Why should a country have more than a single version of its
national anthem? This is the question
that many are asking following President Maithripala Sirisena sanctioning the
use of the Tamil version of ‘Sri Lanka Matha’.
Those who ask this question by way of supporting the obvious answer to
the rhetorical question (‘there’s no reason to have more than one version’)
point to India’s case. India is made of
many states populated by people speaking several major languages and hundreds
of dialects and yet has one national anthem.
They also point to the fact that very few countries have more than a
single version.
While a general global trend can indicate ‘better way’ it does
not mean that all countries should necessarily fall in line. Just because federalism works for India
(according to some people) and makes sense in the USA it does not follow that
Sri Lanka should also adopt a federal model.
Just because the capitalist mode of production and a development model
that takes growth (at the cost of almost everything else including the health
of the planet) as the driver and objective of the paradigm it does not mean
that it is either good or should forbid exploration of alternatives.
What needs to be assessed is whether or not any proposal on
anything suits Sri Lanka and Sri Lankans taking into account social, political,
economic, environmental and historical factors.
It is in this context that the two-language national anthem idea needs
to be commented on.
First of all, this is not about a ‘Tamil’ national anthem that
is at odds or even different from ‘Sri Lanka Matha’ in substance or
melody. The Tamil version is not
something that was dreamed up yesterday.
It was written by the famous Tamil poet Pandithar M Nallathamby in
1950. There was no ban on singing it
until 2010. The Tamil version in no way ‘unseats’
or subtracts from the Sinhala version’s official status in the
Constitution. It must be pointed out
that Sinhala is spoken by close to 80% of the population and in effect is the
predominant ‘Link Language’ and as such few if any would say it is not logical
for the official version to be in that language. It must also be remembered that the Indian
anthem is in a minority language (Bengali), as is the Singaporean one
(Malay).
The angst that has surfaced perhaps can be attributed to
perceptions of the majority community being harangued at every turn by other
groups, for example the separatist putsch by certain sections of the Tamil
community and in-your-face identity assertion by certain Muslim groups. Be that as it may, it must be remembered that
the Sinhalese, historically, were and in a way still are a community that
privileges embrace over antagonism. The
majority of Sinhalese were not opposed to green and orange strips being
stitched to the national flag. It was
probably seen less as giving into communalists like Ponnambalam Ramanathan, GG
Ponnambalam and SJV Chelvanayakam than an acknowledgment of the rights of all Sri
Lankans for a place in Sri Lanka on all counts.
Inclusion and embrace has been the signature of the helas or the yakshas as evidenced in legend, chronicle and archeological
remains. Some might call it betrayal but
if Buddhism is the predominant philosophical idea that marks our overall
cultural ethos, in terms of doctrine and practice our ancient decision-makers
have shown great wisdom. Well, the best
of them, at least.
This is a country that has seen Sinhala kings offering land and
refuge to Muslim traders hounded by European invaders. It is a land where
kings from South India and the royal line they engendered were accepted as
‘Sinhala’ as any ‘Sinhala’ king. Hindu deities or rather their images
were accommodated in Buddhist temples.
South Indian kings were invited to rule this country; they were given
the equivalent of citizenship and they in turn saw themselves as Sinhalese and
Buddhists rather than Vadigas or Hindus.
So yes, just as the history of this island can be written in
terms of invasions, it could alternatively be written in terms of
embrace. There was and is conflict. There was and is
post-conflict. There was and there should be embrace in the ‘after’ of
bitterness and anger, suspicion and counter-suspicion, the clash of arms and sorrow,
regret and shoulder-shrug.
It takes a lot to move away from all the negatives, to move past
that which happened and which was so regrettable. There are commonalities
that can help heal all the wounds that difference differently read in such
regrettable ways inflicted on all our peoples.
This is a country where people have fought each other over faith
and identity and yet have stood together in times of tragedy. This is a
country that divided itself and fell again and again. It is a country
that can stand up and be proud. Today after thirty years of fighting each other
Sinhalese and Tamils have won the right to live without fear of explosions and
the bull rush of armies. We destroyed
much, together. Our commonality has been
reduced, for better or worse, to two things: hope and grief. We can hope together and we can grieve
together.
The Tamil version is an affirmation (in a language other than
Sinhala) of a single nation, a unitary state and a territory undivided. It affirms what is best among our better and
more enlightened citizens. It restores
in some small measure a sense of pride among Tamils, I believe, about being a
Sri Lankan and being as Sri Lankan as a Sinhalese or any other citizen. It is not and should not be read as an ‘anthem-version’
of the erroneous and much quoted (by communalists) assertion of Colvin R De
Silva (‘one language, two nations; two languages, one nation’). Life and politics is not as simple as
that.
0 comments:
Post a Comment