New Forms in the Light of History (2)

Velicham
New Forms in the Light of History (2)

New Forms in the Light of History (2)

The Dipavamsa, which is said to have been written in the 4th century CE and is regarded by the Sinhalese as their earliest historical chronicle, begins in this manner. Referring to Vijaya, who is presented as the founder of the Sinhalese and the first inhabitant of Sri Lanka, it declares:

“I am about to relate here the history of the island of Lanka, called Sinhala because it descended from Sinhala. Listen.”

In 1902, Anagarika Dharmapala echoed this idea:

“2,446 years ago, a group of Aryans sailed from the city of Sinhapura in Bengal in search of new and fertile lands. The Aryan settlers of Sinhapura, created by the lion-king Sinhabahu and bearing arms, came to be known as the Sinhalese. The present-day Sinhalese are the descendants of this armed lion-king.”

The world knows that Goebbels helped Hitler spread the false notion that Germans were a pure Aryan race. But the world does not know that Mahanama existed before Goebbels. In truth, it is Goebbels who should perhaps have been mockingly called a second Mahanama. Look at what Mahanama, secluded within the Mahavihara, accomplished.

Certainly, one can understand that he faced certain pressures and constraints connected to his own community. Yet, for that reason, he composed what the author views as an extraordinary historical myth—one that deserves careful scrutiny.

Buddhism, which arose in North India, spread to South India and Sri Lanka. It took root among the people of Sri Lanka’s megalithic culture and eventually became the state religion of Anuradhapura. However, by around the 1st century CE, Buddhism split into two branches: Theravada and Mahayana.

Mahayana spread throughout South India, while Theravada remained dominant in Sri Lanka. When Mahayana ideas later spread from South India to Sri Lanka, religious conflict emerged. Because Mahayana came from South India, this conflict had the potential to become identified with opposition to South Indian Tamils.

As if adding fuel to the fire, in the 3rd century CE the Tamil monk Sanghamitta converted the Sinhalese king Mahasena to Mahayana Buddhism. This angered the Theravada monks centered in the Mahavihara. Mahasena’s supporters also suffered as a result.

This was one challenge.

Another challenge arose in India, where Hindu religious movements mounted opposition to Buddhism. Eventually, through a subtle ideological process, Buddha himself came to be incorporated as an avatar of a Hindu deity. In this way, Hinduism absorbed the very religion from which Buddha had broken away. Ultimately, Mahayana Buddhism—with its many progressive and innovative ideas—declined.

The monks of the Mahavihara clearly understood that preserving Theravada Buddhism was essential for their own survival.

At this same time, around the 6th century CE, the Bhakti movement emerged in South India during the Pallava and Pandya periods and influenced Sri Lanka, particularly among Tamils. According to historian K. M. de Silva, this Bhakti movement helped create distinct Buddhist and Hindu religious identities in Sri Lanka and fostered cultural differences between Tamils and Sinhalese.

The earlier megalithic cultural world was transformed. In one region arose temples built according to Dravidian traditions; in another arose Buddhist monasteries.

Against this background, the idea of protecting Buddhism took root in the mind of Mahanama. It became the Mahavamsa, and transformed the war between Dutugemunu and Elara into a conflict defined by religion and ethnicity. The consequences of this “Mahavamsa mentality” grew into a poisonous giant tree whose effects are known to us and have been experienced by us.

What is the meaning of this Sinhalese-Buddhist myth?

According to the doctrine known as Dhammadipa:

“Sri Lanka exists for Buddhism by the will of the Buddha himself. Vijaya was the first man of Sri Lanka. He established kingship here. Vijaya and his descendants alone were chosen to safeguard Buddhism.”

Thus, ethnicity, religion, language, nation, and state became intertwined and fused together within this myth.

If one examines this ideological construction closely and describes it in political language, it concerns the sovereignty of the Sinhalese people, the creation of their state, and the national idea that justifies it.

The unitary-state ideology to which the Sinhalese remain deeply attached today—and which, in turn, remains firmly attached to them—can be seen as the creation of Mahanama and those who developed his ideas.

How successive Sinhalese governments after 1948 used this ideological framework to consolidate their power is something that scholars such as Noam Chomsky ought to examine.

What has been the consequence of this ideological construction?

Today, at this very moment:

“While the umbrella-like palmyra trees wither and sway,

why are people from Bentota, Matara, Kadawatha, and Ganemulla—places far away—living and struggling in Kudathanai and Kulaikkaadu, at Kunjar’s market junction?

Some great sorrow weighs heavily upon the heart…”

To be continued…