Anthems have truly only one purpose – to instil patriotism and nationalism in citizens at a time of need. This time of need can range anywhere from a cricket match to a rallying cry to support troops fighting for the territorial integrity of a country (which in Sri Lanka has rarely coincided with the former). In Sri Lanka, the flip side of a national lethargy where for instance, deadlines are passé and only upheld by social pariahs who value time, is the militant fervour with which symbols of Sinhala hegemony are protected. The flag, the national anthem, the constitution wherein the status of Buddhism is enshrined – all three are inextricably entwined in a complex dynamic that has influenced polity and society since independence in 1948. This has led to tragicomic situations, where even the seemingly benign news of an official re-recording of the national anthem can result in presidential decrees and political acrimony.
Breaking away from colonial rule in the late 1940s, the people of Sri Lanka were kindled with patriotic fervour. Of course, one of the first steps of any new nation-state in the postcolonial world was to find a lyric expression of its status of independence. After a competition, Ananda Samarakoon's composition Namo Namo Matha was chosen as the national anthem on 22 November 1951. The first public rendering of the national anthem was made on Independence Day 4 February 1952 by a group of 500 students from Museus College, Colombo and was broadcast over the radio. History does not record how many people listened.
A national anthem is predicated on the existence of one pivotal element, the nation. A nation is commonly considered to be a group of people bound together by language, culture, or some other common heritage and is usually recognised as a political entity. Ordinarily the word nation is used synonymously with country or state; however, it does imply more than just a territory delineated by boundaries. A nation could also signify a group consciousness of a shared history, race, language or system of values. Sri Lanka thinks not – its history has been coloured by the systematic and calculated repression of the aspirations of minority communities and groups, something that rabid chauvinists neglect to remember.
State symbols often celebrate and commemorate a history of cruelty, injustice, and exclusion. Strangely missing from the history of the national anthem in Sri Lanka is any recognition of a shared destiny. Although a national anthem should ideally stand for national unity, in Sri Lanka, it embodies the perverse tragedies of the past – every time it is sung it is an inadvertent recognition of the politics that have plagued the country for over half a century. This profoundly regrettable legacy of suffering and discrimination is couched in lyrics which stand aloof from the need to find unity in diversity – a key element of a pluralistic society that Sri Lanka has not been able to establish. More than amnesia in verse, Namo Namo Matha is a harmonious perpetuation of partisan politics that has left the country grappling with the after-effects of a protracted civil war.