Compassion & violence co-exist

Ravi Velloor,South Asia Bureau Chief of the Strait Times, ponders the social dichotomy of Sri Lanka’s culture.

(February 24, Colombo, Sri Lanka Guardian) Everytime I travel to Colombo the first person I usually call is old Pali Wickremesinghe, whose family owns Ceylon Biscuits, the island's biggest food company.This time when I tried him I reached Pali in a town called Negombo.

I didn't think much of it; Pali is one of those ancient Wodehousian spirits who restlessly travels from town to town, enjoying the beauty of the land around him, savouring its tastes and scents.

That evening, as we caught up over dinner, I learnt the reason he was in Negombo. His former driver, now old, was ailing and he had gone to look him up and make sure the man was comfortable.

Typical Pali, I thought to myself. Then again, typical Sri Lanka!

Among all my travels in South Asia I have found no people more kind to the under-privileged than the average Sri Lankan. There are huge disparities of income, of course, but the average Sri Lankan household treats its menials with far more sympathy and dignity than anywhere else in the sub-continent.

In India, for instance, drivers are treated poorly, often told to sleep in their cars when their masters take them out of town.

In Nepal and Bangladesh I have seen some of the wealthiest people treat their help like serfs, turning a blind eye to their torn clothes, giving them little rest, frowning every time they seek a day off and ever watchful that food is being consumed without authorisation.

It came to me again a few days in Colombo, as I made arrangements at the Taj Samudra Hotel's travel desk for a taxi to the Jaffna peninsula in the north. I heard the car driver say something quietly to the manager. This man turned to me apologetically and pointed out that because of the troubled situation that existed in the north, hotels were few and those that did exist didn't have dormitories for drivers. I would have to pay extra for a room for the driver.

I readily agreed, and appreciated the dignity that the driver expected. It came so naturally because that is the norm. Anywhere else, and the travel desk chief would have probably instructed the man to "just manage".

The service class in Colombo probably has the best wages in all of South Asia, are certainly the best turned out and take their free time seriously. There is none of the excessive cringe that I see in some places of Pakistan for instance, or southern India.

And that is the way it should be. Little things like these have contributed to my abiding optimism for Sri Lanka.

I see car drivers stop at red lights at 2am. Road signs along the narrow highways are clear. The roads themselves are constructed well, their cambering so good that I hardly heard a tyre squeal around the bends.

Anecdotal evidence suggests that while there definitely is corruption, it is far less pervasive, or intrusive than in many other South Asian nations.

One thing that I cannot fathom however, is a rough edge to Sri Lankan society regarding political discourse. It can be vicious and slander is not uncommon.

The Rajapaksas, who arrested their former army chief this month, say Gen Fonseka would have done worse to them had the general come to power instead of them. After the late Junius Jayewardene rose to national leadership years ago, he stripped his predecessor, Mrs Sirima Bandaranaike, of her civil rights.

Some powerful people also display very thin skins even where legitimate criticism is concerned.

In February 1990, a prominent journalist named Richard de Zoysa was abducted and his body found in water. Many Sri Lankan journalists fled the island and I played host to one such family at the time. Elements linked to the state were suspected in Richard's murder.

Last year, another prominent journalist, Lasantha Wickrematunga was murdered in broad daylight in Colombo. Defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa points a finger at Fonseka for that murder.

Likewise, the Tamil Tiger supremo Velupillai probably accounted for the killings of more prominent Tamils, including some leading insurgents, than any death squads sent by the government in Colombo. He could brook no rival.

How can compassion and violence co-exist so perfectly in the same society? It is something that I haven't quite figured out.