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Delhi's
Dilemma
For
all the success of the first five years of the J.R. Jayewardene
government, one failure stood out like a sore thumb: the failure to
appease India. Breaking the shackles of the far-left socialism of
Sirimavo Bandaranaike's despotic regime of 1970-77, Jayewardene looked
to the west, not the north, for Sri Lanka's future. Big mistake.
Mind
you, who could blame him? India was still in the clutches of the Nehru
Dynasty, with Jawaharlal's daughter Indira edging out the geriatric
Moraji Desai, a man never happier than when taking a swig of his own
urine (a beverage that soon came to be known as the Desai Punch) to take
India back into the fold of the Soviet-aligned, so-called non-aligned
world.
JR's
break with India had greater ideological significance than that. It was
a break with Gandhian socioeconomics. The Mahatma's veneration of
India's peasantry had stamped a political ethic on India from which it
was hard to break away. The economy of the ox cart that Gandhi
propounded was likely to keep India from industrialising for decades to
come. Rightly, JR opted to shake Sri Lanka free from this stranglehold
and move the country towards a market economy based on capitalist
principles.
In
that sense, JR was a breath of fresh air. Foreign aid flooded in, and
efficient ministers like Ranasinghe Premadasa, Gamini Dissanayake and
Lalith Athulathmudali were jumping through hoops pouring concrete into
housing, power, irrigation and ports. Boom time had come. Sirimavo's
excesses were remembered only through the commission that was appointed
to investigate her, that would eventually recommend the removal of her
civic rights. Sri Lanka had broken out of the orbit of Delhi and was
hurtling towards Washington. And it took only months to demonstrate to
everyone that JR was right: the grass was indeed growing greener on this
side of the Palk Straits. And to rub salt into the wound, Foreign
Minister A.C.S. (All Countries Seen) Hameed was far more often in New
York and London than ever he was in Delhi.
These
slights did not go unnoticed by Mother India. Indira Gandhi knew how to
grind an axe, and grind it exceedingly well. Her intelligence services
fed her paranoia to the full with stories of UNP plots to make Sri Lanka
the American equivalent of Cuba: a US aircraft carrier permanently
anchored off the southern tip of India.
The
euphemistically-named RAW burned the midnight oil on how to throw a
spanner in the works of their upstart neighbour to the south, and it did
not take rocket science for them to succeed. Demands for Tamil
emancipation had been growing ever since independence: RAW spat on its
hands and gleefully began arming and training a Tamil rebellion that
would bring Sri Lankan ambition to its knees.
A
decade hence, RAW's dreams came true. Even though Indira died at the
hands of rebels on her own soil, her son Rajiv was able to claim victory
over Sri Lanka, in which all-out anarchy and civil war was breaking, by
sending the IPKF in as a peace keeping force under threat of an all-out
invasion if Colombo demurred. Together with this signal triumph, Rajiv
was able to extract an odious 'accord' from Sri Lanka, in effect giving
India the right to interfere in important aspects of Sri Lanka's
sovereignty.
Premadasa's
premature ejection of the IPKF is now history. On his appointment as
prime minister, Ranil Wickremesinghe lost no time in shooting off to
Delhi to pay his salaams. In the 20 months since, it is not
insignificant that he has visited India more than any other country. RAW
might not have won for Delhi a satellite state in the south: but it has
won a neighbour with a new respect for all things Indian. And now it is
India's turn to rub salt into the wound. It has shaken off the shackles
of Gandhian social engineering and taken off on a capital-driven
industrial boom of its own. Several Indian states are now registering
economic growth rates 50% higher even that Wickremesinghe targets for
Sri Lanka. The window of opportunity Sri Lanka had to service India's
growth as Hong Kong does China's, was lost.
It
is now looking increasingly as if the Norwegian initiative to bring the
LTTE to the negotiating table has stubbed its toe. Having looked to the
West for solutions, Sri Lanka has learned the lesson once again that the
West is in this not for any love for Sri Lanka, but its own ephemeral
interest.
The
Norwegians have been little more than a rubber stamp for Tiger excess.
True, the ceasefire has held: but the Norwegians have stood idly and
cynically by even as the Tigers liquidated, in cold blood, more than a
hundred alleged 'civilian spies,' abducted upwards of 1,000 children to
serve in their militia, established camps in government-controlled areas
and continued to smuggle arms into Sri Lanka with impunity.
Nothing
expresses the cynicism of these 'donors' better than the dozens of
luxury 4x4 Land Cruiser Saharas in the parking lots of Kilinochchi, with
the bullet-ridden secondary school and the war ravaged hospital for a
backdrop. The school and the hospital could both have been completely
restored for the price of 10 of those vehicles.
The
Norwegian honeymoon in Sri Lanka is drawing to an end, with the public
coming to realise that one party to the honeymoon has presented himself
on the nuptial bed sans the apparatus with which to consummate the
marriage. The brokers of the peace are gradually distancing themselves
from the process: new stones are being turned and new avenues explored.
One of those avenues is India.
Having
been ignominiously kicked out from Sri Lanka in 1991, the Indians are
unlikely to put their foot in a cowpat a second time. What is more,
Velupillai Pirapaharan is a wanted man in India. There is no question of
Indian public opinion permitting its government to truce or parley with
the Tigers. What is more, Tamil Nadu itself has turned against Tamil
separatism in Sri Lanka, obsessed as it is with its own economic
development. When the fields are ripe with corn, few have time for
politics. Nevertheless, stability in Sri Lanka is very much on the
Indian agenda. Delhi has run with the hare and hunted with the hounds
for a quarter century, and found both these pastimes irksome. It is now
time for something different.
Next
week's visit to Sri Lanka by Indian Foreign Minister Yaswant Sinha is
therefore significant. One hopes that India will revisit the issue of
peace in Sri Lanka, though one would hope in vain for a material
intervention this time around. The likelihood is that Delhi will let
Colombo sweat a while longer, and even then offer little more than
advice and 'influence.' Anything more is likely to bring the JVP on to
the streets, as it did in 1987. But even then, there were wheels within
wheels. For all the strident anti-India protests the JVP engaged in, it
turned to RAW to smuggle out of Sri Lanka its leader, Somawansa
Amarasinghe, to escape slaughter by Premadasa. One wonders whether there
was a similar agenda behind the JVP protest outside the Norwegian
Embassy last week.
Sri
Lanka seems to have gone a full circle: we are back to the wall, with
nowhere to turn to except Delhi. Norwegian half-heartedness and LTTE
intransigence has left no choice. With the Tiger Leader on Delhi's most
wanted list however, it is unlikely that the Norwegian paradigm can
endure also with India. Delhi is rather more businesslike in its
dealings with separatists than tolerant, liberal Europeans are, and
fresh Indian involvement would be welcomed with mixed feelings by
everyone concerned.
Nevertheless,
the writing seems to be on the wall, and Delhi's dilemma is real. What
remains to be seen is the price India will demand for fresh engagement
with its troublesome southern neighbour.
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