Barbie dolls and Saraswathi*…
-- S. Nanthikesan
Not too long ago, my partner and I had a ‘talk’ with our then four-year daughter.
Her only mistake was to have chosen a pair of shoes that happened to have
Barbie insignia on them. This of course, was enough to send us on a five-minute
tirade on the gender issues such choices invoked. After letting us vent
out, she responded calmly. “I agree with most of what you are saying, but
what is the big deal? These are just shoes”.
When I saw the Saraswathi statue in front of the newly reconstructed Jaffna
Public library, that was almost my response….What is the big deal. It is
just a statue…In fact, in the seventies I had made daily trips to the library
without giving a second thought to the Saraswathi statue. Yet something did
not feel quite right when I saw the statue in Mr. Sansoni’s picture.
I must confess my ambivalence about choosing this topic for this editorial
when there are a plethora of pressing concerns -- from possible alternatives
to the power sharing arrangements being negotiated by the elites on both sides
(or three sides) to strengthening the civil society that is trying to rise
from its ashes or at a time when dissident public officials are taken to the
cemetery and beaten up in the North and East. I feel that it is safer to earn
the wrath of Saraswathi than that of the LTTE -- mainly because my friends
and family have convinced me that it may be beyond the capacity of the goddess
of wisdom to harm me any further!
So what is bugging me? Can we spend public money and privilege one religion?
I cannot defend a blanket opposition to public support of religion(s). For
instance, I certainly would not have any objections of corrective measures
if that religion has been historically marginalized and in need of public
support like those of the tribals for instance. The question becomes quite
reasonable when that religion is dominant and attempting to marginalize other
groups. However, it is not clear if the Hindu majority in Jaffna is actively
seeking to dominate and marginalize other religions in that region.
Or is it my usual knee jerk support for multi-culturalism/pluralism that
encourages every card-carrying Jaffna (?) Tamil to hold hands and sing kumbaya?
Sure, it certainly would be good to have one symbol up at the library for
every group. There seems to be ample space in front of the library to accommodate
as many statues as we can throw in.….but even if I figure out what the Christians
would like to have next to Ms. S. Bramha (a.k.a. Saraswathi), we may have
a tough time finding out what would be acceptable to the Muslims, let alone
symbols acceptable to born-again atheists like myself.
And certainly, I am not loosing any sleep worrying about us being submerged
in the downpour of Hindu chauvinism from BJP land anytime soon. I do take
the future possibilities of Hindu hegemony in the North and East seriously.
However, I also think that unlike in India, the current anti-muslim sentiments
among some segments of Tamil population for instance, cannot be pinned on
religious premises.
What makes me uneasy is how we naturalize privileges; Having Saraswathi
decorate a place of learning seems so natural..how could anyone object to
motherhood and apple pie.. Yet this has parallels to gender issues where marginialization
of women is naturalized- take the case of struggle to migrate out of the North
and East. Many families try to escape the insufferably harsh realities of
day-to-day life there to safer havens in the rich industrial countries. Families
sell their assets to beat the immigration and refugee laws of these rich countries
and send their children out of Sri Lanka. Most households opt to send the
male child first and the females wait until the male offspring generates enough
resources to get them out of the country. Layers of sedimented gender biases
that have become part of our daily practices that render the decision to send
the male first natural. Why can’t you see we will be asked. How can a Tamil
woman survive alone in the West and fend for herself? What will be her chances
of getting married? Etc. etc..
Based on similarly obvious reasons, we have sent Saraswathi first to the
Jaffna public library. We have to ask ourselves who were not sent there along
with Saraswathi or instead of her and why not. Any decision that fails to
ask these questions fails to contest the existing power relations among groups
in any meaningful way. What we are re-building is not just the public library.
Across the North and East, there is a pressing need to re-build socio-political
institutions and to revive a vibrant participatory political culture.
As one of the first public spaces to be reconstructed, we are curious to
know about the Jaffna Public Library: How did we choose the Saraswathi statue?
If the claim is that we just wanted to reproduce the memory of the pre-1983
library, what could that memory mean to us now? Whose memory? (see Vasuki’s
editorial) Who were consulted? Who participated? Who decided? How did they
decide?
As eloquently pointed out by Nuhman in his classic
poem Murder (attached at the end of this note), when the state orchestrated
the destruction of the library it also destroyed the very ideal it was claiming
to protect - the servants of the Sri Lankan state could act upon their orders
to destroy, only after killing what Buddha stood for- and thus, killing what
they and the State were trying to protect…The Saraswathi statue we built has
dealt a symbolic blow to our collective democratic future.
(* Saraswathi – Goddess of knowledge/learning)
Murder
--M.A. Nuhman
Last night
I dreamt
Buddha was shot dead
by the Police,
guardians of the law.
His body drenched in blood
on the steps
of the Jaffna Library
Under cover of darkness
came the ministers.
“His name is not on our list,
why did you kill him?”
they ask angrily,
“No sirs, no,
there was no mistake.
Without killing him
it was impossible
to harm a fly –
Therefore… ,” they stammered.
“Alright, then
hide the corpse.”
The ministers return.
The men in civvies
dragged the corpse
into the library.
They heaped the books
ninety thousand in all,
and lit the pyre
With the Cikalokavadda Sutta.
Thus the remains
of the Compassionate One
were burned to ashes
along with the Dhammapada.
Translated by S. Pathmanathan (from Lute Songs, edited by Chelva. S. Kanaganayakam).
The poem was written shortly after the library was burnt by the state forces.
