Claims and demands: The flip side of  longing for ‘belonging’

Two weeks ago, I dwelled on the grief and anxiety experienced by our nation (“One Country, One Law’ in an aggrieved and anxious nation”), pointing out that all communities, religious or ethnic included, consider themselves wronged and consequently are aggrieved and anxious. Last week’s piece is an elaboration of sorts; I focused on the notion of ‘belonging’ and how the majority community has by and large failed to address this issue, in particular the sense of ‘not belonging’ perceived by other communities. 

I asserted the following: ‘Tamils perceived a sense of not belonging so great that they felt a separate state was an option.’ Daya Gamage, who spent 30 years as an employee of the US Federal Government whose subject was foreign relations/policy between Washington and Colombo, took issue with the above. The following is part of what he wrote:

He adds that at the time, Tamils had over 40% in the public service - mainly in the commerce, banking, customs, educational institutions, and the percentage of Tamil students in the universities too was over 40

‘In September 1947 during the session of the First Parliament - 5 months prior to gaining Independence - the deputy leader of the All Ceylon Tamil Congress S.J.V. Chelvanayagam declared “If Ceylon can secede from Great Britain, Tamil Nation too can secede from Ceylon” at a time the minority (12%) Tamil community had 45% of places in Ceylon’s public service, armed forces, 45% of places in universities.

‘With all that (Tamil) comfort, why did Chelva want a separate state in 1947? Go to the Hanzard to get the entire quote. Then when he inaugurated the Federal Party in 1949 - it is actually not Federal Party as its real name ‘Ilankai Thamil Arasu Katchi (Lanka Tamil State Party) depicts his ultimate desire, in his maiden speech said that the FP aim is to get a separate homeland for the Tamils. These are times [when] the minority Tamils [enjoyed] a larger share of Sri Lanka over a majority (74) Sinhalese.

All of us will remain slaves if we cannot see villain in ourselves and saint in those who we perceive as enemy. We can quibble about saint-size and villain-size, but that won’t get us anywhere

He adds that at the time, Tamils had over 40% in the public service - mainly in the commerce, banking, customs, educational institutions, and the percentage of Tamil students in the universities too was over 40, and asserts, ‘the “Separate State Seed” was sown in 1947 and 1949, not after Bandaranaike’s ‘Sinhala Only’ [as is frequently claimed]. He also points out that the ‘privileges’ within the Tamil community were skewed in favour of the Vellalas. 
SJV Chelvanayagam is also famous for claiming that the Sinhalese are not by nature opposed to change but would be quite amenable to incremental alterations [which enhance the position of Tamils]: ‘a little now, more later.’ That strategy seems to have framed Tamil nationalism since. 

 Anyway, what Gamage has mentioned are rarely mentioned facts in light of which my claim seems odd. I ought to have phrased it as follows: ‘Tamils STATED a sense of not-belonging long before “war” created its own alienations.’ 

Those post-Chelva alienations or anxieties and grievances cannot be ignored or wished away. Even though the Tamil nationalist positions of the time were preposterous and do not indicate the kinds of anxieties that may justify a call for separation and therefore the term ‘lacking a sense of belonging’ is out of place, today we are at a point where ‘belonging’ or rather not-belonging is an issue. We can point fingers and some of them will certainly be directed towards the Tamil chauvinists of that other era. The story doesn’t and should not end there.

Indeed, ‘The Story’ includes innumerable acts of terrorism that targeted the Sinhala people and Buddhist places of worship and veneration. Yes, that coin has another side which needs to be acknowledged and indeed has been acknowledged. However, there’s no way we can ignore the fact that grievance and anxiety are not the private property of the Tamil community or, more correctly, those who claim to speak on its behalf.  

If everyone must come clean by acknowledging the errors and worse that their community is guilty of, then those  who claim to be aggrieved and anxious must revisit the narrative of inter-ethnic tensions in its entirety, include things footnoted or erased and acknowledge ‘contribution’ of home-chauvinists if you will. Part of that ‘home’ is home marginalization based on caste, religious affiliation and class. These should be spoken about but even if that’s not done, the pernicious nature of claims and demands which exacerbated tensions must certainly be acknowledged. 

We could also do what we’ve always done: take a tin of red paint and one of white, use the red to paint ‘villain’ on others and white to clear ourselves. We got ourselves into this mess. Together. We can apportion blame and part of it could very well be true, but none of us are saints. However, all of us will remain slaves if we cannot see villain in ourselves and saint in those who we perceive as enemy. We can quibble about saint-size and villain-size, but that won’t get us anywhere. In the end we will all have to write this story together without glossing over uncomfortable parts or underlining for emphasis those that make sources of grief and anxiety seem enormous and thereby making us seem less gruesome or even harmless.  

The English literature, so to speak, is full of slant and absences. Some of the absenters and slanters, if you will, are quite adept at literary criticism and are experts at identifying absences and slant. They’ve been lax and that’s putting it mildly. However, we are all producers of literature of one kind of another. We all add to the story. We subtract too. This is a story we have to write individually and collectively, as citizens and collectives if we truly want to live in a ‘nation’ where none of us feel marginalized, none of us feel we don’t really belong. We could add ‘where none of us feel short-changed,’ but that would call for an engagement with ‘class.’  We could say ‘that’s for another day.’  We shouldn’t. 
malindasenevi@gmail.com