremesinghe.

I’ve spent so many sleepless nights thinking of stuff that begin with ‘if only…’  Just the other day, I thought to myself, ‘what if Mahinda became a Kolombian?’  I asked myself ‘can’t we give him honorary membership?’  I thought to myself, ‘if only that had Mahinda chosen to go with his middle name, Percy, life would have been so much nicer’.  The name counts.  ‘Don Stephen’ as well as his son ‘Dudley’ were Nobodies but they did become ‘Somebodies’ (another word for Kolombians according to our political-cultural dictionary).  I believe the process is called ‘Sanskritization’ where you acquire the habits, customs and other ways of the community/class you want to join.  They worked hard.  In fact if you traced the ancestry of any random Kolombian you will find that we all had an ancestor who was a Nobody who somehow became a Somebody. 

This is the problem with Mahinda.  He’s just not interested in becoming a Somebody.  He never wanted to be called Percy.  That’s one bus he missed.   He could have surrounded himself with some Kolombians.  Some Kolombianness would have invariably have rubbed off on him.  Had he started in 2005, he would not only have become a Kolombian, we would have hailed him as the most celebrated Kolombian ever.  Another bus he missed. 

Mahinda is a Somebody but he’s not a Kolombian.  We’d rather have a Nobody who is a Kolombian if we can’t have a Kolombian-Somebody (whether or not he was a Nobody before) but there’s no one who can fit the bill.   And then that Kolombian Wannabe Akila Viraj calls him a Baiya and Mahinda, true to form, embraces it!  Why does he have to go out of his way to ruin his chances of getting Kolombian Citizenship?  It’s a green card that’s his for the taking and the man insists on doing everything to ensure he doesn’t get it.  Doesn’t he get it?  

Other articles in this series:

The Bourse is ours!

You name it, Kolombians own it

We shall not be re-named
Get off my walkway! 
Thank you Mahinda for the Avacado Prawns!

English is a feel-good thing na?
*Everyone takes note.  Some keep notes.  Some in diaries and journals.  Some in their minds and hears.  Some of these are shared via email or on Facebook or blog; some are not.  Among these people are Kolombians, people from Colombo who know much -- so much that they are wont to think that others don't know and can't think.  This is the sixth in a series published in 'The Nation' under the title 'Notes of an Unrepentant Kolombian'.

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The Jathika Hela Urumaya decides

The Jathika Hela Urumaya (JHU) made a decision.  The party decided that those who hold various positions in the government will resign forthwith.  The party further decided that it will remain in Parliament as part of the ruling UPFA coalition. The party reserved the right to decide on a course of action in the event a presidential election is called, whether in such circumstances it would field its own candidate or support a ‘common opposition candidate’. 

The JHU made this move without a presidential election being called.  It did so before the Opposition came up with a ‘common candidate’.  As such it is a preemptive move as much as it is anything else.  How did they arrive at this juncture?  Well, IN A PARALLEL UNIVERSE they would divulge stuff.  Here’s what a pre-announcement conversation might have been like.

‘We cannot support Mahinda this time,’ Ven Athureliye Rathana thundered. 

‘Yes, you’ve said that many times, ape haamuduruwane,’ Udaya Gammanpila observed.  He added, ‘In fact you have with your caustic statements which have not been sanctioned by the party, trapped us into a process we can’t turn back from!’

‘You tell me, Udaya, on what grounds we can support a Government and a President that has failed to deliver on promises made on two occasions.  This time also they have promised.  We would look fools if we believed them.  So even if I was silent this is what we would have to do,’  Ven Rathana Thero defended himself.

‘What’s happened has happened.  We have to look ahead,’ Ven Omalpe Sobitha Thero wanted to infuse some sobriety to proceedings. 

‘Ok.  Let’s recap.  There is talk of a presidential election but it has not been announced.  The Opposition seems confused and unable to come up with a name that is acceptable to all stakeholders.  There’s no guarantee that the candidate they pick would be someone we can support.  If it is Ranil, then we can either boycott or field our own candidate.  If it is Karu, we could consider supporting him.  If it is…’ Champika Ranawaka wasn’t allowed to finish the sentence.

‘There’s no one else worth considering,’  Nishantha Sri Warnasinghe said. 

‘Correct,’ Champika continued.  ‘There are too many factors that are out of our control in this equation, I feel.’

‘Exactly!  That’s why we should not bother about those other factors,’  Ven Rathana Thero showed agitation and excitement quite at odds with the content of his bana deshana. 

‘That’s easy to say. We have to think about our political future,’  Udaya said.

‘Your political future?’  Nishantha asked with a sly grin. 

‘No, no, no.  The party’s political future.  The future of the Sinhala Buddhist nationalist movement.  Our ideology, out party constitution,’  Udaya quickly pressed his ‘political correctness’ button. 

‘The truth is we have no choice now.  True, we really didn’t expect the SLFP to jump up in joy about our proposals.  We know Basil, Dullas and others well enough to know what they want and how they calculate.  It was a proposal they just could not accept at this point.  The truth is we didn’t have a choice when we submitted the proposals either and that’s not because Rathana Haamuduruwo’s Pivithuru Hetak operations.  Anyway, now we have to make something out of this,’  Champika said.

And so they went into a long huddle.  And decided to call a press conference to announce the decision of the party. 

Late that night, ‘the team’ met up again at the Sadaham Sevana to assess the outcome.

Everyone seemed to be in a good mood. 

‘We ended up positioning ourselves ahead of the Opposition,’ Champika observed. 

‘Early days, though,’  as always Ven Omalpe Sobitha Thero’s was the voice of reason and calmness. 

‘I think Mahinda must be pleased,’  Udaya was going with “may all beings be happy,” one would think.   “After all, by taking a stand we are showing up the Opposition.  Their indecision and confusion seems even bigger now.  Therefore the gap between Mahinda and Whoever has expanded.’

‘But that makes us and our decision non-factors if there’s a presidential election, right?’  Nishantha was curious. 

‘Well, we don’t really hate Mahinda, do we?  We just don’t like him.  As long as the JHU acquires new value that can translate into a better performance in a General Election, why should we worry about Mahinda being re-elected?’  Udaya argued.

‘Hmmm….’ said Champika Ranawaka softly. 

‘We have only started!’  Ven Rathana was not ready to do a sit-back-watch. 

‘We started a long time ago and we have quite a long way to go,’  Ven Omalpe Sobitha Thero said quietly. 

 See also:

Mahinda-Maithree and the hour of the voter

Maithripala: King in Waiting or Ranil's Pawn

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Mahinda-Maithree and the hour of the voter

After weeks of speculation the Opposition has come up with a name.  A solid one too.  Maithripala Sirisena.  It’s a name calculated to split the major partner of the ruling coalition, i.e. the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP).  Some MPs have already crossed over. Other defections are on the cards.  It is a time of speculation, of risks and of calculations. 

It boils down to ‘winnability’.  In an ‘iffy’ situation the risk is naturally greater.  The ruling coalition will not twiddle thumbs.  The initial surprise and of course dismay will soon shift to closing of ranks, damage control and eventually counter-punch; the last literally as well, if the antics of a UPFA strong-man in Kalutara on Friday (immediately after Maithripala announced his candidacy) are anything to go by. 

Already sweet sounding terms such as good governance, democracy, rule of law, constitutional change, abolishing of the executive presidency etc., are sounding hollow as people unable to contain individual ambition talk of ‘high posts’ in a post-Mahinda scenario.  Maithripala’s first press conference as candidate lost a lot of gloss when it became as much a candidacy announcement as it was a blueprint regarding Ranil Wickremesinghe’s political future (read 'Maithripala: King in Waiting or Ranil's Pawn').  It was also, as Dayan Jayatilleka argues well in an article titled ‘The Sirisena surge and why Mahinda is still way ahead,’ about Rajitha Senaratne unrolling his political autobiography and Chandrika Kumaratunga’s ‘prolonged and self-justificatory lamentation’. 

Early setbacks notwithstanding the coming weeks will see intense politicking by both parties and their respective backers because everyone involved has much to win and a lot of lose.  It’s investment time, clearly.  The problem is that if you just count Parliament, there can only be 224 ministers.  People can speculate of course, but people must understand that there will be hundreds of others who will also be calculating. 

It is in this context that it makes sense for politicians at lower levels (provincial councils for example) to think money instead of position. The going rate for a provincial councilor is said to have moved up from Rs 10 million to Rs 25-35 million.  Rest assured, those ‘on offer’ will be going the way of the highest bidder.  It goes without saying that those who are ready to bribe will not be averse to take bribes in return.  This being the case, we can take the democracy rhetoric out of the equation. It is not about lofty ideas.  It’s about personal glory. Perks. Frills.  Tidbits.  As has always been the case, one might add.  

Those in power will not let go.  Those out of power want it badly.  The voter has to choose between such persons.  Track records will come into play.  Personalities too.  Friends of each candidate will be looked at closely.  What is promised will be considered.  Gratitude will come into play.  Punishment for wrongs done will also be factored in.  The crimes and virtues of coalition partners will not be forgotten.  There will be talk of devils, known and unknown.  Some will weigh the virtues of political stability against the need to correct flawed structures.  ‘Doability’ will be assessed.  All this in the coming weeks. 

And there will be those who will try to convince, cajole, trick, intimidate and cheat the voter.  And there will be those who will be suckered into voting for those who promise the undeliverable, those who auction non-existing resources and those who promise heaven over hell or heaven over a would-be hell as the case may be. 

It is an exciting time, no doubt.  All the more reason to be alert.  Politicians, after all, are made of promises.  This is the month of the voter.  Let the voter strive to be a hard purchase. 

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Maithripala: King in Waiting or Ranil's Pawn?

Early days.  Remember that.  Keep in mind also that in a 40-day run each day counts and that ‘early’ can quickly bleed into ‘late’ and ‘too late’.  That said, let’s consider Maithripala Sirisena’s press conference on Friday November 20, 2014 where he announced he would be the ‘common candidate’ of the Opposition.  

‘මෛත්‍රී පාලනයක්’ [‘Maithree Paalanayak,’ meaning ‘Compassionate Governance’].  What a wonderful signature for a campaign!  Pithy.  Easy on the tongue.  Captures the entire thrust of the project.  Contrasts itself from what the principal opponent is identified with.  Brilliant. 

The candidate is not without credentials.  A long-time party loyalist who enjoys considerable support from the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, Maithripala Sirisena has more appeal from a wider cross section of the voting population than the other contenders, Karu Jayasuriya, Ranil Wickremesinghe and Sajith Premadasa (in that order).  The opening remarks, prefaced by a Dhammapada quote, struck the right note.  There was sobriety.  There was humility.  There was purpose.  He sounded presidential.  Then it all went downhill.

It didn’t help that he was flanked by two discredited politicians.  Chandrika Kumaratunga, Victor Ivan will remember, earned the sobriquet චෞර රැජින (The Queen of Deceit).  In eleven years, she not only deceived, but presided over violations not second to any she charges the Mahinda Rajapaksa regime with, not to mention a sorry track record with regard to handling the scourge of terrorism.  Rajitha Senaratne is hardly a heavyweight any more.  Still, it was the ‘Maithree Moment’ and naturally the cameras didn’t pan to those two has-beens. 

All he needed to do was thank those who made his candidacy possible, outline his objectives and leave.  He tried to do more and ended up doing less.  The biggest blunder was to pledge the Prime Minister’s post to Ranil Wickremesinghe.  Unnecessary.  Distracting. And anyway, if it was all about dishing out jobs in a post-Mahinda Sri Lanka, why make such a song and dance about it? 

In essence, Maithripala was saying something like this: ‘Ranil can’t beat Mahinda. I have a better shot.  I will win, step down and hand over executive power to Ranil’.  Now if this was a project to promote Ranil, then the question is, ‘Why on earth is Ranil not contesting?’  Maithripala seeks to win a mandate to rule from the people.  It is not a transferable asset.  If democracy underlines this project (as he claims), then it would go against the basic tenets of the idea.  The UNP, let us not forget, is a party that couldn’t come up with a credible candidate. Not in 2010 and not in 2014/15.  Rewarding the leader of such a party is කඩේ යෑම (shopping, or acting like a domestic aide who does someone’s bidding) to use a Sinhala term that has a lot of political currency.  It is as though the වලව්වේ හාමුදුරුවෝ  (Lord of the Manor) is getting a village boy to pluck some coconuts which he, the Lord, will then sell and deposit the money in a bank.

He could have elaborated on the notion of an interim arrangement or a ‘national government’ that presides over constitutional reform and thereafter seek fresh mandate through a General Election. Instead, he reduced what is essentially a regime-changing exercise into an individual’s political project.  He dwarfed himself.  And his dwarfing got worse when Chandrika had her say.  Hers was an unqualified lament of the worst kind.  There was no මෛත්‍රී there.  There was වෛරය (hatred) and clear revenge-intent.  Hardly the stuff that could bowl the electorate over.  

Now contrast this with an alternative head table composition where the candidate is flanked by Anura Kumara Dissanayake (JVP), either Champika Ranawaka or Ven Athureliye Rathana Thero (JHU), Ranil and/or Karu Jayasuriya.  That’s formidable.  In contrast, what was ‘on show’ on Friday was pathetic.   Such a panel would indicate the forces arrayed against Mahinda Rajapaksa.  What was on show was a bunch of disgruntled incompetents. 

Maithripala has to look and sound presidential and he doesn’t have too much time to do so. He has to re-articulate the project in clear democratic terms where individuals and their petty political objectives are completely left out of the story.  He has to drop his liabilities.  It is clear that Chandrika Kumaratunga, motivated by whatever, played a crucial role in this maneuver which some people already call ‘a coup’ (a bit early for that).  That’s it.  Her role is over.  At least in the public eye.  Someone commented on Facebook, ‘each time she speaks Maithri loses 10,000 votes’.  That’s exaggeration and not a substantiated claim, but that sentiment does have currency.  Yes, she can address a particular voter segment.  The problem is that when she addresses them, there are others listening. 

Early days. He can still re-constitute his head-table, so to speak.  Maithripala likened Ven Athureliye Rathana Thero to Kudapola Hamuduruwo, acknowledging the key role the thero played in the political upheavals that culminated in him being nominated as the ‘common candidate’.  Now if you have Kudapola Hamuduruwo backing you, it would be plain stupid not to get the Hamuduruwo on stage.  

Similarly, if he thinks an appeal to the SLFP and UNP voter in the form of clinging on to Chandrika’s sari pota and promising Ranil the premiership would do the trick, he’s sadly mistaken.  Voice-cut politics won’t deliver anything.  There’s a campaign to be carried out on the ground and the likes of Harsha De Silva, Eran Wickramaratne and Rosie Senanayake will not do it.  Maithripala needs active JVP support (meaning, not the lukewarm hurrahs that party gave Sarath Fonseka).  

You can have 50 MPs crossing over, but unless they become campaign foot soldiers, that’s just 50 votes you are assured of.  A general sway on the ground will not necessarily follow these political defections.  Hard, tough, persistent campaigning at the grassroots is non-negotiable.  And here the JVP will be a significant factor.  Remember, also, that it would be wrong to ‘use’ the JVP.  They must have a central role in the campaign and they must have prominence in the post-election phase in the event that Maithripala wins.  You can’t promise Ranil the premiership, Chandrika her pound of flesh and toss some crumbs the JVP way. 

 Maithripala Sirisena has a case.  There is widespread disappointment and even objection to the regime.  It’s not about Mahinda Rajapaksa alone.  He is liked. Widely.  Despite his faults.  It is not about the Rajapaksas alone.  Gotabaya and Basil may be resented by senior members of the SLFP, less for wrongdoing than for what they effectively deny.  Few would deny that they work really hard.  It is the Rajapaksavarun (let’s say ‘the Rajapaksa hangers-on’) that are mostly resented.  ‘Intensely’ would be the correct word.  There are not necessarily blood relatives.  It’s the Mervins, Sajins, Dumindas, Rohitha and the countless thugs and thieves in Parliament, Provincial Councils and Local Government Authorities that are insufferable. 

‘What is the President’s greatest strength and what is his biggest weakness?’ is a question to which a retired soldier who now works as a driver and who even today says he will give his life to Mahinda Rajapaksa responded as follows: ‘ලෙන්ගතු කම. හොරු ටිකක් වටකර ගෙන ඉන්න එක’ (his affability or warmth and the fact that he has surrounded himself with rogues).  On Friday night, one of these worthies shot at a political opponent.  That’s not a ‘first’.  It is just one of countless examples of thuggery to which the President has for whatever reason turned a blind eye and thereby creating, reinforcing and perpetuating a culture of impunity. 

That said, incumbency, gratitude for defeating terrorism (which Maithripala himself acknowledged) and sheer personal charm, not to mention all the usual tweak-n-abuse we see at election time, makes Mahinda a tough candidate to defeat.   Maithripala cannot afford to dwarf himself (vis-à-vis Ranil and Chandrika).  He has to understand that the President has almost full control of the state and private media.  In fact, Maithripala has to see himself as the Mahinda Rajapaksa of 2005 and of course see his opponent as the Ranil Wickremesinghe of that same election.  Mahinda won.  Barely.  He did so because all the money that Ranil could pour into his campaign was effectively countered by the one asset that Maithri can secure: the people.  Mahinda could do this because of the JVP.  Numbers. Active. Spirit.  He could do that because he had in the JHU someone who could write his manifesto (Champika Ranawaka).  Mahinda had Wimal, but that was a different Wimal.

‘Early days’, true.  They can fast turn into ‘too late’.  If that happens, Maithripala would be another Sarath Fonseka.  Ranil would remain Leader of the UNP.  A winner all the way.  

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"Kasurige Kolama": more than a collection of laughs

Former Editor, Silumuna, Karunadasa Suriyarachchi (better known by his byline 'Kasuri') passed on recently.  This is a review of a collection of his widely read column in the Irida Divaina, 'Kasurige Kolama' written ten years ago and published in the Sunday Island of April 18, 2004.  Posting by way of tribute to his skill as a writer.

Kasurige Kolama, by Karunadasa Suriyarachchi, author publication, 229 pp. Rs. 250.00.

Reviewed by Malinda Seneviratne

I know people who buy the Irida Divaina just to read Harith Gunawardena’s "King Barnet" column and/or Karunadasa Suriyarachchi’s "Kasurige Kolama" (Kasuri’s Column). I know others who use these particular columns as kinds of entry points to the paper in general. Always entertaining, always touching on something that has currency, these pieces have a way of preparing the reader for the more serious analyses found elsewhere by sharpening perceptions and alerting him/her to the subtext of a given political reading. Indeed, the Irida Divaina is privileged to have two competent exponents of the art of political satire.

Yes, Kasuri’s Kolama has earned him a wide readership over the years. All his contributions are light enough to make even those who thrive on and demand "serious" political analysis smile. They also educate. Both the reader and the subject of his wit, if he/she has the humility and good sense not to be insulted. Neat juxtaposition, satirical ballooning and snide commentary, these are the main tools of the satirist and Kasuri employs them to good effect. He has, over the years, developed a certain finesse in his scathing attacks on event and personality, achieving a good balance between critique and humour. This is what makes him eminently readable and politically potent.

I can’t remember the name of the poet, but I remember this line very well: "My poetry is like the bread of Egypt; night passes over it and you can eat it no more". This is something that the political satirist knows well. Let go of the moment, and it will not come back again. Not in the same way, not at the same strength. The successful satirist is one who seizes the political moment, not hard and not too loosely either. He/she holds it delicately in the fingers of his/her mind and crafts a story that simultaneously unwraps the political, sheds it of grandeur and rhetoric. At the end of the exercise, the subject is left naked, stripped of all disguise. Anything less and the column falls flat on its face.

I believe anyone with a modicum of political awareness and a generous dash of creativity can be satirical. Your random man in the street is an excellent satirist. What separates the occasional joker from the consummate wit, I believe, is the ability to be consistently creative and to be able to pick the right topic at the right time. Kasuri, in this respect, stands above the crowd.

A collection of his contributions stands well in any library, no doubt. The problem with such a gathering however is that a political column of this sort is dated. Like the bread of Egypt. While there are timeless gems, these are always rare, which is after all why they are valuable. In general, Kasuri’s "Kolama" has to be read then and there. When next week comes along, it is old. It is weak. Not his fault, it is but the congenital disease of the genre. Dies a quick death. A book, therefore, is always feeble. Not everyone remembers the context. The tone and colour of the statement the columnist takes apart has suffered inevitable fading. The reader is as a result unable to appreciate fully the writer’s creativity and wit.

Still, this is not to say that one is left incapable of grasping something of the author’s mind and its workings. The things he/she likes, dislikes, finds repugnant, humorous and preposterous, can be obtained, if only in fragment. The column has always been a quick read, and so is the book. For those who are familiar with the column, it comes with the promise of great entertainment. Kasuri doesn’t fail you. He gives you familiar personalities in the grotesque versions they themselves reveal. He gives you familiar events that make us realise what kind of suckers we all are.

A long time ago, a friend of mine took issue with Kasuri’s "Kolama". He admitted that Kasuri makes us laugh but complained that his ultimate effect is to lessen our sorrow (duka thunee karana eka) and thereby immunize us to accepting tyranny. "Kasuri apata uththarayak denne na"(Kasuri does not provide us with an answer), he said. Does he have to? Aren’t we all thinking people? If the satirist shows us fault lines, can’t we use our strength to prise them open? Must the satirist do everything? I firmly believe people should do what they are good at. If everyone did it, the totality proceeds along beneficial directions. Kasuri does his part. To the best of his ability. He makes us laugh. That itself is a positive.

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