Any satisfactory answer to this question must examine, and consider the root causes for this problem; however, the solution must be sensitive to the numerous complexities brought about by the conflict itself. In the case of Sri Lanka, it would be naive examine this problem from a purely pre-1983 perspective.

The fundamental cause for this conflict is the perception by one race that the other race was privileged; there was a general perception racial inequality was prevalent. How did this perception arise? The origins lie in the 19th Century; the American missionaries established a wide network of schools in the Jaffna peninsula that molded an educated, English speaking group of people. The British then tapped into this ready pool of resources in order to fill posts in the Civil Service. Another reason for this was the British colonial policy of “divide and rule”; in fact, there is evidence that the British actively discriminated in favour of Tamils when allocating senior positions in the Civil Service. Hence, the Civil Service became dominated by Jaffna Tamils; their often arrogant attitude and simply the fact that this small minority held vastly disproportionate power was a cause of great resentment on the part of the Singhalese. This was amplified by the fact that Tamil’s were often able to use the administrative system more effectively; for example if a non-English speaking Tamil went to a government department the Tamil civil servants there would aid him in filling up the necessary forms etc. and explain the process in the vernacular. However since most of the Tamils did not speak Singhalese, those belonging to the Singhalese majority would not be able to do the same and hence felt resentment against the Tamils.

Economic success was another reason for the Singhalese antipathy of the Tamils. The Jaffna Tamil originated from an extremely harsh, dry environment where existence depended on careful planning and investment combined with frugal consumption. The Jaffna Tamil applied these experiences when conducting business; and was content to operate on small margins, live thriftily and ruthlessly plough back profits as investment. Therefore, a state arose where a small minority, the Jaffna Tamils, controlled a large proportion of wealth and power in Sri Lanka; the Singhalese naturally resented this modus operandi, however the power of the British Raj prevented them from actually responding.

After the bestowing of independence in 1948 the relative peace that prevailed in Sri Lanka in the preceding century was steadily eroded. The process began with the venting out of popular Singhalese umbrage against the Tamils by electing S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike for his “Sinhala Only” (a policy of making Singhalese the sole official language) policy in 1956. The treachery of S.W.R.D with regard to the Bandaranaike-Chelvanyagam Pact of 1957 amplified increasingly strained relations between the two races. These reached a boiling point in May 1958 when riots broke out in Colombo and the provinces; the most notable implication of these pogroms, besides the greater level of antagonism between the races, was that the Tamils began to lose confidence in the Government of Sri Lanka to safeguard them and treat them as equitable citizens. The primary reason was for five days the government had stood aside and had done nothing. This perception was intensified by the riots of 1977 (where the government again failed to protect Tamils from Singhalese gangs), the burning of the Jaffna Public Library (a symbol of Tamil culture and an important repository of original texts relating to the origins of the Tamils).

The role of standarisation must not be forgotten; the Jaffna Tamils depended on education for economic advancement. The introduction of standardization in 1973 meant that Jaffna Tamils would lose their niche position in the Civil Service and private sector.  In 1969, the Northern Province, which was largely populated by Tamils and compromised 7% of the population of the country, provided 27.5 percent of the entrants to science based courses in Sri Lankan universities. By 1974, this was reduced to 7%. This is repeatedly cited as evidence of State discrimination against Tamils, and hence contributed in undermining the Tamil’s confidence in the State.

In conclusion, by 1983 the Tamils were treated as second-class citizens; their language not recognized, advancement in the civil service limited, discriminated against in terms of education and not protected by their State.  Furthermore, they were considered aliens in their own land. This general perception was dominant at even the highest levels of government:

“If there is discrimination in this land which is not their (Tamil) homeland, then why try to stay here. Why not go back home (India) where there would be no discrimination. There are your kovils and Gods. There you have your culture, education, universities etc. There you are masters of your own fate”

- Mr.W.J.M. Lokubandara, M.P. in Sri Lanka’s Parliament, July 1981

This can be considered with ease as a lucid breach of the social contract; the Tamils then felt it their right to rebel and restore their rights. The Vaddukoddai Resolution of 1976 had firmly placed this restoration in terms of a separate sate. A guerilla movement emerged from those dissatisfied and brought the conflict into a new phase.

 One must not fail to note that the riots of 1983 were caused by Tamil militants viz the LTTE. Tamil militancy, by this time, had already developed to the extent where attacks of this nature ( 13 soldiers were killed) could be successfully completed; this revealed that 1983 did not instigate the ethnic conflict but was a manifestation the extent to which it had developed and that events were increasingly reaching an ever higher crescendo of violence and hatred.  The widespread backlash, the killing of thousands and the governments repeated failure to protect its citizens convinced the Tamil population that its rights would not be respected and that they would be classified as second-class citizens if they remained within the Sri Lankan state.

The next 25 years was fraught with greater violence, hatred and oppression. Both the LTTE and the government committed numerous human rights abuses. The LTTE repeatedly attacked civilians, such as the massacres at Anuradhapura in 1985 and repeatedly at border villages such as Thiripane, not to mention the bombing of busses. Government forces too have committed many violations of human rights e.g. thousands of disappearances, the killing of aid workers, and the rampages of soldiers are but a few of the many instances. The mutual animosity that existed before 1983 has deepened and matured into a state of utter mistrust and bitterness. Many, if not most, members of a certain ethnic group view the members of the other group as subhuman and not worthy of existence due to the above reasons. This psychological and sociological baggage cannot be ignored and must be dealt with if any solution is to exist today.  

In conclusion, the root cause of the ethnic issue is the feeling of inequality and oppression and for the ethnic conflict to be solved these must be dealt with; however this must be done within a framework considering the mutual hate and the deep rifts created in the last 25 years.

Today, 30^th April 2008, a country deeply divided, over 60,000 dead, a generation (or two) lost, children brainwashed, hatred and above all fear. What can be done?  The solution is simple yet concurrently complex. It is that the based on the cry of the French Revolution “Liberty, Equality and Fraternity”; all ethnic groups must be treated as equals. How it is to be achieved? The solution lies in the creation of a modern liberal democratic structure that ensures the rights of all citizens are equally upheld. All citizens must be treated equally. A sense of national identity based on the principle of the nation state rather than ethnicity must be instilled and cultivated.

On a practical level this means that the government should not consider the race of a person for any purpose e.g. the indication of race on national identification is unnecessary and counterproductive. Furthermore, the use of a common non-sectarian language (such as English) should be encouraged. In addition, a culture of principle and policy, not ethnicity, politics must be encouraged. A firm independent judiciary with power to enforce its decisions must be developed. Finally, the state must be secular, in order to prevent discrimination from that direction.

For all of this to occur legislative, constitutional, administrative and sociological change must occur. The LTTE will not accept any system of plurality and hence it would be naïve to expect any change from the LTTE, or the brainwashed and oppressed people under them. The burden lies on the average Sinhala voter (the majority) to elect a government that will ensure that all these goals are achieved.  The perceptions of the Sinhala voter must be changed via education and exposure (and perhaps war weariness). Only when these goals are achieved and all ethnic groups feel they are equal citizens  the “voice of strife” be dumb and only then will “we march to a mighty purpose”, the betterment of all our citizens, united as one. 

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My mother in law, age 55 is from Kalliyaddy, Mannar, (an LTTE controlled area) came to live with her daughter, who is married to me in Sinnakarishal, Pesalai on 15.01.08. Kalliyady is in LTTE controlled area with around 500 families. Life there has been extremely difficult for her and during the latter stages even more difficult. It is mandatory that a member of a family join the LTTE in their struggle. However, my mother in law managed to get her daughter out of the LTTE controlled area and gave her in marriage to me. 

She was adamant that she will not give her other daughter to join the LTTE and thought it was best to flee Kalliyaddy with her 25 year old daughter. During the last six months in Kalliyaddy it had been at a risk that she was able to hide her daughter and to avoid enlistment. Since the LTTE too was forcing more people to join, she thought fit to escape to government controlled area. There was no direct land route to Kalliyaddi from Mannar, except Uiylenkullam entry point which has been closed since September last year. She, along with her daughter trekked through the jungle in the night to reach Viddalthivu at dawn amidst great risk and difficulties.  

At dawn they walked along the shallow seas until they were met by a fishing boat who agreed to take them to Mannar after listening to their plight. On arrival they registered themselves at the Grama Niladhari in Sinnakarishal. On registration they wished to come and live with me and her daughter who are residents for a very long period in Mannar. This was the sole reason for her to escape from Kalliyaddy. However, security officials (Navy) in  Puthukuddippu Mannar opposed to them staying with her daughter and made it mandatory to move into a IDP camp specially set up for people escaping from the LTTE controlled areas. I made so many representation to the officials of her old and feeble age where she needs medical care and peace of mind and the need to house them with her own daughter. My plea fell on deaf ears. An officer categorically stated that my mother in law and her daughter could be black tigers and they should be kept under watch in this IDP camp.

How on earth can they label my old mother in law a black tiger? Is it fair to look at all such people as having links with the LTTE? What is our plight? Even during her last stages in life if she cannot live with her daughter with the simple comfort we could provide, what is the use of us. What is the future for my sister-in-law? They came from a difficult area to get some solace but are now in a worse situation where she is worrying over her daughter and her health is deteriorating day by day in conditions which are not good for living - this is when she has a better place to live. The recent rains have caused havoc and living in the IDP camp is even terrible now.

Unless they get pass from the police they can not go out. My wife & I wanted to bring them to our home as my mother - in - law is a diabetic patient. We reported about this to all organizations and the Mannar GA. My wife goes to Kallimottai Murunkane very day from Karishal to look after her mother. Therefore I have to stay and look after my children with out going for work. Why do we have to face these calamities when we could lead a decent life?    

Name: Mr. Ponnambalam (name changed upon request)
Address: Sinnakarshial

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This video was filmed approximately two and half hours after the bomb exploded on a crowded bus at a bus-stop in Piliyandala, near Colombo, in Sri Lanka. There was a mobile phone ringing inside the bus.

Earlier today the Sri Lankan military secured the Madhu in Mannar.

The LTTE are being blamed for the bus explosion. Latest reports say that 24 people are dead and 40 wounded.

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The quality of chutzpah has been described vividly as a boy who murders his parents and pleads with the judge for clemency on the basis of being an orphan. In the BBC interview aired April 16, 2008, the arguments of Central Bank governor Nivard Cabraal aptly lived up to this vivid portrayal of chutzpah.

Media Analysis in Sri Lanka
To say that the Sri Lankan media analysis of this interview was mixed, is to put it mildly. “Nivard gets foxed by straight talk” announced the Sunday Leader on April 20. The Island editorial the next day, “Hard Talk and not so soft options”, made a contrary assertion. It not only praised the governor and the interview but went on to accuse all critics of being LTTE lobbyists!

It is tempting to analyse such interviews as if they were a boxing match. Picking sides, asking who got in the most punches, whose face got bloodied and whether a knock-out blow was dealt or not. Notwithstanding such a posture in local media analysis it is important also to analyse the content of such interviews from the perspective of public interest. The political interest of “looking good” in the international media is not always convergent with the peoples interest of knowing the truth of our situation in Sri Lanka. I am writing to contribute towards the latter.

The governor Nivard Cabraal did well by any standards to maintain his poise and composure under a rigorous and attacking barrage of questions by BBC’s Stephen Sakur. Anyone seeing the interview is likely to have been impressed by the calm and collected manner of his responses. Unfortunately, his equanimity was not complemented by the quality of his arguments. These were for the most part obfuscating and unsound. Nevertheless, they demonstrated the perseverance with which government propaganda is being manufactured and, more than anything else, the chutzpah which has come to characterize the regime of President Mahinda Rajapakse. I will cite just two examples.

 Chutzpah to obfuscate common sense observations
Asked about the difficulty of maintaining investor confidence in the midst of a war situation and criticism on human rights records, He argued that investor confidence was not flagging. The evidence was this: when Sri Lanka went for a 500 million bond issue last October, it was heavily over-subscribed. This is a story that has been trumpeted repeatedly in Sri Lanka. The message is that creditors are clamouring to lend money to Sri Lanka. Sakur had done his homework. The real reason, he challenged, was that interest rates offered by the government on those dollar bonds were outrageously high. Then the chutzpah showed up: But, counted the Governor, the interest rates were high only to be in line with the credit rating of Sri Lanka. Therefore, his conclusion remained, creditors find us attractive!

International agencies assign credit ratings to countries based on a rigorous array of complex but well documented criteria. A lower credit rating is a sign of higher risk and lower confidence on the part of creditors. When the credit rating is low it requires higher interest rates to lure credit. If there is anything to glean from high interest rates that are driven by a low credit rating — which the governor acknowledged — it is that creditor confidence is low, exactly as Stephen Sakur was pointing out.

But such boring logic is for people without chutzpah. But for the governor, attracting creditors who have low confidence by offering high interest rates means that, suddenly, creditor confidence is also… HIGH! And, pigs can fly. It is like a man, shunned even by prostitutes, who gets some offers only after offering to pay double the normal rate, now boasting that this is indeed proof of how attractive he is to women.

Lies, Damn Lies, and Statistics
When challenged that the economy was fragile, the Governor countered. Unemployment, he said, was at an all time low at 5.4%. Increasing employment is a sign of a growing and healthy economy. Normally, falling unemployment describes just that. But, sometimes, these statistics can lie.

According to the Central Bank’s own figures (latest Annual report) the Sri Lankan economy has been steadily loosing the capacity to provide employment. Over the last three years the economy has shed 476,000 jobs. And this shedding of total jobs has happened even though the government has been steeply increasing the number of jobs in the public sector - by 92,367 in the same period. (See table).
 

Year	Total Employment	Public Sector Employment
2005	7,518,000	1,104,243
2006	7,105,000	1,145,723
2007	7,042,000	1,196,610

Source: Annual Report, Central Bank of Sri Lanka, 2007

This means that the rest of the economy — the tax paying part of the economy — lost 568,367 jobs in three years! The question about the fragility of the economy was spot on, but the Governor knew how to obfuscate the facts with statistics. This was an astounding show of chutzpah. He took hold of the very fact — of the Sri Lankan economy shedding jobs at an alarming rate — and used it with a statistical sleight of hand to pretend the exact opposite: that job availability had reached a new high! And, just watch how the pigs fly.

Discerning the true predicament
A government propaganda machine with a greater sense of shame might have tried to avoid talking about employment and unemployment altogether. But the lack of shame is the essence of chutzpah. This lack of shame is certainly not limited to government assertions about economics. Consider the long touted palpably false reason for not appointing the Constitutional Council — because minority parties couldn’t agree on a nominee. And, a pig flies like a bee! Chutzpah has become second nature to the government propaganda machine, and the people of Sri Lanka need to be aware.

It is the hope of all people in Sri Lanka to have a more peaceful and prosperous future. For that, we as individuals and as a society need to make wise choices in the present. It is a very Buddhist idea that the first step to wisdom is a discernment of our true predicament. But, when media analysis of government claims is at the level of partisan shouting matches, replete with name calling, the task of discerning our true predicament is being poorly served.

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My interpretation of the present impasse in the politics of Sri Lanka, determined as it is by the competitive jostling-cum-conflicts between the three main ethnic groups (where “Muslim” is ‘ethnic’ by virtue of its relationship of opposition to “Sinhalese” and “Tamil” in the same sentence), leans towards an emphasis on how one should address present circumstances. Though I am a historian, I believe that delving into ancient history is of limited value for any exercise in rapprochement. Indeed, I would go further and insist that the circumstances of the immediate present, today in 2008, must mould any constitutional and economic arrangements seeking a modus vivendi. We cannot erase memories of the atrocities committed by all parties in the conflict that rest within the minds of today’s victimised survivors. But, subject to such caveats regarding the immediate past, a bracketing and limiting of historically-based claims would be of immense benefit towards paths of reconciliation. Even the census of 1981 cannot be a baseline for territorial adjustments. The hard realities of the present-day ground situation must assume predominance for pragmatic adjustments of accommodation.

History, however, looms large in the claims to space within Sri Lanka among the propagandists and ultra-nationalists who are at the cutting edge of claim and counter-claim. Historical data, or, rather, what passes for data, is at the root of arguments of legitimisation and demand. Any Tom, Dick or Harry in the ultra camps feels that s/he can deploy bits and pieces of historical ‘fact’ to support the various claims to island-space. They also voice interpretations of the more recent past to emphasise their grievances and the legitimacy of political position.

These claims cannot be majestically cast aside: for the reason that they emanate from emotional commitments and earnest belief and, as such, are part of the politics of identity and political competition. It is for this reason that I addressed the subject of “History-Making” in an article that appeared in cyber-space within www.federalidea.com. The main argument was directed towards illustrating the sweeping character of the theories about the ancient history of Sri Lanka presented by some of the ultra TomDHs who ventured boldly in this field without any expertise in the subject. The emphasis was not on their lack of disciplinary training, but on the manifest absurdity of some arguments and the manner in which vast claims were asserted on the basis of one alleged ‘fact’, a fact that, as often as not, was of dubious authenticity.

Insofar as some of the extreme views that I challenged had harped on racial distinctions, one of the subsidiary themes in History-Making argued that the peoples of Sri Lanka were racially mixed and that blood-distinction was a non-issue. This assertion — and let me stress that it is a conjectured assertion - is based on common sense and the geographical location of the island in the sea lanes of the Indian Ocean, its proximity to the Indian sub-continent and a considerable body of widely-known facts about bodies of people who migrated to Sri Lanka at various moments during the last fifteen centuries or so.

Strikingly, though, this sub-theme is the issue that attracted most comment (thus far a week into the event). Apart from a few carping attacks by readers who had not understood my contentions, both Dushy Ranetunge and the pseudonymous Dingiri concentrated on this facet of my argument. Both in fact supported my thrust and stressed the mixtures of ‘blood’ or country of origin that have shaped the genes of the peoples who have lived in Lanka in recent past and distant past. Both even sought to provide a positivist cast to our series of assertions by suggesting DNA testing as likely proof.

It is this emphasis that gives rise to this particular essay. The emphasis on the racial aspect, our blood pedigree so to speak, is worrying even if the speakers are taking a moderate line that celebrates hybridity. For one, it demonstrates the power exercised by the racial categories spawned in the West and imported in the course of imperial expansion in an era marked by Darwinian currents. Such forms of thought found fertile soil in countries where varna theories held sway and caste distinctions averse to the mixing of blood (just read Piyadasa Sirisena’s novels of the early 20^th century and the first chapter in People Inbetween re this issue) had deep roots.

For another, it encourages a misunderstanding of ethnicity in the contemporary world and the force exerted by its depth of subjectivity. Ethnic differentiation is not solely “racial” or based on contemporary beliefs about supposed racial distinction (though that can be one powerful ingredient in such distinctions). Ethnicity is a subjective group sentiment. It is such sentiment that drives the ideologues who seek to manipulate the sentiments for their own immediate purposes. As subjective sentiment, ethnic identity is always in context and in relation to other groups in an interactive setting in territorial space. There is a “We”:”They” dimension to ethnic differentiation, one that can differentiate XYZ from several categories of neighbouring people (so that “They” can be a cluster of named others).

Such differentiation can be sharpened where there is competition for resources and for institutional power, including state power. That type of competition will be familiar to most readers so let me focus here on the cultural ingredients of subjective We-ness, that is, the cultural practices that sustain the distinctions and, then, reproduce them over generational-time in dynamic ways that can insert shifts in emphasis amidst significant continuities.

Language is often a fundamental dimension of one’s experience of the world, though it does not necessarily serve as a major factor of distinction everywhere or constitute difference in the same fashion. It is also a complex phenomenon because there can be meaningful dialect differences within each language. The dialect variation among the English and the Germans, for example, have been of considerable import for centuries and one facet of their emergence as “nations” was the moulding of an overarching ‘standard’ form of English or German that confederated their loyalties within the emergent new state.

The state as an institution was so central to the development of Englishness in the period extending from the 15^th to 18^th centuries that some historians depict the process as one involving a state-become-nation. But this state encompassed the British Isles and was known as “Britain” rather than “England.” Thus, the Scots, Welsh and Cornish were among those drawn into the confederative concept of Britain in the early modern and modern eras, an incorporation that was made easier by the economic opportunities opened up by the imperial expansion of Great Britain.

A subjective attachment to “Us” as distinct from neighbours is rarely constituted, and then re-produced over time, by just one central factor. It is a multi-factor process. Among other factors, self-perceptions and the sentiments around such affinities are moulded by everyday practices of a complex kind engaging preferences in cuisine, dress, tonsure, cosmetics, bodily cleanliness, architecture and so on. Let me illustrate from close to home.

In the late 21990s I was sent a draft manuscript by an Indian journal for review as Referee. The article was by Dennis McGilvray, an experienced American anthropologist conversant in Tamil and familiar with the Eastern Province. Addressing the issue of Tamil and Muslim identities in the Eastern Province his conclusions stressed the many commonalities they share and expressed a hope for political reconciliation in the immediate future. This emphasis was clearly motivated by well-intentioned hopes of peace, besides his knowledge of the regional scene. [See McGilvray’s revised article in Contributions to Indian Sociology and then again as a Marga Monograph in 2001 entitled “Tamil and Muslim Identities in the East”].

In reviewing the draft I expressed my reservations about the overly one-sided stress on similarities. Besides the evidence of recent clashes of a violent character between elements within these two bodies of people in the EP, sometime back I had chanced upon a Jesuit missionary document that recorded a violent riot some 110 years earlier in the 1890s. I also suspected that over the last century there would have been occasional bazaar clashes and land disputes with ethnic hues, flash-points that never reached newspaper reportage. So I had always been sceptical of platform rhetoric from local politicians affirming life-long amity among the different communities in the Eastern Province.

This caution was backed by my attentiveness to the significance of cultural difference of the sort embedded in practices of cuisine, coiffeur, tonsure et cetera and the reproduction of community endogamy because of the limited degree of cross-ethnic marriage throughout Sri Lanka. I therefore suggested that McGilvray’s essay could be improved if he attended to a whole range of seemingly minute areas of difference: for example (a) architectural practice relating to the directional location of one’s household cesspit and (b) the trimming of pubic and armpit hair that was enjoined on good Muslims.

Marriages across ethnic boundaries do occur in Sri Lanka. With reference to the  last two centuries, say, from 1796-to-1981, one can say that in some areas, such as the Chilaw-Negombo coastline and the sparsely populated dry zone jungles there has been some degree of inter-marriage between Sinhalese and other ethnic categories — including Väddas in some places. Likewise, in the slum and shanty areas in Colombo and among the jet-set elites such cross-ethnic marriages seem to be greater than among the general populace. But subject to such caveats one can present broad generalisations to the effect (1) that Muslim women have rarely married outside their community, though some Sinhala brides have been absorbed by the community; (2) that caste-oriented marriage practices among the Sinhalese and Tamils have assisted a broad process that sustains ethnic endogamy as a general feature and (3) that the Burghers have shown the greatest propensity to marry outside their group, though even here the pukka upper-crust Burghers tried to remain pukka.

Thus, for every instance of cross-ethnic marriage in the recent Sri Lankan past one could find another case where an individual who defied community and/or parental preference was disinherited or shunned; and there are surely enough anecdotal tales of boy-girl love interests that were vetoed by parental or sibling fiat.      

Marriage, however, is not the only arena where one can evaluate degrees of cross-ethnic amity. Food sharing and funeral arrangements provide litmus tests. It is not enough to share Muslim feasts at Ramazan or other symbolic moments. It is when and with whom food is shared that is significant. For that matter, it is how food is shared: does a visit to a Muslim household by a Tamil or Sinhalese friend (male?) involve eating rice out of the same main dish as everyone sits on the floor in a circle around the repast? The latter practice is one sign of Muslim-ness, inclusion in the brotherhood of local being, albeit, ultimately, a pointer towards the pan-Muslim community or ummah.

                                                   *   *   *   *   *

This long digression is directed towards emphasising the significance of a range of cultural practices - which obviously vary with area, climate and peoples - in moulding community sentiment of an ethnic kind in the global universe writ large. Travel and migrant movement in this era of globalisation may generate melting pot conditions in some places, but at the same time one also finds the development of heightened ethnicity shaped by nostalgia, ethnic networks of support, urban clustering, ghetto situations and the prejudices of host populations. Thus, ethnic affiliations always emerge in particular “sites” in the broad sense of the latter word (inclusive of class and time-period). They also are shaped by their relational field of structured social exchanges, including the impact of demographic weight and the control of resources and state power.

Thus, the appeal in this article is for us to move away from a focus on racial pedigree or beliefs about racial origins (though the latter can be one factor in the scenario) and to consider the range of factors, including seemingly benign everyday ways of dressing, cooking, eating or refining one’s body, that constitute difference.     

Towards this end I would ask each Sinhalese who reads this piece to reflect on the following issues: What makes you FEEL that you are a Sinhalese? How did you become Sinhalese? What made your parents think and feel themselves Sinhalese? And are you at the same time a Sri Lankan in sentiment? Or is the last question redundant in that “Sinhalese” is equivalent to “Sri Lankan”?

Likewise, with adjustments and a deletion of the last question, this battery of reflective questions can be pondered over by Tamils of Sri Lankan origin, some of whom may well have jettisoned their Sri Lankan-ness at this stage of their life as a result of recent experiences. In this regard the Tamils can also ask themselves if they have any sense of warm affinity to Tamils nourished in Tamilnadu, Malaysia or Fiji? In other words, is one’s “Tamilness” locale-specific and rooted in memories of place or places, say, Manipay, Paranthan or Pasakudah?

To put my question in a nutshell: how did each of you become Sinhalese or Tamil and develop attachments to that entity? The inspiration for this question, I add, comes from the grave. On one occasion in August 1983 a few weeks after the anti-Tamil pogrom of that year, Charles Abeysekera and Newton Gunasinghe (both now deceased) were at the SSA office in Nawala Road reflecting on the situation facing their country. As related to me once by Newton, he was forced to confront a question on the lines above raised by Charlie: “how do you know you are Sinhalese and what makes you Sinhalese?” It was not a joke, but an analytical twister. Newton had proceeded to address it with due seriousness and in analytical fashion. It is this I ask of you.

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