Secular Sinhalese hung their heads in shame
last week as government storm-troopers
rounded up the Tamil citizenry of Colombo
and herded them into busses, to be taken to
God knows where. Young and old, shy and
bold, they were equally affected: no one was
spared. Grandmothers separated from their
grandchildren, sisters separated from their
brothers, diabetics separated from their
insulin. In scenes reminiscent of the Final
Solution, the Mahinda Chinthanaya swung into
action, leaving no one in doubt that Sri
Lanka's is a government of the racists, by
the racists, for the racists. It is but a
short step from here to requiring Tamils to
wear a mandatory arm-band with a 'T' (in
black, of course) emblazoned on it.
No one knows how many Tamil people were
bussed out of Colombo last Thursday.
Guesstimates varied from 200 to 800. The
government, however, made it known that
"20,000 Tamils have taken up lodgings
in Colombo", a clear signal that more
is to come unless the justices of the
Supreme Court (bless their hearts) continue
to step in and stop it. The government's
claims that the deportees had always wanted
to return to wherever it was they had come
from, but could never find the bus fare,
brings to mind the picture painted by the
Third Reich, of Jews stepping voluntarily
into the gas chambers of Buchenwald and
Auschwitz, arm in arm, gaily whistling Hava
Nagila.
In a sense, last Thursday must have come as a
relief to Sri Lanka's minorities. The state
has now shorn off its whiskers and made it
patently clear that this is no longer a
battle against the LTTE, or even against
terrorism: it is a battle against Tamils.
Ethnic cleansing has begun, and no Sinhalese
can be safe until the last Tamil has been
evicted from their midst.
For its part, the Rajapakse Administration,
having hidden behind a variety of colourful
euphemisms all this while, has finally come
out in the open, calling a spade a spade, a
Tamil a Tamil: the Sinhala nation can never
be safe until the Tamils in its midst have
been evicted. In doing so, and deporting
Colombo's Tamils thence, Rajapakse has
finally accepted the reality of Eelam, a
Tamil homeland in the north and east. It
defies irony that the first seed of Tamil
secession has been sown not by Pirapaharan,
but by Rajapakse. Little must Rajapakse
realise that the insult and humiliation he
cast on those citizens (most of who, no
doubt, refrained from voting in the last
presidential election so as to secure his
victory), would not lightly be forgiven or
forgotten. They aren't likely to turn the
other cheek. No one would be surprised if
many of them would in time to come number
among the LTTE's suicide cadres, determined
to get even with the Sinhalese. In a move of
almost touching imbecility, the government
has given the cause of terrorism an
unprecedented shot in the arm.
It is only a sick and cynical society that
can countenance so brazen an assault on
human rights and look the other way. It is
gratifying that all Sri Lanka's political
parties, barring the SLFP, JHU and CWC,
vociferously opposed Rajapakse's action. No
one knows what brand of Buddhism it is that
the monks of the Urumaya profess to follow,
but it is evident from their action that it
is not that advocated by the Gautama Buddha.
The CWC's silence, however, is more ominous;
evidently a signal that it's leadership
wishes to distance itself from the cause of
Tamil emancipation as a whole. After all, if
the upcountry Tamils were to be emancipated,
they'd be out of a job.
The past two years have seen Sri Lanka
slipping inexorably into an abyss of
intolerance. There is about the Rajapakse
administration a sick and fathomless
cynicism to which we run the danger of
becoming inured: blatantly false propaganda
in the state media; intimidation of the free
media; widespread abductions, disappearances
and murders with nonchalance bordering on
the blas‚. So accustomed are we to this,
that we are no longer shocked by any of it.
We take it in our stride. In doing so,
however, we need to remember that each blow
the Rajapakse Brothers deal on secularism
and liberal values is a blow against each
one of us individually. Our turn - your turn
- will come. And when it does come, who will
speak for you?
Last Thursday's events bring to mind the
words of the German theologian, Martin
Niem”ller, who in his youth was an
anti-Semite and an admirer of Adolf Hitler.
As the Nazi grasp on Germany tightened in
the 1930s, however, Niem”ller finally saw
Nazism for what it was: it was not just the
Jews Hitler had it in for, it was just about
anyone with an alternate point of view.
Niem”ller spoke out, and for his trouble
was incarcerated in the Sachsenhausen and
Dachau concentration camps from 1937 to
1945, and very nearly executed. His poignant
pose-poem appeals to those of us who might
think that just as the Rajapakse Brothers
came for the Tamils of Colombo last
Thursday, they are unlikely ever to come for
us:
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out because I was
not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out because I was
not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out because I was
not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak
out for me.
There are those among the Sinhalese who see
the Tamil question in terms of a military
victory against the LTTE. It defies reason
as to how soon they have erased from their
minds our post-independence history. Even
the JVP accepts that we must accept the
Tamils of this country as equal citizens:
they have as much historic right to this
land as the Sinhalese. From even before
independence, however, the Tamils quite
sensibly asked that the Tamil language be
given parity with Sinhala, and that the
areas in which Tamil was the predominant
language spoken be administered in Tamil.
Then, in 1956, just eight years after
independence, the Sinhalese majority fired
the first shot, making Sinhala the official
language of the state, brushing aside the
strenuous objections of the Tamils.
The passage of the Official Languages Act by
the S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike Government in 1956
was greeted with horror and shrieks of
protest by the Tamils, who were powerless to
resist, given that they were politically a
minority. They were, however, deeply
wounded, evoking in the pen of one
contemporary critic of the Act the words of
the poet John Dryden:
I'm a little wounded but I'm not slain;
I will lay me down for to bleed awhile,
Then I'll rise and fight with you again.
And it is that prophesy that we are living
today. Deporting Tamils from Colombo is not
a solution to the problem of Tamil
militancy: it is yet another cause of it.
But then again, it seems unlikely that the
works of the poet Dryden adorn the
bookshelves of Temple Trees.
From 1956, the slide into the abyss was both
steady and inexorable. The Sinhala alphabet
was introduced for car number-plates, the
national anthem was to be sung only in
Sinhala, the country's name was changed to
the Sinhala name (in law, even when spoken
or written in Tamil) and, in a bizarre
diversion from secularity, Buddhism was
awarded constitutional precedence ("the
foremost place") over any religions
Tamils might choose to espouse. So effective
were these devices in achieving their aims
that Tamils were almost totally purged from
the armed forces and reduced to trivial
minorities in the police and government
service. Added to all that were the
anti-Tamil pogroms of 1958 and 1983, in
which Tamils were burnt alive, their shops
and homes looted, and the Tamils finally
recognised the impossibility of peaceful
cohabitation with the Sinhalese.
Sinhalese people who laugh these off as
trivial pinpricks should imagine what life
would be like were the tables turned. What
if the official language of Sri Lanka were
Tamil - together with the national anthem,
car number plates etc.? What if Hinduism was
constitutionally recognised as having
"the foremost place" in our state?
What if every time you were stopped by a
policeman, he addressed you only in Tamil?
How long would you tolerate that before you
looked to extreme remedies?
What messages were the Tamils supposed to
derive from this systematic assault on their
heritage? They, after all, saw themselves as
having an equal right to be Sri Lankan (or
at any rate, Ceylonese), as the Sinhalese.
For 30 years - a generation - from 1948 to
1977, fought
for their rights through purely political
means. But the Sinhalese just did not listen
and things got steadily worse, with, for
example, J. R. Jayewardene's infamous
Constitution of 1978 and before that of
Colvin R.De Silva in 1972. Then, slowly, a
minority of Tamils concluded that parleying
with the Sinhalese was futile, and took to
arms. It was the wrong thing to do - but
then again, it was the only thing they could
do to try to get the attention of the
Sinhalese government. Then, when they did
that, rather than recognise the frustration
of the Tamil minority, successive Sri Lankan
governments chose to respond with a bullet
for a bullet.
In the last couple of years we have taken to
bombing the villages in the north that are
thought to harbour Tigers. One rarely meets
a Sri Lankan, however, who sees how utterly
bizarre this is - bombing your own people.
When the JVP attacked Colombo, did the air
force bomb Akuressa and Hambantota, its
strongholds? What would people think of a
government that bombed Sinhalese? Yet, the
Tamils are bombed daily as a matter of
routine, and not one Sinhala voice of
protest, be it ever so small, is heard. Now
we seem slowly to be discovering that there
simply are too many dissident Tamils (=
'terrorists') to kill: we are deporting them
back to their homeland.
Tragically for Sri Lanka, the Rajapakse
Brothers have neither the collective wit nor
the wisdom - there isn't, after all, a
university degree among them - to see the
struggle for Tamil emancipation for what it
is. Even if they did, so steeped in Sinhala-Buddhist
dogma are they that they could never bring
themselves to undo the original wrongs that
gave aid and succour to the cause of Tamil
militancy from 1956 to 1978.
Terrorism is horribly wrong, and there is no
gainsaying that the LTTE are a bunch of
terrorists. Moderate Tamils - if there could
persist such a breed after the events of
last Thursday - may believe there is yet
hope. But they are a minority within a
minority, and for fear of the Tigers, for
the most part mute. Thanks to Sinhala
intransigence, it is only the LTTE that is
left to negotiate with us.
And
it is time those Tamils and members of other
minorities who sit on the government benches
in parliament searched their souls for their
reasons for doing so. What truck do they
have with an administration such as that
presided over by the Rajapakses? For their
part, the Rajapakse Brothers need even now
to recognise that Tamil liberation is not a
question of law-and-order: it is a
profoundly political issue that demands
calm, mature reason and a genuine embracing
of democratic values. By adopting the
gehuwoth gahannan (if you hit, then I'll
hit) attitude he publicly espouses,
Rajapakse, as he has done from the beginning
of his presidency, is simply missing the
plot.