Anne Ranasinghe: In Memoriam

This interview was commissioned by New Ceylon Writing and published in Roar.lk and The Sunday Island in two parts.
Editor’s note: Sri Lanka’s English literary circles have lost a great icon in the passing away of poet and writer, Anne Ranasinghe. In commemorating her life and works, Roar publishes below what is believed to be the last interview Ranasinghe gave prior to her demise this weekend. The interview has been published in its entirety, with the permission of the writer/interviewer, Devika Brendon. It is also due to be published (with added editorial commentary) in New Ceylon Writing, Volume 6, shortly.

Writer Anne Ranasinghe, who passed away on Saturday, December 17, 2016, at her home in Colombo, was born in Germany in 1925 and was the only survivor of her immediate family line, whose members were all killed in the Nazi death camps in WW2. She finished her education in England, married a Sri Lankan Professor of Medicine, Dr. Ranasinghe, and then lived in Sri Lanka for 67 years. She was one of the first poets to have her work published in the first edition of New Ceylon Writing in 1970, when she was then an unknown author, as she notes in the following interview. She has had a fruitful and productive literary life, publishing twenty volumes of poetry, and short stories, including And A Sun That Sucks The Earth To Dry, Plead Mercy, At What Dark Point, Who Can Guess The Moment? and Snow, culminating in her last collection, Four Things, published in 2016, in connection with the Cross of The Order Of Merit Of The Federal Republic of Germany, bestowed on her in 2015 by the German Government, in recognition of her lifetime of creative endeavour and achievement. Her poems At What Dark Point and Plead Mercy have been studied by students in the local English syllabus for several years. Anne Ranasinghe was the co-founder of The English Writers’ Co-operative (known familiarly as ‘the EWC’), many of whose members have been awarded prizes over the past two decades for their literary works. She was a committed and dedicated writer, who practised the art of creative writing until she perfected it, with a determination and a true love for literature which she speaks of directly in this interview.

“Working on a poem is one of the great privileges of life” – Anne Ranasinghe. Image courtesy colombogazette.com

In speaking of literature and life, I would like to begin, if I may, with your personal view of the nature of literature: in particular, your approach to poetry and story-telling, in both of which genres your achievement is a considerable one. Although it does not presume to teach ‘creative writing’, New Ceylon Writing welcomes the opportunity to hear about the experience of a practitioner such as yourself.

Literature deals essentially with the life of man, his reaction to his environment, and the forces and motives that shape human conduct. From the beginning of the First World War in 1914 to the end of the Second World War in 1945 more than seventy million people have died violently or have been exterminated. There is no way that we can ignore this fact, the enormity of it, or that it signifies a horrifying new dimension to the possibility of human evil. An awareness of the unpredictability of human conduct should perhaps infuse our writing with a sense of urgency to counter the possibility of ever-increasing darkness. Even here, on the other side of the world from Hitler’s Europe, we have had our own experiences to lend substance to these fears.

For me, it is not possible to concentrate entirely on poetry. Poetry is – how shall I put it? – the rare champagne. To write poetry there must be an experience so intensely felt as to exclude all other forms of writing: love or anger, fear or remembrance, and above all the perception of great beauty create a moment that wakens, or demands, a poem. There is then a period of gestation, a distillation of the experience, and out of this grows the first words of the poem. It is a momentary vision, a crystallisation which compels you to follow, sometimes through innumerable twists and turns, rarely straight on; for an hour, or two, or three – and sometimes over a period of months, even years. Right to the end of the poem.

Working on a poem is one of the great privileges of life, and I find it incredible that there are poets who believe a first draft is also a final draft, and must not be touched. That the first inspiration is holy. Either they are much better poets than I am or they are plain lazy and don’t like the tremendous effort that chiselling a poem into shape entails.

As for short stories, no one will deny that the first and foremost function of the short story is to tell a story for the sake of the story. Somerset Maugham caustically remarked that there are some among the intelligentsia who regard pure story-telling as a debased form of art, and he stipulates that extraneous knowledge and information should be used cautiously lest the story be swamped by the facts. Structurally a short story should have a beginning, a middle and an end; and, like a poem, it should have such concentration of mood and singlemindedness of purpose that no digression or deviation is permitted. There is a framework, and all action, all detail should serve to consolidate this framework, with no loose ends or spillage. Everything must add to the oneness and completeness of the story. It is this limitation that creates the very essence of it, distinguishing it from the novel.

The short story as we know it today is supposed to conform to certain principles, some of which I have just mentioned. Additionally, it should be of a certain length, and concern itself with but a single anecdote, episode or situation. The number of characters introduced should be limited. In actual fact, I doubt very much whether a writer planning a short story gives too much thought to these mechanics. There is a story to be told – and of course, ultimate success depends on the reader/audience, who have their own expectations: they want to be entertained or thrilled, shocked or made curious, or perhaps emotionally involved.

I write a short story out of a compulsion more or less similar to what makes me write a poem, but for me, a short story is much harder to write, and takes a great deal of time. I spend a great deal of time on polishing and re-polishing. In order to get started, I have to live my story for some time, I carry it around with me, and its full structure – beginning, middle and end – is more or less worked out in my head before I start writing. All my stories have as their core something that really happened, something that stirred me or upset me, or goaded me into comment, The problem is too large to be worked out in a poem; so I use the short story.

You have described yourself as “extraordinarily lucky”; and stated that although you “fell a number of times, you always landed on your feet”. These are optimistic statements, and express an extremely resilient attitude to life. How important is resilience in the living of life, especially of creative life? And how significant is optimism, as a quality that a creative writer should develop?

I didn’t actually say that, although I did ‘fall’ a number of times, and invariably ‘landed on my feet’. It was my ‘Mother-Aunt’ who made that statement! ‘Mother-Aunt’ in this context means ‘being in loco parentis’; as a thirteen-year-old, alone in England, I became her responsibility and her husband’s. After one week of getting ‘to know’ one another, I was speedily dispatched from their nice home in London to my school in Dorset. Naturally, there were many differences of opinion over a period of four years. I won my greatest victory when, after leaving school, my ‘Mother-Aunt’ apprenticed me as a ‘Junior Probationer’ at a beautiful home for blind babies for two years, to earn my living. My job consisted of potting the children after each meal. While I loved the kids and the place, at just seventeen I considered this a ‘waste of my time’. I began secretly to apply elsewhere, and landed a two-year training at the Moorfields Eye Hospital.¹

I had hoped to study medicine, and although I did very well in the Oxford Matric, I could not win a scholarship as I was still a German citizen. I had no money. My uncle, who was a Doctor of Chemistry, maintained that ‘in any case, women always get married’, and was not prepared to help.

This was 1942, and World War II was in full swing. Moorfields (at age seventeen or eighteen) was a great adventure. I was in London, and at the beginning of ‘growing up’ – in sometimes very dangerous situations. We were hit at the Hospital by a ‘Doodle Bug’: these were aeroplanes without pilots, controlled – we were informed by German soldiers at the French border. When they stopped the engine, or the machine ran out of fuel, the Doodle Bug dropped to the ground, causing a massive explosion.

You ask whether optimism is a quality a creative writer ‘should develop’. How? To become ‘optimistic’, you need opportunity. Sometimes you create your own opportunity, and then ‘fall on your feet’. Sometimes there is just no opportunity. The worst situation in which to be is when you have created an opportunity, and then somehow missed out on it.

Finally – creative writing may come partially from many things: talent, a particular home environment, encouragement, extensive reading, readiness to see the world from your own point of view, from some or all of these. But it is not just a gift: you have to work it out, and cherish it, and at all times to be faithful and convinced by your own thinking!

In response to an honour bestowed on you in 2015, the Cross of the Order of Merit of the Federal Republic of Germany, you have said that you “will treasure it for what it signifies”. Since you have also said “I was born in Germany, was saved by England, and lived a very fulfilled adult life in Sri Lanka”, and have described yourself as “belonging to all three”, what does this award ‘signify’ to you?

With regard to the medal I was given by the President and people of Germany, my statement of acceptance was phrased in this manner: “I will treasure it for what it signifies and will continue to ponder my eligibility”. I am sure everyone who has read me over the years would fully understand the conflict.

But I regret the feelings involved by the many German contributors, and after ‘pondering’ the issue, I made my decision. It doesn’t mean the past is erased or forgotten: on the contrary, I live with it day by day. But I have found a means of compromising.

With regard to my statement that “I was born in Germany, was saved by England, and lived a very fulfilled adult life in Sri Lanka: I belong to all three”, that is very true. I was born in Germany, brought up in the seeming security of an established tradition of obedience, affection, reasonable independence, encouragement (especially to study), and exposure to all the available Arts till I was thirteen years old.

I have (somewhat ineptly) translated Federico Fellini, who has encapsulated my situation exactly:

Nobody may forget his roots,

They are the foundation for our whole life.

Where England is concerned: coming from the incredibly terrifying experiences of Germany, and although I was on my own, the atmosphere and daily life were unbelievably safe, the people friendly and helpful, the school fantastic. I spoke very little English, but was carefully taught by a group of devoted teachers. The freedom to use all the facilities available, the beautiful country open to visits without restriction, and the access to the Arts. Until the war curbed that way of living. But even during the worst days of the war, I was never made to feel an enemy, but joined in all defensive activities.

As for Sri Lanka: I have lived here now for sixty-seven years. I am sure I don’t need to explain that – although no one ever forgets that I am a ‘foreigner’ – I have been accepted, nurtured, and encouraged. I am deeply grateful to ‘belong’ as far as it is possible.

The cover of Four Things, Anne Ranasinghe’s last book. Image courtesy dailynews.lk

You have described this book of your selected works, Four Things, as ‘a rather unconventional book’. Could you please explain what you mean?

When Dr. Jürgen Morhard, Ambassador of the Federal Republic of Germany, first offered to sponsor a book of my selected poems, I was really delighted. My friends had been encouraging me, but I was reluctant – at my age – not having thought it through. But then, the temptation was too great, and I accepted.

However, when in January this year I had to start on it in order to complete the book before Dr Morhard had to leave Sri Lanka, I began to panic: I just hadn’t a clue what to use, how to choose, how big, and most important, to make it reader-attractive. Priyanthi, my printer, and I have no other help. Also, Dr. Morhard wanted a German section included.

I suddenly had an idea: a priest living not far from my father’s village, Hr. Pfr. Paul Gerhard Lehman, had earlier used my poetry for a small German journal, to write my family story. With his permission, I used his 60-page essay as my ‘Einleitung’ or Introduction. He talked to some journalists in the area – as a result, one of them sent me a set of photographs for a calendar, and I was allowed to choose a view from a balloon of my father’s village. A picture arrived of myself many years ago, and then I remembered all the translated poems – mine into German – and I realised I had enough material. I received some more beautiful and relevant pictures, divided the whole collection into relevant sections, and divided them by content.

Then I decided to use attractive book covers (of my 20) to separate them. It became more and more complicated. Having gathered by then 350-odd pages, I suddenly noticed there was no thought of a cover. Major problem. How to find a meaningful, attractive (and unique) design?

As I mentioned in Four Things, I was visited by a friend with his young daughter. She brought me a small gift – a ceramic dish with what I thought an unusual design. With some manipulation, it became a suitable back-cover. The girl is delighted – she is twelve years old! – and of course features in ‘the Acknowledgment’ page of the book.

When we had put together the whole ‘unconventional’ material, a letter arrived from a children’s school in Germany. We thought it so delightful that we added it to the very last page of the book, to leave a reader relaxed and charmed, as we were.

Your book positions the works in German as well as in English, and the format shows your ability to think and write poetically in both languages. Do you prefer one language to another when dealing with specific subjects?

This question really deals with the ability to translate, the art of translation. In 2002 I gave a talk at the British Council in Colombo, some parts of which may be appropriate to this subject. The title of the talk was ‘Moonlight stuffed with Straw’, a reference to an observation made by Heinrich Heine, the 19th-century German poet, that his own German poems, when translated into French, were like ‘moonlight stuffed with straw’. Vladimir Nabokov, nearer our own time, expressed his opinion in the poem On translating Eugene Onegin:²

What is translation? On a platter

A poet’s pale and glaring head,

A parrot’s shriek, a monkey’s chatter

And profanation of the dead.

There is, however, another approach, less traditional, which allows the focus to shift, at least partially, from the author to the translator and gives him/her a chance to be both daring and original. It shifts from strict literalism in translation to one that does experiment and tamper with usage to challenge and stretch language with the same vitality that the original possessed, and maybe create a greater vitality born of new linguistic and metaphorical contrasts. Especially in a multilingual context, translation can not only negotiate between languages, but could come to occupy literary space in its own right.³

Translation can be seen as a living spark between past and present, and between cultures. When you translate a poem you immerse yourself in another language, or at least you try to, and then you begin to realise the limitations of your native tongue – or maybe the tongue of your usage if you happen to have lost your mother tongue by living in exile or as a refugee, which of course has happened all too frequently in the course of the political upheavals of the last century.

But if you are really into translation, it is a very exciting adventure, and an enormously stimulating challenge. It strains your resources to the limit, making you aware of what you lack in facility and power of expression. Ultimately, it brings you face to face with the genius and structure of the original, and instills in you an urgent desire to do justice to it.

I have attempted translations from the German both of prose and poetry. One poem I have translated into English is Herbsttag, by Rainer Maria Rilke:

Herbsttag

Herr: es ist Zeit. Der Sommer was sehr groß.

Leg deinen Schatten auf die Sonnenuhren,

und auf den Fluren Laß die Winde los.

Befiehl den letzten Früchten voll zu sein;

gibe ihnen noch zwei südlichere Tage,

dränge sie zur Süße in den schweren Wein.

Wer jetzt kein Haus hat, baut sich keines mehr.

Wer jetzt allein ist, wird es lange bleiben

wird wachen, lesen, lange Briefe schreiben

und wird in den Alleen hin und her

unruhig wandem, wenn die Blätter treiben

Day In Autumn (Translation by Anne Ranasinghe)

Lord, it is time. The summer bore high yield.

Now cast your shadow on the sundial,

Release the winds across forest and field.

Command the last unripened grapes upon the vine

to swell, grant them of southern warmth a few more days,

urge them towards fulfillment, and then grace

with a sweet richness the heavy purple wine.

Whoever has no house now will not ever build.

Whoever is alone now will remain alone,

wake through the night, and write long letters filled

with sadness; and wander through the town

restlessly when autumn’s leaves are blown.

“Say what you will of its inadequacy,” wrote Goethe in 1827 to Carlyle. “Translation remains one of the most important and valuable concerns in world affairs.” And George Steiner added, “Without it we would live in a condition of silence.”

Dr. Jürgen Morhard [the German Ambassador to Sri Lanka] comments on your ability to ‘find a new home in words’. Could you speak to this concept?

I am not at all sure what he means by that; but it is true that once you become involved in writing a poem or a short story, you become part of it, in the sense that your surroundings disappear and you ‘live what you write’. I have also been told that the reader becomes absorbed as if he or she were participating – but I am sure that probably happens to other ‘creative’ writers.

In this context, however, I would like to refer to the poem “The Song has died from the Lips of the King” (in German, translated by Pfr. Paul Gerhard Lehman – page xliii – liii – Four Things – Introduction. In English page 60 – 63, Four Things.)

In November 1983 I returned to Essen and saw the remains of the beautiful Synagogue. Built in 1913, and considered the most magnificent in Germany, the whole interior was destroyed by fire in the “Reichskristallnacht”. The outer structure remained.

During the Hitler period Jews were totally isolated, and especially for us children the Synagogue became, before its destruction, the only place where we could meet and lead some kind of social life, exercise, study jointly, listen to music and so on.

So I decided to write a poem, reproducing in detail the beauty and significance of the Synagogue as far as I could, with the help of a book that my mother had sent earlier to England. It is a treasure, and I still have it.

Pfr. Paul Lehman has done a fantastic work in translating that poem, written in English, in his Introduction to Four Things (see pp. 60 – 63). But more than that: I have used 80-odd Biblical references which explain the original contents; and Pfr. Lehman has identified, numbered, and recorded each one in his German version. Unfortunately, I had no time to add this to the English version, but items can easily be identified.

Anne Ranasinghe (left) at her home in Colombo. Image courtesy Daphne Charles (right).

Dr. Morhard commends you for ‘using your personal stories and the lessons learned from the past’, noting that you have ‘helped to reconcile the past with the present’, and that you have taught the younger generations that we should not allow a repeat of history’s great tragedies’. How and when did you realize the nature of the profound legacy your creative gifts could offer us? Could you also comment on the state of the world today, from your perspective? Do you think the role of creative writers and thinkers has become even more crucial than it was before?

When I asked some children in a school in Essen what they knew about Hitler, they were enthusiastic about the motorways he had built, and said that he had eliminated unemployment. Their fathers had told them that Germany was a better place under Hitler. When (during the making of a film about my writing) a Gallup poll questioned people in Essen at random as to what had happened to their erstwhile Jewish fellow citizens and taped their answers, some said they did not know. Others said the Jews had “gone away”, but they didn’t know where. And some laughed and said most of them had been gassed and went up in smoke. I have the tape. It is not an invented story. Even the laugh.

Since the reunification of East and West Germany there has been an upsurge of a vicious neo-Nazism and anti-Semitism that is more than reminiscent of the Hitler period, but covers a wider clientèle: apart from Jews, first the Turks and now all foreign and especially dark-skinned and dark-haired immigrants. I have mainly written ‘At What Dark Point’ for Sri Lanka, because readers here are still largely ignorant of the wider ramifications of the Nazi horror, and the bestialities that are possible. I think they should know. Knowledge is to some extent protection. In 2004, ‘At What Dark Point’ was translated into Sinhala.

George Steiner raised the question: How is it possible that the tortures and murders could be committed at Treblinka or Dachau at the same time as people in New York were making love or going to see a film? That problem is as relevant today for those of us who were not there (or are not there), but lived – or live – as on another planet. How can we teach the generations to come to feel deeply about those deaths that the world was powerless to prevent, or be alert to the deaths that can be prevented today, to which we can put an end?

In recent times, ‘elitism’ and ‘classism’ have been identified in the writing of those who are thought of as being ‘privileged’ in this society. Does a person’s socio-economic background have any impact, in your opinion, on his/her world-view, or affect their authority to speak to contemporary issues? Why is a person’s ‘status’ such an issue in the literary world, in contemporary Sri Lanka?

I hesitate to answer, as I myself have been identified, and indeed attacked, as being ‘privileged’ in this society. Actually, my past is such that I have not, nor will ever, ‘shake it off’. There is something contradictory in the fact that, on the one hand, you are not accepted as a ‘full’ member of this society (and correctly so); and, on the other, you are attacked publicly (by reviewers in the press, for instance) for being ‘privileged’. As a matter of fact, I resent this: I have been a hard-working woman all my life, and am surprised that I have managed to stretch my very limited means to support me for ninety-one years.

And yes, I do think a socio-economic background has an impact on one’s world-view; and certainly I feel no inhibition or lack of authority hampering my discussions of literary writing or contemporary issues. But I think I should explain that people who wish to express their ‘displeasure’ have seldom taken the trouble to study the item they are criticizing or reviewing: on the contrary, in their reading they have totally misunderstood what has been written. I have never had any objection to serious and constructive reviewing – quite the contrary. But I do feel resentment and injustice when I receive misrepresentation intended to destroy.

Dr. Lakshmi de Silva, translator and literary critic, has identified three categories in your poetry. Those who identify you as solely a ‘Holocaust Poet’ fail to recognise the diversity of your subject matter and your interests. Could you comment?

Lakshmi is, I believe, correct in her assessment. It is likely that some of the ‘Holocaust Poems’, which appeared not so long after World War II was over, overshadowed what followed. Professor Yasmine Gooneratne published my poem Auschwitz from Colombo in New Ceylon Writing in 1970 without knowing who I was, or how I came to be in Sri Lanka.

The fact is, that I had a busy and varied life, which changed dramatically after my husband’s death. My poems served as a kind of catharsis, arising out of powerful impressions, with no special objective. During a period of perhaps sixty-five years, they covered the events of a lifetime, and so I am not surprised that readers could not identify or ‘recognise the diversity of the subject matter’. I hope that my last book, Four Things, may help them to do so.

The poem ‘Amaryllis’ is one which fuses specific detail with intense symbolism and connotation, in a manner that opens it up to universal readers. How important has the rich, detailed experience of the sensory world been to you as a writer?

‘Amaryllis’ is a favourite poem of mine. I was sitting at my desk in my office, and watching this unbelievable happening: I wrote as it happened. The whole process was so smooth, so elegant and beautiful, I became totally involved and charmed. There was no question of choosing words or making corrections: this plant was as alive as I was, with its own incredible, distinctive personality.

And then, the tragedy

that the Amaryllis will bloom only once

because the soil and climate are alien.

How important has it been to you to find understanding in your readership? Has that need changed across your lifetime?

I am always delighted if my writing is found interesting or useful. But, basically, it is not important. I have to be satisfied, and that has not changed over the years.

What advice would you give to young writers in today’s Sri Lanka? Can you comment on how you think the literary culture in English can be improved, to foster Sri Lankan creativity in literature?

1. Parents should introduce children to books at an early age, reading to them and with them till they can do so on their own.

2. Visits to bookshops.

3. Membership of libraries.

4. Family discussions of ‘special books’.

5. I found the most valuable ‘reading years’ between being approximately seven or eight and the time I had to start working for a living i.e., seventeen or so. I have continued reading all my life, but of necessity, the working and domestic obligations limited me.

6. Schools should play a much greater part in stressing the life-long value of the reading habit. But as I am no longer in touch with them (my own children are now of ‘retiring age’), I may not do them justice.

7. Foreign languages are of great importance. My own parents insisted that I should join the Latin class among the boys. My friend and I were the only two girls to do so. I have never regretted learning Latin, and still remember sections after 80-odd years.

Notes:

¹ Anne Ranasinghe’s ‘Moorfield’, which isn’t on the internet, has been altered to ‘Moorfields’.

² Eugene Onegin is a novel in verse written by Alexander Pushkin that was published in serial form between 1825 and 1832. The first complete edition was published in 1833, and the currently accepted version is based on the 1837 publication. Its innovative rhyme scheme, its natural tone and diction, and its economical transparency of presentation all demonstrate the virtuosity which has been instrumental in proclaiming Pushkin as the undisputed master of Russian poetry.

³ A striking (and easily accessible) instance in Sri Lanka’s English literature of a verse translation that has, via scholarly and meticulous transliteration, ‘come to occupy literary space in its own right’ may be seen in George Keyt’s English verse translation of Sri Jayadeva’s 12th century masterpiece, Gita Govinda (Bombay 1940), which is based on Harold Peiris’s transliteration from the Sanskrit original.

U.S. And Them

This article originally appeared in Roar.lk as 'U.S. and Them', and Groundviews as 'US and Them'.

The United States and Sri Lanka are both Republics. Both countries call themselves democratic societies. In the U.S., 300 million citizens of diverse ethnic origin occupy part of a vast continent. In Sri Lanka, 21 million citizens of diverse ethnic origin inhabit a small island state. The societies of both the United States and Sri Lanka have been disrupted by intermittent civil unrest and violence, due to the anger and disaffection of their ethnic minority groups, and both have suffered terrorist attacks. The U.S. has experienced sporadic race riots, in specific cities, but Sri Lanka has endured almost 30 years of a Civil War which has affected the entire nation. In contrast with American culture, which is individualistic, and values free expression, Sri Lanka is founded on socialist principles, and embedded in its culture is an expectation that individuals in its society will conform to traditional societal and familial norms.

The United States has, time and again, been held up to the rest of the world as a model democracy. Image courtesy australiannationalreview.com

Like most of the rest of the world, we have had the U.S.A. held up to us as a model of success, wealth, power, and the ‘democratic way of life’. But the recent U.S. Election has given us an unforgettable example of what we do not want to become.

We have reason to be cautious. We are a society in transition, on a progressive and expansive path, and seeing a larger democracy experience a mighty shock can teach us a great deal. Many American people are talking and writing about the recent Election as if it is The End Of The World As They Know It. And, like any self-respecting plus size personality, they assume that their problems loom equally large on everyone else’s horizon. As a result, we are being given a fascinating insight into a national course-correct that will affect the whole world.

The often negative attitudes expressed towards the ‘Good Governance’ platform of the current regime are indications that we in Sri Lanka could benefit from an evaluation of ourselves in relation to our effectiveness as a functioning democracy.

Most of us equate ‘America’ with ‘Democracy’ because America’s elected leaders have told us repeatedly that they are the protectors of democracy, and that their Constitution enshrines the best, most authentic expression of democratic values: a government of the people, by the people, for the people. In the aftermath of the recent election, however, it is becoming clear that many Americans feel that the results of this election do not express their true wishes and aspirations. And that they recognise that their own electoral process needs re-evaluation.

Fact Or Fiction? Opinion Rules The Day

In the lead up to the American election, many mainstream media outlets threw objectivity to the winds, openly and aggressively coming out in support of one candidate over the other. The right to freedom of expression, fuelled by opinion-based journalism and intensified by extensive national discussion on social media, has led to a full airing of American citizens’ personal and political views. The extent to which journalists and cartoonists have expressed their negative views of the President-Elect of The U.S. has been remarkable to witness, from a country where such freedom of the press has, in relatively recent times, been forcefully discouraged.

In the absence of reliable facts, the voting population of America seems to have subscribed to the sensationalisation of trivia and the cults of personality that were created around the competing contenders. Much of the ‘free’ speech expressed by its citizens has deteriorated rapidly into ‘hate’ speech, and it is clear that political debate becomes intensely and irrevocably personal in such a volatile context.

Bizarre (apparently undemocratic) Fact: Hillary Clinton seems to have won the popular vote, by 4 million votes and counting, but Donald Trump has been declared the winner. He is currently forming a team of advisors to ‘Make America Great Again’.

What Does The Phrase ‘Make America Great’ Even Mean?

Nationalism, personified. Not MY Captain. Image courtesy m7781.deviantart.com

For most of the 20th and 21st centuries, the United States has felt entitled to ‘lead the world’. Its economic dominance began in the 18th century, generated by aggressive colonisation, and sustained with slave labour. It boomed in the late 19th century, fuelled by exploitation of mineral resources and mass industrialisation. The 20th century saw the U.S.A. become a Superpower. What defined this ‘Super’- iority? Its deployment of nuclear weaponry in 1945, and its exploration of space (competitively called ‘The Space Race’); its economic domination of the United Nations, the IMF and the World Bank; and, in between bouts of orchestrated military aggression, its monopoly of global media, through syndicated entertainment-focused television, cable TV and syndicated news programmes, mass marketed movies, and popular music.

American leaders have also promoted the United States as ‘the world leader’ in democratic values: in progressive human rights and in women’s and children’s rights. By doing so, they have accorded themselves the apparently God-given ‘right’ to deploy ‘peacekeeping’ forces around the world in geopolitically strategic zones in the name of enforcing their ‘democratic way of life’. And to criticise other countries’ records of alleged war crimes, genocide and abuse of human rights, despite themselves launching invasions of other people’s countries (to which they give sensationalised names, such as ‘Operation Shock And Awe’). There is a long, observable tradition of this poeticisation of skewed ‘justice’.

The events of recent weeks have shown us that, far from being united, the citizens of the United States are currently more polarised than they have ever been since the Civil War. The current U.S. President Elect’s openly trumpeted sexism, racism, and disrespect for others and presentation of himself as an insular, self-glorifying, celebrity-obsessed megalomaniac, should have disqualified him from consideration for the position of ‘Leader Of The Free World’.

The Imminent First Couple. (Not the First Piano, however.)

This Election result is being equated by some writers with the greatest national disaster to occur on U.S. soil ‒ the terrorist attacks of 9/11, 15 years ago. These commentators range, in the egalitarianism created by the internet age, from established political columnists to social media bloggers. The surreal part of it all is that this ‘disaster’ is not the result of attack by an external enemy. Through a combination of arrogance, otherisation, complacency and ignorance, the American people – self-styled role models for the so-called ‘Free World’ – have willed it on themselves.

Trump is not a career politician, and many voters, seemingly disillusioned with the traditional political process, appear to have found this a positive and appealing quality. His own words and conduct, however, have led many to question his capability and qualifications for leadership. The U.S.A., in its presently divided state, appears to be in no condition to model for the rest of us the best way to live.

The claim of Western governments to embody and uphold democratic values died a public death when the United States, Britain and Australia instigated the invasion of Iraq, and perpetrated two successive Gulf Wars, against the express wishes of the people who had elected them. The carnage and cultural desecration that has ensued has been front page news for decades.

The officially sanctioned treatment of prisoners of war at Guantanamo Bay, the so-called ‘War on Terror’, the arguments for Homeland Security, and fictitious searches for Weapons of Mass Destruction to retroactively justify the demonisation and murder of Saddam Hussein have combined to further diminish American credibility. The U.S. otherises people, and blatantly and self-justifyingly deals in stereotypes. Much of the conduct of the American government is concealed from the people who elect them. This style of faux democratic leadership has been reflected in both Britain and Australia, in the same time frame. This tendency to judge the value of our governments by their rousing and sanctimonious words, and by their manipulated appearances, is something all citizens need to challenge, each in our own political culture.

“Something there is that doesn’t love a wall” is the opening line of Robert Frost’s Mending Wall, which argues that people should evolve from a fear-based position of aggression towards others, to a more realistic and respectful co-existence. Yet many people on November 8 voted for a leader who claimed he would isolate America and keep out unwanted, ‘alien’ and ‘illegal’ people.

How could the ‘majority’ of citizens, in a country whose most recognisable icon is the Statue of Liberty, vote for a man who wants to build a wall to keep out illegal immigrants who (he says) threaten the ‘American way of life’? Because ‘Good Fences Make Good Neighbours’? Because received wisdom is that Anglo-Celtic values are under threat?

Possible Reasons Why This Unexpected Election Result Has Occurred Include:

No quick fix for this. Image courtesy starecat.com

1. The Questionable Quality Of The Candidates

In contrast to Trump the entrepreneur, Hillary Clinton is far more qualified and experienced in political leadership. However, many voters distrusted Clinton’s integrity, due to her involvement in questionable political, financial, and legal incidents during her long political career. Including the Whitewater Scandal, the sources of funding for the Clinton Foundation, and her ‘hawkish’ proclivities during her tenure as Secretary of State.

2. The Stereotypical Image Of Male Leadership

Sexist views are clearly still current in the USA: that women are incapable of leadership, despite the public perception that America leads the world in progressive recognition of women’s rights. And despite public exposure of Trump’s comparative incapacity to responsibly lead the country. The appeal that Hillary Clinton held for women, who seek increasing empowerment and greater recognition of their contribution, was neutralised to some extent by her apparent elitism and remoteness from the experience of ordinary American women.

3. The Desire For ‘Strong’ Leadership

Dislike of U.S. Liberalism, which is seen as ‘weakening’ America by embracing multiculturalism and gender equality, was made clear by the comments of many voters. National ‘strength’ is equated with Nationalism. Trump’s identification of this stereotype endeared him to many voters. Their stance was reinforced by the arrogant superiority of many Liberals, who believed Clinton would win because they could not take Trump seriously, and treated him and his supporters as a joke. (Clinton actually called Trump supporters ‘a basket of deplorables‘.)

The conspicuous display of opulent wealth and material power (cars, planes, houses, harems, jewellery, grandiose statements, Ozymandian boasts and threats, vainglory) exhibited by our leaders and their ‘dynastic’ families should be treated with suspicion by voters, in countries calling themselves democracies. Such display is insensitive and insulting, to all their fellow citizens, who they claim to lead by example. It is inexcusable, in a Socialist Republic.

4. Voter No-Shows

A staggering 46.3% of the U.S. voting populace did not vote at all. But this was not entirely due to confusion or apathy. Many American citizens, despite being taught Civics in school, are ignorant and unaware, not only of their rights, but of their democratic responsibilities. On a practical level, Election Day in the U.S. takes place on a Tuesday, which means that many people are unable to physically present themselves to vote. Many voters were not aware that each state and electoral jurisdiction across the 50 states has its own specific eligibility rules. Some require photo ID. Some require electoral registration in other forms, requiring validation by sheriffs and other extra-judicial officers, which cannot be certified at the last minute. People who relocated across states in the months prior to Election Day were caught out. There was also a huge difference in waiting times for voters from different electoral regions. You have to be very committed to wait for 3-4 hours in line to cast your vote!

In contrast, 81.52% of the voting population turned up in electoral districts across Sri Lanka to cast their vote on January 8, 2015.

5. Public Perceptions

American society, which calls itself ‘democratic’, has actually been moving over the past three decades to resemble a feudal economy, with working class people, rural citizens and the poorer sections of the middle class forming a vast underclass,disenfranchised and anxious as the industrialised economy disintegrates around them. The wealthy elite is becoming, in the Great American superlative tradition, ‘The Super Rich’.

America today is fractured: along lines of class, race, gender, ethnicity, religion, affluence, and money. Inequity and violence have been glossed over by ‘Quick Fix’ myths which people have been ready to believe. It requires little effort, and no thought, to stereotype others and blame them for problems that have been a long time in the making. Scapegoats include (but are not limited to) African Americans, immigrants, refugees and non-Christians (particularly those of visibly different faith).

It is not merely the American Dream that has suffered trauma in recent weeks. It is American self-belief. The default mode of national self-confidence, implied in slogans such as ‘From Rags To Riches’; ‘Only In America’ and ‘The Streets Of New York Are Paved With Gold’, has hit a wall. The country which invented the ‘reality check’ is now undergoing a public re-evaluation: a moral audit.

(Don’t Say) The Dream Is Over

The right to say ‘No’ is a fundamental right. Image courtesy AP

The American Dream, with its liberating and appealing notions of egalitarianism, meritocracy, and justice for all has been brilliantly explored, both in sociocultural and fictional texts, as well as in popular culture in every form. Status Anxiety by Alain de Botton, and F. Scott Fitzgerald’s The Great Gatsby are just two classic explorations of the financial aspects of the American Dream. The Ugly American and The Fire Next Time are complements to one of the best known ‘anti-prejudice’ novels of all time: To Kill A Mockingbird. Ayn Rand praised the genius of American industry and talent, and satirised American hypocrisies of various kinds, in The Fountainhead and Atlas Shrugged. Arthur Miller explored the downside of commercial culture in Death Of A Salesman, and the dangers of equating Church and State in The Crucible. One of the truly great aspects of America has been its consistent ability to honour creative works which criticise and challenge what it would prefer to believe about itself.

Land Of The Not-So-Free And Home Of The Fearful

The ‘brave’ and ‘free’ mythologised America we admire was made powerful by an economic system founded on capitalism and individualism. The spirit of entrepreneurship, of progressiveness, of innovation, permeated our views of it. Today, we are told that America’s elections are rigged, that its newscasts are tainted, biased and faked, that misinformation is rife, and that white American males, and the women (and men) who love them, are feeling threatened because they are facing the loss of their ‘White Privilege’, enshrined in a narrow, self-serving interpretation of The Declaration of Human Rights, which, in practice, until recently excluded African Americans and Indigenous peoples from being considered as human beings, let alone equal citizens.

Yet African Americans such as Beyoncé and Whitney Houston have been regularly invited to embody the dreams that America has of itself. This public anointing of the descendants of former slaves is part of the best that a country which exploited their labour has to offer. But it is tokenistic, in its sharp contrast with the everyday brutality and humiliation suffered by African Americans of lesser status.

Whitney Houston sang this rendition of the National Anthem at The Superbowl in 1991, at the height of her singing career. She was a perfect embodiment of incandescent talent, boldness and beauty when she exemplified the American Dream in her role in ‘The Bodyguard’, in which her character was an Oscar-winning megastar. Inspired by her performance, viewers could easily fail to see that their national feeling was being used as a celebration of America’s invasion of Iraq in the Gulf War. This aggression, and those which followed, led to 9/11: which many Americans saw as an entirely unprovoked attack, unaware that it was seen by many other countries as a retaliation to the aggressive warmongering of their own government.

Bigger Is Not Always Better And Might Is Not Right (Unless You’re A Fascist)

The ‘Larger Than Life’ aspirations of Americans have been indulged, admired and imitated by the world for decades. But in tandem with the good has come a great deal which operates to their – and our – detriment. Commercialism and materialism have accompanied a fragmentation of community, and a tendency to assign a ‘dollar value’ to every human act and product. Erosion of intellectual challenge, embracing of escapist entertainment and a self-indulgent preference for pre-fabricated opinion, has produced a reactive citizenry that is overly influenced by superficial and emotive media transmissions, characterized by reflex, unthought out actions, and unused to self-criticism. Many Americans sometimes behave as if the whole world is a theme park, and other people’s cultural realities either exotic backdrops or toys which can be appropriated for their amusement.

In our obsession with the colonial issues we have with the British Empire, we in Sri Lanka have until now failed to acknowledge that the United States has raised us, on its films, its music, and its popular culture. In common with the rest of the world, which means anyone with a television and internet access, we are tremendously influenced by American grand narratives and cultural values. The U.S. Presidential Election of 2016 could be a ‘one in a million’ opportunity for us to develop some autonomy, at last. And to avoid the potential chaos that can accompany the mishandling of cultural pluralism, which is a social and political concern both countries share.

America Rough Rides Over Other People’s Rights

Where does a country’s independence end, and its nationalistic aggression towards others begin? If every citizen of the United States is entitled to ‘Life, Liberty and the Pursuit of Happiness’, why are so many American citizens of colour harassed, victimised, brutalised, and killed?

Ugly truths are self-evident.

Why do some Americans not recognise the rights of other nations, including the First Nations, to their own autonomy, dignity and fulfillment? Can Americans continue to live at peace, and with a sense of co-existence, in a world where they are told in so many ways, every day, that the lives of U.S. citizens are worth more than the lives of everyone else? Can they see beyond the self-affirming hype and the spin, which continually tells them that they are the greatest nation on earth, the new rulers of the world, and the victims of violence rather than perpetrators of it?

What Can We Learn From The American Election?

Free your mind and the rest will follow. Image courtesy AP

In Sri Lanka, we have a legacy of 500 years of successive colonisation, and a complex inheritance of social division resulting from colonisation: indentured labour, language segregation, social unrest, and civil war. In the U.S., self-rule was established early. But its economy was founded on slavery, and inequity. And while it officially welcomes immigrants, they are often treated with suspicion. In our case, indentured labour imported by the British led to people being treated as commodities and systematically oppressed in a colonial society. These citizens were further frustrated by the segregation of people by language, that occurred in 1956, with the ‘Sinhala Only’ Act.

It is clear that ‘Life, Liberty and The Pursuit Of Happiness’ are not givens, anymore, in the complex and volatile politicised world we live in today. They cannot be taken for granted. On the contrary, they must be valued, and they must be protected: through our own vigilance, and our development of our own ability to understand the social structures and processes around us. What can we take away from this scenario?

1. That we must take our own liberty seriously. That ‘a strong leader’ is often a euphemism for a dictator. That our political, legal and moral rights are not in fact ‘unalienable’, but can – with terrifying speed – be taken from us. We must ensure that better quality candidates offer themselves for elected office. And assert our rights to be governed responsibly, by making better and more informed choices of leaders, and holding them accountable for their conduct in office.

2. That we must protect our lives, not by asserting the right to bear firearms against our fellow citizens, but by protecting our livelihood through education and self-development, and defending our rights to freedom of information. This means we must be aware of what compromises our ability to think through the issues which affect us, recognising the need for critical thinking and active learning to be taught in our schools, colleges and universities.This is seen, in a traditional society, as a challenge to existing societal norms and values, and a questioning of authority. Because it is.

3. That we must value our health and our education, and the systems that support them. Our liberty of body and mind depends on both of these. And these are essential components of happiness. We must prioritise these in our society, as well as our economy. There is a time for war, and a time for peace. A time to focus on survival, and a time to pursue what makes life worth living.

4. That we must educate ourselves in our civic responsibilities. Or risk becoming puppets in the hands of leaders who have no concern for anything other than their own short-term enrichment. We must not allow our potential leaders or those with vested interests to manipulate us through our fears and prejudices, or use emotive appeals to nationalism, ethnicity or religion to make us complicit in acts which divide our society. We must try to see that every ‘other’ person in our society has an equivalent centre of self which is just as valuable to them as ours is to us. Political correctness and faux tolerance which are forced onto a population inevitably generate a backlash.

5. That we must take responsibility for ourselves, refrain from Otherisation, and consistently refuse to automatically see people who we perceive as being different from us as hostile ‘enemies’. We have seen underlying tensions in our own country incited into violence in 1958, 1971, 1983 and during the long Civil War which has so recently ended. We, of all democratic nations, should take a good look and NOT ‘Follow The Leader’ this time.

The United States prints ‘In God We Trust’ on their currency notes. In Sri Lanka, we call ourselves a majority Buddhist nation, activated by Loving-Kindness and Compassion. Whatever we call the source of our guiding principles, our conduct towards those most vulnerable in our societies, the victims of our visible existing inequities, falls far short of the democratic standards we say we aspire to, but to which we, and our elected leaders, too often merely pay lip service.

Like the protagonist in Robert Frost’s poem Mending Wall, it is time to break from tradition, to question the status quo, and adapt intelligently to a new reality. To change from a combative, ‘Me’ (survivalist) sociopolitical concept to a constructive, ‘We’ (collaborative) concept.

Postmodern society is characterised by fragmentation, pluralism, blurred boundaries, radical indeterminacy and moral relativism. It is confusing, and stressful. Being ‘inclusive’ and ‘politically correct’ can seem as though one is unleashing a Babel of dissonant voices.

Avoiding and pre-empting otherisation in Sri Lanka would include critiquing nationalist hate speech and the targeting of ethnic minority groups, promoting inter and intra-cultural respect, collaboration and inclusiveness represented by civil society initiatives like the recent ‘Wings’ Reconciliation Conference held at the BMICH, and ensuring that the press attention given to concepts of justice and equity by many of our leaders is translated into practical and ongoing action.

Sri Lanka’s commercial and economic infrastructure is modelling itself on the capitalistic examples provided for us by the ‘First World’ countries we look up to (and receive aid from). Image courtesy torontoslcg.org

As Sri Lanka becomes more developed, partly with the aid and investment of ‘First World’ countries like the United States, our commercial and economic infrastructure is modelling itself on the capitalistic examples provided for us by these countries. Big business, nepotism, and cronyism, class division and the increasing economic divide, power abuse and systemic corruption all threaten our progressive development. Established socio-economic hierarchies, and internalised power differentials, inappropriate in a Socialist Republic, create apathy, stagnancy, and discouragement, as the citizens in a democracy struggle against the ceilings and walls which block their advancement.

Translating every statement into three languages can be time-consuming. Trying to engage with the perspective of others can be effortful. A response to these difficulties is often to forcefully attempt reversion to what is seen as a simpler past, in which everyone’s roles were clearly demarcated: a sexist, racist, classist past. But that would be to erase the valuable steps we have collectively taken as a human race towards a more aware, inclusive and participatory, truly democratic world.

What kind of society do we want for ourselves? In the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka, today, we have a choice. But we can make use of that choice only if we educate ourselves to exercise that choice wisely. Even if our freedom means that everyone else we share our country with is just as free as we are, this does not diminish our own personal freedom. It enhances it. It ensures it.

Featured image credit AP/Ted S. Warren