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"Mischief, thou art afoot!"
By CNS
The present political chaos or the "constitutional crisis" is too complex for us "poor mortals" to understand. The current confusion and all its complexities, its fury and mire, are not at all easy to grasp and make sense of purely with a careful reading of explanations at press conferences, in communiqués and TV discourses or of interpretations in political commentaries and newspaper editorials. Statements or letters from the international community -Richard Armitage, Colin Powell, et al.- are not helpful, either. The contemporary Sri Lankan "crisis" defies analysis because it does not fall within "the parameters" (whatever that means) of any political theory or moral ethic.

Then, where shall we look? Look for a "paradigm shift" (whatever that too means) through a four-hundred-year-old four-word sentence: "Mischief, thou art afoot." These are portentous words that William Shakespeare put into the mouth of Mark Antony in Julius Caesar, a play full of conspiracy and potential revolution.

In early November last year three key cabinet portfolios were wrested from the grasp of the Prime Minister, who was abroad meeting the President of the world's super power. That was not as bad as in some African countries where the head of state, when he was abroad attending a meeting of the Organization of African Unity (OAU), returned home only to find that he had been removed from power in a coup.

Mark Antony's words may have found resonance in our country: "Now let it work. Mischief, thou art afoot. Take thou what course thou wilt." These are words Antony spoke in soliloquy, after his funeral oration over the dead body of Julius Caesar. The citizens had left with the body. Soliloquies in Shakespeare's plays lay bare the heart of the speaker, his innermost thoughts, his mind. These words reflect the harsh political realities of our time.

The course that the "most unkindest cut of all" after two years of hope and warlessness is taking may be "bound in shallows and in miseries". The henduwa (goad) has gone, leaving the mahout bereft. This is one way to look at the situation; another way, we are told, is that the henduwa, the portfolio of Defence, is not an indispensable tool for peace talks or economic growth or stability or investor confidence. The pot of rice that was on the fire has been smashed, the Prime Minister says. And, those who did not support the peace initiative are, ironically, now restless that it has been stalled. Ambivalence and dissension are rife. On the one hand, there is talk of "regaining Sri Lanka"; on the other, "resurrecting Sri Lanka". The crux of the matter is that "mischief is afoot".

Mischief, among all other similar concepts, is the one that seems to best describe our predicament, for as Octavius tells Antony: "And some that smile have in their hearts, I fear/ Millions of mischiefs". "Mischiefs", which we learnt in school was an uncountable noun, in Shakespearian language simply means "harmful thoughts". The smile incidentally was also a word in Hamlet, where "Oh villain, villain, smiling damned villain!…That one may smile, and smile and be a villain", casts doubts on what lies beneath a smile. Could it be "some sick offence within (the) mind"?

It is not only the political scene that smacks of "mischief". There is "mischief" everywhere: in five star hotels and nightclubs, and above all, in courts of law, where "dark poetic justice" is meted out to criminals brought to justice; " in divisional secretariats, where divisional secretaries are assaulted by MPs, and as a result hospitalized; in churches, which are stoned and bombed and destroyed and also in temples, where incumbent priests are grievously assaulted by Pradeshiya Sabha members; in five-star hotels and discotheques where the sons of the powerful cause "grievous hurt" to relatives of other powerful people. "Murder most foul" is everywhere as the crime rate rises.

The guarded whispers heard in nooks and corners, drawing rooms and lobbies, street corners and bus halts also smack of mischief of the type hatched by the conspirators in Julius Caesar. Mischief is truly afoot.

Shakespeare is intimately relevant to the Sri Lankan scene. In fact, it has always been, for Shakespeare is timeless. Our leaders, "proud men, dressed in a little brief authority" since and before independence from British rule are replicas of Shakespearian kings; their followers are replicas of the Roman mob, swayed by demagogy and roused by rhetoric.

The Roman mob is right here in Colombo and everywhere -waving flags, shouting slogans, pasting posters, threatening to commit suicide through hunger strikes, organizing mayhem and promoting chaos, waving our red weapons o'er our heads. "Cry Havoc and let slip the dogs of war."

What of the vast throngs that lined the route from the Airport to Colombo and "pressed upon him" during the Prime Minister's nine-hour journey to "Temple Trees"? That is another kind of Roman mob. What of the devotees clad in white that lined the streets bedecked with saffron flags and queued for hours to pay their last respects to Soma Hamuduruwo?

That is another kind of Roman mob. What of the crowds that listen to the insurrectionists of yesteryear at their well-orchestrated public rallies? What of the crowds that stand spell-bound by the hate for the Prime Minister that an erstwhile insurgent's rabble-rousing orations ooze with, resembling the blustering defiant anger of Cassius? That is another kind of Roman mob. Think of all the people who walked from Galle to Colombo and from Kandy to Colombo to "save the motherland". That also is a mob. Mobs are not in short supply in our land.

For a while, the Prime Minister flitting from one capital to another, building a safety net out of the international community, looked as if "he doth bestride the narrow world Like a Colossus" and "grown so great". Cassius's question to Brutus: "Why should that name be sounded more than yours?" may have been asked about the Prime Minister by "petty men", "underlings", whose "fault is not in (their) stars but in (themselves)". Have all the triumphs at the international level - support and good will, mega dollars of aid and solidarity from friends "to grapple to the soul with hoops of steel" -"shrunk to this little measure"?

Disrespect for the Roman Senate is reflected in the current disdain for our Parliament and the will of the people. "The will, the will", which the Roman populace wanted revealed is like the secret oath taken without an iota of regard for the people's right to know what's happening at the highest levels of government. The nation waited for several weeks to know the truth since award-winning young journalist Ranjit Ananda Jayasinghe in a Sunday Times front page headline told the country of a secret swearing-in ceremony. Those weeks were like the several minutes of waiting during and after Antony's oration before the mob was told about the will of Julius Caesar. "The abuse of greatness is, when it disjoins Remorse from power."

Amid the feigned friendship with those who murdered her husband, isn't there a widow among us who would soliloquize: "O pardon me, thou bleeding piece of earth, That I am meek and gentle with these butchers?" while an elaborate handshaking ("Shaking the bloody fingers of thy foes") takes place in a majestic memorial hall built in memory of a great father? Isn't there a Cassius somewhere with "a lean and hungry look" and "dangerous" who is asking," What compact mean you to have with us?" And, we heard on TV a former insurrectionist describe the onus of the "historic alliance" of January 20, 2004 as a "poojaneeya karthavya" (hallowed and sacred task) -" a dish fit for the gods".

The words of a soldier Marcellus (in Hamlet) - "Something is rotten in the state of Denmark"- must truly be true of Sri Lanka, where "judgement has fled to brutish beasts, And men have lost their reason." A citizen says in response to Mark Antony's oration, "I fear there will be a worse come in his place." This is a proverbial expression meaning that all change is for the worse.

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