It is said, sometimes with the appearance of
uttering a profundity, that we live in an age of
transition. This is a truism. All ages are transitory
and in a changing world, man moulds and shapes
institutional frames in order that such frames may,
hopefully, provide a suitable base for his further
advancement and development. The
Presidential Commission that has been recently
appointed to inquire into and report on, that which
I would like to describe as the question of devolution
and that which some others may prefers to categorise as
decentralisation, affords yet another opportunity to
the people of Sri Lanka to fashion a constitutional
frame which can assist in resolving the differences
that exist between the two major communities that
inhabit this country.
Constitutional frames cannot, however be created in
vacuo. There is a need to, understand and accept some
of the basic facts which relate to the ethnic question
as it exists today. It is sometimes the case that when
confronted with the need to ascertain facts in this
area, many are driven by an almost irresistible impulse
to engage in an historical study and
depending upon the inclination of the particular
individual, such a study may extend backwards to the
colonial era of the British or to the time of the
Portuguese invasion, or to the period covered by the
Mahavamsa or for that matter to Prince Vijaya.
Perhaps a keen student of history may even extend such
a study into the stone age and if he was
philosophically or religiously inclined, he may go on
to examine the question of first causes or original
sin.
One may be left with the impression that the whole
ethnic question in this country can be resolved simply
by a determination of the question as to which of the
two communities was the first to arrive in Sri Lanka.
What does it matter who arrived first? Or is it the
position that those who arrived later should be dumped
into the sea? Or for that matter are the late arrivals
to be discriminated against on the ground that they are
late arrivals? Does it matter that some are regarded as
invaders, and some others as settlers? Are we to visit
the sins of the so called invaders on their descendants
born centuries later and on generations yet unborn? Or
is it that the descendants of these invaders have
inherited a certain propensity towards invasive habits
and should therefore be kept in a state of
semi-subservience? Is that the path to a united Sri
Lanka?
There are others who speak of geopolitical realities
and assert knowledgeably that the ethnic question in
Sri Lanka must be considered in the context of the
existence of the State of Tamil Nadu in Southern India.
Admittedly, politics is often a function of geography
and if Sri Lanka had been situated, say, in the South
Pole, it's ethnic question may have been viewed in
another dimension. But does this mean that we are to
await changes in the contours of continents, before
learning to live together in this land of ours?
Again there are those who when called upon to look at
the facts start from the most recent demand for
political reform. They point out to the
unreasonableness of the demand
for a separate State and hearing them one may well
be lead to the belief that if the demand was dropped,
everything would be alright and there would be no
ethnic question in this country.
There are others who "talk facts" on the basis of
emotions that may have arisen in consequence of the
most recent instance of communal violence or for that
matter the most recent instance of the abuse of State power.
It is this which has been described as the politics of
the last atrocity. But let us not be
na�ve - matters are not as simplistic
as all that. The politics of the last atrocity can only
lead to brave, speeches and perhaps to further
atrocities.
Is it not time that thinking sections of the people of
this country whether they be Sinhala or Tamil, come out
and state openly that they have had enough of this
nonsense and that such attitudes do not help us to
resolve the ethnic question as it exists today - a
problem that is becoming increasingly difficult to
ignore and sweep under the carpet. The Republican
Constitutional of 1978 gave a new Constitutional
status to Tamil as a
national language of this country and protected, in
so far as constitutional provisions can protect any
right or liberty, the fundamental language rights of
the Tamils of Sri Lanka. But if man does not live by
bread alone, equally he does not live by language
alone.
The ethnic question in this country is not merely a
matter of language rights. The basic problem remains
one of employment and development- a problem which
admittedly the Tamil minority shares with the Sinhala
majority. It is true that unemployment is something
which concerns the Sinhala youth as well - concerned
them to the extent that thousands of them were prepared
to die and did in fact die in the attempt to change the
structure that existed in 1971.
But there is this significant difference. In Sri Lanka,
state power has at all times been concentrated in and
derived from the centre and during the past several
years this has meant that such state power has been
effectively in the hands of the majority community and
it is not surprising that those who enjoy state power
in a parliamentary democracy, should have tended to
extend their patronage to their own electoral
areas.
At a time when more than 60% of the economy is in
State hands, one consequence has been that the public
sector has become an almost closed avenue for
employment in so far as the Tamils were concerned. It
matters not whether such discrimination was justified
or whether there was a need to right historical
imbalances. The pursuit of historical first causes
leads us only to pre historic man.
Again it is not without significance that Tamil youth
neither participated nor died in the insurrection of
1971. They continued to live with their feelings of
disaffection. They did not participate not because
problems of unemployment and development were less
acute in the northern province.
They did not participate because national feelings
which spring from a common language and culture
continue to remain a potent force in the political
arena - more potent than that which springs from
divisions of class and so on.
It is not surprising that this should be so. After
all, why is it that we speak different languages? Why
did we not all speak the same language? Was all this an
accident or was it that different peoples in different
environments, in the early dawn of man's history, found
certain sounds in resonance with their being and
natural to them?
But language is not only a matter of sounds.
Language communicates
the richest thoughts and gives expression to the
noblest feelings of man. It is related to the thoughts
and feelings of a particular community as that
community evolved over a period of hundreds of
years.
Language is not a matter of cosmetics and the
recurrent claims of the French in Canada, of the
Catholics in Northern Ireland, of the Scots and the
Welsh in Great Britain show the need to recognise that
matters of language and religion are deep-seated in the
human consciousness and can neither be ignored nor
suppressed.
The Tamils in the island of Sri Lanka just as much as
the Sinhalese, are a people with the consciousness of a
common language,
a common culture and
a common tradition.
Questions of consciousness are finally questions of
perception
At the present stage in our history it cannot be denied
that the Tamils of this country have that feeling of
togetherness - the feeling of belonging to a distinct
nationality - feelings which were heightened by the
decision of the Government of Mrs. Sirimavo
Bandaranaike, to standardise admission
to the University of Sri Lanka.
It was said that rural students should be given the
opportunity of entering the University. Whatever may
have been the justification for the scheme of
standardisation the undoubted result was that many of
the most intelligent and able students amongst the
Tamil community in the northern province did not find a
place in the University. Many of them found their place
in the streets of Jaffna and gave cohesion and
leadership to what is now sometimes described as the
terrorist movement - a movement which has manifested
itself by acts of armed robbery and political violence.
The fact is that if you have a system which excludes
good students from entering the University and it so
happens, shall we say, that most of such students who
are excluded belong to the minority community, it
should not be surprising that the country has a problem
on its hands.
There was another consequence. Those who had the
capacity and who were adventurous enough, emigrated
abroad and carried with them the scars of
discrimination. They lobbied in their host countries
and sought press and governmental support and secured
the passing of resolutions such as was recently passed
by the State legislature of Massachusetts. When
such resolutions are passed, there is sometimes an
angry response from sections of the majority community
here in Sri Lanka and brave speeches are made and one
brave speech leads to another brave speech and a
sufficient number of brave speeches leads to a communal
disturbance.
So what can we do about all this? Neither the righteous
rhetoric of the first cause nor the politics of the
last atrocity can give us meaningful answers.
It is the perception of the Tamil community that during
the past several years State power has been wielded in
a manner discriminatory to the Tamil
community in the area of education, employment and
development. The question at the present time is not
whether such discrimination was historically
inevitable, practically justified or politically wise.
But unless the people of Sri Lanka, even at this point
of time, recognise the existence of the problem as
perceived by thinking sections of the Tamil community,
no institutional frame can ever be established for the
effective and peaceful administration of the affairs of
this nation.
Let us not fool ourselves about this. People have been
killing each other in Northern Ireland for the past 20
years and its ethnic question remains unsolved. A state
exists to protect and serve all its people,
irrespective of race, language or religion and it is on
this basis alone that the people in turn give their
allegiance to the State. It is this allegiance
voluntarily given, which cements the constitution of
any political State. A State that seeks the continued
loyalty of its citizens must be perceived to treat them
equally, and any effective constitutional frame must
permit and encourage the economic growth of each of the
major communities that inhabit this country.
Of course, over the past fifty years or so, there has
been no failure to recognise the need to establish a
new institutional frame, the need to decentralise
administration and the need to devolve a larger measure
of power on the districts. It is trite and repetitive
wisdom that a centralised administration which served
the colonial power in a colonial era and which drew its
strength from the agent of that power in Colombo namely
the Governor and which linked the Governor with the
Government Agent and the Kachcheri system in the
districts and further linked the Government Agent with
the Village Headman in the villages, had become less
and less relevant as more and more power shifted from
the imperial master to the people of this country.
As early as 1928, the Donoughmore Commission
recommended the establishment of Provincial Councils on
the ground that it was desirable that a large part of
the administrative work of the centre should come into
the hands of persons resident in the districts and thus
more directly in contact with the needs of the area.
Twelve years later the Executive Committee of Local
Administration, chaired by the late Mr. S. W. R. D.
Bandaranaike considered the proposal of the Donoughmore
Commission, and in 1940 the State Council approved the
establishment of Provincial Councils. The war
intervened and nothing was in fact done, but in 1947,
on the floor of the House of Representatives, the late
Mr. Bandaranaike again declared his support for the
establishment of Provincial Councils.
In 1955, the Choksy Commission recommended the
establishment of Regional Councils to take over the
functions that were exercised by the Kachcheris and in
May 1957, the Government of the late Mr. S. W. R. D.
Bandaranaike presented a draft of the proposed Bill for
the establishment of Regional Councils.
Subsequently in July 1957,
the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayagam Pact made provision
for direct election to Regional Councils and provided
inter alia that the subjects covered by the Regional
Councils should include agriculture, co-operatives,
lands and land development, colonisation and education.
The Pact however did not survive the organised
opposition of sections of the Sinhala community. an
opposition which included the United National Party of
that time and in the event, the late Mr.
Bandaranaike succumbed to the pressures of the Eksath
Bhikku Peramuna which had brought him into power an
year earlier.
In July 1963, the Government of Mrs. Bandaranaike
declared that "early consideration" would be given to
the question of the establishment of District Councils
to replace the, Kachcheries and the Government
appointed a Committee on District Councils and the
report of this Committee contained a draft of the
proposed Bill to establish District Councils but again
nothing was in fact done.
In 1965, the Government of the late Mr. Dudley
Senanayake declared that it would give "earnest
consideration" to the establishment of District
Councils and in
1968 a draft Bill approved by the Dudley Senanayake
Cabinet was presented as a White Paper and this
Bill provided for the establishment of District
Councils consisting of elected members of Parliament,
Mayors of Municipalities and Chairmen of Local Bodies
situated within the Districts. There was provision for
the establishment of a District Fund and the subjects
within the competence of the District Councils included
agriculture and food, animal husbandry, cottage
industries, rural development, education and social
welfare.
The District Councils Bill of 1968 suffered
the same fate as that which befell the Regional
Councils Bill and the Bandaranaike - Chelvanayagam Pact
of 1957. Ironically enough, this time round the
opposition to the Bill was spearheaded by the Sri Lanka
Freedom Party which professed to follow the policies of
the late Mr. Bandaranaike who himself had in 1940, 1947
and again in 1957 supported the establishment of a
decentralised administrative structure.
Today we have the recent statement of His Excellency
the President that given the circumstances prevailing
in 1968, he himself would not have withdrawn the
District Councils Bill. We also have the declaration of
Mrs. Sirimavo Bandaranaike who is once again in the
opposition, that the Sri Lanka Freedom Party does not
wish to participate in the deliberations of the
Presidential Commission.
More than fifty years have passed since 1928 and we
have moved from Provincial Councils to Regional
Councils and from Regional Councils to District
Councils and now we appear to be moving from District
Councils to Development Councils. We have had the
"early consideration" of Mrs. Sirimavo Bandaranaike and
the "earnest consideration" of the late Mr. Dudley
Senanayake.
There has been no
shortage of Committees and Commissions, of reports and
recommendations, but what appears to have been
lacking was the political will to implement that which
nobody denies is fair and right. In a Parliamentary
Democracy where political parties vie with, one another
to bid for the support of the people at the broadest
common denominator, the highest bidder no doubt wins
but often, the long term losers are the people
themselves.
This is a process which has its own dynamics.
It is a learning process for the people of Sri Lanka
- effective management and essential fairness are not
always the by-products of a public auction.
It is for the people of Sri Lanka to recognise and
accept that the effective management of resources
requires a decentralised administration and that the
effective resolution of the ethnic question requires
devolution of power.
Decentralisation and devolution are not exercises in
mere paper work. The basic freedoms of a 'minority'
depend more on education and culture than on laws: more
on administrative action and political will than on
constitutional enactments. Laws are but frames for
action. They can educate and guide but they cannot
provide a substitute for action. The Presidential
Commission provides a forum which can be utilized to
bring our peoples together, but in the end, everything
depends on what the people of Sri Lanka themselves want
to do - and time is running out.
