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“Protecting” people for whom you have no feelings
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Mahinda Rajapakse |

How
can white people (“suddan”) who come from abroad have
feelings of concern (“kekkumak”) about the people of
this country that I don’t have? The protection of my
people is my responsibility.” — President Mahinda
Rajapakse, Embilipitiya, April 30, 2009, quoted in the
Divaina of May 1, 2009.
The
President’s statement possesses an amazing logic and a
wonderful honesty, made more powerful because neither
the structure of the argument nor the nature of its
substance is intended. The sentiments expressed,
moreover, are deplorable and shocking, both for their
callous majoritarian ethnocentrism and for their
megalomaniacal arrogance.
In
effect, he asks majestically, speaking from Embilipitiya
on April 29th, ‘if I do not feel in this way for the
people of the north (who are my own), how can foreigners
feel for them?’ I believe the point he is making is that
the concern of these vocal foreigners, ostensibly on
behalf of the IDPs and civilians trapped in the war
zone, is false and contrived.
He
alleges that these outsiders are agitating on behalf of
the civilians to fulfill ulterior motives and on the
basis of hidden agendas. The proof he adduces is that if
he cannot and does not feel such concern for these
civilians, who are his own, how can outsiders have any
real feelings for these people? The expression “my
people” takes on an ominous sense of ownership here, as
if they are property to be disposed of at will.
Need to examine
There
are a number of admissions, assumptions and implications
in the President’s statement that need to be examined.
First and most importantly, is his admission that he
feels no concern for these civilians. The President of
Sri Lanka, the Head of State for the whole country and
not merely a part of it, has gone on record in words of
one syllable – so there can be no confusion or
misunderstanding – that he feels nothing for the welfare
of a significant section of the population that he
represents and leads. A section of the population,
moreover, that he claims (sole) responsibility over.
Very
telling, indeed. No, more than this. It is more
spine-chilling than a vintage Hitchcock film, because
this truth, now in the open, has threatened the very
foundations of our unitary state. Not only is he
stating that he does not feel concern for these
civilians himself, he is denying the validity of anyone
else feeling for them either.
The
argument goes like this: I (as the most legitimate
person) do not have the kind of feelings that these
foreigners claim to have, and therefore these feelings
that they claim to have cannot be real or legitimate.
This
is not a surprise, of course, since the past actions of
this government have demonstrated, unequivocally and
repeatedly, that it does not care a hoot about the lives
and safety of the civilians trapped in the conflict
area. What is surprising is the blatant, unequivocal
expression of this callous lack of concern, which cannot
be accepted from a head of state, even from a
godforsaken country such as this.
Propaganda
During
the past week or so we have been deluged by media
propaganda of “rescued” and “grateful” IDPs and other
civilians, demonstrating government concern and military
humanitarianism. Now the cat is out of the bag, and we
know that this is a sham: by a simple extension of the
President’s argument, all the President’s men cannot
feel legitimate concern for these people, when he
himself doesn’t.
In
order to establish the mala fide nature of foreign
agitation on behalf of the displaced and injured, the
President has exposed his own views on this vexed and
vexing subject. In his exasperation and anger at the
persistence of these foreign “busy bodies,” he has
thrown caution to the winds, laid down his guard, giving
voice to the unsayable: the Head of State does not
really care for the people that he claims to be
liberating from the yoke of LTTE tyranny.
Oops,
the truth is out. It’s a slip, unintentional,
unfortunate, undeniable now, and, from a Head of State,
alas, unforgiveable.
The
President has made it irrevocably clear that he does not
treat or feel for all the citizens of this country in
equal measure. He goes even further by denying the
validity of others to feel for a group of people trapped
and traumatised by the way he dismisses the feelings of
all foreigners who do so. He invokes the crudest
nationalist demagoguery and xenophobia in ridiculing the
legitimate concerns of international humanitarian
organisations and UN bodies for the safety and security
of a section of the population of this country.
No concern
Yet,
over these people for whom he does not care, he claims
ownership, and pulls rank. He admits responsibility over
them, but negates the validity of concerns for their
wellbeing. As pointed out in this column in previous
weeks, he has expressed no concern himself for the
civilians, and now we know exactly why: he has no
concern to express.
These
are not new ideas at all, but rather a more blunt
sledgehammer way of saying aloud hate speech of a kind
that even the most diehard of Sinhala chauvinists dare
not utter. Among the worst kinds of discrimination is
this utter lack of concern, this complete lack of
feeling, especially as it is directed against those who
have no recourse to any other form of power or alternate
hegemony.
The
Emperor’s new rhetoric, like Macbeth’s clothes, cleave
not to their mould, even seem strange now because they
do not have the aid of use. They may appear to most to
be ill-fitting for a ruler, but, more dangerously, to
this writer they are manifestly well-tailored to justify
the present actions of the state as well as to point to
a longer-term future where the new robes will sit easier
than the old, exposing Tamils in the north to naked
discrimination at its worst.
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