Yay Tay

This is not a paid endorsement. I just felt compelled to put my index finger on my touch phone and do a Pensieve on my thoughts. 

Like millions of people, I’ve been listening to Taylor Swift’s new release. Is it a double? A triple? How many songs has this wunderkind generated in the years while the rest of the world got confused and Covided? Taylor went within, and got very still. 

I’m generally quite cautious of 7 foot tall Valkyries with flashing ice blue eyes. I like the way she has systematically softened and played with her public persona, like the childhood plasticine product we called play doh, shape shifting herself, and attuning to her responsive audience with some sincerity and great finesse. 

I have listened with great amusement to the opinions of someone called Candace Owens who continually criticises Tay Tay for playing at being a perpetual child, a little girl playing at being a princess, and glorifying her puerile little dramas, finding ready sympathy from her global teenage girl audience, even now when she is in her mid thirties. I’m amused because Taylor Swift is not the first person who has been criticized for this. Tori Amos, whose work I adore, was asked why she continually wrote intense and angst-ridden songs. She said, if I recall correctly, ‘Because I’m not a cartoon’. 

Women artists are continually criticized for making personal relationships the subject of their work. Jane Austen’s novels, for example, admired for their moral intelligence, vivid characterisation, and superb syntax, are also often dismissively described as ‘mere love stories’. As if relationships are somehow not as significant as going to war or making a killing on the stock market floor, or the football stadium, the cricket pitch, the law courts: the forums where men are geared and groomed to win. 

I find it fascinating that, as the global number of incels grows, and misogyny is still part of so many entrenched values and unquestioned beliefs which shape our society, Taylor Swift’s trenchant critiques of men and boys she has felt for over the 20 years of her career have also gained such powerful traction. 

I especially turn a glad eye on the number of relationships she references in her songs. She never names the lovers she challenges, and leaves space thereby for her listeners to insert their own Romeos and those who have fallen short of their dreams and ambitions of romantic love. This guessing game prompted by her reticence has hugely fuelled her fame. 

Taylor understands that relationships are an arena, and the challenge of face to face, skin to skin, and hand to hand combat is one of the most exciting and interesting skirmishes we as human beings can undertake. It encompasses military strife, epiphanies, shame, pride, shyness and outrage. All the big feelings in the human lexicon. 

Some may accuse her of promiscuity or being unable to maintain a long term, committed relationship. In conservative South Asia, the first line of the chorus of ‘Cruel Summer’ (‘I’m drunk, in the back of your car’) would have her cancelled as a candidate for eligible sons from Madurai and Mumbai to Myanmar and The Maldives - and even Manhattan. It is liberating to see a woman who sees herself as a whole person, undefiled and untarnished by her capacity to feel and act on her romantic and sexual feelings. Who is not confined to them, or defined by them. 

Her lyrics speak not of a person notching up body counts, or boasting of sexual conquests. But rather, of a person seeking a high ideal in a shallow and superficial world. And who clearly feels all the feelings, in engaging with significant others. A person, moreover, who places a high internal value on herself, and has done from the start of her career. Who does not accept second or third rate treatment from anyone, and who does not seem to expect others to do so from her as a twisted sign of her own ‘status’, the way that celebrities and public figures often do. 

Her net worth now finally reflects the person she has always known herself to be. 

Taylor Swift is dating some very high profile men. And these are likely to be very narcissistic and proud individuals, who have their own challenges in facing and mastering their egoistic ‘master of the universe’ compulsions, and who have left their own trails of broken hearted camp followers behind in their quest for personal glory. 

I like that Taylor Swift generally does not oversexualise herself - with the exception of her recent new album cover. On stage, her shiny leotards allow freedom of movement in an energetic show. And her flowing dresses do not put any voluptuousness on display. She has a sense of humour, and a smart take on the constructions and reductions imposed on performers and artists by the media, and thus, like Madonna and Tori Amos, can celebrate her personal diversity and depth through exploring a range of personae across an evolving and interesting career. 

Her focus is on the complexity of human feelings. And her lyrics show that, for her, thought as well as intense emotion are invested in personal relationships, whether friends, lovers, foes or faux. The songs are poetic because they process sonically and verbally the journey of these relationships, and many allow us to emerge at the close of the song with her, as a form of release, through confrontation, penance and realisation. 

I believe that when Taylor Swift becomes a grand old lady she will look like the character Diane Lockhart in ‘The Good Fight’. Grandmother will be grandmothering, beaming on us and urging us to grow past our pain, into the best, bejewelled, versions of ourselves that we can be. Adding value to our own lives, as well as hers. Intense, and never submitting to reduction or redaction.

And Gladly Would She Learn, And Gladly Teach’: Appreciation Of Yasmine Gooneratne

My Mother, Yasmine Gooneratne, passed away on Thursday night this week. She was 88 years old, having been born in 1935.

Emeritus Professor Yasmine was an academic, a scholar, a researcher, a creative writer and a teacher. She was an exemplary and meticulous student at the Universities of Peradeniya and Cambridge, as well as an encouraging and inspiring teacher at the University of Peradeniya and Macquarie University in Sydney. She is internationally renowned, for her contributions and her insights into literature, especially the literatures of South Asia and Australia.

This is what is well known about this lady who is called a trailblazer and a writer of renown. She is part of a generation which produced some towering figures who are regarded as icons.

Yasmine Gooneratne as a private individual left very clear instructions about what she wished, regarding her funeral. Her directives show a great deal about her character and her values. ‘No public notices. No public viewing. No public funeral. No memorial lectures. No fuss. No feathers. No posturing. No performativeness. No photographers. No selfies. No celebrities. No nonsense.’
Arranging such an event in contemporary Sri Lanka is quite a challenge! Cultural traditions are part of what make our society hold together, in a disrupted world. But although her position is sometimes described by younger writers as monumental, her attitudes are open minded, fresh thinking and often challenging of norms and accepted beliefs. She was characteristically very tactful, and restrained, but she was also a person who had strong convictions, and intense likes and dislikes. Her enthusiasm for new discoveries was an exhilarating experience to witness.

On a personal level, she had great contempt for hypocrisy, and cruelty. She had a great sense of humour and a lively sense of fun. But as she was a person of moral integrity, the repulsive conduct of people who prey upon the vulnerable saddened her, especially as she grew older. While always wanting and choosing to believe the best in people, she found herself unable to accept even in tolerance the lies that are spun by opportunists and predators on a daily basis. Her good opinion, once lost, was lost forever.

The darkening landscape of the world we live in was often remedied for her by music, art, the joy of beautifully made films and the beauty and versatility of literature. She read to my brother and me when we were children, and the great stories from the Mahabharata and childrens’ classics like 101 Dalmatians were thus introduced to us in the best way possible: through the loving and expressive voice of our mother.

Yasmine Gooneratne was a wonderful cook, and an enthusiastic concert goer and ballroom dancer. She beamed with approval on romantic love, and believed in the renewing and reviving effect of love on the human psyche: considering the transformative experience of falling in love to be one of the closest approximations available to us of the divine.

She was a generous person, in every way: generous with sharing her great knowledge with students and emerging writers, as a mentor. Generous in welcoming guests to our home. Generous in extending grace to broken people - her compassion was inherited by my brother, one of the most compassionate people we ever knew.

She did not judge people on external factors. She did not look down on uneducated people. She was uninterested in people’s assumptions about her, often launched by people who had issues and grievances with people from elite or elevated backgrounds. But she believed that people should try to develop themselves, in every situation in life. She shared with my Father the belief that life was a great adventure, and I believe that part of the reason for their wonderful marriage lasting 60 years of their lives is that shared certainty. They each chose a wonderful companion in the adventure, and actively participated in each other’s soul growth.

Of course I am biased, because I know her very well, and knew her close up. But I want to say that even if I was not her child, or related to her, I would still find her endlessly interesting. Because of her impatience with cliches and lazy thinking, her conversation was one of the highlights of my life.

I take the opportunity to thank Yasmine Gooneratne for her outstanding dedication and commitment to every task she undertook. She was whole hearted, in every thing she did. She rose to the challenges she was faced with, and uplifted many who knew her by doing so.

She was a resonant role model whose impact only grows with the years.

Her initials were M.Y. Gooneratne. And we were proud to call her ours. But her work belongs to everyone who appreciates it.

Responsible Reporting Required

Sexual and reproductive awareness is essential for the health of all human beings, but it is often neglected or stigmatized in Sri Lanka. This problem is not just measured in the large numbers of women and girls suffering menstrual poverty, unwanted pregnancies, and sexually transmitted diseases. It also includes the psychosocial aspect of sexual health: specifically, the vulnerability of people to sexual abuse.

For example, a recent newspaper article misleadingly framed a rise in the rates of statutory rape as ‘rape with consent’. This terminology is confusing, suggesting that rape, which is an act of violation and assault, can be consented to by a victim. The statistics cited in the article illustrate the flaws of the outdated laws that are applied in such cases. Statutory rape is a serious offence that violates the rights and dignity of all victims, especially children and adolescents, and can cause long-term physical, psychological, and social impacts on them.

Sri Lanka clearly needs to adopt a more holistic approach regarding sexual activity between two adolescents. We need to make significant changes in the current system to prevent misconduct and address the problems of ignorance and stigmatization of sexual conduct more effectively. It is crucial to share relevant information among the stakeholders who are called on to intervene and inform in these incidents, such as police, social workers, doctors, and health staff who attempt to assist and support adolescents and their families. Better informed contextual support could reduce the harm done by the blanket criminalization of some clauses in the penal code. Doctors and health workers need to enhance their knowledge and skills regarding how to identify, treat, and refer cases of sexual abuse, especially among young patients.

Medical and health personnel also need to be more comprehensively trained in situational sensitivity: on how to build trust and obtain relevant information from adolescent victims of sexual abuse, to provide them with a better quality of service. It is important to create a safe and supportive environment for survivors of sexual abuse, where they can disclose their experiences without fear of stigma, blame, or retaliation. Stakeholders should respect their confidentiality, autonomy, and choices, and provide them with information and options.

It is also important for survivors to access other services that can help them, such as therapy, legal assistance, and community support. As citizens, we all need to advocate for legal reform to combat sexual and gender-based violence, and to protect the rights of survivors. It is necessary to reform the laws that allow marital rape, that punish consensual sexual activity between adolescents, and that disproportionately focus on the victim’s character or sexual history in rape trials, misdirecting the legal system away from the misconduct of the perpetrators.

There is a significant gap in knowledge about sexual health among Sri Lankan people. People are traditionally brought up to often feel ashamed about sexual matters. We need to challenge outdated cultural myths in 2023, and empower teachers and educators to convey the message that sexuality is far more than the act of sex. Sexual feelings emerge in a context, which encompasses the biological and psychosocial aspects of each human. There are cultural and religious barriers to sex education and awareness in Sri Lanka, but the more we destigmatise sexuality, gender identity, and related topics, the more our society will become more comfortable and safe for everyone.

In the recent newspaper article about the number of rape cases in which the survivors ‘gave consent’, it is clear that when the police classify rape as rape with consent, they may actually mean rape with coercion. This might be a case of nuances being lost in translation. Coerced, when translated to Sinhala, means forced.

A person's free, informed, and willing consent to participate in a sexual act should serve as the foundation for defining rape and sexual assault in legal terms; this consent must be weighed against the context of the incident. This requires considering a wide range of exploitative scenarios, with a special focus on power, authority and control relationships, weaker position exploitation, and situations requiring trust, influence, and dependence in particular. It is important to realize that consent cannot be sincere, voluntary, or willing when coercive conditions are present, or when positions of vulnerability or dependency are taken advantage of, and that engaging in sexual activity is not an expression of one's free will or choice, especially for a child.

Sri Lankan culture tends to infantilise youth, and keep them ignorant of the dangers of the modern world, in a bid to protect them, especially with the onset of technology, and the widespread impact of social media. Unfortunately, this lack of preparation means that young people often engage in unsafe online relationships, unaware of the character or motives of the people they are connecting with.

What the children think is natural communication is strategic on the part of the other party, and spills over from online virtual reality into real life. The damage is then done physically and psychologically: the children’s ignorance makes them vulnerable. The predators know this. So the cycle continues. It can only be stopped when education empowers the children, and disempowers abusers.

Children get groomed by sexual predators. And unfortunately Sri Lankan children growing up often in the extended family context, in which they are brought up to trust older people, are vulnerable to this unlawful behaviour. Grooming is when the predator builds a friendship, trust, and emotional connection with a child or young person in order to manipulate, take advantage of, and abuse them. Grooming exposes children and teens to sexual abuse, exploitation, and trafficking.

Prosecuting child sexual assault is difficult for a number of reasons. Survivors could experience shame and remorse, be terrified of reprisals, or be hesitant to come forward. Children may also not be able to express their experiences or completely understand them. They may not even know that what happened to them was wrong. There may not be enough evidence of a kind which can be produced in court, because abuse frequently takes place in secret, making it challenging to obtain solid proof. Young victims may also find legal procedures intimidating, and the difficulty of prosecution might be aggravated by societal views against talking about such delicate subjects. A fearful child will often feel threatened by any questioning of details of a traumatic event, as each question will feel like a personal attack.

This is why when addressing child abuse, trauma-informed questioning and data collecting are essential. It entails using techniques that take into account the possible effects of trauma on a child's capacity for accurate detail recall and communication. The goal of this strategy is to minimize the possibility of recurrent trauma, while encouraging openness by creating a secure and encouraging environment. Data acquired via trauma-informed methods is more likely to be trustworthy and can help improve the child's support and intervention.

Unfortunately, in the context of contemporary Sri Lanka, children who are victims of sexual abuse and who are brave enough to report their experiences continue to be retraumatised, due to the lack of awareness and empathy from their school teachers and counsellors, who tell them to tolerate and show respect to adults, to stay silent due to the shame it brings on the family, and that the adult ‘cannot be wrong.’

From the support team of investigators, to the medical officers to police officers, focused training is urgently needed so that when incidents occur in which intervention is required, investigating officers are sensitive to the fear, suspicion and trauma the child is feeling and experiencing, and the mental upheaval the child is working through.

We forget that these young people have been betrayed by family who they trusted. How should they behave when members of their trusted family circle have exploited them and made them ‘the guilty party’? The advice from the internet is at variance with their family context.

In addition, we continue to find reasons to make them the ‘problem child’ in each of these stories, relieving ourselves of any accountability or blame so that we ourselves can sleep at night, feeling safe at home.

The first question most often heard in cases of child abuse is: 'Are you sure it’s really happening?' The victim is often disbelieved, as it is almost a default defense mechanism for adults to believe the child is lying. We would prefer to believe that, instead of being confronted by the picture the statistics portray: that we are living among so many monsters who could hurt and continue to betray an innocent child.

Victims of abuse are often further dismissed and belittled by officers within the system of justice, as this direct victim statement illustrates:

‘Throughout my time giving statements and going through the JMO, they always altered what I would say to suit the image they wanted to present of me.

When describing my abuse, I had to change my language and the way I described things because they want me to talk like I was an innocent kid. They didn't like the fact tht I would use the biological names for body parts. They would make me re-say it with the innuendos children use.

Even what I wore during the incident was questioned.

They kept asking if I was wearing pants.

Even though I kept saying it was a skirt.

They tried to pass off a lot of his behaviour as ‘fatherly’ even when it came to the point of him saying he wanted to have sex with me amd not my mum.

And through the process, I would be called a liar, and when I refused to answer things I'm not comfortable with, they would say "Yes, ofc, don't ask her, she doesn't know anything.” ‘

It is more and more obvious to those of us working in the sphere of GBV, and assisting survivors of domestic violence, and survivors of abuse, that most of the perpetrators are also victims who have normalised this behaviour through their life, and continue to ignore and normalise sexual abuse in their later lives.

To disrupt the generational damage caused by this dysfunctional dynamic, we must take action as a community to raise awareness to protect our children and young people. The print and digital newspapers with the highest circulation in the country, and all reporting journalists in the media, have an important role to play in this, to inform themselves and their readers in a responsible way, to prevent the dissemination of misinformation.

All Those Who Labor: Enduring Obstetric Violence In Sri Lanka

Photo courtesy of Western Hospital

Today is the International Day for the Elimination of Violence against Women

In Sri Lanka, motherhood appears to be publicly venerated: the country is called The Motherland, and mothers are universally regarded as a powerful force and influence in the lives of their children.

Yet when we look beyond the happy family pictures regularly presented to us at Sinhala and Tamil New Year with prosperity and abundance equated with fertility and progeny, we become aware of the negative experiences endured by women in Sri Lanka in the process of giving birth.

For many women, their experience of childbirth is unnecessarily traumatic and difficult, both physically and emotionally, due to the shortfall in sensitivity training and empathy on the part of the doctors and nursing staff involved in the Obstetric and Gynecological sectors of the health care industry. Gestational violence is a terrifyingly real experience for many women and it is one endured in silence because it is suppressed in cultural shame.

Many women educated in Sri Lanka are brought up in relative ignorance of the workings of their own bodies due to cultural stigma and repression of female awareness surrounding sexual matters and this lack of accurate information as part of sexual education leads to unwanted pregnancy and teenage or underage pregnancy. In addition to this knowledge gap, the lack of social progressiveness and openness in matters of romantic and sexual relationships offers a poor foundation for the stable creation of families.

It is ironic and sad that the very process of becoming part of the creative energy of life and the growth of expanding a family, which we believe should be joyful, instead becomes a violent and isolating experience for women. The personal experiences of women who undergo these ordeals require empathy on the part of the reader for the myths to be challenged and deconstructed.

A graphic example is that of Kanya D’Almeida, whose harrowing story was first publicly told in an episode of Shhh! Talk About Taboos, facilitated by Shanuki De Alwis, which was screened on YouTube. She describes her ordeal.

I birthed my son in a private hospital in Colombo, in a labor room that resembled a medical supply closet. I had a clear birth plan in place, which I’d discussed with my obstetrician months in advance of my due date: a vaginal delivery without medication, pain relief or surgical intervention, following – as much as possible – the physiological cues of my own body. That meant allowing for spontaneous labor and labor progression, spontaneous breaking of my waters, mobility during labor, pushing out my baby without the need for an episiotomy (cutting of the perineum) or forceps and spontaneous delivery of the placenta.

What transpired in the hospital was the opposite of what I’d planned. My labor was induced, for reasons I am now unsure were medically necessary. I was put on a Pitocin drip, a drug that stimulates artificial uterine contractions. I was subjected to a non-consensual vaginal exam by a male doctor. And I ended up with an epidural, a catheter, a fetal monitoring machine, an episiotomy, an attempted forceps delivery and finally a vacuum extraction of my son. I missed the golden hour – he was taken away from me at birth. I did not get to deliver my placenta or see it as I’d requested. And after my doctor had stitched me up, I was left alone in the labor room shivering uncontrollably, unable to walk, and feeling like I’d just barely survived a disaster.

At no point during this ordeal did I get any emotional support from the so-called care providers around me. Besides that one nurse, whose shift ended halfway through my 24-hour labor, no one took the time to answer my questions or to heed my concerns. Not one person spoke to me with kindness or respect. At every stage, I was instructed to wait, to submit and to comply to the doctor’s orders or the hospital’s regulations. I – the laboring person – became merely a vessel, someone whose body was not only incapable of this task but was actually standing in the way of the birth. The best thing I could do was lie still, make as little noise as possible and allow a higher authority to do the job for me.

I had imagined my son’s birth to be a sacred passage from the world of my womb into the world of my arms. What it ended up being was a violent extraction. Still, four years later, my body grows cold when I remember it.

There is a language for this – for the feeling that something awful was done to you, for a lingering suspicion that you were abused or molested in some way. It’s called obstetric violence and it is considered to be the most under-reported, under-studied, misunderstood forms of gender-based violence in the world today. It is defined as verbal, emotional, physical, medical or sexual abuse at the hands of a care provider during labor and delivery. That enormous range of possibility includes things such as being subjected to medical procedures without consent, being shouted at or hit, being restrained, being denied a companion and being sexually assaulted.

In 2018 the BMC medical journal published a paper entitled When Helpers Hurt, the only study of its kind to document mothers’ and midwives’ stories of obstetric violence in government hospitals in Colombo. Throughout extensive interviews, the researchers uncovered accounts of laboring women being subjected to racial slurs, physical violence, verbal abuse and even sexual misconduct on the wards of public health institutions. The study concluded that while Sri Lanka has a robust maternal health service, including a cadre of Public Health Midwives (PHMs) who provide crucial pre- and postnatal support, the quality of care during labor and delivery needs much improvement especially when it comes to the ethics of consent, respect, autonomy and dignity in the obstetric space.

But these changes won’t come easily. Part of the reason obstetric violence is sometimes referred to as a “silent epidemic” is because pregnancy and childbirth have become so routinely medicalized that everyone involved, from doctors to laboring women, tend to pathologize the process. Women in labor are referred to as “patients”, a misnomer that pushes the act of birth from a natural, physiological event into the realm of sickness, something that requires an obstetrician to resolve, or “cure”. And because we are so unaware of our rights in medical settings, it is easy for women to be abused under the guise of “standard” or so-called mandatory practices such as repeated cervical checks, episiotomies or artificial rupturing of the membranes (ARM), all of which are invasive procedures that require consent.

As occurs in many areas of healthcare around the world, what the institutions fail to provide patients in their care, individuals operating in a more informal and community based way can supply. When going forward into this potentially heart breaking pro-creative terrain, it is best to equip ourselves not with myths and illusions but with practical realities: proactive self-support and due diligence about what services are available and a combination of private and community based care will help bring about a better outcome for birthing mothers.

Gooneratne Memorial Library – A Legacy of Love, Learning, and Literature

Our husband and father, Brendon Gooneratne, passed away in 2021. He had had a fall on June 12th and was recovering in a hospital close to home, with excellent care and medical attention. We had been upcountry for 18 months, due to the ongoing pandemic situation. Unvaccinated as yet, we felt my parents would be safest out of the population density and congestion of Colombo.

Since March 2020, our family had a wonderful experience of lockdown, with the news on the television or via the internet being the only intrusion. I had not spent so much time with the family for years, due to work commitments in Australia and in Sri Lanka.

It was fabulous: sitting on the verandah in the mornings and evenings, growing the herb garden so that the pasta sauces he loved would have fresh basil and oregano in them, sourcing home-baked bread rolls from Colombo to have with our soup, chatting about books we loved, taking out board games, watching old movies, listening to music from the 1950s, remembering past travels, discussing the crazed antics of Donald Trump, sighting Lotan sunbirds in the garden via the iridescent flash of their wings.

These days were blessed. Radiant sunrises and soft twilights and dusks. The year turning towards summer. At the start of lockdown, I was missing travelling and the adventures of traversing physical landscapes in the world. A year and a half into lockdown, I set these adventures and my desires for them aside, to a point somewhere in the future. Human beings are adaptable and resilient. That’s why we have survived so well, as a species.

My father recovered well from the surgery, and we were looking forward to him coming home to us. Unfortunately, an infection developed in his lungs late in the second week of June, and quickly spread systemically, so fast that it could not be stopped.

On Father’s Day, 2021, we saw him in life for the last time. We spoke to him, said everything we wanted to say, and held his hands.

He was a great friend to all of us and a tremendous encourager in the challenges of life. Once, at a terrible time in my own life, I felt like giving up after a series of back-to-back calamities immediately following the loss of someone I dearly loved. My Father did not tell me to get over it or count my blessings. He said, ‘It’s true that you have had a lot to contend with lately. But you know, you haven’t yet seen the range of experiences life offers us all. Life brings us a wealth of opportunities. Don’t make a decision on insufficient information. Life goes in cycles, and this period will pass and good will come. Hold on, and keep going, if you can. We will give you all our support. It’s worth it, believe me.’

As a family, we have a million memories of things we did together, with concerts and films, jungle trips and whale watching. The early morning rounds to watch animals, drinking hot tea made with condensed milk before sunrise, star gazing and the smell of kerosene lamps at night, the sunrises on the East Coast, the visiting of caves and ancient sites, the viewing of the fireworks on my birthday. The slightly clumsy parcel wrapping of our birthday gifts, and the huge cards to express his big love.

Brendon Gooneratne was interested in so many things that he was fascinating to talk to. For the last 18 months in lockdown, we had a wonderful companion to share movies music and political discussions. We enjoyed cooking him some of his favourite foods, from his student days in England. He loved Italy, and Italian cuisine, and was very sad when the kind and genial proprietor of Dolce Italia, Colombo, passed away recently.

He was a physician, a writer of several books, a renowned cricketer as a young man, and a wildlife and conservation activist. He wrote his personal memoirs in 2016, and this book, titled ‘The Good, The Bad and The Different’, details some of the interesting life experiences he had: his extensive travels, the personal lessons learned in his professional life, his enthusiasm for history, archaeology and the natural world, the lively opinions he had of the people he encountered.

Most people live a life defined by their professional vocation. Indeed, life is such that there is little time for us to actively pursue or engage in anything other than practise the profession in which we operate. But my Father was able to engage in multiple spheres of professional activity and follow and fulfil a number of interests throughout his life.

When Brendon Gooneratne passed away at the age of 83, he left behind a treasure trove of books and journals that had been his lifelong companions. His journey as a book collector began during his school days in Colombo, and he continued to nurture this passion throughout his remarkable life. His love for reading was a legacy he shared with his wife and both of his children and over the years, we, too, developed our own personal libraries.

Now, we, his widow and daughter, are embarking on an endeavour in his memory – the creation of the Gooneratne Memorial Library (GML) in Haputale, Sri Lanka. This library brings together the literary treasures of four individuals: Dr Gooneratne himself, the academic library of Professor Yasmine Gooneratne, rich with works of Commonwealth Literature, the collection of myths and legends and classic fantasy and science fiction of our late son/brother Channa Gooneratne, and the 18th-century satiric prose and extensive modern poetry collection of our daughter/sister, Dr Devika Gooneratne. Situated within the serene surroundings of our family’s hill country home, the GML is a tribute to our family’s enduring love for books.

Our family has had the privilege of living and travelling in various parts of the world, which is reflected in the GML’s special collections. These collections include materials from India, Australia, and Britain, in addition to a wealth of resources related to Sri Lanka’s history, wildlife, cricket, and athletics, all of which held a special place in Dr Brendon Gooneratne’s heart. While he was not a creative writer himself, he deeply appreciated and enjoyed the imaginative works of others, both contemporary and classic.

The GML is not merely a library but a sanctuary for reading and research. Our doors are open by appointment to all who seek knowledge, and we provide a serene and conducive environment for quiet reading and intellectual exploration. The library does not lend books but offers reading access to them free of charge to readers, students and scholars. It has been established primarily for the people of the Uva District, to complement the resources provided by the district’s schools and universities.

Located within what was once a tea plantation, the GML is surrounded by manicured lawns and a cultivated garden. Its windows reveal wonderful views of Sri Lanka’s stunning mountain landscapes. The trees surrounding the estate are home to diverse wildlife, from colourful birds to playful monkeys. The entire area is a haven for naturalists.

The Gooneratne Memorial Library is a testament to our family’s enduring love for literature and a tribute to the patriarch of our family and his remarkable life. It stands as a place of knowledge, reflection, and appreciation for the world of books, open to all who seek the joys of reading and the wonders of exploration of the world in which we live.

The Severing Of The Social Contract

This weekend, it was three weeks since the commencement of the atrocities in Gaza. In these days, which are also traditionally the buildup to some of the holiest days of the year in Jewish, Christian and Hindu faiths, we are being told about and shown some horrifying video footage of human suffering and cruelty inflicted on vulnerable people.

In Sri Lanka, we are geographically removed from the current theatre of war. But anxiety is high that this conflict, if not contained, will explode outwards to encompass the entire world. Do we watch, while schoolyard bullies duke it out? Like every viewer of a thriller action movie which contains scenes of extreme violence asks themselves, who do we identify with, in the scenes we see on the screen?

How is World War 3, which appears to have started, different from the previous two? For a start, in 2023, citizens with the aid of personalized technology have the power to document and broadcast and interview people at the frontlines without the intervention of mainstream media.

We have mobile phones, WhatsApp, Instagram, Tik Tok, and Facebook, all with video and audio capability. Until the governments shut down the internet, as they did in Gaza over the weekend, people could tell their stories and show the world outside what their situation was like, and generate insight and empathy.

To see a person in the rubble of their home, injured and bereaved, the life they had built in shards and ribbons, is a powerful contrast to the self-justifying framing narrative of perpetrators of violence against them, calling them ‘animals’ and not human beings. Every human being wants to live: to survive and if possible thrive, and flourish. We can all recognise the devastation of other human beings and the destruction of their dreams and hopes when we see it.

The problem with viewing events via digital media today is the prevalence of falsification: are we sure that what we are seeing is actually real, or is it augmented via technology, and photo shopped, in some way? Is it happening in real time, to real people? Or is it old footage from a couple of years ago, or footage taken from another context? Is reality being misrepresented to us? Not in error, but deliberately, in order to spur us into rage, or an emotional state in which we are easy to herd? Are our real emotions being cynically manipulated, by the use of triggering images and incendiary statements which are then subsequently ‘walked back’ by news commentators? Where do our feelings come from? Where do they land?

What on earth is ‘proportionate response’ to mass murder? How is it defined? How is it measured? How is it being justified?

The second major difference in this conflict is that the citizens of many countries are openly expressing their disagreement with the policies and actions of their own governments. 14 countries voted to continue the conflict, and 120 countries (Sri Lanka amongst them) against. Of the 14 countries whose leaders want to pursue genocidal aggression, although it is described by its perpetrators and apologists as ‘self defence’, huge rallies of citizens can be seen forming in their capital cities, protesting that the ordinary citizens caught in this conflict have human rights which must be recognised and protected.

 
As the countries in which these protests are forming call themselves ‘Democratic’, to shoot down these protestors, to silence or gag or otherwise interfere with their civil rights would expose them as hypocrites.

Thirdly, it is important to note that social media is a huge factor in forming public opinion. What began 15 years ago supposedly to enable the creation of community through technology, to enable communication and the dissemination of information, is now exposed as operating in opposition to those ideals through its frequent misuse.

Misinformation is deliberately put forward through mainstream media channels, and amplified intensely by social media commentary and the way it has been constructed to inflame and weaponise human reaction. It is far easier to react than to think and evaluate, and we have as a species begun some time ago to respond to this coercive manipulation: to offer ourselves up to be tracked and formed into voting blocs, via our viewing preferences, and our likes and shares.

Critical thinking is not taught in schools, colleges and universities, and as it is not possible for us to be physically present at all events in the world, we rely on the media reporters and commentators to represent the events to us, as they occur. Bias and prejudice have tainted these representations, and hardly any media platform is truly objective in its presentation of world events. Selection of content and exclusion of content and deliberate diminishing of some aspects and heightening of others, omission and distortion of facts, and conflation of unrelated events, and false/forced analogies and equivalencies have all eroded our direct relationship with the reality of the world in which we live.

We are living in a state of perpetual cognitive dissonance which is volatile, distressing and uncomfortable. We increasingly see events done in our name to which we have not given our consent, and which we feel powerless to stop. And this feeling of powerlessness leads to disengagement and passive resignation. It is dangerous, to be relegated to the status of a sightseer in the world today.

Governments who act in brazen dismissal and arrogant contempt of the wishes of the citizens who elected them and still call themselves ‘Democratic’ are clearly exploiting the theory of the Social Contract on which democratic governance is based. They seem to treat the voting citizens as a group of people to be lied to, flattered with false promises at times of election, and blatantly ignored between elections, once the numbers of votes have delivered the mandate they need to rule.

It is notable that countries who loudly call themselves ‘beacons of democracy’ and valorise people’s rights in theory are the ones who most aggressively violate people’s rights if they conflict with their own pursuit of power. It is not enough to ask leaders of countries like this to recognise the rights of their voting citizens, and to actually represent their true beliefs honestly and accurately.

It’s a contract. To ensure that democratic systems operate well, the citizens of these countries must educate themselves, using the resources available to them, and look at the difference between the actions of their leaders and the words on the slogan boards and the promotional advertisements. We must look for our information beyond the comments threads on social media.

Only then can the contract be made more functional. Effort is required. To see what is happening around us, past the spin and below the surface, to think and to act accordingly. What we think is what informs our actions. It is a form of protest. It can help to save the world.

So Out Of Touch

Photo courtesy of Sky Sports

The recent incident after the final of the Women’s World Cup Football event highlighted some issues that are not likely to be glossed over or erased. The behaviour of Luis Rubiales, President of The Royal Spanish Football Federation, in forcefully grabbing a member of the winning team, Jenni Hermoso, and kissing her on the mouth without her consent in the glare of the global television audience ensures that his action was seen and commented on by millions of spectators.

Hermoso is on public record as saying she did not give her consent to this and that she has been pressured behind the scenes to back down; her defiance, supported by her team members, has ensured that the issue of consent is in primary focus. But underlying it in this public forum is the entitlement men feel to interrupt, interject, overshadow and hijack the limelight from talented and dedicated women and tainting their rightful pleasure in their achievement.

Australian media commentator Jessie Stephens has pointed out that the behaviour of Rubiales was a demonstration of power and that this assertion of his presence at the expense of the women who are being recognised in their industry and by their global fans is felt as “undermining and mortifying” and a “distraction” from what should have been the focus of the event. Annabel Crabb commented that “The women of the World Cup displayed nothing but merit. Extraordinary feats of skill. Good behaviour on and off the pitch. All for about a quarter of the pot available to the men in Qatar last year. And yet, they were overshadowed again and again by second rate blokes.”

The second class status accorded to women in patriarchal societies is very evident in Sri Lanka. But women who have achieved success and recognition in the country are not known to speak out against unwarranted acts of male assertion. They do not want to be labelled as “difficult” or “making people uncomfortable”. People pleasing is part of the social acceptance that women sign up for at birth in South Asian countries: to smile and be continuously understanding, gracious, self effacing and forgiving while men throw tantrums all around them.

Such concessions to substandard male behaviour have of course only consolidated its acceptability and normalised the occurrence of it, both in terms of micro aggressive behaviour, such as men continually interrupting and talking over women in a corporate or academic discussion session or taking up too much time on a panel and leaving no space for the women present to show their capability and expertise.

Many of the notably few women who are in positions of authority and leadership in both the public and private sectors in the country are also not trailblazing on a daily basis on behalf of the rights of women. They have often reached their high positions by adopting male codes of behaviour and by sinking their differences or grievances without trace and burying hatchets rather than contesting harassment or belittlement and by playing by these rules are publicly held up as examples of their organisation’s progressiveness.

The Women’s World Cup incident is being called a significant part of Spain’s #MeToo movement and as such is being seen as evidence that progress and evolution are needed in the country’s traditional attitudes towards the gender roles. The winning teams were all playing a game which is seen as traditionally masculine and the action of grabbing a winning athlete and kissing her on the mouth is being seen as a way of putting women back in their place.

And what was their place? Not standing triumphant on a podium but being manhandled and pushed aside, effectively diminished at what should have been a moment of triumph and pride.

Taylor Swift, the phenomenal young American musical artist, was in the middle of her acceptance speech at the VMA ceremony in 2009 when Kanye West pushed himself onto the stage and literally took the microphone from her to dramatically state: “I’mma let you finish, but Beyoncé had one of the greatest videos of all time”. Beyoncé herself was visibly shocked by his words and actions and he clearly was not authorised to speak for her. So he was belittling both women at the same time, whatever he may have thought he was doing on that stage. Beyoncé later on invited Taylor Swift on stage during her own speech to accept the acclaim which was denied to her by Kanye West’s rudeness and offensive entitlement.

Kanye later released a song “Famous” in which he claimed that he “would still have sex with Taylor Swift” and that his actions had made “that bitch famous”.

We could see this kind of behaviour as the last gasps of a dying and dreadful culture. And the responses of both Swift and Hermoso have added a great deal of value to the awareness of the unacceptability of such conduct. Swift is now dominating the popular music culture on a record breaking tour and her words are no longer being interrupted but listened to in interviews and documentaries. In one of these interviews, she revealed that on that night of the VMAs, it was hard to hear on stage and in the fury of the moment, and when she heard the booing coming from the crowd she had thought they were booing her, not Kanye. As these are awards voted for by the public, she was devastated at a moment that should have been a career highlight for her.

On another occasion, Taylor Swift had been standing for a photograph at another awards night when a music executive put his hand under her dress and groped her body. She filed charges against him, with statements of eye witnesses and photographic evidence, and successfully sued him for harassment and sexually inappropriate behaviour.

Swift is now in her thirties and she started writing songs and recording in the music industry when she was 14. She also recently turned the tables on Scooter Braun, who had sold the masters of her early music when the contract she had signed was fulfilled, selling her songs, among that of other artists signed to that company, for $300 million, thus denying her control over her own work.

Swift re-recorded her own albums and called them Taylor’s Version and took back control of her music. It was a great decision both in terms of business and branding but also personally as an artist; she could revisit the songs on the records she had made on her journey as a singer-songwriter and understand herself in that former state and enrich her delivery of them in the present day. Swift does not need a record company or music executives as she deals directly with her fan base, which is so large that it numbers hundreds of millions of fans all across the world, and is a voting bloc in the upcoming US election.

Similar leverage is being exerted by the Women’s Football team in Spain, who are refusing to participate in any further events until Rubiales resigns. He has gained points in the short term amongst the masculinity warrior movement for defiantly refusing to resign but has been suspended by FIFA. He is not apologetic. Defiance, after all, is a sign of strength in masculine culture and apologising is seen as weakness. Unapologetic is regarded as admirable but it is also problematic.

Change in behavioural codes in such a public sport as World Cup Football, which has a devoted fan base and is seen by many as almost a religion to its devotees, will be publicly significant. What happened this year was a public affront.

In Sri Lanka, it will probably take longer to raise the standards of acceptable conduct by men in positions of authority. And it will happen not so much on a public podium but in the everyday processes of professional life, in the various industries in which skilled and dedicated women are now taking a more prominent and visible part.