If the basic purpose of the use of history is to give people a place in the world, something to hold on to, we come immediately up against a contradiction, because in some cases, history does not seem to be called upon to do this. Identity - and that means place in the world - are often established by religion and myth. What use and meaning can history have in this context, since it is obviously answering a felt need?
History can only establish something above that, which is difficult to conceptualise, or something more basic: a right to be, a right to exist at all. Seen in this context, i.e. if we assume that in certain cases identity precedes history, and if history establishes the legitimation of existence, then identity, the consciousness of self, looks inward, towards the in-group. Only after this step historical consciousness can emerge to establish boundaries, to perceive differences and to stake claims over disputed terrain. History serves to forge added cohesion. This is a point of view not widely accepted. But remembering one's past need not necessarily mean antagonism towards others. What is, however, true, is that historical consciousness and the conscious use of history are two concepts going beyond mere identity affirmation.
From 'having a place in the world' and comparisons with other(s') histories we come to another vital point: whose history is it anyway: Who decides which history is the definitive one? Why is this acceted or rejected? How can the diverging histories of different social and political groups be the same or be merged into one history, distinguishable from other histories? And which one, in the case of divergence, is the definitive one? Is there a definitive one?
The so-called German Historians' Debate af few years ago is an extreme example of the eternal question: to whom does history belong, who can legitimately claim it and who is entitled to write the definitive history? There seems to be an even more fundamental problem in the Tamil case, namely to prove the right to be there at all. The Tamils are a numerically large people with a distinctive culture, literature, language, philosophy and a consciousness of belonging together, who were, however, seldom or never, unified as one 'nation' in one state or under one government.
The question is: 'what have they made of this'? One striking factor is that historically perceived secondary virtues like industriousness, diligence, economic skill etc. are cited as justifications to claim or retain advantages and privileges: a stand taken by a people on the defensive, and history is used as the last line of defence.[4]
We will come back to these questions when discussing Tamil and Sinhalese history and the perceptions to whom Ceylonese history belong. The possession of this history is fiercely contested by both groups. At the moment we will content ourselves with stating that people claim to have the definitive view of history and thus possess history. All other views are considered wrong or distorted. This is fairly uncomplicated as long as your history is sufficiently different from mine to not cover the same areas. But what if your and my history is acted out on the same terrain? When one and the same history is claimed by several groups with different interpretations?
History: a Problem of Perception
These are the questions thrown into bold relief by Tamil history in Sri Lanka and the Tamils' perception of it. Their emphasis on history, historical precedence, the proof orjudgment of history, in short, their perception and use of history, go to prove not who or what or how they are or how they came to be there (they know that), but to prove that they have a right to be there, a right to be. If we start off with this crucial assumption, a lot of things fall into place, and we can begin to study Tamil historiography in Jaffna from quite a new angle: The Tamils are trying to recover their history, thus assuming that somebody has taken it away from them, and this somebody are the Sinhalese who in turn try to protect their history from onslaughts and usurpation by the Tamils. Who possesses the history, possesses the country, possesses the right to rule, the right to exist.
And here we confront the problem mentioned above: whose history is being recovered? To whom does the history of Ceylon belong? Now we see for the first time clearly the differences between the Tamil and the Sinhalese perception of history: Tamil history becomes more and more inclusive, Sinhalese history is exclusive: the Tamils include all Ceylonese history in their history which can assume two ways: either the whole Ceylonese history is legitimate history as that of the two peoples living in the island, or all Ceylonese history is subsumed under the bracket 'Tamil history'.
For the Sinhalese, on the contrary, only Sinhalese history can be Ceylonese history, everything else is an intrusion and an assault. Among the Tamils the inclusion works on the internal as well as on the external level: The external one can be illustrated with Elara (see below), the internal one with the filtering down of the term Tamil from only applicable to Vellalars to all castes. The filtering down of Tamil history creates solidarity among Tamils against an outgroup who has no Tamil history at all, but it is always a precarious unity: Indian Tamils and Tamils in India are excluded, geography and politics play their part. On the other hand, when history filters down, changes occur, history does not trickle down in a pure form, it gets mixed with the history from below, and this creates new, and often violent, contradictory, perceptions.
Having got so far, we can now concentrate on the way history is perceived, written and used among the Tamils. Of course, the Tamils are not unique in using history for political ends, on the contrary, peoples in the 19th century who strove to become nations have had similar problems and used history to prove who and what they were and where they came from and that they therefore had a right to nationhood. But that is exactly the point: other peoples proved who and what they were, but I doubt whether they set out mainly to justify their very existence: they established existence in history, but not through history. The small emerging nations in the 19th century said 'we are a great people, so we have a right to exist as a nation or at least to be recognised as a nationality', whereas the Tamils say: we are a great people, we have a right to exist.
Why History?
This raises three questions, namely,
1) why have the Tamils to justify their very existence,
2) why by the means of history, and why 3) do they not prove who and what they are by means of history, as many other groups do?
The answer to the third question is because it is not necessary, and the answer to the second is because by other means it is not sufficient. Let us try to answer the first question then by illustration. The Tamils do not need history to prove who and what they are and how they came to be what they are, because they confirm their identity by other means, namely, religious, cultural, literary, social. They are secure as Tamils, and Tamil culture and religion do not need a state, they are timeless.
To be sure, history (here in the sense of tales of the past) plays a part in this, but we should not project our theoretical understanding of history or of historical consciousness onto a culture which perceives these things differently, and even if these phenomena are historical, they are not perceived as such by the Tamils. For them to be Tamils, a history of the Tamil state or the Tamil empire or even the Tamil people is incidental, they feel not less Tamils because this empire is spurious or because there never might have been a Tamil state.
This is not vital to their identity as it is to that of the Sinhalese, for whom the existence of a Buddhist state in time is a precondition of their own identity. But to prove that they have a right to exist, to be there at all and then to be there as Tamils, i.e. as Jaffna or Ceylon Tamils, they do indeed need history, in this case history decisively in the form of history of a state, and this is an essentially modern phenomenon (see below).
This approach seems to be contradicted by a recent study by Bruce Kapferer on myths of state, nationhood and violence,[5] where he propounds the very interesting theory that the mythical understanding of their past provides a very unique and very historical theory of history: he claims that the Hindu-Buddhist doctrine of karma is practically the essence of history and historical theory.[6] Persuasive as this sounds, I am not sure that it applies to the Tamils in SL, to say nothing of those in India. For the Sinhalese it might well be true, but for the Tamils the sources show that if the Tamils had a 'sense of history' it was only marginally connected with karma (which is an individual, not a group concept).[7]
On the other hand, Kapferer's linking of karma with history is, in my mind, a stroke of genius which puts paid to many fond theories of the Indians not 'having history': what could be more 'historical' than a theory of constant development and evolution, where the past always exerts a decisive influence on the shaping of the present and the future, where present and future are always predicated on events of the past? But perhaps we approach the problem from the wrong angle: maybe we should broaden our concept of history. In trying to do that, we come up with two observations:
1) history as we know it is obviously not vital for the identity of the Tamils, and 2) the concept of what constitutes the past and what constitutes one's own past is vital.
Yet this concept of what constitutes one's own past differs in the West and among the Tamils. The problem then is how to define the past: not only is it largely constructed by us, but the method of construction is quite different in the East and the West: for the West, it is the (hi)story of relations between man and man, for the Indians it is the (hi)story of the relations between god and man: therefore, for being Tamil, no history of state was needed, but to justify existence, it was. Yet before we rush off to term it all history, we have to consider what the Tamils themselves perceive as history, as establishing and proving their existence, and it looks as if only history in the western sense is seen as being able to do that.[8]
History in the West and in the East: same term, same difference?
Western theories of history and historiography have mainly looked at Europe and either denied that other people had a 'proper' history at all (or at best an inferior one),[9] or completely overlooked them. Seldom has it been acknowledged that history and historiography might have different meanings for other cultures: for some who are we, for some, why are we here, how did we come here and why, but for some also, what right have we to exist? And depending on which of these questions history is expected to answer, where are answers to the remaining questions to be found: in religion, culture, myth!?
Here we come up against a seeming contradiction: for the Tamils in the late 19th century, only the past and the history constructed and furnished by the West were accorded the status of 'history' and 'historical', whereas the past of the East was termed 'religious' and 'mythical': a definition, at the same time containing a statement of value, of history coined by the West, but accepted by the Tamils. Yet the function given to this history was quite different from that of the West.
If we accept this, we can then deduce the intentions with which 'Tamil histories' or 'Histories of Jaffna' have been written and the purposes they were being put to. These purposes, I would argue, are entirely and openly political and I would add, since all history is political, partisan. And if we look at the controversies that have raged in this context, we can see that the facts, let alone their interpretation, are in many case the bone of contention: was there a kingdom of Jaffna, were there groups like the Tamils and the Sinhalese at all, who ruled the island, who were the first settlers, even, was there a Vijaya and if so, who was he, and so on.
This leads on to secondary controversies over the relationship between the Sinhalese and the Tamils, over the events which brought about immigration, whether 'ethnic' antagonism concerned the population or only the rulers, and so on. I am certainly not setting out to decide these controversies one way or the other, but to point out the direction they took and what were the arguments used in the debate.[10] In a recent paper Sudipta Kaviraj mentioned that with the awakening of historical consciousness and 'national consciousness' in India or Bengal came the question not who are we, but what can we wreak on the world with our numbers' because we are Bengalis.[11] While this certainly applies to the Sinhalese equally, it would apply less to the Tamils, at least in Sri Lanka: not 'what can we wreak on the world', but 'what can we get out of the world' (because we are Tamils).