America delivers!

There’s no further doubt. America truly is the greatest nation on earth. It truly is the land of opportunity, a nation of dreams. America has finally delivered on its promise that anyone born on its soil can achieve anything.

On 5th November 2008, Barack Hussein Obama won the epic contest to become the 44th President of the United States of America. It was the victory of progressiveness over backwardness, of diversity over monoculturalism, of honorable conduct over gutter politics. A nation celebrated, and the world celebrated with them.

With the benefit of hindsight, was it really going to be any other way? Not with a leader who had the charisma unseen since Bill Clinton. Not with a candidate who had been compared with Lincoln, Kennedy and Martin Luther King Jr long before election day neared. In a nation clamoring for change, Obama not only offered it, but personified it.

The calamitous reign of George W Bush made it impossible for any Republican candidate. A catalog of disasters (self-inflicted and otherwise) made the American people sick of their incumbent party. McCain and Co compounded the problem with a dirty campaign that repelled most of the undecideds. The economy hit rock bottom just four weeks before the polls. And then, there was Sarah Palin. Enough said. The writing was on the wall.

Conservative, insular and parochial forces tried their best to set the evolutionary clock backwards, but sanity prevailed. Obama swept to victory in hotly contested Florida, Pennsylvania and Ohio, and added insult to injury by prising Virginia. The traditional Democratic bastions remained blue, and McCain had to fall back on traditional Republican territory. When the dust settled, it was a monumental victory for Obama.

What does this mean for the world? Everything. America will no longer be wrongly perceived as an institution of white men trying to extend a colonialistic influence across the globe. America will be perceived for what it is, a great nation where blacks, whites, Hispanics, Asians, men, women, young and old belonged, and belonged equally. It is no longer white Uncle Sam zeroing in on unassuming targets. It’s no longer the bald eagle swooping down on oil-rich territory. America is now a friend to the world. A nation that offers hope and direction to an ailing planet.

It will be years, perhaps decades, before Americans realize the full magnitude of what they have done. They have freed their country from the shackles of slavery, slavery to parochial instincts, slavery to age-old prejudices, slavery to their own barriers.

In 1968, Martin Luther King Jr said, “I just want to do God’s will. And He’s allowed me to go up to the mountain. And I’ve looked over. And I’ve seen the promised land. I may not get there with you. But I want you to know tonight, that we, as a people will get to the promised land.”

Yes they did.

This is my India, now tell me yours

Gurdeep Singh returns to his grocery store from lunch. He is a strong, tall, turbaned, bearded Sikh. A Canadian Punjabi. He has been in Vancouver for the past 32 years. He set up his store in Vancouver’s Punjabi market, catering to the South Asian community. He has brought up his son and daughter lovingly, giving them the education he could.

To Gurdeep, India is Punjab. The wheat fields, the strong youth, the gurudwaras, the five rivers, the multitude of Sikh gurus. The Golden Temple in Amritsar is the enduring symbol of his culture. One of his proudest moments was showing the great Sikh monument to both his Canadian-born children when they went back to Amritsar a few years ago. This is his India.

A thousand kilometres south in Sunnyvale, Krishnan is finishing his dosa at Saravana Bhavan, before driving off to catch the latest Tamil movie which has been released at the Indian Movie Center in a nearby suburb. Krishnan is the typical Bay Area Tamilian. He graduated from Anna University in Madras and joined a leading Silicon Valley firm. He started off as an R&D engineer and worked his way to a team lead position, where he drives a team of 8 R&D engineers.

To Krishnan, India is Tamil Nadu. His idea of going back to India is to fly to Madras, visit his parents in T Nagar, Ranganathan uncle in Mylapore, and his in-laws in Kanchipuram. He’s a Kamal Hassan fan, so he’ll have the usual banter with his cousin who’s a Rajnikanth fan. He also loves talking about the other great duality of Tamil Nadu: DMK and ADMK. He will argue about the relative merits of Vivek and Vadivelu, and the reasons surrounding Subramanian Badrinath’s omission from the Indian cricket team. This is his India.

Halfway across the globe in Hong Kong, Manish Wadhwani is in heated discussions with his associate regarding his firm’s latest line of clothing. It is late at night, so he will soon drive off home for his daily dose of chapati. He is the archetypal Sindhi businessman. He came to Hong Kong 18 years ago, set up a business in the textile industry, and made his fortune.

To Manish, India is Bombay and Baroda. His idea of a trip to India is to fly to Bombay, take a train to Baroda and meet his clan there. His family had migrated to Baroda from Hyderabad in Sindh, Pakistan, during the partition, but to all intents and purposes, their native place was Baroda. His choice of topics include a comparison of Hong Kong with Bombay, the religious riots in Gujarat a few years earlier, Narendra Modi’s politics, and the relative merits of Sindhis vis-a-vis Gujjus and Parsis, their fellow inhabitants of Gujarat. This is his India.

There are a million more Indias living in the minds of the Bengali in Kolkata, the Malayalee in Muscat, the Tamilian in Singapore, the Gujarati in Kenya, the Kannadiga in Mysore and the UP-ite in Kanpur. It could be Rabindra Sangeet and Rabindranath Tagore for the Bengali, it could be Mohanlal’s next show in Muscat for the Malayalee, it could be Mayawati’s latest insult to her political rival for the UP-ite. One way or another, regional identities are dominant in India. Indians from different parts of India invariably view the country through different glasses. They might as well ask one another, “This is my India, now tell me yours”.

Why are regional identities so important to Indians? The answer is that India is a country of many nations. Each linguistic community in India is an ethnic group with its own history and culture. Gujaratis, Punjabis, native Hindi-speakers, Tamilians, Kannadigas and Marathis are ethnic groups as real as the French, Germans, Italians, Spaniards, Poles and Danes in Europe. Ignoring this and expecting all these communities to weld into one homogeneous identity is simply unrealistic. Indeed, attempts to homogenize countries like Pakistan and Sri Lanka have led to separatist movements and threatened the sovereignty of those countries. Even in India, an attempt to homogenize the country with one language invited a fierce backlash from the state of Tamil Nadu, which nearly seceded on the issue.

The best way to manage India’s diversity is to accept that the Indian national identity will always be the sum total of all its individual national identities. Unity is not about brushing differences under the carpet and pretending they don’t exist. Unity is about celebrating diversity, not ironing it out. It is about many colours in one rainbow. Regional identity does not conflict with Indian identity. In fact, it embellishes and adds vibrancy to it. Rabindranath Tagore, great son of Bengal and India, wrote Amar Shonar Bangla for Bengal and Jana Gana Mana for India. He was completely Bengali, completely Indian.

I’m writing this as a member of the Indian diaspora. As someone who has traveled to the northern, southern, eastern and western parts of India. As someone who knows Hindi, Malayalam and Tamil (in alphabetical order). As someone who watches movies in Bengali, Hindi, Malayalam, Tamil and Telugu (again in alphabetical order). My India is an India of 22 languages, 6 religions and a kaleidoscope of diversity. Now tell me yours.

When humanity shone through

This is a fictional story, with fictional characters (including the narrator). But it is based on a very real calamity: Black July 1983 of Sri Lanka. In July 1983, Sri Lanka was in flames, with widespread anti-Tamil riots, murders and looting. However, humanity still shone through in the form of the Sinhalese who protected the Tamils from their assailants. This story is dedicated to all the Sinhalese who helped the Tamils in one way or another.

It was 24th July 1983. I was an average ten-year old Sinhalese schoolchild in an average Colombo school. It was just like any other day. But at 3pm, the unexpected news came, and we were all jubilant. The school ended early! We had no idea why the school ended early, but we merrily left the building.

I was pleasantly surprised to see my parents’ car in the carpark. How did they know my school ended early? I went in happily. But there was no joy in my parents’ eyes. “Ranil, get in, quick!” said my mother. “Ma, I thought I had to come home on my own. How did you know my school ended early?” There was a deafening silence as my parents looked at each other as if to say, “Don’t tell him.”

There was an eerie calm on the streets as we drove out. When when we proceeded further, I saw something I had never seen in my entire life: An upside-down car burning. “How did that car end up like that?”, I asked. Mom and dad pretended they never heard me.

Further down, I saw something else that puzzled me. A bunch of tall, large men with clubs and spears. “What is happening? Are they looking for people to beat up?”, I asked. Now I sensed something was wrong. School ending early with no apparent reason, a burning car, and now a bunch of rowdies on the streets. “They are beating up some people”, said my dad. “But they won’t beat us up”, he added. I wondered what made him so sure that they won’t beat us up. I was scared. Really frightened.

Dad then turned into a road we usually do not take. I knew he had some plan, but I didn’t know what it was. Presumably knowing that I would ask where we are going, my dad said, “We’re going to Siva Uncle’s place. Then we’ll take him to our house.”

I was old enough to connect the dots. The school ending early, the unusual atmosphere, rowdies on the street, Dad’s intention to take Siva Uncle to our house. I knew some people were in danger, and Siva Uncle was one of them. There was only one missing piece in the jigsaw: Why were some people in danger, and others were not?

This missing piece in the jigsaw fell into place when we waited at a traffic light. Another bunch of rowdies appeared. My heart was in my mouth when they came to us carrying their weapons. One of the men bellowed out a simple question. A question which slammed the missing piece of the jigsaw into my head with all the force of a sledgehammer. He hollered, “Sinhalese or Tamil?”

When my father stated the fact that all three of us belonged to the former community, the rowdies started to move away. Then one of them said, “Wait. Open the boot and show us!” My dad opened the boot. Looking in and finding no one, they charged off.

We turned into one of the streets on the way to Siva Uncle’s place. We were entering Wellawatte, the Tamil locality of Colombo. A shrill, piercing scream filled the air. I saw something burning in the distance. “Ranil, close your eyes!” screamed mum. I immediately obeyed. As we drove through the street, I smelt suffocating fumes, heard unknown objects being smashed brutally, and listened to people screaming agonizingly in Tamil. All with my eyes closed. I dared not open them.

We reached Siva Uncle’s place. “Siva, come in!”, called my father. Siva tried to open the boot and get in. Dad said, “No Siva, change of plan, you go to the back of the car instead of the boot.” Siva Uncle said, “But if they see me in the back of the car and suspect that I could be…” Dad interrupted, “If they see you in the boot, they won’t suspect, they’ll know.” Siva Uncle got into the back of the car.

Siva Uncle was a friend of my dad. A Tamil as his name suggests. He had just to moved to Colombo from Jaffna three months earlier, so his Sinhalese language proficiency was only basic. We spoke to him in English most of the time. But my mum suddenly asked him in Sinhalese, “Are you Sinhalese or Tamil?” Siva Uncle replied in Sinhalese, “I’m Sinhalese.” Mom said, “The accent is still not perfect. Please say it again. Everything could depend on it.” He said it a few more times. Then they moved on to other, longer phrases. Within five minutes, Siva Uncle knew how to say, “Yes, I agree that we should kick the Tamils out of the country” in Sinhalese.

We proceeded. Siva Uncle said a few times, “I don’t know if Kamala is alright.” Kamala Aunty was his pregnant wife in Jaffna. He had just married her a year earlier and left for Colombo against her will, citing greater economic opportunities in Colombo. He was supposed to stay in Colombo for a few years, make enough money, send back enough of it, and then eventually go back to Jaffna. A simple plan, but it was suddenly in serious jeopardy.

Luckily, we managed to bring Siva Uncle home without any interruption or interrogation by the rowdies. Once we got home, Siva Uncle was anxious to contact Kamala as soon as possible. Our home did not have a phone (most homes in Sri Lanka did not at that time). Dad suggested, “I have an idea, but it’s a bit risky. We need to leave our house for a while. You said Kamala’s neighbour has a phone. My elder brother works nearby. We can go to his office and make the call. Don’t worry, we’ll get you there quickly and get you back quickly.”

Mum said, “No, Mahinda. Don’t take the risk. We’ve gone through so much to bring Siva home. Don’t let it go to waste.” Dad spent a few moments in thoughtful silence, and then said, “In that case, there’s only one thing I can think of. I’ll go on my own and call Kamala. What would you like me to tell her? You want her to come here or go anywhere else? Or just stay in Jaffna?” Siva Uncle replied, “There are refugee camps being established all over the country, including Jaffna. Tell her to go to one of those camps near Jaffna.”

Dad drove off to make the call. Those thirty minutes were hell. Though I was only ten years old, I could understand how it felt when a loved one was at risk. We were all quietly praying that dad would return with good news.

When dad got back, Siva Uncle asked agitatedly, “What happened? Did you speak to Kamala?” There was a deafening silence as we waited for the answer. Dad said, “No, but…” We all screamed, “But what?!!” Dad then broke the news. “She’s not in Jaffna. I spoke to your neighbour Mr Salim, and he said Kamala has taken a flight to Madras along with a few hundred other Tamils. She’s safe there!”

Siva Uncle hugged dad. We enjoyed unlimited relief. Siva Uncle then went up to a statue of Buddha we had, touched it, and then touched both his eyes.

Dad then elaborated, “Kamala is in a refugee camp near Madras. Once you go there, both of you will be safe. Now we need to get you to Madras.” Mum said, “Yes, but let’s wait a day or two for the violence to die down.”

The next day, something we dreaded happened. A couple of large, armed men knocked on our door and asked the inevitable question, “Are you Sinhalese or Tamil?” Dad gave a reply which has stayed in my mind ever since. I still give the same answer whenever anyone asks me if I’m Sinhalese or Tamil. Dad said, “I’m a Sri Lankan.”

They were not satisfied with the answer. They kept repeating the question. My mom then asked an interesting question. She said, “You can’t tell the difference between a Sinhalese and a Tamil unless you ask them, but you still kill people based on that difference?”

One of the rowdies bellowed, “I’m not here for a philosophical discussion. Don’t quote dhammapadha (Buddhist scriptures) here. Tell me if you’re Sinhalese or Tamil.”

If my dad told him his name was Mahinda and we were Sinhalese, the next natural step would have been searching the house, finding Siva Uncle in one of the rooms and demanding what he was doing there? Was he related to us, was he my dad’s brother, or worst of all, was he a Tamil to whom we had given shelter? Sensing this, my dad did something I least expected. He said, “My name is Mahendran. I’m a Tamil.”

The two rowdies charged in on him. My dad blocked both of them with a skilful maneuvre. He punched one of them in the neck and kicked the other in the underbelly. With a series of quick, dexterous maneuvres, he battered the rowdies into submission. As the rowdies ran away, dad said, “Come to Dehiwala Karate School! I’ve been Chief Instructor there for the past eight years!”

Siva Uncle came out of one of the rooms, and cried, “Mahinda, why did you put your life at risk for me?” Dad replied, “It takes much more than those two creatures to put my life at risk. You know very well what I do for a living!”

Based on the news in the radio, we sensed that the tensions had died down over the next two days. On 28th July, Siva Uncle left our home, giving me a kiss and hug before he left. Mom told me Siva Uncle was going to Madras to reunite with Kamala Aunty. She also added that Canada had offered to give asylum to the Tamils, and Siva and Kamala would soon leave Madras for Toronto. I asked mum, “What is meant by giving asylum to the Tamils?” Mum smiled wistfully, perhaps envious of my blissful ignorance. She said, “It means the Tamils can go to a country where they will be treated as humans.”

Later, we received the good news that Siva Uncle and Kamala Aunty had made it to Toronto without any hurdles. 25 years on, they are still happy and peaceful in Toronto. They are Canadian citizens, and both their sons are engineers. They go out on the streets knowing they won’t be arrested. They go to temples knowing they will return safely. They look to the skies for the stars, not for the planes. They can safely guess that they and their loved ones will be alive in an hour’s time.

I’m 25 years older now. In 1983, I had a lot of questions. Why should we kill someone for speaking a different language or worshipping a different god? Why did we, my dad, my mum, have humaneness while others did not? How is someone treated as a human being in all countries except his own? Many things were strange to me. 25 years later, they still are.

Spain’s Euro victory a triumph over bad politics

Leading up to Euro 2008, Spain manager Luis Aragones made a tough decision. He chose not to bring Raul back into the team. Despite the fact that Raul is the golden boy of Spanish football. Despite the fact that Raul is the heart and soul of Real Madrid, the club which represents the ruling position Spanish Spaniards have over Spain.

Now what do I mean by Spanish Spaniards? I mean Spanish citizens whose native language is Spanish. This excludes the Catalans, the Basques and the Galicians, three ethnicities who unhappily find themselves part of the Spanish country against their will. These communities are often like taxpaying colonies of Spanish Spain. Leaders from Spanish Spain have the greatest influence over the country’s fate by virtue of their numerical superiority. Spanish monocultural nationalism has taken root, where the Catalan, Basque and Galician cultures are marginalized in favour of a national, “Spanish”, culture.

Naturally these minorities don’t like it. The Basques, whose language is totally unrelated to any European language, have a separatist movement going. The Catalans are less radical due to the importance of their capital Barcelona as an economic hub. But the Catalan national consciousness has been preserved independently of the Spanish national consciousness.

                    Demonstrators with the Catalan national flag

One of the great symbols of Spanish monocultural nationalism is Real Madrid Football Club. General Franco, the enfant terrible of Spanish politics known for his Spanish nationalism and marginalization of minority cultures, was president of Real Madrid in the 60s. Madrid-based newspaper Marca is a mouthpiece for Spanish monocultural nationalism and also of Real Madrid Football Club. Real Madrid always gets a hostile reception when travelling to the Basque country to play teams from that region, because the “colonial masters are here and they deserve our treatment.”

Raul is Mr Real Madrid. And therefore Mr Spain. He has carefully cultivated an image as a Spanish monocultural nationalist, and therefore having a divine right to be in the Real Madrid and Spain teams. He is the darling of the Madrid media, particularly the infamous Marca. He followed in the footsteps of another Spanish monocultural nationalist, Fernando Hierro, who was also Mr Real Madrid and Mr Spain. Inevitably, both Hierro and Raul were captain of Spain.

The Spanish national team has always had a Catalan “faction” and a Basque “faction”, players belonging to these communities who have done well enough to get into the national team. Examples include Catalans Cesc Fabregas and Carles Puyol, and Basque Xabi Alonso. The average Catalan or Basque player plays for Spain because it is the only national team they can play for. There are some extraordinarily principled players like Barcelona’s Catalan defender Oleguer who simply refuse to play for the national team, but they are exceptions. Any Spanish national selection has an inevitable component of Catalans and Basques.

Players like Hierro and Raul come with their inextricable baggage of Spanish nationalism, Real Madrid, General Franco and Marca. To compound the problem, these Spanish nationalistic players are usually captain, and the dominant presence in the dressing room. You cross them, and it’s hasta la vista (Spanish for “so long, bye bye”). Such players never see eye to eye with the Catalan faction and the Basque faction. Catalans and Basques are often perceived as not being committed enough to the national cause, so Raul and Co are usually harsh on them. Catalan and Basque players quietly curse the privileged position enjoyed by players of Raul’s ilk, and slowly build up resentment.

This atmosphere of mutual distrust is one of the main reasons for Spain’s underachievement in World Cups and European Championships. The team has always been a collection of exceptional individuals and king-sized egos, and have never won the World Cup. They had only one European Championship victory (achieved in 1964) to their name.

That was until now. Luis Aragones, the 69 year-old grand man of Spanish football, decided to take a stand against bad politics. He decided that there was no place for Raul in the Spain team. He was villified by the Madrid-based media. He was almost hounded out by the press, and even announced prior to Euro 2008 that he would be leaving after the tournament and taking over at Turkish club Fenerbahce. The only thing that could save his reputation was victory in Euro 2008.

Aragones promptly delivered it. With a swashbuckling style of football that everyone else envied, Spain stormed to the Euro 2008 title. There was a sudden unity about the team, epitomised by Catalans Fabregas and Puyol making immense contributions to the cause. Another Catalan, Xavi, was even named Player of the Tournament. There was no disruptive influence in the dressing room. Everyone played for the country. Everyone celebrated victory regardless of whether they were Catalans, Basques or, for want of a better term, Spanish Spaniards.

Sergio Ramos, the Spanish Spaniard from Andalucia, celebrated Spain’s Euro 2008 victory by draping the flag of Andalucia round himself. The blogosphere was filled with comments about the wisdom of such a move. Some mentioned the calamity that would have ensued if anyone had flown the Catalan or Basque flag instead. Headlines like “Xabi Alonso the Basque separatist” or “Fabregas the national traitor” would have appeared on, where else, Marca.

                   
                Sergio Ramos (centre) with the Andalucian flag

An interesting moment occurred when the sole Basque in the team, Xabi Alonso, received the Spanish flag which was being passed around among the players. He looked distinctly uncomfortable and passed it on quickly. As I told you earlier, Basques and Catalans play for Spain because it’s the only national team they can play for. But to their credit, they have conducted themselves very well and made mammoth contributions to the cause.

To put things into perspective was one Marcos Senna, a man born halfway across the world in Brazil, who took up Spanish citizenship in his twenties, made his debut for the national team at 30, and became the heartbeat of Spain’s victorious Euro 2008 team. Seeing him in Spanish colours celebrating jubilantly, you cannot but wonder if the Spanish-Catalan-Basque divide has been blown out of proportion by bad politics.

No such bad politics here. Aragones has weeded out disruptive elements and led the nation to glory. The Madrid press who villified Aragones for his decisions have now gone strangely silent. And Senor Raul, hasta la vista.

Where every prospect pleases and only man is vile

In 1956, Singapore’s budding leader Lee Kuan Yew visited Ceylon. He was impressed with the country, and noted that it was far ahead of Singapore in many respects. He decided he wanted to make Singapore another Ceylon.

That same year, Solomon Bandaranaike was elected President of Ceylon. His election promise was to make Sinhalese the sole national language and Buddhism the sole national religion. After being elected by the Sinhalese Buddhist majority, he was true to his word.

Without any warning, Sinhalese replaced English as the language of education and business. Tamils, Muslims and Burghers who had their entire education in English realized they were no longer economically useful. Hindus, Muslims and Christians realized their religion had no place in the national framework. Sinhalese Buddhist monocultural nationalism had taken root in Ceylon. The implosion had begun.

Politicians justified their monocultural nationalism by quoting the Mahavamsa, the national epic of the Sinhalese people which includes the life story of Prince Vijaya, the founder of the Sinhalese race, and the arrival of Buddhism on the island. Politicians interpreted the Mahavamsa in their own way to claim that the island of Sri Lanka was gifted to the Sinhalese Buddhists, and they were the rightful ruling race. The Sinhalese symbol – the sinha, or lion – found a place in the national flag, representing the divine right the Sinhalese people had over the island.

                     Flag of Sri Lanka with the Sinhalese lion

The national framework of Sri Lanka completely ignored the fact that northern Sri Lanka had been Tamil territory for its entire recorded history. A combination of political rhetoric, cultural marginalization, and - most importantly – economic disenfranchisement, meant that the Tamils were second class citizens. In later years, things became worse with outright ethnic cleansing of Tamils. Murders and rapes of Tamils became common, as did damage to Tamil businesses and institutions. The Sencholai Massacre, Jaffna Public Library Destruction and Black July 1983 were some of the many horrifying incidents.

        Destruction of Tamil businesses during Black July 1983

It was a matter of time before the chickens (or in this case, tigers) came home to roost. In 1970, an unknown Tamil man burnt a public bus. It was the first act of violence against the Sri Lankan state. In 1972, the same man founded an organization to rise up against the government. In 1975, the same man assassinated a Tamil mayor of Jaffna who had aligned himself with the Sinhalese government. The unknown man was no longer unknown. Today everyone knows who is that man, and which is the organization he founded.

With the Tamils taking up arms to fight for their rights, it was no longer a one dimensional matter of a majority-ruled state persecuting a minority community. The backlash had begun. For every massacre perpetrated in the Tamil fortresses of Jaffna and Trincomalee, the backlash was felt in the Sinhalese heartlands of Colombo and Kandy. With a lion and a tiger locked in unceasing conflict tearing each other apart, the entire jungle has suffered and become a mass grave. Millions of lives have been stunted by death, disability, displacement and despair.

In the meantime, Singapore’s Lee Kuan Yew chose not to go down a path of monocultural nationalism. He gave equal rights to every language and every religion, and enshrined a culture of absolute meritocracy. The outcome was a prosperous, progressive and harmonious country.

The same Lee Kuan Yew now mentions wistfully that he saw a promising country, Ceylon, go to waste. He comments on the irony that a country whose ancient name Serendib gave us the word serendipity is now the epitome of pain, sorrow, despair and hopelessness. Serendib is one of the most naturally gifted countries in the world. Its beaches and harbours are among the best. Tea, crabs and other natural resources give it immense economic potential. The legendary religious sites of Anuradhapura, Kandy, Jaffna and Trincomalee are potentially great tourist spots. And as an English-speaking country, it’s not hard to imagine the outsourcing boom spilling over there.

All these went to waste because of the decisions of a few men at a critical juncture of the country’s history. As P G Wodehouse used to describe houses which looked beautiful but were ruined by the wrong people, Sri Lanka is a country where every prospect pleases and only man is vile. The damage looks irreversible now. Too much water – and blood – has flowed under the bridge.

The man who saw forever

 

Sir Arthur C. Clarke

On March 19th 2008, Sir Arthur C. Clarke passed away in his adopted home of Colombo, Sri Lanka. The nonagenarian left behind a stupendous legacy. He was at once an author, inventor, futurist, visionary, mathematician, pilot, radar specialist, nature lover, scuba diver and underwater explorer. To categorize him as any single one of these would be an injustice to his myriad talents.

As a science fiction writer, he was par excellence. He made his name dealing with space adventures and alien civilisations. His fertile imagination, grounded in an unshakeable knowledge of astrophysics, put him in a league of his own. With a penchant for the cosmic, a vast repertoire of knowledge, and an ability to see things before they became visible, Clarke was quite simply a visionary. He was the man who saw forever.

Arthur Charles Clarke was born in Somerset, England, in 1917. He had the same humble beginning of any astrophysicist: stargazing. The young Clarke showed an avid interest in American science fiction magazines, which whetted his appetite.

Unable to afford a university education, Clarke joined the Royal Air Force after his secondary education. He served in several capacities, such as Radar Specialist, Pilot Officer, Flying Officer and Flight Lieutenant. After the Second World War, he earned a first class degree in physics and mathematics from King’s College, London. He served in the British Interplanetary Society.

Clarke started writing to scientific magazines such as Wireless World. In 1948, he wrote a short story called “The Sentinel” for a BBC competition. The story was rejected, but went on to be a turning point in Clarke’s career. It introduced a mystic and cosmic element to Clarke’s work, an element which would define him forever. He wrote his first novel, Prelude To Space, in 1951, and there was no turning back. He later wrote over 30 novels and 20 non-fiction books.

He wrote The Fountains of Paradise, portraying a space elevator leading from earth to a space station. Rendezvous With Rama depicted an alien spaceship mistaken for an asteroid and named after the Hindu god Rama. The Sands of Mars described a human colony on Mars, where colonists adopt numerous scientifically believable techniques to make the planet inhabitable. Dolphin Island was inspired by his adventures as an underwater explorer. The Hammer of God depicted a religious sect attempting to convert humans into terabytes of computer information.

He is most famous for his 1968 novel, 2001: A Space Odyssey, about an ancient and unseen alien race performing evolutionary experiments with humanity. The aliens use devices with the appearance of large crystal monoliths to investigate faraway worlds, and if possible, encourage intelligent life there. It revolves around Captain Bowman, who is drawn into one of those monoliths and turned into an immortal “star child”, charged with the task of coming back to earth and catalysing evolution. The novel was simultaneously made into a movie by director Stanley Kubrick. Clarke followed 2001: A Space Odyssey with three sequels.

His contributions were more than just literary. His vision proved to be the catalyst for two important technological breakthroughs of the 20th century. He was the first to suggest that geostationary satellites could be ideal telecommunications relays facilitating near-instantaneous transmissions. He conceived this in 1945, and saw his dream bear fruit barely 20 years later. His prediction that man would set foot on the moon by 2000 was a driving force motivating NASA to realize the vision as early as 1969.

He was human though, and some of his predictions went off the mark. He cheekily predicted that humans would use apes as household servants by the end of the 20th century. He also warned us that the apes will form unions and create a ruckus!

Compared to Clarke’s other achievements, his formulation of the Three Laws of Prediction may seem a little trivial. But they are noteworthy for their sheer wit.

1. When a distinguished but elderly scientist states that something is possible, he is almost certainly right. When he states that something is impossible, he is very probably wrong.

2. The only way of discovering the limits of the possible is to venture a little way past them into the impossible.

3. Any sufficiently advanced technology is indistinguishable from magic.

He later formulated a fourth one:

4. For every expert there is an equal and opposite expert.

In 2007, Clarke completed 90 orbits around the sun. He was now in a wheelchair, but his mind continued to reach the farthest outposts of the universe. He marked his 90th birthday by speaking to his followers through a Youtube video. He expressed three birthday wishes: For ET to call, for mankind to quit his addiction to oil, and for lasting peace in Sri Lanka. He could not resist making more predictions. He declared this the beginning of the golden age of space travel. He predicted that thousands of space tourists will travel to the moon and beyond within the next 30 years.

In 2001: A Space Odyssey, Captain Bowman attains the status of an immortal star child, and is sent back to earth to inspire evolutionary leaps. That may well describe Arthur C. Clarke himself. Evolutionary catalyst, immortal star child.

Virtually another life

Over the last couple of years, I’ve heard murmurs about the virtual world called Second Life. I had pushed it to the recesses of my mind, thinking it’s just another game. What did not help was the similarity the name ‘Second Life’ had with the name of the game ‘Half Life’. I felt it was one among the crowd.

Then I heard something that aroused my curiosity. Second Life has its own economy. Now, economy is a big word. Your run-of-the-mill games don’t have economies. For the first time, I sensed that this was something different. I finally became curious enough to find out more, and what I found out was beyond my wildest expectations.

First of all, Second Life is not a game. It’s a virtual world, with an economy and real estate of its own. You are known as a resident. You own houses, cars, clothes and accesories. You socialise. You form communities with people who share your tastes. Here’s the icing on the cake: You can make real money in this virtual world. Yes, real money.

Whatever you can do in your first life, you can do in this second life. It’s virtually another life. You acquire a representation of yourself, called an avatar. Through your avatar, you live in this virtual world. You buy land, develop it into prime real estate, and sell to other avatars. You make cars and sell them. You design clothes and sell them. You can even make music and sell it. The currency here is Linden Dollars, which can be converted to US Dollars anytime you wish. This is how you make real money.

It seems counter-intuitive. Why would anyone want to buy a virtual house or a virtual car? Believe it or not, it makes business sense.

Let’s say I buy a house for 5000 Linden Dollars, and I rent it out to another resident for 12 months, for 500 Linden Dollars a month. At the end of the year, I’ll make a profit of 1000 Linden Dollars, convert it to US Dollars, and have real cash.

But why would another resident want to rent my virtual house? Because just like in our first life, we need a home in our second life. We need a virtual home as a base, and go about our virtual business. Another resident can rent my house, paying 6000 Linden Dollars to me over a year. The same resident can make music and sell it in Second Life. If he earns more than 6000 Linden Dollars a year, he makes a profit and converts it into real, hard cash.

So what’s in it for Linden Labs, the San Francisco company which created Second Life and runs it? They make money primarily by leasing “land” to residents (who use it for their virtual business purposes by creating houses, shops, and even virtual tourist attractions with the land).

Linden Labs have another source of income. Brands who want a slice of the pie. A company or advertising agency can buy an “island” for a one-time fee and a monthly rate. General Motors and Nissan have started selling virtual cars in Second Life. Coke has created Coke Studios, where avatars mix songs and play their mixes to other residents. Nike and Adidas sell digital and real-life versions of their products. Financial institution Wells Fargo built Stagecoach Island in Second Life, and calls it the world’s first virtual-reality financial literacy game. Starwood Hotels raised awareness of its new brand of hotels (called Aloft Hotels) by building virtual hotels in Second Life. Sun Microsystems held a pavilion showcasing its products. Pop artist Ben Folds promoted a new album with two virtual appearances.

Now that is something!

Coke’s “island” in Second Life

Sun Microsystems pavilion in Second Life

But there’s one thing I simply do not understand. There are red light areas in Second Life! Come on, surely we know certain things cannot be simulated!

You know it’s truly a complete world when there is terrorism in it! There is an organization known as the Second Life Liberation Army (SLLA) modeled on real-life separatist organizations such as the Palestine Liberation Army (PLA) and the Kosovo Liberation Army (KLA). The SLLA stages attacks on virtual stores. The SLLA says it’s fighting for stock in Linden Labs, and voting rights for avatars.

The Second Life Liberation Army attacks a Reebok store!

Second Life is probably the most successful instance of a virtual world dominating people’s consciousness to such an extent that almost every real-life phenomenon is replicated there. There are other virtual worlds like Entropia Universe, which I hear are not bad either. Maybe the virtual world is no longer an amusing curiosity but a serious world with real opportunities.

Let the games begin (on second thoughts, is it really a game?)

Understanding glocalisation

It’s often debated whether globalisation destroys indigenous cultures. We hear outcries about worldwide McDonaldization. But we have not yet understood a phenomenon called glocalisation, where people have global and local perspectives at the same time. Glocalised folks zoom in and out. They have tremendous global awareness and insightful local knowledge.

The first thing that comes to mind is HSBC, the bank which calls itself “The world’s local bank”. They also say, never underestimate the importance of local knowledge. They show their awareness of local sports in several countries by sponsoring English Rugby League side Telford Raiders, American Ice Hockey club Buffalo Sabres and Mexico’s Pachua Football Club. They sponsor the Great Canadian Geography Challenge and the Celebration of Light, an annual musical fireworks competition in Vancouver.

The next thing that comes to mind is the Friends of the Earth International (FOEI), an international network of environmental organizations in 70 countries. FOEI founder David Brower coined the slogan, “Think globally, act locally”.

The slogan “Think globally, act locally” in Sofia, Bulgaria

FOEI campaigns against the creation of genetically modified organisms,  industries that exacerbate global warming, and conversion of forests to agricultural areas. To do so, they need to act with insightful local knowledge, and marry it with a global perspective. In their own words, “Our international positions are informed and strengthened by our work with communities, and our alliances with indigenous peoples, farmers’ movements, trade unions, human rights groups and others”. Looks like they walk the talk when it comes to thinking globally and acting locally!

There’s a pertinent need for management consultants to understand and interpret localised phenomena. For instance, management consultants advising corporations on microfinance need a detailed understanding of institutions like Banco Caja Social Colombia (BCSC), a leading microfinance institution in Latin America. Bangladesh’s Grameen Bank has become another favourite microfinance case study.

Inquisitive visitors at a Grameen Bank meeting in Bangladesh

The entertainment industry is another arena where glocalisation is the name of the game. Analysts of Indian cinema have recently observed a glocal phenomenon among the Indian diaspora, particularly those in the USA. They all want to watch movies in their mother tongues. According to this article, India’s Reliance Entertainment has started making films in several Indian languages to reach out to this diaspora.

President of Reliance Entertainment, Rajesh Sawhney, says, “We have observed that as people start earning more, entertainment actually goes local, rather than turning towards the global English language…..Indians staying in overseas markets want their children to learn their native language and cinema is the best way”. The word glocalisation could succintly describe what he’s talking about.

If glocalisation is correctly understood and promoted, there is no need to fear that globalisation will destroy local cultures. The global village is actually glocal.

How Lexus broke the mould

In the 80s, Toyota had a problem. It wanted to break into the luxury car market. But it had a status as a maker of mass cars. Toyota Corona, Corolla, Camry, Vios and Crown were all mass cars. They could not just launch a Toyota some-thing-else as a sub-brand, and expect it to break into the luxury car niche.

What they needed was a standalone brand, whose attributes were independent of those of Toyota. They embarked on a top-secret project named F1. They took on the world’s best luxury car makers at their own game. They observed the Mercedes closely and designed the Lexus. The proportions, angles and curves of the Lexus closely followed the Mercedes. A string of awards proved that Lexus was high on quality, on par with Mercedes. We say imitation is the sincerest form of flattery, but Mercedes was not flattered when Lexus captured a sizeable share of the market!

Toyota and its long-term advertising agency Saatchi & Saatchi went into overdrive (spot the pun) to market Lexus. Lexus had its own persona and its own corporate mission statement. It had its own slogan, “The Relentless Pursuit of Perfection”, which was later changed to “The Passionate Pursuit of Perfection”. An image consulting firm was hired to develop a list of 219 prospective names. Five top candidates were chosen, including Alexis. Alexis became Lexus.

A marketing pitch demonstrating the smooth driving experience offered by Lexus

Lexus has grown to be the top-selling luxury car in the United States, and the fourth largest luxury car brand in the world. It competes with other luxury brands like Jaguar, Audi, BMW, Mercedes and Porsche. It is not considered as being under the Toyota umbrella the same way as Toyota Crown or Toyota Camry. Toyota is the parent company which takes the back seat (another pun) and lets their standalone cash cow do the trick.

Lexus reminds me of regional economies which perform better than the countries they belong to. Kenichi Ohmae wrote a memorable book called “The End of the Nation State: The Rise of Regional Economies”. He spoke of regional economies within countries, which operate with significant autonomy from the national economy. To quote him, “nation states have already lost their role as meaningful units of participation in the global economy of today’s borderless world…..It makes even less sense today to speak of Italy or Russia or China as a single economic unit.”

Examples he cited include Penang in Malaysia, Catalonia in Spain, and Baden-Wurttemberg in Germany. I would add two further examples to strengthen his case: The Rhone-Alpes region of France and the Lombardy region of Italy. These two along with Catalonia and Baden-Wurttemberg constitute The Four Motors of Europe, four highly industrialized regions in Europe with high potential for economic growth.

Such regional economies are standalone brands like Lexus. They have brand attributes independent of the country they belong to, just like Lexus took a detour from Toyota brand attributes. Countries with consistently high growth rates across the entire nation are like Mercedes or BMW. But countries with uneven growth rates are like Toyota, and fast-growing regional economies within these countries are like Lexus. These regional economies can grow at rates higher that the national average, and compete with fast-growing countries. Toyota may not be able to compete with Mercedes or BMW, but Lexus can.

Trans-national minorities

If you are French, German, Italian, Japanese, Chinese, Korean, Thai or Turkish, you belong to a nation-state. You belong to a country which has been united for its entire history. You share the same language and culture as your countrymen.

But not all nationalities are like yours. In a world where new nationalities are carved up and old nationalities evolve, a common phenomenon is the trans-national minority. A community with a shared culture, a separate language, an independent history and a collective consciousness, but without a country to show for it. Sometimes, these trans-national minorities peacefully remain part of a larger country, and sometimes, they instigate bloody wars of separatism.

The Basques are a case in point. They are Europeans alright, but their language is unrelated to other European languages, much to the surprise of sociolinguists. Their territory spans southwestern France and northeastern Spain. They are a peaceful part of France, but in Spain, it’s a different story altogether.

The Spaniards under the “leadership” of General Franco waged a bloody war to annex the Basque country into Spain. He imported the latest German fighter planes and bombed the Basque country. This was depicted by Pablo Picasso in his famous painting Guernica. The Basque country fell to Franco, but they have never been happy since. Even today, the Basque separatists are fighting for an independent homeland in the north of Spain.

Picasso’s Guernica depicted the violent annexation of the Basque country

The Basques are not the only trans-national minority in Spain. The Catalans are similar. Their native region is Catalonia in eastern Spain, and they speak Catalan. They know Spanish due to its administrative and business importance, but they have a strong identity as a Catalan nation. Catalonia is disproportionately successful economically. Therefore, they tolerate the linguistic and cultural domination of the Spaniards, and do not aspire for secession.

The Galicians of northern Spain are another trans-national minority. They are known to favour secession, but they don’t get the publicity the Basque separatists get, probably because fewer instances of violence are associated with them.

Over to the Middle East, the Kurds are a prominent trans-national minority, with territories in Turkey, Iraq and Iran. They have received publicity as one of the communities persecuted by Saddam Hussein. They have always been looking to separate from Iraq, and recently, there are nascent murmurs of separatism in Turkey too. There is a significant Kurdish diaspora in Europe and North America. Google’s Director of Sales, Omid Kordestani, is a Kurd as his name suggests.

The Kurdish region, with territories in Turkey, Iraq and Iran

The Pashtuns (also known as Pathans) are a trans-national minority whose native region lies in southern Afghanistan and northern Pakistan. They have a significant presence in the cities of Peshawar and Karachi. There is a Pashtun diaspora all over the world, particularly India and the USA. There is a subculture of Pashtun nationalism in Pakistan, but this does not have popular support, as Pashtuns have integrated well into Pakistani society and have high representation in the government, military and business.

The Indian subcontinent is a hotbed of trans-national minorities. The Punjabis of India and Pakistan have a shared culture and history, and were divided only by religion during the time of the partition. Ditto for the Bengalis of eastern India who share their roots with the neighbouring Bangladeshis.

The Tamils are a trans-national minority of southern India and northern Sri Lanka. There are 65 million Tamils native to Tamil Nadu province in India, 3 million Tamils native to northern and eastern Sri Lanka, and a significant diaspora all over the world.

Unofficial flag of Tamils, with the words, “All towns are our own, all people are our kin”

At the time of India’s independence, there were murmurs of separatism in Tamil Nadu, especially when Hindi was imposed as the sole official language of India. Riots erupted in Tamil Nadu opposing the imposition of Hindi. This caused an amendment to the Indian Constitution, giving official language status to 22 languages. This also caused the reorganization of Indian states along linguistic lines, to give each linguistic community a state with some degree of autonomy. This appeased the separatist sentiments of Tamils.

Indian Tamils today are contented due to the industrialization and urbanization of Tamil Nadu, and the success of the province in many industries like textiles, automobiles and healthcare. Tamils still complain about the cultural domination of the Hindi-speaking North, but this has not manifested itself into separatist tendencies, simply because Tamils don’t face economic problems. There is little support for separatism in Tamil Nadu today.

It was an entirely different story for the Tamils in Sri Lanka. At the time of independence, there were only 2 million Tamils in Sri Lanka, among whom 1 million were Indian Tamils who were denied Sri Lankan citizenship. The 1 million Sri Lankan Tamils had neither numerical strength nor a large geographical area. So when Sinhalese, the language of the majority Sinhalese community, was made the sole official language of the country, the Tamils could not prevent it through their protests.

Sinhalese became the language of education and business. The English-educated Tamils were disenfranchised. The better-educated Tamils with skillsets left the country, and contributed to the success of countries like Singapore. The remaining Tamils protested peacefully for decades, such as tarring the Sinhalese signboards (an echo of their brethren in India who tarred Hindi signboards). But over the decades, hostility slowly escalated, gradually adopting the form of violence. Four Tamil militant groups emerged, and fought with each other for the right to represent Tamils. After a Darwinian struggle, the LTTE emerged as the last group standing.

Some well-publicised instances of violence brewed hatred between the two communities, escalating the conflict. The ambush and killing of 12 Sri Lankan Army soldiers by the LTTE was a watershed event. It heralded the infamous events of July 1983 (known as Black July). Furious Sinhalese civilians killed Tamil civilians (hundreds of them if you believe the Sinhalese, thousands of them if you believe the Tamils). Tamil localities in several Sri Lankan cities were burnt. Tamil-owned businesses and factories were destroyed. The economic loss to Sri Lanka was estimated at US$ 300 million.

Destruction of Tamil-owned homes and businesses during Black July

Black July was the straw that broke the camel’s back. The direct outcome was a bloody civil war that has claimed 70,000 lives in the past 25 years. Sri Lanka was arguably the most promising country in South Asia in the middle of the 20th century, with the right size and natural resources. But today it’s surviving on the aid of numerous countries, and grappling with a terrible human rights record. Singapore’s leader Lee Kuan Yew has remarked, “It is sad that the country whose ancient name Serendip has given the English language the word ’serendipity’ is now the epitome of conflict, pain, sorrow and hopelessness”.

Trans-national minorities need to be handled with sensitivity. An important first step is to acknowledge their right to be different. Attempts at assimilating them into a supposed “national” culture have always resulted in communal tensions. Trans-national minorities need to retain their identity, and at the same time become part of a beautiful whole. Countries with trans-national minorities should preserve the culture of those trans-national minorities, adding to the richness of a pluralistic national culture. The mosaic is always more attractive than the melting pot.