Hand grenade country
Somewhere in the middle of this riveting biography of a nation at war Samanth Subramanian dismisses the banal expression terming Sri Lanka a 'teardrop island'. He instead views it as a hand grenade with Jafna being the safety pin. Suddenly this becomes your image of Sri Lanka too as you view from the bloody prism of its three decade old civil war and it feels like an accurate description of the country. It is moments such as these that make this part war book , part travelogue such an interesting read.
Samanth simultaneously explores the civil war, it's aftermath and the social conditions which led to it in the first place. Although this appears to be a daunting task he pulls it off with spectacular finesse giving one a whole new perspective of the country.
The book starts with a look at modern Sri Lanka as it copes with the aftermath of the civil war. The Sinhalese are in a triumphant and brash mood after vanquishing the Tigers in the bloody endgames of the war while the Tamils are a sober lot learning grudgingly to play second fiddle to the Sinhalese even as they stew in their new insecurities. The urban landscape is undergoing a transformation to reflect the emerging Sinhala majoritarianism where a 'brawny and purposeful' rather than the serene Buddha is making conspicuous appearances. The creation of an overtly Buddhist landscape is also accompanied by cleansing of any Tamil remnants. As he ruefully observes - 'where there was nothing Buddhist to reclaim, there was always something Tamil to destroy'.
For novice outsiders like me Buddhist fundamentalism was a revelation. Buddhism is often cited in religious debates as an example of a truly peaceful religion compared to the other lot(the religious minded miss the delicious irony that by making such a case they in fact worsen their brief by accepting the violence of the other religions). This simple minded assumption is credibly questioned in the book as Buddhism employs casuistry to shamelessly legitimize the war effort by terming it speciously as a 'war for peace' effort and the war being carried out in the name of the Buddha himself. Buddhist moral high ground is ripped apart layer by layer as monks are presented as specimens who rival the bigots from other religions.
The book then tracks the origins of the conflict and it's surprising to note that rather than being a recent phenomena it has a 2000 year history dating to the founding of Sri Lanka. The Mahavamsa,the Sinhala epic exhorts fellow Sinhalese whom it deems to be of superior Aryan stock to actively hate the much inferior wild Dravidian Tamils and stake their claim as the first sons of the soil. The British true to their policy of divide and rule favor the minority Tamil community which angers the Sinhalese further and once freedom arrives the Sri lankans feel it's their time to redress the balance. What begins as preferential treatment for the Sinhalese turns into outright institutional discrimination towards the Tamils by the 70s.
Thus the middle of the 70s is all set for a showdown between the two communities and confrontation does come in the form of riots across the country. As Tamils realize the failure of constitutional methods of their moderate politicians they are drawn to the extremist ideology advocated by the Tigers spearheaded by Prabhakaran. This of course is a catastrophic choice and the remainder of the book deals with this horrific cycle of violence which culminates in the defeat of the Tigers three decades later with the world questioning the purported war crimes committed by the Sinhalese.
The books also holds out a lesson for India which has - thus far - been saved from majoritarian excesses. India proves the need to have a feminine accomodative touch rather than an aggressive masculine approach in handling diversity. Lest we forget it we just need to have a look at our southerly neighbor.
The book in the end explores the psyche of the two communities and arrives at the surprising conclusion that the civil war has rendered both with the same temperament marked by extreme insecurity, fear of the authorities and loathing of the other. It is here that the book ends with neither hope nor despair for what is to come as it leaves time to decide on either path.
Samanth's writing in the best words of Orwell is as clear as a window pane and he peppers it with flourishes of imagination like a novelist. As he describes his intellectual friend M whom he meets in Jafna who he tries to pin to English to get the 'materialistic' information of the country even as he tries to defy him and 'soar in Tamil'. Also the description of the mechanic Nirmaladevan who is so purposeful in his daily chore that interrupting him would be like interrupting a phenomena of nature 'like a disruptive boy stopping the path of purposeful ants'. He is affecting when describing small actions of people that touches you like the 'beautifully futile act of resistance' of a Muslim butcher who hangs the key prominently outside to indicate a degree of ownership as 'he had ceded the house, rather than having it snatched from him'. Or the poignant request of a man who's leg is blown away by a tiger raid as he requests for a copy of the book when it eventually makes it to print. These and other such moments make sure that the book and the people it endeavors to describe stay in your mind for a long time to come.
Posts
