{"id":181105,"date":"2017-08-15T11:29:16","date_gmt":"2017-08-15T05:59:16","guid":{"rendered":"https:\/\/www.colombotelegraph.com\/?p=181105"},"modified":"2017-08-20T00:00:07","modified_gmt":"2017-08-19T18:30:07","slug":"the-portuguese-as-demonic-marayo","status":"publish","type":"post","link":"https:\/\/www.colombotelegraph.com\/index.php\/the-portuguese-as-demonic-marayo\/","title":{"rendered":"The Portuguese As Demonic M\u0101rayo"},"content":{"rendered":"

By Michael Roberts<\/a> –<\/strong><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>

Dr. Michael Roberts<\/p><\/div>\n

This essay*<\/strong>\u00a0decodes a sixteenth century folktale which records the Sinhalese reaction to the arrival of the first Portuguese. Where the historiography has interpreted this tale as benign wonderment in the face of exotica, a piecemeal deconstruction of the allegorical clues in the ‘story is utilised to reveal how the Sinhalese linked the Portuguese with demons and with Vasavarti M\u0101ray\u0101, the arch enemy of the Buddha. In this fashion the Portuguese and the Christian sacrament of communion were represented as dangerous, disordering forces. The Piecemeal reinterpretation of this short text, however, must be overlaid by a holistic Perspective and the realisation that its rendering in oral form enabled its purveyors to lace the story with a satirical flavour: so that the Portuguese and Catholicism are, like demons, rendered both disordering and comic, dangerous and inferior\u2014thus ultimately controllable. In contending in this manner that the folktale is an act of nationalist opposition, the article is designed as an attack on the positivist empiricism which pervades the island’s historiography and shuts out imaginative reconstructions which are worked out by penetrating the subjective world of the ancient texts.<\/em><\/p>\n

\"\"<\/a>Contrary to popular misconceptions, the Portuguese<\/a> did not make any territorial conquests within Sri Lanka in 1505. Formal control over the maritime districts was secured only during the period 1597\u20141619.[1]<\/strong><\/a> What took place in 1505 was the appearance of Dom Lourenco de Almeida’s fleet of caravels and batels in the bay and open roadstead of Colombo, which was located about six miles from Kotte, the capital of the principal Sinhala kingdom. This may or may not have created a lasting impression. We will never know. What we do know is that it subsequently became the focus of a folk story, a jana kat\u0101<\/em>. It is my speculative assertion that this story partakes of the modus operandi<\/em> of certain Sinhala folk stories and is marked by the language of riddles and the language of allegories. It is a picture in which meanings are symbolically represented. In this allegorical form, I further assert, it is a genesis story in the same tradition as the Vijaya legend. It is a condensed representation of the primordial Portuguese.<\/p>\n

This symbolic presentation, I believe, depended on its performative context and phonetic intonation for its allegorical method to achieve full effect. When written down in literary texts, this power deteriorates. And that is what happened. This oral folk story entered the ‘pages’ of the ola-leaf book known as the Alak\u0113\u015bvara Yuddhaya<\/em> (AY) which was composed during the late Sitawaka period, probably around 1592.[2]<\/strong><\/a> In its turn a large section of’ the AY<\/em> entered the ola-leaf books known as the R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em> as they were written down in various recensions in and around the late sixteenth and seventeenth centuries; and so, this story was implanted word for word in the R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em>, a Sinhala work “written in a popular language” (Godakumbura) rather than a classical literary style.[3]<\/strong><\/a> Significantly, neither this story nor any mention of the first appearance of the Portuguese appears in the ‘official’ Pali chronicle, the C\u016blavamsa<\/em>. This is indicative of its rootedness in folk stories.<\/p>\n

The incorporation of oral tales into the historical chronicles of the Sinhala people in this manner was no novelty. Both the AY<\/em> and R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em> have a disjointed, pot pourri<\/em> character. They include fragments culled from other stories. The legendary form of many of’ these fragments suggest that both books include a significant number of’ folk tales. Be that as it may, the legend of the arrival of the Portuguese passed down the centuries via the conduit of the AY<\/em> and the R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em>. Versions of the R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em> were edited in English by Upham in 1833 and Gunasekara in 1900. Gunasekara’s translation of this story runs as follows:[4]<\/a><\/strong><\/p>\n

\u201cThere is in our harbour in Colombo a race of people fair of’ skin and comely withal. They don jackets of iron and hats of iron; they rest not a minute in one place; they walk here and there; they eat hunks of stone and drink blood; they give two or three pieces of gold and silver for one fish or one lime; the report of their cannon is louder than thunder when it bursts upon the rock Yugandhara. Their cannon balls fly many a gawwa and shatter fortresses of granite.\u201d<\/p>\n

In this form the story entered an early history book written in the English language by Codrington (1926). It became part of the popular fare for the educated in the early twentieth century.<\/p>\n

Among the English-educated middle class in Sri Lanka there were some who interpreted this story as a pointer to the simpleness of the ancient Sinhalese: the local people were goday\u0101s<\/em> (rustic yokels) who did not know what bread and wine were. Such an interpretation, of course, was a, symptom the Anglophilia which permeated the middle class and the distance which separated some of them from the generality of\u00a0the\u00a0people. It was also a mark of their ignorance. They had absorbed the Western world’s vision of mankind’s\u00a0civilisational\u00a0progress to such a\u00a0degree\u00a0that they were\u00a0unaware\u00a0of\u00a0the\u00a0extensive Indian Ocean trading network in precolonial times, of the flourishing shipbuilding industry in Sri Lanka in both\u00a0pre-Portuguese\u00a0and\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0times, and of the island’s trading contacts with the Middle East and\u00a0the\u00a0Persian Gulf.[5]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/sup><\/strong>Against this background, of course, it is simply unthinkable that anyone could sustain such a snooty interpretation of the story describing\u00a0the\u00a0advent\u00a0of the\u00a0Portuguese.\u00a0Ironware\u00a0and\u00a0wine\u00a0in amphorae were not unfamiliar commodities for either the Maldivians,\u00a0the\u00a0Sinhalese\u00a0or\u00a0the\u00a0peoples\u00a0on\u00a0the\u00a0western\u00a0coast of India.<\/p>\n

A more considered interpretation by a\u00a0leading\u00a0historian, C. R. de Silva, holds that this account marks “the sense of wonder” occasioned by the arrival of exotic newcomers.[6]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>At a seminar held in Perth in\u00a0December\u00a01984, both C. R. de\u00a0Silva and Shelton\u00a0Kodikara\u00a0reiterated\u00a0this understanding in challenging my initial steps in the direction of a new interpretation. Inspired by the challenge, I reaffirm that even a straightforward reading of\u00a0the\u00a0text would suggest that\u00a0the\u00a0story has other\u00a0resonances. The Portuguese\u00a0were\u00a0indeed\u00a0a curious phenomenon, but to restrict one’s interpretation to this point is to perpetuate a distortion. The visual novelty of the Portuguese appearance, I insist, was submerged by other features, such as their restless\u00a0energy\u00a0and\u00a0shattering\u00a0power, their demonic potency and greediness.<\/p>\n

Their\u00a0ironware\u00a0and their thunderous cannon lent added weight to their\u00a0alienness. As\u00a0directed\u00a0by this story, to\u00a0the\u00a0Sinhalese\u00a0of the\u00a0sixteenth\u00a0century, as well as\u00a0those\u00a0of\u00a0subsequent\u00a0centuries, the Portuguese were inhumane and demonic.\u00a0They\u00a0were eaters of\u00a0stone and drinkers of blood.<\/p>\n

I shall now proceed to elaborate upon this sixteenth century Sinhala perception by unpacking the allegorical style of the parable. It is my contention, moreover, that this perception was sustained in subsequent centuries by the poetical and prose works of the Sinhala literati as well as oral traditions. Through these media, elements of this perception have passed down into the twentieth century. It is evident today that in the popular writings the Portuguese are held up as\u00a0greater monsters than the Dutch or British colonial intruders. This is marked out by the manner in which they are\u00a0referred\u00a0to as\u00a0para\u0148gi<\/em>.[7]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>It is not only illustrated in such lurid histories as D. B.\u00a0Dahanayake’s\u00a0La\u1e43k\u0101<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>V\u1e5btt\u0101ntaya<\/em>\u00a0Part I:\u00a0<\/em>Si\u1e43hala<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Saturo<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>(Colombo:\u00a0Gunasena\u00a0& Co, 1964), but even in the prosaic work by K. D. P. Wickramasinha entitled Ap\u0113 Sa\u1e43sk\u1e5btika Urumaya<\/em>\u00a0(Colombo: 1976).[8]<\/strong><\/a><\/p>\n

The Parable Contextualised<\/strong><\/p>\n

In reviewing a legend or a treatise it is customary for scholars to pay a great deal of attention to its composer or author. It is not known who authored\u00a0the\u00a0Alak\u0113\u015bvara<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Yuddhaya<\/em>. Its\u00a0editor, A. V.\u00a0Suraweera, speculates that\u00a0the\u00a0author may\u00a0have\u00a0been\u00a0a Christian\u00a0because\u00a0the work does not begin with the traditional\u00a0namask\u0101ra<\/em>\u00a0(obeisance) to Buddha and because the Christian chronology is\u00a0utilised\u00a0on occasions (an unusual act), but this is by no means certain. Nor do we have any indication as to where the author was located, whether in the territory of the\u00a0Sitawaka\u00a0kingdom, that of\u00a0Kotte\u00a0or that of Kandy. All\u00a0we\u00a0know is that it\u00a0appeared\u00a0around 1592.<\/p>\n

In this instance\u00a0the\u00a0authorship may not,\u00a0however,\u00a0be\u00a0a critical consideration. Because the AY<\/em> incorporated tales from other\u00a0works and from oral traditions, it is in effect the work of many hands. More than its authorship\u00a0we\u00a0have to focus on its\u00a0intended\u00a0readership.\u00a0Because\u00a0it was, as I contend, a folk story related verbally, we have to focus on its audience. This demands an attentiveness to the context of this folk tale: the period when it originated, probably the latter half of the sixteenth century.<\/p>\n

By the third quarter of the sixteenth century, as\u00a0we\u00a0know, the Kingdom of Kotte had split apart. That was not all.\u00a0Bhuvenaka\u00a0Bahu VI had been accidentally\u00a0felled\u00a0by a Portuguese bullet in 1551. His son and heir had become a Portuguese military puppet and his kingdom was propped up by Portuguese military support against the onslaughts of the Sinhalese forces\u00a0led by\u00a0Mayadunne\u00a0and\u00a0Rajasinghe\u00a0I of the Kingdom of\u00a0Sitawaka. At the same time the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0were\u00a0successfully extending the Catholic religion among the people residing in the maritime areas, some of whom were recent immigrants and presumably Tamil or Malayalam speakers. Thus, in the year 1556 on one occasion “more than 70,000\u00a0careas<\/em>\u00a0[Kar\u0101va\u00a0people] with their\u00a0Pantagatim\u00a0[headman]”\u00a0accepted\u00a0the Catholic faith.[9]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Every conversion involved a baptism. In some of the Portuguese colonies it would\u00a0seem\u00a0that baptism involved\u00a0the\u00a0wearing of European vestments. For male converts, this included a cap known as\u00a0carapuca<\/em>\u00a0(a cap which even\u00a0became\u00a0a marker of indigenous converts in everyday life). Those who sponsored the baptisms were expected to\u00a0ensure\u00a0that their\u00a0proteg\u00e9s\u00a0adopted these new\u00a0vestmentary\u00a0insignia.[10]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/sup><\/strong>The\u00a0new dress\u00a0symbolised\u00a0the new person. The question at issue is the\u00a0extent\u00a0to which such practices entered\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0Ceylon. A refernce in Schurhammer\u00a0and\u00a0Voretzch\u00a0indicates that the\u00a0carapuca<\/em>\u00a0was worn by Asian converts in Sri Lanka in the 1540’s and it is significant that\u00a0one\u00a0theory regarding the origin of the label, Topaz<\/em>, meaning “native convert” or “European\u00a0descendant”, argues that it derives from their\u00a0practice\u00a0of wearing\u00a0topi<\/em>\u00a0or hats, so that they were\u00a0called\u00a0topi-walas<\/em>.[11]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

In any case, even if Asian Catholic converts were not marked out by the clothes they wore, the\u00a0incidence\u00a0of mass conversions could not but\u00a0generate\u00a0lasting impressions among the people residing in the maritime districts as well as those in the interior who\u00a0heard about them. It is also known that the Portuguese spread their religion at the point of the sword. The destruction of temples and the seizure of monastic land was one part of this policy.[12]<\/strong><\/a> In a word, then, the advance of Catholicism was at the vanguard of the Portuguese colonial intrusion.<\/p>\n

The symbolic expression of the Catholic religion was its principal ritual, the mass with its sacrament of communion. The communion involved the evocation of the Lord’s Supper, the ingestion of bread and\u00a0wine. In the sixteenth century, or, rather, before Pope Pius X and the Sacred Congregation of the Council issued the Decree on Frequent Communion on the 20th December 1905, it was not the practice of Catholics to receive communion more than once a year.[13]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>Such infrequency notwithstanding, the act of communion was no less central to the faithful than it is today.<\/p>\n

I believe that it is this sacramental act which is allegorically invoked in the legend of the arrival of the Portuguese. The central ritual of\u00a0the\u00a0Catholics\u00a0is depicted in a manner which brings it into disrepute according to the standards upheld by Buddhist ideals. The restless\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0are said to be<\/p>\n

kudugal<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0<\/em><\/strong>sap\u0101kamin<\/em><\/strong>\u00a0l\u0113 bona [<\/em><\/strong>minisun<\/em><\/strong>], <\/em>i.e. people that devour\u00a0<\/em>kudugal<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>and drink blood.<\/p>\n

The key word here is\u00a0kudugal<\/em>\u00a0or “crumbled stone”. It is possible to present an explanation on functionalist and rationalist lines, arguing that the stone had to be presented as soft stone in order to make the story credible. This explanation does not satisfy me. I believe that there is far more to this\u00a0reference\u00a0than\u00a0meets\u00a0the\u00a0eye,\u00a0indeed, that I have not fully uncovered the allegorical possibilities in this regard. In the first place, the question is whether, in the past,\u00a0kudugal<\/em>\u00a0could refer to a “deposit” and in this manner\u00a0point to\u00a0deeper\u00a0meanings,\u00a0meanings relating to\u00a0the\u00a0sacred or to\u00a0essences; it is significant that in Upham’s translation of the\u00a0R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em>\u00a0in the early nineteenth century, a work in which leading scholar-monks participated, the term used is “Budhugal” not\u00a0kudugal<\/em>.[14]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/sup><\/strong>Secondly, in archaic Sinhala\u00a0kudugal<\/em>\u00a0was also a\u00a0synonym\u00a0for mas<\/em> (meat), being\u00a0employed\u00a0in this sense in such fifteenth century works as the Pur\u0101na\u00a0Nam<\/em>\u0101<\/em>valiya<\/em><\/p>\n

And the\u00a0Ruvanmala<\/em>.[15]<\/strong><\/a> For another, the\u00a0Sinhala verbal form used to describe the act of\u00a0consumption in this instance, s<\/em>ap\u0101kanava<\/em>, is normally associated with\u00a0the\u00a0eating\u00a0habits of dogs, hyenas, wolves, monitor lizards and other such animals; and should\u00a0therefore\u00a0be\u00a0read as “to gobble” or “to devour” (not as “eat”).<\/p>\n

It is also used to describe the strike or bite of certain species of\u00a0snakes. Among those whose venomous\u00a0bite\u00a0is\u00a0described\u00a0by this verb is the\u00a0m\u0101pil\u0101<\/em> snake. Significantly, in Sri Lanka\u00a0one\u00a0category of the\u00a0m\u0101pil\u0101<\/em>,\u00a0the\u00a0species\u00a0known as l\u0113<\/em>\u00a0m\u0101pil\u0101 <\/em>(Boiga\u00a0Forsten’s\u00a0or Forsten\u2019s\u00a0snake cat), is widely\u00a0believed\u00a0to\u00a0be\u00a0a snake which does a person to death by sucking blood,\u00a0even\u00a0combining with fellow\u00a0m\u0101pil\u0101<\/em> to\u00a0constitute\u00a0a chain which hangs from\u00a0the roof and proceeds to suck blood from an innocent sleeper. Few Sinhalese have not heard this old wife’s talc. So much so that greedy merchants and\u00a0Shylocks are metaphorically described as\u00a0m\u0101pillo<\/em>. Again,\u00a0few\u00a0Sinhalese\u00a0have not\u00a0been\u00a0informed that\u00a0the\u00a0demons and\u00a0per\u0113tayo<\/em>\u00a0which inhabit the underworld are beings with an\u00a0intense\u00a0craving for flesh and for blood.[16]<\/strong><\/a> Such beings stand for Disorder and Craving. They represent all that is opposed to the Buddhist\u00a0ethic.<\/p>\n

Within\u00a0the\u00a0context of such a\u00a0belief\u00a0system,\u00a0therefore,\u00a0the\u00a0description of the Portuguese in the\u00a0legend\u00a0of their arrival had far-reaching implications: they were being held out as vile, fearsome and ridiculous. To the extent that this representation was understood to\u00a0be\u00a0an embodiment of the Catholic sacrament of communion, the legend also held out the Catholic religion as a phenomenon that was vile.<\/p>\n

The derogatory implications attached to this sentence may<\/em> conceivably have been underlined<\/p>\n

by\u00a0the\u00a0reference\u00a0to the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0in the third person plural as \u201cung\u0113<\/em>\u201d. This is, admittedly, a problematical item of evidence.\u00a0Today, such a form of\u00a0reference\u00a0would usually\u00a0be\u00a0pejorative\u00a0in its implications. But in classical\u00a0literature\u00a0in the past the term was widely\u00a0utilized\u00a0in a\u00a0neutral\u00a0descriptive sense.[17]<\/strong><\/a> If\u00a0the\u00a0AY<\/em> and\u00a0R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em>\u00a0were unequivocally classical there would\u00a0be\u00a0no doubt that the latter interpretation would hold. But the fact is that they partake of both classical and popular styles and that\u00a0the\u00a0inclusion\u00a0of folk\u00a0tales\u00a0has given scope for the entry of colloquialisms.\u00a0Unfortunately,\u00a0we\u00a0have no means of ascertaining whether “un<\/em>” carried disparaging meanings in oral discourse in the sixteenth century.<\/p>\n

Pursuing a suggestion mooted by\u00a0Haris\u00a0de Silva, it is possible to inquire whether un<\/em> was used widely in other parts of the AY<\/em> and\u00a0R\u0101j\u0101valiya<\/em>, and in what manner it was\u00a0deployed. My preliminary investigation indicates that the term was\u00a0used\u00a0on\u00a0only five other occasions. On one occasion in the RV<\/em> (page\u00a0220)\u00a0the\u00a0reference\u00a0was again to\u00a0the\u00a0Portuguese; on another (page 158) it was to\u00a0mice\u00a0and frogs; and on the third and fourth occasions, within the\u00a0same\u00a0paragraph on page 72,\u00a0the\u00a0references\u00a0are to\u00a0the\u00a0Kaka\u00a0Mukkaru\u00a0and to\u00a0Tamils.[18]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>On the only occasion in which un<\/em> is employed in the AY<\/em>, it is in\u00a0the\u00a0context of\u00a0the\u00a0Vijayab\u0101<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Kolah\u0101laya<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0refers\u00a0to the activities of\u00a0the\u00a0three\u00a0sons who killed their father and\u00a0sized\u00a0the throne. This\u00a0evidence\u00a0is by no\u00a0means conclusive and will\u00a0have\u00a0to\u00a0be\u00a0supplemented\u00a0by a closer reading of\u00a0these\u00a0texts by those who are more expert than I am in this sort of work, a reading which attends to other ways in which\u00a0the\u00a0third person is rendered. On balance, it would appear that there is some disparagement attached to the pronoun which has been selected for the Portuguese within the story about their arrival.<\/p>\n

In any event,\u00a0the\u00a0derogatory implication of the devouring meat, drinking blood episode was driven home within the legend by the allegorical\u00a0sentence\u00a0that follows: “they\u00a0give two or three\u00a0pieces\u00a0of gold and silver for\u00a0one\u00a0fish or one lime”. Lime may have been much desired by ancient seafarers as an\u00a0antidote\u00a0for scurvy. But why did\u00a0the\u00a0legend\u00a0focus on fish and lime rather than, say, vegetables? Why\u00a0emphasize\u00a0the\u00a0extent\u00a0to which\u00a0the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0desired such items?<\/p>\n

As with meat, fish is a food\u00a0item\u00a0that is\u00a0depreciated\u00a0by Buddhist ethics:\u00a0apart from\u00a0the\u00a0fact that it is\u00a0possible\u00a0to cite texts which\u00a0emphasize\u00a0the\u00a0injunction against the killing of fish,[19]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>there is no doubt that the spirit of the Buddhist doctrines runs counter to such practices; and among the popular beliefs that prevail in southern Sri Lanka today is the story that the Buddha visited all but two of the eighteen castes during his visitations to the island, the two exceptions being those whose typified<\/em> occupational tasks involved the killing of fish and the killing of lice.[20]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>To the degree that the Portuguese and the Catholics in Sri Lanka had been enjoined to partake of fish on Fridays, this particular selection within the story of the Portuguese arrival gains added weight as an\u00a0elliptical\u00a0reference\u00a0that held them up in a disparaging way.<\/p>\n

And lime? This, I assert, was not picked out by happenchance. In the popular culture of the Sinhalese, lime is used as a protection against sorcery and demons. This capacity, I believe, as in the case of many antidotes the\u00a0Dehi<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Upata<\/em>, or “The Story of the Birth of Limes”,\u00a0recorded by Hugh\u00a0Nevill, one finds\u00a0O\u1e0d\u1e0disa\u00a0Kum\u0101ra\u00a0using limes to break a spell cast by\u00a0Vasavatu<\/em>\u00a0(that is\u00a0Vasavarti<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>M\u0101ray\u0101<\/em>).[21]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>Furthermore,\u00a0dehi<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>p\u00e4\u0148giri<\/em>, or lime shreds, are popularly associated with the smell of the viper, the dreaded\u00a0pola\u0148g\u0101<\/em>.[22]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>The viper in its turn is associated with the\u00a0H\u016bniya\u1e43<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>Yak\u0101<\/em>, a powerful\u00a0d\u0113vat\u0101v\u0101<\/em>\u00a0(godling) who can take either godlike or demonic form. Thus, traditional representations of\u00a0H\u016bniya\u1e43<\/em>\u00a0(or\u00a0S\u016bniya\u1e43<\/em>) depict the\u00a0yak\u0101<\/em>\u00a0with vipers in his mouth.\u00a0H\u016bniya\u1e43<\/em>\u00a0in his turn is an avatar of Vasavarti<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>M\u0101ray\u0101<\/em>,\u00a0the\u00a0original\u00a0Tempter\u00a0or\u00a0Force\u00a0who attempted to\u00a0prevent\u00a0Buddha from achieving nirv\u0101na<\/em>. Thus, in “The Story of the\u00a0Mah\u0101sammata<\/em>” one finds\u00a0Vasavarti<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>M\u0101ray\u0101<\/em> creating a viper in order to attack\u00a0M\u00e4nik\u00a0Biso,\u00a0the\u00a0wife\u00a0of\u00a0Mah\u0101sammata<\/em> (the Great Elect, whom\u00a0we\u00a0can think of as a\u00a0primordial king in the Buddhist\u00a0Therav\u0101da\u00a0tradition).[23]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

Finally, the legend of the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0arrival ends by referring to the threat posed to\u00a0Yugandhara<\/em>\u00a0by their\u00a0cannon.\u00a0Yugandhara<\/em>\u00a0is\u00a0the\u00a0first of\u00a0the\u00a0seven\u00a0mountains around Mount\u00a0M\u0113ru\u00a0or Mah\u0101\u00a0<\/em>M\u0113ru<\/em>,\u00a0the\u00a0cosmic\u00a0centre\u00a0of\u00a0the world and, as such, a sacred\u00a0centre\u00a0that epitomizes Harmony. Thus, here, the Portuguese arc presented as a force with the thunderous capacity to shatter this centripetal, harmonic order.<\/p>\n

Towards a Holistic and Imaginative Interpretation<\/strong>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

\u00a0<\/strong>In attempting to provide a revision in\u00a0the\u00a0reading of the story of the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0arrival, I have\u00a0been\u00a0forced to dissect the text in piecemeal fashion, one step at a time. These steps should not<\/em> be\u00a0seen\u00a0as links in a chain. Rather, the general direction in which\u00a0each\u00a0of\u00a0them points must\u00a0be\u00a0evaluated in a holistic manner. This evaluation must\u00a0consider\u00a0the\u00a0likelihood that it is, indeed, an allegorical folk tale. This evaluation must\u00a0therefore\u00a0be sociologically imaginative.<\/p>\n

In contending in this holistic and\u00a0imaginative\u00a0manner that\u00a0the\u00a0story of the arrival of the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0is a representation of the primordial Portuguese which is as hostile as allegorical, I am aware that I am challenging the traditional modes of interpreting this tale (see\u00a0above: p. 70). These latter\u00a0have\u00a0relied on a straightforward reading of the text. They\u00a0have\u00a0been\u00a0especially influenced by the description of the\u00a0Portuguese\u00a0in the first sentence of the story: “A race of people fair of skin and comely withal”. This is a highly\u00a0favorable\u00a0picture of the newcomers,\u00a0quite\u00a0unlike the representations in the\u00a0seventeenth\u00a0century war poems or\u00a0the\u00a0C\u016blava\u1e43sa<\/em>,\u00a0where\u00a0the\u00a0Portuguese arc depicted in polemical language as all that was evil.[24]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>The contrast raises suspicions. The suspicion increases when one recalls that in\u00a0tovil<\/em>\u00a0(exorcisms) and other stories within the Sinhala Buddhist tradition the\u00a0demons\u00a0and other Tempters\u00a0often\u00a0make\u00a0their initial appearance in other forms. They are masters of false appearances, veritable Tricksters. It is part of the logic of each\u00a0exorcist ceremony for the specialists to unveil this facade and to trick the Trickster,\u00a0thereby\u00a0holding him up for\u00a0ridicule.[25]<\/strong><\/a>\u00a0<\/strong><\/p>\n

In the text under our scrutiny this process of unveiling seems to begin with the second sentence:\u00a0vigasak<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>eka<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>t\u00e4naka<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>nosita<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>sakman<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>karanav\u0101ya<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>kiyat<\/em>\u00a0(it\u00a0is said that they rest not a minute in one place). Apart from the fact that restlessness is viewed with\u00a0disfavour\u00a0in Sinhala Buddhist thinking, the word “sakman<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>karanav\u0101ya<\/em>” is perhaps indicative of something abnormal. I am aware that in recent times it could be used as a synonym for \u201coba<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>moba<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>\u00e4vidhinava<\/em>\u201d (pacing meditatively), a phrase that is attached to ordinary people’s restless tread. But even today\u00a0sakman<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>karanav\u0101ya<\/em>\u00a0can be deployed more specifically: to\u00a0describe\u00a0the\u00a0measured\u00a0tread of royalty or the\u00a0meditative\u00a0walk of Buddhist monks. Oba\u00a0<\/em>moba<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>\u00e4vidhinava<\/em>\u00a0would be totally\u00a0inappropriate\u00a0for the latter, and if\u00a0used\u00a0to describe a specific monk’s style of proceeding, would be wholly condemnatory. Contrariwise, to say \u201cchandiy\u014d<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>sakman<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>karagena<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>sititi<\/em>\u201d (the thugs are pacing restlessly) could bear an ironic twist and, through this implication, raise suggestions of incongruity. That is why I regard the\u00a0vigasak<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>eka<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>t\u00e4naka<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>nosita<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>sakman<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>karanav\u0101ya<\/em>\u00a0sentence as a question raising hint which heralds the allegorical unveiling of the true character of the Portuguese in the rest of the text.<\/p>\n

In seeking to unveil these hidden motifs I am in effect challenging the methodologies which have dominated the work of historians in Sri Lanka during the twentieth century. The point is that twentieth century historiography, whether\u00a0practised\u00a0by historians or Oriental scholars delving into the history of their literature, has been dominated by empiricist rationalism.\u00a0The\u00a0methodology associated with this philosophy has undoubtedly yielded many benefits and remains pertinent to the scholarly\u00a0endeavour. But it also\u00a0has its blind spots. It has distanced several generations of scholars from the world view of the\u00a0Sinhalese\u00a0and other Asian peoples in the precolonial and early colonial epochs. It has hindered the deciphering of myths, legends, folk tales and\u00a0t\u0113ravila<\/em>\u00a0(riddles in verse). The positivist standards of evaluation\u00a0favoured\u00a0by the school of British empiricism, in brief, have been hostile to approaches which cleave to imaginative and speculative paths that are of a different order to their inferential reasoning.\u00a0One index of this hostility has been the immediate response to the oral presentation of my thesis at seminars.[26]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>In continuing to confront this opposition, therefore, my essay raises a fundamental issue for historiography, one that reaches beyond the shores of Sri Lanka. In this thrust it joins the work of\u00a0Gananath\u00a0Obeyesekere, whose book The Cult of the Goddess\u00a0<\/em>Pattini<\/em>\u00a0(1984) has been hailed by David Shulman as a work which carries “a\u00a0messagc\u00a0full of meaning for the historian who\u00a0seeks\u00a0to analyze change and cultural development”; for it decimates the historians’ traditional practice of picking “reasonable” elements out of myth and argues for a “more imaginative interpretation<\/em>” which uses a broad variety of sources and does not rest upon the assumption that\u00a0written, recorded material is necessarily the most significant<\/em> data.[27]<\/a><\/p>\n

With these caveats, I am now in a position to present a concluding elaboration of my re-interpretation of the story about the Portuguese\u00a0arrival. To reiterate, the reading of this\u00a0tale must be both holistic and\u00a0imaginative. It must be alive to the riddles and symbolic forms, as well as the nature\u00a0motifs,\u00a0that permeate the Sinhala genres known as\u00a0sivpada<\/em>\u00a0and\u00a0t\u0113ravila<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>kavi<\/em>.[28]<\/a>\u00a0<\/sup>Appraised in such a light, I believe that this story represents the Portuguese Catholics as restless, meat-craving, demonic beings; as phenomena of the\u00a0same order as\u00a0Vasavarti<\/em>\u00a0<\/em>M\u0101ray\u0101<\/em>, alias\u00a0H\u016bniya\u1e43<\/em>, sorcerer extraordinary, the embodiment of Evil.<\/p>\n

Thus appraised as a\u00a0genesis\u00a0story which employs allegorical modes to achieve a didactic purpose, the story generates a series of ‘simple’\u00a0oppositions:<\/p>\n