Silent majority must raise their voices loudly and clearly
by Shannie
The tragedy of Sri Lanka has been the growth, since the mid fifties, of ethno-religious nationalism and the consequent destabilisation of our pluralist society. Over the years, our political leadership, even though perhaps realising the perils of it, went along this slippery road for political gain. It was only the Left, the old Left of Samasamajists and Communists, who initially refused to succumb to these vocal yet obscurantist forces. In the end, the lure of political power engulfed even them. But, all through this capitulation to narrow nationalism, there remained, within all political parties, the civil society, the academic community and religious leadership, a core element with a commitment to liberalism, pluralism and moderation.
But unfortunately, this liberal element has always been on the defensive and remained silent when confronted by vocal and sometimes violent nationalist forces. In this week’s column we survey the growth of narrow nationalism and the disastrous effect it has had on the country and urge that the liberal and pluralist men and women in our country, the silent majority, must now raise their voices and ensure that the voices of moderation are heard loud and clear now.
Growth of linguistic nationalism
The rise of ethno-nationalism in the mid-fifties was perhaps a natural process following four centuries of colonial rule. The colonial rulers certainly did much to develop the economy of the country – the road and railway network, the opening up of a plantation economy, the introduction of a system of justice and rule of law, the provision of educational facilities throughout the country and the granting of universal suffrage as prelude to greater self-rule were some of the positive features of colonial rule. Even though it may rightly be argued that all this was for the economic exploitation of a colony under their rule. This exploitation resulted in a privileged position for the English-educated local elite who dominated business and commerce and owned vast acres of coconut and rubber plantations and provided the back-bone for the public administrative system.
Jaffna Hindu College
At the time of independence, the Sinhala and Tamil-educated found themselves therefore in a most disadvantaged position. Among the Tamils, however, the Jaffna Tamils were comparatively better-off. The Christian missionaries and the Hindu bodies had established a network of good English schools throughout the Peninsula. The Christian missionaries had done so in all parts of the country but unlike the Hindu Sabhas and the Ramakrishna Mission which established schools in Jaffna and some in the East, the educational work of Buddhist societies was only sporadic. So the Jaffna Tamil had a head-start in English education and was able to fit into the clerical positions in public administration. The Muslim and Tamil businessmen also showed more enterprise than their Sinhala counterparts and were able to engage in small businesses throughout the country. And so the Sinhala-educated found themselves sharing economic power disproportionate to their numbers.

The Hartal of 1952 had opened up a new political reality. The resignation of the incumbent Prime Minister from the ruling English-educated elitist class made S W R D Bandaranaike realize that there was then an opportunity to dislodge the UNP from power. He entered into a no-contest pact with the Left parties in preparation for the next General Election. But he also decided to provide leadership to the Sinhala nationalist forces who felt frustrated by the English-educated elite. This brought together in the Bandaranaike-led coalition.
Professor Kingsley de Silva notes, an array of forces ‘which had hitherto been unwilling to unite in support of a common programme – the Sinhalese school teachers, Ayurvedic physicians, Sinhalese writers, and the bhikkhus. Concentrating their attention on the superior educational advantages enjoyed by the Tamil minority, they set their sights on the demolition if the language settlement arrived at in 1944-45 – that Sinhala and Tamil should replace English as the national languages – and campaigned for ‘Sinhala only’, the slogan which became the main plank of the coalition.’
de Silva continues: ‘For the Tamils the implications of the change in language policy were starkly clear. It meant that they would be at a great disadvantage in future in employment, in the administration of the country, and eventually in the professions as well. But more importantly, once language became the determinant of national consciousness, there were fears that the Tamils’ identity as a distinct ethnic group would be eroded through a policy of assimilation. This transformation of nationalism through the prominence accorded to nationalism as a badge of identity affected them as well – language became a focal point of a new ethnic consciousness, of two rival nationalisms.’ (Sri Lanka’s Troubled Inheritance, 2007)
Since the triumph of the Bandaranaike-led coalition in the 1956 Election and the promulgation of the ‘Sinhala Only’ Act (frustrating Bandaranaike’s original draft which provided for concessions for the use of Tamil), many heads of state have attempted to arrive at a settlement that provided for power-sharing. Bandaranaike himself and Dudley Senanayake entered into agreements with S J V Chelvanayakam in this regard. J R Jayewardene had to succumb to arm-twisting by the Indians. But Premadasa and Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunge recognized Tamil grievances and attempted to negotiate a reasonable settlement.
Despite being frustrated by LTTE intransigence, Chandrika Kumaratunge presented to the country a set of consensus proposals only to find her political opponents back-tracking. But with the present Mahinda Rajapaksa regime, we seem to have come a full circle and find him in the same position as S W R D Bandaranaike was in the mid fifties – surrounded by hard-line Sinhala nationalists.
Professor Kingsley de Silva recalls an incident in 1956 when Bandaranaike invited a group of opposition members of Parliament to discuss the draft Sinhala only bill. When the group met the Prime Minister, they found to their surprise that he was flanked by two Ministers sympathetic to the language extremists, and worse still, by three of the language extremists themselves: L H Mettananda, Mapitigama Buddharakkita Thera (later the first accused in the Bandaranaike murder), and Baddegama Wimalawansa Thera. The language extremists referred to the Left leaders and others who advocated moderation as ‘traitors’. It is the same language that is used today by the chauvinists to describe anybody who opposes their narrow nationalistic line. As in the 1956 incident, it was surprising to see Wimal Weerawansa at a press conference on Tuesday being flanked by senior SLFP ministers and denouncing his political opponents as associates of the LTTE. The moderate voices cannot remain silent and allow the country to be once again made hostages to extremism.
Nehru’s warning
It is good to recall what Jawarharlal Nehru once stated when he philosophised on conditions that affected human behaviour. Moral considerations, he said, may influence an individual but their effect on a group is far less, and the larger the group the less is their effect on it. And it is easier, especially in the modern world, to influence the group by insidious propaganda. And yet sometimes, though rarely, the group itself rises to a height of moral behaviour, forcing the individual to forget his narrow and selfish ways.
‘War produces both these reactions, but the dominant tendency is a release from moral responsibility and the collapse of the standards that civilization has so laboriously built up. Successful war and aggression lead to a justification and continuance of this policy, to imperialist domination and ideas of a master race. Defeat results in frustration and the nursing of feelings of revenge. In either event, hatred and the habit of violence grow. There is ruthlessness and brutality, and a refusal to try to understand the other’s viewpoint. And thus the future is conditioned and more wars and conflicts follow with all their attendant consequences.’ (The Discovery of India, 1946). [courtesy: The Island]




3 Comments
If you compare the missionary school buildings in Colombo with that in Jaffna, schools in Colombo far outweighs that in Jaffna.
The real difference is made by the teachers who came from Madras. There were many Kerala and Iyer teachers from Madras came to Ceylon to teach and they found it easy in Jaffna because of the Language. Also the dry climated forced them to consider education as the only option. There was no harbour, import/export activities in Jaffna to employ people in all levels. Lack of other avenues made them to focus on education.
Missionary school buildings did not make the difference. Go around Jaffna and Go around Colombo to make a rough estimate the floor area.
K.Easwaran
totally agree that liberal element of our society kept silent when racist and nationalists became vocal and violent at times of where efforts were made to resolve national question.
What silent majority? The majority is very vocal and behind the President. If you believe in the Christian doctrine of original sin, check the majority out for a good example. Not that the Tamils are any better - look at what was done to the Muslims of the North. Sri Lankans (both Sinhalese and Tamils) need to go through the same process that Germans has to go through after WWII for come to terms with the wrongs they did. But all one sees in sickening triumphalism. Among Tamils, what one senses developing beyond the initial shock of these events is a mix of despair and a desire for vengeance. Silent majority? Yeah, right.