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Did women make a difference? Arriving in Northern Ireland to oversee the final stages in the completion of the Northern Ireland Peace Agreement, Prime Minister Blair spoke of feeling ''the hand of history on our shoulders''. During those days, all of Northern Ireland seemed to hold its breath, witnessing events which might allow us to begin to put behind us almost thirty years of civil strife, but which might also have resulted in failure, deadlock and continued conflict. In the event, on April 10th 1998, we took a step forward in the few intervening months, however, we have had many more occasions to feel alarm and anticipate setbacks; even the most optimistic are not yet ready to celebrate the end of our conflicts. Mr. Blair has returned a few times, to console and encourage' at the time of writing this paper, he is once more visiting Northern Ireland, to sympathise with the victims of the Omagh bombing and to propose the introduction of further emergency powers to make easier the arrest and imprisonment of its perpetrators. That bombing and its aftermath-like the violence and murders during the crisis over the Orange march, at Drumcree in July have brought back into focus the dangers which still surround the complex but fragile structure which is the ''Good Friday Agreement'' and the amount of work which is still required for it to be transformed into a secure future for our country. Nevertheless, the signing of the Agreement, and its endorsement by the overwhelming majority of voters in both states in Ireland, represent important steps forward on the path to reconciliation and partnership among the parties to the conflict. The issues on which it is possible to reach accommodation have been redefined and enlarged; new potential for compromise has been identified and new ways of working towards a settlement of differences have been explored. It is possible to isolate the intransigent and uncompromising on both sides of the major divide; the popular endorsement of the Agreement provides a good basis on which to build new structures. In this paper, I will examine one of the parties which worked for, signed and campaigned for acceptance of the Agreement: the Northern Ireland Women's Coalition. I will discuss its origins; its aims, its methods of work and its role in the peace process. I will try to assess its role in the peace process from 1996 to the present and to determine what, if any, difference its presence there has made for women in Northern Ireland. Women, politics and society in Northern
Ireland The position of women is not uniformly subordinate nor entirely restricted to the domestic sphere, have in 1961, less than 30% of married women were in paid employment; by the 1990s, this had risen to 60%. In 1959, only 12% of mothers with pre-school age chidren were in the worldforce, by 1990, 43% of this group were employed, a figure lower than the UK average (53%) a disparity explained by fewer opportunities for part-time work rather than ''traditional attitudes''. There still a marked sexual division in employment patterns, resulting in women being concentrated in a small number of-usually-lower-paid occupations. Women are, however, increasingly likely to take action, through bodies such as the Equal Opportunities Commission or trade unions, to seek redress for discrimination or harasshment. If, by the 1990s, it was accepted that women had a place in the world of paid work, the same could not be said for that of mainstream politics. Of the 17 MPs sent to Westminster or the 3 Members of the European Parliament, none are women, nor are there any women candidates likely to be elected in the near future. In the 1994 European elections there were 4 women candidates, including Mary Clarke-Glass, former chair of the Equal Opportunities Commission for Northern Ireland who stood for the Alliance party. Her share of the poll was 4.1%, representing a small decline on previous Alliance performances. In local government, councils have few powers but some of them include ''women's concerns'' such as playgrounds and environmental issues. Of 26 local councils, 3 have no women members, 9 have only one women member and, overall, 12.4% of councillors are women. (2) Some of the political parties, including the SDLP, Sinn Fein, the recently-formed loyalist Progressive Unionist Party and the Alliance party began, in the 1980s to construct programmes for increasing women's representation on executive committees and in lists of candidates, but women are very far from having significant influence or being close to leadership positions in most parties. Yet, large number of women have for many years, involved themselves in the work of grass-roots and voluntary sector campaigns, often unrecognised and unrewarded. The government of Northern Ireland through executive action, the limited democratic accountability and the continuing violent conflict compelled both men and women, especially from socially excluded groups, to find alternative ways of influencing policy decisions. Networks of community-based and voluntary organisations were created, pursuing goals of community improvement and dialogue across religious and political difference. This community-based channel of participation was seen by many as the basis for a revived civil societyin Northern Ireland, which will be essential for future political stability, and as an important part of the process of achieving a durable settlement. Ruth Lister, for example, saw the work of groups in working-class communities as being ''of value not only for its tangible achievements and outputs, but also for the less tangible impact it has on deprived communities and, potentially, the wider body politic.'' In her view, the work of the community groups would be part of an essential process of reconciliation and reconstruction, making a potentially important contribution to the ''search for a settlement and the process of reconstruction which would need to follow.'' (3). One of the most striking features of women and politics in Northern Ireland has been the extent to which women's participation and representation has taken place within such community-based groups. Since the mid-1970s, women's centres have been created in many rural and urban areas of Northern Ireland, initially as a result of the efforts of feminist groups. The numbers of centres grew in the 1980s, providing an invaluable space in which women could seek advice, meet other women, take part in leisure and educational activities and so on. However, many of them have been vulnerable to reductions in funding and in some areas they have been the target of the hostility of some local politicians. The increase in the number of centres stimulated the creation of campaigning groups of and for women. There is a wide variety of groups and centres, some of which have been established in response to demands from women in the area, but others of which have been the result of initiatives from local government community development officers or from charitable organisations. There has been little consistency in the funding of women's activities of any sort in Northern Ireland. The grants awarded are usually comparatively small; it is not clear which agencies are responsible for providing them and there is a lack of transparency in the criteria for making awards. Some funding bodies require that the group undertake some ''cross-community'' or reconciliation activities if they are to satisfy the criteria. Given the conditions which prevail in many parts of Northern Ireland, such requirements can undermine the ability of groups and centres to provide the necessary safe space for women, given that some local politicians and paramilitary groups have been known to take action to prevent such initiatives. While women's development is regarded for community development in general it appears often to be seen as a means of allowing women to become a ''resource'', an influence for stability, rather than to encourage women to participate on equal terms in the formulation of goals and strategies for the community. Women's groups in working-class communities find themselves required to direct their attention towards a wide range of activities, including childcare, adult education classes, youth work and other support services. The preferred objectives and outcomes, then, are those that benefit families and the community in general, an extension of women's domestic caring responsibilities. In other community groups, women are also often to be found performing many roles, given the tasks of fostering support services for other women but also expected to contribute to the wider aims of the group. Nevertheless, it is clear that such groups, even given these constraints, opened up possibilities for women to change and improve their conditions of life. For many of those involved, the experience of such activism has been positive. As the principal vehicle for women's participation in Northern Ireland, they have provided a means by which women's interests and needs can be articulated and in which differences among women can be expressed and negotiated. Much of the support for the creation of the NIWC came from women active in such groups. A window of opportunity The masculine dominance of mainstream politics and the suspicion with which the larger parties viewed community activism, seemed likely to mean that women and women's concerns, would be less likely to find representation in the future. To change this situation, however, appeared difficult. In the context of political violence and stalemate, as one writer observed, 'nothing is more important than achieving a workable, peaceful political settlement. Hence it may seem to some political scientists, politicians or citizens of NI, a political luxury or irrelevance to be thinking about the political representation of women.' (4) Such dilemmas will be familiar to those concerned with women's position and status in other conflictual or crisis situations. It was also the case that women, too, were divided about the way to a settlement of Northern Ireland's national conflict. The history of the feminist movement in the 1970s and 80s shows repeated efforts to unite around issues of common concern to catholic and protestant, unionist and nationalist women coming to grief over disagreements about national identity and allegiance. (To be continued) Who wants to rest in peace? It was indeed nice to read through Gunaseela Vithange's serialised response under the captions, ''Peace, but not Peace of the Grave'' to my half page article in the columns of the Island Newspaper, titled ''For Peace at least with the Next Sinhala Hindu New Year''. I am indeed thankful for that response, for it proved that there are at least a few like Mr. Vithanage, who would contribute in a very refined cultured and a responsible language, though on differing and dissenting points and issues. With that note let me clarify one single issue, that Mr. Vithanage took umbrage with, the issue of a ''traditional Tamil Homeland''. In my article, I commented on the Tamil Homeland, not as one that I campaign for, but as one that all Tamil political parties and groups have come to a consensus on and therefore questioned the plight of the remaining Tamil population outside that ''Homeland of the Tamil political parties''. That was one of the arguments I used against the much fancied concept of ''devolution of power to the periphery, as a means to solve the ethnic war'' as against my concept of ''sharing of power at the Centre to end the ongoing conflict of political interests''. On that basis, I wouldn't venture to agree or disagree with all that lengthy historical notes, for I don't patronise the school of thought that this haemorrhaging issue could be sorted out on ancient feudal ownership to land. Throughout history, it is evident that there had been on numerous occasions, invasions from the Dravidians, the Cholas, that left mass devastations, and there had also been very comfortable accommodation of castes from the Indian sub-continent within the Sinhala community; there had been a gradual and total immersion of Hinduism in the Buddhism that is practiced, through palace wedlocks, etc., etc. And all of them carry conceptual bearings and impacts of the society of that day, quite different to the present day society, in all aspects of social organisation, modes of production, social values, social mobility and even culture. History for me therefore, is a story interpreted and retold by those who write about the past from their point of view and never a set of legal evidence to solve present day political issues. Today, the issue is not only land, Today, the issue is land within the context of political power for ''development of one's ethnic society, according to one's own interpretation of development'', within a nation state, Thus the question today is not, who owned land where during the Kandyan or Sinhala kingdom, but how political power could be arranged within a single nation state, to accommodate all ethnic and or religious groups. I would approach the present day crisis from that point and seek to work out a solution to the question of how political power at the centre could be shared and enjoyed by all sections of the polity irrespective of caste, creed or religion. The problem today at the level of perceptions, as I see it, is that we prefer to argue about the duration of the ownership of this land and therefore the rights of the majority and the minority on that. While the question of rightful heirs is being argued, without working on a solution to the present day problem, the war rages on, bloody and awfully sordid. And this escalating war, for most youth, had only brought mutilated rest, in peace. And who wants that? I clearly speak in a language that demands an end to this unwanted, bloody and foul war through a justifiable political solution. I would therefore beg to dissent with anyone, however sincere he or she may be in justifying the historical rights of the Sinhala people, if and, let me stress on that, IF that does not lead to the end of this war. Thus my intervention in this discussion is to seek an end to this war and not to establish historical facts. Why should we not therefore talk about solutions and leave history to itself? A reply to E. A. V. Naganathan Continued from Wednesday Part II For GGP, politics was the art of the possible within the framework of a parlia-mentary demo-cracy modelled on West-minster. SJVC's was a single minded com-mitment to a grand design of establishing a 'Homeland' for the Tamils in Northern and Eastern Sri Lanka irrespective of the pragmatism or the sagaciousness of his thinking in demanding a specifically and exclusively demarcated area of the island as homeland compro-mising of the Northern and Eastern provinces. EAVN continues to advocate the cause of a Tamil national 'home-land' notwithstanding all the water ( and the blood) that has flowed under the bridge since this demand was first articulated in 1949 by the ITAK led by SJVC who had been born in Malaysia and was sent to Sri Lanka, then Ceylon, by his father for his education. Notwithstanding EAVN's admirable grasp of 18th and 19th Century European history displayed in his two articles, we have to ask of the relevance of all this to the issue of a Tamil 'homeland' in Sri Lanka. Surely what is relevant to the issue is not the history of European ethno nationalism. It is the history of nation states in the sub continent and Sri Lanka that is of relevance. The fact is that in the sub continent and Sri Lanka, multi-ethnicity and multi-religiosity were the basis of nation states, with religion as they unifying force of the underlying cultures-Hinduism in India, Buddhism in Sri Lanka, Burma and Islam in the newly created nation state of Pakistan. Perhaps like the example of the United Kingdom cited by EAVN, we may classify them as non-organic nation states. Hence there is no concept of a homeland as a political entity. While regional political organisations were recognised in the deshams or deshayas, there was no room for homelands in the motherland or mathrubhoomi. Thus EAVN's survey of European ethno nationa-lism is a self serving attempt to mislead the people of this land. Ominously, he recalls that 'the Tamil State came into existence with the invasions of Magha of Kalinga (1215AD) Chandra-bhanu from the Malaysian Peninsula (1247 AD) and Kulasekhara of Pandya (1284 AD ) with the abandonment of Yapahuwa...' Before Yapahuwa, Polon-naruwa had to be abandoned after Magha pillaged and plundered and laid waste the irrigation system that sustained the polity centred on Polonnaruwa. Curiously, he makes no reference to the Cola conquest of Northern Sri Lanka by Raja-dhiraja Rajendra II and Vira Rajendra II who were all sons of Rajendra I (1063 -9) during whose reign Cola power in India was on the wane with the rise of the Chalukyas. The Cola invaders laid waste the irrigation system of Rajarata centred on Anuradhapura and compelled the shift of the capital to Polon-naruwa and the expansion of the system of hydraulic irrigation to sustain the polity centred on Polon-naruwa. Thus it would seem that survey of European ethno nationalism is a red herring drawn to eulogize Tamil imperialism from across the Palk Straits and justify the demand for a Tamil 'homeland.' Tamil 'homeland' Cyprus and Enosis Amazingly, EAVN goes on to caution KP on the so called 'majoritarion syn-drome' by citing the case of Cyprus, displaying an inexpli-cable memory lapse in giving gratuitous advice to KP as revealed in his own words below. 'Mrs. Peiris must be aware of the majorities syndrome that afflicted the Cypriot Greeks in their dealings with the Cypriot Turks whom they treated as an 'immigrant minority' since the Cypriot Turks were certainly as much autochthones to the country as the Greeks, and were certainly not a minority in their own 'homelands,' this situation led, inevitably, to the intervention of Turkey and the partition of Cyprus by the setting up of the Turkish Republic of Northern Cyprus (TRNC) in 1983'. The relevant history of Cyprus as extracted from the Encyclopaedia Britannica gives a different story. Cyprus is part of an ancient civilisation that came to be ruled by kings, emperors, governors, sultans etc. from time to time, after subjugation by neighbouring countries and king-doms. In an interlude in 1191, King Richard the Lion Heart conquered Cyprus when he led the Crusaders, battling Arabs for the capture and control of Jerusalem. Richard I then offered Cyprus to the Knight Templars for a price. But the Templars could not raise the money and he bestowed the island to Guy de Lusignanan, the deposed king of Jerusalem. Britain took control of the island in 1878 with the agreement of the Ottoman Sultan based in Constantinople in return for a British undertaking to help the Sultan against Russia. The ethnic Greeks that constituted 80 percent of the population demanded 'enosis' or union with Greece. In 1914, during the First World War, Cyprus was made a crown colony of Great Britain. After the Second World War the demand for enosis was revived backed up with terrorism while the Turkish Cypriot com-munity agitated for partition. Britain how-ever rejected both enosis and the demand for partition. At that time Archbishop Makarios (AM) who later became the first president of the Republic of Cyprus was advocating enosis. In 1956 AM was exiled by the British as he was suspected of colla-borating with Colonel Grivas who was directing the clandestine terrorist network in Cyprus. In 1959 AM agreed to a compromise and an independent republic was declared with a House of Representatives of 50 members, 70 per cent of whom were to be elected by Greek Cypriots and the balance 30 per cent by the Turkish Cypriots. In 1960 AM became the first President of the Republic and was re-elected in 1968 and in 1973. During his period of office however, there was a resurgence of the demand for enosis backed by terrorism masterminded from the mainland. In 1974, the Greek Cypriot National Guard, whose officers were all Greeks, carried out a coup planned by the ruling army junta in Greece. This led to the invasion of Cyprus by Turkey and the declaration of a Turkish Cypriot Republic in the northern third of the island now garrisoned by the Turkish army Archbishop Makarios fled to London. This cynical insistence on the merger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces notwithstanding the non feasibility of the exercise politically, economically, financially and militarily leads one to the conclusion that the intention is to merge the 'homeland' with Tamil Nadu once the merger is constitutionally conceded. Some insight to these plans is revealed by the article of EAVNS in 'The Island' Newspaper of 7th August 1997, in an article entitled 'Kamalika Pieris and Tamil ethonationalism'. He elaborates on the 'credo' fo the Tamil speaking people first expressed in a Resolution at the Trincomalee convention of the so called Federal Party (ITAK) in 1951 and as restated at the Thimpu talks and embodied in the joint communique of the Tamil speaking political groups issued on 13th July 1995. This communique, after elaborating on the right to nationhood makes a fourth point as follows: 'They have the right to citizenship and to fundamental rights in Sri Lanka'. Further on in the article EAVN bluntly states as follows as to citizenships of the Tamil 'homeland' of Eelam. 'Citizenship will be open to all Tamil speaking peoples of Eelam origin in any part of the world.' Thus when it comes to Tamil Eelam, neither the Sinhalese or other minorities are autochthones! Nevertheless, all citizens of ealamare by right entitled to Sri Lankan citizenship. It would appear that the rest of Sri Lanka is part of a Greater Ealam ! And this raises the question of the rights of the non Eelam citizens to live and travel in the ''homeland''. Perhaps the model is the pre Nelson Mandela apartheid South Africa with its pass Laws! The idea of a Tamil homeland and a political orgaisation to realise this idea can clearly be traced to SJVC. AJW in his biography ''SJV Chelvanayakam and The Crisis of Sri Lankan Tamil Nationalism' observes as follows on the genesis of the idea of a separate state. ''In 1936 he assisted two Ceylon Tamils who sent petitions to Britain requesting a separate state for their people. The petitioners were Dr. S. Ponniah, a major in the Ceylon Defence Force, and a notary of Vadmarachchi named Vallipuranathan, both of whom showed their drafts to Chelvanayakam to find his views. While he was not discouraging, he also did not give them open support'' (Pag 6). ''Chelvanayakm, Naganathan and Vanniasingham and their immediate supporters proceeded with their plans to launch the movement. Chelvanayakam had advanced the idea of federalism as early as 1946-7, but had not definitely articulated it at the time with a view to winning the ACTC's approval; probably he intended to use it as a fallback position. When he broke ranks with Ponnambalam, he was not certain with which state the Northern and Eastern Provinces should federate. He had advocated a link-up with India, but speakers from Madras who came to Colombo had cold-shouldered the idea. Thus A. Ratnayake, a member of the Senanayake Cabinet, said at the second reading debate of the Indian and Pakistani Citizenship Bill in August 1948. ''The honourable Member for Kankesanthurai (Chelvanayakam) is a dreamer of dreams. He, in his dreams, sees certain visions of Ceylon according to his heart's desire. He, for instance, would like to see Ceylon divided into two parts; one part consisting of the Sinhalese-speaking population, and the other of the Tamil-speaking population, and he would like to federate the Northern and Eastern parts of Ceylon. A Ratnayake's statement in parliament is underscored by a resolution moved by SJVC and adopted at the first national convention of the Federal Party held in 1951 in Trincomalee. It was resolved that the capital city of he proposed Tamil ''homeland' or antonomous state consisting of the Northern and Eastern Provinces would be Trincomalee. It is evident that the sovereignty of the Government of Sri Lanka over the whole island was not an issue in proposing this resolution. And it is not merely a formal question of sovereignty because of the serious implications for the defence of Sri Lanka as a whole arising from the crucial strategic importance of the habour of Trincomalee for he defence of the Island. SJVC's commitment to Tamil Nadu raises some doubt as to his loyalty to the land of his adoption. For, as mentioned before, SJVC was born in Malaysia and was sent to Sri Lanka for his schooling, along with his mother, while the father remained in Malaysia to earn enough to support his family. Surely SJVC must have been aware of the Bumiputhra policy adopted by the government of Malaysia after the anti-Chinese ethnic riots of 1969. This policy of deliberate discrimination by prescribing ethnic ratios for education and employment and land alienation that were highly favourable to the Malay citizens of that land do not seem to have focussed his mind on the highly favourable ratios of education employment and even land alienation for the indigenous (homeland) Tamils vis-a-vis the majority Sinhala population as well the other minorities in post independent Sri Lanka. The ethnic riots in Malaysia do not seem to have given rise to any doubts as to whether in the Sri Lanka context, he was being pragmatic (quite apart from being wise) in demanding a Tamil ''homeland''. Having himself obtained his education in this country and practised successfully as a lawyer in Colombo at the bar at Hulftsdorf and was also appointed Kings Counsel. From his practice he earned money to buy two tea plantations in the heartland of the Sinhala people. Hence it does seem strange that he had not a pang of conscience for the land of his adoption. His was a single minded devotion to the cause of a Tamil ''homeland''. SJVC was defeatd in he election of 1952 by the UNP candidate S. Natesan. This defeat, however, did not discourage or deter SLVC from the single minded pursuit of the demand for a Tamil ''homeland''. SJVC now decided to actively advocate a Tail university in the North. AJW in his biography of SJVC observes as follows in regard to this demand. ''That at a meeting of the Federal Party in Kankesanthurai on 25th July 1953, a resolution was adopted demanding the establishment of a Tamil University-something which had not happened since the country became independent. ''This did not mean that the FP was conceding the national university of Ceylon should become Sinhala, it merely reflected the growing fears of the Ceylon Tamils that Sinhala exclusion would damage the prospects for higher education. Thus even before the Sinhala movement had advanced to the point of demanding that the Sinhala oriented Vidyalankara and Vidyodaya Pirivenas (centres of Buddhist learning) be made universities, Ceylon Tamil opinion as represented by the Federal Party, was seeking in advance to safeguard Tamil interest by asking for a Tamil University'' (page 46). So Tamil chauvinism anticipated Sinhala chauvinism with deadly consequences for the people of this multi-ethnic multi-religious and multi-cultural island nation. It is an interesting intollectual speculation whether pre-emptive chauvinism is a moral and ethical basis for making political demands. Apart from this intellectual speculation, we have to take into acceount the fact that the Tamil language has the potential to become a much more effective medium of instruction for higher education than Sinhala because of the population of 60 million Tamil people in the state of Tamil Nadu. For with such a large market for text books and other instruction, translations from foreign languages become much more feasible for economic and financial reasons. Thereby, the Tamil language can be made into an effective means of absorbing the science and technology of the West and now of the East as well. Given the mindset of SJVC, we can with justification interpret this advocacy of a Tamil University in the North as a first step to further the objective of a Tamil 'homeland' which in the larger term was to be merged with Tamil Nadu across the Palk Straits. EAVN's memory lapse in regard to Cyprus becomes explicable, if we look upon the example of Cyprus as an illustration of what India can do for the cause of a Tamil ''homeland'' while helping itself in the process. It is not surprising the EAVN continues to advocate the cause of a Tamil national ''homeland''. For, as pointed out at the outset, EAVN has observed that ''the Tamil state came into existence with the invasions of magha of Kalinga (1215 AD) Chandrabanu of the Malaysian penninsula (1247 AD) and the Kulasekera of Pandya (1248 AD). 'Many sons and daughters of the older generation of Tamil politicians are safely ensconced in Madras (now Chennai) running Tamil information and other centres while promoting the cause of Tamil Eelam in New Delhi, apparently to make up for the failure of the previous generations of the Tamil leadership to present the case for Tamil Nationality and self government, logically and cogently, to the Donoughmore and Soulbury Commissions as EVANS would have had it done had he been in the Tamil leadership at that time. The cost in 'blood, sweat and tears'' to use Churchill's memorable phrase utered in facing up to another fascist onslaught, has however to be borne by the citizens of this island homeland, Sri Lanka, be they Sinhala, Tamil, Muslim or Burgher. Concluded From the book 'The Palm of His Hand'
by E.C.T. Candappa Chapter 14 About the author Continued from yesterday ‘But the Tamils saw things differently. They were now part of the country and had been so for generations. Even the Indian migrant labourers brought in by the British to work the plantations felt the same way. In any case the Indian government would not have the Tamils. They had enormous problems of their own after Independence. ‘And so the battle lines were being drawn. ‘Add to this the internal rivalries within the main ruling party. ‘When D S Senanayake fell off a horse on Galle Face Green while taking his daily early morning constitutional, the correct successor should have been the brilliant Minister of Health and Local Government, Solomon Bandaranaike. He came from an aristocratic family. His father was a big landowner and hob-nobbed with the British governors and even entertained royalty in his palatial residence in the country. He was honoured with a knighthood. He had his son educated in England, at Oxford where the young Solomon shone, excelling in his studies as well as in public speaking. He was an outstanding orator and became the President of the Oxford Majlis. Among his contemporaries were Anthony Eden, later Sir Anthony and Prime Minister of Britain, and Krishna Menon, later Foreign Minister of India. ‘When the young Solomon returned to Ceylon, he did a few things which made all his political actions thereafter somewhat suspect. He gave up the minority religion of Christianity which he had earlier professed, or at any rate into which he had been baptised with no less than a governor as godfather and whose name West Ridgeway also formed part of his own. He then assumed the Buddhist religion. He maintained to the end that he did so out of conviction and it might have washed if he did not become such a figure of prevarication and expediency in the course of his political life. He then shed his western clothes but only when in the public eye, and adopted the garment of the rural Sinhalese. He adhered to every other Western custom, wearing western clothes at home and when travelling abroad, speaking in English in private, eating after the English manner even when eating native food. It was a joke that he ate egg hoppers with a fork and knife.’ ‘There’s nothing wrong in that surely?’ Bill said. ‘Absolutely,’ said Raj, ‘except that it compromised his identification with the masses - the Sinhalese masses. ‘And it displayed a certain duplicity for the sake of political expediency. He wanted to appear as a common man. He was anything but a common man. He was an extraordinarily uncommon and gifted man. And he ushered in perhaps one of the greatest social revolutions in modern times. It was certainly greater by far than the gaining of Independence from the British, in fact, and the far-reaching consequences that it achieved. ‘And yet how sour it has turned, and how soon.’ ‘What do you mean?’ This time the chimes of midnight interrupted them from across the Railway Station. ‘My goodness,’ said Raj, ‘it’s midnight. I’m afraid we’ll have to call it a day, Bill. I start work early tomorrow. Parliament’s sitting.’ ‘And I leave for Negombo at seven. So I start earlier than you.’ ‘Well, good luck to you. What are you doing at Negombo?’ ‘Aw, Pat’s showing me around. A couple of fishing villages. A YCW cell. A fisherman’s co-operative.’ ‘Good. Be careful what you eatÖand drink. Not a very clean place. They’ll hit you with a lot of toddy and arrack. Just be careful.’ Chapter 15 Bill’s second letter to his brother Dear Frank, How’s tricks? I hope you are keeping fine. And Uncle Eric and Aunt Martha. Sorry to hear that Aunt Martha had to go for a hip replacement. Tell her to take it easy. Good to hear Uncle Eric won a couple of quid at the pools. Good on him. Pity about Collingwood. So near and yet so far. Well, maybe next year. Life is great over here. I’m getting to see more of the country and to love the people here. They’re a bit like us, Frank. Like a good time. Do anything for a mate. But they’re a complex mob. There are many racial groups - the Sinhalese who form about 70 per cent of the population, the Tamils who make up about ten per cent, the Moslems who make up another ten and the other ten are made up of Malays, Burghers, Chinese, Poms, Eurasians and a sprinkling of other Europeans among the Christian missionaries - Italians, Irish, Dutchmen, Frenchmen, German, Czechoslovakians plus Americans and a few other nationalities. Ah, a pretty good mix. But among the main local groups there are other divisions of caste. Both among the Sinhalese and Tamils, you have the upper, middle and lower caste people. Conservatives do not inter-marry, although the young folks don’t care very much about such divisions. It’s funny even Catholics observe such distinctions. The farmers are on the top, the fishermen are in the middle, and the dhobies, the laundrymen, are pretty much at the bottom. There are others like the drummers who are not too high either. Then you have the blokes who are English-educated and those educated in the swabasha, the local languages. There’s a bit of inferiority/superiority between them. In the course of my work with the YCW I meet a wide spectrum of people - young, old, educated, semi-educated and downright illiterate. That’s a small number by the way. Ceylon now has the highest literacy rate in the world: ninety six per cent. That’s way higher than Oz, mate. Tell Aunt Martha that. She’ll be surprised, no doubt. As a visitor from overseas here to observe the working of the YCW, I have to make sure I don’t take sides or even appear to take sides. I have to be careful to mingle with all sorts and not appear to favour one group. I have to talk to Sinhalese and Tamils especially in this context. A Tamil bloke asked me why I spent more time in the company of the Sinhalese. I was amazed that I had even appeared to do so. The people who are not educated in English - the swabasha crowd as they are called - are unhappy when I spend time with the English-educated mob. In the YCW there are highly educated, wealthy intellectuals who are in the movement for what they can give. They give their valuable time and a lot of financial help. They often invite me to their homes for dinner or want to take me to resorts. Here again I have to be extremely wary. I cannot offend good people by appearing snooty. If I turn down invitations it might be construed that I am acting superior because I am white. If I accept them, some will think I prefer the company of the rich. So I try to keep out of the crossfire. I’ll give you a few examples of what I do to keep the balance. One of the YCW organisers in Negombo, a coastal fishing town, invited me to visit him for a weekend. Oh, it was a glorious experience. Remember, my commitment was to experience the life of the ordinary people. There are heaps of people who would have been glad to offer me luxurious living quarters. But that’s not the name of the game. Well, in this fishing village I was made to feel very much a member of the family. I slept in one room with eight others. Father, mother, sons, daughters all sleep in one large hut made of woven coconut fronds built close to the beach. It’s so cool at night you sleep like a baby. I was given a freshly laundered sarong. Imagine a one-legged pyjama, that’s what it’s like. There is no coat to go with it. You hold the thing up with a belt. It’s tricky though. The other fellows know how to tie it firmly at the waist. But I was scared it would have come down any minute. In the morning we all bathed at a well. I held the sarong up with my teeth while I bathed in the cool water. The whole village, it seemed, turned up to see the white man - ëSuddha’ as they call me - bathe. I didn’t mind. You draw the water from the well with a large bucket of water and pour it over your head. Great stuff. Mine host felt he had to share everything with me - even my shoes. He does not wear shoes as a rule, only thongs. But it gave him a bit of importance to hobble a bit in my shoes, a few sizes bigger than his. But I could not walk about barefoot and I had to request my shoes back. There were a lot of chooks and pigs about. Everywhere there were open fires over which breakfast was being cooked. The women smoke cigars. Unbelievable. Breakfast was a large fish for each person cooked over an open fire. I’ll never forget this as long as I live. I was wondering whether it was well cooked or not and whether I should eat it or not. Of course I did. It was all right. Another time I spent a weekend with a wealthy Sinhalese man - Bertie Weerasinghe. Works with the Asia Foundation. He had his house - they call their big homes bungalows and it’s not bungalows the way we mean it. He lived in Colombo by the sea. I told him I wanted to watch fishermen and go out to sea with them if possible. He said ‘no worries’ and fixed it for the following day. I went in the early dawn with some middle-aged fishermen in an outrigger canoe. The men are lean and bronzed by the sun. They wear only a cloth to cover their loins. The cloth is fixed to a string around the waist. They gave me a tin to collect water from the sea and throw it on the canvas sail to keep it taut. When we came back with the catch, I watched the fishermen lay out all the fish on the beach. Then an old bloke came around carrying a big stick and there was another bloke behind him carrying a box. This man I was told was a mudalali, the chief. The boats were his and the fishermen worked for him. He pointed out what fish he needed for his personal use and told them how much he would pay for the rest of the catch. He is a middleman. He buys from the fishermen at a cheap price and sells it to the main fish market at a huge profit. He is a father-figure to them. He gives them loans at huge interest and looks after them. Evenings are not what they are in Australia, especially as I am totally immersed in YCW work. I miss all the sport. There’s big coverage on the wireless. School cricket and club cricket are big here. The folk here are all cricket-crazy. In the evenings, mostly, Father Grutzner and I, sometimes the Frenchman, Father Erignac and the Sinhalese Father Fernando join to listen to the stories that some of the city workers, port workers tell. It amazes me how they can discuss what has happened in Parliament the same day. They read the afternoon papers which give good coverage of such stuff. At home the lads will be discussing the footy or some other sport. Sometimes TU leaders come to Father Grutzner seeking advice. He gives it to them, always well thought out, very clear and from a Christian point of view. He never tries to manipulate them. Sometimes I wander around the Pettah, the area where I live. It is the main business district of Colombo. Very busy, very noisy and very dusty. Without exception all major crime is represented here. There are opium dens and traffic in marijuana, extortionist gangs, gambling cartels and poky dives where small time gambling takes place. There’s heavy, organised prostitution on the streets with, I understand, disease-ridden women. People have warned me against wandering out alone at night. It doesn’t bother me. They see me as a foreigner. Anyway I use a smattering of Sinhala and they are quite happy with that. You get the usual larrikin type, of course, everywhere. I was coming back after a short walk from the Fort - which is where the big companies and the big shops are - and I had to pass a group of young lads. As I passed them one of them said, ‘para suddha’. Now Frank, ëpara’ is a short form of ëparaya,’ which is term of contempt used for a low bred fellow. I walked back to them and hailed them most courteously, ‘Ayubowan, mahattaya,’ I said which would mean ‘G’day Sir’. I know they don’t go together but that’s what I said and then I said to the bloke: ‘Mama para suddha? Oya para Sinhalaya’ which means ‘Am I a para white man? Then you are a para Sinhalese.’ And I walked away. After a moment of stunned silence, the rest of the youngsters laughed out loud to the embarrassment of the other bloke. We have another Australian connection here. There’s a lot of aid that has come to Ceylon through the Colombo Plan. You may remember that it took this name from the fact that the prime ministers of the British Commonwealth met in Colombo to start this scheme, assisting the under-developed countries within the Commonwealth with equipment and training. Our Menzies was here for that. Well, there’s a lot of that stuff idling here. I was travelling through a village once when I saw a huge Australian-made Fordson tractor sitting in the middle of a paddock. Grass had grown round it, a creeper had climbed it and birds were sitting on it. Obviously it was meant for huge tracts of land, and it could not even be turned around here. In the next field there was a farmer clad only in a cloth covering his loins using a mechanised rotary hoe gifted by Red China, and this was far more appropriate. That’s how China is gaining ground here. Continued tomorrow |
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