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By Dr.M.A.Mohamed Saleem

The recently released SLFP model for devolution has ignited varying reactions, mostly negative, from some smaller political parties. Rauf Hakeem, Leader of the Muslim Congress by a question – “can there be meaningful devolution based on this sort of proposals” (reported in The Island, 2nd May 1007) admits that he does not have a full understanding of the proposal. He claims that his “new politburo will sit down shortly to do a thorough analysis” and therefore, there is still a chance that Rauf Hakeem can change his position as he has done on many occasions in the past, and there may be many others like him.

Since independence from British rule Sri-Lanka made many changes to its constitution. Unfortunately, such changes later proved to be only self-serving measures to grab or retain power by the two major political parties, the UNP and the SLFP (often with the support of the coalition partners), which took turns to form the government. No one ever disputed that the Sinhalese are the majority in the country, and also well known to everyone was any national government that succeeded British rule will largely be constituted by the major ethnic group, the Sinhalese. Despite this the whole of Sri-Lanka were united to see the last of the British leave the country, and hoped that post-independence will usher in a period of ethnic consolidation for a common purpose of nation building where there would be equity, justice and fair play. Was it wrong for the non-Sinhalese to assume during the times of the independence struggle that the country belongs to all and trust that the majority community would take on protecting the interest of the minorities also as its primary responsibility? Couldn’t the non-Sinhalese have negotiated a better deal with the British, even a partition of the country (just as it happened in India) had they anticipated second class treatment from the majority Sinhalese?

The rural Sinhalese feel let down as they too have been discriminated by disproportionate urban concentration of development. Charges and counter charges of bad governance are peddled across all sections of the citizenry for what has happened to this country since independence. The common citizen on whom the constitution bestows inalienable sovereignty is now only a spectator of what the politicians do in their name. Even after sixty years people are nostalgic, acknowledging British administration for the road and railway networks and other infrastructures, which caste shame on the different post-independent governments for their level of contribution to develop this country. Instead of building on those economic and intellectual advantages to make this country a development model for the others. Sri-Lanka has now reached a pitiable example for “democratic” self destruction.

A country that could have taken the religious, ethnic, linguistic, territorial and natural resource diversities as strengths for development has allowed these very factors to divide its people. For many years, this country had known social divide purported to discriminations on the basis of numerical strength, language, class and religious prejudices. Increasingly, the country is now witnessing rivalries between neighbouring villages, and inter and intra-religious intolerance and violence have become very common with more damaging prospects to the existence as a sovereign nation. There is a strong belief that political affiliations and manipulations are encouraging divisions at all levels rather than working towards the unity of the country.

Recently, a number of mostly Muslim villages in the Amparai district staged a hartal, protesting against the move of a Minister to shift a government office under his Ministry from Kalmunai to his home village Akkaraipattu although Kalmunai is also in his constituency. The village Kathankudi in the Batticaloa district has become a place of revenge killings of one Muslim faction by another Muslim faction. Such incidents have also become very common across the country. Suspicion and distrust have crept in at every sphere of life, and the general mood of the people is total frustration and helplessness to effect the desired change in their lives and in their immediate environment. Suspicion also caused Karuna’s separation from the LTTE mainstream as he claimed that the Eastern Province Tamils will not receivefair treatment under the hegemony of the Northern Province Tamils. Self rule – we can no more trust others to advance and protect our interest and therefore we wish to take care of ourselves – is a cry gaining momentum among the numerically weaker groups in different parts of the country.

Many seem disappointed that the SLFP model is not sophisticated enough to attract serious discussions for power devolution. For argument sake assume that power to the north and the east is devolved on the basis of a merged province and single administration which many think will bring in peace to this country. Such a quick fix to appease terrorism is likely to cause more problems (with greater ferocity) in the future because of the varying inter / intra ethnic / territorial aspirations that are now the ground realities. What seems logical is to find a mechanism to rebuild confidence and trust among the different communities, and not dispensation of large territories, so that there can be commitment from everyone once again for a common purpose of nation building. It is from this angle that the SLFP proposal for Grama Rajaya has to be evaluated.

How Grama Rajaya is to be constituted is not specified in the proposal, although it is envisaged as the smallest unit with governing functions. As there is a general fatigue and dissatisfaction with politicians Grama Rajya offers an opportunity to depoliticize and constitute a council to serve the people on the basis of specific interests such as Heritage, Food Production, Services, Women, and Youth etc. To each of this groupings representatives can be elected, who will function on a voluntary basis. Village development plans can be made in consultation with the people, and people’s representatives can be given specific tasks and evaluated by the people at agreed intervals. Under performing representatives can be recalled by a People’s Forum and new representatives can be elected. The representatives of the different interest groups can come together and constitute the village council or the Grama Rajya.

There are aspects (for example drainage channels, secondary school) that cannot be done at each Grama Rajya level, and a Grama Rajaya will need the corporation of the adjoining Grama Rajayas (which may even be of different ethnic groups) to get the size and the strength in joint efforts for mutual benefits. This will improve consultation and consensus without political interference, and therefore, help rebuilding trust among the people.

Devolution at the Provincial Level is viewed with suspicion in many quarters; demand for it is viewed as a prelude to secession. With all good intentions and one-country guarantees from the advocates for this level of devolution the country is not in a mood to accept this at the moment given the distrust among the different communities. Also, Provincial experiment tried so far have been ineffective, and there is increasing evidence that district level devolution is more effective to reach out to people than under provincial administration. If the interest of this country is uniform development, without over concentration in one region, district as a devolution unit is more meaningful than the Province. Such level of devolution will also give confidence of inclusion in the future development of the country, particularly to the three communities in the Eastern Province. This appears to be the thinking behind the district as the unit of devolution in the SLFP proposal. For someone like Rauf Hakeem who has been advocating a non-contiguous unit for the Muslims should find District as the unit of devolution very appealing, and if he encourages an objective analysis his politburo is also likely to arrive at this conclusion.

To ensure uniform development, mandatory allocation of similar amounts of funds to each Grama Rajya is necessary, and this can be done through District Councils. It is anticipated that the overall development plan for a District will be the sum total of the Plans from the Grama Rajyas within that District. This ensures and contributes to accountability with people’s participation all the way in development.

The country is in desperate need for a constitutional paradigm that will ensure rights of all its citizens without one group claiming supremacy over others, and to prevent a repeat of the civil strife legacy this country has experienced thus far. District as the unit of devolution proposed by the SLFP seems to offer a platform for balanced development across the country but, in practice, it may not happen unless there are constitutional safeguards from the Central Authority for the Districts to effectively function as autonomous units. For this to happen, the different communities as a matter of urgency will have to come to terms that they can live together as equal shareholders in the development of this country. People at the grassroots need to be sensitized with this sprit, and this can happen only at the level of Therefore, let there be Grama Rajya.(Courtesy:island.lk)

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by SONIA GANDHI

“The India to which I belong can aptly be likened to a mosaic in which each element retains its distinct identity but as part of a unified whole. No doubt it is flawed by cracks and fissures, some old and some new. Yet, it holds together with unmatched beauty because of our people’s deeply ingrained commitment to it. Indeed, it can be difficult to comprehend the great mosaic that is India–a land which is home to no fewer than 22 major languages, more than 400 dialects and 4,635 distinct communities. It is a land that has given rise to four of the world’s major religions. It is home to the world’s second largest Muslim population. It welcomed Christianity long before Europe embraced it. It offered refuge to people fleeing from religious persecution, whether they be Jews or Zoroastrians. It is a land comprising different ecological and cultural regions, each with its own distinctive history. India is thus a multi-religious, multi-linguistic, multi-ethnic and multi-regional civilization without parallel.” stated Sonia Gandhi during the course of a lecture delivered in the Netherlands.

[Sonia Gandhi]

“There is no better way of describing this than in the words of Jawaharlal Nehru himself who described India as, and I quote: “…An ancient palimpsest on which layer upon layer of thought and reverie had been inscribed and yet no succeeding layer had completely hidden or erased what had been previously written….though outwardly there was diversity and infinite variety among our people, everywhere there was that tremendous impress of oneness, which had held all of us together for ages past, whatever political fate or misfortune had befallen us.” the Congress party President observed.

“Soon after India gained her freedom, a British Army chief had remarked: “No one can make a nation out of a continent of many nations.” Against all odds, our country has remained united and moved ahead. In a world where nations are increasingly founded on the basis of common faith and common language, as we have seen in many of the new countries in Europe, the Indian experiment is a glorious example that unity can also be based on the values of pluralism and multiculturalism. The driving spirit of our country is its liberal and inclusive ethos. India has never sought uniformity or homogeneity. It seeks to integrate, rather than assimilate.” remarked the wife and daughter in law of former Indian premier Rajiv Gandhi and ex – Prime Minister Indira Gandhi.

[Sunrise in Madurai, Tamil Nadu]

“India is a secular country. For us, the term secularism means equal respect for all religions. Our nation is founded on the conviction that all Indians must be free to practice the religion of their choice, to speak and write in their native language, to give expression to their own regional ethos and culture.” she asserted.

Ms. Sonia Gandhi made these comments as part of her Nexus lecture delivered recently at the Nexus Institute in Hague, Netherlands.The full text of the lecture titled “Living Politics:What India Has Taught Me” is reproduced below as “The Federal Idea” regards some of the salient points made are of particular relevance to people trying to achieve unity amidst diversity through democratic means.

[Golden Temple, Amristar, Punjab]

I am delighted to be here in these beautiful surroundings. I thank you for this honour. Those of you who are familiar with India will know that we are famously loquacious. Indeed as Nobel Laureate and Nexus lecturer Amartya Sen has remarked in his book The Argumentative Indian, what grieves and frustrates an Indian most about the prospect of dying is that he will no longer be able to argue back! Not surprisingly therefore, public life in India is characterized by vigorous debate and vehement contention. The cacophony of politics is the very music of our democracy. However, outside the compulsions of public life, I must confess that I am not a frequent speaker. I still have a long way to go before becoming the proverbial Argumentative Indian. But when my husband’s friend Ruud Lubbers brought up the idea of delivering the Nexus Lecture, I could not refuse.

I was also impressed by the Nexus Institute itself, which is a significant European centre for the exchange of thought and ideas. The Nexus Lecture has become a prestigious event that commands respect far beyond the borders of Europe. Since the end of the Cold War, we are still struggling to come to terms with new and rapidly changing realities. I believe that the European viewpoint, if one can call it that, must continue to be heard. A forum such as the Nexus Institute can and should be central to how the debates of the 21st century are conducted, and how the emerging new world order takes shape. Mr Riemen and Mrs Wallgreen, founders of the Nexus Institute, have much to be proud of, and it is a pleasure for me to deliver the 14th Nexus Lecture.

[Jain Temple, Ranakpur]

It is appropriate that I speak to the theme of my lecture in this fascinating country, because the story I have to tell, is a bit like the works of two of your greatest artists. Like Rembrandt’s, it is a story of light and darkness, of mystery and the hidden hand of Destiny. Like Van Gogh’s, it is also a story of inner struggle and torment, a story of how the experience of loss can impart a deeper meaning to life.

I was born in Europe, but was soon claimed by another world more diverse and more ancient. Mine was a middle-class family from a provincial town in the north of Italy. It was a close-knit family typical of its time, conservative and in essence not very different from a traditional Indian family: strong in adherence to values such as loyalty and obedience, to modesty and truthfulness, to generosity and respect for elders. Yet my father, for all his forbidding ways, was progressive enough to encourage me to learn languages and travel abroad. At school, I learnt of the Risorgimento, of Mazzini and Garibaldi and the unification of Italy. But of India, its great history and its emergence as a modern nation-state, I was taught nothing. My discovery of India happened differently, through the encounter with a remarkable human being. This discovery would take up the rest of my life! That is, in fact, my theme today. I can speak only of my experience, of what I have seen, felt and thought. And if at times, I express myself too much in the first person singular, I hope you will forgive me.

[Buddha in Gangtok, Sikkim]

I first met Rajiv Gandhi when I was enrolled in a language school in Cambridge. It was very soon evident to both of us that we would spend our lives together. Two years later, I came to India to marry him. That was almost forty years ago. Not in my wildest dreams could I have imagined then the course my destiny would take. My husband was not in politics when we began our married life.He was a pilot, absorbed and fascinated by the world of aviation; a devoted husband and loving father to our two children; a man of wide interests who pursued his passion for nature, wildlife and photography in the company of his family and a few close friends.

Though his mother Indira Gandhi headed the government, and we lived in the Prime Minister’s house, the life that we made together was essentially private. This was the life we had chosen, a life that brought us joy and deep fulfillment. Yet it was a life permeated by the turbulence of politics. Looking back, I can say that it was through the private world of family that the public world of politics came alive for me: living in intimate proximity with people for whom larger questions of ideology and belief as well as issues relating to politics and governance were vivid daily realities. There were other aspects of living in a political family that had an impact on me as a young bride. I had to accustom myself to the public gaze, which I found intrusive and hard to endure. I had to learn to curb my spontaneity and instinctive bluntness of speech. Most of all, I had to school myself not to react in the face of falsehood and slander. I had to learn to endure them as the rest of the family did.

[Kenesseth Eliyahoo Synagogue in Bombay]

My mother-in-law was regarded as a strong, rather formidable personality. Indeed, she had the calm authority of a natural leader. She had come a long way from the shy and agonized young woman she had been. But I knew her also as a sensitive, intuitive person with a love for the arts and for the conservation of nature, a sense of humour and the ability to laugh at herself. In the midst of preoccupation with affairs of state, she never failed to make time for personal concerns–a grandchild’s birthday, the illness of a friend or a relative, the problems of a staff member. Her breadth of spirit was evident: although rooted in a traditional society, she had accepted her son’s decision to marry a girl from a distant land. She opened her heart, her family, and her culture to me, treating me like the daughter she never had. Along with my husband, she guided me patiently through the confusions and hesitations of my early adjustments to India. In time I came to relish the flavours of India’s many cuisines, to feel comfortable in Indian clothes, to speak Hindi and acquaint myself with the cultural heritage of my new homeland. The glorious and multi-hued palette of India came to be as dear and precious to me as it was to them.

[St. Francis Church, Goa]

Over the years we drew closer together. She shared her experiences about her personal life, her loneliness as a child with her mother ailing and her father imprisoned, of her involvement from her childhood in the freedom movement, of the values that took shape in those formative years. I watched her deal with crises and triumphs. I saw her interact with the common man and with heads of state, with allies and with opponents. She faced adulation and acclaim as well as criticism, slander, rejection and imprisonment.

At the time I entered my new family, India was not quite 21 years independent from British colonial rule. The Congress Party, now led by my mother-in-law, was still pre-eminent, but was beginning to face a resurgent political opposition. Her father, Jawaharlal Nehru, had passed from the stage less than four years earlier, and his successor, Lal Bahadur Shastri, was Prime Minister for less than two years.

[Iranshah Fire Temple, the most sacred and major Fire Temples in India.]

Indira Gandhi, who succeeded him, was as yet untested in statecraft. She had come to power in the wake of two wars and two famines. Her first challenge was a trial by fire, as she strove to establish her authority over her party and government. In that struggle, her shield was her ability to connect directly with the people; her sword was her empathy with the poor, and the policies she initiated on their behalf.

My first political classroom thus echoed to momentous unfolding events.Two stand out in my memory. The first was the 1971 crisis which transformed Mrs Gandhi into a statesman. Following a crackdown by the Pakistan military in what was then East Pakistan, more than 10 million refugees flooded into India from across the border– that is, about two-thirds of today’s population of the Netherlands. Obviously India could not shoulder such a burden. My mother-in-law travelled to all the major world capitals, striving to convince the international community to intervene in what was a humanitarian catastrophe. She was met largely with indifference, and in some cases, opposition. When India was attacked, her response was swift and sure. She withdrew Indian forces immediately after a representative government took charge in the new-born country of Bangladesh. Evident here was the importance in politics of patience and tenacity, of daring and courage and, above all, of action at the opportune and decisive moment.

[Wazir Khan mosque, near Delhi gate]

Another memory I have of her as a political leader is of her steely determination to raise India out of the cycle of famine and dependency on imports of foodgrains. She took tough decisions which laid the foundations of the Green Revolution that transformed our economy. Her actions saw India move from being seen as indigent and helpless to becoming self-sufficient in foodgrains production. This reflected the driving force of her passion to uphold the dignity and independence of her country. That was the mainspring of her political creed.

With all the political twists and reversals that formed the background of our first thirteen years of marriage, our domestic life had remained relatively tranquil. Then suddenly our world was devastated by a succession of tragedies. In June 1980, my husband’s only brother died in an air-crash. My mother-in-law was shattered. Her younger son had been active in public life. She now turned to my husband for support. He was tormented by the choice he had to make, between protecting the life he had chosen and stepping forward to his mother’s side when she needed him most. Months elapsed before I could bring myself to accept that if he felt such a strong sense of duty to his mother, I would stand by his decision. In 1981 he was elected to Parliament.

Though I often travelled with him to his constituency and became involved in welfare work there, my main concern remained to ensure a warm and serene environment at home. Politics had now entered our lives more directly, but I resisted its further ingress.

[Chettinad Aiyanar temple, Tamil Nadu]

Four years later came the event that shook our nation and forever altered the destiny of our family. My mother-in-law, the pivot of our lives, was assassinated by her own bodyguards in our home. Within hours of her death, the Congress party asked my husband to take over the leadership of the party and government. Even as I pleaded with him not to accept, I realized that he had no option. I feared for his life. But his sense of responsibility to the country, and to the legacy of his mother and grandfather, were too deeply ingrained in him. The life we had chosen was now irrevocably over. One month later, he led the Congress Party to a landslide victory in the general elections. He was 40 years old when he became Prime Minister.

I now had official duties as the Prime Minister’s wife. But I also had to balance this with our family life, bringing up our children and ensuring they had as normal an existence as possible, given the extensive security restrictions around us all.

[Dal Lake, Kashmir]

Our world had been overturned with the death of my mother-in-law. As often happens when one loses a loved one, I sought to reach out to her through her writings. I immersed myself in editing two volumes of letters between her and her father.Through most of her youth, while her father was in British jails, their loving and close relationship found expression in a flourishing correspondence, recording a rich and vivid interplay between two lively minds. These exchanges brought alive to me the freedom struggle as it was felt and acted by two people who went on to play important roles in shaping modern India. Along with the books of Jawaharlal Nehru, which I had read earlier, they provided a philosophical and historical underpinning to my direct experience of observing my husband as he carried forward their vision for India.

I accompanied him on his travels to the remotest and poorest parts of the country. We were welcomed into people’s huts and homes. They opened their hearts to him, speaking of their sufferings, as well as their hopes and aspirations. I came to understand and share his feelings for them, to see what it was that drove him to work as he did with so much energy, enthusiasm and attention to detail. His commitment to making a real difference to their lives brought a fresh and vigorous approach to the imperatives of combining growth with social justice. He mobilized Indian scientists and technologists to tackle basic areas like tele-communications, drinking water, mass immunization and literacy. It is a matter of satisfaction to me to see so many of the seeds he sowed now yielding flourishing harvests. To name a few: India’s recognition as an IT power in the world owes much to him; space satellites and telephone networks are improving the living standards of large segments of our population, especially the rural and urban poor; India’s entrepreneurial talents, which began to be unshackled in the early 1980s, are now spearheading our country’s impressive rate of economic growth; the revival of local self-government institutions is strengthening the foundations of our democracy. These were all cherished endeavours of his. But the time given to him by Fate was all too short.

[Camel fair, Pushkar, Rajasthan]

My husband remained Prime Minister for five years. Soon after came the moment I had been dreading since the trauma of my mother-in-law’s death. On May 21, 1991, while campaigning in the national elections, he was assassinated by terrorists. The Congress Party asked me to become its leader in his place; I declined, instinctively recoiling from a political milieu that had so devastated my life and that of my children.

For the next several years I withdrew into myself. I drew comfort and strength from the thousands of people who shared our grief, cherished my husband’s memory, and offered my children and me their love and their support. We set up a foundation to take forward some of the initiatives closest to his heart.

The years that followed saw change and turbulence in India. Economic growth was accelerating. New groups and communities, long deprived, were seeking their legitimate share. Democracy was making India much more egalitarian, but it was also giving new power to some old forces — forces that sought to polarize and mobilize communities along religious lines. They threatened the very essence of India, the diversity of faiths and cultures, languages and ways of life that have sprung from its soil and taken root in it.

The Congress Party was being buffeted by these currents. This was the party that had fought for India’s independence and nurtured its infant democracy till it became a robust institution. It now found itself in the midst of uncertainty and turmoil. In 1996 it lost the national elections.Pressure began to build up from a large number of Congress workers across the country urging me to emerge from my seclusion and enter public life.

Could I stand aside and watch as the forces of bigotry continued in their campaigns to spread division and discord? Could I ignore my own commitment to the values and principles of the family I had married into, values and principles for which they lived and died? Could I betray that legacy and turn away from it? I knew my own limitations, but I could no longer stand aside. Such were the circumstances under which the life of politics chose me.

I was elected President of the Congress Party in 1998 when it was in Opposition. This gave me an opportunity to travel to alll corners of the country. I found the people at large responded to me spontaneously. Intuitively, they seemed to understand that, like them, I too valued their traditions, their philosophy and their way of life. This seemed to build a bond between us, especially with the poor who welcomed me and opened their hearts without hesitation. Again and again, I have been moved and humbled by the gaze of trust and hope in people’s eyes.

This link between successive generations of Indians and my family is no abstract one. I had witnessed it in the case of both my mother-in-law and my husband: the almost electric charge that sparked between them and the people: a meeting of eyes, sometimes hands, a communication that surged across all barriers. The attachment accorded so generously to this family is to some extent in recognition of their sacrifices, achievements and selfless devotion to the country. But perhaps their appeal also lay in their transcending the four basic markers of the Indian identity — religion, caste, language and region. They came to embody the all-inclusive ethos of our country, its essential oneness.

[Tribal community in Orissa]

At times people refer to the Nehru-Gandhi ‘dynasty’. What this word fails to signify is two crucial elements: one is the sovereignty of the people. Through the democratic process, they have repeatedly vested their expectations in one or another member, and equally on other occasions, they have chosen to withdraw their support. The other essential factor, one that lies at the heart of this relationship, is not the exercise of power but the affirmation of a sacred trust. It is this love and faith that imposes its own responsibility and obligations, that has inspired even a reluctant politician such as myself to enter the public domain.

Success in the 2004 national elections came after six years of political work. I was unanimously elected as my party’s leader in Parliament. The next step was to form the government. But I always knew in my heart that if I ever found myself in that position, I would decline the post of Prime Minister of India. I have often been asked why I turned it down. In trying to explain that choice to my colleagues in the party, I described it as dictated by my “inner voice.” Indeed, that voice has been my wisest guide in political life. The plain fact is that power for itself has never held any attraction for me. My aim in politics has always been to do whatever I can in my own way to defend the secular, democratic foundations of our country, and to address the concerns and aspirations of the many whose voice often remains unheard.

Too often, we think of politics as a public arena, quite apart from our private world — let alone the inner life. But experience has taught me that such separations are illusory: to pretend a distinction between the values we bring to our personal lives and to our public dealings inevitably deprive both of meaning.Practical considerations aside, I have tried to see that, as far as possible, the significant political decisions of my life flow out of the inner experience of emotion and belief, and of the need to be true to myself.

The India to which I belong can aptly be likened to a mosaic in which each element retains its distinct identity but as part of a unified whole. No doubt it is flawed by cracks and fissures, some old and some new. Yet, it holds together with unmatched beauty because of our people’s deeply ingrained commitment to it. Indeed, it can be difficult to comprehend the great mosaic that is India–a land which is home to no fewer than 22 major languages, more than 400 dialects and 4,635 distinct communities. It is a land that has given rise to four of the world’s major religions. It is home to the world’s second largest Muslim population. It welcomed Christianity long before Europe embraced it. It offered refuge to people fleeing from religious persecution, whether they be Jews or Zoroastrians. It is a land comprising different ecological and cultural regions, each with its own distinctive history. India is thus a multi-religious, multi-linguistic, multi-ethnic and multi-regional civilization without parallel.

[Parsi rangoli]

There is no better way of describing this than in the words of Jawaharlal Nehru himself who described India as, and I quote: “An ancient palimpsest on which layer upon layer of thought and reverie had been inscribed and yet no succeeding layer had completely hidden or erased what had been previously written… though outwardly there was diversity and infinite variety among our people, everywhere there was that tremendous impress of oneness, which had held all of us together for ages past, whatever political fate or misfortune had befallen us.” (Unquote)

Soon after India gained her freedom, a British Army chief had remarked: “No one can make a nation out of a continent of many nations.” Against all odds, our country has remained united and moved ahead. In a world where nations are increasingly founded on the basis of common faith and common language, as we have seen in many of the new countries in Europe, the Indian experiment is a glorious example that unity can also be based on the values of pluralism and multiculturalism. The driving spirit of our country is its liberal and inclusive ethos. India has never sought uniformity or homogeneity. It seeks to integrate, rather than assimilate.

India is a secular country. For us, the term secularism means equal respect for all religions. Our nation is founded on the conviction that all Indians must be free to practice the religion of their choice, to speak and write in their native language, to give expression to their own regional ethos and culture.

Indira Gandhi had once memorably remarked that everything said of India, and its opposite, are equally true. This is a land of both magnificent diversities and painful contrasts, a land where poverty and prosperity co-exist, where perpetual struggles co-habit with burgeoning opportunities. This is a land where tradition and modernity go together, where science and spirituality intermingle. What appear as contradictions to the external world, are seen by us as two sides of the same coin. We recognize that these polarities are held in a certain balance by opposing tensions. The tendency to establish separateness is countered by the need to assert unity. These are the sources of our resilience.

There is, indeed, huge social ferment under way in India as age-old and stratified social and economic structures are being eroded, as political power flows to deprived people and communities and as aspirations rise. It might appear to some that contentions between different interest groups are hampering stability and progress.But I submit that this ferment is a natural process, it is a corollary to rapid social and economic change. In some cases, my own party’s interests have received an electoral setback from the rise of newly emergent groups or interests. I do see even this as a movement towards social emancipation.

My life in India has been one of continuous learning. But being a direct participant in the rough and tumble of politics has been a whole new process of discovery. I am convinced that India can flourish only as a centrist democracy. Over half a century of elections and democratic governance have clearly demonstrated that no government can last if it is seen to pursue narrow interests and is insensitive to the concerns of all sections of our society. India’s many identities, languages, faiths and customs cannot coexist peacefully if any one assumes dominance, or if the collective will of the majority denies rights and space to any of the minorities. The defining principle of our nation has been ‘Unity in Diversity’; in practice, we celebrate these diversities in a manner that gives expression to the voices of all our people and by giving shape and flow to their aspirations.

There can be no doubt that India’s tradition of tolerance, synthesis and the ability to live with seeming contradictions has provided fertile soil for democracy to take firm root. Our Independence movement, unique in many respects in world history, firmly embedded democratic values in our consciousness. A generation of outstanding men and women created the foundations of the Indian nation-state with a magnificent Constitution as its bedrock. Affirmative action, anchored in law, has given the poor and the disadvantaged the largest stake in our democratic enterprise. Democracy is the most visible engine of social mobility and it is this that has ensured its flowering.

Challenges there are, some arising from the process of economic growth itself. Rapid development, ostentatious consumerism and social insensitivity can sharpen disparities and raise tensions. Unfulfilled expectations can lead to upheavals. Others arise from the forces of fanaticism and terrorism, those who seek to unleash violence and destruction on the innocent in the name of religion or region, thus attempting to polarize our society. Even so, I am confident that the centre of gravity is holding and will continue to hold — because the spirit of our people wills it so.

I believe that while remaining representative of all interests, politics has a particular duty to those in need. As a politician in a country where many still live in poverty, it is my obligation and my responsibility to strive to empower the poor and the vulnerable. At times, this means being willing to fight entrenched social injustice. Indeed, the Indian, so long disempowered by poverty, has a greater claim on the fruits of our growing prosperity. To eradicate poverty, inequality and injustice from our society is an enormous task and it does remain our motivating goal.

[A child with Jawaharlal nehru, this photo has displyed at Anand Bhawan Allahabad]

There are some who argue that faster growth will in the long run solve problems of social inequality and poverty and narrow the gap between rich and the poor. This argument has been made in the context of other economies as well, including European ones where migrant communities are yet to be integrated fully. This is an old debate–the relative importance of growth and equity. To my mind, it is not a matter of choosing one over the other. Growth without equity tends to destabilize societies, while equity without growth simply cannot be sustained. Yes, if we had an infinite time at our disposal, economic growth alone would result in a transformation of our economies and societies.This was true of Europe two hundred years ago. This cannot be true of India or indeed of any developing society now.

As many of you know, in recent years India has achieved a greater integration with the global economy, it has reformed economic regulations that were not in keeping with the times, and has as a result achieved consistently high levels of economic growth. Our entrepreneurs and professionals are playing a critical role in generating and sustaining this momentum, and we are proud of them. Yet, as I travel across the length and breadth of our country, the limitations of growth alone stare me in the face. People constantly demand that the government respond to their basic needs. I am aware that the market in many quarters is seen as the new ruling deity, but our experience shows that there is still a critical role for the state and its institutions. Market-led growth is necessary, but it is not sufficient. That is why it is important to sustain programmes of poverty-alleviation, even though these need constant vigilance to ensure that the budgeted allocations reach the people they are meant for.

[Statue of Mahathma Gandhi, in Pondichery]

Politics may be the art of the possible, but it must be anchored in truth. In India, we are fortunate to have the example of Mahatma Gandhi so clearly before us: a visionary who shunned expedient strategies, who frequently chose the most difficult way because it was the right way. For him, the means had to be worthy of the ends. His transparent commitment to truth was such that it inspired millions of Indians from all walks of life to participate in the freedom struggle and to face untold hardships, including long years of imprisonment. This created a new model for mass movements in the world: one based on an unflinching moral core, on personal sacrifice and a dedication to absolute non-violence.

Mindful of this history, I believe that politics must have at its heart one guiding principle — to achieve its goals through just and ethical means. It is my conviction that coercion, expediency and the cynical manipulation of popular sentiment and public opinion to attain one’s ends, no matter how worthy they are, can never be justified. But I do recognize that this is easier said than done. Very often, practice and precept diverge, sometimes consciously and sometimes unconsciously. When we compromise, we must have the courage and candour to admit to it and not abandon our commitment to basic principles.

[Sunset at Nagarhole National Park]

It is not easy, in the space of a single lecture, to distill all that India has taught me. It has taught me above all else that politics is not just the art of the possible; it can also be the art of the impossible. To have won freedom and forged nationhood through a unique non-violent movement and to have launched universal adult suffrage more than half a century ago, in a society that was then 85% illiterate and desperately poor, was a daring act of faith. To have helped democracy take root, and to have nurtured it through sixty years amidst continuous challenges, has been a stupendous achievement. Politics everywhere is an exacting mistress, nowhere more so than in India, with its multiplicity of political parties and ideologies pulling in different directions. Its sheer size, diversity and variety, the huge development tasks it is undertaking in a framework of open democracy, the growing aspirations of over a billion people, all make it a formidable mission. The exuberance and vitality of our people, especially our youth, gives me the confidence that India will continue to push the boundaries of the possible, for its own well-being and for that of the world.

My journey from the placid backwaters of a contented domestic life to the maelstrom of public life has not been an easy one.Yet, despite its sorrows and difficulties, I have found in my new existence both fulfillment and a larger sense of purpose. The family to which I first pledged my fidelity was in the confines of a home. Today my loyalty embraces a wider family – India, my country, whose people have so generously welcomed me to become one of them.

Editor’s Note:The full text of the Nexus Lecture, Living Politics: What India Has Taught Me, delivered by Sonia Gandhi the Congress President and UPA Chairperson at the Nexus Institute, the Hague.The Federal Idea is of the opinion that India provides much inspiration to people striving to achieve unity amidst diversity through democratic means. Ms. Sonia Gandhi’s lecture is of particular relevance to Sri Lanka.

Feedback: djeyaraj@federalidea.com

by Dominick Chilcott

These are excerpts from the Keynote address delivered by British High Commissioner Dominick Chilcott at the recent BCIS Panel Discussion: The UK’s peace-building efforts in Sri Lanka Given the hostility in some circles to what is described as “bullying” the High Commissioer’s address sets the record straight on what role Britain hopes to play in Sri Lanka. The address is remarkable for its clarity in articulating what future is envisaged for Sri Lanka and also for pinpointing possible lessons to be learnt from the Northern Ireland peace process.

[Mr Dominick Chilcott CMG]

“Rome was built on seven hills. My presentation is in seven parts. It is going to cover the following ground.

(i) Why should the UK want to be engaged in peace-building in Sri Lanka at all? What’s our rationale?

(ii) What sort of SL do we want to see after peace is achieved?

(iii) Description of the British Government’s Peace Building Strategy

(iv) Northern Ireland – the UK’s unique added value

(v) Human rights and its relevance to peace building

(vi) How do I answer the traditional accusations against the UK’s efforts of our being hypocritical or illegally interfering in SL’s internal affairs and such like?

(vii) Conclusions

Firstly, what is the UK’s motivation for our efforts in Sri Lanka? It’s a fair question because some of the time the government, with whom we have friendly relations, and its supporters do not appreciate what we do. The Defence Secretary’s interview to Reuters and the BBC earlier this week in which he accused Britain, amongst others, of trying to bully Sri Lanka illustrates the point. If the Defence Secretary’s views reflect the government’s more widely, why don’t we just pack up, go home and save ourselves all that money and effort.

Part of the answer is the number of general, global reasons that would be sufficient to explain why the UK should support peace building in Sri Lanka. These derive from an appreciation of our enlightened self-interest. We want to raise respect for human rights and standards of good governance around the world because that makes the world a safer place. Democratic standards are badly eroded in countries in conflict and Sri Lanka is no exception. There is our commitment to advance the Millennium Development Goals, which is partly altruistic but also means that we have the prospect of more prosperous trading partners for Britain’s goods and services. Sri Lanka’s economic and social development is significantly held back by its civil war.

But as well as the general arguments, there is a more direct connection between the conflict in Sri Lanka and the interests of the UK.

There are perhaps some 4 million British people of South Asian origin living in the UK. And, as you would expect, that translates into a rapidly rising number of MPs and local councillors of South Asian origin playing an active role in British politics. This large number of political representatives and the much larger number of constituents from this region means that British politics is bound to take a close interest in developments in South Asia.

I don’t know a reliable figure for the number of people of Sri Lankan origin resident in the UK. It could be anything from 200,000 to over half a million. What you can be sure of is that the Sri Lankan diaspora community follows very closely what happens here. The conflict stirs up the diaspora who make representations to the British government to do something about it. The LTTE illegally raises money within the diaspora, using extortion and threats. The phenomenon of Tamil criminal gangs may be, directly or indirectly, linked to the LTTE’s activities.

The internal conflict also increases the number of Sri Lankans, of all communities, who wish to emigrate. That in turn feeds the demand for the services of criminals engaged in smuggling people illegally into the UK. And it raises the number of political asylum seekers from Sri Lanka who land in the UK. Immigration is a very sensitive political subject for the British government. So the conflict here creates law and order problems for the UK and makes managing immigration more difficult.

The conflict also directly affects British interests by complicating the patterns of trade and investment between our two countries and by the threat it poses to British travellers and residents in Sri Lanka. Some 150 British passport holders, for example, were stranded in Jaffna for weeks when the A9 road was closed last August. Two weeks ago, a British couple, ethnically Tamil, were arrested and later released in one of the regular security sweeps in Colombo.

So it’s not difficult to establish that Sri Lanka’s internal conflict has a direct impact on the interests of my country and its people. In the modern, globalised age, no country is an island in political terms, not even when it is one geographically.

This brings me to the second point. In the happy event that the civil war can be brought to an end, what sort of Sri Lanka does Britain want to see emerging in the peace?

Firstly, whatever peace is achieved needs to be lasting and fair to all communities, commanding their support. We want the unity and sovereignty of Sri Lanka to emerge intact and whole. We support a single state solution, not a two state one.

In countries with internal conflicts, the traditional way of reconciling people with distinct identities within a single nation state is through some form of power sharing and devolution. A new constitutional dispensation, that removes discrimination, upholds human rights for all and removes the causes of alienation from the state, is a necessary and central component of achieving lasting and fair peace.

There are plenty of examples of successful power sharing arrangements and devolution in other countries. I don’t want to use the words unitary or federal because they come with too much political baggage and people can stop thinking when you use these labels.

In the UK, we have developed our own unique power-sharing arrangements in order to keep Britain united. The Scots, Welsh and Northern Irish each have their own parliaments or assemblies, each with different powers, set up on a different basis. The English do not have their own parliament or assembly. Our devolution is therefore sometimes called asymmetric. But that reflects the different political aspirations and needs of different communities with the country. We don’t all want the same things. So we would expect that whatever arrangements for power-sharing and devolution are designed for Sri Lanka are modelled on the needs of this country and its different communities.

It goes without saying, I hope, that a newly united Sri Lanka, at peace, would be one where democratic standards and respect for human rights would be strengthened and apply throughout the country. We would not support a despotic regime continuing in the north and east, because we do not believe that would contribute to a lasting peace.

Such a newly united Sri Lanka, at peace, could expect to benefit from a massive economic boom. This country is waiting to take off economically when the conditions are ripe. The most effective way to afford the huge costs of putting in the infrastructure to connect the rural areas to the main cities and to the outside world, which is the key to the economic and social development of country people, is to achieve a lasting peace. That way, money spent today on bombs and bullets and MiG29s can instead be invested in the country’s development.

Against that background, what is Britain’s policy towards Sri Lanka? Well it’s all about trying to end the conflict and bring about the state of affairs in Sri Lanka I have described.

We recognise that outsiders cannot make peace in Sri Lanka. Peace has to come primarily from Sri Lankans themselves. But outsiders can help shape the political and security environment in which efforts to make peace or war are attempted.

Needed: new peace…

The aim of our peace building strategy is to contribute to the creation of the conditions in which peace can be achieved. It’s a relatively modest and realistic aim. Britain is not trying to impose a peace arrangement on Sri Lanka. Nor are we contemplating putting lots of troops on the ground. We are not trying to copy what the Indians did in 1987.

We think Britain’s added value in peace building derives partly from our experience of peace processes, especially from Northern Ireland; from our specialist expertise in key sectors, such as security sector transformation; and from our knowledge of and cultural links with Sri Lanka.

In accordance with the strategy, the British government is focusing its peace building activities on four objectives.

The first objective is to generate in the country a greater commitment to a negotiated peace.

We believe in the simple proposition that a necessary condition for a lasting peace is that all parties involved in the dispute should commit themselves sincerely to achieve a negotiated settlement to the conflict, rather than to pursue their objectives by military means. We do not believe that a political process will succeed against a background of violence and hostilities.

This requires us to sustain political and diplomatic engagement with the government and others here, keeping broadly in line with the wider international community.

We support, for example, the efforts of the Norwegians, who remain the officially invited facilitators to the existing peace process. We are not trying to take the place of the Norwegians. We use the broad range of UK contacts to encourage the government of Sri Lanka and the LTTE to end violence and commit themselves to dialogue. In this context, our experience of conflict resolution and peace building in Northern Ireland means we have something important and relevant to bring to the table. More on this later.

More generally, we aim to share our experience of conflict resolution by encouraging key opinion formers, including those Sri Lankans living in the UK, to pursue every avenue for peacefully resolving the conflict.

The second objective is to improve the safety and security of communities in Sri Lanka and improve overall adherence to human rights.

We believe that violence and human rights violations are not only a symptom of the conflict, but also a major reason why the conflict continues. Hostilities and human rights abuses corrode trust between the communities. Sri Lankans need to have a greater sense of confidence and control over the security and management of their lives, if peace is to be sustainable.

Under this objective, the UK funds a number of projects, which are implemented by NGOs such as the Foundation for Co-existence and the Asia Foundation. These projects have a number of aims. For example, we aim to strengthen local capacity for managing conflicts within communities. We want to increase the opportunities for people to seek redress for grievances and human rights violations, through improved access to justice.

We wish to enhance the conduct and human rights record of the security forces and are funding training for them on human rights and International Humanitarian Law.

We are working with local stakeholders, the UN and other agencies to attempt to improve the human rights situation in Sri Lanka. And we support processes that reduce the availability of small arms, taking action at community, national and regional level.

Our third objective under the strategy focuses on reforming governance in certain key institutions, particularly the armed forces and security services.

British security forces have acquired expertise (principally in Northern Ireland and by taking part in UN peacekeeping operations) in policing conflict zones in a way that reduces tensions and violence. We want to transfer that know-how to Sri Lanka’s armed forces. To that end, we are helping the Sri Lankan Ministry of Defence with the development of policy and training in peacekeeping operations, civil military relations, international humanitarian law, and the law of armed conflict. We are also working with the Sri Lankan Police to support their development of a community based policing programme.

The UK is additionally supporting the work undertaken by the Sri Lankan government and security forces to develop civil oversight of defence policy and military activity in order to promote transparency and accountability. We are also funding language training to improve the English and Tamil language skills of the police, military and judiciary.

Our fourth and last objective under the strategy is to strengthen civil society so that is becomes more effective in peace building. Our activity here aims to encourage the engagement of a wider range of organisations (including the business sector, religious organisations, the media, regional universities, political groups and other key opinion formers) to come forward and take initiatives in peace building;

So that then is our peace building strategy, a mixture of diplomatic and political work and project work.

I have mentioned Northern Ireland a few times. I think I should expand on that theme.

Northern Ireland is a successful example of how a very longstanding conflict, rooted in grievances that go back hundreds of years, proved eventually to be solvable. Previously mortal enemies are now sitting down in government together as partners in Northern Ireland’s future. It is an extraordinary turn around.

My Prime Minister and quite a few British ministers who have experience of the Northern Ireland story believe that there are lessons from Northern Ireland that would apply to other countries suffering from internal conflict. It was with that in mind that Mr Blair asked Paul Murphy, a former Minister in Northern Ireland, intimately involved in the negotiations that led up to the Good Friday Agreement, to visit Sri Lanka last November.

Mr Murphy returned convinced there were many parallels between Northern Ireland and Sri Lanka. He is, of course, not the only one. Martin McGuinness, of the IRA and Sein Fein, came here last year. Who better to try to persuade the LTTE that they should abandon the armed struggle and pursue peace through the democratic process than someone who has trod that path himself?

I would like to set out a few of those lessons now so that you can see what I mean. This will not be an exhaustive presentation. The lessons of Northern Ireland for Sri Lanka constitute a subject worthy of PhD thesis. So this account is necessarily over-simplified. After Mr Murphy’s visit I jotted down 15 lessons from Northern Ireland. I won’t go through them all now. But here are the first seven, almost half of them.

To begin with, a word of caution. We don’t think you can translate the process in one country lock, stock and barrel to another country and expect it to work in the same way. Each country has its own characteristics. So the lessons from Northern Ireland do need to be adapted to Sri Lanka’s situation.

The first lesson: all sides to the conflict have to acknowledge that no-one can win through violence or a military solution. In Northern Ireland, even the immense apparatus of the British state, including tens of thousands of highly trained troops with state of the art equipment, could not eliminate a few hundred terrorists. For their part, the IRA realised that better government intelligence was frustrating the effectiveness of its armed struggle. If you want peace, you must want to stop fighting.

Second lesson: even in the darkest days, there needs to be communications between the government and the terrorists. The modalities can alter according to circumstances. Often the communications will be conducted through a secret back-channel. But the communication should never be entirely shut off. It’s important that the parties talk to each other as that enables a degree of trust and confidence to be built up, which is a necessary foundation for when the parties are ready to move to talks.

Third lesson: there must be a cease-fire in order for formal talks to be possible. Politicians can’t make the compromises necessary for peace against a backdrop of violence and public revulsion at violence. But one must be realistic; violations of the cease-fire are likely to continue and shouldn’t be allowed to derail the process.

Fourth lesson: the process for talks is more important at the outset than the substance of the talks. Let me list some of the features of the process in Northern Ireland that led up to the Good Friday Agreement.

(a) Inclusivity. In Northern Ireland’s case, all political parties and many civil society organisations were present at the talks. So it was as inclusive as possible.

(b) Intensity. Representatives were elected to the talks and paid to attend them. They were full-time, dedicated negotiators to the peace process. The worked every week from Monday to Friday for about two years.

(c) Facilities. A special purpose-built building was used for the talks, with each party having its own offices and secretariat, provided free of charge.

(d) Parity of esteem. Each party had the same number of places at the table and had the same rights to speak. Every party was treated with the same respect, despite the terrible things some had done.

(e) Complexity. The talks were continuous and involved a complex structure of plenary sessions and working groups. The scope of the talks was very comprehensive, covering anything any party wanted to put on the table – prisoners, education, constitutional change, transport, justice, discrimination, human rights, the economy etc.

Fifth lesson: international mediation by a person of stature to chair the talks was crucial. Senator Mitchell, a very accomplished American politician and a Catholic, was critical to the talks’ success. He was supported by a Canadian general (who enjoyed the Protestants’ confidence) and an ex-PM of Finland (for Nordic balance). Senator Mitchell’s role was hands-on throughout.

Sixth lesson: the people themselves have to feel they own the talks. The solution must be generated by them, not produced by outsiders. The British Government and most outsiders knew what the solution would almost certainly have to look like. They could have drafted it in two weeks. Had they done so, it would have failed. The parties may have taken two years to reach the same destination but it was vital that they should feel ownership of the outcome.

Seventh lesson: organisations can change their fundamental positions during the talks process. The IRA moved away from insisting on integration with Ireland to accepting devolution. The Protestants moved from a centralised, unitary system of rule from London to devolution.

And the list of lessons goes on and on. It is not too difficult, even with a quick run through like the one I have just given, to spot similarities and, perhaps more importantly, differences between the state of affairs here and what worked in Northern Ireland.

I want now to say something about the critical importance of human rights, which has come up once or twice already. Of course, human rights are not just a British or Western concern. There are a number of Asian countries represented on the International Independent Group of Eminent Persons, chaired by Justice Bagwati, a former Chief Justice of India, whose recent statements, agreed unanimously, show a rigorous and proper concern about human rights.

I shall put my remarks about human rights in the context of Britain’s experience in Northern Ireland.

There is a simple, if not always universally accepted, connection between human rights and the conflict. The fundamental cause of the internal conflict is the alienation of numbers of Tamils from the modern Sri Lankan state, for whatever reasons, and their consequent aspiration to run their own affairs in their own homeland. The more that sense of alienation is fuelled, the more difficult it will be to bring the conflict to an end and for all Sri Lankans to reach a new political accommodation with which all are satisfied. Human rights violations are a major part of what sustains the sense of alienation amongst the Tamils today and therefore continues to drive the conflict.

We in Britain know what we are speaking about because we made some very crass mistakes in Northern Ireland, ignoring the legitimate grievances of the Catholic minority community in order to pursue immediate and urgent security concerns.

Peter Hain, the present minister for Northern Ireland and Wales, has described the decision in 1971 in Northern Ireland to introduce internment without trial as a disaster. He believes it is questionable whether internment could, in principle, have worked in preventing the IRA from developing into a sophisticated urban guerrilla army. But the determinedly one-sided application, based on flawed intelligence, ensured that it back-fired catastrophically.

Serious errors in handling public disorder -the curfew and search operations in the Falls Road area in 1971 which was, in effect, a sort of martial law and, most dramatically, the events of Bloody Sunday in 1972 (where 13 people were killed in shootings by British Forces) – contributed to a comprehensive reversal of early hopes that the ‘hearts and minds’ of the Catholics could be won over.

That is not to say that the Catholics embraced violent alternatives – the vast majority never did – but it helped to create a further alienation from the institutions of the state which meant the IRA invariably had sufficient community support for its violent campaign.

Happily, after some time the penny dropped and the British government understood the critical importance to our peace efforts of raising and protecting human rights standards. In the end, the Good Friday agreement of 1998 was applauded by local, national and international human rights organisations. The United Nations High Commissioner for Human Rights at the time, Mary Robinson, said the agreement was conspicuous “by the centrality it gave to equality and human rights concerns”.

Without that approach, putting human rights at the centre of our efforts, we would not have persuaded the IRA to put down their weapons and take part in the peace talks leading to the Good Friday agreement.

Ladies and Gentlemen,

Before I conclude, I would like to address the concerns of some people that Britain’s peace-building activities are bullying or that our concern about human rights is helping the LTTE or that we are guilty of double standards or of acting contrary to international law.

I hope this presentation has made it clear that our key instruments for delivering our peace building strategy are advocacy and some small projects. We are not trying to impose anything on Sri Lanka, not least because we believe for a peaceful settlement to work it has to be home-grown and owned by all Sri Lankans.

But as I said at the beginning, no country these days is a political island. What happens here in Sri Lanka resonates on the streets of London. We do not have the luxury of being indifferent to developments in Sri Lanka. So when things happen here that we think are unwise or contrary to international standards, we tend to say so privately and sometimes publicly. Sometimes, when we have major concerns about developments, there are consequences for our policies towards Sri Lanka. As you will know, we have temporarily suspended our debt relief programme here, worth over £40m over ten years, as we were worried that the money might be used to support the prosecution of the civil war, a war that is giving rise to serious human rights concerns.

Does raising human rights concerns help the LTTE? If the internal conflict is a zero-sum game, then I suppose that anything that embarrasses one side will be seen as victory of sorts for the other. So there is an element of substance in the accusation to which one should be sensitive.

But for the reasons I have mentioned, we think that such short term analysis misses the main point. Human rights violations in themselves alienate the victims’ communities and help to prolong the conflict.

But there is also something about this accusation that does not add up. The LTTE are an anti-democratic regime, with a record of appalling human rights violations. They have no concept or respect for free speech. They eliminate dissent. They do not live by, nor represent democratic values in any sense.

So it is surely a false position to argue that defending fundamental rights and freedoms, which the government of Sri Lanka believes in but which the LTTE does not, should be seen as being pro-LTTE.

What about double standards? What about Iraq? The decision to invade Iraq and remove Saddam Hussein’s regime was undoubtedly controversial. But whatever the rights and wrongs of that, the policy of the coalition now is to provide, with the help of the Iraqi forces, the minimum level of security necessary to enable the political system in Iraq to take root. That system aims to give all communities a fair say in the running of the country. The future of Iraq is almost certainly federal.

When violations of human rights by British and other Coalition forces occur, as they do in Iraq since no armed forces are perfect, there is a law enforcement system of military justice that deals with perpetrators. There are strict rules of engagement for our troops. When these are violated, the soldiers concerned can expect to find themselves, when the evidence is collected, in serious trouble before a tribunal. We do not operate a policy of abductions and extra-judicial killings in Iraq.

Lastly, is it contrary to the Vienna Convention, which sets out the functions of diplomatic missions, to raise human rights concerns. The answer is no, it isn’t.

One of the functions of a diplomatic mission, according to the Vienna Convention, is to protect in the receiving State, in this case Sri Lanka, the interests of the sending State, in my case Britain, within the limits prescribed by international law.

Treaties are agreements made between States and human rights treaties are like any others in this respect. A State’s obligations under human rights treaties are owed not only to the individuals present in the State’s territory but to all other States Parties to those treaties. As both the UK and Sri Lanka are party to all six of the core UN human rights treaties, in the hypothetical case that Sri Lanka failed to comply with any of the provisions of those treaties, it would be in breach of obligations owed to the UK (and to the other States Parties to the treaties concerned). The UK would then be well within its rights, according to the Vienna Convention, to take action to defend its interests in seeing those human rights standards upheld in Sri Lanka.

And the same would be true in reverse, of course. Should the UK fail to live up to any of the provisions in these human rights treaties, for example in Iraq or Afghanistan or at home with our own struggle against Al-Qaeda terrorism, we would be failing in an obligation to Sri Lanka as well as to our own people. And the Sri Lankan government would then be acting quite properly in drawing attention to our failings and expecting us to take remedial action.

So from the perspective of international law, it is a mistake to see human rights as purely internal matters. Human rights, ever since they have been governed by international treaties, are properly the subject of concern of the international community.

Ladies and Gentlemen, I am coming to the end. I have tried to set out, pretty comprehensively, the motivation behind our peace building activities and describe those activities themselves. I have dwelt on our experience of Northern Ireland, which explains why we approach the conflict here in the way we do. I have elaborated on the importance of putting human rights at the centre of peace building policies and tried to deal briefly with some of the commonest objections to our engagement.

Britain has no magic bullet to solve Sri Lanka’s civil war. Only Sri Lankans themselves can do that. But we cannot be indifferent to the conflict. It touches us and we are bound to respond. We are not trying to become the official facilitator; that remains Norway’s role. We want to work in partnership with the Sri Lankan government. What we are trying to do is to help create the conditions in which the parties may, one day (and we hope it will be sooner than later) be ready and able to come together to forge a lasting and fair peace and give the people of this lovely island the chance to live to their potential.”

Mr. Pierre Poilievre, Conservative MP for Nepean- Carleton, and the Parliamentary Secretary to the President of the Treasury Board, in a report released on Sunday June 10th, requested the Government of Canada to assist Sri Lanka to move into a decentralized Federal model similar to Canada with autonomy and rights to minorities.

The report called for action from the Government of Canada to use its influence to put an end to the tragic fighting, rampant human rights abuses and discrimination in aid distribution throughout Sri Lanka.

Links:

- Full Report

- Mr. Pierre Poilievre MP ~ Nepean – Carleton

Power-sharing options for Sri Lanka: Some perspectives from India, South Africa and Australia

By Ayesha Zuhair

Federalism: it is a term that tends to arouse strong prejudices. A term that is loved by some, hated by many and feared by most. And the opinions expressed on the subject are as varied as federal systems themselves. Some view it as a framework that achieves unity in diversity; yet others have gone on to describe it as a “beguiling serpent”.

Among those who tend to take up a pro-federal stance, there are some who have genuine concerns about its applicability to contexts such as the Sri Lankan one – whether a country as geographically diminutive as ours can afford a system as costly as a federal one and more pointedly, whether such a mechanism would lead to the exacerbation of ethnic tensions and ultimately result in secession.

That fear was felt even in India as Prof. Akhtar Majeed, Director of the Centre for Federal Studies at Hamdard Univerity in India pointed out. In fact, for nearly twenty-five years after independence, the word federal was not used at all; India was simply called a union of states, unity being uppermost in the minds of constitution makers. This was largely due to historical reasons such as the violent manner in which the partition took place.

Despite all the pessimistic predictions that the country would disintegrate, that there would be a process of Balkanisation, India is a nation state that is united today. “Due to the foresight of the constitution-makers and system of governance that evolved, no one feels discriminated against. There may be dissention against the government of India and the state leaders, but no one feels discriminated by the federal system that was adopted, the Indian professor underscored.

Prof. Majeed holds the view that there is no society that is not diverse today. All societies have a smaller or greater degree of diversity and diversity is not something to be ashamed of. The question of whether a society that is diverse can be united as a nation may seem contradictory. But diversity only becomes a problem when it leads to divisiveness.

A mechanism which brings together different identities in way which preserves their distinctiveness is federalism. Different identities come together to form a nation through a system of shared rule and self-rule. Some concerns are of national interest and some are of regional interest. What is of common interest is shared while what is of local interest is handled at the local level.

It is a system that has worked for India, one of the most diverse countries in the world, Prof. Majeed firmly asserted, drawing attention to the fact that it was only after federalism was introduced to Kashmir in late 2005 that militancy began to decline. According to the scholar, the federal mechanism of governance is good for diverse societies because all sections of society are able to participate in the decision-making process.

In India, the central government has authority over the state governments and the parliament of India can even change the boundaries of states. There is also a provision in the constitution which enables the union government to give direction to the stats on issues concerning the union. Therefore, the distribution of powers seems to be tilted heavily in favour of the centre.

“This may look draconian on the face of it. It may seem as though there is high blood pressure at the union level and anemia at the state level,” Prof. Majeed commented. But there are clear areas of jurisdiction and the union government depends on the state government for the implementation of its policies. This is the element of self-rule which is the distinguishing feature of Indian federalism.

Furthermore, one third of seats in the Panchayat Raj or the village councils are reserved for women. As a result, there are 1.5 million women who are heads of their villages. A group that was formerly discriminated against has been politically empowered through this system. Asked if the representation was merely symbolic and whether women continue to be dominated by men, Prof. Majeed responded in the negative. He firmly contended, “That may have been true ten years ago, but today the situation is entirely different.”

Addressing the topic ‘Accommodating diversity in a federal system: principles, mechanisms and institutions’, Kate LeRoy said that federalism is often celebrated as a system which achieves unity in diversity. It is a system which has at least two levels of government within one polity, with both levels being elected by people and in direct relationship with constituents.

“It is a combination of self-rule by constituent units and shared rule of national polity. Therefore, common values can be pursued while regional differences are respected,” she opined. Highlighting the diversity in federal systems, LeRoy explained that federalism is not a model; it is a process that is constantly evolving. There are some basic features of federal systems but there is great diversity. For example, federal systems come in all shapes and sizes – they can be as large as Russia or as small as Micronesia.

So when are federal systems deemed to be most appropriate? For large countries (US, Australia and India); when accommodating history, tradition and local loyalties as new states are being formed such as (US, Australia, Germany, Switzerland and Argentina); and when accommodating ethnic, cultural; Linguistic or religious diversity and consequent demands for greater autonomy (Spain, Belgium and Philippines).

The perceived advantages are that of fostering diversity, increasing political participation, establishing / maintaining peace, enhancing accountability, and bringing governments closer to people by making them more accessible and responsive. The potential disadvantages are duplication and overlapping responsibilities; inefficiency and cost; difficulty in coordination, institutionalisation of division and exacerbation of differences and instability.

After flagging the pros and the cons, LeRoy explained that federalism is a compromise, not a zero sum-gum and therefore has no absolute winners or losers. She noted that even if the downsides are true, federalism may still be an effective compromise because it has proven its ability to keep people together and minimise conflict. Thus, in designing a new federal system, there is an opportunity to minimise possible drawbacks, the Australian academic said.

“Agreed settlement of power distribution is not set in stone and allocation of responsibilities usually changes over time. As new areas arise, the constitution may be amended or courts may interpret the constitution in a particular manner,” Le Roy stated.

Indeed, as LeRoy pointed out it may be useful to gain insights from other federal systems but Sri Lanka will ultimately need to create a constitution that fits the people and character of the country. Moreover, the advantages of federalism will not be realised if constituent units do not have the capacity to fulfill their responsibilities.

Responding to a question on whether there are examples of countries that have resolved an ethnic conflict through federal arrangements, LeRoy said that conflict has been significantly minimised in countries such as Spain, Nigeria, Ethiopia and Sudan vis-à-vis the introduction of federalism.

Prof. Majeed also added that the demand for local autonomy was addressed through power-sharing arrangements in Punjab and Kashmir as a result of which the demand for secession reduced to a great extent.

Relating the South African experience, Dr. Christina Murray said that the African National Congress (ANC) was originally strongly opposed to federalism – for understandable reasons. Apartheid had divided the homeland into Bantustans (black settlements) and the ANC didn’t want to further entrench those divisions. Also, there was a great disparity of wealth and it was felt that central control was essential for the equal re-distribution of wealth.

“They were completely suspicious of those who argued for federalism because South Africa had a bad experience of concentrated power under apartheid rule,” she said. But multi-level government was a necessary compromise in South Africa and the development brought about a well-integrated system.

Dr. Murray cited the advantages as national standards, flexibility and locally sensitive application while the disadvantages are the lack of clarity and accountability in addition to the extensive cooperation that is expected.

The ‘building out’ has been conceding real powers to provinces and the creation of varied political identities. The ‘building in’ has been unifying the nation, real role and interests at the centre, a national constitution that binds all, a second chamber, nationally organised courts and division of revenue agreed at the national level.

While immediate challenges such as humanitarian concerns have to be faced, there is little doubt that the long-term challenge in Sri Lanka is to create a new apparatus for peace. Many have opined that Sri Lanka has regressed by leaps and bounds following the ‘paradigm shift’ of 2002.

The statement by the Royal Norwegian Government commonly referred to as the Oslo Declaration at conclusion of third session of peace talks between Sri Lanka and LTTE in Oslo was hailed as a breakthrough. This was because the GOSL and LTTE agreed to explore solution based on federalism within a united Sri Lanka. The declaration went on to acknowledge that the solution has to be acceptable to all communities of the country.

As it has been noted, “Federalism is not a magic bullet that will solve all the problems.” But it can be considered the best option for moving forward. Clearly, the current system of governance has not worked and to create a system of governance that will facilitate the self-actualisation needs of all individuals, there is a need to go back to the ideas put forward on December 5, 2002. [Courtesy: Daily Mirror]

By D.B.S.JEYARAJ

Is there a Tamil Homeland in the Island now known as Sri Lanka?

The Sri Lankan Tamils have been saying “YES ” since the times of SJV Chelvanayagam. The Northern and eastern provinces are the traditional Tamil homeland emphasised Chelvanayagam. This concept was faithfully endorsed by his deputies like Vanniyasingham, Naganathan, Amirthalingam and Navaratnam. In recent times the homeland concept has been one issue on which there is general agreement among Tamils.

The notion of a Tamil Homeland was not accepted by most Sinhala, politicians , acdemics, lawyers and opinion makers. Sri Lanka belongs to all her citizens regardless of race or ethnicity they would say. No part of the Country can be the exclusive preserve of any community was the rejoinder. Historical, geographical and demographic arguments would also be adduced to dispute the homeland claim.

One reason for hostility towards the Tamil homeland theory is the fear that the concept could be used to justify secession. While exercising the right of external self – determination could lead to secession it is also possible to accommodate the homeland concept within the limits of internal self – determination. This is not contrary to the federal idea and if applied judiciously can act as an effective deterrrent against divisive tendencies.

Another reason for hostility towards the Tamil homeland theory is Sinhala supremacism itself. These proponents state that the Island belongs to Sinhala Buddhists alone and that others are interlopers. Tamils are depicted as aliens who have no claim on the Island. So arguing for a homeland is anathema to these elements.

Ironically when Tamils are attacked in the Southern provinces the state is unable to protect them and helps transport the threatened victims to the traditional Tamil homelands of North and East. Also the mobs also justify their violence by taunting their Tamil victims to “go home where you belong”. In effect the North – East is where the Tamils belong and not Colombo or elsewhere in the Island.

But implicit recognition of this homeland concept also leads to another problem. The Tamil homeland may be the North – East but they have no rights there too. So the armed forces are sent to the North – East where they act often like armies of occupation. The North – East is laid waste by state sponsored violence. So Tamils are denied rights inside and outside the North – East. Still Tamils cling on to the North – East where they have lived for generations and in a reactive response call it their traditional homeland or area of historic habitation.

This too is depicted as something wrong.Given the asymmetrical power and influence enjoyed by the numerically largest ethnicity in Sri Lanka it has been easy to overwhelm the Tamil demand for a homeland as being a racist, exclusivist concept bordering on the discredited “apartheid” system. Sinhala supremacists on the other hand are portrayed as enlightened citizens of the world who have risen above race and religion.

The Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) organization’s fascist act of expelling Muslims from the north has added credence to the charge that Tamils want an exclusive homeland where others will not be tolerated. The despicable conduct of the LTTE in this instance and many other instances, have undermined the justice of the Tamil cause in more ways than one.

Many people fail to realise that the homeland theory has its roots in Tamil insecurity and vulnerability and not in ethnic superiority or exclusivity.

Some years ago then US ambassador to Sri Lanka, Ashley Wills, delivered a controversial speech in Jaffna that hurt Tamil sentiments considerably. One aspect in particular was the US envoy’s mis- perception of the Tamil homeland theory. I wrote then an article in “The Sunday Leader” in response to Ambassador Wills. Some paragraphs from that article are re-produced here:

“It is also possible for the outside observer to be misled by the present expression of Tamil nationalism, the homeland theory being an example. The American ambassador in Sri Lanka for instance observed recently that “those in Sri Lanka who advocate separation of the state long for ethnic purity, a genetic and geographical impossibility. Worse than that it is an atavism, a denial of the harmonising, connecting forces at work in the modern world”.

This may be applicable to those Sinhala Buddhist hegemonist forces who seek to convert this multi-ethnic, multi-religious, multi-lingual, country to a mono-ethnic, mono-religious and mono-lingual state, and hark back to a past and not the future. But in the case of the Tamils the homeland theory is not a throwback to the past but one that was necessitated by the exigencies of sheer survival.

Former Opposition Leader Appapillai Amirthalingam said in the aftermath of the 1983 pogrom that the twin concerns of his party were the security of our people and the integrity of our homeland. Both concepts were interlinked. When Tamils were attacked by Sinhala mobs in 1956, 1958, 1977, 1981 and 1983 they were sent for safety to the northern and eastern provinces.

The limited political representation that the Sri Lankan Tamils have is also from these provinces. These provinces comprise the Tamil linguistic region as articulated by the Ceylon Workers Congress in the 1984 All Party Congress. This is the only regionwhere the Tamils can live in security and nourish their culture if and when war ceases.

The Tamil homeland concept was nurtured in Tamil political consciousness as a citadel of safety and not as a preserve of exclusivity. Even pacts between Sinhala leaders like SWRD Bandaranaike and Dudley Senanayake with SJV Chelvanayagam have recognised this concept tacitly.

The Indo-Lanka accord concretised this concept in 1987 by linking up both provinces into a single administrative unit and describing them as ‘areas of historic habitation by the Tamils.’.Furthermore, the existence of a Tamil homeland concept is interwoven with the Tamil demand for self-determination.

The Tamil cry for a country of their own is based on two factors. One is the historical premise where it is argued ‘Tamil sovereignty’ ceded to the Portuguese in the battle of Nallur in 1617 should have been handed back to the Tamils at the time of Independence or the advent of the republic in 1972. The Portuguese handed it to the Dutch, and the Dutch, to the British who in turn gave it over ‘illegally’ to the Sinhalese the argument goes.The Tamils seek therefore to restore lost sovereignty.

The second factor is on the basis of universally recognised canons of a self-determination that includes among other things a common territory. Sinhala hegemonism has been consistently attempting to dilute the Tamil homeland and deprive the Tamils of their last resort of safety and security. State aided colonisation schemes were executed to change the demographic pattern of the Tamil areas. The East in particular was highly vulnerable.

In fact the reference to the north and east as the ‘traditional Tamil homelands’ was first made by Chelvanayagam in response to this ‘Sinhalaisation’ of Tamil speaking areas that he described as ‘colonisation’. The Sinhala component of the north-east population has progressively increased to the point where several Sinhala representatives have been returned to parliament.When independence dawned there were none.

The war has seen the cleansing of many areas. Tamils were driven out of the strategic northeastern, Manal Aaru or Weli-Oya region and Sinhala colonists settled in a bid to destroy the territorial contiguity of the north and east. Failure to appreciate this savage bit of history could lead to misunderstandings about the genesis of the Tamil homeland theory.

Among the advantages afforded by numerical superiority to the Sinhala majority is the opportunity to camouflage discriminatory measures in the veneer of acceptable democratic norms. Reducing the Tamils to a minority within their own areas by altering the demographic balance can be explained away as an exercise of the right of every citizen to move and reside in any part of the country.

The ulterior motives of the Sinhala state and the insecurity felt by the minorities is glossed over. Even the Sinhala only bill that reduced Tamil to inferior status was passed democratically by Parliament.Most anti-Tamil measures are democratic. The emergency for example is extended every month democratically by parliament. Democracy in Sri Lanka is not that of the ‘greatest good of the greatest number’ in a non-ethnic sense but only in the context of the Sinhala Buddhist majority.

All these serve to demonstrate that Tamil nationalism was initially of a reactive nature and that it assumed a separatist hue only because of the impact of Sinhala chauvinism. Nevertheless, it must be admitted that Tamil nationalism too has acquired in recent times a ruthless virulence that does no good to the cause or the image of the Tamil people.

Also, the dormant nationalist consciousness of the Tamil people may have been awakened to such an extent that it could now be resolved only through very genuine power-sharing that goes far and beyond most concepts of devolution being bandied about nowadays.Tamils perceive themselves as a nation and not a minority now. The Sri Lankan state has to be re-invented to that of an associative structure if Tamil aspirations and grievances are to be accommodated and redressed within a united Sri Lanka whose territorial boundaries are intact.”

The viewpoints expressed in these excerpted paragraphs remain valid even now. But the advent of the Rajapakse regime has unleashed an unparalleled assault on the Tamil homeland and Tamils under the pretext of combatting the tigers. Even as these military activities go on the Rajapakse regime has also been launching a political offensive. Figuratively, this offensive is not aimed at the hearts and minds of the Tamil people but at some other part of their anatomy.

Mahinda chinthana for the Tamils envisasages a unitary state, de- merged Northern and Eastern provinces and units of devolution based on the district and village. Underlying in this approach is the assumption that all parts of the Country are common to all and that each citizen has the right to live in any place of choice.In theory this applies to Tamils too.

[Tamil youths carry their belongings as they walk to a temporary transit site in Vavuniya June 7, 2007 - Photo Yahoo! News]

But then came June 7th. In one decisive move the Rajapakse regime demonstrated that Tamils do not have the right to live even as temporary lodgers in Colombo. The capital city of a Country is where everyone should have access to and right of residence. But children of a lesser god like Tamils are not to be given that right. Moreover these Tamils were taken to the North and East. It was implicitly recognized that the Tamils have an unfettered right of residence only in those provinces.

In one stroke the Rajapakse regime re-inforced the Tamil homeland concept. This was no instance of Tamils seeking safety due to violence. This was a flagrant executive action where the state apparatus used its resources (however haphazard the implementation) to declare 376 Tamils “persona non grata” and move them forcibly to the North – Eastern provinces.The symbolism of the act amounts to much more than the actual harm or damage done. Usage of words like “extradition” “deportation” “transfer of population” etc by the media helps illustrate this fact.

It is a fact of life that hundreds of thousands of Tamils live in Colombo and the Sinhala majority areas. This is pointed out as indication of Tamils preferring to live amidst Sinhala people rather than in the North – East. If correctly handled this phenomenon could be the best proof that the separatist project has failed. But what is happening is that these Tamils are constantly subject to harassment and discrimination and viewed suspiciously as enemies of the state.This process has reached immense proportions under the Rajapakse regime

What happened on June 7th was miniscule when compared to the problems faced by Tamils elsewhere.In Sampoor for instance people from eleven villages have been driven out and their lands seized for a high security zone. It is a blatant example of ethnic cleansing. Yet it is the Colombo expulsions that have made the headlines as ethnic cleansing. Whatever the causes for this focus towards the June 7th incident there is no denying that this attention has embarassed the Rajapakse regime greatly.

More importantly it has shown that even a hawkish regime like the present one perceives the North – East as the rightful residence of Tamils. The Government may dismantle the North – East merger and try to disprove the homeland theory but in practice acknowledges that such a homeland does exist. The Tamil homeland is a state of mind. It is not necessarily confined to Tamil imagination alone.

So what of the original question about the existence of a Tamil homeland in Sri Lanka?

Yes there is!

It’s official now!!

if you have any doubts just ask the traditional homelanders from Medamulana.