“Dr Asad, it’s your turn, next,” you wrote on the wall,And started the Syrian War, they say.[Bull! All of it, I’d say.But that’s for another day, not today.]Now six years and so many bodies laterBurning citiesShelled out shells of homesAnd haunted eyes of the PTSed massesFlash across, fodder for the world mediaAnd the war mongers of the west –Are they really two? –Bodies lie rottingOn the brine swept sandsVigilled by the fish, gulls, and the dogsBurkas tornTo titillate the jaded palates of the NorthForearms markedBy many little deaths and short trips to heavenSons and daughters of the Sand lie stunnedSeven virgins – not for the girls – each in attendance.So the Boy who Started the Syrian War, now a man,When you plungeInto the honey depth of your chosenDon’t you hear the whimpersOf those othersWho lie on their backIn their musty streaked pads up northAnd think of youWhile some pig grunts atop them?When you pick up your new-bornFresh out of his mother’s wombDon’t you get the stench of that rotting corpseOf that little boy on the beach?Your home in some northern clime,Don’t the very walls drip bloodAnd your roof scatter sand on your head,You, the boy who said to have written on the wallAnd started the Syrian War?
Thursday, August 31, 2017
The Boy Who Started the Syrian War
Thursday, May 11, 2017
Reviews in Progress: Ginisiluwaka Sandaeliyak – Ranjith Dharmakirtirogress
Ranjith Dharmakirti’s Ginisiluwaka Sanda
Eliya is narrated by a third person omniscient narrator who moves between
Sinhalese and Tamil milieus. The protagonists are Nandani, the eldest daughter
of an impoverished rural upper-caste Sinhalese Buddhist family, and Anandan,
the elder son of a middleclass upper-caste Hindu family. Anandan sees the caste
as a factor that unifies Nandani and him despite the difference in their
ethnicity. Yet, initially Nandani refuses to work with Anandan for “[f]rom her
childhood she had the idea that Tamils were rough people” (26). When he offers
to visit her at her home she tells him not to, for she is afraid that “the
villagers might consider her as traitor if she invited a Tamil to her home”
(32). The socialist director of the hospital where Nandani worked is critical
of her “ethnophobia” . The narrator says that the kind of socialization the
Sinhalese undergo, lack of respect for Tamils - “treating all Tamils, even the
upper class educated Tamils who live in Jaffna as beneath the Sinhalese”, “lack
of recognition for Tamil as an ancient language with a Great Canon, lack of
facilities to study the language and literature, and the non-availability of
Sinhala translations of Tamil literary work” are the reasons for the ethnic
divide (53).
In Ginisiluwaka Sandaeliyak,
written by Ranjith Dharmakeerthi, a dramatist and a writer, the West is the
place of great philosophers, rule of law, cleanliness, order, rationality, etc.
while the East is a place of irrational racial conflicts. The Sinhalese are
depicted as engaged in practicing repressive socio-political policies that
trigger “a civil war”. Hence, the Sinhalese heroin and some of the important
Sinhalese characters are repeatedly engaged in extensive cultural
self-criticism (155-56). They apologize repeatedly to Dr. Ananadan on behalf of
their race. Similarly, according to the Tamil characters in the novel “the
majority of the Sinhalese are ethno-nationalist, uneducated, rural farmers and
industrial workers” (97).
Both Nandani’s and Dr. Anandan’s points of
view are given equal space and weight. The ethnicity of the protagonists and
their two families could be interchanged without causing any great change to
the plot. However, as Hemarathne Liyanaarchchi in “Ranjith’s Rich Structure and
Characterization” (Daily News 13/3/2012) points out, the author does not focus
on the escalating terrorist activities as an important factor in his novel. The
novel ends in a positive note with the couple flying to a new country in search
of a new life.
Anandan, Shivalingam -his father, and
Indrakumar - his university educated brother, engage in extensive criticism of
both the Sinhalese and Tamils. However, the brunt of their arguments is that
the Sinhalese “ethno-nationalism” pushes Tamils towards an armed struggle for a
separate state or into fleeing the country as refugees . According to Anandan:
“If all those parties in the South had got together and supported
Bandaranaike-Chelvanayagam Agreement, this problem could have been solved at
that time” (93). The reason for not supporting such a resolution, according to
Indrakumar, is that “[t]he majority of the Sinhalese are racist uneducated
rural peasants and factory workers” (97). He concludes that, “[i]f Tamils
cannot live freely, then our people are pushed towards a position where we have
to obtain a fair solution through an armed struggle as the Boys say” (95) . In
reply to Indrakumar’s view on the emerging Tamil national pride due to the
activities of the “Boys”, Anandan states, “We must stop talking about both
Tamil pride and Sinhalese pride and build a common patriotism” (199).
Interestingly, none of the Sinhalese characters engage substantially in a
socio-political analysis of the current situation. Nandani’s family is
portrayed as besieged by socioeconomic problems to the point that the members
are beyond the kind of intellectual engagements frequent among Shivalingams.
There are references to Sinhalese people
acting generously towards Tamils who have become victims of the Sinhalese
“ethno-nationalism” and vice versa. The novel also refers to LTTE practices
such as kidnapping, death-threats, confiscation of property, and demanding of
‘dues’. In fact, mulling over his family’s situation, Shivalingam laments, “The
way things are going on we cannot live either in the South or in the North”
(202).
In the novel, the West is depicted as a
rational, rule governed place devoid of corruption, conflicts, and inequity.
Indrakumar says, “European intellectuals and artists stood up against Hitler and
the war with one voice … The only country with artists saying that war is good
is Sri Lanka” (152). Upon immigrating, Anandappa, a permanent resident of
Australia, tells Anandan, “You would experience a great change after living in
Sri Lanka. People respect the law, here. Law is common to everybody. People are
well-behaved. Civilized” (206). In the end, “Anandan gives up the idea of going
back to Sri Lanka due to the situation back there and the peaceful and
comfortable life he has made for himself in Australia” (220). Still, Anandan is
aware that his problem would not end with migration to another country. So he
warns his bride: “When we go to Sydney, the Sinhala organizations will approach
you. The Tamil organizations will approach me. Those two organizations may even
brand us as traitors for marrying outside the ethnicity. We have to build a
life amidst these problems” (239).
The third person narrator and some of the
characters of Ginisiluwaka Sanda Eliya practice “cultural criticism”
extensively. Yet, much of the criticism is done by the Tamil characters or the
narrator on behalf of the Tamil characters in mono-ethnic milieus. Thus, in
addition to a marked one-sidedness of the criticism, there is no space for an
exchange of ideas between ethnicities. In addition, throughout the narrative
Sinhalese characters all too readily accept a sense of racialized guilt.
Interestingly, Ginisiluwaka Sanda Eliya, written immediately after the Final
War, does not make any references to it. Also, as Hemaratne Liyanarachchi in
his web article “Ranjith’s rich structure and characterization” states, in the
novel, “the imminent threat of terrorism whose flames have already begun to
lick the social web of the country has been viewed from the far end of the
telescope”. Moreover, though the novel makes passing references to the issue of
caste discrimination that had led to youth unrest in the North and the South,
this is not explored as an essential cause of the rise of armed insurgencies.
Yet, when the writers’ own ethnicity as a Sinhalese is taken into account, this
study of how the Self is seen by the Other is clearly an example of an attempt
at a “cultural self-criticism”.
In contrast, in Ginisiluwaka Sanda Eliya,
Dharmakirti makes use of the voice of the Other to criticise the discriminatory
activities of the Sinhalese as well as the violence practiced by the LTTE. The
Road, too, despite the limitedness of its viewpoint, conducts a cultural
criticism of the Other as well as the Self. Also, with its stories of victims
and victimizers on both sides of the ethnic divide, Island is indubitably a
cultural self-criticism.
Reviews in Progress: Army Army by Kumāra Chāpābandara
Army
In contrast Army
wdñ by Kumāra Chāpābandara presents the war as a senseless waste of human
lives: “Our people their people … this is bullshit. Both Tamils and us are
enmeshed in a war to satisfy the needs of some others, do you understand? Both
groups are the ultimate losers of the war” (21). In the title ‘Army’ is in
English represents the higher ranks of the Army that according to the writer
benefit from the institutionalized framework of the Army which allows them a
despotic amount of power and in some cases room for corruption. The second ‘Army’
in Sinhala – represents the vast majority of the ‘ordinary’ soldiers. The novel
gives its readers an interesting insight to the role of English language as a
rank/class marker in the Army. The protagonist Kumāra Chāpābandara (a pen name
used in his newspaper columns) gives a first person narrative of the events of
over 12 years of his life as a soldier attached to the Medical Corps of the Sri
Lanka Army. The narrator considers war as a big men’s game – both Tamil and
Sinhalese, and businessmen, here and abroad - who exploit the poverty-stricken
youth of the country:
Looking back, those who obtain state power the majority of
whom are Sinhalese Buddhists misuse racial identity to ensure their survival.
Those who appear as the opposition, too, use their Tamilness as a means of
survival. The story is the same on both sides. The vast majority of ordinary
Sinhalese, Tamils, and Muslims are under a great amount of pressure.
Exploitation, unfair division of resources and the resultant disparities are
common to all parts of the country. Liberation is necessary for everybody.
Therefore, imprisoning Tamil sections who are suffering from existential issues
in a racist framework and arming them for a war against a false enemy is a
historical crime. (91)
The novel
partially refutes the notion that the army is racist by pointing out that they
had been used against the JVP uprising in 1971 and 1989-1890 periods against
the Sinhalese in the South. The army according to the epigraph is a tool used
by whoever in power to fulfil their narrow political ambitions. According to
the narrator the war as fought in the 1980s would not be able to end the
ongoing situation due to corruption, lack of will, tactics involved and
international pressure, i.e. India invading SL airspace, tactics used by the
LTTE. Nation-building requires a massive overhauling of the entire
socio-political system supervised by visionaries like him.
Reviews in Progress: Dehi: Suwanda, Rasa Saha Katu
Dehi: Suwanda, Rasa Saha Katu
DSRK by Himali N.
Liyaanage looks at the war primarily from the point of view of Suhani, a
Sinhalese woman, but brings in the point of view of the Tamil, too, through the
family members of Ramesh Jayabandara, her husband who was brought up by his
Tamil mother and pro-separatist grandfather. Liyanange’s narration receives a
certain amount of objectivity due to the distance between her subject matter
and herself due to her diasporic location. Hence, when the Tamil undergraduates
of Peradeniya celebrated the Central Bank blast with high-fives both Ramesh and
Suhani are disturbed (41). War as a whole is depicted as something destructive
that affects the entire nation (42). It is a “feast for the international community”
who benefit from it in various ways (157). Suhani at the beginning is apathetic
towards the war. Later her own liberal humanist father becomes a victim of a
suicide bomb. Subsequently, towards the end of the novel Suhani begins to see
the then ongoing war as a war against terrorism (158).
Ramesh criticizes
his grandfather Sella Thaththa’s extremist views and identifies himself with
the youth of the country (54). He resents the fact that the Army disregarded
him as a suspect due to his race during a search for JVP activists. Ultimately,
torn between two races he decides to leave Sri Lanka. His materialistic nature
makes him a victim of Professor Mayuran, an LTTE kingpin who uses him as
go-between in a money laundering scheme. Mayuran ruins Ramesh and rapes his
mother to fulfill a personal grudge.
On the issue of
nation-building and reconciliation, inter-racial marriages are on the surface
depicted as having negative consequences both in the case of Ramesh’s parents
as well as in Suhani and Ramesh’s (115/6). Yet, in both cases it is other more
individual issues such as lack of communication that lead to the break up of
the two marriages. Hence, the novel highlights need for communication as a
vital step in the process of reconciliation.
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