Sanitized version of my article below in "The Hindu"
"Absent, I come to the home of the absent
“ - Poet Mahmoud Darwish
Traveling on A9 highway connecting
rest of Srilanka to Jaffna Peninsula, the former rebel runway, now
reconstructed as carpet road which shines as Chinese currency running parallel
to the new railway track that is an Indian "work in progress" can
make your ride feel nails in the air.
Even my Sinhalese friend who drove me
to Jaffna was embarrassed by the distasteful hoardings of Rajapakshe grandiosely
propagating development schemes like
"Vadikkil Vasantham ; Kizhakkil Udhayam" (Spring in North ; Sunrise
in East).
The shrub jungles on both sides of
the road were clothed in military green with the Srilankan Army having a strong
presence here. The green did little to calm our senses as nothing could hide
the sight hide the plain sight of a disabled man passing the street or a
forlorn lady with cotton wool draped over eyes, cradling a paralysed child in
her arms. What is even distressing is that people wait in woe for alms from anyone
who looks tourist or “NGO”ised. Strange block homes are cropping all the way like
mushrooms after a quick rain.
Shrouding over this dreary picture
are the ultra-Buddhist nationalist motifs, more so the stark reality of their omnipresence.
A series of check-posts at points such as Omanthai, Elephant pass as true
memoirs of a war, simply refuses us to break from the past.
When I made my trip to Jaffna for the
41st Ilakiya Santhippu(Literary Meet / July 20, 21) official in my facebook
page, several trolls (those overtly fond of sowing discord in the virtual
world!) alleged that I was a stooge of Rajapakshe.
A visit to a country whose government looks at a mere television remote
controller as a serious threat to its sovereignty could spell horror to any
free-thinking person. However this time around, with boycotts bearing
eerie resemblance to State Censorship.
Thinking along those lines, I
sometimes wonder how nationalistic I can feel about holding Indian citizenship
considering the human rights excesses committed by the Indian State in Kashmir
and North East. Sometimes the whole debate on who has less blood in their hands
can be quite insinuating.
All the early forty editions of
"Ilakiya Santhippu" were organised in European cities and Canada by
exiled writers and artists during the last thirty darkened years of
unscrupulous censorship by both State and Liberation Tigers for Tamil
Eelam(LTTE) in the island. Authoritarianism on both sides had extracted a heavy
human toll since dissidence was always considered as treachery in the tragic
war. Writers, artists and activists who held opinions different than that of
the dominant one in vogue were viewed as traitors and were killed in broad
daylight starting with Rajini Thiranagama (Author of Broken Palmyrah). Infact
Ilakiya Santhippu had one of its frontier writer / thinker Sabalingam brutally
murdered in France and they had to dedicate the following edition to
"Writers who were killed and also who are likely to be killed". Thus
the conscience of the expatriate free thinkers kept ticking in the form of Ilakiya
Santhippu , as small magazines and radical publications, refused to be “silenced”
which was viewed as yet another form of death. I recall what our late
Edward Said quoted as to “pit the power of culture against the culture of
power”
There was another argument that what
would Ilakiya Santhippu bring to the thousands of poor and the displaced, the
bereft and victims of Srilanka’s war. But should art relinquish after a defeat?
Can fear preoccupy the space for dialogue? If so, how and who will engage with
the political polemics? Is it possible to escape a post-mortem of war crimes
and severe loss of civilian lives? Who is a writer then? What is the role of writers and artists in
the time of crisis and social upheavals? When people’s identities have been
destroyed individually and culturally and in the process of destruction, how
and who will voice the conflict? Can literary production heal the trauma? I
believe that these questions have to be kept alive even if we do not have
immediate answers.
Young
Poet Vijayaletchumi, in one of the poetry sessions at
Ilakiya Santhippu, read “Photographs/ hang in all houses amidst /joss sticks smoke/ and floral
offerings/ of village youths/ eclipsing the portraits of gods (Poem “Paled
East”)” Her lines mourn every Tamil household for their loss of family members,
and pride. In this given situation, we need to reflect on what oft-uttered
words such as reconciliation, progress, development and importantly, that most
cherished or abhorred word ‘nation’ mean amidst all the suffering and loss of
lives.
Sessions on caste, gender,
transgender and sexual minorities, nationalist and critical of nationalist
literature of North / East Tamils, writings of Malayaga(hill country) Tamils
and Tamil-Muslim nationalists, secular Sinhalese; Diaspora literature,
traditional art and folklore with speakers from the respective regions and
ethnicities signified the aspirations of a war ravaged community to build a
civil space for a plural and an open discourse.
The literary community, however, also
struggles to locate an inclusive Srilankan Imaginary, where the majoritarian
Sinhala polity triumphantly declares that minorities no longer exist in post
war Srilanka.
Nationalism,
as collective consciousness in times of crisis of exclusion held the community
together and aided the abundance of literary production but also constructed
the ‘other’ as an enemy and divided. Divided humanity subsequently made women,
the socially underprivileged by caste/ class and sexual minorities even more
marginalized. Sinhala Buddhist Nationalism and its oppression tactics evolved
Tamil Nationalism while the violent extremities of Tamil Nationalism led to the
formation of Muslim Tamil Nationalism. Added to it, the caste dynamics of
Northern Tamil psyche further excluded Hill country Tamils to emerge Hill
Country Tamil Nationalism. Artists became refugees and refugees became artists
because of political pressures and crisis in cultural identity creating exile
literature. Hence literature in Srilanka is deeply polarized reflecting the
deep divide between ethnic communities.
There was
always literature production which on one hand promoted ideologies of
ethnicity, nationalism and violence and on the other hand critiqued the notions
of nationalism and called for meaningful inquiry into human dignity and values.
This contrast between the ideal and real evidently epitomized Ilakiya Santhippu
and “Guernica” - the 800 odd pages
Literary Journal edited by writer Shobasakthi and team with contributions from
12 countries, which was released in the meet. “Guernica” indeed was a
reflection on the longing for humanistic ideals after decades of trial, error
and trauma.
Sinhala Novelist Liyanage Amarakeerthi while discussing Tamil Characters
in Sinhala criticised that they just use them to push the meanings forward. He
pointed out the fragile sense of guilt within Sinhala writers community with
examples from Writer Jayathilaka Kammellaweera’s short stories “Poy Solla
Vendam(Need not lie)” and “Are you alright?” He remarked about how Sinhala
writers are generous enough to share love with Tamils but not the State.
Writer-Translator So.Padmanathan, who chaired
the session, shared his dilemma in translating Poet Nufman’s resistance poem
about burning of Jaffna Library. With his deepest respect and love of Buddha,
he could not translate “Butharin Padukolai” as “Buddha’s Assassination” and had
to give a title “Murder”. Poet Sumathy Sivamohan discussed about how to generate
meanings outside of a poem’s immediate site of writing. She spoke about one of
the prolific Poet Sivaramani who killed herself in 1991 after burning cinders from of her poetry. Sumathy Sivamohan recited
the violence that mournfully leapt out of Sivaramani’s untitled poem “When a gun is pointed/at
the umbilical cord/of this society/the dream of a butterfly/that can balance
itself/on a thin flower bud/is only an incident/that I cannot relate to/
I, in my effort to live as
human/prefer to leave the flowers to the tree”; she stated that this was not merely symbolic but
about a real gun that belongs to LTTE.
Writer Lenin Mathivanam proclaimed “Malayaga(Hill Country)” Tamils who
were brought by British to work in tea estates are the first and foremost to
write Diaspora Literature. He observed the hill country Poet
Meenatchi’s as the pioneering voice against the repressive Sinhala Buddhist
regime. Nawaz Soubi while presenting his research on Tamil Literary Histories
compiled so far, proved with evidence on how the anthologists neglected “Asanbe
Sarithiram” though being the first novel written by a Tamil Muslim.
Veteran Writer Theniyaan, in his sessions on Dalit Literature
briefly described the repertoire of Novelist Daniel and discerned how LTTE
silenced Dalit-related issues and never committed on the abolition of caste.
Dalit sentiments were stronger in questioning their place and dignity in
“Eelam”, the separate Tamil homeland being fought for all these years.
Writer Activist Chithralekha described how Tamil women were free to have
a gun but not free to write on sexuality, religion and critical politics. Rape
culture by hegemonic Sinhala State, Indian Peace Keeping Force and within Armed
Movements might be hid in the pages of history but not in the pages of women
literature. Poems like Koneeswarigal by Kala and Krishanthy by Vinodhini give
us ‘her’ stories. Transgender Writer Activist
Living Smile Vidya , a participant from India presented a historical session on
transgender life and literature to a community where even “coming out” of
sexual minorities cannot be construed as reality. Debates went to new heights
when audience recalled how LTTE killed transgender people in the name of
punishment since prostitution was considered criminal in their political constitution.
Writer Stalin from France traced the history of Diaspora literature since
during 80s when the refugee phenomenon started and it sounded more like a
murder mystery as he revealed how writers and thinkers gave their life to the
“traitor” culture. War had displaced hundreds and thousands of Tamils
internally and externally and that had a direct impact on literary production
in Tamil.
After drenching myself in the
literary floods of a stark and oppressed culture,
I found myself asking, can freedom be
possible at the cost of humanity? In fact it was a question that resonated in
the mind of every literary enthusiast, writer, journalist, poet and artist from
Tamil, Muslim and Sinhalese communities across the Island and from India,
Canada, Germany, France, United Kingdom and America who gathered in Jaffna for
this literary meet.
I must say, everyone had given
whatever they could to come to terms with the despair of defeat.
Leena Manimekalai
Poet - Filmmaker
