Devas, Demons and Buddhist Cosmology in Sri Lanka: Apotheosis and the Spiritual Progression of Hūniyam 9781032192666, 9781032192697, 9781003258483

Table of contents :
Cover
Half Title
Series Page
Title Page
Copyright Page
Table of Contents
List of illustrations
Foreword
Acknowledgments
Chapter 1: Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka
Deva and demon worship
Devas
Indigenous devas
Saman
Uppalavaṇṇa
Demons
Sammuti-deva and the concept of apotheosis in Sri Lanka
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 2: Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam
Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple
Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple
Case study one
Case study two
Case study three
Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo
Nānumura mangalya
Case study one
Case study two
Case study three
Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella
Case study one
Case study two
Hūniyam Dēvālaya at Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy
Case study one
Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa
Case study one
Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya
Case study one
Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya
Case study one
Case study two
Case study three
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 3: Iconography of Hūniyam
Hūniyam as a malevolent deity
Hūniyam as a deity in transition
Hūniyam as a benevolent deity
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 4: Historical context
Anurādhapura period
Invasions
Devas and demons
Pattinı̄
Kataragama
Poḷonnaruwa and Dambadeniya periods
Kalinga invasion and Kālı̄
Muslim king becomes a syncretic demon
Tambralinga invasion and Nātha
Fragmentation of power
Conservative resistance
Apotheosis of a Kōṭṭe prince
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 5: European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms
Kōṭṭe and the Portuguese versus Sı̄tāwaka
Hindu influence in the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom
Portuguese Kōṭṭe versus the Kandyan Kingdom
Dutch colonial period and the Kandyan Kingdom: (1658–1798)
Indian immigrants among the general population
Nāyakkar rule and South Indian influence
Apotheoses and Sammuti-devas of the Kandyan Kingdom
British colonialism and the fall of the Kandyan Kingdom
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 6: From British hegemony to the modern era
British colonial rule
Independence and the modern era
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 7: The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa
A new leading actor
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 8: Hūniyam as an invader
A likely candidate
A common legend of Hūniyam
Tales of South Indian braggarts and interlopers
Hūniyam as the interloper par excellence
Conclusion
Notes
Bibliography
Chapter 9: Conclusion
The fieldwork
Proposed future research
Note
Bibliography
Primary sources and translations
Secondary sources
Interviews and correspondence
Index

Citation preview

Devas, Demons and Buddhist Cosmology in Sri Lanka

This book examines the worship of devas and demons in Sri Lanka, illustrating how diverse influences interacted to create the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. The work explains the processes by which apotheosis plays an important role in revitalizing that cosmology. The author offers an examination of holy sites associated with the worship of Hūniyam. These sacred spaces each have a unique background historically, and the ritualists associated with these sites have divergent understandings concerning Hūniyam. Building upon the examination of the temples, the book delves into the iconography of Hūniyam, illustrating his transformation from demon to deity in the manner that he is depicted in imagery associated with his worship. The book moves to a discussion of Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, a South Indian adventurer, demonstrating the likelihood that he is the historical figure later apotheosized as Hūniyam. Sri Lankan society felt his impact so strongly that in death he became a demon in the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. Finally, the book demonstrates that the same apotheosis processes are at work today. This book will be of interest to researchers and students engaged in the study of religion, anthropology, folklore, and history, specifically in the South Asian context. Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell is the assistant editor of the US Department of the Air Force’s Journal of Indo-Pacific Affairs. She also serves as an adjunct assistant professor for the University of Alabama at Birmingham and Troy University, USA. She received her PhD in Languages and Cultures of Asia from the University of Wisconsin–Madison.

Routledge South Asian Religion Series

15. Muslim Communities and Cultures of the Himalayas Conceptualizing the Global Ummah Edited by Jacqueline H. Fewkes and Megan Adamson Sijapati 16. Spaces of Religion in Urban South Asia Edited by István Keul 17. Religion and the City in India Edited by Supriya Chaudhuri 18. Religiosity in Contemporary Sri Lanka Multi-religious Innovation, Paradoxical Interaction, and Shared Religious Spaces Edited by Mark P. Whitaker, Darini Rajasingham-Senanyake, and Sanmugeswaran Pathmanesan 19. Non-Shia Practices of Muḥarram in South Asia and the Diaspora Beyond Mourning Edited by Pushkar Sohoni and Torsten Tschacher 20. The Transformation of Tamil Religion Ramalinga Swamigal (1823–1874) and Modern Dravidian Sainthood By Srilata Raman 21. Popular Hinduism, Stories and Mobile Performances The Voice of Morari Bapu in Multiple Media By Mrinal Pande 22. Devas, Demons and Buddhist Cosmology in Sri Lanka Apotheosis and the Spiritual Progression of Hūniyam By Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell 23. Religious Authority in South Asia Generating the Guru Edited by Istvan Keul and Srilata Raman

Devas, Demons and Buddhist Cosmology in Sri Lanka Apotheosis and the Spiritual Progression of Hūniyam Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell

First published 2023 by Routledge 4 Park Square, Milton Park, Abingdon, Oxon OX14 4RN and by Routledge 605 Third Avenue, New York, NY 10158 Routledge is an imprint of the Taylor & Francis Group, an informa business © 2023 Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell The right of Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell to be identified as author[/s] of this work has been asserted in accordance with sections 77 and 78 of the Copyright, Designs and Patents Act 1988. All rights reserved. No part of this book may be reprinted or reproduced or utilised in any form or by any electronic, mechanical, or other means, now known or hereafter invented, including photocopying and recording, or in any information storage or retrieval system, without permission in writing from the publishers. Trademark notice: Product or corporate names may be trademarks or registered trademarks, and are used only for identification and explanation without intent to infringe. British Library Cataloguing-in-Publication Data A catalogue record for this book is available from the British Library Library of Congress Cataloging-in-Publication Data A catalog record has been requested for this book ISBN: 978-1-032-19266-6 (hbk) ISBN: 978-1-032-19269-7 (pbk) ISBN: 978-1-003-25848-3 (ebk) DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483 Typeset in Times New Roman by SPi Technologies India Pvt Ltd (Straive)

Contents

List of illustrations Foreword Acknowledgments 1 Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka

vi viii xxii 1

2 Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam 15 3 Iconography of Hūniyam 42 4 Historical context

64

5 European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms

78

6 From British hegemony to the modern era

103

7 The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa 112 8 Hūniyam as an invader

117

9 Conclusion

130

Bibliography Index

137 145

List of illustrations

3.1

Both malevolent and benevolent Hūniyam statues (clay and plaster) and pictures displayed at Divinuvara Temple. The pictures are printed at a modern printing press. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 44 3.2 A white Hūniyam statue made of plaster manifesting his malevolent form at the Baseline Road Temple. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 46 3.3 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Lunava. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 47 3.4 Malevolent Hūniyam (clay) at Belanvila. (Photo by Dr. Sudath Gunasekara.) 47 3.5 Watuka Yakkā (painting) at Belanvila. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 49 3.6 Malevolent form of Hūniyam (painting) at Nātha dēvāla. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 49 3.7 Malevolent Hūniyam (metal) at Lunava. Side view. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 50 3.8 Malevolent form of Hūniyam (clay) at Aembawa. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 51 3.9 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Boralla. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 52 3.10 Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at Borella. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 53 3.11 Hūniyam mural (print) at Borella. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 54 3.12 Benevolent Hūniyam (bronze) at Belanvila. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 55 3.13 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Borella. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 56 3.14 The main Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at the Baseline Temple. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 57 3.15 Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at Kandy Nātha dēvālaya. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 58

List of illustrations  vii 3.16 A common benevolent Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster). Baseline Road Temple, Colombo. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 59 3.17 Hūniyam statue (plaster and clay) at Belanvila Temple. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 59 3.18 Benevolent Hūniyam (painting) at Käbälläva, Aembawa. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 60 3.19 Benevolent Hūniyam at Käbälläva, Aembawa. Weerakkody Kapumahatya is standing next to the Hūniyam statue (clay). (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 61 9.1 Kı̄rthi Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha at Lankatilaka. (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.) 133

Foreword

When I was a little girl, my Amma used to go to various temples. Since I was the youngest child of the family, whether I liked it or not I had to accompany her. When Amma visited these temples, she met priests at the dēvālaya, the Sinhala term for a shrine, and discussed various things. Amma never said that we are going to the dēvālaya. Instead, she always said that we are going to the temple. Whenever we visited the temple Amma spent the majority of her time at the dēvālaya. At school, I learned that in Buddhism the Buddha is the supreme spiritual being in the faith and all the deities are subservient to the Buddha. We learned that devas are not immortal. Devas live a long life, ranging from thousands to billions of years and when they pass away, they are reborn as some other sort of being, perhaps a different type of deva, perhaps a human. I also learned that Buddhist devas are not morally perfect. They lack human passions and desires, but some of them are capable of ignorance, arrogance, and pride. Some devas experience the same kind of passions that humans do, including lust, jealousy, and anger. Amma believed in Buddhism. However, it always puzzled my young mind that each time we went to the temple she offered the flowers to the Buddha and then hurried to the dēvālaya. One day when I asked her why she worships deities that are subservient to the Buddha in the Buddhist pantheon, she said the kapumahtaya, a priest who serves Buddhist deities, is conducting a special ritual for Appachchi’s promotion and performing a blessing for my brother to pass his exam with distinction. She believed devas would take care of us in this regard. I know Appachchi had a very different view regarding religion than Amma did. He always said that if his ministry head goes overseas, the second-in-command will sign the paperwork and he will get the promotion, and if my brother studies hard and avoids being lazy, he would get good grades. None of Appachchi’s opinions stopped Amma’s belief in the power of deities. Ever since my childhood, I wondered about the deities and the power they hold within Sinhala Buddhism in Sri Lanka. While I was learning at school that gods do not exist in Buddhism, my observations, even as a small child, told me that Buddhists did worship deities. Obviously, at that age I did not understand the distinction between theological religion and folk religion, and this paradox between what was being taught and what was actually being

Foreword  ix practiced aroused my curiosity. I knew Amma went to the temple with high hopes. When Appachchi did not receive his promotion and when my brother did not pass his exams with flying colors, Amma rushed to the temple. Amma was advised to go and seek help from a fortuneteller recommended by the kapumahatya. Amma and I went to see the fortuneteller. She told us that someone is jealous of our family’s success, and they had performed a hūniyam upon our family. According to the fortuneteller, this was the reason why my father did not receive the promotion and why my brother did not pass the exam with distinction. I was in the sixth grade when I was first cognizant of such experiences, and I was alarmed to learn that people can call upon a deity to perform harmful acts against others. Amma started to run from one temple to another, one fortuneteller to another. A Buddhist priest very dear to our family concurred with the opinion that someone had performed a hūniyam and he promised Amma he would take care of this evil act. He used to offer our family ritually blessed coconuts and said that drinking them would destroy the evil spirit that our adversary had called down upon us. I went to visit many temples and various fortunetellers with Amma. When they predicted the future or when they said what was happening with our family at the moment, I was amazed to witness what they could see without knowing our family. Even though I was raised as a Theravāda Buddhist, after listening to a large number of fortunetellers telling Amma about our family and the physical descriptions of the people who had done evil to our family, I started to grow interested in the folk Buddhist practices that seemed to permeate the faith. As time passed by, I had the opportunity to study Buddhism from a deeper perspective and I always thought of studying the folk practices, especially the power of supernatural beings such as Hūniyam. When I entered graduate school for the second time, I had the opportunity to study gods and goddesses of South Asia, and this dissertation started as a shorter work for a seminar class I took at the University of Wisconsin, Madison with my advisor, Professor Gudrun Bühnemann. After studying Telugu and finding the links between the Telugu-speaking Nāyakkar dynasty and the Kandyan Kingdom, I recognized a link with Hūniyam, and was determined that, having all the valuable opportunities at the tip of my fingers, I must study this topic deeper. It has been amusing to see the response of some of my friends and peers to my chosen topic, as many of them have thought it a bit peculiar for me to be studying a deity so in touch with the darker side of spirituality, as though some of his power might have come to me in the offing. One summer my husband and I had just returned from a trip to Sri Lanka. One day we were sitting at the dining table discussing what I wanted to write for the research paper for the Gods and Goddesses class. My husband said he had found a book in the garage about a deity in Sri Lanka that I had brought from Sri Lanka and suggested that I look at it. He mentioned that the picture on the front page of the book was somewhat interesting. It was, of course, Hūniyam. That got the ball rolling, so to speak.

x Foreword Oh, the god who is holding a copper book in his right hand and a trident in his left hand; wearing a white jatāwa [a cloth headwear similar to a Sikh turban] and a white cloth across his shoulder; with a white horse as his vehicle; following Brahma’s word in protecting villages; with handsome sideburns, handsome godly-looking king! Please accept these flowers, beetle leaves, incense, fruits, and pahana [a small clay lamp lit with a cotton wick and coconut oil] as thanksgivings for your great service that we are offering you from the top of our head and listen to our supplications and fulfill our needs; bring peace among your supplicants’ neighbors, protect them from theft and protect them!1 The above is a supplication to the powerful supernatural entity Hūniyam conducted by a kapurāla at a shrine located in a Buddhist temple in Sri Lanka. Among other things, Hūniyam is known as a deity willing to protect village boundaries (gam kotuwa, grāma de ̄vatā), and plays the role of gamba ̄ra deviyo (deity in charge of the village). People who worship Hūniyam believe that, on one hand, he may take care of them like a father, and on the other could bring harm, even death. Gananath Obeyesekere states when an inferior deity passes into divine status, he may retain some pejorative identity in his name, which is initially resolved by giving him an alias or a prefix that qualifies his former name; or he may be given a totally new name. Above we have a case where the near defunct category gra ̄ma dēvatā is resurrected as an alias to Hūniyam, previously considered an iṣṭa deva concerned with protecting individuals rather than communities, largely to resolve the language discrepancy that arises from labeling a sorcery deity as a god. Obeyesekere believes that as the importance of Hūniyam increases, as is certainly happening in urban Sri Lanka, the term Hūniyam will wither away, leaving the alias Gambāra Deviyo as the predominant term in the set, eventually displacing the earlier identity completely. He also believes the term Hūniyam must lose its pejorative connotation if it is going to designate a god.2

Methodology The methodology used in this study is mainly twofold: ethnographic field study and textual study, the latter in English, Sinhala, and Pāli mediums. The first step was a thorough review of available literature including the latest publications and the internet. The second part was an in-depth ethnographic study of those who incorporate Hūniyam into their religious practices. The existing research pertaining to Hūniyam has focused primarily on southern Sri Lanka and his worship among the lowland Sinhalese of that region. As previous researchers have overwhelmingly focused their attentions on the larger shrines and the roles Hūniyam plays in ritual, it was my intent to shift that focus to newer temples and those in the central region of the island and to explore issues of historical genesis, apotheosis, and transformation. Although several works are available at present on Hūniyam, no

Foreword  xi comprehensive study, covering his origin, evolution in worship in space and time, regional variants of worship practices, the process of his transition from demon to deva, and the sociological and historical place in Sri Lankan society had previously been undertaken. I attempted to track down the court records of the Nāyakkar kings of Kandy, but, to my dismay, learned that most of the documents had been destroyed by the various invasions of the kingdom by the European colonial powers: Portuguese, Dutch, and English. This would certainly have been a tremendous asset to the study, but, lacking these, I have relied on secondary sources familiar with the period. For the purpose of this study, I visited Sri Lanka in December of 2009 for four weeks, August of 2010 for three weeks, and three weeks in July of 2011. Through ethnographic field research and interviews conducted largely in Sri Lanka with practitioners and the associated priestly officers of the sect, I will paint a more thorough and nuanced depiction of this divine entity in flux. I will expand upon the work of the few scholars who have delved into this deity by focusing on the practices in the central part of the island and examining the impact of the various social changes in Sri Lankan culture over the past two to three decades. These include an ethnic war between the Sinhalese and Tamils; urbanization of a predominantly rural-oriented culture; and issues of globalization. The primary purpose of this study is to fill this gap, while mainly examining the enigma of his transition from demon to deva.

Background of the study Among Sri Lankans deva worship, the worship of deities, is a very popular complex of rituals inherited from pre-Buddhist times and constantly reinforced by influences from the subcontinent. If one examines the oldest extant chronicle of Sri Lanka, the Mahāvaṃ sa, we find that the Buddha entrusted the care of his religion, which he predicted would survive only in Sri Lanka, to Śakra, the king of gods. The latter in turn transferred the responsibility of protecting the religion to Uppalavaṇṇa, an ancient autochthonous deity of the Sinhala pantheon in pre-Buddhist days who was later identified with the Hindu deity Viṣṇu in a manner closely akin to Srinivas’ notion of Sanskritization. The same text also states that there are four deities regarded as the guardians of the Buddhist teaching on the island. They are Uppalavaṇṇa, Saman, Kataragama, and Vibhı̄ṣaṇa, each of whom has corresponding Hindu identities.3 Although the Mahāvaṃ sa was purportedly first written down by the monk Mahānāma in the fifth century CE, Buddhist monks and laity up to this very day have continuously updated it, and its oral traditions extend much deeper into ancient Sinhala folklore. As such, when one approaches the text from a hermeneutical perspective, passages pertaining to the Buddha’s interaction with the deities of the indigenous and/or Hindu pantheons are demonstrative of the longstanding acceptance of essentially non-Buddhist deities into the tradition.

xii Foreword While some have argued that Buddhism is a spiritual philosophy ostensibly devoid of a deity, it is well documented that Sinhala Buddhists incorporated Hindu deities into their religion and that other, autochthonous Sinhala deities have been both Sanskritized and incorporated into the Buddhist pantheon as well. The Sinhalese have worshiped these deities, both indigenous and émigré, from time immemorial. Apart from the four guardian deities in Sri Lanka, there is a vast array of other deities and demons that have had a significant impact on the people. Many Sri Lankans believe that these demons and deities have the power to make one sick, sometimes permanently paralyzed, or even cause death if not properly propitiated. In Sri Lanka, Hūniyam is associated with sorcery, both white and black magic; with being a village protector deity; and with astrology. Previously associated with the cult of Pattinı̄, Hūniyam now often figures prominently in many rituals, especially those that advocate goodwill toward the village. He is a multifaceted entity viewed by some as a god and others as a demon, although sometimes the distinction is somewhat difficult to differentiate. Hūniyam, like many deities, often grants favors to his devotees, and is frequently seen as the cause of misfortune among those who fail to propitiate him properly. Sri Lankans tend to believe that because this god was once a human, he has a compassionate soul and he may be forgiving toward some. His origins, deeply intertwined with the sorcery of Sri Lanka, are of somewhat dubious ancestry with some sources indicating an indigenous genealogy from among the yakkās (demons) of the island and other sources pointing toward his possible incorporation into the Buddhist pantheon from immigrant roots among one of the many Indian groups who have migrated to Sri Lanka over the centuries. However, like his Indian peers Gaṇeśh and Kubera before him, his persona is transforming into that of a deity. Black magic is known as hūniyam, kodivina, or vina among the people of Sri Lanka. It is impossible to determine with any degree of certainty how old this form of magic is. However, it is believed to have been prevalent among the Sinhalese from very ancient times. There is a certain belief among the present-day Sinhalese that black magic of a very dangerous kind was introduced by the immigrants from South India who are supposed to be very skilled practitioners of this occult art. That is the popular theory to give credence to the effectiveness of the art. However, Nandadēva Wijesekera states that an ancient legend accounts for Hūniyam charms introduced from India.4 The etymology given in the Sinhala dictionaries is “sunya karma” act of nullification, and the yakkā/dēvatāva associated with such black magic is Hūniyam/Sūniyam. According to the famous Sri Lankan folklorist, Nandasena Ratnapala, even though the hūniyama practice is equally distributed in the various parts of Sri Lanka, traditions of Hūniyam yakkā vary from place to place. Ratnapala states there are some shrines specifically dedicated to Hūniyam; however, Hūniyam often shares other shrines with other deities in the same shrines.

Foreword  xiii There are several small shrines dedicated to Hūniyam in Sri Lanka. One major shrine is located in Käbälläva, about 35 kilometers from Chilaw. It was established in the 1920s as the first temple devoted solely to Hūniyam. Another major temple is found on Baseline Road, Colombo. It was established in 1958 amidst a mixed ethnic neighborhood tending toward the very sort of folk religion that Hūniyam factors in so prominently.

The derivation of hūniyam/sūniyam The linguistic origins of the name Hūniyam are, like the figure himself, shrouded in mystery. Scholars seem not to agree as to whether we ought to look for an Indo-Aryan or Dravidian origin; thus, muddling the investigation into his genealogy and derivation. This problem is not unique to Hūniyam. If we look at the tale of Prince Vijaya,5 there is a similar disagreement over the lineage of the Sinhala language itself. Some scholars argue that it is more closely related to the Western Indo-Aryan language; others argue it is more akin to the Eastern Indo-Aryan languages; and still others claim it is not even Indo-Aryan. One of the strongest evidences for a significant North Indo-Aryan migration to Sri Lanka in ancient times is the relationship of the Sinhala language to the various Indo-European languages. The fact that Sinhala is an IndoAryan language is nearly universally accepted within the ranks of academia. The main argument seems to focus upon whether the language is more closely related to the languages of eastern or western India. As M.W.S. de Silva has stated, The non-linguistic evidence for both hypotheses has been based on the identification of the place names mentioned in the chronicles [i.e., Dı ̄pavaṃ sa and Mahāvaṃ sa]. The main point of controversy has been the identification of Lāt ̣a which has been given as Vijaya’s homeland.6 The faction supporting the western origin places the location in Lāt ̣a in Gujarat, and the eastern proponents place it in Bengal. However, based upon the other locations mentioned in the tale, only the western hypothesis seems to make any sense, and most linguistic evidence seems to support this notion as well. This is not to say that there are not elements of the eastern dialects in the language as well, but they are not as prominent as the western. Indeed, the well-respected scholar A.L. Basham has gone so far as to posit the theory that Sinhala has a certain degree of influence from Indo-Iranian rather than IndoAryan language. Illustrative of the point at hand, wherein Hūniyam is alternatively known as Sūniyam, Basham states, “…the frequent substitution of ha for the Indo-Aryan sa, which exists in the Sinhalese language to this day, suggests a Western source, and even reminds us of the Iranian dialects where the mutation is regular.”7 For example, the ritual drink in the Vedic and Zoroastrian faiths was rendered as soma in Sanskrit and hōma in Avestan. Additionally, centuries of exposure to Dravidian languages, especially Tamil, has led to significant changes in Sinhala, which further complicate the picture.

xiv Foreword Two of the languages that may help shed more light on this linguistic evolution are Dhivehi and Mahl, which are respectively the languages of the Maldives and the Indian island of Minicoy. Scholars believe these languages are most closely related to Sinhala. Precious little research has been done concerning these languages, but, thankfully, there are a number of fairly recent publications, such as Sonia Fritz’s The Dhivehi Language.8 Given that many scholars have speculated that these islands may be intimately involved in the Vijaya tale, it is of great importance that we undertake a deeper comparative study of the related languages. Unfortunately, much of the pre-Islamic literary and oral traditions of the Maldives have been destroyed over the ensuing eight centuries since the islanders’ conversion to Islam. The linguistic research this project necessitates begs for the attention of a host of specialists working in a collaborative effort to retrace the migration to its point, or points, of departure. Academics familiar with Sinhala, Pāli, Dhivehi, Mahl, Gujarati, and other Indo-Aryan and Indo-Iranian languages will be needed throughout the course of the work. In addition to solving the riddle of the Vijaya story, this may well help solve the mystery of the derivation of Hūniyam’s name too.

Constraints The main constraint confronted in this study is the lack of unanimity among both scholars and practitioners with regard to all aspects of this cult. There appears to be as many versions as there are scholars and practitioners. There are at least 12 versions of Hūniyam’s place of birth and parentage. The time of birth varies from the era of Kāsý apa Buddha, a period of inestimable antiquity, to that of King Māyādunne of the Kōt ̣t ̣e Kingdom (1521–1581 CE). Likewise, the setting varies from North India to South India and among various and sundry locales in Sri Lanka. His parentage fluctuates from Viṣṇu to various royal dynasties to ordinary humans. The next perpetual problem is the numerous variants in the literature available. These vary from serious academic studies to folklore confined to rural villages in both Sri Lanka and India. The third is the dichotomy that exists between Hūniyam’s dual role of demon and deva. As such, I sometimes wonder whether this is a sociological and historical mythical ritual invented during the Kandyan Period to symbolize the persistent arrival of invading South Indian forces on the island during the precolonial era to challenge the Sinhala Buddhist hegemony. If so, it reflects the subsequent defeat of all such alien forces and the dramatization and mythologizing of the victory of the Sinhala Buddhist forces of the medieval Kandyan society.

Rationale for the study First, despite the vast array of complexities and confusions associated with the worship of the Hūniyam cult, it is an accepted fact that in contemporary Sri Lankan society this cult has become a deeply rooted, important cultural

Foreword  xv practice among many people. Its ritual, cultural, magical, and sociological values have been accepted and recognized. It has won the confidence of millions of supplicants and devotees for whom it has become more or less a way of life. For some it has come to stay as a religion. For a large number of professional practitioners, both laity and monks, it is gainful employment. Large numbers of shrines have sprung up all over the island. As such, not only its sociological and cultural importance but also the political and economic values have to be noted as a socially dynamic phenomenon. Secondly, Hūniyam has already become part and parcel of the local pantheon of gods both sociologically and anthropologically, and his worship has today become a significant factor in Sri Lankan society. Apart from his sorcery aspect which satisfies the millions, both rural and urban, his deep involvement both as a provider of boons and as a protector as Gambāra dēvatā for the multitudes has become almost inseparable. This provides a ready source of mental salvation for millions, which effectively prevents social depressions and unrest arising from psychological imbalances. For millions it is a faith and a religion that cannot be separated from the supplicants without causing serious social problems. In Sri Lanka, a country where the incidence of poverty is comparatively high, the preponderance of cults based on the supernatural is unavoidable, because the incidence of religious and mythical practices in any given country is usually inversely proportional to its degree of poverty.9 Lastly, the social and historical value that could surface from a detailed study of this nature also must be recognized in view of the unresolved mysteries associated with Hūniyam’s origin, arrival, conflict, social acceptance, domestication, assimilation, and deification. If we succeed in finding answers to at least some of these issues, we may be able to give a new interpretation to the medieval history of Sri Lanka. The fact that a deep analysis of available factors leads me to postulate that Hūniyam is the symbolic personification of the demonic and evil forces that came from South India, which created confusion and social disorder in the Kandyan society, makes this argument stronger. Could this be a new interpretation of the historical forces that were in operation in the Kandyan Kingdom in particular and the South Asian region in general, where contemporary political forces were treated as supernatural and mythical to give social acceptance and legitimacy?

Review of literature Gananath Obeyesekere’s The Cult of the Goddess Pattinı ̄, 1984, was one of the first studies of the late twentieth century to tap into the renewed interest in Sinhala folk religion, and in symbols and ritual reenactment therein. Drawing upon an extensive ethnographic field study and from numerous variants of ritual texts, Obeyesekere provides an exceptionally comprehensive depiction of the worship of Pattinı.̄ Following an introduction to this cult, he embarks on a wide-ranging investigation of the ritual texts and enactments related to this goddess in modern Sinhala folk religion. While

xvi Foreword the information provided is far-reaching, it lends itself to forms of analysis other than those employed by Obeyesekere. He concentrates on the “cathartic” rituals of the cult, which are described by lightheartedness and crudity in contradistinction to the main rituals associated with the deity. The author relies heavily on psychoanalytical and structuralist approaches to the subject, which handicap what could have been a more systematic analysis of the beliefs of the cult by contrasting Sinhala folk religion with Buddhist dogma.10 However, for the purposes of my own work, it is Obeyesekere’s examination of the cosmology of Sinhala folk religion, and especially that detailing Hūniyam’s therein, that was of special interest. While the Hūniyam-specific material is somewhat limited, there is a much longer discussion of the types of deities that are in flux in much the same way as Hūniyam is. While Obeyesekere’s work was innovative at the time of its writing, given the 27 years that have passed since its publication and the huge social upheavals that have rocked the island in that period, it is now somewhat dated. However, it serves as a baseline for where Hūniyam was in his transition to that particular point in time. This allows me to see how far he had developed at that point and gauge how far he has progressed since that time. Deborah Winslow, in her 1984 article “A Political Geography of Deities: Space and the Pantheon in Sinhalese Buddhism,” delves into the role of Sinhala Buddhist deities within the time-honored Sinhala custom of utilizing the faith to endorse political authority. She claims that wide-ranging contemporary material regarding deity spaces suggests that, due to the fact that state-political integration encompasses territorial integration, regional deities have both mirrored and been exploited to bring about an integration of local peoples into statist structures. Conversely, this integration is not brought to fruition by having the spaces of the deities correspond with administrative units. Rather, she claims, it is achieved by convincing people that they do correspond; a case of perception creating reality in the minds of the masses. As the connection between various local units of governance and the state has altered through time, via fluctuations in the integration between the center and the hinterlands, the worshipers’ comprehension of the pantheon seems to have altered correspondingly. Perhaps the two most respected researchers of Sri Lanka in their generation, Gananath Obeyesekere and Richard F. Gombrich, provide an ambitious work, Buddhism Transformed: Religious Change in Sri Lanka, 1988, that attempts to analyze developments in the religious traditions of the island from the 1960s to the early 1980s. The authors focus on two central developments. First among these is the development of what they refer to as “protestant Buddhism.” The second is the mushrooming importance of supernatural cults, deva worship, the proliferation of demons, and possessions. Marvels, sorcery, astrology, and the arcane were escalating because “people want a lot of things and no longer see rational or practical ways of getting them.”11 The portions of the text dealing with cults and possession are astonishingly

Foreword  xvii intuitive. There are exact, redolent, in-depth chapters dealing with Hūniyam, Kataragama, and a host of other deities and demons. The authors refer to this folk religion dedicated to the lower strata of the Buddhist pantheon the “religion of the oppressed” in contrast to the “self-control and decorum” of the major dogmatic faiths of South Asia. Curiously, for a book published in the immediate aftermath of the outbreak of the Sri Lankan Civil War, very little space is given to discussing the underlying causes or repercussions of the conflict from a religious or political perspective. In fact, perhaps the most striking aspect of the portion dealing specifically with Buddhism is the fundamentally apolitical attitude that is employed, despite the fact that the politicization of the Buddhist saṅgha is one of the more noted transitions in Sri Lankan Buddhism, especially in the tacit approval for the war. While the authors spend far more time examining Kataragama and the process by which the Sinhala have essentially co-opted this renowned Hindu deity into the Sri Lankan Buddhist pantheon, they are among the first modern scholars to examine the changes in status occurring among the lesser deities and demons of the island as well, and this is especially the case with Hūniyam. The authors’ infatuation with Freudian analysis to explain these transitions falls a bit flat; the transitions appear to be quite more logically attributed to the political frustrations of the underclass and rural worshipers. However, this work has served as a trailblazing text for those who followed in Gombrich’s and Obeyesekere’s footsteps. Indeed, they implicitly indicate the path for further investigation to expound upon the political and socioeconomic parameters of the forces that they studied. In one of his earliest works on South Asia, Legends of People, Myths of State: Violence, Intolerance, and Political Culture in Sri Lanka and Australia, 1988, Bruce Kapferer had two main intentions. First, he aimed at presenting a case for the significance of understanding diverse forms of nationalism as the outgrowths of dissimilar cultural settings. Second, he intended to discern the reason why nationalism was prone to provoke the passions of the common people. He focused on two case studies of modern-day nationalism, namely Sinhala Buddhist nationalism in Sri Lanka and Australian nationalism. What he produced fell well short of his stated intentions. Heavily influenced by the Marxist French anthropologist Louis Dumont and the rabid, pro-Tamil nationalist Stanley Tambiah, Kapferer instead produced a completely subjective and culturally elitist diatribe that castigates the Sinhala people as simpleton demon worshipers in contrast to the enlightened and progressive Australians. That being the case, it is not surprising that most Sri Lankan scholars, with whom I have spoken, state that Kapferer has, over the years, had difficulty in recruiting informants for his ethnographies. Nevertheless, the small part of his work in which he turns his attention to the legends and rituals associated with the worship of Hūniyam were quite useful, if entirely too brief.

xviii Foreword In “Possession, Dispossession and the Social Distribution of Knowledge among Sri Lankan Ritual Specialists,” Bob Simpson observes transformation in the imparting of ritual information among ritual specialists in southern Sri Lanka. He examines the manner by which information and crafts that were previously considered inherited and principally linked to caste are being displaced amidst an age of swift socio-religious transformation. He provides insight into the apprenticeship and ritual performance that previously was predominant among the Berava caste. This transformation, he concludes, is associated with the changing nature of community in contemporary Sinhala society. While set in the context of southern Sri Lanka, this article was especially informative in helping me understand the transitions that have been occurring among the ritual specialists of folk Buddhism on the island. I also encountered this phenomenon in the Kandyan hill country. However, many of the factors that are causing this similar transformation in the center of the country seem to be quite different from those in the South. In his 1996 article, “Rethinking Historical Change in Sri Lankan Ritual: Deities, Demons, Sorcery, and the Ritualization of Resistance in the Sinhala Traditions of Sūniyam,” Seth Fleisher, an independent scholar who was, at the time of this article, a PhD student at Harvard, builds upon the work of Bruce Kapferer, proposing the need for more interdisciplinary methodologies to the exploration of historical developments in South Asian ritual traditions. He focuses on the contemporary growth of urban sorcery traditions in Sri Lanka and attributes the modern upsurge in the acceptance of these traditions in major urban centers, and Colombo in particular, to the transformation of a ritual repertoire from a premodern and rural ritual expression toward one more contemporary and urban. He postulates that there exists a crucial component of continuity between the rural and urban traditions. This, he claims, is their function, in various historical epochs and circumstances, as dynamic sociopolitical resistance. He attempts to establish that religious tradition in South and Southeast Asia is not merely employed to authenticate normative power structures; rather, it is also concurrently utilized by the disenfranchised underclass to struggle against those very same structures. As a disciple of Kapferer, Fleisher falls into some of the same pitfalls that have plagued his mentor. Approaching the topic from a Neo-Marxist perspective, he makes the same erroneous assumptions about socioeconomic stratification and class warfare that are endemic in that conflict theory riddled school of thought. However, his discussion of sorcery from a rural to urban tradition and his rejection of Obeyesekere’s and Gombrich’s notion that Hūniyam is a purely recent phenomenon are very accurate and poignant. This was very illuminating in the early stages of my research and validated by my own ethnographic research. In the 1997 volume, The Feast of the Sorcerer: Practices of Consciousness and Power, Bruce Kapferer’s central thesis appears to be that the sorcery beliefs and practices among the Sinhala of Sri Lanka stem not merely from

Foreword  xix human forces and their dynamics but are also expressly most sought after in periods of intense private tumult, when one needs to “recenter” one’s self and recoup one’s aptitudes for self-will and cognizance. Kapferer deals with the Sūniyama anti-sorcery rite in grand detail. He also examines different rituals conducted at home and in temples that are associated with Hūniyam. Kapferer also delves in great detail into the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. However, it is his notion that people have a propensity for turning to the arcane in times of private and collective tumult that is of most use to my study of the deity. This, I believe, is at the very heart of Hūniyam’s transition from demon to deity. Employing painstaking documentation grounded on textual and ethnographic study in his 2004 masterpiece, The Buddhist Viṣṇu: Religious Transformation, Politics, and Culture, John Holt examines the transformation of one of the preeminent Hindu deities during much the same period as that examined in my own work, roughly the medieval Sinhala kingdoms to the modern day. The author demonstrates the processes by which Viṣṇu is removed from his Hindu context and assimilated into the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. Using iconography dealing with varying images of a “Hindu Buddha” and a “Buddhist Viṣṇu,” Holt discusses this assimilation and then moves effortlessly among themes of avatars, deva worship, notions of monarchy, sociopolitical tensions, invasion and settlement patterns, literary and liturgical developments, and concepts of sacred space. As these processes are the very same developments that are affecting the worship of Hūniyam, this work was especially influential in the conceptualization and design of my study. In many ways, Holt has created a template by which other scholars can examine these deities in flux, and I found that anytime I appeared to have reached an impasse in my work, I would return to this book to get back on track. In Chapter 1, I examine the worship of devas and demons in Sri Lanka. This will set the stage for subsequent chapters by illustrating how various and diverse influences interacted to create the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. Furthermore, I begin to explain the processes by which apotheosis plays an important role in revitalizing that cosmology. The Chapter 2 is devoted to an examination of holy sites associated with the worship of Hūniyam. These sacred spaces each have a unique background historically, and the ritualists associated with these sites have divergent understandings concerning Hūniyam. In Chapter 3, I delve into the iconography of Hūniyam. I show how one can observe his transformation from demon to deity in the manner that he is depicted in imagery associated with his worship. I present numerous examples of malevolent, transitionary, and benevolent representations of Hūniyam and provide an analysis of each. In Chapters 4–6, I provide an historical context and illustrate how apotheosis has been employed throughout the history of Sri Lanka. I also delve into the character of Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, a South Indian adventurer who I believe is the historical figure later apotheosized as Hūniyam.

xx Foreword The Chapter 7 demonstrates that the same apotheosis processes are at work today, examining the postwar cult of personality that has developed around Sri Lankan President Mahinda Rājapakṣa. In Chapter 8, I return the spotlight to Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl and conclusively establish his role in the creation of Hūniyam. In doing so, I examine how the deeply engrained Sinhala Buddhist system is able to absorb the alien, recreating the invader as subservient to the Buddhist clergy and cosmology. Finally, in Chapter 9, I conclude my study with a summation of the most salient points of the dissertation. I present my future research plans and my suggestions for others interested in pursuing this sort of research. I argue that Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl is an historical figure who came to Sri Lanka from South India and later served in high positions in the Sı ̄tāwaka court. His impact was felt so strongly that in death he became a yakkā in the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. This process is a matter scholars have seldom discussed in studies of South Asian religions (with the obvious exceptions of Krishna and Rama), but it is a common topic in the examination of the pre-Christian religions of Europe. I believe this has a great deal to do with protecting peoples’ sensitivities. For example, the Norse religion was abandoned centuries ago; thus, asserting that Odin or Frey were actually humans who were later deified offends no one. However, making similar claims regarding the deities of the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology runs the risk of crossing the line of political correctness. One of the reasons I provide so much historical context is to illustrate the fact that this process has taken place repeatedly in the island’s history. A Muslim king became Gale Bandara Deviyō. Taniya Vallabāhu, a Kōt ̣t ̣e prince, became Tanivalle Deviyo. Additionally, we frequently find instances where an antagonist of the hero also joined the cosmology but as a yakkā. Thus, the man who pushed King Kı̄rthi Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha’s son to his death became Heda Yakkā and served the deified prince, who rose as Kiribandara Deviyō. Likewise, Rājasiṃ ha I became Resin Deviyō, and I argue, Ariṭt ̣a Kivenḍu Perumāl became Huniyam Yakkā. Building upon such historical precedents, we can use this construct, to some degree, in determining future candidates for such treatment. A contemporary pairing would likely be President Mahinda Rājapakṣa and the deceased Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) leader, Velupillai Prabhakaran. Given the adoration showered upon Rājapakṣa in the aftermath of the conclusion of the war, he appears well on his way to apotheosis, and whom better to serve as his devil than his bloodthirsty nemesis. Thus, we may well see the advent of Mahinda Deviyō and Prabhakaran Yakkā.

Notes 1 Mālimagē, 3. 2 Obeyesekere, Pattini, 71. 3 Uppalavaṇṇa = Viṣṇu, Saman = Lakṣmaṇa, Kataragama = Skanda, Vibhı̄ṣaṇa = Ravana’s brother.

Foreword  xxi 4 Nandadēva Wijesekera, Deities and Demons, 193. 5 Vijaya (543–504 BCE) was the first king of Sri Lanka mentioned in the ancient Sri Lankan Pāli chronicles. 6 M.W.S. de Silva, 14–15. 7 Ibid., 169. 8 Fritz, 55. 9 Steve Crabtree, “Religiosity Highest in World’s Poorest Nations,” Gallup, August 31, 2010, http://www.gallup.com/poll/142727/religiosity-highest-world-poorestnations.aspx. 10 Obeyesekere, The Work of Culture, 24–68. 11 Gombrich and Obeyesekere, Buddhism Transformed, 100.

Acknowledgments

This book is based on my PhD dissertation research. I am grateful to a great many people, but I am unable to mention all their names here, for which I apologize in advance. First, I would like to thank my Amma and Appachchi, Ira Gunasekara and Dr. Sudath Gunasekara, for the guidance and encouragement they have given me since my childhood. Even though it seemed like nagging when I was a little kid, later in life, I understood the “push” Amma gave my sister and me was a tremendous encouragement in my life. Amma did not go to college (though if she had followed an academic degree, she would have been one of the sharpest contributors to academia), but she always encouraged us to follow in Appachchi’s footsteps. Thank you very much for watching the kids while you were here, Appachchi’s never-ending notes, Amma’s frequent tea sessions, and taking me from one end to the other end in Sri Lanka for my fieldwork. Second, I like to thank my mother-in-law and father-in-law, Shirley and Paul Rockwell, for their support—especially for taking care of the kids when they were little. I will never forget the day they came to visit us in Wisconsin, took our son who had not been well for days, and said, “You two get some sleep now.” Also, I want to thank my sister, Shobha Senaviratna, and her family for letting me stay at their house while I was doing my research and taking me to several temples, shrines, and devotees. Moreover, I cannot put in words my thanks for the close relationship we have developed along the way. I want to express profound gratitude to all my teachers and the professors who worked with me on my dissertation. My MA/PhD committee members, professors Gudrun Bühnemann, who served as a mentor to younger female scholars; Velcheru Narayana Rao, who also helped me through endless hours of translating Telugu text with tremendous patience, while I was pregnant with my son; James P. Leary, who always helped lighten the load with his good humor and big heart; and Joseph Elder, who always funded my studies and looked after our growing family. Thank you very much for your patience and guidance. Thank you, also, to Dr. Afsar Mohammad and his kind wife, Kalpana, for teaching me Telugu and for their support.

Acknowledgments  xxiii Special thanks to all our Wisconsin friends, who constantly fed my entire family and babysat the kids. Manjula and Palitha Dissanayake, Dr. Sumudu Atapattu and family, Dr. Nihal and Enoka Herath and family (uncle for performing special rituals and aunty for being so kind to me and my family), Nishitha and Laura Ilanderage’s family. And major thanks to Brajesh Samarth and Kashika Singh for the many late-night meals, watching the kids, and mutual support. The list could go on forever. I would also like to thank the team at Routledge for giving me this opportunity and Dr. Jagannath Panda for putting me in touch with such a fine institution. My heartfelt gratitude to my three children, Nishanthi, Aneirin and Sandali, for their love and support. You three were very young when we started this journey, and I apologize for the long waits in the car with one of us and sometimes going from lecture to lecture with us in cold Wisconsin winters. Last but not least, I offer my thanks to my husband, Dr. Ernest Rockwell, for his unconditional support and love and putting up with me for “quitting graduate school at least twice a week.” Without you, this would have been impossible. You are the main pillar behind this book, so thank you, Ernest.

1 Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka

Sri Lanka is a country where beliefs in the supernatural and superstitions are as thick as its dense jungles. On this island, deity worship and demon worship have been commonplace for thousands of years. The history of black magic in Sri Lanka runs back, in part, to the legend of Vijaya, an Aryan prince, whose ancestry includes Sinhabāhu, a mythical chimeric king in India, who was born from the union of a lion and a princess and for whom the Sinhala are named.

Deva and demon worship Today it is common to see Sinhala Buddhists worshiping before images of Hindu or local deities and demons in Sri Lanka, where, paradoxically, many claim to practice an ultraorthodox strain of Theravāda Buddhism.1 One is given pause to wonder why many Buddhists pay homage to a statue of the Buddha, a stūpa, and the bō tree and then, after only a short walk, offer prayers to these deities and demons and drop a coin in the offering box of a shrine. In their daily practice, Sinhala Buddhists worship a great many such deities and demons. They even display various votive images in their home shrines. In many Buddhist temples in Sri Lanka, dēvāla have been dedicated to Hindu deities. While this practice became more prevalent during the Poḷonnaruwa period (twelfth century CE), it has existed far longer. The conviction that one’s life was influenced by benevolent and malevolent supernatural entities, for example ethereal souls or incorporeal beings, who one must mollify by prayer and ritual, was among the ritual components of the pre-Buddhist folk religions of the island to endure despite the more rational viewpoint posited by Buddhism. In the end, Buddhist rituals were established to satisfy this predilection for pre-Buddhist modes of belief, and a ritual called pirith developed. This entailed the public chanting of excerpts from Buddhist scriptures by bhikṣhus for expelling malevolent forces. The practice of sorcery, commonly pre-Buddhist in nature, endured as a firmly engrained practice among the people even after their conversion to Buddhism, and undeniably persisted to hold sway with practically undiminished influence. This amalgamation of Buddhism and pre-Buddhist beliefs and DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-1

2  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka practices grew into a feature of Sinhala religious beliefs that has endured to the present day.2 While the expansion of Buddhism on the island came at the detriment of Hinduism, the latter never became fully submerged; rather it survived and had an immeasurable impact on Buddhism that became only more discernible with the progressing of history. Vedic deities, pre-Buddhist in nature, continued to be revered by the people, and kings who supported the official religion, Buddhism, but patronized Hindu temples and observed Brāhmanic rituals as well. Hinduism was further buttressed by small cliques of Brāhmans dwelling among the common folk and influential at the court.3 Especially during the later centuries of the Anurādhapura Kingdom, the Hindu impact on Buddhism became increasingly marked as an essential consequence of the religio-political transformations in the South Indian kingdoms. In the early years of the current era, Buddhism was strongly entrenched in South India. Thus, close links were established between South Indian Buddhist kingdoms and Sri Lanka.4 However, after the sixth century CE, South Indian Buddhism had been absolutely inundated by the rising current of an aggressive Hindu revivalism. All that remained of the once dominant faith were a few secluded communities in Orissa that maintained a tenacious but perilous presence. The persistent influences of the South Indian kingdoms on the governance and culture of Lanka carried with them also the religious influence of a more poised and assertive Hinduism. With the emergence of four Hindu powers in the South Indian kingdoms— the Cōl ̣a, Paṇḍya, Pallava, and Chera—during the fifth and sixth centuries CE, ethnic and religious antagonisms impaired relations between them and the Sinhalese kingdom. These Dravidian kingdoms were militantly Hindu and exceedingly determined to eliminate Buddhist influence throughout South India.5 In the face of such antagonistic policy, South Indian Buddhism was virtually eradicated by this bellicose Hinduism, and, consequently, one tremendously significant link between South India and the Sinhala Kingdom was shattered. Moreover, the antagonism of these South Indian kingdoms toward Lanka, ordinarily aroused by the prospect of booty, was now further exacerbated by religious fervor and burgeoning ethnic identities. A central concern emerged from this in that the Dravidians of Lanka became ever more cognizant of their ethnicity, which they then began to emphasize in expressions of religio-cultural terms. Consequently, the Tamil communities on the island served as bases of support for successive waves of Dravidian invaders, representing an out-and-out fifth column. Once a relatively harmonious multiethnic society, Sri Lanka now became a plural civilization in which two divergent peoples existed in a situation of intermittent tension. There were, however, long episodes of amicable relations between the Sinhala and Dravidians, and resilient religio-cultural bonds, and whereas there undoubtedly was a sense of ethnic identity on both sides, there never existed any sense of true ethnic purity among the different communities, least of all among the monarchs of the island, whose dynasties continued to intermarry

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  3 with those of South India with great regularity. All these factors weighed especially heavy after the invasions and subsequent rule by Dravidian forces from the Cōl ̣a Kingdom.6 There were, for example, the influences of Hindu rituals and modes of worship; belief in the magical efficacy of invocations, a Vedic influence, and more significantly in bhakti as a means of redemption, all of which were important facets of Hinduism from at least the seventh century CE and were strengthened by the shift from the ethical to the devotional facets of Mahāyāna Buddhism.7 Hindu temples were now built in close proximity to Buddhist vihāras. The absorption of Hindu observances into Buddhism was further bolstered by the steady assimilation of Hindu divinities into Buddhist traditions, especially during and after the latter part of the tenth century.8 In addition to the reverence for Mahāyānist deities, the worship of Hindu deities was firmly engrained in the religious practices of Buddhism on the island.9 By the fifteenth century, Upalavaṇṇa had been promoted to the position of the national deity of the Sinhala Kingdom. This Hindu impact on Lanka was cultivated by immigrant Brāhmans, and their influence continued to increase as their numbers grew throughout the successive waves of invasion and migration from South India.10 These men labored under the patronage of the invaders and native monarchs, a prime example of the latter being Parākramabāhu VI, and they enjoyed the support of a substantial number of the common folk as well. By contrast, the saṅgha’s influence upon the kings and aristocracy of Kōt ̣ṭe deteriorated increasingly following the death of Parākramabāhu, and it more and more appeared as though the higher echelons of Sinhala society were quickly becoming Hindu in perspective, if not openly in faith. Hindu temples multiplied in the Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom. However, despite all these factors, Lanka received significant esteem overseas as the bastion of Theravāda Buddhism. Whereas Buddhism had become virtually extinct in India, the land of its nascence, and Indian sacred sites were inaccessible to followers due to the Muslim invasions, Lanka was considered sacred space by the Buddhists of Southeast Asia, specifically Pagan, Arakan, and other small kingdoms in what is today Burma, Siam, and the Khmer Empire. These Buddhists viewed Lanka as a second holy land of Buddhism due to the many relics of the Buddha preserved at the island’s major temples and the fact that Buddhist monks from Lanka had introduced Buddhism to many of these kingdoms.11 Thus, we can see that Theravāda Buddhism in Lanka melded together a variety of religious influences including pre-Buddhist traditions and practices, Mahāyānism, and Hinduism, but was never truly overcome by these rival theologies. Instead, a syncretic faith emerged. It was not only the Sinhala who embraced religious transformation. Some Tamils embraced Buddhism during its heyday in India.12 One of the priests at the Nātha dēvālaya of Kandy, Reverend Elle, stated that in the past some Tamils practiced Buddhism on the Jaffna peninsula. Tamil Buddhists were in the forefront during the golden era of Tamil literature.13 Silappadikaram, the

4  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka magnificent epic that tells the story of Kannagi, Manimekalai, and Madhavi, was written by Illango Adigal the Chera prince, who became a Jain monk. In the sequel to the epic, Manimekalai, the author, Seethalai Sattanar, tells the story of Manimekalai, daughter of Madhavi who became a Buddhist monk. This is an important work dealing with Buddhism in Tamil literature.14 Even today, the Tamils who visit the Nāgapōshani Amman Temple in Nāgadı̄pa worship at the nearby Nāga Vihāra. To this day, most Sinhala Buddhists worship Hindu deities, visit Hindu temples, and participate in Hindu festivals. The sight of Sinhala Buddhists, carrying lighted pahana (a Buddhist practice) and coconuts (a Hindu practice) in Hindu temples, is an indication of the unity existing among the ordinary people despite the communalism being trumpeted by the so-called nationalists on both sides of the ethnic divide.

Devas The word deva, meaning “god” or “deity” in this context, signifies various classes of superhuman beings who in some respects are superior to ordinary human beings through their birth in a higher plane or through their performance of great exploits in their mortal lifetime. As such, they are capable of helping human beings in times of difficulty. According to Holt, devotees transfer merit to deities to assist the deities in their quest for nibbāna.15 In exchange, the deities grant boons upon their loyal devotees. Paradoxically, however, consequent to the increase in their spiritual development, these deities become less involved in worldly affairs due to their advancement toward Buddhahood and their greater ability to renounce all things worldly, including their devotees. As a result, they gradually lose the support of their supplicants.16 Thus, at some point, these devotees would need to find another deity to turn to in their hour of need, since their former patron deity would no longer have concern for their plight. Accordingly, they may well turn to some entity that to that point had been considered of lesser power, an entity akin to Hūniyam.

Indigenous devas Even though I list the deities below as autochthonous devas of Sri Lanka, some scholars argue that these deities were introduced to the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon via India. It would appear that, in reality, what exists are instances of Sanskritization of local deities during periods that Sri Lanka was under the control of Indian invaders or dynasties. There are strong indications that these deities have long histories prior to any known connections to the great Hindu gods ascribed to them. As Dharmadasa states, A lot of Buddhists in Sri Lanka worshiped deities. If one were to look at this phenomenon, it is not in tune with what the Buddha taught. Buddhism did not believe in a creator or redeemer. We have Buddhisised

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  5 [sic] Hindu Gods and deities. This was syncretism—two religions coming together and mixing up.17 With these concepts in mind, Sinhala Buddhists also elevated their native deities into the ranks of the Buddhist pantheon of gods and demons. Following are a few such deities popular among Sinhala Buddhists today.18

Saman The first historical mention of Śrı̄ Pāda, the mountain upon which Saman’s main temple is located, comes during the reign of Vijayabāhu I. According to Paranavitana, It is in the reign of Vijayabāhu (1055–1110) we have the earliest historical evidence in chronicles and inscriptions by the cult of the footprint on Adam’s Peak. It is recorded of this monarch that he, having seen the difficulties undergone by the pilgrims on their way to worship the Buddha’s Footprint on Samanthakūta dedicated the village named “Gilı̄male” to provide for their needs.19 In various sources and folk stories, Saman is referred to as a deva, yakkā, rākṣasa, or even as an Indian. One such legend states that Saman was the younger brother of Rāvaṇa, perhaps Vibhı̄ṣaṇa, who, according to many legends, ruled Sri Lanka around 6000 BCE. Following his death, Prince Saman became a god by the name of Mahā Sumana Saman. Scholars such as Paranavitana note that earlier chronicles, such as Dı ̄pavaṃ sa or Buddhaghoṣa’s Samanthapasadika, have no reference to Saman or Samanthakūta, the mountain named for him. Interestingly, there is a countervailing notion that Saman is instead Lakṣmaṇa, the younger brother of Rāma.20 In a 2004 conversation with my uncle, the late Professor Anuradha Seneviratne, he quoted a sixteenth-century Thai source, the Jinakalamalini, as providing support for this connection.21 Obviously, this poses some interesting questions given that Saman’s conflicting genealogies would potentially place him on opposite sides of the major war depicted in the Rāmāyaṇa. Of course, if Saman were supposed to be Vibhı̄saṇa, that would perhaps explain some of the confusion and would place him on the same side regardless of his familial background. Saman is also mentioned in the Sinhala chronicles as being present when the Buddha visited the island for the second time. In the Mahāvaṃ sa, he is recorded as having met the Buddha on the latter’s first visit to the island, when he visited Mahiyangana to drive away the yakkās. Saman became a stream-entrant, sotapanna, after listening to the Buddha. The Buddha offered Saman a handful of his hairs with which he initiated the stūpa at Mahiyangana.22 The Mahā Saman Dēvālaya of Rathnapura, first built by King Parākramabāhu II, is the main temple dedicated to Saman. His character is

6  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka of historical significance for the Sinhala people, and the island’s Buddhists venerate him. Saman is the chief deity of Sabaragamuva province and the Śrı̄ Pāda Mountain. According to the Mahāvaṃ sa, Saman is one of the four deities, who undertook to protect the island and Buddhism. According to popular belief, Saman became an object of worship from that early association with the Buddha and remained an important deity until the Kandyan Kingdom fell under the sway of the Nāyakkar dynasty. At that point, the Nāyakkars introduced the goddess Pattinı ̄, who then supplanted Saman’s position within the pantheon.23 Several ancient kings visited the mountain from time to time. Parākramabāhu II (1225–1269) and his minister, Devaprathirāja, visited the mountain and paid homage. They constructed roads leading to the mountain and installed iron chains on iron posts to make the ascent easier for the devotees to visit the temple. Parākramabāhu’s son, Vijayabāhu, and other kings Vimaladharmasūriya (1687–1707) and his son Narēndrasiṃ ha (1707–1730) were among the Sinhala kings who visited the mountain to pay homage. Rājasiṃ ha I (1581–1593), who became a Hindu convert, also visited the mountain. Śrı̄ Vijaya Rājasiṃ ha, the Nāyakkar who became the Kandyan king in 1739, also visited the mountain. Kı ̄rthi Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha (1747–1789) during whose reign the Buddhist renaissance took place, visited the mountain and restored to the Buddhists incomes withdrawn by Rājasiṃ ha I. This historical evidence demonstrates the importance the kings placed on Saman, and in doing so, encouraged their subjects to do so as well.

Uppalavaṇṇa While many scholars hold the view that Uppalavaṇṇa is an incarnation of the Hindu god Viṣṇu, Ananda W.P. Guruge has put forth the notion that he was actually an ancient autochthonous deity of the Sinhala pantheon in pre-Buddhist days and was later grafted on to the Hindu deity in a manner closely akin to Srinivas’ notion of Sanskritization.24 If one takes a look at two of the oldest chronicles of Sri Lanka, the Dı ̄pavaṃ sa25 and the Mahāvaṃ sa, one finds the notion that the island of Lanka is destined to be the last and purest bastion for the Buddha’s teachings. This Dhammadvı ̄pa concept is the central precept of the texts and defines their historical approach to both the prehistorical and subsequent hagiographic history of the island.26 The Dı ̄pavaṃ sa states that the Buddha predicted his teaching would survive in Sri Lanka; therefore, he asked Śakra, the king of gods, to protect the island, and Śakra gave the responsibility of defending the religion to Uppalavaṇṇa.27 It is also stated in the Mahāvaṃ sa that there are four deities regarded as the guardians of the Buddha’s teaching on the island. They are: Uppalavaṇṇa,28 Saman,29 Kataragama,30 and Vibhı ̄saṇa,31 each of whom have a Hindu identity as well. Apart from the four guardian deities of Sri Lanka, there are a vast array of deities and demons that have had a significant impact on the people. The name Uppalavaṇnạ means someone who is the color of blue water lily. One can argue that as Viṣnu ̣ is of the same color, Uppalavaṇnạ became

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  7 identified with Viṣnu ̣ , and in the wake of the Mahāvaṃ sa tradition, he became, as Viṣnu ̣ , the protector of the Buddha’s teaching in Sri Lanka. Although Uppalavaṇnạ is commonly identified with Viṣnu ̣ , Paranavitana argues this is a recent construct. Furthermore, there is evidence to show that, at least in later folklore, the two gods were distinct. Somewhere about 790 CE, a shrine was erected to Uppalavaṇnạ in Devanagara, modern-day Dōndra in South Sri Lanka. Here, an annual Esala festival is held in his honor in the July– August time frame. The Portuguese later plundered this shrine. King Vı ̄rabāhu offered there a sacrifice of victory and Parākramabāhu II rebuilt the shrine.32 If the identification is correct, his cult can be traced to the earliest phase of the history of the island and has been popular up to the present day. Uppalavaṇṇa belonged to a group of “four great gods,” and each of these four gods was the patron of a certain part of the Island. We can trace these tutelary gods in many Sinhala inscriptions and literary works. While Uppalavaṇṇa was the first of these gods, the god of Kataragama was second in rank. Since we can trace the identification of the god of Kataragama with the Indian god Skanda kumāra or Subrahmaṇya to the fourteenth century, one might posit that this is the same period in which Uppalavaṇṇa acquired his association with Viṣṇu.

Demons According to the Mahāsamaya Sūtta of the Dı ̄gha Nikāya, a canonical orthodox Theravāda text, the Buddha directly addressed the matter of devas and dēvatās.33 While the Buddha was teaching this specific discourse, dēvatās visited him and his followers. Having noted their attendance and remarked that such was not uncommon, the Buddha described a sophisticated, and sometimes befuddling, categorical taxonomy of divine beings of various types. He begins with a reference to the yakkās, then to the four lokapālas, and several varieties of asuras. Sequentially, these are followed by 60 classes of devas, beginning with those associated with the four primary elements (earth, wind, fire, and water). Yet another 60 classes of deities in sets of tens follow these. The Buddha’s system seems to be presented as a hierarchy, so the deities cited first (the yakkās) are lowermost in rank and influence, and those mentioned last are the uppermost and most detached gods.34 The word yakkā, while once merely a Pāli adaptation of the Sanskrit yakṣa, in the Sri Lankan context has a negative connotation not associated with the Sanskrit entity in India. It has a dual meaning; on the one hand, it refers to the pre-Aryan peoples of Sri Lanka. On the other hand, the term refers to a demonic class of supernatural beings, more akin to the ra ̄kṣasas of the Rāmāyaṇa instead of the nature-spirit yakṣas. As a direct result of these two nuanced definitions, the attributes of the two species of beings have been confused and rather conflated in the more modern context. When looking at the term in a broader South Asian context, the art historian Ananda Coomaraswamy (1877–1947) states the term yakṣa is first found in the Jaiminı ̄ya Bra ̄hmaṇa, which gives the rather ambiguous meaning of yakṣa as

8  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka “a wondrous thing.”35 Coomaraswamy also states that yakṣa are not only the attendants of Kubera but also his bearers. Yakṣa are portrayed extensively in various Buddhist, Hindu, and Jain sculpture and are mentioned in the early mythology of Hindu epics, purāṇas, and in Buddhist Jātaka stories. He also states that, “yakkās are associated with various mythological characters and symbols among the lower deities and demigods who inhabit the trees, rivers, oceans, rock mounds, and sacred spots that fill the cosmological landscape of India.”36 Coomaraswamy believes that yakkās are ranked below the devas in the divine hierarchy but very often they are not clearly distinguished from devas, devatā, or deviyōs.37 Legend has it that the original settlers of the island were identified as yakkās, ra ̄kṣasas, devas, and nāgas. Together these four tribes formed what are called the Sivhelas38 of ancient Sri Lanka. The yakkās are said to have resided on the hills, while the nāgas lived along the coast as fishermen. The devas and ra ̄kṣasas lived in between as cultivators. It is said that they were conversant with cultivation and in the many arts and crafts. However, they had no formal religion, and, therefore, they were animists. As such, they worshiped the dead, and the natural elements such as the sun, moon, wind, rocks, trees, and so forth. It was this legacy of deva and element worship that existed in the country until the advent of the historical period on the island at which time the Buddhist monks wrote about the arrival of the Aryan Prince Vijaya and his retinue in the sixth century BCE, nearly a thousand years before the legends were written down. According to these monks, thereafter, the new traditions brought by Vijaya and his people from North India flourished until the official advent of Buddhism in 307 BCE (i.e., 237 years after the purported demise of Gautama Buddha). According to the Mahāvaṃ sa,39 the Buddha visited Sri Lanka three times. During his first visit, he drove the yakkās out from their kingdoms and moved them to the higher lands (Giridı̄pa). In modern-day representation, this is the rural area near the village of Meemure, and even today, people believe that when the Buddha drove the yakkās, he drove them to Meemure. It is also a well-known folk belief that during the Kandyan Kingdom, people were sent to Meemure as a punishment, because the life there was harsh.40 Sir John D’Oyly41 ́ Wickrama Rājasiṃ ha, sent states in his diary that the last Kandyan king, Srı̄ his two daughters to Meemure for their protection from the British.42 It is also believed that British authorities captured the king while he was hiding in a storage shed in Medamahanuwara Ududekada on his way to hide in Meemure.43 Observing the Buddha’s miraculous powers and supernatural qualities, the yakkās shunned their former attributes of harshness, cruelty, and wickedness and became his pious devotees. After this, the Buddha preached to millions of gods in a city named Mahiyangana, to the east of Kandy. According to a legend, when the Buddha visited Sri Lanka, he planted one foot on the north of the royal city, and the other on Sumana kūta (Saman Kanda or Adam’s Peak) about a hundred miles distant.44

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  9 In Sri Lanka, there are certain gods who although they come from demonic backgrounds ascend to the level of deity. Vibhı ̄ṣaṇa, for example, belongs to the Rākṣasa Gōtra45; however, he is also revered as a god. Gods’ and goddesses’ importance in society depends on the sociopolitical needs of the people. The worship of Vibhı̄ṣaṇa reached its zenith during the sixth century CE during which time he gained prestige nearly on par with that afforded to Viṣṇu. However, today, Vibhı̄ṣaṇa is an insignificant god in the Buddhist pantheon. Generally, at times when Indian influence was high, Hindu gods and those they perceived as important also came to prominence. For example, Mahā Parākramabāhu son of Manabharana and Ratanāwali was supposed to have been conceived through the blessings from Vibhı ̄ṣaṇa. During the Kōt ̣ṭe period (1412–1597), Śrı̄ Rāhula addressed Selalihini Sandēs ́aya to Vibhı̄ṣaṇa in supplication for a son to be granted to the princess, Ulakudaya. He devoted 27 poems out of 108 to praise Vibhı ̄ṣaṇa. That alone shows the importance given to Vibhı̄ṣaṇa during that time. This was a period when Hindu influence was at its zenith in Lankan history. The following verse clearly shows the importance Vibhı̄ṣaṇa was assigned during this period. Tunlo tama natukala Ravulu sohovuru Tunklal bala Raminduta vu itu mituru Tun we aduru Pulatisi kula minimituru Tun vitekama vandu esurindu pa tamburu46 Selalihiniya my friend, you worship three times the lotus like feet of Vibhı̄ṣaṇa, the brother of Rāvaṇa the Great, who brought the Three Worlds under his control and who was like a bejeweled lamp to the clan of Pulatisi the Teacher of the Three Vedas, and who became the beloved friend of Rāma the mighty, after considering the past, present and the future. Thus, we see the importance placed upon the worship of Vibhı̄ṣaṇa in this particular time, and it seems obvious that the temple in Kälaṇiya was under royal patronage. The fact that Ulakudaya’s son, Jayabāhu II, succeeded his grandfather, Parākramabāhu VI, and served as king in Kōt ̣ṭe from 1467 to 1473 undoubtedly helped build the reputation of this deity, as the supplicating poem had been answered with the birth of the princess’ son. Similarly, Hūniyam is another deity who was a demon and later he was ascribed the role of a god. However, unlike Vibhı̄ṣaṇa, Hūniyam has yet to shed his demonic origins fully. Rather, he vacillates between his two identities according to sacred time and the needs of his adherents.

Sammuti-deva and the concept of apotheosis in Sri Lanka Apotheosis is a time-honored tradition in Sinhala Therāvada Buddhism. While this applies to any living monarch, the divinity bestowed upon many of the kings of Lanka was often as short-lived as the monarchs themselves. One

10  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka might assume that those kings who performed the greatest deeds would continue their deification after death, but interestingly, this has not necessarily been the case. In fact, Duṭugämuṇu, Parākramabāhu I, and others who performed great feats in their lifetimes, although addressed as a god during their lifetimes, were never deified after death. On the other hand, some kings who accomplished very little, or who were noted for their cruelty or some act of malevolence, have been deified and are still worshiped today. Heinz Bechert suggests there are six ways in which religious authority legitimated political power in the Therāvada Buddhist context: (1) identifying the monarch with the mythological world ruler (cakravala cakravartin); (2) imputing to the monarch the moral and spiritual perfection of bōdhisattvahood; (3) describing the “ideal king” as the champion of Buddhism; (4) assigning to the monarch the authority of one who governs by the dhamma; (5) apotheosizing of the monarch as the dēvarāja; and (6) concomitant supporting of the monarch by both Buddhist and non-Buddhist sects.47 A prime example of such a phenomenon is Rājasiṃ ha I, the King of Sı ̄tāwaka who converted to Śaivism. Although a renowned general and highly revered monarch, it would appear that Rājasiṃ ha’s apotheosis stems instead from the Sinhala people’s fear of his cruel treatment of Buddhist monks and institutions following his conversion. He is worshiped in the same fashion as malevolent deities. Thus, it is not his military campaigns or struggles against the European colonialists that gained him his status as a godling, Rasin Deviyo, but rather his maltreatment of his own people.48 Nor is the practice of apotheosis limited to the monarchs of the island. Indeed, Hūniyam, and many other deviyōs, belongs to that class of supernatural beings who were originally extraordinary human beings. After their deaths, these have been raised to the level of gods and are worshiped and supplicated as being capable of helping in times of need. These are the gods by convention (sammuti-deva) or glorified human heroes like Minnēriya Deviyō, who was deified in recognition of his construction of the great Minnēriya tank at Pol ̣onnaruwa. Within this category of demons and devās, there are also those who symbolize invading forces who conquered another country or people. After their death, these interlopers were likewise deified or demonized in the new country owing to their political or social influence. In Sri Lanka, Hūniyam could be cited as an example of this category. Both these categories of supernatural beings are, however, subject to the saṃ sāric laws pertaining to birth and death.

Conclusion For Sinhala Buddhists any god or goddess is inherently inferior in stature to the Buddha. Sinhala people look at all the gods and goddesses as followers of the Buddha, who has himself transcended the cycle of rebirth (saṃ sāra), while these other supernatural entities are still within saṃ sāra, hoping to achieve release from it by emulating the Buddha’s example. However, the Sinhala people believe all the gods and goddesses are merely a step or so

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  11 behind the Buddha, and they are able and willing, when properly propitiated, to protect their worshipers and bring success to their lives and harm to their enemies. Buddhism has played an essential role in Sri Lankan society. It continues to be the underpinning of Sri Lankan society. Sometimes new practices and rituals have served as an interface between the old and the new until the two strains eventually fused. However, this fusion was accomplished without killing the spirit of the original Sinhala Buddhist paradigm. Sinhala Buddhists believe that the doctrine that was brought by Mahinda Maha Thera was committed to writing at Aluwihāre. While this is considered as the original canonical form of Buddhism, it was subsequently influenced by Hindu practices and subsequent South Indian invasions and migrations, as well as interaction with other Southeast and East Asian Buddhist cultures, and then through the colonial experience. The trend continued throughout the existence of independent Sinhala kingdoms and persists in the modern era. These influences are seen not only in religious practices but also in all aspects of Sri Lankan culture such as architecture, art, language, dress, and even foodways. Even during the Anurādhapura period, significant changes took place due to the introduction of Mahāyāna traditions. At the same time, new cultural practices, rituals, and skills that accompanied immigrants were absorbed into the local culture. Local Buddhism also was significantly transformed. For example, temples for new devas were built and icons were installed. However, of course, the monks took care to see that such new additions always took a subordinate position to autochthonous Buddhist observances  and practices. The Sinhala Buddhist core remained dominant and fundamental.

Notes 1 Ananda Wickremeratne, “Historiography in Conflict and Violence,” in Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, ed. Deegalle Mahinda (New York: Routledge, 2006), 121. 2 Victoria J. Baker, A Sinhalese Village in Sri Lanka: Coping with Uncertainty (Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace College Publications, 1998), 38. 3 John Clifford Holt, “Hindu Influences on Medieval Sri Lankan Buddhist Culture,” in Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, ed. Deegalle Mahinda (New York: Routledge, 2006), 38. 4 Sudhakar Chattopadhyaya, Some Early Dynasties of South India (Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1974), 122. 5 Wendy Doniger, The Hindus: An Alternative History (New York: Penguin Press, 2009), 340–41. 6 Lakshmanan Sabaratnam, Ethnic Attachments in Sri Lanka: Social Change and Cultural Continuity (New York: Palgrave, 2001), 34–36. 7 Mysore Hiriyanna, The Essentials of Indian Philosophy (London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1978), 36. 8 Holt, “Hindu Influence,” 38. 9 John Clifford Holt, Buddha in the Crown: Avalokites ́vara in the Buddhist Traditions of Sri Lanka (New York: Oxford University Press, 1991), 65–67. 10 Stanley Jeyaraja Tambiah, Buddhism Betrayed?: Religion, Politics, and Violence in Sri Lanka (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1992), 154.

12  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka 11 David Brazier, The New Buddhism (New York: Palgrave, 2002), 34. 12 Somasundaram Vanniasingham, Sri Lanka, the Conflict Within (New Delhi: Lancer, 1988), 92. 13 Rev. Elle, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Sri Lanka. 14 Upinder Singh, A History of Ancient and Early Medieval India: From the Stone Age to the 12th Century (Upper Saddle River, NJ: Pearson Education, 2008,) 518–21. 15 Holt, The Buddhist Viṣṇu, 200–27. 16 Seth L. Fleisher, “Rethinking Historical Change in Sri Lankan Ritual: Deities, Demons, Sorcery and the Ritualization of Resistance in the Sinhala Traditions of Suniyam,” Journal of Anthropological Research 52, no. 1 (1996): 30. 17 T.S. Subramanian, “Monolingualism Hits Varsity Education in Sri Lanka,” The Hindu, May 25, 2005, http://www.hindu.com/2005/05/25/stories/200505250 1421300.htm. 18 KNO Dharmadasa, interview, by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, May 6, 2004, Galaha, Kandy, Sri Lanka. 19 Senarat Paranavitana, The God of Adam’s Peak (Ascona: Artibus Asiae Publishers, 1958), 12. 20 Ibid., 28. 21 Anuradha Senaviratne, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, May 8, 2004, Kahalla, Kandy, Sri Lanka. 22 This is a town in Badulla District. Sinhala Buddhists believe that the Buddha visited Mahiyanganaya during his first visit to Sri Lanka. 23 Paranavitana, The God of Adam’s Peak, 15. 24 Mysore Narasimhachar Srinivas, Social Change in Modern India (Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971), 1–45. 25 This oldest chronicle of Sri Lanka is written in Pāli and is believed to have been compiled in between the second and third centuries CE. It is derived from much older oral tradition. Together with the Mahāvaṃ sa, it is the source of ancient Sri Lankan wisdom, history, and mythology. 26 This means the “righteous island.” 27 Mahānāma, Mahāvaṃ sa: The Great Chronicle of Sri Lanka: Chapters One to Thirty-Seven, translated by Ananda W.P. Guruge (Colombo: S. Godage & Bros., 2005). 28 It is said in Mahāvaṃ sa that the Buddha before passing away he granted the guardianship of Sri Lanka to Uppalavaṇṇa. 29 This god is known as Mahasumana or Saman. This is the god of the guardian of Śrı̄ Pāda Mountain (Adam’s Peak). 30 The god Kataragama (Skanda) is most popular among the southern part of the island. Sri Lankans believe that this deity has the most power of granting requests to the worshipers. 31 This deity is somewhat similar to Vibhı ̄saṇa, recognized as brother of King Rāvaṇa. His main temple is in Kälaṇiya, as a part of the famous Buddhist temple in a city few miles away from the capital city, Colombo. 32 Cv.lxxxiii.49; see also Cv.Trs.ii.152, n.3. 33 Dı ̄gha-Nikāya: Romanize Pāli Text with English Translation, translated by Alka Barua (Delhi: New Bharatiya Book Corporation, 2008). 34 Holt, Buddhist Viṣṇu, 2–27. 35 Ananda Coomaraswamy, Yakṣas (New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal, 1980), 5. 36 Gail Hinich Sutherland, The Disguises of the Demon: The Development of the Yakṣa in Hinduism and Buddhism (Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991), 1. 37 Coomaraswamy, Yakṣas, 7–9.

Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka  13 38 Paranavitana, The God of Adam’s Peak, 179. Pāli Sinhaladvı̄pa becomes hela, div in Sinhala. For the derivation of Hela, see Hettiarachi (1974: 6). For the legend of the lion, see Kiribamune (1979). Sri Lanka was name Heladiva (Hela + Diva). The four (siv) tribes living in the island. Siv + hele = Sivhela. 39 While the Mahāvaṃ sa, which literally means “genealogy of the great,” is considered by many Sinhala to be the indisputable repository of the authentic history of the island, it, like most such texts, contains a great many legends and nationalist hyberbole. This is not to say that it is ahistorical, but rather to point out that, alongside actual historical data, there exists a large amount of material that simply is not true. 40 Tennakoon Vimalananda, Udarata Maha Kerella, Part III (Colombo: Gunasena, 1963), 380. 41 D’Oyly was a British colonial administrator during the Kandyan period and was the intermediary between the British Governor and the Kandyan chiefs. Also, he was credited with drafting the Kandyan Convention of March 2, 1815. 42 John D’Oyly, Diary of Mr. John D’Oyly: (Afterwards Sir John D’Oyly, Bart., Resident, Principal Accredited Agent, and First Commissioner of the British Government in the Kandyan Provinces); 1810–1815 (Colombo: Colombo Apothecaries, 1917), 109–10. 43 Dr. Sudath Gunasekara, phone conversation with author, December 10, 2009. 44 Mahānāma, Mahāvaṃ sa, 409. 45 The Rākṣasa were the mythical inhabitants of Sri Lanka who were said to have lived among the Nāga, Yakkā, and Deva. According to the Rāmāyaṇa they governed Sri Lanka in 2370 BCE and were led by Sumali and Sukesha of the Raksha, who were ousted by the deva with the help of Lord Viṣṇu, and then subsequently ruled by King Rāvaṇa. A got̄ ra is the lineage or clan assigned to a Hindu at birth. In most cases, this system is patrilineal. 46 Toṭagamuvē Śrı ̄ Rāhula Thera, Sẹ lalihiṇi Sandēs ́aya, ed. Pandita Wataddara Mēdhānanda Thera (Colombo: Sri Lanka Prakasakayo, 1957), 15. The spacing of the lines is intentional, as this is the proper format for Sinhala poetry. 47 Heinz Bechert, “Aspects of Therāvada Buddhism in Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia,” in The Buddhist Heritage: Papers Delivered at the Symposium of the Same Name Convened at the School of Oriental and African Studies, University of London, November 1985, ed. Tadeusz Skorupski, et al. (Tring: Institute of Buddhist Studies, 1989). 48 Paulus Edward Pieris and Richard Bryant Naish, Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505–1658 (New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999), 113–14.

Bibliography Baker, Victoria J. A Sinhalese Village in Sri Lanka: Coping with Uncertainty. Fort Worth, TX: Harcourt Brace College Publications, 1998. Bechert, Heinz. “Aspects of Therāvada Buddhism in Sri Lanka and Southeast Asia.” In The Buddhist Heritage: Papers Delivered at the Symposium of the Same Name Convened at the School of Oriental and African Studies, edited by David L. Snellgrove, et al. 19–27. Tring: Institute of Buddhist Studies, 1989. Chattopadhyaya, Sudhakar. Some Early Dynasties of South India. Delhi: Motilal Banarsidass, 1974. Coomaraswamy, Ananda. Yakṣas. New Delhi: Munshiram Manoharlal, 1980. Dı ̄gha-Nikāya: Romanize Pa ̄li Text with English Translation. Translated by Alka Barua. New Delhi: New Bharatiya Book Corporation, 2008. Doniger, Wendy. The Hindus: An Alternative History. New York: Penguin Press, 2009.

14  Deva and demon worship in Sri Lanka D’Oyly, John. Diary of Mr. John D’Oyly: (Afterwards Sir John D’Oyly, Bart., Resident, Principal Accredited Agent, and First Commissioner of the British Government in the Kandyan Provinces); 1810–1815. Colombo: Colombo Apothecaries, 1917. Fleisher, Seth L. “Rethinking Historical Change in Sri Lankan Ritual: Deities, Demons, Sorcery and the Ritualization of Resistance in the Sinhala Traditions of Suniyam.” Journal of Anthropological Research 52, no. 1 (1996): 29–60. Hettiarachi, Pragnasoma. In the Steps of the Buddha. Colombo: Government of Ceylon, 1974. Hiriyanna, Mysore. The Essentials of Indian Philosophy. London: Unwin Paperbacks, 1978. Holt, John Clifford. Buddha in the Crown: Avalokites ́vara in the Buddhist Traditions of Sri Lanka. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. ———. “Hindu Influences on Medieval Sri Lankan Buddhist Culture.” In Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, edited by Deegalle Mahinda, 38–66. New York: Routledge, 2006. Mahānāma. Mahāvaṃ sa: The Great Chronicle of Sri Lanka: Chapters One to ThirtySeven. Translated by Ananda W.P. Guruge. Colombo: S. Godage & Bros., 2005. Paranavitana, Senarat. The God of Adam’s Peak. Ascona: Artibus Asiae Publishers, 1958. Pieris, Paulus Edward, and Richard Bryant Naish. Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505– 1658. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999. Sabaratnam, Lakshmanan. Ethnic Attachments in Sri Lanka: Social Change and Cultural Continuity. New York: Palgrave, 2001. Srinivas, Mysore Narasimhachar. Social Change in Modern India. Berkeley: University of California Press, 1971. Subramanian, T.S. “Monolingualism Hits Varsity Education in Sri Lanka,” The Hindu (May 25, 2005). http://www.hindu.com/2005/05/25/stories/2005052501421300. htm Sutherland, Gail Hinich. The Disguises of the Demon: The Development of the Yakṣa in Hinduism and Buddhism. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991. Toṭagamuvē Śrı̄ Rāhula, Thera. Sẹ lalihiṇi Sande ̄s ́aya, edited by Pandita Wataddara Mēdhānanda Thera. Colombo: Sri Lanka Prakasakayo, 1957. Vimalananda, Tennakoon. Udarata Maha Kerella, Part III. Colombo: Gunasena, 1963. Wickremeratne, Ananda. “Historiography in Conflict and Violence.” In Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, edited by Deegalle Mahinda. New York: Routledge, 2006.

2 Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam

Hierophany, a term Eliade defines as the physical manifestation of the divine, renders a location a sacred space, setting it apart from the profane, everyday world. One certainly finds this phenomenon among Hūniyam worshippers in Sri Lanka. They believe that any place associated with a hierophany, especially the physical manifestation of the god himself, has rendered that location sacred space, and it is these locations which are frequently the sites of Hūniyam temples. The legends associated with the Hūniyam’s exploits in Sri Lanka relate such hierophanies. I will also explore the growing trend among followers of the Abrahamic faiths to pay homage to a deity well outside of their own tradition, as Christians and Muslims have increasingly sought out Hūniyam temples to seek aid for their misfortunes. During the Kandyan Period (1592–1815), many Sri Lankans worshiped yakkās such as Hūniyam. Also during the same period the yakdessa, the priests associated with a particular yakkā and who serve as exorcists to dispel evil spirits, also worked hard to preserve the importance of their knowledge and their work, so they were able to continue to enjoy the patronage from the king and the respect of the local people. Nandaveva Wijesekera explains the yakdessa, The yakaduras (also known as yakdessa) who deal with tovil and know all about demons are more daring and vigorous men. Their business is to dance, chant, and act the part of the demons. The demons must be made to appear in person. Masks and other dress and ornaments have to be put on. At times, the dancer actually loses consciousness and merely acts in frenzy. He has to be revived by fanning and sprinkling of water.1 Even though the Kandyan Period was not the beginning of yakkā worship in Sri Lanka, we can definitely say the Kandyan Period breathed new life into those practices on the island. Robert Knox, an English sailor in the service of the British East India Company who was shipwrecked in Lanka and held captive for 19 years during the reign of Rājasiṃ ha II, as quoted in Tundeniya, once mentioned that there were three different priestly groups living on the island during the Kandyan Period: Buddhist priests, kapuvās, and yakdessan. DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-2

16  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Knox stated the former group worked within Buddhist temples and the latter two worked in the kovils.2 When entering a dēvāla, one acquires the feeling of entering a sacred space. The statues, offerings, even the smell of the environment make us feel this way. We can look at the minor items such as flowers, sculptures, and the behavior of other people as a response to and amplification of the sense of sacred space. While one finds Hūniyam at many Buddhist temples in Sri Lanka, most of the Hūniyam dēvālas on the island are associated with Viṣṇu or Däḍimuṇḍa.3 There are certain temples that are most strongly associated with his worship. Indeed, there are some temples that are first and foremost associated with Hūniyam and are not overtly associated with the worship of other deities. These are freestanding structures not associated with any Buddhist temple complex. Other sites are small shrines that are, in fact, associated with temples or temple complexes associated with the Buddha or some other deity. I will deal first with those temples more intimately focused upon the worship of Hūniyam, and then turn our attention to those associated with the larger temples and complexes.

Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple The main temple of Hūniyam is located in Lunāva, a city on the western edge of Moratuwa about eight miles to the south of Colombo. A coastal town, Lunāva is a beautiful settlement with gentle ocean breezes. It is interesting to observe that this temple is located in a community largely populated and influenced by Catholicism. Even though there is not much evidence regarding the founding of the temple, it is suggested that the temple was established in the late 1850s. According to some extant literature, Rev. Ekiriye Saddātissa, a Buddhist monk, was instrumental in the development of this temple. While his sudden death was a major loss for the temple, Rev. Valane Ananda and the people of Lunāva continued his legacy in building the temple. After the death of Rev. Valane Ananda, Rev. Galkisse Śrı̄ Visuddānanda (1911–1993) became the head of the temple. Under his leadership, there were major changes there. For example, he was instrumental in starting an annual perahära festival associated with the temple. When he was young with his parents’ blessings, he decided to become a Buddhist monk. When he started to attend college, the distance between his village and the college was too burdensome; so, he moved to Lunāva Temple. Today this temple is known as Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddāramaya. The current head priest is Rev. Dodam Pahala Siddhartha (1938–). According to this Buddhist priest, this temple, although ostensibly Buddhist in nature, is better known for its association with Hūniyam.4 The S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike, a former prime minister, and his party members brought widespread attention to the temple beginning in the 1950s when Bandaranaike visited the temple prior to the election to receive blessings from Hūniyam. After his subsequent

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  17 victory, Bandaranaike revisited the temple several times, and this brought donations from numerous facets of the Sri Lankan elite. After Prime Minister Bandaranaike’s visit, the temple gained notoriety as the preeminent shrine devoted to Hūniyam Deviyo. Prior to his visit, the temple was known as Hūniyam yakkā Temple where only the malevolent aspects of Hūniyam were celebrated.5 The Hūniyam priests working in this temple are Hindu kaṭṭadiyas rather than Sinhala kapurālas. According to Rev. Siddhartha, this is because the kapurālas are charlatans rather than true devotees of Hūniyam, whereas the kaṭṭadiyas are far more authentic and more highly trained. Therefore, the deva worship at his temple is done according to the Hindu system, rather than the Buddhist. At Lunāva Śrı ̄ Shuddaramaya, kaṭṭadiyas perform both benevolent and malevolent Hūniyam rituals. Here bhut̄ a rituals are also performed to help mentally weak and sick people who are seeking spiritual assistance. According to Rev Siddhartha, these rituals last for as long as two weeks. He further stated that during a spiritual ritual known as bhut̄ a waidya kalav̄ a the kaṭṭadiya does the maturum and the supplicant himself/herself explains the situation to the kaṭṭadiya. It is performed by making offerings, such as the blowing of a conch, playing of drums, or reading of special kavi written for the deity, to a particular Hūniyam painting and requesting that the deity help the supplicant. He further explains that even when supplicants are mentally ill, they are able to react to the kaṭṭadiya’s maturum and answer his questions. Sometimes the supplicant’s voice is different from his/ her normal voice and takes on the attributes of the bhut̄ a spirit that has possessed the supplicant. According to Rev. Siddhartha, the spirit may sometimes act stubborn and be unwilling to leave the supplicant’s body. In this case, the katṭ ạ diya must resort to more drastic measures, for example the use of harsh words to communicate with the bad spirit and drive out the spirit. Furthermore, he states that in the past kaṭṭadiyas and doctors played much the same role. By checking the pulse of the supplicant, the kaṭṭadiya would decide whether the bad spirit had left the body or not. He referred to four different pulses found in the human body: vat̄ a (flatulence and rheumatism), pita (bilious diseases), sema (phlegm), and bhut̄ a (spirit).6 In that case, these can be cured by medical treatment according to Ayurvedic or Western systems, by a surgeon or physician. Mixtures or pills are taken internally and oils and ointments are applied externally. Of course, decoctions prepared by boiling medicinal herbs and pills are prescribed by the Ayurvedic physicians. When the illness does not respond to such treatment, external causes such as planetary evil influences upon one’s astrological horoscope are feared. However, the most feared are the suspected acts of black magic. The kaṭṭadiya is called upon to express his views. He suspects the possible effects of black magic. In the end, one is told that the illness is due to a combination of causes. There can be the displeasure of deities, evil combination of planets, ill will of demons associated with planets, possession by, or vision of, some bloodthirsty demons, evil eye, evil thought or

18  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam evil speech by jealous persons and acts of black magic done to harm the patient, operated directly or indirectly, by means of several supernatural agencies. According to Rev. Siddhartha, Lunāva has long been a poor fishing town with a large Catholic community in the area, and he attributes these as two major reasons for the slow development of the temple. However, when Rev. Galkisse Śrı̄ Visuddhanada was the head of the temple, with support from some wealthy Catholic families living in the town, he made improvements to the temple. As he stated, the first stūpa in Moratuwa was built at this temple under Mrs. C.E. De Silva’s guidance, and A.F. Molamure, a former Speaker of Parliament, was the chief guest of the opening event. Saman flowers were dropped from a helicopter and this grand occasion was one of the most memorable events for many people in the area. As briefly mentioned earlier, at Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya there is an annual fourteen-day perahära in August 20–25. The first perahära was held on July 25, 1953 under the direction of Rev. Galkisse Visuddananda’s. For the third annual perahära, Prime Minister Bandaranaike played a special role in the procession. He actually carried the Hūniyam statue from the temple to a display strapped to the back of an elephant for the parade. There are two main leaders of the laypeople of the temple and they are the chief organizers for the event, which includes various genres of music, regional dance, and 20–25 elephants. This perahära starts at the Lunāva Temple, goes around the entire city of Moratuwa, and returns to the temple. The main statue of Hūniyam in this temple was made in Sri Lanka during the mid-1980s, which is significant because many of the other deity statues in Sri Lankan temples are made in India, which has a bearing on the perception of its authenticity in the eyes of devotees. Rev. Siddhartha stated that the statue is made out of cement with no plastic and is plastered with lime. As mentioned, the statue is carried around the temple during the perahära in a glass display, similar to Hindu traditions. Compared to many other Hūniyam statues, a distinguishing feature of this particular image is the fact that there are no snakes around the deity’s head, which are otherwise a common motif in the deity’s depiction elsewhere. Other than Hūniyam, Viṣṇu, Kataragama, Ishvara, Pattinı ̄, Däḍimuṇḍa, Kāli, Gaṇeśh, and Saman statues are also present at this temple.

Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple The Hūniyam dēvālaya in this shrine is located to the right side of the Viṣṇu dēvālaya. According to Rev. Siddhartha, Hūniyam reigns supreme among the other deities in this particular temple. Accordingly, the size of the Hūniyam dēvālaya is bigger than those of the other dēvālas. Every evening at 6:30 there is a special service for Hūniyam with offerings of flowers, incense, and chanting of the karaṇı ̄ya metta sutta in front of the Hūniyam statue. Devotees also believe that the beautiful picture of Hūniyam behind his statue has the special power of bringing good or evil to people.

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  19 Every Tuesday and Friday, devotees come to the temple to receive jasmine flower garlands, hoping that these garlands will bring them good luck and good health. Rev. Siddhartha stated that Hūniyam protects and finds answers to people’s daily dilemmas; however, his special protection is given to the devotees who light a pahana lamp to Hūniyam every day. He also stated that some people misuse Hūniyam’s power to do harm to their enemies. He also stated that Hūniyam is in his benevolent side during the first half of the month and gradually he becomes malevolent for the rest of the month. Rev. Siddhartha believes that Hūniyam was a Vaḍiga prince who received blessings from 24 Buddhas. He believes that Hūniyam came to Sri Lanka from India and first took up residence in Käbälläva, where today the main Hūniyam temple is located. Rev. Siddhartha also states that the daha ata sanniya belongs to Hūniyam. Daha ata sanniya, sometimes known as sanni yakuma, is a traditional Sinhala exorcism ritual. The ritual consists of 18 dances, each depicting a particular illness, or ailment, afflicting humans. These 18 dances are the main dances of the low country dancing form, which is one of the three main dancing forms of Sri Lanka. The ritual calls the demons that are thought to affect the patient, who are then told not to trouble humans and are thereafter banished. Case study one The case studies at Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple. Fieldwork conducted 12/15/2009. Appuhami is a 50-year-old man from Moratuwa. After his wife’s death, he was not able to sleep at night. He was having nightmares and ended up spending the night without any sleep. One day, Appuhami visited a fortuneteller who told him that his wife died with a broken heart, and due to that, his wife is not letting him sleep. Appuhami told me that when his wife was still alive, he used to drink alcohol even though his wife was adamantly opposed to that practice. Appuhami finally decided to visit the Lunāva at Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple to seek help. When he talked to the kaṭṭadiya, he checked his pulses and advised him to conduct a week and a half–long ritual. Following the kaṭṭadiya’s advice, Appuhami performed the ritual. Appuhami said that he had to bring five sweets, five fruits, incense, resin, and five different colors of flowers to the shrine for a week. The ritual was done in the evening, and the kat ̣ṭadiya sang kavi to Hūniyam every evening and asked him to protect Appuhami. At the end of the ritual, the kaṭṭadiya gave the fruits back to Appuhami and asked him to offer them to beggars on the street without speaking any words. Appuhami followed the kaṭṭadiya’s instructions, and on the final day Appuhami went home and, per the kaṭṭadiya’s advice, bathed in the river, offered flowers and light to Buddha and Hūniyam, and went to bed. That was the end of Appuhami’s two years of seemingly endless insomnia.7

20  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Case study two W.G. Nirmala, a young woman in her twenties, was unable to get married. Her parents had even doubled her dowry; however, still no man was willing to take her hand. Nirmala’s mother met with a fortuneteller who told her that somebody in Nirmala’s family has done an evil act. This was why Nirmala had been unable to marry. The fortuneteller advised Nirmala’s mother to go to the ́ Visuddārāmaya Temple and meet with the priest to discuss their Lunāva at Srı̄ dilemma. The head priest and the kaṭtạ diya advised them to conduct a ritual for Hūniyam, so a man would seek Nirmala’s hand. Nirmala’s mother was not willing to share the particulars of the ritual they had to perform; however, she said after completing the ritual and wearing an amulet around her neck, the first marriage proposal was a success. Nirmala is now happily married and has ́ Visuddārāmaya two children. As a token of thanks, they visit Lunāva at Srı̄ Temple every Sunday to offer flowers and pahana to Hūniyam.8 Case study three Maharoof is a Muslim in his late forties. He is a businessperson by profession. He said that he was able to make a good living with his business; however, there occurred a dramatic and seemingly inexplicable downturn in his business. In rapid succession, he lost nearly all his money, vehicles, and the two houses he owned. Following the advice of a friend, Maharoof decided to go to the Lunāva at Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple and meet with the kaṭṭadiya. The kaṭṭadiya determined that one of his business partners had done some evil to destroy him and advised him to conduct a ritual for a week. Maharoof had to offer seven small baskets of jasmine flowers, and a special offering called a diṣṭi pu ̄jā, which contained three eggs, rice cake, mung cake, and sweets made out of semolina. Maharoof said that during this week, he had difficulties in coming to the temple for the ritual. He said that one day he had to work overtime though he never had before. He found this odd, since his company never let anybody work overtime due to the amount of money that they have to pay. Another day, a tree branch had fallen on the road and the traffic was at a standstill for some time. Another day when he was on the way to the temple his wife called and said that their child had a high fever and needed to go to the hospital. When I asked the kat ̣ṭadiya if there was any reason behind all these difficulties, he stated that whomever the person was who did the evil wanted to make sure that Maharoof would not easily remove the curse. However, Maharoof had a fortunate star in his horoscope at that time, and Hūniyam protected him. Maharoof said that after completing the ritual, on the seventh day on the way home it started to rain, ending a long drought. The next day the bank called him and gave the news that they had approved his loan, and day by day his business began to improve and his life started to become less troublesome. Maharoof said that today his business is doing well and his oldest son just finished his business degree from a leading university in England and was now running the business with him. His wife

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  21 is also a part of the business and their other child will be going to England for her higher education soon. Maharoof said that he and his wife wanted to see their daughter married to a Muslim before she leaves for England and a suitable partner was matched through a matchmaker. Maharoof believes that Hūniyam is going to protect and take good care of his family.9 The above case studies reveal several qualities of Hūniyam and his devotees. They are all indicative of Hūniyam’s benevolent nature and how he is helping his devotees to overcome their problems. This stands in stark contrast to earlier perceptions of the deity as a malevolent being. In Maharoof’s case, we see that one possible reason for this shift in Hūniyam’s nature is a burgeoning syncretism between the various faiths of the island. Perhaps it is Hūniyam’s unique familiarity with the darker aspects of sorcery and his previous position as a demon that provide him with the understanding and ability to remove the malevolent influences of other deities.

Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo The Visuddārāma Lunāva shrine is known as a branch of Lunāva at Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya, the main Hūniyam temple. This temple was developed by Rev. Galkisse Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya to meet the needs of those people moving into the more urban setting of Colombo from the rural setting of Lunāva. The location of the temple was donated and financed by Siril De Souza, a local businessman. Shortly after the building of the temple, the site was frequently flooded, and members of the temple were compelled to collect money to renovate the place. Today the kapurāla at this Hūniyam dēvālaya is Nimal Jayasūriya. According to Jayasūriya, the people who frequent the Visuddārāmaya Temple seeking Hūniyam’s assistance come from various religious backgrounds: Buddhist, Hindu, Muslim, and so forth. In fact, he estimates that 40 percent of the devotees are Muslims, a revelation that one might find highly incongruous with a monotheistic faith. Jayasūriya stated that the devotees range from upper to lower class. Furthermore, he stated that every day his work for Hūniyam begins with offering pūjā, flowers, lights, and incense to Buddha’s statue.10 When one walks into the first-floor prayer room, the main statue one will see front and center is Hūniyam; however, to the right side of the locked glass room the Buddha and the gods display also has a major place in this room. On the second floor of the two-story building, there is a large statue of the Buddha. Next to this Buddha image, statues of Viṣṇu, Saman, Kataragama, Hūniyam, and Nātha are present. According to Jayasūriya, the first offering is always offered to the Buddha and, thereafter, offerings are presented to the other deities. However, this temple is best known for its association with Hūniyam. Also known as the “little Kataragama” by those who frequent the temple, this place is always thronging with devotees. The main festival at this place is the three-day perahära on December 23–25, which, according to Jayasūriya, is intentionally timed to coincide and compete with the Christian holiday season. During the perahära, the

22  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Hūniyam statue is carried around the city on a palanquin on the shoulders of devotees. This perahära has been conducted for 37 years. Among those who most frequently visit the temple, we find those seeking promotions at work; people with mental problems; people who are seeking supernatural assistance for their children’s success; politicians who desire more power; and various other people with sundry different needs. It seems then that supplicants are drawn to Hūniyam not solely because of his association with magic and astrology but also for his association with transformation. Much like the Hindu deity Ganesh, who also transformed from a demon, Hūniyam is a remover of obstacles. His own narrative as one who progresses through the Buddhist cosmology draws worshipers who seek such transformative powers, albeit more mundane, in their own lives. The route of the perahära is Baseline Road to Kettarama Road; then on to State Road to Kosgas Handiya to South Grandpas Road; and on to Totalaga Road and then to Kandy Road and return back to the temple in reverse order. The current main priest of this temple, Rev. Kapudūva Nandasiri, was able to develop this temple in terms of expanding the facilities and bringing in more donations. According to Rev. Nandasiri, the historical reason for not conducting perahära and other open events previously was the fear that many people have concerning the name and nature of this deity. However, he states, today it is a very common to see a small clay votive for Hūniyam in front of many houses. In addition to the perahära, the nānumura mangalya at this temple is a major event. Very few Hūniyam temples conduct this type of festival and these events are of recent advent.

Nānumura mangalya The bathing of deities and their associated paraphernalia such as conches, tridents, or swords is known as a nānumura mangalya. Items made with gold and metal are suitable for the nānumura. Images made with clay and painted images are not washed, as this would be destructive to the image. Bō trees may also be venerated in a nānumura mangalya. These items will be bathed on Saturday and Wednesday mornings, which are considered to be the gods’ days. Devotees believe that conducting nānumura mangalaya will bring blessings upon them. When the images are being washed, ślokas are sung. The steps of the nānumura mangala are to bathe the items in various substances: first, a mixture of water and sandalwood; second, panchagawyenda; third, pañcāmṛta panchamurta ( pañca = 5; amṛta = nectar); fourth, purified butter; fifth, elakiri, cows’ milk; sixth, mudawapu kiri, curd; seventh, honey; eighth, cane sugar; ninth, lime juice; tenth, coconut water; and eleventh, with fresh water. There are certain rewards associated with the bathing of particular items in the ritual: 1 . Conch – knowledge, power, victory, money, good luck, material wealth 2. Rudra ̄kṣha – energy, promotions, profit, protection

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  23 3. Bō tree – long life, profit, legal case victory, promotion, good health, popularity 4. Buddha’s statues – material wealth, protection from misfortune, beauty, goodwill, happiness, health 5. Bhikṣhu/Bhikshini – power, success, success with women, and happiness 6. Parents/teachers – power, knowledge, deity happiness, protection from bad astrological influences, success, protection from malevolent spirits 7. Velauda – power, victory, energy, and regal bearing 8. Trident – protection and power 9. Lamp – health, good fortune, and education 10. Pātra (bowl) – health, energy, determination, long life, comfort, and good fortune with women 11. Robes and other deity related cloths – success, money, sons, knowledge, and profit 12. Swords – success, power, and regal bearing Case study one The case studies at Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo. Fieldwork conducted 12/14/2009. H.A. Mallika, a Sinhala Buddhist in her mid-fifties, works as a garment worker in a Colombo suburb. When I met her, she was visiting the temple seeking Hūniyam’s blessings for her son’s promotion at work. Mallika said that she has been visiting Visuddārāma Temple for about six years seeking various help. Mallika said she believes in Hūniyam and visits the temple frequently. She said even though there is a dark side to Hūniyam, she believes that Hūniyam helps her to overcome her problems and brings her good luck. In return, other than flowers, light, and incense, she promised Hūniyam fruit baskets and pictures of Hūniyam, the latter of which are available for purchase at the temple. Mallika said, even though some Buddhist people do not believe in gods and goddesses, she still believes herself to be a good Buddhist. Furthermore, each time she has asked Hūniyam for favors, he has brought happiness and answers to all her problems, and  she was absolutely certain that he would help her son receive his promotion.11 Case study two P.W. Sriyani Perera, a Sinhala Buddhist in her mid-fifties, was with her daughter to seek the protection of Hūniyam deviyo. Perera’s daughter works in the Middle East as a maid. She was soon to be leaving again to return to the same job. Perera said that her daughter is visiting the shrine to offer flowers and fruits for protecting her during her previous stay in the Middle East and they are seeking Hūniyam’s assistance for this second sojourn as well. Perera said she and her daughter live far from the temple but prefer to come to the city

24  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam temple, so their friends and family will not see them visiting the Hūniyam shrine. The reason she gave me was: Since Hūniyam has two sides, if someone in our village sees us visiting our local shrine, they will think that we are visiting the Hūniyam shine to bring harm to someone in the village. If something bad happens to someone in the village, everybody will talk about our visit to the Hūniyam temple and we will have lots of enemies in the village.12 Thus, there remains somewhat of a stigma associated with the open worship of Hūniyam, at least in smaller communities. Some of this stigma is lost in the major metropolitan areas, but one would likely still be cautious about attending a Hūniyam temple in close proximity to one’s own neighborhood for much the same reasons as this informant expresses. Perera and her daughter offered a fruit basket (king coconut, lime, orange, and pineapple) along with some paňḍuru money to Hūniyam. The kapurāla, Nimal Jayasūriya, prayed to Hūniyam and presented the offerings. He whispered a mantra over the king coconut and the lime and gave them back to Perera and her daughter. When I spoke to Perera, she mentioned that they were here to seek protection from Hūniyam. However, when Jayasūriya was praying, he mentioned another matter to Hūniyam. The supplicants also wanted to win the heart of the daughter’s boyfriend and make him ask her to marry him. People are hesitant to talk about their personal problems to normal people, yet they will reveal these issues to the kapurālas with the firm belief they are the representative of the deity.13 Case study three Fathima Maharoof, a Muslim woman in her mid-thirties, lives in a small apartment in Borella, the largest suburb of Colombo. Fathima said that she has been visiting this shrine for five years: For the first time I came here with one of my friends. I lost my gold bracelet, and my friend said I should come to this shrine and offer a special pūjā. I came here and met with the kapurāla and I promised Hūniyam a fruit basket and some paňḍuru. The kapurāla asked me to come and offer flowers and incense for Hūniyam for seven days. I continued my offerings for seven days as the kapurāla advised me. I went home and after two days, I received a small package. When I opened it, it was my bracelet. Several more incidents happened and Hūniyam assisted me in various ways. Due to my own experiences, I highly believe in Hūniyam deviyo.14 This is a prime example of syncretism at work between the folk variants of Buddhism and Islam. It is perhaps all the more interesting to find such an

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  25 interaction between such a nebulous character as Hūniyam and a monotheistic religion that frequently tends toward intolerance of such antithetical, folk practices. Another situation that brought Fathima to the temple was that her young sister was of marriageable age. However, after some time, she was unable to find a suitable suitor. Fathima visited the kapurāla and he offered Fathima’s sister seven coconuts with which she was to make milk rice for seven days and offer the first spoonful of milk rice to birds and then consume the next spoonful of milk rice mixed with some sesame oil. Fathima’s sister, being a devout Muslim, at first was apprehensive of such an unorthodox practice. However, after hearing several success stories associated with Hūniyam, she decided to follow the directions. Within three months, Fathima’s sister met her future husband and they are now married and have two children. Again, the above case studies show the benevolent nature of Hūniyam, and, as I mentioned before, illustrate how he acts like a father in helping people in need of help. In Fathima’s case study, we can observe Hūniyam’s emerging syncretic nature and his ability to remove obstacles. We also see that his transformative powers have a reputation that attracts worshipers from other faiths.15

Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella Unlike other temples, the entrance to Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya is closed with a large metal gate. One must ring the bell to gain entry. When I entered the temple, the soft bhajan music made me feel as though I were entering a Hindu temple. The smell of incense was overwhelming and the structure was less airy than the more traditional sites I had already visited. This made the place seem somehow more modern and, to the mind’s eye, somehow less overtly religious. The main kapurāla in this Hūniyam temple is W.P. Boteju,16 a man somewhere in his forties. His experience with Hūniyam runs back to his early twenties. Prior to his marriage, his father’s business was going under and the family was facing difficulties. Therefore, he started to light a pahana for Hūniyam and asked for his blessings. When I asked why he selected this particular deity, he stated that one could determine one’s guardian deity in two different ways. One can discern the matter from one’s horoscope, or by means of one’s own gut feeling. He claims to have acquired his knowledge by the latter path. After lighting a pahana for a period of time, Boteju noticed that his life was getting back to normal and his father’s business started to pick up as well. In 1980, he began to meditate and study Hūniyam. His family members made light of his beliefs and his meditation until one day, during a long drought season, he was challenged by his brothers to bring rain. Boteju lit a pahana and asked Hūniyam to bring rain. Thunder was heard from the four cardinal directions and a heavy rain washed away the rubbish in the streets. From that

26  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam day forth, his family has believed in the power Boteju possesses and decided to make a shrine and help other people as well. Boteju said later in his life he received blessings from Hūniyam to get married and have a family. He also stated that once he owned a pet snake named Takari, named for one of Hūniyam’s wives, and during one of his performances, he took the pet snake out from the cage and showed it to the crowd. He claims that it was the most beautiful snake, and due to that, jealous people gave it the evil eye, and the snake died in his arms. Boteju said that as a kaṭṭaḍiya at this Hūniyam shrine he has to obey several rules, including the following: protecting Hūniyam’s jewelry, staying away from parties, avoiding homes in which young girls are having their first menstruation, avoiding funeral homes, and avoiding places where newborn children are present. At this temple, there are several Hūniyam statues on display. According to Boteju, people from all over the country come to see him, seeking answers to their daily problems. Boteju said Hūniyam granted him the power to cure peoples’ sicknesses. Every Monday and Wednesday there are long lines of people waiting to visit this Hūniyam temple. Boteju focuses only on the benevolent side of Hūniyam. However, he stated that he also performs Hūniyam käpilla. Thus, he recognizes the malevolent aspect of the deity but focuses on removing the curse from the supplicant rather than seeking revenge through the power of the deity. Boteju said that for cutting an hūniyam he makes a human-shaped figure with five different waxes. The waxes are composed of mee iti (bee wax), debara iti (hornet wax), kaladuru iti (small wasp wax), babara iti (wasp wax), and kana iti (honeybee wax). He stated that if these five waxes are not available, it is possible to sculpt the figure with clay. If he believes an enemy of the supplicant has done an hūniyam to give the supplicant a heart attack, Boteju would put a needle in the chest of the human form figure. If he believes the enemy has done an hūniyam to cause a mental breakdown, he would place a needle in the head of the figure. If the enemy has done an hūniyam to break the customer’s legs, Boteju would place a needle in the legs of the form. This act is known as nēcha kapı ̄ma, which means to remove an hūniyam. Boteju stated once he begins a ritual to cut an hūniyam, the supplicant may begin to exhibit peculiar behavior such as shivering, acute pain in the joints or the back, and fainting. When these symptoms manifest, Boteju places the needle in the figure to cut the hūniyam. In Sri Lanka there are numerous shrines dedicated to Hūniyam within Buddhist temple premises. There are also small shrines dedicated to Hūniyam in many private homes. According to Boteju, there are certain rules to follow in creating a home shrine to Hūniyam. For instance, the home shrine for Hūniyam must be built beneath the shade of a mango or a sap-producing tree. Boteju also stated that there are certain places unsuitable to the location of a Hūniyam shrine, such as facing the east, directly facing the main entrance to the house, by a water stream, by a toilet, by a well from which people draw bath water, and any place where waste is around. The construction material

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  27 must be strong wood or cement. The shrine must meet the following specifications: 12 inches in length and width and 18 inches in height, with some holes in the roof and have a wide-open door to promote the circulation of fresh air. By offering light, incense, and resin practitioners believe that Hūniyam will protect them and bring happiness and success in life. Boteju said if one neglects one’s home base shrine, dead relatives, prēta, and other yakkā spirits may enter and bring harm to the people of the house. This particular temple differs from many other Hūniyam temples. According to Boteju, Hūniyam is not a deity who tends only to Buddhist and Hindu needs, but rather ministers to Muslim and Christian people as well. While we have seen this at other temples, this facet of the deity is more highly refined here. In fact, Hūniyam is known here by many different names, depending on the faith of the supplicant. Buddhists know him as Gambāra dēvatā or Hūniyam dēvatā. Tamil Hindus refer to him as Muni Ā ṇḍi or Muni Sami, a form of Śiva associated with his rule over the Ā ṇḍi mendicants. Christians call him Hardayē Dēvaputrayā or Dēvatāvun Vahanse, which are both names for Jesus. In addition, Muslims revere him as Suleiman Nabi, which is the Old Testament and Koranic king/prophet/sorcerer Solomon. Non-Tamil Hindus believe him to be Kalki, the future incarnation of Viṣṇu. In his very syncretic perspective, Boteju believes that all the gods and goddesses in all religions are connected and when we treat them as separate entities, the power of the individual god or goddesses is diminished. He also believes that all gods must be treated equally, and in that case, the gods’ and goddesses’ affection for humankind will be magnified. Furthermore, he states that, as in Hinduism, for every individual there is an iṣṭa god or goddess. To find our own iṣṭa devata ̄, one can discover that by getting his/her horoscope read by an expert or, in some cases, some people can sense their iṣṭa devata ̄. As Boteju said, his iṣṭa devata ̄ is Hūniyam, or as he refers to the deity, Dēvatā unwahansa, an honorific way of addressing the deity. Boteju believes that Hūniyam will look for special people, such as the people who have done many good deeds in their past lives and offers them the boon of being his priests in this life. However, not all these boons are the same. Some receive the boon of healing others. Some others may receive the boon of educating others in the worship of Hūniyam. With the power of the boon, these people will start working for the welfare of others. He said, when a normal person like Boteju reads the future, or when he heals someone’s long-term health issue, he only acts as an intermediary between the deity and the supplicant. While he can communicate with Hūniyam during the ritual, when he is not performing a ritual, he is just a regular everyday person. There are people like Boteju, who conceive of Hūniyam as a deity not merely of Buddhist or Hindu origin, but as merely one manifestation of a universal deity that transcends all the various isms that divide the world. One may argue that this is the new path of worshiping deities among Sri Lankans. Either Boteju is ahead of the curve in this regard or he is merely engaged in a gimmick to attract devotees to a deity that seems to have attraction across the various religions of the island.

28  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Case study one The case studies at Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella. Fieldwork conducted 12/13/2009. Talata Kumari, a woman in her mid-thirties from Borella, was having difficulties with her co-workers and was almost ready to give up her job. Her mother who lived in a rural area of Sri Lanka visited her village temple and talked to the Buddhist priest regarding her daughter’s hardships at work. The priest asked Kumari’s mother to bring her horoscope, and after reading it, the priest noticed that Kumari was undergoing a bad period of her life. To counteract this malevolent cosmic influence, the priest advised Kumari’s mother to meet the village kaṭṭadiya and get some prayer threads that would alleviate Kumari’s workplace dilemma. The kat ̣ṭadiya looked at Kumari’s horoscope and advised her mother to proffer a special offering to Hūniyam for a week. Since Kumari was working in Colombo, the kaṭṭadiya advised her mother that Kumari should go to Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya in Borella and talk to the chief kapurāla there about conducting the ritual. As her mother advised, Kumari visited the temple and conducted a special ritual for Hūniyam. Kumari was not willing to explain the ritual; however, she said after the ritual she was able to get along well with her co-workers and within a week, she was promoted to an executive level position at the same company.17 In this situation, we see the continued importance of horoscopes in Sri Lankan culture. We also see that the fortunetellers and priests refer people to Hūniyam as a benevolent deity who can assist them with their problems. They would not refer these people to a demon. Thus, in these situations, Hūniyam is firmly perceived as a deity instead of a demon and benevolent rather than malevolent. According to Boteju, the following items are required to perform the Hūniyam pūjā and are provided by the supplicant: one king coconut, one regular coconut, seven fruits, seven kevili, 20 betel leaves, 21 pieces of money, puffed rice, honey, coconut oil, incense, wicks for the oil lamps, a curry made of seven different vegetables, betel nut flower, raw turmeric, white jasmine flower garlands, a white curtain, pinidiya (dew), raw white rice, musk, and turmeric powder.18 Before offering these items to Hūniyam, these items must be washed with white sandalwood and raw turmeric mixed with water. If people wish, they can arrange the fruits and kevili in a basket and offer them to Hūniyam. Boteju said the offerings must be covered with a clean white sheet and one must offer them with a pure heart. Case study two At Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella. Fieldwork conducted 08/3/2011. Boteju offered my husband, my father, and me some protective threads, chanting over them and tying them around our wrists in the same fashion as

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  29 Buddhist monks or Hindu priests do. They were yellow, red, and black. He explained the reason for the different colors in the bracelet. The three yellow threads represent the Buddha, dhamma, and saṅgha. These yellow threads were originally white and then dipped in turmeric water to give them a yellow color. The three red threads represent giri yakka ̄, tota yakka ̄, and abhimana yakkā. The three black threads are to represent kalu kumara, mahā kalu, and sanni yakka ̄. These yakkās all have roles in the daha ata sanniya ritual. The complete bracelet has nine knots and they are to represent nava arahadi budu guna.19

Hūniyam Dēvālaya at Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy The Nātha dēvālaya is located in Kandy in front of the Temple of the Tooth. The cool breeze off the beautiful Kandy Lake caresses the shrine and the soft drumming from the Temple of the Tooth creates a sacred atmosphere. Since so many people visit the Temple of the Tooth, the Nātha dēvālaya also attracts throngs of visitors. This temple was built during the reign of Wickramabāhu III of Gampola (reigned 1357–1374), predating its more famous neighbor, the Temple of the Tooth, by around two and a half centuries.20 During the Kandyan Period, the Nātha dēvālaya premises were the site for various important events, such as when the Buddhist priests determined the new kings’ royal name and as the location of the kings’ coronations. It is interesting to note that a Christian church is situated right behind the Nātha dēvālaya because of the proximity to such a prominent Buddhist site. It is said that when the British were in Kandy, they had no place to practice their religion; therefore, the colonial officers wrote a letter to the colonial secretary complaining of the situation and asking permission to build a Christian church. With the colonial secretary’s permission, they built a Wesleyan church among these Buddhist buildings.21 The kapumahtya of the Hūniyam dēvālaya located at the Nātha dēvālaya is W.G. Muthu Baṇḍāra. He has been working at this dēvālaya for 26 years. According to Muthu Baṇḍāra, former President Ransinha Premadasa donated the Hūniyam image to the temple in the 1980s.22 There are daily offerings to Hūniyam coinciding with the three offerings at the Temple of the Tooth. Muthu Baṇḍāra also stated that, unlike some other Hūniyam temples, this temple only serves as a blessing place. He also stated, some devotees might come and wish others harm and offer paňḍuru money, but as this is a ritual between the supplicant and the deity alone, with no priestly intermediary, he has no control over those situations. Muthu Baṇḍāra stated that the devotees of Hūniyam at this temple come from among the various ethnic and religious groups of the island, including: Sinhala, Tamil, Muslim, and even some Burger people, these latter being descendants of European colonists and sometimes of mixed marriages.23 One unique difference I noticed at this temple was the kapumahatya for the Hūniyam shrine has no connection with the Buddhist priest who presides over the Nātha dēvālaya; rather the kapumahatya answers to the basnāyaka nilame, the lay leader of the temple.24

30  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam The Nātha dēvālaya participates in the annual Essala perahära festival. However, the Hūniyam dēvālaya takes no active role in the festivities. One of the Buddhist priests who resides at Nātha dēvāla Temple, Rev. Elle, believes and performs various rituals in deity worship including those of Hūniyam. Rev. Elle stated that when he was young his uncle gave him the boon of the power to work with deities. His uncle said to him that the power was composed of water, or the ability to solve problems, and fire, the ability to create problems. His uncle further advised Rev. Elle if someone were to come to him seeking help, he must think about the situation three times before taking any actions, even if the supplicants were his own parents, as he must be completely objective and not treat any one supplicant with favor over another. Rev. Elle believes that Hūniyam is Däḍimuṇḍa’s prime minister. He believes that Hūniyam deviyo protects all Buddhist temples, even if they do not have a statue of Hūniyam. Therefore, he states, in every temple they light a pahana for Hūniyam. He further claims that before conducting any ritual the first step is to offer flowers and the other necessary things to Buddha. After that, he offers a coconut and betel flower to Hūniyam. The way the offerings are arranged may vary according to Hūniyam’s manifestation as benevolent or malevolent on that particular day. Case study one The case studies at Hūniyam Dēvālaya at Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Fieldwork conducted 12/17/2009. Rev. Elle said that there was a woman who each time when she cooked rice would find worms in the rice pot. When the woman told him this, Rev. Elle knew that he would be able to help her. However, it took him three times to accomplish the task. Rev. Elle said that he told the woman to cook the rice in front of him. When the rice was cooked, he opened the pot and noticed worms in the rice pot. Then Rev. Elle asked the woman to get the uncooked rice and give the pot to him. He cooked it in front of her. When the rice was cooked, he used the handle of a coconut spoon to mix the rice, took some rice out and made several rice balls. Rev. Elle blessed the rice balls and asked the woman to eat the rice. The woman was afraid to eat; however, she noticed the rice was clean so she ate. Rev. Elle said after eating the rice the woman told him that she felt a special energy coursing through her body. Then later that day, Rev. Elle asked the woman to cook rice by herself, and finally the woman was able to cook rice without any worms getting into the rice pot. Rev. Elle said the reason for worms in the rice pot was due to an Hūniyam curse done by someone to the woman. Compared to some of the early case studies, this indicates that Hūniyam still exhibits his malevolent character in some instances, and worshipers may still turn to him as a means to inflict harm on others. However, it also demonstrates that once properly propitiated, he can be turned into a benevolent entity. Thus, he remains in a state of flux between deity and demon in such situations.

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  31

Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa Käbälläva is a rural village in Kurunegala district. When you drive past green paddy fields and enter the temple, you will see a throng of people waiting for their turn to perform their rituals for Hūniyam. The name of the kapumahatya at this temple is Weerkkody Patiranalage Douglas Weerakkody. He has been working as the main kapumahatya for 22 years. His father Abraham Appuhamy served prior to him in the same capacity for 51 years. Weerakkody studied his mantra with his father and claimed that he heard the mantras from his father and memorized them. Weerakkody claims that he is working as the seventieth generation of his family in this position. According to Weerakkody, the name of the area where this temple is located is associated with Hūniyam. According to him, the folk story goes like this: in Andhra Pradesh, India, a demon who knew many mantras died, and when he was reincarnated, he was conceived in Queen Kamala’s womb. Following his birth, he started to demonstrate his demonic power. The demon did not want other people to learn his mantras, and therefore, he started to kill all the male villagers. This created quite the quandary for the Telugu king. The king, with the assistance of three powerful people, who knew the mantras, captured the demon. The three powerful people tied the body of the demon to a large copper mantra book.25 The king asked the three powerful people to take the demon away from Andhra Pradesh. He then put his heroes and the demon-prince on a ship and sent them away. The ship landed in Devundara, Sri Lanka. The three heroes untied the book from the demon’s back, left the book in Devundara, and took Hūniyam to the site where the current Hūniyam temple is located today. When they took two ropes off the demon, the power of the demon loosened the rest. The demon then started to run away and kill all the men in the nearby village. There was a holy man named Rājapakṣa Mudiyanse in this village who knew how to predict the future. People asked Mudiyanse to help capture the rampaging demon. Mudiyanse asked the god Kataragama to help capture the demon. One day Mudiyanse received a visit from Kataragama in a dream, and the god told him that Hūniyam was acting violently because of a bad incident that happened to him; however, he could be benevolent to people as well. Kataragama advised Mudiyanse to consult the goddess Pattinı ̄ regarding this matter. When Mudiyanse addressed the issue to the goddess Pattinı̄, she asked him to eat milk rice for three months with no salt. It is believed that eating food without salt can enable a human to see supernatural beings with the naked eye. Pattinı ̄ also asked Mudiyanse to make seven ropes out of the aerial roots of trees and use them to catch the demon. Mudiyanse ate milk rice with no salt for three months and on a full moon day when the demon was wandering around close by the well; he threw the seven ropes around his neck. Three ropes broke but the rest held the demon in place.26 When the goddess Pattinı̄ then asked the demon the reason he was killing, the demon said that his people insulted him. Pattinı ̄ then commanded him to

32  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam refrain from killing innocent people. She repeated the command three times and the third time the demon agreed to her demands. The usage of käbä (rope) and ellāva (catch) explains the place name, Käbälläva. The goddess Pattinı̄ gave this name to place. According to the legend, from that day forth, this temple has been dedicated to Hūniyam. The well near which Hūniyam was said to be captured is still there beside the temple but abandoned by the people. The temple priest, Sri Jinaratane, stated that there was a drought in this area and Hūniyam struck his cane upon the ground and water sprang forth at the place where the well is today. However, Hūniyam said the water is only for men; not for the women in the village. If a woman were to drink the water, she would become ill. Even today, women will not go near the abandoned well for any purpose. Weerakkody said that a correct date of the establishment of the Käbälläva Hūniyam dēvālaya is not mentioned anywhere. He believes that the dēvālaya was established during the Sı ̄tāwaka period (1521–1593), which places the founding of the temple in close proximity to the lifetime of Ariṭt ̣a Kivenḍu Perumāl, our suspected candidate as the prototype of Hūniyam. According to Weerakkody, this Hūniyam temple does not celebrate any special festivals such as perahära, as some of the other Hūniyam temples on the island do. However, he said the number of people who come to this place is quite extensive. The offerings are given to Hūniyam on a daily basis and three times a day. Devotees come to this place from all over the island and they are not only Buddhist, but also Hindu, Muslim, and Christian. Weerakkody said that if a well-conducted layperson wishes to see Hūniyam, with his mantras they would be able to see Hūniyam with their naked eye. He also went on to explain that in horoscopes, the astrologer categorizes people into three categories: deva, yakkā, and manusha (human). Those who are categorized as deva or manusha can be granted the sight to see Hūniyam. Case study one The case studies at Hūniyam dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa. Fieldwork conducted 12/17/2009. S.S. Jayatilaka is a 46-year-old schoolteacher from Kandy. Jayatilaka said that he was married for ten years and his marriage was in danger of falling apart. Jayatilaka said his wife, Shanthi decided to go back to her parents. Jayatilaka said his wife stayed with her parents for about a month and one day she decided to come home and told him that she met with a fortuneteller who said someone had placed a curse upon them to make them unhappy and separate. Jayatilaka said he had never believed in such things before and he used to make fun of people who did as he thought them to be uneducated. He said, even though living with his wife was miserable, being without her had proven to be even worse, and he wanted to do anything to bring happiness to his family. After discussing the situation with his wife, they went to an Hūniyam specialist and asked for help. Jayatilaka said that they went to Käbälläva Hūniyam Dēvālaya and conducted special rituals to Hūniyam for

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  33 seven days. He said he began to notice the difference from the first day of the ritual to the next day and he believed that Hūniyam saved their marriage. As a token he said whenever they have time, they like to go to the Hūniyam Dēvālaya, making offerings of baskets and say thank you to Hūniyam for saving their marriage. This then is another case where we find Hūniyam still exhibiting his dualistic nature. He is used to inflict harm but is also the means of removing the curse.27

Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya Aluthnuwara is a town about thirty miles away from Kandy. It is on the lefthand side on the Kandy Colombo road as you come from Kandy. One has to turn left at Hingula, a small bazaar. The temple there is dedicated to Däḍimuṇḍa and is well known as being especially beneficial for expectant mothers. Ladies are expected to promise flowers, coconut saplings, and other offerings to Aluthnuwara dēvālaya in return for a healthy baby. However, the Hūniyam dēvālaya at this location also holds a special place for many devotees. Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna is the kapumahatya for Däḍimuṇḍa Temple. He has been serving the temple for about 20 years. Even though, he does not act as the kapumahtya for the Hūniyam temple he is the lay custodian for the whole temple.28 According to Karunaratna, Aluthnuwara dēvālaya is associated with the Kandy Viṣṇu dēvālaya, and the structures bear architectural resemblance to one another. In the thirteenth century CE, Parakumba II’s queen gave orders to build this dēvālaya. According to the legend, Viṣṇu’s prime minister was the god Däḍimuṇḍa, the main god of this temple, and Hūniyam used to work for Däḍimuṇḍa as a minister. When people came to Däḍimuṇḍa seeking help, he made Hūniyam take care of malevolent matters. Since Däḍimuṇḍa wears a Kandyan king’s clothing, some believe that he was an accomplished king who was elevated by his subjects to the level of a god following his earthly demise. In 1500, the Portuguese attacked and looted the dēvālaya. According to Karunaratna, some Hūniyam practitioners believe that when Hūniyam travels at night one can smell the jasmine flower fragrance from his body and see that he wears white clothes. Therefore, many devotees offer jasmine flowers to the deity. In addition, the mulutan pūja29 ̄ is performed on Mondays, Wednesdays, and Saturdays. Only men may make the food offering. When the temple cooks prepare the rice, they always use the temple paddy field rice. When devotees bring the food offering, they cook with extra attention, such as filtering the water faucet with a cotton cloth or using special utensils or surfaces for the preparation. However, the rice and the vegetables are bought from local stores. If an act of pollution, known as kili, such as a death or first menstruation occurs within the temple boundaries, the kapumahatyas do not open the dēvāla doors for three days nor do they conduct any offerings. According to

34  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Karunaratna, the devotees who come to this dēvālaya are not only Buddhist but also Hindus, Muslim, and Christians.30 When I enquired as to the connection between his dēvālaya and another Aluthnuwara dēvālaya I had spotted on the main road, Karaunaratna said the dēvālaya by the main road, although it claims to be a branch dēvālaya of his temple, has no link and merely serves to mislead people with the main purpose of making money. Karaunaratna also stated that after taking the dēvālaya’s main statue of Viṣṇu to the Kandy Viṣṇu branch, the dēvāla workers cleaned the floor and lit a pahana for Däḍimuṇḍa and Hūniyam. He said that until recently the people who worked for the dēvālaya owned property around the dēvālaya. The people who played drums and horns lived in a specific part of the village and the area is still known as Vihāra Mulla, which means the temple corner. The workers who painted the dēvāla walls lived in an area called Madagoda. However, today these areas are large Muslim communities and, unlike older days, they are not willing to pay taxes to the dēvālaya. As a result, the income of the dēvālaya is suffering. Karunaratna said that because politicians are concerned with losing the Muslim vote, they shy away from enacting new laws stating that all the people who are living in the dēvāla property must pay taxes to the dēvālaya. The relationship then between this particular temple and the surrounding Muslim community seems to be in sharp contrast to that found at other temples where we have seen that Muslims come to Hūniyam as supplicants. Rather, at this temple there seems to be some degree of animosity between the two communities. Whether this is due to the Muslim encroachment on land perceived as sacred space by those who worship Hūniyam or is part of the larger friction between the Muslim minority and the Sinhala majority is perhaps difficult to discern. However, there are obviously other factors at work than issues of sacred space alone. Under the 1931 Vihāra De ̄vāla Gam Panatha, Buddhist Temporalities Act, the British introduced government regulation of Buddhist temples to Sri Lanka. All matters regarding the management of the properties belonging to any Buddhist temple and dēvālaya in Sri Lanka were placed in the hands of a trustee appointed by the public trustee. For example, Diyawadana Nilame, the lay leader of the Temple of the Tooth and Basnāyaka Nilames, the lay leader of the dēvāle, are trustees. Other than the Dal ̣adā Māligāwa,31 Atamastane32 in Anurādhapura, and Sri Pādasthane,33 the public trustee has the power to exempt temples from the operation of this act. The trustees are elected in the above three institutions. Case study one This case study was conducted on 08/15/2010. Kushanthi is a Buddhist woman in her mid-thirties. She was not able to have a child for many years and she said her husband’s family started to mistreat her. Kushanthi said in the beginning her husband was upset with his parent’s mistreatment of her; however, eventually he too started to express his

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  35 displeasure regarding her inability to give birth to a child. After seeing many doctors who all said there were no reasons why she should not be able to have a child, the doctors asked to examine her husband, who was not pleased with the idea. However, he finally consented, and soon thereafter, they were able to conceive. Later, Kushanthi gave birth to a healthy baby girl. Kushanthi said that she thought this would make her in-laws stop harassing her. However, her in-laws continued to badger her for not giving them a grandson. Kushanthi said she went to Aluthnuwara dēvālaya and offered flowers to both Däḍimuṇḍa and Hūniyam and promised that if she gave birth to a son, she would come to the temple every year with her family and offer flowers and bathe the bo ̄ tree with milk. Kushanthi said she did not go to a fortuneteller or any other ritual specialist; however, she knew that Aluthnuwara dēvālaya is famous for women to come and seek help from these two deities. A few months later Kushanthi was pregnant with a baby and the next year she gave birth to a boy. Kushanthi said her son is the family’s only grandson, and as his mother, she now gets special respect from her husband’s family. Every year on her son’s birthday Kushanthi, with her husband and two children, visits Aluthnuwara dēvālaya and offers flowers and milk to both Däḍimuṇḍa and Hūniyam. Kushanthi believes that she was able to have two children with the blessings of these two deities. In this case study, we find that the social stigmatism associated with infertility remains prevalent in Sinhala society and that turning to deities remains a common means of dealing with the situation when modern medicine appears to have failed. We also see Hūniyam’s benevolence and protective aspects as he grants the boon of a son and thus extends his protection to the mother who is afflicted with abusive in-laws.34

Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya Embekke Dēvālaya, a famous place renowned for its wood artwork, is situated in the Embekke village, three kilometers from the Perādeniya Botanical Gardens. King Vikramabāhu III of Gampola (1357–1374) built it in the fourteenth century. Hūniyam dēvālaya here is built close to the main temple in the Embekke Dēvālaya, in a courtyard where originally the hewisi35 were played. There are many legends that tell how this dēvālaya came into existence. One popular belief is that one of the king’s consorts, Henakanda Biso Baṇḍāra, in association with a drummer named Rangama, were the founders of the dēvāle. They had a dream in which the god Kataragama appeared and therefore this multi-storied temple is dedicated to him. In recent years, the Embekke Dēvālaya has become one of the more popular tourist destinations in Kandy because of its fine architecture, including carved wooden pillars with engravings of swans, lions, bulls, elephants and other such animals. On these pillars, one will frequently find motifs such as leaves, flowers, soldiers, dancing women, and even mermaids. Embekke is world renowned for woodcarvings in the pillars of the drummers’ hall, which are considered some of the finest examples of Sri Lankan artisanship.

36  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam Apart from the pillars, the most striking feature of the temple is the roof that has only one central beam. Twenty-six smaller rafters are affixed to the roof to support it. Long wooden nails that bear a resemblance to the spokes of a cartwheel have been used extensively to put the roof together. The main temple is 28 feet long, 23 feet and seven inches wide and is two-stories. A verandah surrounds the building along its three sides. There is an image house in the Embekke Dēvālaya, too, known as vāhalkada. The resting place, or the ambalama, and a throne are situated outside the temple premises but are considered part of the structure. The Hūniyam dēvālaya here is known as Gambāra Dēvālaya. The kapumahtya here, Punchi Banda, is in his seventies. He stated that Embekke has given the main focus to Kataragama. However, Kataragama devotees always visit the Hūniyam dēvālaya. He also stated that murutan bath36 is offered to Hūniyam on Wednesday and Saturday. Kekulu rice and various vegetables are the main dishes. Banda also stated that only blessings are performed at this temple and he would not conduct any harmful acts toward people using Hūniyam’s powers.37 An old folk story about this temple is well known among people of Embekke. One day when the King Buwanekabāhu IV of Gampola was working in the fields, the kaduru plant injured the king and the blood sprayed up into the air. The king’s advisors told the king that a god is unhappy with him. Therefore, he should take some kekulu rice to the temple and light a pahana for Embekke dēvālaya. Following their advice, Buwanekabāhu took kekulu rice to the temple. However, he forgot to take some oil for the pahana. He reached for a nearby pond and used some water to light the pahana, and miraculously the pahana was lit. People believe that it happened because of Kataragama’s and Hūniyam’s supremacy. Banda said there is a doorframe from King Buwanekabāhu IV of Gampola located in this temple. Case study one This case study was conducted on 08/16/2010. According to Banda, a drummer at the dēvālaya had a rash on his foot for a long time. He consulted a number of doctors. However, he finally decided to take the advice from the kapumahatya at the Embekke dēvālaya. The kapumahtya asked the drummer to promise Hūniyam and Kataragama that if the rash would go away within a week, he would go to the main Kataragama Temple and play the drum in front of the two gods. Less than in a week later, his rash was nowhere to be found. Ever since, the drummer goes to Kataragama and Hūniyam for all his health-related dilemmas. Case study two This case study was conducted on 08/17/2010. Perera is a man in his mid-twenties. He said he inherited several paddy fields from his father. Perera has three other siblings, who he says believe that

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  37 their father gave Perera the best land. According to him, these siblings visited an Hūniyam temple to curse him with bad luck. Perera said when his father was alive the paddy fields produced a great deal of rice but since he started to cultivate the land, every year when it is time to harvest, the crops have been destroyed by heavy rain or bugs. For several years, the harvest was destroyed, and one day his wife told him that they should go and seek help from a fortuneteller. The fortuneteller told Perera that someone in his family had cursed him. Furthermore, he said that Perera needed to remove the four pots buried in the four corners of his land by an Hūniyam ritualist to have Hūniyam protect his land. Perera contacted the local Hūniyam ritualists at the Embekke Dēvālaya. The ritual was done early in the morning. Perera said when they dug the four corners, they found four small pots buried deep in the ground with some coins and some copper plates with some nails wrapped around them. Perera said the Hūniyam ritualists took the pots out and buried four new pots blessed by Hūniyam, so no one would be able to curse his paddy fields and they would produce healthy crops each year. Perera said since that year he has always had good crops and he is now remodeling his house, and his wife is expecting their first baby.38 Case study three This case study was conducted on 08/17/2010. Namali is a woman in her late-sixties. She said her husband passed away and her children all got married and left the house. Namali said that ever since her children were married, they never seemed to like to visit her and when they did even short visits always erupted into arguments between her and her children. One day she went to Kandy to visit a relative and when she brought up this matter, the relative told Namali that she should seek help from a fortuneteller. Namali’s relative took her to a well-known fortuneteller in Kandy, and according to the fortuneteller, several of her children’s relatives did not like Namali’s children to interact with her. Thus, they had cursed her to feel angry toward her children and vice versa. Namali, with a Hūniyam ritualist’s help, visited the Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya and conducted a special offering to Hūniyam. The ritual was conducted for seven days from 6  a.m.–7 a.m. Namali said she offered seven baskets with seven different fruits, flowers, seven betel leaves, and seven coconuts. The final day she offered a picture of Hūniyam to the shrine and vowed to Hūniyam that if harmony returns to her family, she would continue the same ritual once a year. Namali said after the ritual she noticed day by day that harmony seemed to be restored, and by the next Sinhala New Year, her children and their families were all able to celebrate without any arguments. When I met Namali at the Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya, she said this is the fifth year of her visiting the place and offering the flowers and other items to Hūniyam for his blessings to keep Namali’s family together.39 Again, we see the expression of social tensions, wherein the traditional extended family system seems to have been broken by issues of urbanization

38  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam and globalization with, to the adherent’s perspective, a bit of sorcery thrown into the mix. We also see again the importance of the fortuneteller in referring their customers to the ritual specialists who are able to interact with the deity on their behalf to remedy the situation. In addition, once more, we see that Hūniyam is perceived as a protective deity who is willing and able to help those who propitiate him to resolve their problems.

Conclusion As Eliade mentioned “man becomes aware of the sacred because it manifests itself, shows itself, as something wholly different from the profane.” This is demonstrably the case among Hūniyam worshippers in Sri Lanka. They believe that any place associated with a hierophany, especially the physical manifestation of the god himself, has rendered that location sacred space. The folk stories associated with the Hūniyam temples relate such hierophanies. Hūniyam’s devotees have, in some instances, sought to live as near as possible to the deity. This is in line with Eliade’s notion that “the religious man [seeks] to live as near as possible to the Center of the World,” the center being those sacred spaces associated with the divine.40 This is best demonstrated at the Aluth nuwara dēvālaya where the dēvāla workers have traditionally lived in the dēvāla premise. It also indicates that Hūniyam’s transition from demon to deity has likely been underway for some time, as one would not expect to find this sort of longing for proximity if he were perceived as merely a demonic entity. We have seen that to be the case when looking at the apprehension that has been shown toward including Hūniyam in perahära festivities elsewhere. In Buddhism, as we know, there is an obvious hierarchy in terms of the priesthood and a structure associated with the faith itself; however, from my observations of the Hūniyam temples and the associated priests, I noticed that a corresponding hierarchy and structure is greatly lacking. The offerings, s ́lokas, imagery, religious raiment, and many other features vary from one temple to another. In fact, in some instances where there are more than one Hūniyam temple in close proximity to another there seems to be a high degree of competition for resources and some level of animosity between the temples. In addition, there is little in the way of textual works to tie the various temples together. The Purāna Kabale Patuna, a text dealing with Hūniyam’s origins, seems to be fairly standard; however, this text deals with legend and not ritual. Likewise, there seems to be no overarching power structure. In fact, in some temples, the kapurāla answers to a layperson or a Buddhist priest, and there is no pecking order among the various kapurālas and their associated temples. Some scholars believe the incorporation of such deities into the Buddhist pantheon is a necessity that brings freshness to the religion, and provides worshipers a power to turn to who will deal with the mundane problems of everyday life that Buddha would ignore. Whatever the case may be, Hūniyam, the deity and the practice, are now integral components of Sri Lankan life.

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  39 From the selection of babies’ names and determination of horoscopes, which is typically associated with astrology and serves as another tie to Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, to the worship of the deity in his own temples, Hūniyam is well on his way to a higher position in the Buddhist pantheon in Sinhalese society. As we have seen at many of the temples discussed in this chapter, Hūniyam is not an entity to whom only Buddhist or Hindus turn to help deal with their problems. Christians and Muslims are also supplicating themselves to this deity in the hopes of overcoming their problems, despite the fact that Hindus, Christians, and Muslims all have deities to whom they can turn in the hour of need. If the need for additional help is so persistent among the faithful of religions with such powerful and actively engaged deities, one ought not to be surprised to find that need among Buddhists, who have no such deity in scriptural Buddhism. Today, the lives of the Sri Lankan people are molded by the teachings of a mix of multiple religions and their beliefs have become essentially multireligious. Thus, perhaps Mr. Boteju, the kapurāla at the Borella Temple, is a pioneer in depicting Hūniyam as a deity who transcendent in his appeal to the practitioners of the various faiths found in Sri Lanka. Perhaps this facet of Hūniyam’s nature is what is driving his transition from a more purely demonic entity to a more benevolent and compassionate deity. Indeed, it seems that Hūniyam’s transformative character is what supplicants most readily associate with him today. His ability then to remove obstacles and help in personal transformations is key to his appeal.

Notes 1 Wijesekera, 211. 2 Tundeṇiya, 40–41. 3 He is considered the treasurer of the god Upulvan and protector of Buddhism in Sri Lanka. Also he is the head god at Aluthnuwara. 4 Rev. Siddhartha, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. 5 Jayawardena and Moragoda, 165. 6 Claus, Diamond, and Mills, 133. 7 Appuhami, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. 8 W.G. Nirmala, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. 9 Maharoof, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. 10 Nimal Jayasūriya, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. 11 H.A. Mallika, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. 12 P.W. Sriyani Perera, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka.

40  Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam 13 P.W. Sriyani Perera, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. 14 Fathima Maharoof, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. 15 Fathima Maharoof, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. 16 W.P. Boteju, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 13, 2009, Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella, Sri Lanka. 17 Talata Kumari, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 13, 2009, Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella, Sri Lanka. 18 W.P. Boteju, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 13, 2009, Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella, Sri Lanka. 19 The Nine qualities (Nava Arahadi Buduguna) that every Buddha will demonstrate (These qualities are contained in the Ithipiso baghava chant. They are as follows: (1) Araham: The Accomplished Destroyer of Defilements; (2) Samma Sambuddho: A Buddha Perfected by Himself; (3) Vijja-Carana-Sampanno: Perfect in Clear Knowledge and Compassionate Conduct; (4) Sugato: Supremely Good in Presence and in Destiny; (5) Lokavidu: Knower of the Worlds; (6) Annuttaro Purisadamma-Sārathi: Incomparable Master of Those to be Tamed; (7) Satthā Devā Manussānam: Teacher of Devas and Humanity; (8) Buddho: Awakened and Awakener; (9) Bhagavā: The Lord of Skillful Means Apportioning Dhamma. 20 World Heritage Convention, UNESCO, “Sacred City of Kandy,” 1992–2011, http://whc.unesco.org/pg.cfm?cid=31&id_site=450. 21 Skeen, 30. 22 van der Horst, 174–179. 23 W.G. Muthu Baṇḍāra, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Sri Lanka. 24 W.G. Muthu Baṇḍāra, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Sri Lanka. 25 That is the traditional metal used for this purpose. Copper is durable and is the metal usually used for yantra, talisman etc. By usage it has assumed a sacred significance as well provide some information regarding this sort of text. 26 Weerkkody Patiranalage Douglas Weerakkody, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa, Sri Lanka. 27 S.S. Jayatilaka, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 17, 2009, Hūniyam dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa, Sri Lanka. 28 Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. 29 Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. 30 Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. 31 “Daḷadā māligāwa was first named Daladā-ge meaning the House of the Tooth Relic. The Dal ̣adā Temple in Kandy (Senkadagala) was first built by Wimaladhrarmasūriya I (1592–1603) A.D. the rains [sic] of which are no longer extant. Wimadharmasūriya II (1687–1707 A.D.) then erected a three storied building to house the Tooth Relic. The two-storied building opposite was built by King Narēndrasingha (1707–1739)” from Anuradha Senaviratna, Kandy, 84. 32 These are eight main places of worship in the Ancient Sacred city of Anurādhapura, Sri Lanka. These places are valued for their artistic, historical and archaeological

Temples, shrines, and sacred spaces of Hūniyam  41 value. They are Sri Mahāa Bōdiya, Ruwanwelisaya, Thupārāmaya, Lovāmahāpaya, Abhayagiriya, Jetavanārāmaya, Mirisavetiya, and Lankarāmaya. 33 Adam’s Peak is the most sacred mountain in Sri Lanka (7,360 feet), where according to Buddhists, Lord Buddha had left his footprint on his third visit to Sri Lanka on the request of God Sumana Sama. Hindus believe that it is the footprint of Siva and Muslims and Christians believe it to be of Adams. The followers of all four major religions in Sri Lanka revere this place. 34 Kushanthi interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. 35 This is a special musical tradition in Buddhist rituals and ceremonies. 36 Muru means god and bath means food. The food made for god is murutan bath. 37 Punchi Banda, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. 38 Perera, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Embekke, Sri Lanka. 39 Namali, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Embekke, Sri Lanka. 40 Eliade, 43.

Bibliography Claus, Peter J., Sarah Diamond, and Margaret Ann Mills. South Asian Folklore: An Encyclopedia: Afghanistan, Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka. New York: Routledge, 2003. Eliade, Mircea. The Sacred and the Profane: The Nature of Religion. San Diego, CA: Harcourt Brace Jovanovich, 1987. Jayawardena, Kumari, and Jennifer Moragoda. N.U. Jayawardena: The First Five Decades. Colombo: N.U. Jayawardena Trust, 2008. Skeen, George J.A. A Guide to Kandy: A Handbook of Information, Useful Alike to the Visitor and the Resident. Colombo: A.M. and J. Ferguson, Observer Office, 1903. ̆ ̆ Tundeṇiya, S.M.S. Uḍunuvara Ambă kkē De ̄vālaya: Uḍunuvara Ambăkkē Dev̄ ālaya Piḷibanda Vimasumak. Colombo: Ă s. Goḍagē saha Sahōdarayō, 2002. van der Horst, Josine. Who Is He Doing: Religious Rhetoric and Performances in Sri Lanka during R. Premadasa’s Presidency (1989–1993). Sri Lanka Studies in the Humanities and the Social Sciences, 2. Amsterdam: Vrije Universiteit Press, 1995. Wijesekera, Nandadēva. Deities and Demons, Magic and Masks, Part II. Colombo: Gunasena, 1989. World Heritage Convention, UNESCO. “Sacred City of Kandy.” 1992–2011. http:// whc.unesco.org/pg.cfm?cid=31&id_site=450

3 Iconography of Hūniyam

Today in Sri Lanka, people from a variety of religious backgrounds and faiths worship Hūniyam. In different parts of Sri Lanka Hūniyam statues are depicted in ways that represent the regional variations of the island, especially in terms of attire. The variety of styles and iconographic types of Hūniyam reflect the deity’s broad geographical appeal, and yet today one finds images of Hūniyam everywhere. Hūniyam images began to appear relatively recently, in the ancient places of worship on the island and in other sacred spaces throughout the nation, such as beneath a tree alongside other South Asian deities or on a small table specially made for the deities in public spaces. As many South Asian deities are depicted by means of rich symbolism, Hūniyam imagery is steeped in finely detailed iconography. In this chapter, I hope to examine and discuss the iconography of Hūniyam as it depicts his transition from demon to deity through an evolution from malevolent images toward benevolent imagery; as such, we will find some images fit into a transitionary phase. Since Hūniyam has been viewed as both malevolent and benevolent in nature, his iconography logically reflects this dualistic nature. In sections on malevolent and benevolent imagery as well as transitionary images that seem to blur the lines between the two aspects, I begin by providing a mantra of Hūniyam. I was fortunate to be the first scholar to photograph some of these images. Each mantra represents only one sample from among many mantras dedicated to Hūniyam. I believe those selected are the most descriptive of Hūniyam and thus the most appropriate for the given section. While I will present the malevolent, transitionary, and benevolent images separately, it is important to note that there are some similarities to be found among the three categories. Let us first turn our attention to the malevolent side of the iconography of Hūniyam.

Hūniyam as a malevolent deity Sahasigatha puliguwan dakunata wadiga kaduwak Mukaye le polagaku gath sirasa seda palu pasin uth DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-3

Iconography of Hūniyam  43 Nagi turaga vahane oddi suniyam devata dan Mama dena puda naraba en divas la sanekin.1 Translation: You with a body like burning coals, with a sword in the right hand, in your mouth holding a blood viper, with matted hair, with five snake hoods on your head, riding on your horse, divinely look at the offerings that I am offering you and come quickly. In his malevolent aspect, Hūniyam is frequently depicted as carrying a fiery pot or torch in one hand and in the other hand a sword, representing his power as judge and punisher (this is of course an interpretation for which we do not have evidence at this point), with his mount a white mare. He wears red, white, and yellow clothes, colors typically associated with the traditional clothing of the Kandyan kings. Sometimes, we can also see Hūniyam carrying a staff in his right hand. The particular staff in the immediately preceding photo appears to be most closely related to that which is brandished by Yama and signifies death.2 Interestingly, tales associate Hūniyam’s staff with the ability to kill dogs that harass him as he makes his rounds of temples. Even more interesting, for this particular study, is the fact that Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, the probable historical figure upon whom Hūniyam was based, was also associated with the daṇḍa. In the song that was composed by his political rival it is mentioned that Perumāl came to Lanka with the daṇḍa as a sannyasin and gave up his spiritual life for his lust for power.3 The shrine in Figure 3.1 is reflective of many such displays in that all three categories of images are presented together. One finds benevolent, transitionary, and malevolent icons to indicate Hūniyam’s monthly transitionary cycle from malevolence during the waning phases of the moons and benevolence during the waxing phases. I asked Boteju why this is the case and he had no firm answer. However, this appears to be a microcosmic example of the larger transition that the deity is experiencing, as he was a malevolent, demonic entity during the time when his history was lost in darkness, and now, he is emerging into the light of the modern era as a benevolent deity. In some images, Hūniyam is portrayed as a two-armed figure. Boteju, the head priest of the Hūniyam temple in Borella, indicates that when Hūniyam was depicted in this manner he had not yet attained a prominent position as a deity and that the later development of Hūniyam with four arms represents his power. In prevalent poster images, Hūniyam holds a sword facing down and a mace in his left arms. In his right hands, he has a trident, a characteristic emblem of Śiva, and the aforementioned fiery pot. The depiction of South Asian deities with multiple appendages has its roots in the ancient texts. Various scholars have postulated the development and purposes behind the creation of sacred art in this particular style; however, for the purposes of

44  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.1 Both malevolent and benevolent Hūniyam statues (clay and plaster) and pictures displayed at Divinuvara Temple. The pictures are printed at a modern printing press. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

this study, it is more important to discern what its purpose is today.4 Hūniyam tends to hold most of those items that are attributed to him in oral traditions and which are found in the Kabale Patuna and are represented in a form that his worshipers will understand. However, he is sometimes depicted with items intended to tie him to higher gods of the various pantheons to emphasize and increase his syncretic nature. Thus, we find the dharmachakra of Buddhism, the symbol of aum for Hinduism, the Christian cross, and the crescent moon and star of Islam, all bearing witness to Hūniyam’s cross-religious appeal. Similar to many other statues and murals, Hūniyam is dressed in royal attire. As here, most of the time Hūniyam’s clothes are red and white. Let us examine the supplication below to gain a better picture of his malevolent side of Hūniyam. You hold the cane (sōlu) to plant it in Sri Lanka Your appearance delights the mortals who see you It is my time to perform this ritual [ya ̄gaya] well O god who is in charge of the country, come into this flower throne.5 In many of the malevolent Hūniyam pictures and statues, he has five snakes wrapped around his head. In legends concerning Hūniyam, it is stated that he left his father’s palace and dwelt in the jungle and became associated with snakes. According to Boteju, the five snakes frequently found in the deity’s

Iconography of Hūniyam  45 images represent his wives: Takari, Makari, Yami, Yamaduthi, and Kāla Rakśhi. This runs contrary to Kapferer’s statement that there are only four wives.6 The imagery collected in this fieldwork illustrates the fallacy of his assertion. I think the most important iconographic characteristic of Hūniyam seems to be the snake ornamentation. However, it is important to point out that snakes have a protective function. It is said that during the fourth week of the Buddha’s meditation under the bo ̄ tree, when the heavy rain started to pour upon him, the mighty king serpents, Mucalinda, protected the Buddha from the rain with his hood. It also calls to mind stories of Sinhala tales of Viṣṇu’s thousand-hooded snake Shesha. Apart from these stories, snakes are often found in Sri Lankan folk stories, and snakes are recognized as protective animals. Especially in villages, people believe that snakes protect temple valuables such as jewelry offered by devotees, and sometimes people believe that when someone dies, they may come back as a snake to protect their loved ones. With this evidence, one can argue that we can look at snakes as an animal that protects others and Hūniyam, who often is viewed a protector of villages and wears snakes on his body in relationship to this protective duty. Hūniyam paintings and statues also frequently depict him with a yellow halo, occasionally accompanied by some red mixed with the yellow. Frequently in depictions of deities, the subject is shown with a cobra as a garland. According to Heinrich Zimmer, the use of serpents is symbolic rather than literal, and frequently alludes to water, life energy, guardianship, and shrewdness.7 Given the similarities between Hūniyam-related snake imagery and that of Śiva, combined with the frequent presence of tridents, leopard skin, which is found more often in the transitionary and benevolent images, and other Śaivite imagery, it seems that Hūniyam’s iconography is modeled in part on that of Śiva. Furthermore, Śiva carries a trident and a fiery pot, wears a skull and the crescent moon in the matted locks piled high upon his head. We notice the pot of fire in the upper left hand. Thus, the fiery pot need not be construed as a malevolent object. In fact, it can be a votive illumination or merely function as a source of light in the darkness, both literal and metaphorical, and it is one of the constants found among the various forms of Hūniyam imagery: malevolent, transitionary, and benevolent. Considering that many Hūniyam legends deal with his nocturnal exploits, it is logical to find him in possession of such a device. The statue in Figure 3.2, from the Baseline Road Temple, is another Hūniyam statue depicting the deity’s malevolent form. The statue is typically not revealed to devotees, but covered with a curtain and placed next to the main Hūniyam statue in a glass display. The dēvāla kapurāl ̣a, Jayasūriya, showed it to me and was kind enough to permit me to take a quick picture. The devotees who were behind me were joyous to see unexpectedly the special statue. Jayasūriya said the artist of this white statue is not known but that the statue is from India. The sword is somewhat small in size and the deity is holding a torch instead of his ubiquitous fiery pot.

46  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.2 A white Hūniyam statue made of plaster manifesting his malevolent form at the Baseline Road Temple. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

The statue from the Lunava Temple (Figure 3.3) holds many similarities with the one at the Baseline Road Temple, and it was also hidden in a special place at the temple. The Lunava statue is not all white and is smaller. Both horses have their right foot raised. In both statues, the deity is wearing similar lower garments. The sword, which we will see in some transitionary images, is brandished in a belligerent manner in these two malevolent images. Likewise, the fiery pot is replaced in these two images by a torch, which is wielded more as a weapon rather than a source of illumination. Under careful scrutiny, the Lunava statue appears to have a third eye, a rare feature among Hūniyam images and yet another connection with Śiva. At Belanvila Temple another statue (Figure 3.4) that is rarely displayed to the general public represents the malevolent nature of the deity. However, the kapurāl ̣a of the Belanvila Temple was willing to give me a few quick seconds to take pictures. The five snakes generally found upon his head are missing in this statue. They have been replaced with large locks of matted hair, with only a single snake hood protruding from the top of his head. As Witz stated in his

Iconography of Hūniyam  47

Figure 3.3 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Lunava. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Figure 3.4  Malevolent Hūniyam (clay) at Belanvila. Source: (Photo by Dr. Sudath Gunasekara.)

48  Iconography of Hūniyam study, this hairstyle is a clear sign of Hūniyam’s origin in South. The exaggerated red in his eyes, the blood oozing from the viper in his mouth, and the fangs clearly reveal the nature of this deity, as they are typical for Yakṣas. Aside from the face, there are many other elements of malevolent iconography. If we recall what Mr. Boteju of the Borella Temple stated concerning such images, the multiple arms categorize the deity as a malevolent deity. In his right hand, he is carrying a sword in a fighting posture, and unfortunately, the second right arm is not showing in the pictures that I have taken. In one left hand, he appears to be squeezing the life from a snake, and the other holds his reins. People offer fresh flowers as garlands and fill the front tray Hūniyam has in front of him with jasmine flowers. As we will recall, jasmines factor into the legends concerning the deity’s nighttime exploits. Among other images on display with this statue, one finds to the lower left-hand side a painting of another malevolent entity, Watuka Yakkā. This image serves as a point of comparison and contrast with the imagery of Hūniyam, as the Watuka Yakkā image more closely reflects the traditional imagery of the demons. While Watuka Yakkā has three eyes, Hūniyam has only two. However, it is very clear that the demons have many other things in common, such as fangs, angry facial expression, potbelly, blood in their eyes, and they are biting an animal. The attributes found in the Watuka Yakkā image were much more prevalent in the more overtly malevolent forms of Hūniyam found at other temples, as one can see below in Figure 3.4 from the Nātha dēvāla in Kandy. The painting in Figure 3.5 is far different from most of the malevolent forms of Hūniyam found during my fieldwork and as we have seen above much more closely in line with the traditional imagery of demons in the Sinhala Buddhist context. The color of the body is blue, and the multiple arms carry a sword in an aggressive position, a flaming discus, a fiery pot, and a knife. The mural shows a headgear with five snake hoods attached, a kind of a crown, and again, we can see the matted hair Witz described in his observations of Hūniyam. The matted hair is a characteristic of ascetics and therefore also of Śiva. The fangs, reddish eyes, the protruding tongue reminiscent of images of Kālī, and a necklace made of what appear to be eyeballs are all indicative of the deity’s malevolence. Again, the potbelly and the overall physique of the body only serve to augment that projection. In addition, the background of the print displays a fiery landscape reminiscent of some sinister otherworldly setting (Figure 3.6). The statue in Figure 3.7 is located at the main Hūniyam temple at Lunava, kept locked up in a back room. The main priest, Rev. Siddhartha, was kind enough to let me take pictures of it. According to Rev. Siddhartha, the image has been housed at the Lunava Temple for a long time and he is not sure of the date or from what source the statue was introduced to the temple.8 The statue shows Hūniyam seated on his horse with a torch in his left hand and a sword in his right hand. Hūniyam’s left foot is placed on his right thigh and the right foot is hanging down. This is the only image I have seen with

Iconography of Hūniyam  49

Figure 3.5  Watuka Yakkā (painting) at Belanvila. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Figure 3.6  Malevolent form of Hūniyam (painting) at Nātha dēvāla. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

50  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.7  Malevolent Hūniyam (metal) at Lunava. Side view. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Hūniyam placing his one foot in this manner. It is somewhat similar to the posture of royal ease (lalitāsana) typically seen when the deity is sitting on a throne or platform. Furthermore, because the horse is so small, one must wonder whether the figure was placed on the horse later. In this statue, Hūniyam displays a clear malevolent nature with fangs and angry facial expression. Hūniyam has snake hoods on his head and snakes around his neck and chest area. No snakes are found on other parts of his body as we have seen in other malevolent images. The decorative piece on his chest appears to be a pendant hanging from a necklace. It is unclear if this was part of the original piece or a later addition, but it gives the image a regal nature. The deity seems well out of proportion to his mount, and while this is true of many of the god’s images, in most other cases the mount is depicted behind the deity and is smaller from an effort at providing depth and perspective to the image. In this case, however, it seems ungainly and otherworldly. It is difficult to judge how old it is or from whence it comes. The Aembawa image (Figure 3.8) is a clearly malevolent form of Hūniyam. Compared to the more common five snakes, there are only three snakes on

Iconography of Hūniyam  51

Figure 3.8  Malevolent form of Hūniyam (clay) at Aembawa. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

his head in this image. Yet again, we see the matted or dreadlocked black hair, massive, protruding eyes, the nearly ubiquitous viper in his fanged mouth, and snakes around his body. Multiple arms portray another form of Hūniyam that clearly is firmly in the demonic aspect. The front left hand holds a trident, and the back left arm holds a fiery pot both elements associated with Śiva. I also believe that the fiery pot Hūniyam carries does not necessarily categorize him as a malevolent deity. In many faiths, including Hinduism and Buddhism, fire is an important ritualistic element. The back right arm holds the sword in a fighting position. The color red makes the nature of Hūniyam threatening. Somewhat surprisingly, the front right hand is open in the abhaya mudra, the gesture of protection or fearlessness that perhaps represents the earliest phase of Hūniyam’s transformation toward benevolence. In contrast, a small utterly benevolent Hūniyam image (figure 49) stands in a shrine roughly a foot in height and right in front of the main Hūniyam shrine of Aembawa. While there are many differences to be found among these various malevolent images of Hūniyam, one can also ascertain unifying features of the

52  Iconography of Hūniyam category. Those on horseback are armed and in threatening postures. In the standing poses, Hūniyam frequently displays classical demonic imagery: fanged mouth biting a viper; bulbous, protruding eyes; multiple arms; matted hair; and lethal weaponry. These are the elements of a Yakṣa that Hūniyam begins to shed in his transitionary imagery, and once we arrive at his benevolent images, one finds an almost completely different iconographic representation. Let us turn our attention then to the transitionary images.

Hūniyam as a deity in transition As we have seen throughout this study, Hūniyam started his career as a malevolent Yakṣa. Through an ongoing transition, he is evolving into a benevolent deity. The following images capture various stages of that transition. The bronze image in Figure 3.9 is a transitionary form of Hūniyam at the Borella Temple and reveals some royal attributes. As in other images, snakes factor prominently. However, the common five snakes on his head are missing in this statue, replaced by royal headwear. One could argue that the headgear might be covering the snakes; however, in doing so the image is altered all the same. In such instances, the presentation of the image is just as important as its creation. Worshipers will behold the image as it is presented, not as it was cast, and it is from this imagery that they will derive meaning. Even though one can categorize this statue as a transitionary figure of the deity, the staff led me to categorize this statue as a malevolent form of Hūniyam. He has the

Figure 3.9 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Boralla. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Iconography of Hūniyam  53 fiery pot in his left hand and his staff in his right hand. He sports royal attire. Because of the elongated ears and meditating looking eyes, traits frequently associated with the Buddha and Buddhist deities, one can categorize this statue tentatively as a benevolent, or perhaps a transitionary, form of the deity. Furthermore, the two tridents displayed next to the Hūniyam image provide a further connection with Śiva. A clay and plaster image of Hūniyam at Borella (Figure 3.10) reveals a large degree of similarity between Śiva and Hūniyam. Hūniyam is wearing a leopard skin such as is used as a garment by Śiva and also functions as cover for a seat for ascetics. Malevolent forms of Hūniyam frequently have upper arms decorated with snakes. However, we must remember that snakes have a protective function in South Asian traditions and, as such, might be present in more benevolent imagery as a representation of Hūniyam’s protective duty as a guardian god. The Hūniyam mural image at Borella in Figure 3.11 is quite unique from the others I have seen during my fieldwork visits. The skin color is white and the number of snakes is greater than that found in other images and appears to be mostly ornamental. The headwear, sword, and garments lend a hint of royalty to the image. Once again, the elongated ears and meditative eyes make the image a transitional character, more benevolent than malevolent. In these transitionary images of Hūniyam, many of the demonic aspects disappear. Although he continues to bite on the viper, he is no longer depicted with fangs. The eyes are completely human-like. Indeed, the eyes are calm or meditative. The clothing too reveals a possible move toward asceticism with

Figure 3.10 Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at Borella. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

54  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.11 Hūniyam mural (print) at Borella. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

the appearance of the leopard skin garment. While he is still armed, his postures do not indicate imminent violence. None of the images have him on horseback. The matted hair has also disappeared. However, as we will see in the following section, at this stage Hūniyam has still not fully evolved into his final form of benevolence.

Hūniyam as a benevolent deity Oh, the god who is holding a copper book in his right hand and a trident in his left hand; wearing a white jatāwa9 and a white cloth across his shoulder; with a white horse as his vehicle; following Brahma’s word in protecting villages; with handsome sideburns, handsome godly-looking king! Please accept these flowers, beetle leaves, incense, fruits, and pahana10 as thanksgivings for your great service that we are offering you from the top of our head and listen to our supplications and fulfill our needs; bring peace among your supplicants’ neighbors, protect them from theft and protect them!11

Iconography of Hūniyam  55 The above is a supplication to Hūniyam conducted by a kapurāḷa12 at a shrine. In the following images, Hūniyam has emerged as a fully benevolent character. Indeed, in many of these images he has adopted traits common to typical Buddha iconography: i.e., meditative eyes, overly elongated ears, and so forth. The unique statue of Hūniyam in (Figure 3.12) housed at the Belanvila Temple, lacks snake ornaments on his arms, forehead, shoulders, chest, waist, and feet. Instead it exhibits elongated ears and meditative eyes that are indicative of a more benevolent deity. In addition, the lotus displayed on his chest gives a more benevolent nature. In his left hand is the copper book of mantras associated with him in the legends, and in his right hand, he carries the staff. A bronze statue at Borella in Figure 3.13 appears to be a highly syncretic form of Hūniyam. The five snakes protecting him from the top brings to mind Viṣṇu’s snake Shesha. Again, the headwear, his garments, and the sword reveal some royal attributes. Hūniyam is holding a torch in his right hand and a downward facing sword in his left hand. The shape of the sword resembles the Kandyan king’s royal accessories. The lack of snake ornaments on his arms, forehead, chest, waist, and feet combined with his elongated ears and meditative eyes are indicative of a more benevolent deity.

Figure 3.12  Benevolent Hūniyam (bronze) at Belanvila. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

56  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.13 Hūniyam statue (bronze) at Borella. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

The primary clay-and-plaster Hūniyam statue in Figure 3.14 at the Baseline Road Temple is different from many other statues that I have seen during my research. Rather than brandishing a sword or his staff, he is instead holding a round tray laden with jasmine flowers. Again, we find him holding a torch rather than his more traditional fiery pot, and in this case, the torch is wrapped in strings of colored lights reminiscent of Christmas tree ornamentation. I was struck by the sense that the kapurāl ̣as were striving to bring a touch of modernity and glitz to the otherwise very traditional temple. Hūniyam is adorned with gold and many other precious metals and stones. A large number of tridents, snake figurines, and jasmine flowers were gathered around the statue. Hūniyam’s headwear appears to be royal in this particular image; however, this is one element of his image that seems to vary drastically from one image to another, ranging from a simple turban to a turban made of snakes to the ornate royal headwear. Indeed, his headwear seems to most closely conform to his transforming character. The turban of snakes is most prevalent in his malevolent images. A simple cloth turban is more common of his transitionary state and calls to mind

Iconography of Hūniyam  57

Figure 3.14  The main Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at the Baseline Temple. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

the ascetic. The regal headgear of the benevolent images then seems to mirror his new found status as a deity. Again, from the waist and up he is bare and covered with snakes, and devotees have adorned him with necklaces. This statue (Figure 3.15) at Kandy Nātha dēvāla Temple is the most serene Hūniyam image that I observed. The common five snakes are placed on his head and other snakes are in several places of his body. The facial features such as elongated ears and meditative eyes are indicative of a more benevolent deity. Indeed, this could easily pass for the image of a bōdhisattva or the Buddha. Overall, the statue is white in color with a touch of light blue, calling to mind an association with Viṣṇu and syncretic elements between Hinduism and Buddhism. The dangling yellow earrings are different from those in the majority of other images of Hūniyam. In his left hand he carries the fiery pot and in his right hand he has the staff. Hūniyam has shed nearly every vestige of a Yakṣa. Only his snake ornaments and his staff, both of which are somewhat ambiguous in nature, remain. In the following images, we will see that he continues to evolve, shedding even these few remaining elements. In fact,

58  Iconography of Hūniyam

Figure 3.15 Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster) at Kandy Nātha dēvālaya. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

if one were to observe these images outside of their given context, one would be hard pressed to recognize them as Hūniyam. The benevolent Hūniyam image (Figure 3.16) is wearing a white robe and a white turban and he presents a very calm demeanor. He is wearing a rosary around his neck. He carries a small water pot in his left hand and a small rolled copper book in his right hand. The water pot and rosary, and calm demeanor, make him appear to be a sannyasi. Several Hūniyam ritualists stated that according to the legend, the copper book he carries is the one he brought when he entered the island. It is representative of the propensity to display Hūniyam along with his mount, a white horse. Additionally, benevolent images portray Hūniyam with elongated ears and meditative eyes a trait frequently associated with the Buddha and Buddhist deities. The plaster and clay image from the Belanvila Temple, in Figure 3.17, is a benevolent form of Hūniyam. The statue is a bit damaged; especially the bottom part of the statue has been discolored and the plaster and clay are missing. Similar to the previous image, Hūniyam is holding the copper book in his left hand and the fiery pot in his right hand. A large halo is behind his head representing his divine nature. In addition, the rosary, elongated ears, and meditative eyes give the statue a strong benevolent character.

Iconography of Hūniyam  59

Figure 3.16 A common benevolent Hūniyam statue (clay and plaster). Baseline Road Temple, Colombo. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Figure 3.17 Hūniyam statue (plaster and clay) at Belanvila Temple. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

60  Iconography of Hūniyam A painting from Aembawa Hūniyam Temple (Figure 3.18) reveals a very syncretic image of the deity. Beneath the painting, the name of the deity, Käbälle Deviyo, is written, another name given to Hūniyam. Käbälläva is also the name of the village, and as mentioned earlier Käbälläva means the place where the deity was caught with ropes, per the folktale depicting that scenario. Other than the name, the clothing provides a stark contrast to the other images of the deity. The wearing of a full beard is not very common among Sinhala people but is far more frequent among the Tamil and Muslim people of the island. The turban, the cloth wrapped around his upper torso also projects a foreign appearance. Interestingly, the skin tone and hair color are also several shades lighter than one finds among the Sinhala or Tamil people. In fact, this image shares a great deal in common with the more syncretic images found at the Borella Temple and projects a syncretism that appears to aim at blending Hūniyam with Abrahamic imagery. Again, this would indicate the same form of syncretism in which Mr. Boteju of the Borella Temple claims ties the deity to Jesus and King Solomon. The beads around his neck

Figure 3.18  Benevolent Hūniyam (painting) at Käbälläva, Aembawa. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

Iconography of Hūniyam  61 seem to indicate that he is a holy man; the protruding collarbone, which seems to indicate emaciation or fasting of some sort, heightens this impression. The presence of the daṇḍa this time is indicative of benevolence and religiosity as one can clearly see that the intended use is as a walking staff; however, it retains the impression of authority that is inherent with a daṇḍa as well. The knife, however, is more problematic. It appears to be a churika, a wave-bladed knife used most frequently among Indian fishermen. The churika is also prevalent as a weapon typically held in the right hand of wrathful deities in South Asian iconography, and like the kshura, can symbolize the cutting of an enemy.13 Thus, one could conclude that the knife may be used to cut hūniyam, or break curses/spells to use the Western terminology. In this manner, it can still be seen as indicative of a benevolent function of the deity. Figure 3.19, at Aembawa Hūniyam Temple, shares some similar features with the previous image from the same temple. The statue portrays a thoroughly benevolent nature of the deity. In this statue, we can see Hūniyam

Figure 3.19 Benevolent Hūniyam at Käbälläva, Aembawa. Weerakkody Kapumahatya is standing next to the Hūniyam statue (clay). Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

62  Iconography of Hūniyam holding the copper book in his left hand and he is holding a trident in his right hand, giving a Śaivite symbology to the image. As with the previous image, the beard seems to indicate a non-Sinhala ethnicity. The elongated ears, meditative eyes, and complete absence of snakes in the image project a purely benevolent form of the deity. The headpiece and rosary give the image the look of a sannyasi. All this affirms the theory of the apotheosis of Ariṭt ̣a Kivenḍu Perumāl, who arrived at the Sītāwaka court described variously as a sannyasi or a renunciate.

Conclusion The iconography of Hūniyam includes malevolent, transitionary, and benevolent forms. The iconography of the malevolent images is characteristic of Yakṣas and reveals a more demonic nature with fangs, postures that are more aggressive, multiple arms, and weaponry more frequently associated with death and destruction. The benevolent images incorporate elongated ears, meditative eyes, less weaponry or with a more ritualistic usage, and royal attire. While snakes are not always a sign of a malevolent nature, the depiction of the snakes varies drastically from the malevolent to the benevolent images too, being much more aggressive in the malevolent images. In fact, many of the more benevolent features are found in images of the Buddha and associated deities of the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon. As I have mentioned throughout this study, this profound recasting of image is a clear indication of the transition of Hūniyam from a demon to deity. In those images most firmly in the benevolent category, we find those that seem to indicate a religious ascetic of non-Sinhala origin. Given our earlier postulation that the legends of Hūniyam arose in part from an apotheosis of the South Indian sannyasi/fakir, astrologer, advisor, general, and would-be monarch, Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, these images appear to be exactly what one would expect to find. They represent the demonized interloper reemerging as a benevolent entity progressing along the path well worn by Buddhist deities making headway toward attaining Buddhahood. Perhaps the only element missing is to find Hūniyam in the lotus position, and given the syncretism and evolution of imagery found at many of these temples, especially Borella, one would have to assume that such an image would appear in the not too distant future.

Notes 1 Jayasēna Koṭt ̣agoḍa, Măṇikpāla śāntiya hevat su ̄niyam kăpilla (Boralăsgamuva: Jē. Kē. Pablikēṣans, 1998), 23. 2 Gudrun Bühnemann, The Pantheon of the Mantramahodadhi (Groningen: Forsten, 2000), 51. 3 Paulus Edward Pieris and Richard Bryant Naish. Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505–1658 (New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999), 114–15. 4 Bühnemann, The Pantheon of the Mantramahodadhi, 46.

Iconography of Hūniyam  63 5 Gananath Obeyesekere, The Cult of the Goddess Pattini (Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1984), 91. 6 Bruce Kapferer, The Feast of the Sorcerer: Practices of Consciousness and Power (Chicago: University of Chicago Press, 1997), 313. 7 Heinrich Zimmer, Myths and Symbols in Indian Art and Civilization (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1946), 37, 63. 8 Rev. Siddhartha, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrī Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. 9 This is a wrapped cloth headwear similar to a Sikh turban. 10 This is a small clay lamp lit with a cotton wick and coconut oil. 11 Asōka Mālimagē, Śrī Suddha Su ̄niyam Gambar̄ a Deviyo ̄ (Colombo: Gunasena, 1999), 3. 12 This is a priest of a Hindu god at a Buddhist temple. 13 Roger Beer, The Handbook of Tibetan Buddhist Symbols (Boston, MA: Shambhala, 2003), 128.

Bibliography Beer, Roger. The Handbook of Tibetan Buddhist Symbols. Boston, MA: Shambhala, 2003. Bühnemann, Gudrun. The Pantheon of the Mantramahodadhi. Groningen: Forsten, 2000. Kapferer, Bruce. The Feast of the Sorcerer: Practices of Consciousness and Power. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1997. Koṭtạ goḍa, Jayasēna. Măṇikpāla śāntiya hevat su ̄niyam kăpilla. Boralăsgamuva: Jē. Kē. Pablikēṣans, 1998. Mālimagē, Asōka. Śrī Suddha Sūniyam Gambāra Deviyō. Colombo: Gunasena, 1999. Obeyesekere, Gananath. The Cult of the Goddess Pattini. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1984. Pieris, Paulus Edward, and Richard Bryant Naish. Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505– 1658. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999. Zimmer, Heinrich. Myths and Symbols in Indian Art and Civilization. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1946.

4 Historical context

Anurādhapura period According to the prehistoric traditions of Sri Lanka, King Panduvasdēva, the nephew and successor of the hero-king Vijaya, ruled the island for 30 years, maintaining Upatissa Grāma as the capital. Panduvasdēva had ten sons and one daughter, the famous Princess Unmāda Chithtra. After internal squabbling over the succession among these brothers and Pandukābhaya, the son of Princess Chithtra, the latter emerged victorious and named Anurādhapura as his capital in the fourth century BCE. The new king had been greatly aided in the conflict with his uncles by the yakkās, and in gratitude for their service, he put a number of them in positions of power within the newly established kingdom. He also …provided these as well as other yakkās in the city annually with demon offerings. On days of public festivity, seated on a throne of equal eminence with the yakkā Chief Citta—so great was the respect of the king for the yakkās—Pandukābhayo caused joyous spectacles, representing the actions of the devas as well as of mortals…1 The new king also paid respect to the yakkās by establishing shrines for them such as Kalāwela and Cittarāja. Anurādhapura flourished for centuries as the capital city of Sri Lanka under many successive kings.

Invasions Recurrent South Indian invasions brought new infusions of deva worship and greatly transformed the island’s orthodox Buddhism. Among these South Indian invasions, one must mention a few as having irrevocably altered Buddhism on the island. The first is that of the second century BCE wherein two Tamil horse traders, Sena and Guttika, who appear to have come from the Sindhu region,2 defeated the Sinhala king Sūratissa and then ruled Anurādhapura for 22 years from 237 BCE–215 BCE. The second invasion that brought dramatic change to the island was that of El ̣āra (101–77 BCE), who came from Cōl ̣a, in present day Tamil Nadu, to DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-4

Historical context  65 seize the Sinhala Kingdom by defeating Asela. Eḷāra ruled Sri Lanka for 44 years. Even the Sinhalese traditionally represent El ̣āra as being a just king. According to the Mahāvaṃ sa, he ruled with even justice toward friend and foe on occasions of disputes at law,3 and he even ordered the execution of his own son because of a heinous religious crime committed against the Buddhists.4 As such, Eḷāra is often held as the archetype of the Dharmarāja, or righteous king, of South Asian traditions, all the more remarkable for not being a Sinhala. There appears, however, to be a significant disconnect between this historical representation of El ̣āra and the modern Buddhist interpretation of his character. In fact, a Buddhist newspaper, the Lak Miṇi Pahana, depicts El ̣āra as a cruel and unjust ruler and heaps praise upon the time when the Sinhalese kings were ruling the land: Although the cruel king named Eḷāra came here eager to uproot the Sinhalese nation and conducted war, as the Sinhalese royal family remained safe in the southern region, the blessed prince Dutta Gāmini sallied forth and smashed the Tamils and erected the great structures that can still be seen in Anurādhapura, therefore making it possible to be that the Sinhalese were a prodigious nation.5 I believe this revisionist perspective has much to do with the heightened tensions between the various sectarian communities in modern Sri Lanka, which were exacerbated from the late nineteenth century onward due to the British policy of importing labor from India. In such an environment, the alien elements in Sri Lankan history have been greatly demonized while the indigenous has been valorized. Thus, El ̣āra’s image as a just king has been greatly diminished in popular depictions of Sri Lankan history.

Devas and demons A number of Hindu deities were introduced to Sri Lanka during these early years of strife between the island and the various kingdoms of South India. Let us look at a few of the more prominent of them: Pattinı̄, Kataragama, Kāli, and Nātha. At the same time, we will find other entities emerged from local traditions, namely Gale Baṇḍāra Deviyo and Tanivalle Deviyo.

Pattinı̄ Pattinı̄ was the major deity introduced to Sinhala society during the Anurādhapura period. Sinhala Buddhists believe that Pattinı̄ is a guardian deity of Buddhism. Although Pattinı ̄ is popular among Hindus, especially those living on the east coast of Sri Lanka, the cult of Pattinı ̄ died out in South India where it has been assimilated into the Kālı̄ cult. Pattinı ̄ is the patron goddess of fertility and health. Similar to many other deities, the origins of Pattinı̄ have many different renditions. Obeyesekere says Pattinı̄ was a deity worshiped by Indian

66  Historical context merchants and that these merchants, who settled in Sri Lanka, brought with them the worship of Pattinı̄.6 However, according to some Sri Lankans, they have worshiped Pattinı̄ since the illustrious days of King Rāvaṇa who, although considered a mere legend by most academicians, is revered as an historical and highly respected king by many Sri Lankans from all classes. According to the Rāvaṇa Katha, an old manuscript of the Poth Gula of Nilgalla Walauwa, King Rāvaṇa visited the Mahā Pattinı ̄ Dēvālaya of Matula Janapadaya, modern-day Mātalē, to receive her blessings. While he was standing in front of Pattinı ̄, he fainted and fell down near the feet of the gold statue of Pattinı̄. King Rāvaṇa’s forehead was hurt and started to bleed. It is said that where drops of blood fell from Rāvaṇa’s forehead red mushrooms bloomed on the ground of the Pattinı ̄ Dēvālaya, Mātalē.7 One of the purposes behind such folkloric episodes is undoubtedly to help anchor alien deities into the indigenous legends and religion. Thus, Rāvaṇa, who is perceived by Sri Lankans to have been an actual historical king and factors into a great many legends, helps cement Pattinı̄ into the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon. Another reference to Pattinı ̄ worship in Sri Lanka was made during King Gajabāhu’s period (circa 114–136 CE). According to the Rāja ̄valiya,8 Indian influence was quite strong during Gajabāhu’s reign and the Pattinı ̄ cult was officially introduced during this period.9 Today, Sinhala Buddhists, who seek her comfort especially with issues dealing with children and women, have embraced Pattinı̄. However, according to many scholars, including Obeyesekere, the worship of the goddess is on the decline in modern Sri Lanka.

Kataragama Similar to Vibhı̄ṣaṇa and Hūniyam, Kataragama’s position in the stratification of the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon has waxed and waned from time to time. He too is a deity for whom it is difficult to pinpoint the original period of introduction to the island. It has been said that King Duṭugämuṇu, before he went to war against El ̣āra, made a vow to build a shrine for Kataragama on that spot. This served as a significant catalyst then for the elevated status of the god. The Kataragama cult also holds a long history in Sri Lanka. The first mention of Kataragama is found in the Cūlavaṃ sa wherein the story of a princely supplicant is retold. While uttering incantations to the god, the prince made an error and so angered Kataragama that the peacock on which the god was riding pecked out the offending supplicant’s eye.10 Thus, Kataragama also has benevolent and malevolent facets to his persona, wherein the slightest provocation or unintended disrespect will incite his ire. Up to the fourteenth century CE, less attention was given to Kataragama and he was less popular as a member of the pantheon or as one of the guardian deities of Sri Lanka. (The Lankātilaka inscription of the mid-fourteenth century CE refers to images of this god and others to be

Historical context  67 installed in that temple.) Nikāya Saṃ graha, another fourteenth-century reference, discusses Skanda Kumāra, another name given to Kataragama, with Uppalavaṇṇa, Saman, and Vibhı ̄saṇa as the four guardians of Sri Lanka. During the fifteenth-century Kōt ̣ṭe period, Sandēs ́a literature also mentions a shrine dedicated to Kataragama. The Jinakālamāli, written in Siam11 in 1516, mentions Kataragama as one of the guardian gods of Sri Lanka.12 It is clear that from the fifteenth century onward, the popularity of Skanda has increased and he has been playing a strong role in the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon. Due to the immense South Indian influence on the Sinhala culture and as the threats from South Indian invasions increased, the seat of political power in Sri Lanka shifted from the Anurādhapura Kingdom to Poḷonnaruwa.

Polọ nnaruwa and Dambadeniya periods The Anurādhapura Kingdom was highly exposed to invasions from South India and after suffering numerous invasions and temporary usurpations by foreign adventurers, the Sinhala kings chose to relocate their capital to a more strategically defensible position: Pol ̣onnaruwa. Although the Poḷonnaruwa Kingdom was resilient and strong during the reigns of King Parākramabāhu I and his immediate successor, Nissaṇka Malla I, all other rulers of Pol ̣onnaruwa were rather weak and prone to infighting within the dynasty.13 Nissaṇka Malla came to Sri Lanka under the invitation of Vijayabāhu II, who succeeded Parākramabāhu, and Vijayabāhu appointed him as a subking.14 Mahinda VI, of the Kalinga dynasty, subsequently murdered Vijayabāhu. Mahinda VI reigned for only five days before Nissaṇka Malla killed him and assumed the throne for himself in 1187. Domestically, Nissaṇka Malla pursued an aggressive policy of building infrastructure and refurbishing government and religious buildings. He generally maintained genial relationships with neighboring countries but engaged in a vigorous expansion of military power, invading the states of the Pandyans and Cholas in South India. These conquered territories would also serve as conduits for the introduction of new religious thought in the Sinhala Kingdom. In this period, the royal court brought queens from the South Indian kingdoms and these matrimonial relations superseded the local royal lineage and gave rise to rival claimants to the throne. Since Buddhism was introduced to Sri Lanka during the third century BCE, the Sinhala people believed that the ruler must be a Buddhist.15 Embracing this notion, Nissaṇka Malla proclaimed that only a Buddhist had the right to rule in Sri Lanka, thereby securing his position and justifying his claim for kingship. Therefore, even though the South Indian influences were strong, this demonstrates the strength of Buddhism on the island. Furthermore, this would have a long-term impact on the legitimacy of the rulers of the Sri Lankan kingdoms. Hindus would be forced to pretend, at least publicly, to be Buddhist, and later still, the general public would deem Christian converts to be illegitimate claimants.

68  Historical context

Kalinga invasion and Kālı̄ The culmination of this situation was the next major South Indian invasion. Kalinga Māgha led this invasion from the east coast of India in 1214 and ruled over the Poḷonnaruwa Kingdom from 1215 to 1236 CE. During this foreign occupation, the Sinhala civilization was faced with the very real possibility of being forcibly assimilated into the political, military, and socioeconomic structures of the more powerful Dravidian Kingdoms of India. Māgha’s forces consisted largely of South Indian mercenaries. While Māgha held sway over the ancient northern kingdom, Vijayabāhu III established a separate Sinhala Kingdom in Dambadeniya, from which he launched attacks against Māgha and eventually defeated him. Rather than return to India following their defeat, many of Māgha’s mercenaries seem to have found positions with the Sinhala king, and thus, while intermarrying with the indigenous population brought with them some of their deities. This invasion and the perceived depravities associated with it are depicted in the Mahāvaṃ sa: They [Māgha’s army] tore from the people their garments, their ornaments and like, corrupted the good morals of the family which had been observed for ages… destroyed many houses and tied up oxen and other cattle which they made their own property…They wrecked image houses, destroyed many cētiyas, ravaged the vihāras, and maltreated the lay brethren. They flogged the children, tormented the five groups of the comrades of the Buddhist order, made the people carry burdens and forced them to do heavy labor. Many books known and famous, they tore from their cord and strewed them hither and thither. The beautiful and vast cētiyas like to Ruwanweli Cētiya and other which embodied as it were the glory of former pious kings, they destroyed by overthrowing them and allowing, alas, many of the body relics, their life as it were, to disappear. Thus the damila warriors, in imitation of Māra, destroyed, in the evil of their nature, the laity and the Buddhist Order.16 It is believed that one of the deities introduced by these men was Kālı̄. Kālı̄ is one of the many deities of Hindu origin that many Sri Lankans continue to worship. Due to the fierce nature of this deity, Kālı̄ may not share Buddhist temples with other deities but often has her own shrine apart from Buddhist temples. During this time, a monk named Dharmasēna translated the fifth-century Pāli work Dhammapadaṭṭhakata into Sinhala. His work was called the Saddharma Ratna ̄valiya, and, in the closing lines of the work, Dharmasēna gives the name of the benevolent village protector deity as Kālı̄ Barāṇḍhi, indicating that the great Hindu goddess had somehow become amalgamated with a local deity, perhaps from a village in which these South Indian mercenaries had settled.17 This assertion seems to be supported by another mentioning of Kālı̄ in the Dambadeni Asna (Dambadeni Message), a text written during the

Historical context  69 Dambadeniya period, which lists the various officers and service corps of the Sinhala kings. One group listed here is the Kālı ̄ naṭannō, “those who dance Kālı̄.”18 This appears to refer to ritual specialists who were possessed by Kālı̄, either to bring or predict victory. It would have been appropriate to propitiate this fierce deity for help in battle. It is also possible that the forces of Māgha introduced this corps of “Kālı̄ dancers.”19 If this speculation is correct, then the fierce Kālı̄ was a presence in Dambadeniya period.

Muslim king becomes a syncretic demon According to a short poem, Gale Baṇḍa ̄ra Deviyange Vittiya, and assorted folktales, King Bhuvanaikabāhu II (reigned 1310–1326) once left his palace at Athugalpura, at the time the capital of the Dambadeniya Kingdom, for a tour of a nearby village named Asvadduma. While there, he spied a beautiful young Muslim woman in the throng of onlookers who gathered to welcome their monarch. The anonymous poet describes this young lady, “Her soft long hair was the blue of a peacock’s feathers. Her stature was of proper proportions. Her attractive glances suggested a glimpse of her inner feelings.”20 Now the king had long been distressed because he had not been blessed with a son to succeed him. Furthermore, the royal astrologer had told the king that he would be blessed with a son only through a spouse of a different faith. This, coupled with his seemingly overwhelming attraction for the young woman, induced the king to action. Thus, upon his return to his palace, he sent an invitation to her to come to the court. Incapable of denying the king’s command, the young lady, whose name was Ummā, hurried to the palace in the company of her mother. Once there, the king told her of his intention to make her a consort. However, given the hostility that his Buddhist subjects would feel toward his marriage to a Muslim, the king made it clear that their union would have to be exceedingly discreet. In the space of a short while, Ummā gave birth to a son, Vathimi Baṇḍāra. To provide for his safety, she sent her son to live with her parents in the village of Bēruwala, where he was called Ismael, educated, and raised in the Muslim faith.21 In the meantime, the king’s Sinhala Buddhist wife also gave birth to a son, Kalinga. This young prince was raised at the palace in the Buddhist tradition and groomed to be the king’s successor, as no one else in the palace knew about his Muslim son. When Vathimi Baṇḍāra was still in his teens, his father had to go to war with an unruly subject who was in rebellion. Before marching off to engage the enemy, the king summoned his eldest son out of hiding and turned the defense of the capital over to him. The king had in his anthahpura, harem, many wives and concubines. Before he marched off to war, he told them that a white flag would be raised if he was victorious or a black flag would be raised should he be defeated.

70  Historical context With the vast resources of the kingdom at his disposal, the king made short work of the rebellious chieftain. However, the messenger charged with relaying the message of victory to the palace was so overjoyed regarding the swift and sure victory that he arrived at his station in a state of complete inebriation, and instead of flying the white flag as he had been instructed, the drunkard flew the black one. Immediately upon seeing what they believed to be a message of doom, the queens cast themselves from the height of Atugala Hill to their deaths. Realizing the magnitude of his mistake, the wayward messenger followed their example and leaped to his own demise. When the king arrived upon the scene and learned of this horrible incident, he too plunged from the heights of the hill to his untimely demise. Being the eldest son, Vathimi Baṇḍāra laid claim to the empty throne. Having already been left in command of the capital, it was easy for him to assert his prerogative. However, the native nobles were adamantly opposed to his ascension. Longstanding tradition and law stated that only a Buddhist could be king, and the new king had removed Buddhist ministers and replaced them with Muslims from his home village. This only served to antagonize the nobility and the general population alike; many of whom flocked to the banner of his half-brother, Kālinga, whom they viewed as the rightful heir to the throne. Soon after Vathimi Baṇḍāra’s ascension, a miraculous golden pot began to float in the royal lake in Athugalpura, and all attempts made by the king to recover it proved futile. Thus, he offered a substantial prize to anyone who could obtain it for him. However, there was an equally substantial penalty for failure. Should one attempt the recovery and fail, one was beheaded. Even so, there were a number of adventurers, some from as far away as Mātara and Ruhuṇa, who were willing to give it a try, and, naturally, a corresponding number of headless corpses. The king’s subjects grew dismayed at the seemingly senseless carnage, especially as the king’s greed and malevolence ran diametrically opposed to Buddhist notions of proper conduct. Thus, a grand cabal schemed for his demise. The architect of the cabal, a monk named Indajoti, proposed to the king that a pirith ceremony might well be the key to enabling him to acquire the treasure. Blinded by his greed, the king accepted the proposal and ordered that a mandapa be constructed upon the summit of Atugala. The cabal insured that those sympathetic to their cause were intimately involved in the building of the platform. On the given date, the king arrived for the ceremony and took his seat of honor. While scores of Buddhist monks chanted the pirith, Indajoti and his co-conspirators heaved upon a hidden rope attached to the king’s chair, which triggered it to collapse. This caused Vathimi Baṇḍāra to fall backward and roll down the abyss of Atugala to his death. The legend goes on to say that the king was reborn as a powerful and malevolent deity, whom the people called Gale Baṇḍāra Deviyo. Supposedly, he killed all those who plotted his death, and he visited one of his Muslim

Historical context  71 relatives in a dream and told him to bury his remains at a specific locale. This was promptly done in accordance with Muslim tradition and a tomb was erected over the grave. To placate this malevolent deity, the Buddhists also erected a temple at the spot where his body was found. Both these shrines are within the city limits of Kurunegala, and the Buddhists and Muslims individually maintain the two shrines, which are frequented by adherents of both faiths from all over the country, who come seeking blessings and assistance for the relief of their misery and sufferings.22 After his earthly demise, his half-brother, Kalinga, who was crowned as Bhuvanaikabāhu III, succeeded Vathimi Baṇḍāra.

Tambralinga invasion and Nātha During the late thirteenth century, the Southeast Asian kingdom of Tambralinga influenced Sri Lanka, in modern-day Thailand. Attempting to acquire the Dantha Da ̄thu, the Buddha’s tooth relic, the King of Tambralinga, Candrabhānu, invaded Sri Lanka on two separate occasions in 1247 and 1270.23 During these invasions, remnants of the indigenous Avalokiteśvara Mahāyāna tradition in the Kandyan hill country were amalgamated with the newly introduced cult of Lokeśvara Nātha, brought by Candrabhānu’s armies, to create the enduring expressions of Gampola material culture. According to Holt, Nātha is mentioned in the Sangam rock inscription that referred to him as a god credited for victory of war. The royal family of Kōt ̣ṭe continued to hold Nātha in the highest regard.24 The earliest mention of Nātha in his Sri Lankan manifestation is in the fifteenth-century Sinhala poem, Tisara Sande ̄s ́a, wherein is described the image of Nātha in a Buddhist shrine at Dorawaka in the Kegalla district. He is depicted as having two arms like the trunks of white elephants, displaying the magnificence of a pair of streams flowing down the sides of a white mountain. Nātha’s popularity continued due to the sustenance of royal political patronage and reached its climax during the later reign of the Kandyan kings of the late sixteenth century. In modern-day Sri Lanka, Nātha is equated with the Maitreya Buddha, the future Buddha. While the Sinhala Dambadeniya Kingdom, with the aid of Pandyan allies from South India, successfully repulsed of the second Tambralinga invasion, Dambadeniya proved to be too weak to force their Pandyan allies to return to India. Thus, a Pandyan king was installed in Jaffna, and the Sinhala capital was temporarily shifted to Yāpahuwa, before returning to Poḷonnaruwa about half a century later. During the two centuries following the invasion, the Sinhala gradually abandoned the northern plains, hitherto the main center of their civilization and settled in the southwestern and central regions. The Tamils, who had been coming to the island as peaceful settlers, and in times of war as soldiers and invaders, established themselves in the north. Other South Indians settled in the south and southwest and were integrated into Sinhala society.25 Thus, the main Tamil settlements, which were

72  Historical context concentrated in the northernmost region of the island, close to South India, retained their ethnocultural identity. While there were periods of peace characterized by cultural and religious assimilation, inevitably, during periods of conflicts and stress, there was an increase of historical antagonism between the two communities.

Fragmentation of power Poḷonnaruwa (c. 1055–1236) was the last truly powerful and unified Sinhala Kingdom. With the fall of Poḷonnaruwa Sinhala power shifted to the southwest. None of the subsequent kingdoms from Dambadeniya through Gampola, Raigama, Kōt ̣ṭe, and Sı̄tāwaka to Kandy were as powerful as Anurādhapura or Pol ̣onnaruwa. The Kōt ̣ṭe period was the only time when a southern kingdom could again exert some influence on the north. It was during that time that Sapumal Kumāraya26 was able to defeat the Jaffna Kingdom and bring it under the Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom, but this proved to be of extremely short duration. During the early fifteenth century, Parākramabāhu VI, the founder of the Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom, was able to establish ostensible control over the entire island from his capital in western Sri Lanka. During this time, the island was united under one king for the first time in centuries. However, by 1467, the Jaffna Kingdom, which had been created by the Pandyans during the Kalinga Māgha invasion of the early thirteenth century, proclaimed its independence, having been under the control of the Kōt ̣ṭe throne a mere 17 years. Then, in 1505, the first Portuguese arrived in Sri Lanka. Within little more than a decade, a sizable fleet of Portuguese ships landed at Colombo and began construction of a fort known as Santa Barbara. To complicate the matter further, the eastern client kingdom of Kandy was by this time operating with a considerable degree of independence from the Kōt ̣ṭe crown as well. In 1521, King Vijayabāhu VI of Kōt ̣ṭe died in a palace coup. His three eldest sons murdered him, in what came to be known as the Vijayabā Kollaya. They feared they would be overlooked for succession to the throne in favor of their father’s fourth son, Dēvarāja. The eldest succeeded their murdered father to the Kōt ̣ṭe throne as Buvanekabahu VII, while the other two created separate kingdoms for themselves from the carcass of the once mighty Kōt ̣ṭe for themselves—Māyādunnē ruled from Sı̄tāwaka and Parārājasiṃ ha established the kingdom of Raigama. With this fragmentation of power, the subking of Kandy gained further autonomy, as Kandy was effectively outside of the control of any of these three successor states. The landlocked kingdom of Sı̄tāwaka was in the hill country and initially included a relatively small area, including Kosgama, Ruwanwella, Yatiyanthota, Hanwella, Pādukka, Ehaliyagoda, Kuruwita, and Rathnapura. The capital city, modern-day Avissawella, was situated on a steep hill at the base of bluffs rising around 1,000 feet above the surrounding jungle. Meanwhile, Parārājasiṃ ha lived for only a brief time as ruler in Raigama, after which Māyādunnē brought those lands under Sı̄tāwakan control.

Historical context  73 South Indian influence, political, economic, and cultural continued unabated during the whole period starting from the thirteenth century to the end of the Kandyan Period in 1815. South Indian deva worship expanded during the thirteenth to fifteenth centuries as South India was undergoing political turmoil during this period. The Marawar invasion forced many South Indians, especially the Malayala people, to migrate to Sri Lanka, particularly to the northwest and interior. With them came their gods.

Conservative resistance Although the South Indian influence in all this was conspicuous in many expressions, such as architecture, art, and religious worship, these forms also acquired a local flavor, and an attempt was made to assimilate them to the Sinhala Buddhist value system. At the same time, the more conservative elements in Sinhala society, especially the Buddhist monks, were staunch in their condemnation of the Hindu practices of worship while upholding traditional Sinhala culture and religion, particularly during the Kōt ̣ṭe period. Vı ̄dāgama Maitriya, a Buddhist monk, was perhaps the most articulate defender of the Buddhist values. His Buduguna Alanka ̄raya, a classical poem, was his masterpiece. In his Haṃ sa Sandēs ́aya, while the influence of Hindu deities is prevalent, he made all the Hindu gods subordinate servants of the Buddha. This represented the emergence of a strong reaction to Hindu deva worship among the traditional literati, during the Kōt ̣ṭe period. This was not an entirely new phenomenon. For example, during the Poḷonnaruwa period, Vidyachakrawatti composed his Butsarana which was a classic eulogy espousing the Buddha’s virtues. This could be considered an open reaction to the fast spreading Hindu worship during that time. The Damsarana and Saṅghasarana that followed were also written to inspire the Buddhist devotees to cling to the virtues of the three ratnas: the Buddha, dhamma, and saṅgha.27

Apotheosis of a Kōtṭ ẹ prince Parākramabāhu VIII ruled from Kōt ̣ṭe from 1484 to 1509 and was blessed with six sons by his two mahēṣhis. Among this plethora of offspring was Taniya Vallabāhu, a fearless warrior of good repute. This prince was given authority over a sizable swath of the maritime territory of the Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom, ruling the area from Udugampola. It was in this capacity that the prince engaged in his most renowned exploit, as describe in the Rājāvaliya: [a]ttended by a large army, Sakalakalā Walla went to Mādampē, and having consulted with his younger brother Taniya Walla, mounted his horse, while his brother mounted an elephant. They charged into the midst of the Moorish host [Muslim mercenaries] on opposite sides, killed many Moors, stabbed to death Kadirāyana Mudaliyār, seized the Moors who had come to fish for pearls, and had the dhonies broken up by

74  Historical context elephants, captured 89 persons, came to the city of Jayavardhana [Kōt ̣ṭe], and presented themselves before the king, Parākrama Bāhu [VIII]. Having received many presents, the two princes went each to his own city.28 Apart from this particular encounter, there are no records concerning Taniya Vallabāhu’s martial exploits. However, given that he soon ran afoul of his father, it is highly likely that he either engaged in more combat or spent a great deal of time on the run. It was the law of the time that only the paramount ruler, the King of Kōt ̣ṭe, could issue entitlements, or sannasas. However, Taniya Vallabāhu, although only a regional ruler, issued six such edicts, granting lands and gifts upon his most trusted comrades-in-arms. Needless to say, his father, King Parākramabāhu VIII, was not amused when he learned of this. According to the Kurunegala Vistaraya, the King dispatched authorities to abduct Taniya Vallabāhu’s yakadadoliyas, his native Sinhala wives. Concealing themselves in rolled mats, these brave women ordered their servants to carry them away to a safer place to escape the King’s authorities. Upon learning that his wives had escaped unscathed and were in safekeeping in one of the villages loyal to him, Taniya Vallabāhu bestowed favors upon that community. However, it was perhaps a more tragic episode that occurred later in his life that secured the apotheosis of Taniya Vallabāhu. The prince had a beautiful daughter named Samudradevi. She married a Malabar prince from the Jaffna Kingdom of the northern part of the island of Lanka, and the couple had two sons, Vı ̄diya Rāja and Tammit ̣a Sūriya Baṇḍāra. For reasons seemingly unrecorded in historical or legendary accounts, Vı̄diya Rāja led an army against his grandfather. Fearing for his life, Taniya Vallabāhu fled with his two sons and his panikkiyā, elephant driver. Vı̄diya Rāja managed to capture his two uncles near a place later known as Kumāra-Kat ̣ṭuwa. The panikkiyā was also captured and put to death. In a short time, Vı ̄diya Rāja also caught up with his grandfather and killed him as well. The fallen king was deified as Tanivalle Deviyo. He is remembered as a heroic figure who helped stave off invasions from South India. According to local legends, the prince was a virtuous and extremely compassionate ruler. Tales are replete with incidents that narrate how, with a white turban on his head and mounted on his majestic white horse, he often galloped at lightning speed through highways, by-ways, paddy fields, and estates to fight off the supposed forces of evil. They also tell of how the prince rendered great service to the agricultural activities of the region. He sponsored initiatives that provided irrigation facilities, renovated old tanks, and built new ones. It is said that he so loved the Mahawewa tank that he built his palace nearby it. During his reign, the Mādampē region became prosperous and self-sufficient. A small shrine dedicated to Tanivalle Deviyo is located at Mādampē along the side of the Negombo–Chilaw highway. It is not known exactly who constructed the current shrine; however, it is believed that this brick construction

Historical context  75 dates to around 1845–1850. It is known that among the members of the first Board of Trustees of this shrine were respected personalities of Mādampē, namely, Muhandiram Wikrama John Mendis Wijegunaratne Senanayake and Wickrama Salaman Mendis Wijegunaratne. Two sons of the former, Gate Mudliyar Lawrence Mendis Wijegunaratne Senanayake and Wickrama Darnis Mendis Wijegunaratne Senanayake subsequently served as trustees. Today, this family continues its patronage of the dēvālaya and serves as trustees. There are a couple of works of Sinhala verse literature associated with the shrine. The Mādampē Vistaraya, comprising 135 verses, is believed to have been written during the reign of King Rājasiṃ ha I of Sı̄tāwaka (1581–1593). This contains a detailed account of Prince Taniya Vallabāhu and his subsequent deification. The other work, Mādampē Patuna, appears to be based largely upon the earlier work.

Conclusion While the notion of a golden age in which a single monarch ruled the entire island of Lanka is almost certainly an unfounded legend, we can observe what appears to be a gradual but steady decline in any semblance of hegemony throughout the course of the Sinhala kingdoms of Lanka. From its legendary foundation by the extraordinary adventurer, Prince Vijaya (ruled c. 543–505 BCE), through the subsequent Kingdoms of Vijitapura, Anurādhapura, Poḷonnaruwa, Dambadeniya, Gampola, Raigama, and Kōt ̣ṭe, internal strife and foreign invasions had steadily served to erode the power of the Sinhala monarchs. Perhaps the culmination of these seemingly endless challenges to a singular throne was the Vijayabā Kollaya, the patricide that shattered the old Kingdom of Kōt ̣ṭe into three smaller and weaker kingdoms. This self-serving act on the part of Vijayabāhu VI’s sons undoubtedly opened the door to European intervention and, eventually, the colonization of the island. Interestingly, while this would also allow for the influx of new waves of religious influences, it would also create a resurgence in Buddhism in terms of religious conviction and socio-ethnic identity. Still, the tradition of religious syncretism continued unabated. Added to the mix now were not only pre- and proto-Aryan traditions, Buddhism, and Hinduism but also Islam and Christianity. This is demonstrated in the tales of Gale Baṇḍāra Deviyo and Tanivalle Deviyo, and in the introduction of such mainstream Hindu deities as Kālı̄, Skanda, and other Śaivite standards. Thus, the cosmology of Sinhala Buddhism came to be inhabited by a vast array of deities, demons, and demigods from a host of divergent religious traditions. These new entities were added in the context of political disturbance and invasion, apotheosed for their feats of heroism, acts of social justice, as well as for tyranny and murder. Nor was that syncretic tradition to dissipate with the coming of the Europeans, as we will see in the subsequent chapter.

76  Historical context

Notes 1 Donald Obeyesekere, Outlines of Ceylon History (Colombo: The Times of Ceylon, 1911). 2 Mahānāma, Mahāvaṃ sa, 215. 3 Mahāvaṃ sa, II.XXI. 4 Mahāvaṃ sa, II.XXI.16–19. 5 Lak Miṇi Pahana, February 22, 1896. 6 Obeyesekere, Pattinı ̄, 535. 7 Professor Anuradha Seneviratne, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, Hanthana, Kandy, Sri Lanka, May 08, 2004. 8 This is a seventeenth-century historical chronicle, covering the history of the island from its legendary beginnings up to the accession of King Vimaladharmasūrya II in 1687 and dealing primarily with political and cultural history rather than religious hagiography. 9 Guṇasēkara, 47–48. 10 Geiger, Rickmers, and Mahānāma, 193. 11 The reference to Kattagāma is especially relevant given Siam’s major role in re-establishing the upasampadā, higher ordination, in Sri Lanka and the close relationship between the two countries. 12 Obeyesekere, Pattini, 176. 13 Codrington, 55–75. 14 Wijesooriya, 126. 15 Rāhula, 62–64. 16 Mahāvaṃ sa, II.LXXX.58–73. 17 Thera Dharmasēna and Buddhaghosa, 137. 18 Ibid., 137–138. 19 The tradition of men and women dancing on the battlefield was well known in the Cankam literature. So was the custom of an offering to Kot ̣ṭavai (Kālı̄) of rice balls soaked in blood. 20 Parker, 177–296. 21 Mahroof and Ismail, 14. 22 Nubin, 160. 23 Holt, Buddha in the Crown, 108. 24 Holt, Buddha in the Crown, 101. 25 Roberts, 21–34. 26 He was also known as Chempaha Perumal, and ascended the Kōtṭ ẹ throne under the name of Buvanekabāhu VI. 27 Dharmadasa, Language, 10. 28 Guṇasēkara, 71–72.

Bibliography Codrington, Humphrey William. Short History of Ceylon. London: Macmillan, 1926. Dharmadasa, K.N.O., and H.M.S. Tundeniya. Simhala Dev̄ a Pura ̄naya. Colombo: Rajayē Mudraṇa Nı̄tigata Saṃ sthāva, 1994. Dharmasēna, Thera, and Buddhaghosa. Jewels of the Doctrine: Stories of the Saddharma Ratnāvaliya. Translated by Raajini Obeyesekere. Albany: State University of New York Press, 1991. Guṇasēkara, Bandusēna. The Rajavaliya, Or, A Historical Narrative of Sinhalese Kings from Vijaya to Vimala Dharma Surya II: To Which Are Added a Glossary and a List of Sovereigns. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1995.

Historical context  77 Holt, John Clifford. Buddha in the Crown: Avalokites ́vara in the Buddhist Traditions of Sri Lanka. New York: Oxford University Press, 1991. Mahānāma. Mahāvaṃ sa: The Great Chronicle of Sri Lanka: Chapters One to ThirtySeven. Translated by Ananda W.P. Guruge. Colombo: S. Godage & Bros., 2005. Mahroof, M.M.M., and Marina Ismail. Muslims of the Kalutara District: History and Cultural Heritage: A Brief Survey. Colombo: Office of the Minister of State for Muslim Religions and Cultural Affairs, 1992. Munidasa Cumaratunga, Lak Miṇi Pahana, February 22, 1896. Nubin, Walter. Sri Lanka: Current Issues and Historical Background. New York: Nova Science Publishers, 2002. Obeyesekere, Donald. Outlines of Ceylon History. Colombo: The Times of Ceylon, 1911. Obeyesekere, Gananath. The Cult of the Goddess Pattini. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1984. Parker, Henry. Ancient Ceylon. Reprint. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1992. Rāhula, Walpola. History of Buddhism in Ceylon; the Anuradhapura Period, 3rd Century BC—10th Century AD. Colombo: Gunasena, 1966. Roberts, Michael. Caste Conflict and Elite Formation: The Rise of Karāva Elite in Sri Lanka, 1500–1931. New York: Cambridge University Press, 1982. Wijesooriya, S. A Concise Sinhala Mahāvaṃ sa. Colombo: Participatory Development Forum, Sri Lanka, 2006.

5 European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms

Kōtṭ ̣e and the Portuguese versus Sı̄tāwaka The sixteenth century was a very chaotic period in Sri Lankan history. In short order, the Portuguese had captured most of the important ports and large tracts of the coastline. The regional kings’ greed for power and internal dissention made the Sri Lankan kingdoms weak. Māyādunnē, the King of Sı̄tāwaka, was a very ambitious and shrewd man. While he attempted to capture Kōt ̣ṭe, he also waged war against the Portuguese with the help of Muslims who were a powerful sea power at that time and who had been expelled from their trading businesses in Kōt ̣ṭe by Māyādunnē’s brother, Bhuvanaikabāhu VII, the King of Kōt ̣ṭe. Years of internecine conflict between the two brothers ensued, with the Kōt ̣t ̣e monarch relying heavily on Portuguese allies for assistance and Māyādunnē relying on the aid of the Muslim ruler of Calcutta. Māyādunnē was successful in the initial stages of many of these confrontations but was always repelled once the Portuguese arrived from their base in Goa. Portuguese intrigues ultimately led to the 1551 assassination of Bhuvanaikabāhu by a Portuguese soldier, likely on the orders of the Portuguese Viceroy in Goa. However, the subsequent Portuguese plundering of the Kōt ̣ṭe treasury lost the Portuguese many allies among the Sinhala elite. Furthermore, their pillaging of the esteemed Buddhist temple at Kōt ̣ṭe led to mass defections to Māyādunnē’s side. This was only further exacerbated by the imminent conversion to Christianity of Dharmapāla, Bhuvanaikabāhu’s grandson and chosen successor. By 1555, Māyādunnē had conquered the entire Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom with the exception of the city of Kōt ̣t ̣e itself and the Portuguese garrison at Colombo, and Sı̄tāwaka had emerged as the dominant Sinhala Kingdom. In 1557, Dharmapāla, now the King of Kōt ̣ṭe, became a Christian, to ingratiate himself to his Portuguese overlords. He subsequently seized all land held by the Buddhist temples and turned those lands over to the Portuguese missionaries. He also handed the Daḷadāgē of Kōt ̣ṭe (Temple of the Tooth) and the temple in Kälaṇiya over to the Christian monastic orders. This represented the end of an independent Kōt ̣ṭe monarch, as Dharmapāla’s support was now reduced to the Portuguese and Christian converts. It also DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-5

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  79 opened the door for Māyādunnē to renew his efforts to conquer the rest of Kōt ̣ṭe and to drive the Portuguese from the island. He now emerged in the eyes of many as the protector of Sinhala culture in the face of a foreign adversary and their puppet monarch. The war proved to be protracted and exhausting of men and resources. However, by 1562, Sı̄tāwaka had gained the upper hand. In July of that year, the commander of the Portuguese garrison at Colombo ventured out to protect the few villages that remained loyal to the Kōt ̣ṭe crown from what he believed was a small Sı̄tāwaka force, only to be surrounded by the main Sı̄tāwaka army under the command of Māyādunnē’s youngest son and heir apparent, Rājasiṃ ha. The resulting engagement was a complete rout of the Portuguese forces. Indeed, had it not been for the intervention of the Kandyan sub-king on the side of the Portuguese, the Sı̄tāwaka forces might well have captured Kōt ̣ṭe and Colombo. In 1565, the Sı ̄tāwaka forces did succeed in capturing the city of Kōt ̣ṭe, as the Portuguese recognized the inevitable and abandoned the city. Māyādunnē, who by this time had turned much of the reins of government over to his son, Rājasiṃ ha, may well have moved his capital there had it not been for fear of Portuguese reprisals. Those fears were well founded, as the Portuguese, now free from defending Kōt ̣ṭe, began instead to terrorize the villages of Sı ̄tāwaka, attack trade ships from Sı̄tāwaka, and destroy Buddhist and Hindu holy sites. The Sı̄tāwaka forces were handicapped in dealing with these depredations by renewed conflict with the sub-king in Kandy, who had converted to Christianity and was engaged in what appears to have been a coordinated effort with the Portuguese to undermine the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom. By 1581, Rājasiṃ ha I assumed the Sı ̄tāwaka throne following his father’s death and continued to wage war against Karalliyaddē Baṇḍāra, the subking in Kandy. After a successful campaign, he annexed the Kandyan territory to the Sı̄tāwaka crown. Karalliyaddē fled toward Trincomalee but died before being able to rally any support. His nephew and chosen successor, Yamasiṃ ha, fled along with Karalliyaddē’s two daughters to Mannar, which was under Portuguese control at that time. There Yamasiṃ ha became a Christian, again for obvious political expedience. One of the princesses also converted and changed her name to Doña Catherina. In the meantime, a prince called Vı̄rasundara was enthroned in Kandy as sub-king by Rājasiṃ ha but was soon thereafter put to death by Rājasiṃ ha who suspected that he was organizing a revolt. Following a number of failed attempts by Rājasiṃ ha to capture Colombo, Vı ̄rasundara’s son Konappu Baṇḍāra (Christian name: Dom João of Austria) joined the Portuguese and Yamasiṃ ha (Christian name: Dom Felipe), Karalliyaddē’s erstwhile heir, in a campaign to recapture the Kandyan throne and distract Rājasiṃ ha from further attacks on the Portuguese fort. The campaign met with initial success, but it was unclear whether it would be able to withstand Rājasiṃ ha’s counterattack. Following the discovery of the Buddhist clergy’s collaboration with his internal enemies, Rājasiṃ ha turned against them. He destroyed Buddhist

80  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms temples, seized Samanalakanda and turned it over to Hindu priests, and Rājasiṃ ha himself converted to Śaivite Hinduism.1 This conversion also came following his unsuccessful attempts to take control of Colombo, a failure Rājasiṃ ha seems to have believed was related to the perceived weakness of the Buddhist deity, Uppalavaṇṇa, to whom Rājasiṃ ha had been a staunch adherent. In reprisals for Rājasiṃ ha’s attacks on Colombo, the Portuguese had destroyed the Uppalavaṇṇa Temple at Devinuvara in 1587.2 Whatever the cause of his conversion, this seemingly peculiar turn of events turned many of his subjects against the once popular ruler. Rājasiṃ ha turned to new advisors to replace those he felt he could no longer rely upon. As Alan Strathern states, “This accelerated already strong fragmentary tendencies by endowing officers lacking royal blood with greater control of manpower, and the ability to pursue personal objectives comparatively un-beholden to any one court tradition.”3 Perhaps the most influential of these new advisors was Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, also known as Manamperuma Mohoṭṭa ̄la, a Śaivite general whom Rājasiṃ ha would eventually make his commander-in-chief. In Kandy, Yamasiṃ ha/Dom Felipe was crowned king and, with the aid of the Portuguese, was able to defeat the Sı ̄tāwaka forces in 1591. However, the new king’s aggressive policy of forcing Christian conversion upon his subjects proved immensely unpopular and he died under mysterious circumstances. He was promptly replaced by Konappu Baṇḍāra/Dom João, who assumed the name Vimaladharmasūriya I, reverted to Buddhism, and promptly sent his Portuguese benefactors and their missionaries back to Colombo. Vimaladharmasūriya I is acknowledged as the first independent king of Kandy. Not surprisingly, Rājasiṃ ha considered Vimaladharmasūriya to be a usurper, and no sooner had the latter dismissed his Portuguese allies than Rājasiṃ ha sallied forth to bring Kandy back under his control. However, it was not to be. The Kandyans mounted a successful defense. Soon after retiring from the field of combat, Rājasiṃ ha died from a small wound that would not heal, leading to a succession crisis for the Sı̄tāwaka throne. Through political intrigue, both of Rājasiṃ ha’s sons were murdered. Thwarted in his own efforts to secure the throne for himself, Manamperuma Mohoṭṭāla switched over to the Portuguese side, and, in short order, the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom ceased to exist, having been divided among the Portuguese and the Kandyan Kingdom. Emboldened by the sudden collapse of their main rival on the island, the Portuguese attempted an invasion of Kandy with the hope of crowning their puppet, Doña Catherina, as queen. However, Vimaladharmasūriya I defeated them at the Balana Pass and consolidated his position as the King of Kandy, having captured Dona Catherina in the conflict. Later, she became his queen, under the name Kusumāsana Dēvi. After the death of Vimaladharmasūriya, Senarat, the king’s cousin and a former Buddhist monk, assumed the throne and Kusumāsana Dēvi became his queen as well. For a brief albeit eventful period, 1521–1594, the Kingdom of Sı̄tāwaka had stood as the hope of the indigenous Sinhala Buddhist people of

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  81 Sri  Lanka. The kings, Māyādunnē and Rājasiṃ ha, resisted the growing Portuguese influence at the same time the King of Kōt ̣ṭe and the sub-king of Kandy were willing to convert to Christianity or otherwise submit to the colonial power to secure their positions. Given the fact that Sı̄tāwaka was located in between these two rival powers, it is no small testament to the leadership of its kings that it was able to not only successfully hold off its adversaries on two fronts but also thrive, and to do so at the expense of said rivals. However, the heavy-handed governance required to accomplish this task laid the foundation for the demise of the Sı̄tāwaka throne, as all internal opposition was dealt with expediently and lethally. In the aftermath of Rājasiṃ ha’s death, the kingdom was left with no leader sufficiently strong enough to hold the rival factions of the kingdom together. All such individuals had been executed in the last few years of Rājasiṃ ha’s reign. This provided the Portuguese and their puppet Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom with the opportunity to reassert control over territories previously lost to the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom and to carve up part of its former rival for themselves, thus securing their position once more. At the same time, the collapse of Sı̄tāwaka gave birth to a newly independent and assertive Kandyan Kingdom. The mantle of cultural protector would fall on the shoulders of the Kandyan kings, a process that had perhaps already begun following Rājasiṃ ha’s conversion to Śaivism. However, with their past propensity for flirting with Christian conversion to curry favor with the Portuguese, their willingness to live up to this task was never a certainty.

Hindu influence in the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom The Berendi Kovil played a significant role in the history of the Sı ̄tāwaka Kingdom, as this was Rājasiṃ ha I’s place of worship. There are many tales regarding the origins of Berendi Kovil. While most attribute its construction to Rājasiṃ ha, others attribute an earlier origin to its existence. Some scholars attribute its style of stone columns, railings, and floral motifs, especially leaf carvings, to the Pol ̣onnaruwa period when similar Hindu shrines were built, which would date the temple to a significantly earlier period of Sri Lankan history.4 According to folk traditions and chronicle sources, Rājasiṃ ha brought architects from India to work upon the continuing construction of the edifice, a project that remained unfinished in his lifetime. Among those whom he fetched from India was a learned man, skilled in astrology and proficient in the conduct of combat, named Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl. Due to his exceptional service to the king, Rājasiṃ ha duly conferred the title of Manamperuma Mohoṭṭāla upon him, and he became the king’s close confidant and trusted official, eventually appointed as his second-in-command. In the Rājāvaliya, a seventeenth-century historical chronicle of Sri Lanka, covering the history of the island from its legendary beginnings up to the ascension of King Vimaladharmasūrya II in 1687, it is recorded that Manamperuma Mohot ̣ṭāla married the king’s daughter.5 Moreover, when the king’s guilty conscience

82  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms finally caught up with him for his alleged murder of his father, Rājasiṃ ha consulted Manamperuma Mohoṭṭāla as to what the proper atonement for such a sin might be under the Hindu faith. The latter responded that the king must build a kovil in a specific location by diverting the Sı ̄tāwaka Oya. It was for this reason that the king built the Berendi Kovil.6 According to the Mahāvaṃ sa, Rājasiṃ ha had first turned to Buddhist monks concerning his atonement. However, they told him in no uncertain terms that there was nothing he could do to atone for his sin.7 Thus, it is believed that this was the reason of the king’s conversion to Hinduism. The Berendi Kovil was dedicated to Śiva. The Sevul Sandēs ́aya, a poem by the sixteenth-century courtier Alagiyavanna Mohot ̣ṭāla, contains two verses that describe paintings in the kovil that depicted the war between Rāma and Rāvaṇa as portrayed in the Rāmāyaṇa. Interestingly, the poet refers to the Berendi Kovil as a Bahirawa Temple, denoting Bhairawa, the fierce manifestation of Śiva by his Sinhala name. The prose refers to the temple having been damaged in 1551 and later restored. In Sinhala tradition, Bahirawa is associated with the protection of treasures, and local tradition relates that carvings at the site that depict parrots and squirrels are said to symbolize hidden ancient treasures.8 There is evidence to suggest that modern-day treasure hunters have drilled holes next to the parrot, hoping to find treasure. Sadly, the Portuguese destroyed the still unfinished Berendi Kovil soon after the fall of the Sı̄tāwaka Kingdom. However, the ruins that remain stand as testament to the fact that the temple was a beautiful edifice and its proximity to the palace and Rājasiṃ ha’s tomb are indicative of its importance during the brief existence of the kingdom.

Portuguese Kōtṭ ẹ versus the Kandyan Kingdom While the demise of the Sı̄tāwaka monarchy led to the resurgence of the Kōt ̣ṭe Kingdom, the trappings of a Sinhala Kingdom were merely window dressing. Dharmapāla, the Christian convert, was king in name only and was paraded around by his Portuguese masters on rare occasions to help quell internal dissentions within the Kōt ̣ṭe territory. It was, however, quite clear to all who was in power. Kōt ̣ṭe was now a Portuguese colony. In fact, when Dharmapāla died in 1597 without a direct heir, the Portuguese presented documents he had signed which bestowed his kingdom to the Portuguese monarch, Phillip II. One could have argued that Dharmapāla had no right to make such an agreement, as existing laws of the time stated that only a Buddhist could be king, and, as a Christian convert, Dharmapāla had no legal right to be king. Furthermore, other laws stated that only those related by blood to Sinhala or Indian royal families could be king. Thus, Phillip II was doubly ineligible to be a king in Sri Lanka. However, such arguments are purely academic, as those with the overwhelming military might were able to make their own

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  83 interpretation of the laws, or simply to ignore them at will. And, ignore them they did. However, the Portuguese plan to gain greater territorial control of the island was met with a determined resistance on the part of the Sinhala. In fact, there were a number of rebellions within the Portuguese-controlled territories, including a 1616–1617 revolt led by a man called Nikapiṭiyē Baṇḍāra, a pretender to the Sı ̄tāwaka throne who used the name of a grandson of Rājasiṃ ha I whom the Portuguese had taken into custody in the immediate aftermath of the conquest of the former kingdom. Many of these rebels espoused their desire to drive out the foreign invaders, and in the course of their revolts, they burned down Catholic churches and otherwise vented their anger at all visible trappings of foreign rule. The rebel leaders found support from both the Jaffna and Kandy Kingdoms, which saw this as a means to keep the Portuguese at bay from their own lands.9 Due to the limited manpower from Portugal and Goa, the Portuguese hired local soldiers to defend Portuguese territory and to assist in offensive operations. The majority of these Lascarins were Sinhala or Tamils who had converted to Catholicism. After the Portuguese imposed direct control of Kōt ̣ṭe, some of these Lascarins were given titles and offices in the governing bodies. From 1594 to 1604, King Vimaladharmasūriya I successfully defeated repeated Portuguese campaigns aimed at capturing Kandy. However, his overtures of peace after each of these campaigns fell on deaf ears in Colombo and Goa. Thus, Vimaladharmasūriya cultivated relationships with the anti-Portuguese elements within Portuguese territories. The success of these covert operations led to the recurring defection of Lascarin troops during Portuguese operations against Kandy, defections that effectively hamstrung multiple campaigns and further led to widespread rebellions in the Portuguesecontrolled lands.10 Additional aid for the Kandyan cause came from the Nāyakkar states of South India, which sent troops through the Jaffna Kingdom of northern Sri Lanka to assist the Kandyan forces fighting against the Portuguese. The Kandyan Kingdom had longstanding relations with these South Indian states, which, as we will see, would later lead to a merging of royal dynasties. Vimaladharmasūriya also pursued a working relationship with the Dutch, the arch-nemesis of the Portuguese in the spice trade. Although these attempts failed to bear fruit during his reign, the negotiations that began in 1602 opened a dialogue between Kandy and the Netherlands that would eventually pay substantial dividends for both states. Not until 1617 did this policy of the Kandyan kings bear fruit. Having signed treaties with the Dutch and Danes and continued to support the indigenous anti-Portuguese elements in the lowlands, Senarat, who had succeeded his cousin Vimaladharmasūriya to the Kandyan throne, was able to negotiate a peace settlement with the Portuguese. While this appeared to be a major coup for the Kandyan king, it came at a steep price. Senarat was forced to recognize the legitimacy of Portuguese hegemony in the lowlands, the very area from which he drew his staunchest allies. However, Senarat seems to

84  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms have thought this an equitable trade for the Portuguese recognition of his right to the Kandyan throne, albeit as a titular ruler in the Portuguese eyes. This lull in hostilities was short-lived, however, and Senarat was helpless in the face of this renewed aggression, despite the fact that it was in direct violation of the terms of the 1617 treaty. That same treaty had greatly damaged his relations with anti-Portuguese elements in the Portuguese-controlled lowlands. After all, he had essentially sold out a wildly successful rebellion to make a separate peace with the Portuguese. Additionally, his European allies, the Danes and the Dutch were still in no position to pose a major threat to the Portuguese, as witnessed by the Danes failing to put up a fight over possession of Trincomalee.11 Finally, he was faced with an internal revolt at this time. Thus, the Portuguese were once again free to run roughshod over Kandyan autonomy, and they did exactly that for several years. In spring of 1633, a new treaty, which greatly resembled that of 1617, was negotiated and very reluctantly signed by Rājasiṃ ha II, Senarat’s grandson. The treaty changed very little of the status quo antebellum. Recognizing, as his predecessors before him had, that Kandy could not hope to rely solely upon the aid of the lowland Sinhala if he was to liberate the island from Portuguese rule, Rājasiṃ ha II courted the Dutch as potential allies. It was his good fortune that the balance of power among the European nations engaged in colonial ventures in South and Southeast Asia had changed considerably in the past few decades. The Dutch, in particular, had become more firmly established in their territories in the East Indies and were actively pursuing a more confrontational policy toward the Portuguese, attacking the latter’s possessions in India and China as early as 1636. Hoping to preempt such a Kandyan–Dutch alliance, the Portuguese commander at Colombo, intentionally ignoring the provisions of the recently signed treaty, invaded Kandyan territory in March 1638. In a seeming case of déjà vu, the Portuguese forces met with spectacular success, quickly capturing and burning the Kandyan capital. However, at that point the Indian mercenaries serving the Portuguese, who were believed to be more reliable that the Lascarin troops, defected to the Kandyans, and once again the entire Portuguese force, including the Colombo commander, were slaughtered or captured. Soon thereafter, in a joint operation, the Kandyans and Dutch captured the Portuguese base at Batticaloa. Trincomalee and Negombo would fall in much the same way within the next two years. However, the relationship between the Kandyans and the Dutch was strained from the very beginning, as the latter power was bent on simply replacing the Portuguese as the colonial power despite provisions in the treaty with Kandy to the contrary. Their unwillingness to hand over liberated maritime territories to Kandyan control quickly revealed their master plan; however, internal problems within the Kandyan Kingdom kept Rājasiṃ ha from being able to deal with Dutch duplicity to any great degree. At one point in 1644, the Dutch went so far as to ally themselves with the Portuguese to wage war against Kandy. The Portuguese, however, betrayed the Dutch by not sending any forces to help in their expedition against Kandy.

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  85 The Kandyans dealt the Dutch a decisive defeat. The Portuguese then tried to win Rājasiṃ ha to their side, but he was unwilling to set aside his hatred of his lifelong adversaries, even as a means to gain vengeance against the deceitful Dutch. When the truce between the Portuguese and Dutch ended in 1652, the latter once again allied with Kandy and embarked on a series of campaigns that would eventually lead to the expulsion of the Portuguese from the island in 1658. However, this also marked the end of cordial relations between the Kandyans and the Dutch as the latter had promised to hand Colombo over to the Kandyan king and completely reneged on the agreement. The history of Portuguese colonialism in Sri Lanka (1505–1658) was, from its inception, a bloody and acrimonious one. Invited in to assist the King of Kōt ̣ṭe fend off his rivals, they stayed, largely uninvited, and eventually seized full control of the kingdom from the people of Sri Lanka. The Portuguese set out not only to conquer the territory but also the souls of the indigenous peoples of the island. Forced conversions, the destruction of religious edifices and artifacts, and the murder of the priesthood were part and parcel of the Portuguese colonial policy. While this mode of terrorism won them territory and certain allies among the ruling class, it also created a deep-seated animosity among average Sri Lankans against the Portuguese. Indeed, one could argue that it was this animosity toward the Portuguese that helped to create such dangerous adversaries such as Rājasiṃ ha I of Sı̄tāwaka and Rājasiṃ ha II of Kandy, both of whom relied heavily upon the support of the lowland Sinhala, who languished under Portuguese rule, to aid in their military campaigns against the Portuguese. Both the Sı̄tāwaka and Kandyan kings were able to forge identities for themselves as champions of the oppressed indigenous population. It was this same deep-seated hatred for the Portuguese that led the Sı̄tāwakans and Kandyans to cast about for foreign alliances that might be able to aid in driving the Portuguese from the island, despite the fact that these rulers were fully aware that their new allies were likely to set themselves up as colonial powers on the island after the Portuguese were defeated. The unknown devil seemed better than the one already known. This was undoubtedly the thinking of Rājasiṃ ha II when he concluded the alliance with the Dutch, and though his fears concerning his new allies proved to be well founded, perhaps his estimation about trading an unknown devil for the one already tormenting him had some validity.

Dutch colonial period and the Kandyan Kingdom: (1658–1798) In the early years of their time in Lanka, the Dutch held sway over a very limited territory, focusing primarily on the coasts and the ports associated with international trade. Most of the interior of the island remained under the control of the Sinhala Kandyan Kingdom. It was the Dutch intent, rather than conquering the interior, to make the Kandyan Kingdom a landlocked state that was forced to rely on the Dutch for all contact with the outside world. Rājasiṃ ha II was aware of the Dutch designs, and as such, as early as

86  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms 1660 he made contact with the English, hoping again to play one European power against another. The Dutch, emboldened by Rājasiṃ ha II’s internal problems, set forth on a series of campaigns that saw them conquer large swaths of Kandyan territory, including all the major ports in the east of the island. Rājasiṃ ha offered no resistance. For the next five years, the Dutch continued on a seemingly unstoppable onslaught of Kandyan autonomy. Still Rājasiṃ ha did not offer combat. Then, as the Dutch were sure of their comfort in their newly gained territory, Rājasiṃ ha struck, and he struck hard. Within two years of combat, Rājasiṃ ha regained nearly all the Kandyan lands, and he had done so by using the time-tested technique of inciting rebellion within the lands of the colonial power. The lowland Sinhala had once again played a decisive role in the defeat of their colonial masters. Additionally, a French fleet had arrived in 1672 at Trincomalee, part of an earlier arranged agreement. While they played no active role in the battle, their presence was of great concern to the Dutch, and this concern was compounded when Rājasiṃ ha handed ostensible control of Kot ̣ṭiyār Bay to his new allies12 and welcomed a French ambassador to Kandy.13 The success of the Kandyan counteroffensive served as notice to the Dutch that they would be better served by a more friendly relationship with Rājasiṃ ha. Having great influence over the Kandyan Kingdom’s overseas trade by means of their control of all major ports, the Dutch administrators realized that the cessation of hostilities would be far more profitable. Thus, they continued to extend the hand of friendship to Rājasiṃ ha. Not surprisingly, the Kandyan king was highly skeptical; however, in the last years of his rule, hoping to secure the royal succession for his son, who he had once again brought back into the spotlight, Rājasiṃ ha finally made peace with the Dutch in the fall of 1687. By the end of that year, he was dead, and his son Vimaladharmasūriya II had succeeded him to the throne. During his reign, Rājasiṃ ha II had been revered by the Sinhala people, of both Kandy and the lowlands, regardless of whether they lived in territory controlled by Kandy or the Dutch. Through his charismatic personality, he was able to convince those working on Dutch lands to abandon their work and move to the Kandyan lands. Thus, to meet their need for laborers, the Dutch administrators routinely captured residents from the Malabar Coast of India as slaves to work on their plantations. These Malayalam speaking slaves were integral to the introduction of new deities and pantheons into Sri Lanka. These forced immigrants, many of them from the salāgama caste, and others from Tamil Nadu, who were mainly from the karāva caste, played significant roles in reinvigorating deva worship in their new environment.14 Thus, a strong South Indian influence was still affecting Sri Lankan society even when Europeans were in power. In Kandy, the new king, Vimaladharmasūriya II, proved to be a far less charismatic and martial king than his father. Luckily for his kingdom, his father had laid the foundation for a prolonged period of peace and relative

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  87 prosperity, during which martial prowess was far less needed from their king. Indeed, for about 90 years there existed a generally amicable relationship between the Kandyan throne and the Dutch colonial authorities. As such, Vimaladharmasūriya II turned his attention inward, not toward consolidating power in the monarchy but in reinvigorating the Buddhist priesthood. The higher ordination had disappeared among the Sinhala Buddhist saṅgha under Rājasiṃ ha II. In 1697, to remedy that situation, Vimaladharmasūriya II sent an embassy to Arakan, in modern-day Burma, to negotiate for that Buddhist kingdom to provide a handful of bhikṣhus who could bring the higher ordination back to Lanka. This mission was successful, and the king pressed the Dutch for further freedom to pursue freely such cultural exchanges, an act that was necessary given the Dutch control of all ports on the island. The Dutch were initially amenable to the idea, as it indebted the Kandyan monarch to them. However, Vimaladharmasūriya II soon began to conduct a brisk trade from his own port to the detriment of the Dutch, who by 1703 again placed strict restrictions on the Kandyans’ use of ports. Thus, the only true success that one can point to during the reign of Vimaladharmasūriya II was the reinfusion of vigor into the Buddhist priesthood. However, that too was short-lived. While the Kandyan king was focused on such pious matters, the Dutch were busy solidifying their control of the coastline of the island and essentially turning the Kandyan Kingdom into a landlocked power that relied on its positive relationship with the Dutch for its foreign relations. The Kandyan Kingdom, which had been on a par with the Dutch during the reign of Rājasiṃ ha II, by this point, had been fundamentally relegated to a vassal state of the Dutch colonial authorities. When Vimaladharmasūriya II died on June 4, 1707, his seventeen-year-old son, Śrı̄ Vēra Parākrama Narendra Siṃ ha, succeeded him. The first order of business for the young king was to find a proper bride. Although already married to a Kandyan woman of noble blood, Narendra Siṃ ha continued the practice of his predecessors in procuring his queen from the Nāyakkar dynasty of Madura. However, there are mixed accounts of the exact genealogy of the “princess” Narendra Siṃ ha married in 1708. While some records indicate that she was indeed a princess, others indicate that she was from a destitute junior branch of the Nāyakkars. These sources point to the fact that her entire immediate family accompanied her to Lanka and never returned to their homeland, suggesting that they had no standing in the Madura court.15 In 1709, a mere two years into his reign, Narendra Siṃ ha barely escaped an assassination attempt at the hands of many of his father’s most trusted confidants. These nobles felt threatened by the king’s open belligerence toward the traditional Kandyan nobility and his appointment to high position of several of his Nāyakkar in-laws. The rebel leaders intended to place the king’s half-brother, a son of Vimaladharmasūriya II by his Kandyan wife, on the throne. Only an eleventh-hour warning by one of his secondary ministers saved the young king. He promptly executed the leaders of the cabal.16 Nor was this the last such rebellion. In 1732, Narendra Siṃ ha appointed one of his South Indian courtiers as his treasurer, a position historically

88  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms preserved for Sinhala nobility, and gave him control over a number of villages as well. This led to a brief but widely supported rebellion on the part of the Sinhala chiefs from those villages given over to the South Indian minister.17 Although Narendra Siṃ ha was able to successfully quell the revolt, his foolishness in appointing a foreigner to such a high station was made abundantly clear to him not only by the revolt itself but also by his most trusted advisors in its aftermath. However, the remainder of that same decade would see a significant influx of South Indian, primarily Nāyakkar, immigrants. The main push factor that precipitated this immigration was the Muslim conquest of the Nāyakkar kingdoms of South India. In a classic example of chain migration, the new immigrants fled their demise in South India, following in the footsteps of their predecessors who had come to Kandy with the various marriages of the Nāyakkar princesses to Kandyan kings. Unlike the earlier wave of migrants, who had intermarried with the Sinhala and largely assimilated into the culture of Sri Lanka, the new immigrants preferred to live apart from the Sinhala. The king accommodated them accordingly. They perceived of themselves as a privileged class and treated the Sinhala accordingly. This behavior served as a constant source of friction between the monarch and the Sinhala nobility, who deeply resented the privileges heaped upon these foreign interlopers. However, Narendra Siṃ ha appears to have learned the lesson of the 1732 revolution well, as he never again appointed a South Indian to such a high position.18 With so much internal friction, it is hardly surprising that Narendra Siṃ ha spent little time on foreign policy. He was reliant on the Dutch for much of his foreign affairs and, in the last years of his reign, for his health as well, as Dutch doctors ministered to his various ailments. To compound the situation, he had no proper heir. Although he had three Nāyakkar wives, any of which could have provided him such an heir, he had no children by any of them. By one of his lesser Sinhala wives, he had a son, Unambuvē Baṇdạ r̄ a, whose succession was favored by many of the Sinhala chiefs; however, prevailing Kandyan law stated that such children had no right to inherit the throne. Narendra Siṃ ha was instead grooming one of his brothers-in-law to succeed him. This option, although completely contrary to tradition, appealed to a sizable faction of the Sinhala nobility, who feared that should Unambuvē Baṇdạ r̄ a ascend the throne his kinsmen would enjoy the spoils of office at the expense of all others.19

Indian immigrants among the general population There were also many categories of South Indians who migrated to the island during the Kandyan Period. Many of them assimilated into the culture of their new home, renouncing their former allegiances and identities. The most important among them were the Śaivite mendicants called Ā ṇḍi. This wave of Ā ṇḍi immigration reached its peak during the time of Rājasiṃ ha II, and spread to the various parts of the Kandyan Kingdom.

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  89 In fact, there is a very interesting folk tradition in the Kandyan region with regard to the arrival of Ā ṇḍi mendicants in the area. In almost every village, there is a bō tree on an elevated hillock that is attributed to an Ā ṇḍi mendicant. These stories vary from village to village but follow a general outline that states the Ā ṇḍi mendicant brought the bō sapling in a bowl. He went to the village in search of food, water, shelter, basic human contact, or to find a place to settle down. On his return, he finds the bō plant had taken root into the stone and he was thus unable to lift his bowl. The villagers attributed this to a miraculous phenomenon. So, thereafter, they accepted it as an object of religious rituals. The mendicant invariably married a local woman, took a Sinhala name, embraced Buddhism, and eventually gave up his connections with India, having been assimilated and integrated into the local society.20 In this story, it is important to focus on why the Ā ṇḍi mendicants brought bō saplings in their bowls. Why not bring some other kind of plant, which would have been perhaps more attractive as something exotic? The explanation I would suggest has a social and religious significance. The bō tree, being the religious symbol in Buddhism, makes it easier for an outsider to interact with the locals. It is mixed with emotion and religious fervor, and, therefore, social acceptance is made much easier than otherwise. It is also safer to travel about with a bō tree among Buddhists, as the element of suspicion is minimized. Probably the mendicants would have been aware of their predicament in walking among unknown people in a foreign country, particularly at a time when there were considerably high political tensions due to the presence of Nāyakkar kings. Therefore, it is logical to presume that they adopted this safe strategy to receive unhindered social acceptance in the new environment.21 As Lorna Srimathie Dewarāja states, “The strong influence of South Indian religious beliefs and practices in Kandyan society was undoubtedly due to the absorption of these immigrant groups.”22 The changes in the architecture especially illustrate the South Indian influences on the island, since the proliferation of Hindu worship and appearance of Hindu shrines built to typical South Indian design during the Kandyan Period. The assimilation of Pallava, Bharuth, and Ajanta art and architecture during the early periods also evinces the continuation of this tradition from very old times. It was during the Sı ̄tāwaka and Kandy periods one could see the most profound influence in this process. Rājasiṃ ha I, a Śaivite in private life, was known in his younger years as a great patron of Buddhism. However, he went to the extent of destroying Buddhist temples during the Hindu revival of the mid-eighteenth century, smearing himself with sacred ash in the Śaivite fashion and granting Samankanda, one of the most significant Buddhist religious sites on the island, to the Śaivites.23 An ongoing chain of political, cultural, and economic influences of this nature were seen during the Kandyan Kingdom. One of the main reasons for this was the matrimonial connections established between the South Indian and the Kandyan kingdoms. Started by Rājasiṃ ha II (1635–1687), the practice continued until the Sinhala lineage of kings ended with Śrı̄ Vēra Parākrama Narendra Siṃ ha (1707–1739). The four kings who followed were

90  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms all Nāyakkar and their queens were also South Indian. The South Indian Nāyakkar kings in honor of their gods started the four dēvāla perahära (Nātha, Viṣṇu, Kataragama, and Pattinı ̄) in Kandy. Kı ̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha, at the request of Welivita Saranankara Thera, added the Dal ̣adā Māligāwa perahära only later.24 Even today, temples like Lankātilaka, Gadalādeniya, Nātha dēvālaya, and Ā dāhanamaluwa Gedigē bear testimony to South Indian cultural invasion.

Nāyakkar rule and South Indian influence While the vast majority of such Indian immigrants assimilated to the Sinhala culture, the South Indian immigrants who arrived in Sri Lanka as members of the royal court did not. Indeed, they deliberately set themselves apart from and above all things Sinhala. With the death of Śrı̄ Vēra Parākrama Narendra Siṃ ha in late 1739, the Sinhalese dynasty ended. He was succeeded by Śrı̄ Vijaya Rājasiṃ ha, also known as Rājasiṃ ha III, the aforementioned brother of the late king’s South Indian wife, a princess of the Nāyakkar dynasty, thereby institutionalizing a new tradition of succession, unprecedented either in India or in Sri Lanka. This is the first instance one comes across in Sri Lankan history where succession systematically went against the accepted law of patrilineal royal succession.25 Thereafter, the chief queens, and most of the other queens, of all the subsequent kings were brought from South India. Although these kings outwardly appeared to be Sinhala Buddhist monarchs, having adopted Sinhala names and, ostensibly, the Buddhist faith, inwardly for all intents and purposes they were ardent Hindus and South Indians.26 In fact, the royalty in Kandy were living in an enclave of their own, completely alienated from the general population of the country. Their dress, customs, and religious practices were all South Indian and Hindu. Even succession to the throne was now decided by customs that were completely alien to the Sri Lankan tradition. It is interesting to note that despite the earlier ambivalence that the Sinhala had displayed at having a foreigner appointed to the position of treasurer and given control of key villages, none of that sort of animosity seems to have emerged over having a foreigner from the same Indian lands crowned as king. This seems rather odd, but it is possible that in having a foreigner sit upon the throne rather than one of their own, the chiefs were in some ways liberated to play a freer hand at grabbing more power for themselves collectively, as none of them were tied as closely to the monarch by kinship. Albeit these Nāyakkar kings took Sinhala names and ostensibly embraced Buddhism, still the depth of their conviction was merely for display and the retinue which accompanied them and helped them to administer the kingdom did not necessarily follow their example. According to Obeyesekere, the Nāyakkars embraced Buddhism, but they extended their patronage to the popular South Indian gods of their homeland.27 Their queens and the retinue who came to Sri Lanka had the opportunity to worship their own deities

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  91 locally. The Nāyakkars were born and raised as Hindus and played a significant role in creating a new hybrid version of Buddhism by mixing both religions.28 This is the very sort of syncretism that Tony K. Stewart and Carl W. Ernst describe as …the combination or alliance of religious or philosophical doctrines, often with political undertones, that results in public and private rituals and commonly accepted practices which appear to the observer to link orientations that are normally disparate, if not disjunctive… [and] is often used to describe the product of the large-scale imposition of one alien culture, religion, or body of practices over another this is already present.29 The Nāyakkar kings and their South Indian relatives proved to be much savvier than their Sinhala predecessors in terms of trade, much to the chagrin of their Dutch rivals. Their contacts with the South Indian kingdoms proved to be detrimental to the Dutch interests in the area and served as a constant source of friction between the two powers on the island. The Nāyakkar nobility in Kandy grew quite wealthy based on their illicit trade with the subcontinent.30 With the death of Rājasiṃ ha III in 1747, his brother-in-law ascended the throne as Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha, a mere youth of 16 at the time. Not surprisingly, he was easily manipulated in the early years of his reign, with his chief puppet master being his father, Narenappā Nāyakkar, a wealthy courtier who led a faction of Nāyakkar nobility adamantly hostile to the native Sinhala aristocracy. Within a very short while, the boorish behavior of Narenappā Nāyakkar and his friends proved too much for the Sinhala chiefs. Early in 1749, they made it quite clear to the young king that should he choose to allow his father to engage in his political intrigues, the Sinhala nobility was perfectly able to find someone else to place upon the Kandyan throne. The uncommonly united front presented by the native aristocracy over this matter proved convincing to Kı ̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha, who forbade his father to continue to meddle in affairs of state. A likely rebellion was thus averted.31 Following in the footsteps of many of his predecessors, both Sinhala and Nāyakkar, Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha attempted to revitalize the saṅgha. Previous attempts had been made to bring bhikṣhus to Lanka from the various Buddhist kingdoms of Southeast Asia, but had met with limited and temporary success. In 1753, a substantial body of monks and emissaries arrived in Lanka from Siam in response to a request from Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha. This quickly led to the reinstatement of the upasampadā, higher ordination, among the Sri Lankan priesthood, and in turn to the restoration of age-old ties between the two kingdoms and the san ̇gha therein. In fact, the Sri Lankan saṅgha had been earlier responsible for the introduction of Sinhala Theravāda Buddhism to Siam. In addition to the arrival of this wave of monks, others

92  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms would follow, and with them they brought a number of important and rare religious texts, many of which had not been seen in Lanka since the reign of Rājasiṃ ha I of Sı ̄tāwaka, who upon his conversion to Hinduism had burned a great many such texts.32 Having achieved this, Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha hoped to endear himself to his adopted co-religionists, likely, in part, to serve as insurance against the scheming of the Sinhala native aristocracy. One can well imagine his surprise when the king learned that the newly revitalized priesthood became overtly politicized. In fact, admission to the upper echelons of the order required membership in the upper castes of the realm. Thus, the ecclesiastical leaders were drawn from the same aristocratic families that Kı ̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha had hoped to protect himself in the first place. Rather than thwarting his adversaries, he had handed them a powerful new tool. The one positive dividend to the king for his revitalization of the priesthood was that the Buddhist monks from Dutch controlled territories must come to the Kandyan-controlled temples to receive their ordination. As such, the Buddhist faith reemerged as a unifying factor for the people of the island and encouraged the lowland Sinhala to look toward Kandy and the Nāyakkar for leadership and religious succor. Interestingly enough, this latter sentiment was not as enthusiastically embraced within the Kandyan Kingdom itself. In fact, in 1760, a grand conspiracy that included elements of the Sinhala Buddhist ecclesiastical leadership, Sinhala nobles, and the Siamese bhikṣhus who Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha had brought to Lanka launched a scheme aimed at removing the Nāyakkar monarch from the Kandyan throne in favor of a Siamese prince, Krom Muen Tep Pippet.33 While the elaborate assassination plot was successfully foiled, it had a couple of long-term impacts. First, the king was terrified to the point that he seldom ventured forth from the palace for some time after the plot. Second, the Dutch were intrigued by the notion that they might be able to use other Buddhist dynasties in Asia as leverage against the Nāyakkars. Indeed, the Siamese prince involved in the incident, rather than being executed, had been repatriated, and this was accomplished through the services of the Dutch. One can well imagine that they took the opportunity to get to know such a potentially useful ally. In the spring of 1761, encouraged by discontent in the Dutch controlled low country, Kandyan forces poured across the border separating the lands of the two powers. In alliance with their low country brethren, the Kandyans drove the Dutch before them, overrunning several strategic locations and forts. The Dutch were caught completely unaware and put up a very weak defense. However, as had happened so many times before, the Kandyan offensive began to flounder by mid-year. With Dutch reinforcements pouring in from their territories in India and the low country Sinhala abandonment of the offensive due to the planting season, the Kandyans were driven back. Key Kandyan territories fell into the hands of the Dutch, and Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha, realizing his inability to continue the war, fell back on time-tested Kandyan diplomatic techniques. He sued for peace with the Dutch, while at

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  93 the same time sending out feelers for assistance from other European powers in the region. In the latter designs, he found a ready audience with the British in Madras.34 As first contact with the European powers had so often proved to be, this first interaction with the British fell well short of the Kandyan monarch’s hopes for aid. In fact, the British had essentially told him that if he wanted any help from them, he would have to become a vassal of the British East India Company, not an especially tempting offer. For the time being, the devil known seemed preferable to the one less familiar.35 Furthermore, far from intimidating the Dutch to make peace with Kandy, Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha’s overtures to the British served to fuel a far more assertive and belligerent response from the Dutch. In 1763, the Dutch embarked on an elaborate campaign to capture Kandy. Perhaps it was too elaborate. Launching attacks from several different points, the venture floundered miserably, and the Dutch were forced to withdraw to their fortifications. However, rather than coming to the negotiating table as Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha continued to suggest, the Dutch merely prepared for another attack.36 In January 1765, this new attack was launched and it met with spectacular success. In fact, within little more than a month, Dutch forces had captured Kandy. Kı ̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha had abandoned the capital, going so far as to burn the royal archives, lest it fall into the hands of the enemy. The Dutch commander, the Governor Lubbert Jan van Eck, was so enamored of the city, despite the horrendous destruction rendered upon it by his soldiers’ unrestrained looting, he decided to remain in Kandy for the season and to hold court in the royal palace. In fact, he called upon all the Sinhala leadership to appear before him if they wished to retain their positions, with the threat that failure to do so would see them not only stripped of their positions but reduced in caste as well. This was the absolute height of pomposity on the part of the Dutch. Having secured their geographical objective in conquering the capital, they had assured their utter failure in winning the hearts and minds of the Kandyan people. They would pay dearly.37 Unable to engage the Kandyan forces with the king, the Dutch resorted to terrorizing the countryside around Kandy. Disease, lack of materiel and rations, and the weather began to take their tolls on the Dutch and their auxiliaries. The latter began to abandon the city. Van Eck, realizing the futility of remaining in Kandy in the face of such circumstances, left behind a minimal force with the promise of sending reinforcements upon his return to Colombo. His retreat was harried much of the way back to Colombo, and, sick and exhausted, van Eck died on April 1, 1765.38 The Dutch troops left in Kandy fared no better. Their commander succumbed to disease and his second followed close behind. The demoralized and decimated Dutch beat a hasty retreat in the hopes of reaching Colombo before the onset of the rainy season. As with van Eck’s forces before them, the unit was constantly assailed on all sides by the emboldened Kandyan

94  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms forces, which were now in their element fighting a guerilla war. The Dutch had managed to steal defeat from the jaws of victory. It was after this tumultuous year of conflict that the two beleaguered and battered foes sat down to negotiations in Colombo in December 1765. Neither side was willing to budge in the early stages of negotiations; however, the humiliation of the recent campaign against Kandy and the lingering specter of British interference in Sri Lankan affairs induced the Dutch to be magnanimous in subsequent phases of diplomacy. By the close of deliberations, both sides had a treaty that they could live with if not one that either side found particularly palatable. Most of the territorial claims returned to a status quo antebellum; however, the Dutch were granted a mile-deep control over the entire coastline of the island, which essentially made Kandy wholly reliant upon the goodwill of the Dutch for foreign relations and trade. This of course would eventually prove to be untenable for the Kandyan monarch.39 Having metaphorically signed the treaty at the point of a knife, the Kandyan monarch felt very little compulsion to abide by it. In fact, Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha ignored nearly every article of the agreement. Moreover, when it became increasingly obvious that the Dutch power was waning in Europe and Asia, the king was progressively emboldened in his pursuits. Indeed, he again sought European aid to assist him in finally ridding the island of the Dutch. His earlier overtures to the British having left a bad impression upon him, Kı ̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha turned instead to the French this time, and things seemed to look as though they would proceed swimmingly for such an endeavor. However, events in Europe would unravel the Kandyan king’s plans. With the outbreak of the Fourth Anglo–Dutch War in 1780, the French and Dutch became allies, and, thus, French designs on Lanka were shelved. The war proved disastrous for the Dutch and their allies. Britain blockaded Dutch ports in Europe and sought to seize Dutch colonial territories around the globe. With few exceptions, the latter venture was overwhelmingly successful. Most of the Dutch territories in the West Indies, Africa, and Asia fell to the British onslaught.40 In Asia, the Dutch East India Company had been historically solely responsible for defending its colonies east of the Cape Colony; however, they were forced now to send for assistance from the Dutch navy. Not surprisingly, there were no ships to spare for such an endeavor. Thus, by the end of 1782, all Dutch holdings on the subcontinent, excluding Sri Lanka, had fallen to the British. The ability of the Dutch to hold on to the island was in serious doubt, and in January 1782, British Admiral Sir Edward Hughes captured the eastern Sri Lankan port of Trincomalee, considered by many to be the finest deepwater harbor in South Asia.41 The British embassy, sent to Kandy in the wake of their capture of Trincomalee, was much more fawning than previously during encounters between the two powers. In fact, the British emissary, Hugh Boyd, proposed that the British would help the Kandyan monarch regain all his lands if the king would be so kind as to provide for the British forces left on the island.

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  95 The British intent was to keep the French from gaining a hold in Lanka, as the Dutch were clearly finished as a major colonial power.42 The new Kandyan king, Rājādhı̄, was well aware of the precarious position in which the Dutch currently found themselves and used this leverage to prevail upon them to return the coastal territories granted them under the terms of the insufferable 1766 treaty. The Dutch were forced to concede, and as a result, Rājādhi Rājasiṃ ha rebuffed British overtures, reminding Boyd of the great disservice the British had done the Kandyans when they had turned to the British for assistance in the midst of their 1762 conflict with the Dutch. Indeed, the Kandyan monarch astutely pointed out that had the British come to their aid at that point, the Kandyans would not have suffered the devastating attack on Kandy and the mortifying peace treaty of 1766. The following year, 1783, saw the cessation of hostilities between the European forces in Asia as Britain and France reached a ceasefire agreement in preparation for peace negotiations. As a result of the Treaty of Paris of 1784, the French, who had helped the Dutch retain Lanka, returned control of their colonial holdings on the island to their ally.43 For a number of years thereafter, the Dutch in Lanka appeared to be preoccupied with repairing the damage done by the war, both in terms of their colonial holdings and their reputation. However, by the early 1790s, they once again embarked on an antagonistic policy toward Kandy, blaming their rivals for the economic hardships that were underway in their own part of the island at the time. As a result, Rājādhi Rājasiṃ ha again entertained the notion of establishing alliances with the French or the British to counterpoise the Dutch menace. It so happened that this turn of events coincided once again with significant political developments in Europe. In the mid-1790s, revolution in the Netherlands had forced the government to go into exile in England. From there, orders were sent to Dutch authorities in the colonies to provisionally turn control over to British authorities until such time as the government in exile could regain control of matters in the Netherlands. However, not all colonial administrators were willing to abide by such an order, and those in Lanka were in this more recalcitrant camp. This resulted almost immediately in the British invasion of Lanka in July 1795. Soon after capturing Trincomalee, in August of that same year, the British sent another emissary to Kandy to determine their stance on the conflict between the two European powers. Given the recent bellicosity of the Dutch administrators toward Kandy, Rājādhi Rājasiṃ ha was quite amenable to working with the British. Having reached an initial agreement, the Kandyans worked in conjunction with the British in quickly capturing the entirety of the Dutch holdings in Sri Lanka, and the Dutch authorities surrendered Colombo after only a week-long siege by a joint Anglo–Kandyan force on February 16, 1796. However, the Kandyans had only procured a final treaty with the British a mere four days before the fall of Colombo, and by that point, the success of the anti-Dutch campaign was virtually assured. As such, the treaty essentially

96  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms handed over to the British East India Company the lands previously held by the Dutch. The British did provide, however, a small concession in allowing the Kandyans to conduct limited trade out of a special harbor. However, both sides were granted a two-year period during which to ratify the treaty. Neither side ever did. To many Kandyans it seemed that they had again exchanged one foreign antagonist for another, for the Dutch were now gone from Lanka forever.44

Apotheoses and Sammuti-devas of the Kandyan Kingdom At the same time as these events were progressing, religious syncretism was still very much in play in Sri Lanka. Indeed, with the heightened interaction between immigrants from India, the Netherlands, and Britain, it is hardly surprising to find a reciprocal spike in such occurrences. A prime example of such interaction is the deity Dadimunda, also known as Alutnuvara Deviyo, Dēvatā Baṇḍāra, or Vāhala/Vāsala, who factors prominently among those deities who came into eminence during the Kandyan Period. According to prevalent tradition, he landed at Dondra (Devinuvara) in South Sri Lanka from South India. He proceeded to Alutnuvara in the Kegalla District, taking up permanent residence there in a temple, which he himself constructed. He is regarded as a general of Viṣṇu and accordingly, at the main Viṣṇu shrines in the island, he frequently has his smaller shrines. Another interesting tradition says that he was the only deity who did not run away in fear at the time of Bodhisattva Siddhartha’s struggle with Mara. While all the other deities fled in fright, he alone remained fearless as the Bodhisattva’s guardian.45 Dadimunda is portrayed in the attire of a Kandyan chief with his special attribute, a walking stick (sōluva). His Kandyan dress symbolizes his suzerainty over the Kandyan area. He is intricately associated with Hūniyam, as the latter is believed to answer to Dadimunda.46 It is said that those deeds that are too malevolent for Viṣṇu to perform are assigned to Dadimunda, and those deeds even too violent for him are passed on to Hūniyam. Thus, it is not surprising that an early ethnographer learned that he is “invoked when demon-possessed patients cannot be cured by the ordinary devil dance. At his dēvāla in Alut Nuwera, 11 miles from Kandy, the Kapurāla beats the patient with canes till the devil is exorcised.”47 According to another legend, King Kı̄rti Śrı̄ Rājasiṃ ha (ruled 1747–1782) had a son by one of his Kandyan wives.48 The boy’s name was Kiribanda. The boy was the apple of his father’s eye. Indeed, the King was so fond of the youth that he planned to make him his successor, a plan that went against the prevailing mode of succession among the Nāyakkar kings of Kandy. The King’s ministers, most of them Nāyakkars themselves, were adamantly opposed to the idea, and they plotted against the young prince by plying the King with tales depicting the prince in a bad light. Thus, they were able to drive a wedge between the King and his son. Realizing the peril in which he was in, Prince Kiribanda fled to Danagamuwa in the Walapane area

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  97 and brought a large tract of land under paddy cultivation. There he lived like a local ruler. Unsatisfied with this situation, the king’s ministers again fomented suspicion in the King’s mind. They convinced the King to visit his son. Meanwhile, they also sent messages to Kiribanda stating that the King was coming with the intent to confiscate his paddy fields. Thus, when the King arrived Kiribanda assailed him, stating that even if he were pushed down the nearby cliff, he would not surrender his fields to the King. Naturally, this angered Kı̄rti Śrı̄, and he ordered his attendants to push his son down the aforementioned cliff. This accomplished, Kiribanda died. However, he was immediately reborn as a powerful deviyo, Kı̄rti Baṇḍāra Deviyo. While falling Kiribanda had managed to take with him the man who pushed him down the precipice, and, having also perished in the plummet, this man was likewise reborn as a yakkā by the name Heda Yakkā, a supernatural being who people believe looks after farmlands of the area.49 Upon his rebirth as a deviyo, Kı̄irti Baṇḍāra Deviyo cursed his father, saying that he would not be able to move his elephant from that place. Only after the king had tied his nalalpataya, an ornament kings and nobility tie on their foreheads as a symbol of their station, to a Telambu tree at the same height as the elephant and propitiated Kı̄rti Baṇḍāra Deviyo for mercy were they able to move the elephant.50

British colonialism and the fall of the Kandyan Kingdom Whereas the longstanding policy of seeking assistance from one European power against another had occasionally paid dividends in the past, the Kandyans would soon learn the folly of employing that policy in this particular case. Rather than exchanging an average European power for another, one that the Kandyan Kingdom might hope to hold its own against, the Kandyans had instead exchanged a European power that was a shadow of its former self and a declining threat to Kandy for the European superpower of the colonial era. Had Rājādhi Rājasiṃ ha, who by all accounts was a competent scholar, paid more attention to the manner in which Britain was emerging as the preeminent power in the region, perhaps he would have been far less anxious to pursue a diplomatic course that helped bring them to the island. However, it would be his successor who would ultimately pay the price for this policy. While the British appear to have not been terribly inclined to pursue a policy that would see them in full control of the island in the early years of their tenure in Sri Lanka, they were, like their Portuguese and Dutch predecessors, unwilling to pass up a golden opportunity to interfere in the affairs of the Kandyan Kingdom when such should present itself. A mere two years after their acquisition of the Dutch territories, just such an opportunity arose with the death of Rājādhi Rājasiṃ ha. The king was childless, and so the question of succession was open for speculation. There was no dearth of

98  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms contenders who openly vied for the position; however, the late king’s nephew, Prince Kannasamy, emerged triumphant and was crowned Śrı̄ Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha. The new king owed his position in large part due to the patronage of the powerful Kandyan prime minister, adiga ̄r, Pilima Talawwe.51 Far from having his young protégé’s best interests at heart, Pilima Talawwe plotted covert operations with the British, albeit with vastly different goals in mind, to provoke the young king into acts of aggression that would serve the British as a justification to seize the kingdom. At least, that is what the British believed he was planning. Pilima Talawwe manipulated Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha into beginning a military conflict against the British, who had attained a strong position in the coastal provinces. On March 22, 1803, war was declared and the British entered Kandy with minimal resistance. The king, employing standard Kandyan tactics, had fled. Pilima Talawwe massacred the British garrison in Kandy that summer and restored Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha to the throne; however, he plotted to overthrow the king and seize the throne for himself. His scheme was revealed, and, in light of previous misconduct for which he had been pardoned, the king recognized a pattern of behavior that  was detrimental to his own livelihood. Thus, Pilima Talawwe was executed.52 The excuse for further British action against Kandy was provided by the abduction of a number of British merchants, who were detained on suspicion  of espionage and were subsequently tortured, some to the point of death. An assault was accordingly mounted and advanced to the Kandyan capital without opposition, arriving in the city on February 10, 1815. On March 2, the kingdom was ceded to the British under a treaty called the Kandyan Convention, which allowed for the safeguarding of Buddhism and the conservation of local systems of government under the authority of the British Governor in Colombo and overseen by British agents in Sabaragamuwa, the Three Korales, and Uva. However, in practice, the Kandyan nobles were intensely aware that they were, in the end, accountable to the British and were for all accounts inferior in status to British military officers who now had unfettered access to their territories. The Kandyan Kingdom, the last indigenous realm of the island and the successor to a nearly 2,400-year history of Sinhala rule, was no more.53 The British apprehended Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha and took him as a prisoner to Vellore Fort in South India. He lived on a small allowance given to him and his queens by the British government. On January 30, 1832, he died of natural causes.54

Conclusion From the twelfth through the sixteenth century CE and throughout the various kingdoms that sprang up on the island, Sri Lanka faced a seemingly ongoing instability in terms of political, military, and socio-cultural influences, which required a counterbalancing ability within the Sinhala culture to absorb foreign elements and adapt to change. The impact of Hinduism also

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  99 heavily influenced the literature and architecture of these periods. The popularity of deity veneration was on the ascent. Nonetheless, such veneration of Hindu deities by Sinhala Buddhists met with periodic resistance expressed by eminent Buddhist monks of the orthodox Theravāda san ̇gha. These Hindu deities were eventually incorporated into the Buddhist pantheon in the same manner in which migrating Hindus from South India assimilated into a new culture, bringing with them many traditions that were likewise assimilated into their new culture. By and large, this is a trend that would continue later, even under the advent of colonial rule. While the Portuguese, Dutch, and English each attempted to foist their own programs of hegemony upon the Lankans, the indigenous monarchs of Sı̄tāwaka and Kandy, and later the imported Nāyakkar dynasty relied upon their perceived status as protector of the Buddhist faith to rally the Sinhala of their kingdoms and those within the European controlled territories to their banners in opposition to such foreign hegemony. While this proved exceedingly successful against the first three centuries of European colonialism, even for such controversial figures as the Hindu zealot Rājasiṃ ha I of Sı̄tāwaka, it was not sufficient leverage to overcome the might of the English efforts of the early nineteenth century. However, the Sinhala would find that, in terms of religious matters, the English were far less belligerent in their policies toward Buddhism than their predecessors were.

Notes 1 Pieris and Naish, 93. 2 Strathern, Kingship and Conversion, 187. 3 Strathern, “Sri Lanka in the Long Early Modern Period,” 815–869. 4 Senadeera, 117–120. 5 Guṇasēkara, Rājavaliya, 93. 6 Navaratnam, 30. 7 Bassett, 128. 8 Parker, 142. 9 De Silva, Sri Lanka and the Maldive Islands, 153–155. 10 Abeyasinghe, 23–24. 11 Lach and van Kley, 88–93. 12 This was largely symbolic since the Dutch retained control over the base at Trincomalee and the French were in no shape to fight for it. 13 Suckling, 336–337. 14 Obeyesekere and Gombrich, Buddhism Transformed, 178. 15 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 35. 16 Dewarāja, Sri Lanka through French Eyes, 35. 17 Holt, Kı ̄rti Śrı ̄, 10–12. 18 Codrington, 138. 19 Dharmadasa, Language, 10. 20 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 57. 21 From a personal conversation with Dr. Sudath Gunasekara. 22 Laṅkānanda, 50. 23 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 111.

100  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms 24 Richard Aluwihare, The Kandy Esala Perahera: With a Reference to the Raja Perahera to be Held in Kandy in Connection with the Royal Visit (Colombo: Ceylon Daily News, 1952). 25 Gopalakrishnan, 23. 26 Wickremeratne, 139. 27 Gombrich and Obeyesekere, Buddhism Transformed, 178. 28 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 186. 29 Claus, Diamond, and Mills, 586–587. 30 Brendon Gooneratne, The Epic Struggle of the Kingdom of Kandy and Its Relevance to Modern Indo-Sri Lankan Relations (London: Argus Publications, 1995). ́ ̄: Buddhism, 23. 31 Holt, Kı ̄rti Srı 32 Tsomo, 120. 33 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 121. 34 Wickremesekera, 133. 35 Gopalakrishnan, 112. 36 Black, 99–100. 37 De Silva and Beumer, 346–349. 38 Blaze, 187–188. 39 Schrikker, 39. 40 Weerasooria, 275. 41 Codrington, 145. 42 Schrikker, 114–115. 43 Codrington, 145. 44 Mills, 12–26. 45 Evers, 28–29. 46 Scott, 19. 47 Perera, 19. 48 Parker, 154. 49 Wickramasingha, 3–7. 50 Dharmadasa, Sinhala Devapuranaya, 209–213. 51 Seneviratna, 37–38. 52 Powell, 66–75. 53 Iriyagolle, The Kandyan Convention: A Conditional Treaty of Cession Between the Sinhalese and the British, 2nd March 1815 (Colombo: Sinhala Veera Vidahana, 2000). 54 Wickremesekera, 42.

Bibliography Abeyasinghe, Tikiri. Portuguese Rule in Ceylon, 1594–1612. Colombo: Lake House, 1966. Aluwihare, Richard. The Kandy Esala Perahera: With a Reference to the Raja Perahera to be Held in Kandy in Connection with the Royal Visit. Colombo: Ceylon Daily News, 1952. Bassett, Ralph Henry. Romantic Ceylon: Its History, Legend and Story, etc. London: Cecil Palmer, 1929. Blaze, Louis Edmund. History of Ceylon. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 2004. Claus, Peter J., Sarah Diamond, and Margaret Ann Mills. South Asian Folklore: An Encyclopedia: Afghanistan, Bangladesh, India, Nepal, Pakistan, Sri Lanka. New York: Routledge, 2003. Codrington, Humphrey William. Short History of Ceylon. London: Macmillan, 1926.

European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms  101 de Silva, Chandra Richard. Sri Lanka and the Maldive Islands. Burlington, VT: Ashgate, 2006. de Silva, Rajpal Kumar, and Willemina G.M. Beumer. Illustrations and Views of Dutch Ceylon 1602–1796. London: Serendib Publications, 1988. Dewarāja, L.S. The Kandyan Kingdom: A Study of the Political, Administrative, and Social Structure of the Kandyan Kingdom of Ceylon, 1707–1760. Colombo: Lake House, 1972. ———. Sri Lanka through French Eyes. Colombo: Institute of Fundamental Studies, 1989. Dharmadasa, K.N.O. Language, Religion and Ethnic Assertiveness: The Growth of Sinhalese Nationalism in Sri Lanka. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992. Dharmadasa, K.N.O., and H.M.S. Tundeniya. Simhala De ̄va Puran̄ aya. Colombo: Rajayē Mudraṇa Nı̄tigata Saṃ sthāva, 1994. Evers, Hans-Dieter. Monks, Priests and Peasants: A Study of Buddhism and Social Structure in Central Ceylon. Leiden: Brill, 1972. Gombrich, Richard F., and Gananath Obeyesekere. 1988. Buddhism Transformed: Religious Change in Sri Lanka. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press. Gooneratne, Brendon. The Epic Struggle of the Kingdom of Kandy and Its Relevance to Modern Indo-Sri Lankan Relations. London: Argus Publications, 1995. Gopalakrishnan, Subramanian. The Nayaks of Sri Lanka, 1739–1815: Political Relations with the British in South India. Madras: New Era Publications, 1988. Guṇasēkara, Bandusēna. The Rajavaliya, Or, A Historical Narrative of Sinhalese Kings from Vijaya to Vimala Dharma Surya II: To Which Are Added a Glossary and a List of Sovereigns. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1995. Holt, John Clifford. The Religious World of Kı ̄rti Śrı ̄: Buddhism, Art, and Politics in Late Medieval Sri Lanka. New York: Oxford University Press, 1996. Iriyagolle, Gamini. The Kandyan Convention: A Conditional Treaty of Cession between the Sinhalese and the British, 2nd March 1815. Colombo: Sinhala Veera Vidahana, 2000. Lach, Donald Frederick, and Edwin J. van Kley. Asia in the Making of Europe, Volume III: A Century of Advance. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1993. Laṅkānanda, Labugama. Mandāram Pura Puvata. Battaramulla: Saṃ skr̥tika Kaṭayutu Depārtamēntuva, 1996. Mills, Lennox A. Ceylon under British Rule, 1795–1932: With an Account of the East India Company’s Embassies to Kandy. New York: Barnes & Noble, 1965. Navaratnam, C.S. A Short History of Hinduism in Ceylon and Three Essays on the Tamils. Jaffna: Sri Sanmuganatha Press, 1964. Parker, Henry. Ancient Ceylon. Reprint. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1992. Perera, Arthur A. Sinhalese Folklore Notes, Ceylon. Bombay: Printed at the British India Press, Mazgoan, 1917. Pieris, Paulus Edward, and Richard Bryant Naish. Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505– 1658. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999. Powell, Geoffrey. The Kandyan Wars: The British Army in Ceylon, 1803–1818. New Delhi: Navrang, 1984. Schrikker, Alicia. Dutch and British Colonial Intervention in Sri Lanka, 1780–1815: Expansion and Reform. Boston, MA: Brill, 2007. Scott, David. Formations of Ritual: Colonial and Anthropological Discourses on the Sinhala Yaktovil. Minneapolis: University of Minnesota Press, 1994.

102  European colonialism versus the indigenous kingdoms Senadeera, Karunaratne Gunapala. Buddhist Symbolism of Wish-Fulfilment. Delhi: Sri Satguru Publications, 1992. Seneviratna, Anuradha. Kandy: An Illustrated Survey of Ancient Monuments, with Historical, Archaeological, and Literary Descriptions Including Maps of the City and Its Suburbs. Colombo: Central Cultural Fund, Ministry of Cultural Affairs, Sri Lanka, 1983. Strathern, Alan. Kingship and Conversion in Sixteenth-Century Sri Lanka: Portuguese Imperialism in a Buddhist Land. Vols. University of Cambridge Oriental Publications, no. 66. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. ———. “Sri Lanka in the Long Early Modern Period: Its Place in a Comparative Theory of Second Millennium Eurasian History.” Modern Asian Studies 43, no. 4 (2009): 815–869. Suckling, Horatio John. Ceylon; A General Description of the Island, Historical, Physical, Statistical. Containing Most Recent Information. London: Chapman & Hall, 1876. Tsomo, Karma Lekshe. Buddhist Women and Social Justice: Ideals, Challenges, and Achievements. Albany: State University of New York Press, 2004. Weerasooria, N.E. Ceylon and Her People, Volume 2. Colombo: Lake House, 1971. Wickramasingha, D.P. Magadigata Janakatha. Gangodavila, Nugegoda: Prasanna Printers, 1971. Wickremeratne, Ananda. “Historiography in Conflict and Violence.” In Buddhism, Conflict and Violence in Modern Sri Lanka, edited by Deegalle Mahinda, 237–254. New York: Routledge, 2006. Wickremesekera, Channa. Kandy at War: Indigenous Military Resistance to European Expansion in Sri Lanka 1594 – 1818. Colombo: Vijitha Yapa Publications, 2004.

6 From British hegemony to the modern era

British colonial rule The British created an economy in Lanka based on plantation agriculture. From the 1830s, taking over vast areas of land in the central highlands, the British administration sold them cheaply to British nationals and encouraged the development of large plantations. Coffee, tea, rubber, and coconuts became the colony’s principal exports. When local Sinhala refused to work on the plantations, the British administration brought in large numbers of Tamils from South India to work as migrant laborers. Thus, while invasions from South India had ceased, the influx of immigrants and cultural influences had hardly dissipated to any great extent. The conditions under which these laborers were brought to Lanka were such that large numbers of them died of disease during transportation. After clearing the forest, they formed the regimented labor living on the plantations, separated from the native Sinhala. With all the foreign influences of the colonial period, from the Portuguese through the British, by the eighteenth century the Buddhist upasampadā system came to an end and the Pāli and Sanskrit languages had fallen into decline, if not complete abeyance. However, by the middle of the eighteenth century, due to the rigorous work of the Buddhist monk Velivita Saranankara both Buddhism and the languages were protected. In 1815 when the entire island fell under the rule of the British, one of the conquerors’ main purposes was to spread Christianity among the Sinhala Buddhists. Sir Edward Barnes, the British governor of Ceylon from January 18, 1824 to October 13, 1831, encouraged missionaries to flock to Sri Lanka with the express intention of using the English education system as the main tool to convert people to Christianity.1 Even prior to the fall of the Kandyan Kingdom, the British governor who ruled over the rest of Sri Lanka, Fredrick North (governed 1798–1805), wanted to build a loyal relationship between Britain and Sri Lanka through education and he planned to carry this out through the conversion of the elite families in Sri Lanka.2 To meet this purpose, the school system in Sri Lanka began to uproot the traditional Sinhala, Pāli, and Sanskrit education to a missionary style education system. The intent was to create the notion that DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-6

104  From British hegemony to the modern era those who were in positions of power were exclusively Christian, and indeed, legislation was quickly passed requiring a Christian education as qualification for government employment. As a response to Protestant Christian missionaries and their evangelical activities during the British colonial period, a new form of Buddhism, termed “Protestant Buddhism,” arose. This new brand of Buddhism emulated the Protestant method of proselytizing and conversion by inaugurating Buddhist schools and Buddhist organizations such as the Young Men’s Buddhist Association. In response to the ever-present question posited by the Christian missionaries, “Where is your book?” Protestant Buddhists printed pamphlets to encourage people to participate in debates and religious controversies to defend Buddhism. Perhaps one of the greatest contributions to this Buddhist reaction to the Christian missionaries was the philanthropy of Colonel Henry Steel Olcott. In 1880, this American eccentric, a founding father and president of the Theosophical Society, arrived in Sri Lanka. Olcott was passionately interested in Buddhism, and he is widely celebrated for his work in Sri Lanka. On May 19, 1880, he and Helena Blavatsky took the Five Precepts at the Wijayananda Vihāraya near Galle on May 19, 1880. On that day, the two were formally acknowledged as Buddhists. During his time in Sri Lanka, Olcott strove to revive Buddhism, while compiling the tenets of Buddhism for the education of Westerners. It was during this period that he published the Buddhist Catechism.3 The Theosophical Society, under Olcott’s direction, built several Buddhist schools in Sri Lanka, most conspicuously Dharmarāja College in Kandy, Ananda College in Colombo, Maliyadēva College in Kurunegala, and Mahinda College in Galle. He was a key revivalist of Buddhism, and Sri Lankans still honor him for his labors. Many Sri Lankans consider him to be among their heroes in their struggle for independence and a pioneer of the present religious, nationalist, and cultural resurgence. More ardent devotees have claimed that Olcott was a bodhisattva.4 The Buddhist revivalist movement kindled by Olcott and other pioneers, such as Anagarike Dharmapala, led to the intense recognition that unless people awoke from their apathy, the heritage of the Dharma would be lost forever. The tumult was felt everywhere, but the struggle was tough, protracted, and slow. Dharmapala eloquently summed up the feeling of many of the revivalists toward their condescending and overbearing colonial overlords: This bright, beautiful island was made into a Paradise by the Aryan Sinhalese before its destruction was brought about by the barbaric vandals. Its people did not know irreligion… Christianity and polytheism [i.e., Hinduism] are responsible for the vulgar practices of killing animals, stealing, prostitution, licentiousness, lying and drunkenness… The ancient, historic, refined people, under the diabolism of vicious paganism, introduced by the British administrators, are now declining slowly away.5

From British hegemony to the modern era  105

Independence and the modern era As they had in India, the British colonialists created the requisite atmosphere for the tragedy that is today modern Sri Lanka. During their withdrawal from India, the British arrogantly determined the need to partition the nation into two to address what they viewed as the needs of the Muslim population.6 Thus, Pakistan was born. In Sri Lanka, they created the roots of future calamity in a different manner, but the end results have been surpassingly similar. In 1947, elections for the first independent government of Lanka were held. Lanka gained full independence on February 4, 1948, and Don Stephen Senanayake took office as the country’s first prime minister. Before Lanka’s independence, he had brought together the leaders of various communities and interests to create the United National Party (UNP). The UNP walked away with the 1947 elections. Its principal ideology was that of secular, liberal, pro-Western style governance. It strongly favored economic progress through capitalist doctrines. Reemerging as an independent country in the post-World War II era along with most of the British colonies, Sri Lanka seemed destined to be one of the countries that would achieve economic and political stability most readily. Indeed, at the time, Singapore sent emissaries to Sri Lanka to research governmental policies with the hope of following the Sri Lankan course that seemed to be steering a steady course through the troubled waters of multiethnic, multicultural statehood. Left unanswered were the numerous social and political problems fashioned by the colonial government, especially the issue of large numbers of Tamil indentured servants from India brought to work on British plantations in Sri Lanka.7 These high expectations were, however, short-lived. Immediately following independence, the UNP government moved to deprive the plantation Tamils of their citizenship and then the vote. Even though the leftist opposition and other Sinhala parliamentarians were wary of the measures, the Tamil Congress leadership was induced to support the legislation. This situation was akin to that expressed in Gautam Ghosh’s work by Hamza Alavi who “cites a contemporary Sindhi leader saying, ‘Hand them [the Mohajirs] over to the United Nations High Commissioner for Refugees’” referring to the fact that he did not welcome the migration of his co-religionists to Pakistan.8 The majority of the Sinhala, and a good many Sri Lankan Tamils, did not view the Indian Tamils whom the British had imported to work on the plantations as legitimate citizens of an independent Sri Lanka. The rift in the Tamil minority was rife for exploitation. The 1956 elections elevated the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) and its leftist allies to power, and Solomon Bandaranaike headed a coalition government called the People’s United Front (MEP). The new SLFP-led government enacted numerous nationalist and socialist reforms. Sri Lanka assumed a neutral, nonaligned position in international affairs, and many private industries were nationalized. The government’s new policies, which strongly

106  From British hegemony to the modern era supported Sinhala and Buddhist cultural superiority, exacerbated hostile ethnic relations. As Menon and Bhasin pointed out, “the rise of religious or cultural nationalism in all countries of South Asia is a cause for concern” and this instance would prove no exception.9 In 1958, the government passed the Official Language Act, which made Sinhala the sole official language. The law provoked widespread opposition in the Tamil community. Represented in parliament by the Federal Party, the Tamils began a struggle to secure equal status for the Tamil language. Still more radical, Tamil secessionist organizations sprang up at the time.10 In September 1959, amidst an atmosphere of communal unrest, a terrorist in the guise of a Buddhist monk assassinated Prime Minister Bandaranaike. His widow, Sirimavo Bandaranaike, succeeded him as the leader of the SLFP. The 1960 elections solidified the SLFP in power, and Mrs. Bandaranaike became prime minister of Ceylon, and the first female prime minister in the world.11 Mrs. Bandaranaike intensified the SLFP’s socialist reforms and promoted an even stronger pro-Buddhist policy. The use of Sinhala as the official language of government and the courts was implemented speedily. Representatives of the Tamils led mass demonstrations against the government’s policies. To cope with the situation, a state of emergency was declared and severe restrictions were placed on the political activity of all dissident groups.12 The subsequent UNP government pursued a policy of ethnic and religious reconciliation and atonement. Many Tamil leaders were included in the government, and the Tamil language was given some official recognition. However, within a short five years, that very tolerance of pluralism was used against the government, and Mrs. Bandaranaike again became prime minister. Claiming a mandate for radical change, the new government greatly extended state control over trade and industry and once again pursued policies antagonistic toward the Tamil community. Though the mainstream Tamil politicians of the Federal Party had, prior to the 1970s, ridiculed the idea of Tamil secession, according to Rajan Hoole, the 1971 independence of Bangladesh breached a consensus that was part of the post-war world-order, at least after the Indian partition. A former colony had been split and the UN had accepted the fait accompli. [The Tamils] held a rousing commemoration of the birth of Bangladesh in the Jaffna town hall. People began to dream of India carving out a new Tamil nation in Ceylon.13 Some began turning to the ideologies of the Mukhti Bahini in East Pakistan and that of the Maoists, and began to dream of a rebellion that would set the stage for Indian intervention.14 In 1972, the government ratified a new constitution. The island changed its name from the colonial Ceylon to Sri Lanka, and changed its form of government to that of a republic. However, the Tamil community believed the constitution failed to address the concerns of minorities and elevated Buddhism to the status of the official state religion. During the mid-1970s, the Federal Party merged with other nationalist parties to form the Tamil United Liberation Front (TUFL). In 1976, the TULF passed its resolution to

From British hegemony to the modern era  107 secede and establish the state of Eelam, comprising the Northern and Eastern provinces, which they regarded as forming the Tamil “Homeland.”15 The impact of these developments on the Sinhala cannot be understated. Although an overwhelming majority in terms of the population of Sri Lanka, their nationalist ideology gave the Sinhala the perception of being a besieged minority—vanguards of the noble Aryan race with a historic obligation to preserve the island sacred to Buddhism.16 Believing themselves to be threatened by a Tamil fifth column in their own island and by droves of Tamils and other Dravidians not only in South India but also around the globe, they perceived a need to utilize the apparati of the state to marginalize and territorially outflank the minorities was a natural consequence of this ideology. The situation was aggravated by the rhetoric and provocative politics of Tamil nationalists.17 In October of 1977, the government changed the constitution to introduce a new presidential system of government. A directly elected president became the country’s most powerful official, and Prime Minister J.R. Jayewardene assumed the new office. A new constitution adopted in September incorporated the amendment. It also gave equality to the Sinhala and Tamil languages as official languages of the state. It was assumed that such conciliatory policies might win over the Tamil community. In 1982, Jayewardene won a second six-year term as president. The TULF abandoned its secessionist policies after negotiations with the government. Many Sri Lankan Tamils, however, continued to support secession. Among these secessionists were a number of guerrilla groups who used violence in pursuit of their goals. The LTTE, commonly referred to as the Tamil Tigers, emerged as the main Tamil paramilitary organization. In August 1983, amidst an upsurge of communal violence, Sinhala mobs killed a number of Tamils and destroyed Tamil properties. More than 100,000 Tamils fled as refugees to the neighboring Indian state of Tamil Nādu, the true ethnic homeland of the Tamils. The LTTE launched a guerrilla war, violently attacking Sinhala and Muslim civilians, as well as military targets and moderate Tamil politicians. The government, predictably, responded swiftly and ruthlessly. A subsequent Indian intervention aimed at quelling the violence between the LTTE and the Sri Lankan Army met with abject failure. With their withdrawal in 1990, the war resumed its previous level of intensity, and the terrorists assassinated President Ranasinghe Premadasa in May1993. A snap parliamentary election called for the following year led to the surprise victory of a new SLFP-dominated coalition, the People’s Alliance (PA). Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga became prime minister. She was the daughter of former prime ministers Solomon and Sirimavo Bandaranaike. She immediately began “unconditional” peace talks with the LTTE. In the November 1994 presidential elections, the PA selected Kumaratunga as their candidate. Yet another LTTE homicide bomber assassinated the UNP candidate, Gamini Dissanayake, just days before the election. Kumaratunga established a state of emergency and suspended the peace

108  From British hegemony to the modern era talks with the LTTE. She won the election with 62 percent of the vote and appointed her mother as prime minister. After taking office, Kumaratunga resumed peace talks with the LTTE. However, the negotiations soon fell apart, and a resumption of hostilities quickly ensued. The LTTE continued to launch guerrilla attacks on government forces in the area, while also conducting numerous homicide bombings in Colombo and other cities that resulted in many civilian casualties. This of course is in direct contrast to Trawick’s assertion that the LTTE did not target civilians.18 In late 1999, the LTTE inflicted a series of major defeats on the Sri Lankan Army and regained large portions of the North that the army had previously secured. Days before the December 1999 presidential elections, which were held almost a year ahead of schedule, Kumaratunga was injured in a LTTE homicide-bombing assassination attempt. The elections proceeded, and Kumaratunga was reelected to a second six-year term with 51 percent of the vote. In the 2000 parliamentary elections, the PA won a slim majority. Meanwhile, fierce fighting continued between government forces and the LTTE guerrillas. According to Rajan Hoole, the LTTE’s armed struggle became conditional upon the complete paralysis of civil society and the silencing, if not the complicity, of institutions such as churches and centres of learning. The Tamils are a relatively small community that is disillusioned. That is to say, they see little prospect of the conflict coming to an end even if they do not always blame it on the LTTE. The more privileged sections are all the time drifting toward the West as immigrants or refugees. To sustain its armed struggle against a casualty rate of around one to one the LTTE needs to aim its recruitment drive at the most vulnerable sections of the populace using increasingly dubious methods. This means that a large section of the recruits are children and young women from the poorer sections. It is only in a society that has been rendered inert through terror, where nationalist bravado has obliterated the conscience, that such matters can go unchallenged.19 Again, this flew in the face of Trawick’s assertions that the LTTE actively encouraged children to stay in school and served as a progressive element in the Tamil community.20 Hoole also stated that, through their extortion of money from members of the Tamil diaspora and their links with international terrorist and narcotics organizations, the LTTE has “acquired a staying power to which the consent of the people was marginal. But the demands of its brand of politics and violence imposed on Tamil society a destructive burden.”21 The LTTE launched an all-out effort to ethnically cleanse the regions under its control of its Sinhala and Muslim citizens. Wholesale massacre and more subtle intimidation of their targets were reminiscent of the oppression of the minority communities in India and Pakistan during Partition.22

From British hegemony to the modern era  109 Due to her failure to reach a peace agreement and her efforts to force through drastic changes in the constitution, Kumaratunga was faced with a possible no-confidence vote, and dissolved the legislature in October 2001, calling for new elections in December. To her immense dismay, the elections gave the UNP a majority of seats in the legislature, and Ranil Wickramasinghe, her childhood friend and political arch-nemesis, became prime minister for the second time. The UNF government immediately launched peace talks with the LTTE. Both sides honored a mutual ceasefire declared in February 2002. In September of that year, the government and the LTTE entered a new round of negotiations with the Norwegian government mediating. After illegally dissolving parliament, Kumaratunga again called for parliamentary elections in March 2004, and through ballot tampering and intimidation, the SLFP-led United People’s Freedom Alliance (UPFA) won 105 of the 225 seats. Although it lacked an absolute majority, the alliance was able to form a coalition government with a number of minor parties. Kumaratunga sought renewed peace negotiations with the LTTE. However, the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) demanded the talks would only be resumed on the basis of the LTTE’s proposal for self-rule. The LTTE threatened to resume fighting if this proposal did not form the basis for talks and that the LTTE be recognized as the sole representative of the Tamil people. This was simply an untenable position for Kumaratunga. Meanwhile, a major rift between the LTTE leadership in the North under supreme commander Velupillai Prabhakaran and the former commander of the Batticaloa regiment, known as Colonel Karuna, severely weakened the LTTE’s ability to present itself as a unified front. In fact, Karuna brought his cadres over to the government side and renounced secession. The LTTE, thus, directed a great deal of its resources toward the elimination of Karuna and his supporters. There were near daily reports from Colombo and the Batticaloa district of slayings between the two rival factions. The stage was nearly set for the final act of the Sri Lankan Civil War. However, there would be a few casting changes before the curtains opened for the scene. We will explore those in Chapter 7.

Conclusion While the period of British colonialism brought the island together as a political entity for the first time in centuries, the British administrators laid the foundations for the ethnic strife that would later blossom in the aftermath of independence. Prior to the British period, much of the struggles on the island had been between the Sinhala kingdoms and the European colonial powers. The Tamils in the north had struggled largely against the same European powers and had played rather small roles in the internecine battles between the rival Sinhala factions. However, with the import of Tamil laborers from South India to work on the British plantations in Lanka, the British introduced a new element to the

110  From British hegemony to the modern era equation. These indentured servants had no legitimate claim to citizenship on the island. Neither the Sinhala nor the Jaffna Tamils accepted them, the former because they were perceived as yet another wave of South Indian invaders, working in cahoots with the European overlords. The latter rejected them because they perceived the newcomers as their inferiors in terms of caste and socioeconomic status and because they feared being associated with them in terms of their more radical politics. This division within the Tamil population continued throughout the duration of the ethnic strife of the twentieth century and the Sri Lankan Civil War. In fact, as E. Valentine Daniel has shown, such divisions remained even among the diasporic communities in the West.23 In the years following independence, politicians of the various ethnic groups of the island found it expedient to divide the nation into client constituencies. With no colonial power left to serve as a common enemy, the politicians turned to communal politics and a redefinition of the Other, upon whom to blame their shortcomings. Rather than building a strong, unified multiethnic state along the lines of Singapore, they plunged the country into a seemingly irreversible course toward war and possible partition. Recurrent bouts of communal violence eventually led to full-blown civil war. Sinhala vied against Tamil. Tamil vied against Sinhala, one another, and Muslims. Consanguineous relationships between the Tamils of Tamil Nadu and those of Sri Lanka pulled India into the fray both directly and indirectly. For nearly three decades, the island bled. However, in the midst of such turmoil and ethnic violence, the forces of syncretism continued to work upon Sinhala Buddhism. For example, the pilgrimage site of Kataragama continued to be the most frequented on the island, by devotees of all the island’s religions. Those same forces continued to work upon Hūniyam, as we shall see in subsequent chapters.

Notes

1 Gooneratne, 5–6. 2 Dharmadasa, Language, 37. 3 L.A. Wickremeratne, 237–254. 4 Ibid., 237–254. 5 Anagarike Dharmapala, quoted in Ananda Guruge, Return to Righteousness: A Collection of Speeches, Essays and Letters of the Anagarike Dharmapala (Colombo: Ministry of Education and Cultural Affairs, 1965), 482. 6 Ghosh, 227. 7 For an in-depth study of the matter, see Patrick Peebles, The Plantation Tamils of Ceylon (New York: Leicester University Press, 2001). 8 Ghosh, 329. 9 Menon and Bhasin, 254. 10 Dr. Sudath Gunasekara, in email to Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, July 08, 2003. 11 Interviews with Dr. Sudath Gunasekara, May 2004. Dr. Gunasekara served as Secretary to the prime minister during Mrs. Bandarnaike’s later appointment and was a close confidant. 12 Jensen, 219–222. 13 Hoole, 259.

From British hegemony to the modern era  111 14 Ibid., 259. 15 Samaranāyake, 367–371. 16 Bullis, 52–53. 17 Hoole, 267–271. 18 Trawick, 368. 19 Hoole, 254. 20 Trawick, 368–369. 21 Hoole, 254. 22 Menon and Bhasin, 49. 23 E. Valentine Daniel, Charred Lullabies: Chapters in an Anthropology of Violence (Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996).

Bibliography Bullis, Douglas. The Mahavamsa: The Great Chronicle of Sri Lanka. Fremont, CA: Asian Humanities Press, 1999. Daniel, E. Valentine. Charred Lullabies: Chapters in an Anthropology of Violence. Princeton, NJ: Princeton University Press, 1996. Dharmadasa, K.N.O. Language, Religion and Ethnic Assertiveness: The Growth of Sinhalese Nationalism in Sri Lanka. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992. Ghosh, Gautam. “Outsiders at Home? The South Asian Diaspora in South Asia.” In Everyday Life in South Asia, edited by Diane P. Mines and Sarah Lamb, 326–336. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002. Gooneratne, Brendon. The Epic Struggle of the Kingdom of Kandy and Its Relevance to Modern Indo-Sri Lankan Relations. London: Argus Publications, 1995. Guruge, Ananda. Return to Righteousness: A Collection of Speeches, Essays and Letters of the Anagarike Dharmapala. Colombo: Ministry of Education and Cultural Affairs, 1965. Hoole, M.R.R. “The Tamil Secessionist Movement in Sri Lanka (Ceylon): A Case of Secession by Default?.” In Separatism: Democracy and Disintegration, edited by Metta Spencer, 253–280. Lanham, MA: Rowman & Littlefield Publishers, 1998. Jensen, Jane S. Women Political Leaders: Breaking the Highest Glass Ceiling. New York: Palgrave Macmillan, 2008. Menon, Ritu, and Kamla Bhasin. Borders & Boundaries: Women in India’s Partition. New Brunswick, NJ: Rutgers University Press, 1998. Peebles, Patrick. The Plantation Tamils of Ceylon. New York: Leicester University Press, 2001. Samaranāyake, Gāmiṇi. Political Violence in Sri Lanka, 1971–1987. New Delhi: Gyan Publishing House, 2008. Trawick, Margaret. “Interviews with High School Students in Eastern Sri Lanka.” In Everyday Life in South Asia, edited by Diane P. Mines and Sarah Lamb, 366–380. Bloomington: Indiana University Press, 2002. Wickremeratne, L.A. “An American Bodhisattva and an Irish Karmayogin: Reflections on Two European Encounters with Non-Christian Religious Cultures in the Nineteenth Century.” Journal of the American Academy of Religion 50, no. 2 (1982): 237–237.

7 The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa

A new leading actor Percy Mahendra Rājapakṣa, better known by the Sinhala version of his middle name, Mahinda, was born into a well-respected political family from the southern district of Hambantota. His father, Don Alwin “D.A.” Rājapakṣa, had served as a prominent statesman, proponent for independence from Britain, a member of Parliament, and as a Cabinet Minister of Agriculture and Land. Likewise, his uncle, D.M. Rājapakṣa, was a State Councilor for Hambantota during the 1930s. Mahinda Rājapakṣa began his education at Richmond College in Galle; then continued his studies in Colombo at Nalanda College and Thurstan College. During his college days, he landed a few cameo roles in Sinhala movies and worked as a library assistant at Vidyodaya University. After his father’s somewhat premature death in 1967, Mahinda assumed his place as the SLFP contender for Beliatta constituency. At age 24, he was elected to Parliament in 1970 as the youngest member of Parliament. Subsequently, he studied law at the Sri Lanka Law College and was admitted to the bar in November 1977. Also, in 1977, Mahinda lost his seat in Parliament in the monumental defeat of the SLFP of that year. He would not hold elected office again until his 1989 return to Parliament, during which he represented Hambantota District. In this timeframe, he emerged as a leading human rights crusader. In 1994, Chandrika Kumaratunga forged together a political umbrella group named the PA under the aegis of the SLFP. The alliance swept into power in a major shift in island politics, and Rājapakṣa was appointed Minister of Labor. He remained in this post for the next three years. Next, he served as the Minister of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources. It was rumored at the time, however, that Kumaratunga was quietly grooming Rājapakṣa to be her eventual successor should her children not choose to follow in her footsteps. In 2001, yet another election witnessed a fundamental shift in power as the UNP crushed the People’s Alliance. As a result, Rājapakṣa lost his position in the government. However, after a struggle for the post, he was appointed as leader of the opposition the following spring. He would not be in opposition long. DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-7

The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa  113 In a huge miscalculation of his political clout, Prime Minister Ranil Wickramasinghe of the UNP called a snap election in 2004 with the notion that he could increase his party’s control of Parliament. Instead, Rājapakṣa’s People’s Alliance gained a slim majority in Parliament, and Rājapakṣa was sworn in as Sri Lanka’s thirteenth prime minister on April 6, 2004. Chosen as the SLFP candidate for the 2005 presidential elections, Rājapakṣa fought a hard campaign against former Prime Minister Ranil Wickramasinghe, the leader of the UNP. Though largely considered an underdog in the contest, Rājapakṣa emerged as the victor by the difference of an estimated 190,000 votes. It appeared that the margin of error was largely the work of the LTTE’s boycott of the election and their violent coercion of Tamils to support the boycott. It was largely expected that had these Tamils voted they would have favored Wickramasinghe and his UNP party, given their more conciliatory approach to the peace process. After assuming his new office, Rājapakṣa rearranged the cabinet and assumed the defense and finance portfolios for himself. Instantly following his victory, a series of LTTE attacks pushed the country back to the brink of war. Following further LTTE provocations in the summer of 2006, the Sri Lankan army launched an all-out offensive against the terrorists. Within three years, the Sri Lankan Army had completely routed the LTTE, with the majority of the senior terrorist leaders, including Prabhakaran, dying in the final days of battle. In a country emerging from three decades of civil war, an overwhelming sense of euphoria following the defeat of a ruthless terrorist organization is undoubtedly expected and understandable. Rājapakṣa’s achievement in steering the army and the nation toward a final victory over the LTTE despite staunch international opposition brought him considerable acclaim at home. While, some found it surprising in the context of the twenty-first century to find Rājapakṣa being deified by his countrymen, just such an apotheosis occurred in the aftermath of the army’s victory. In the years following his 2005 presidential victory, Rājapakṣa’s propaganda machine began a campaign categorized by the omnipresence of military images, most of them the beaming and photogenic visage of the great leader himself, suggesting nothing less than the emergence of an embryonic personality cult. Indeed, posters declaring Rājapakṣa the new Dut ̣ugämuṇu began appearing immediately after his elevation to the presidency. On Monday, May 25, 2009, just a matter of days following the defeat of the LTTE, as Rājapakṣa’s motorcade passed slowly through Colombo, Chathuri Waidyasekara, a 20-year-old university student, pressed her head to the ground, then rose, and chanted, “Praise our king.” Nearby, dozens of other spectators followed suit, beneath giant billboards that pictured Rājapakṣa in the white robes of a Buddhist deity. Some such billboards, which seemed to materialize magically overnight on nearly every street corner, carried slogans such as “Mission Accomplished.” However, a new trend was seen as new ones began to spring up with captions along the lines of “King Mahinda Rājapakṣa: Our Savior.”

114  The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa This is in keeping with longstanding tradition. For instance, in the poetry anthology, Parakumba Siritha, written during the Kōt ̣ṭe period, there is a eulogy dedicated to King Parākramabāhu I. The poet predicted that a great leader, known as Prince Diyasēna, would be born in Sri Lanka 2,500 years after the birth of the Buddha and would be a reincarnation of Parākramabāhu the Great. He would act to preserve Buddhism and the unity of the Sinhala Kingdom. This legend about Prince Diyasēna surfaces and subsides with the times. It seems as though whenever political instability has threatened the wellbeing of the Sinhala people, they start praying for a Prince Diyasēna to deliver them from their troubles. Naturally, various leaders past and present have striven to attach this legend with their own image. Politicians such as D.S. Senanayake and Solomon Bandaranaike were referred to as Prince Diyasēna.1 Today, this legend has been revised to say that Diyasēna has come to save the Sinhala identity from extinction. In the course of the revision of the legend, Duṭugämuṇu, the king most associated with victory over the Tamil invaders of the past, has usurped the place of Parākramabāhu, and Mahinda Rājapakṣa has cultivated the notion that he is this grand deliverer. For example, state television ran advertisements several times every hour in which a woman sang, over idyllic scenes of the proletariat, that the Rājapakṣa regime had saved the nation and that Rājapakṣa deserved to be crowned king. According to Sanjana Hattotuwa, an activist with the prodemocracy Center for Policy Alternatives: The messaging has been singularly Buddhist in its nature and expression. The defeat of the LTTE is being portrayed as the establishment of one country along the lines of the Sinhala kingdoms of old times, with the deification of the President as a religious king, and the victory of the army as an event foretold in the Mahāvaṃ sa.2 This follows perfectly with our earlier examination of the apotheosis process. This point was made all the more evident as the Rājapakṣa motorcade continued along its course to his much-anticipated speech to commemorate the victory over the LTTE. “Ape deviya (Our god),” proclaimed the crowds who prostrated themselves before the president’s motorcade, as he made his way to deliver the postwar victory speech. Since the conclusion of the decades-old war, not only has the apotheosis of Rājapakṣa continued steadily, a side narrative, which demonizes all his opponents, has emerged as well. With the demise of Prabhakaran and the LTTE, newly perceived enemies have arisen from within the mainstream political apparatus. Rājapakṣa and his allies have portrayed themselves as the representatives of patriotism and veritable incarnations of the past heroes of bygone eras, and all forms of dissent have become equivalent to treason. The prime example of this is the case of General Sarath Fonseka. Once the heralded field commander, who led the Army’s victory over the LTTE, Fonseka retired from his position to challenge President Rājapakṣa in

The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa  115 the 2010 presidential election. From the moment it was revealed that he was considering such an action, the Rājapakṣa regime turned upon Fonseka, whom they had considered earlier to be one of their loyalists. No longer was he given any credit for the victory over terrorism. Now, he was accused of a litany of offenses, including accusations of improper arms sales while in office. It was even suggested that, as a United States green card holder, he was ineligible to run for the presidency. However, much of this could be written off as standard, dirty Sri Lankan politics. However, shortly after his defeat in the election, Fonseka was arrested without formal charges. He was held in custody without bail, and his position in Parliament taken away. Moreover, after months behind bars, he was tried and convicted by a kangaroo court comprised largely of political appointees, not actual judges, who were beholden to the Rājapakṣa regime. Nor was that the end of Rājapakṣa’s political misfortunes. Having removed legal barriers to his election for a third term, Rājapakṣa was certain of victory. However, his former aide, Maithripala Sirisena, defeated him in the January 2015 presidential election. Rājapakṣa spent the next four years plotting his return to power, championing his younger brother and wartime hero Gotabaya Rājapakṣa as the presidential candidate in November 2019 and paving his own path to the prime ministership shortly thereafter. However, in the campaigns from 2010 onward, Mahinda Rājapakṣa’s reputation had been tarnished by allegations of financial improprieties, the Chinese-financed vanity project at Hambantota port, nepotism, and so forth. While many supporters remained loyal to the Rājapakṣa family’s political dynasty, the luster was tarnished, and the apotheosis appears to have been aborted—for now. Still, the media and state propaganda machine have largely conspired to keep the most unseemly of the Rājapakṣas’ deeds out of the public eye, and as a result, the deification of Mahinda Rājapakṣa may well be unfinished. Indeed, he continues to wield unprecedented power. Under the current constitution, he can stand for office indefinitely. More importantly, the checks and balances against abuse of power, which were enshrined in the original constitution, have largely been removed.3 Of course, none of this should come as a surprise, as we have seen that this is a recurring phenomenon in Sinhala culture. Indeed, it only serves as the most modern example at our disposal for explaining the means by which Hūniyam and others have been deified in similar fashion and highlights the fact that apotheosis is not always a linear process—rather many bumps in the road may well occur. Moreover, such processes are known to occur following the death of a leader. The Hūniyam case and others we have explored are prime examples in the Sri Lankan context, but one could easily find similar examples in the United States, Presidents Abraham Lincoln and John Kennedy, both of whom took on larger-than-life personas following their assassinations—with Americans glorifying these leaders’ successes and largely ignoring their shortcomings.

116  The potential apotheosis of Mahinda Rājapakṣa

Conclusion Sri Lankan culture has experienced profound change in the past four decades, in part due to an intense ethnic war between the Sinhala and Tamils, urbanization of a predominantly rural-oriented culture, and a host of issues related to globalization. The latter two phenomena have had a significant impact upon the mainstream culture of Sri Lanka. Given that globalization tends to emphasize the secular aspects of culture, the village dweller who moves to the city may see religious expression as a way of rejecting globalization or retaining his/her ethnic identity in the face of the monolithic global ideal. Bringing Hūniyam into the city with them, many of the practitioners have found a means by which they can hold onto their rural identity. Furthermore, they are drawn ever closer to their deity as he is going through many of the same processes as they are moving from the countryside to the big city; interacting with those outside of their own ethnic, religious, or regional background; and competing with others for the scarce resources in their new environment. Some scholars believe the incorporation of such deities into the Buddhist pantheon is a necessity that brings freshness to the religion and provides worshipers a power to turn to who will deal with the mundane problems of everyday life that Buddha would ignore.

Notes 1 Sajitha Prematunge, “Myth of Prince Diyasena,” Sunday Observer (Sri Lanka), February 24, 2008, https://web.archive.org/web/20130204234724/http://www.sundayobserver.lk/2008/02/24/imp02.asp. 2 Doug Saunders, “Cult of Personality Grows around Sri Lanka’s leader,” The Globe and Mail (Canada), May 25, 2009, https://www.theglobeandmail.com/ news/world/cult-of-personality-grows-around-sri-lankas-leader/article1207646/. 3 Amantha Perera. “Sri Lanka: Constitutional Change Undermines Political Checks,” Global Information Network, September 15, 2010.

Bibliography Perera, Amantha. “Sri Lanka: Constitutional Change Undermines Political Checks.” Global Information Network, 15 September 2010. Prematunge, Sajitha. “Myth of Prince Diyasena.” Sunday Observer (Sri Lanka), 24 February, 2008. https://web.archive.org/web/20130204234724/http://www.sundayobserver.lk/2008/02/24/imp02.asp Saunders, Doug. “Cult of Personality Grows around Sri Lanka’s Leader.” The Globe and Mail (Canada), 25 May, 2009. https://www.theglobeandmail.com/news/world/ cult-of-personality-grows-around-sri-lankas-leader/article1207646/

8 Hūniyam as an invader

Most of the stories dealing with Hūniyam seem to be more speculative and folkloric rather than based on concrete facts. However, the evidence revealed by this study strongly suggests the introduction of his cult occurred during the Sı ̄tāwaka period. Both of the independent kings of Sı ̄tāwaka, Māyādunnē and his successor Rājasiṃ ha I, were heavily reliant upon Indian allies in the struggle against the Kōt ̣ṭe kings and their Portuguese allies. As such, it is not surprising that we see a significant influx of South Indian immigrants into the Sı̄tāwaka kingdom, and among these immigrants, we find repeated references to fakirs, sadhus, Aṇ̄ ḍis, and adventurers. While this inflow from the subcontinent was nothing new, this particular phase of such migration came at a point when the indigenous Sinhala kingdoms were faced with what appeared to be a more imminent threat from the European colonial powers. Furthermore, at the same time they were actively undermining one another in their myriad attempts at forcing an autochthonous hegemony on the island. While the Sinhala were thus distracted, the foreign elements pouring into the island from India were able to infiltrate the culture and society of the island without being assimilated in the same fashion as they had in previous cycles of migration. Indeed, in the case of Sı̄tāwaka, Hindu immigrants were able to exert tremendous influence over the royal court, to the point that they eventually won the conversion of King Rājasiṃ ha I to Śaivism. As mentioned earlier, this conversion set the king on a collision course with the saṅgha, which had long played a key role in the formation of political policy and enjoyed the favor of the monarchs’ patronage. Under Rājasiṃ ha I, the saṅgha lost all access to the king, who actively persecuted Buddhist clergy, destroyed Buddhist structures, redistributed temple properties, and burned Buddhist texts. Lankans perceived this turn of events as an hūniyam, a national catastrophe wrought largely by alien holy men and an apostate monarch. In this context, the word hūniyam conveys the idea of destruction, calamity, or a curse. We have seen that this usage of the word had a long history in Lanka, and thus, it is not surprising to see it applied to what appeared to be multiple persistent and significant threats to Sinhala society from a variety of sources: European colonialists, South Indian migrants, clashes between rival monarchs, and the supernatural. DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-8

118 Hūniyam as an invader It is my suggestion that in the throes of such tremendous social, political, and religious upheaval the Sinhala people came to believe in a deity that was the manifestation of hun̄ iyam. In doing so, I believe that they used the same systematic means of apotheosis to deify an individual, in this case, one who seemed to epitomize their notions of the malevolent immigrant forces who had, in their estimation, corrupted an otherwise worthy and admirable king.

A likely candidate In determining a likely candidate, one finds a readily available suspect in one of the characters whom I have introduced briefly in earlier chapters: Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl.1 During the reign of Rājasiṃ ha I, the king fell under the influence of this Hindu priest/astrologer/general (alias Manamperuma Mohoṭṭa ̄la,2 who after his defection to the Portuguese was also known as Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra). He hailed from the town of Vatakara, a coastal town in the Kozhikode district of Kerala, then a part of the Vijayanagara Empire that encompassed nearly the entirety of South India. Next to nothing is known about Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl’s life prior to his arrival in Lanka. However, one source indicates that he spent his youth in a Portuguese prison.3 The first we hear of him in Lanka was entering the island as a fakir or sannya ̄sin. It is this capacity, or at least under this guise, that he arrives at the Sı̄tāwaka court; however, it is not long before he abandons this lifestyle for one of greater comfort and opportunity. It was this man who supposedly convinced the king to convert to Hinduism as a path for gaining atonement for the king’s patricide. While many historians have argued against the idea that Rājasiṃ ha I had killed his father, it is important to note that his subjects apparently believed otherwise; thus, he very well could have felt just as constrained concerning a need for a public atonement as if he had, in fact, murdered his father. As mentioned earlier, this conversion was the catalyst for the King to build the Berendi Kovil. Local tradition also states that Rājasiṃ ha, again under Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu’s guidance, built the Pattinı̄ dēvālaya at Nawagamuwa, situated about 12 miles from Colombo, on the road to Avissawella, the modern name for the town of Sı̄tāwaka. This is especially relevant when one considers that Hūniyam was long associated with Pattinı̄. When Rājasiṃ ha granted a number of Buddhist properties and temples, including Samankanda, one of the most significant Buddhist religious sites on ́ the island, to the Saivites, Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl was given control over the revenues generated by that particular pilgrimage site.4 In reward for his services, Rājasiṃ ha I appointed Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu to a number of increasingly important positions at the Sı̄tāwaka Court. His earliest title appears to be Perumāl, which is a Dravidian title and was frequently bestowed by the Sinhala kings upon the higher-ranking Indian officers of the court. The honorific, as was usually the case with Sinhala titles, was placed after and not before the personal name. Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl appears to have been what Lankans refer to as an “all-rounder,” as he excelled in a

Hūniyam as an invader  119 variety of different fields. As mentioned before, he was learned in the art of astrology and in religion. One must wonder if Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu had come from a noble family of Kerala, for in addition to his skills in the spiritual arts, he was also well versed in military strategy and tactics. In fact, after Rājasiṃ ha I’s beloved mentor and tutor, Vikramasiṃ ha mudali, began to falter on the battlefield, the king gave Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl the opportunity to show his mettle in combat. He was not disappointed. Indeed, after Rājasiṃ ha lost all confidence in Vikramasiṃ ha, and executed him, he promoted Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl to the highest military office and granted him a new title, Manamperuma Mohoṭṭāla, by which he was thereafter known.5 After the king’s death, Manamperuma maintained control over the various princelings who served as king in title alone, each of whom he eventually murdered to further his own ambitions to the throne.6 While serving as commander-in-chief for one of these striplings, Manamperuma went to Chilaw to placate the populace following attacks on that town by the Kandyans.7 This won him favor with the Queen Regent, one of Rājasiṃ ha I’s sisters. That, however, would prove to be short-lived. Although he had previously married another of Rājasiṃ ha’s sisters, this was not a significant enough relationship for him to stake a legitimate claim to the throne, which most contemporary chroniclers seem to believe was his ambition. Thus, Manamperuma attempted to marry the sister of the young king, Nikapitị ye Baṇḍāra; however, the Queen Regent, who was also the grandmother of the new king, foiled his efforts. It was during this time that Manamperuma became particularly disenchanted with his situation in Sıt̄ āwaka. Despite his many victories, he felt thwarted in his ambitions. The Regent continued to resist his efforts to marry the king’s sister, and at the same time, one of his rivals had penned a number of songs mocking Manamperuma for having abandoned his former life as a holy man. Little children were singing these songs in the streets of Sıt̄ āwaka, much to the general’s agitation.8 Due in part to these frustrations, and fearing that his rivals were planning to assassinate him, Manamperuma followed the longstanding tradition of disaffected military leaders on the island who defected to the enemy, in this case the Portuguese, in the hope of gaining the upper hand over his political adversaries. After his defection to the Portuguese, he was given a royal title and a new name, Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra. The title baṇḍa ̄ra had previously been used to connote a chieftain, but had, by this point, come to signify a prince, more frequently one not born of the mahēṣi. The newly titled Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra promptly conquered most of the Sı ̄tāwaka territory for his new masters in Kōt ̣ṭe and established himself as de facto ruler over the former kingdom.9 Indeed, some scholars include him in the list of kings of Sı̄tāwaka. After routing the Sı̄tāwaka forces with the aid of the Portuguese, Jayavı̄ra Baṇḍāra killed all those who had intrigued against him at the Sı ̄tāwaka court, except Nikapit ̣iye Baṇḍāra and his grandmother, both of whom were taken as prisoners by the Portuguese.10 He appears to have taken as his own three of the former king’s wives who had escaped in the initial route of Sı̄tāwaka.11

120 Hūniyam as an invader His ascendency was stopped only by the political intrigue of the Kandyan king, Vimaladharmasūriya I. Facing the imminent invasion of Kandy at the hands of Jayavı̄ra Baṇḍāra and the Portuguese, he had forged a letter from the latter indicating that Jayavı̄ra Baṇḍāra was planning to turn against the Portuguese in return for Vimaladharmasūriya’s agreeing to give him the Sı̄tāwaka throne. The ruse worked, and the Portuguese murdered Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra. This doomed the attack on Kandy to failure, as Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra’s loyal troops switched over to the Kandyan side, and in one masterful stroke, Vimaladharmasūriya was able to capture Doña Catherina, utterly annihilate the Portuguese expedition, and rid himself of his most dangerous rival in the person of Jayavı ̄ra Baṇḍāra. It is easy to see how the man who died as Jayavı̄ra Baṇdạ r̄ a could be construed by the Sinhala as the very epitome of all that was fearful and distasteful regarding South Indian immigrants of the day. In their view, he had corrupted a king and later sought to sit on the throne himself, which deeds, as we have seen, were contrary to longstanding law and tradition. He not only represented the alien himself but also allied himself with other aliens, including the newly arrived and much feared Portuguese. He had been an astrologer and Hindu ascetic, with all the enigma of the arcane and malevolence associated with such. While this history undoubtedly makes him a prime candidate for apotheosis, it is important to turn our attention to the legends associated with Hūniyam to determine whether he truly fits the billing.

A common legend of Hūniyam According to Stanley Tambiah, Oddi Rajā, a pseudonym for Hūniyam who is described as a lustful demonic form of Viṣṇu and whom Kapferer refers to as “…the strongest manifestation of evil,”12 was born in the city of Vaḍiga in South India.13 The Queen of Vaḍiga gave birth to Oddisa kumāraya. The prince, once grown, killed his father, the Vaḍiga King, and overran the kingdom and the neighboring kingdoms. He then crossed the sea to Sri Lanka, wreaked havoc, and cannibalized the people. Finally, the Buddha himself intervened and had Oddisa bound in iron by Viṣṇu. The compassionate Buddha agreed to free him, provided Oddisa would bow to his authority. Oddisa consented and further declared that he would cure diseases and give protection to human beings.14 How then does this tale mesh with the history of Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl? It is important to note that the Nāyakkar kings of Kandy, who came to Lanka from Madurai in the South Indian Vijayanagara Empire, were also known as Vadugas to denote their North Indian origins.15 Even before the advent of the Nāyakkar dynasty in Kandy, the same term, Vadugas or Vaḍigas, was used to denote the various South Asians arriving as soldiers of fortune, ascetics, and immigrants of other varieties. As there is no known kingdom specifically named Vaḍiga, it is likely that the area referred to is that within the Vijayanagara Empire where ruled the Madurai Nāyakkars, the elder branch of the Nāyakkar dynasty. Not surprisingly, Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu

Hūniyam as an invader  121 Perumāl, who hailed from the same Empire, was referred to as a Vaḍiga in contemporary sources.16 While Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl’s personal history prior to arriving in Sı̄tāwaka is obscure, at best, we have a few points that should be considered in tying him to the tale. In terms of patricide, we have no evidence that he was guilty of such a crime or that he came from a royal family. However, as mentioned earlier, he did have an education that seemed to imply some privileged background. Furthermore, he was responsible for absolving Rājasiṃ ha I of his real or perceived patricide. Thus, through his conversion of the king, he was at least indirectly responsible for the metaphorical “cannibalization” of the Sinhala people that is associated with Rājasiṃ ha I in his power struggle with the Buddhist san ̇gha and the related destruction of holy sites and texts. Furthermore, King Vimaladharmasūriya I of Kandy, who after the fall of Sı̄tāwaka had assumed the mantle of champion of the Buddhist cause, eventually subdued him. This is, as we will see, a recurring motif in Lankan folklore of the era. This tale is dated to roughly the period associated with the fall of Sı ̄tāwaka and the ascendency of the Kandyan Kingdom. This period in the history of Sri Lanka is replete with various stories of many South Indian braggarts and interlopers frequently arriving on the island and challenging the general public for open contests to prove their prowess.

Tales of South Indian braggarts and interlopers A case in point would be the story of Galagoda Kumāri.17 A man named Dangamuwe Baṇḍāra had fallen in love with her. However, she had spurned him. In a rage, he killed her lover. Dangamuwe Baṇḍāra had trained in the martial arts in the Malayala Kingdom in South India, the very area from whence Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl hailed. To avenge the killing of her lover, Galagoda Kumāri traveled to the Malayala Kingdom to study the martial arts also. After returning to Sri Lanka, she defeated and killed her adversary, while in disguise, in a public duel in the Great Courtyard held in front of the Kandyan King. Another example of such a challenge is told of a South Indian wrestler who, during the reign of Śrı̄ Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha, challenged all comers to a bout. However, after sitting down to a meal of pittu18 with his opponent, a certain Leuke Dissawa, the bold adventurer decided to withdraw, having seen Dissawa squeeze the milk from a coconut with his bare hands and determining he would not care to find his head between the same two palms during their wrestling match. These events suggest two things. First, the frequent intrusions by such South Indians established the fact that they presumed they knew better than the locals, thus legitimating the Nāyakkar influence and their later rule over Sri Lanka. Second, the natives were suffering from an inferiority complex. They were unable to find a king from among their own people. Instead, they

122 Hūniyam as an invader were forced to import a junior branch of the Nāyakkar rulers from South India. Therefore, under these circumstances it is natural that the subjects of the Sinhalé19 viewed all that was South Indian as the standard by which to measure their own accomplishments and relished stories of the underdog native able to trump the foreign, despotic interloper.

Hūniyam as the interloper par excellence Therefore, we can safely surmise that the advent of Hūniyam to Sri Lanka was another such event that took place in the same approximate period. The reference given earlier in this chapter regarding the intervention of the Buddha and Viṣṇu when Oddisa wreaked havoc on the island must be interpreted as the clash of intrusion of South Indian power and the public support for the intercession of the Buddhist monks who represent the Buddha as protectors of the Dispensation. Numerous indicators seem to point to Hūniyam being yet another South Indian interloper. Perhaps the most obvious is a description of the demon as related by Paul Wirz, who recorded a number of Sinhala folktales in the early half of the twentieth century and refers to Hūniyam as, a “‘Tamil {who} has five tresses of hair hanging down his back’ (demala sedapolu pahak).”20 When one combines this with some of the common themes to be found in the various Hūniyam stories, such as his birthplace in the Kingdom of Vaḍiga and his black body color, which the Sinhalese even today typically associate with Dravidians, the evidence seems quite clear. When one considers the Sinhala meaning of the word Hūniyam or Sūniyam both of which mean sorcery, black magic, or disaster, his association with cobras, vipers, the size of his sword, his equine mount, 7,000yakka ̄ retinue, and the destruction and havoc attributed to him, it appears to be an obvious symbolization of the South Indian aggression that was continuously coming from the subcontinent at this period of history. While these iconographic elements are common in Indian images, they are not typical of Sinhala images, and thus, since South Indians, and not North Indians were invading the island, it must be syncretism brought by South Indians. In all the Oddisa myths, the demon asks permission either from the Buddha or from Śakra to cause disease and destruction to people to receive offerings from them. Oddisa appears to symbolize the malevolent South Indian forces that were causing violence and destruction to the people of the island. The Buddha and Śakra alternatively appear to play the role of the Kandyan king or the Buddhist saṅgha. At times, the monks also play the role of the Buddha, being the protectors of the sāsana and the Sinhala nation who advise the King as to how he should rule the country according to customs and tradition: [King Narendra Siṃ ha] as he had neither son nor daughter to succeed to the royal splendour, acting in accordance with the wishes of the monk

Hūniyam as an invader  123 [Saranankara] and the ministers [decided on] the brother of the queen who is descended from the pure royal line of Madura and who was supreme in virtue, [and] taking the vaḍiga prince’s right hand [the king] placed it on the hand of the monk Saranankara (telling him) “teach him the doctrine and get him to protect well the sāsana and the kingdom in future.”21 Often it could be the king, who himself is caught between his egoistic South Indian interests and his obligations on the other hand to the Buddhist monks, the Vaḍigas, the aristocrats, the traditions and customs and the people of Sri Lanka, who advises the intruder to get permission from the Buddhist monks for what he intends to do. Then the monks, in concert with the aristocrats, work out the reconciliation, domestication, and integration modus operandi. Finally, the Sinhala Buddhist ideology prevails over the dangers ostensibly jointly planned by the Vaḍiga king, or perhaps an apostate Sinhala king, and his South Indian relations or ministers and conspirators. Could this not be the actual sociopolitical and cultural reality that has been operating as the deciding factor behind these mythical inventions? King Śrı̄ Vēra Parākrama Narendra Siṃ ha had married two Nāyakkar consorts, and evidently, each of these marriages was followed by the influx to Kandy of a large number of their Vaḍiga kinsmen. Their exclusivism, perceived “heathenism,” and the fact that they seemed to form a power bloc above the native aristocracy provided considerable provocation. The crisis came to a head when Narendra Siṃ ha appointed a demalaku vaḍiga, “Vaḍiga Tamil” to the important administrative post of Mahā Gabada Nilame (chief of the king’s stores). A serious revolt ensued in protest against this violation of tradition, and the foreigner was killed. The king ruthlessly crushed the revolt, having enlisted the support of the Dutch. According to K.N.O. Dharmadasa: The two literary works Kirala Sande ̄s ́aya (The Message of the Lapwing) and Vaḍiga Hatana (The Tale of the Vaḍigas), both written immediately after the fall of Sri Vikrama Rajasinghe (i.e., between 1815 and 1818), set forth the sentiments against the Tamil heretics quite lucidly.22 In the Kirala Sande ̄s ́aya, reference is specifically made to Śrı̄ Vikrama Rājasiṃ ha taking wealth from the Sinhala and lavishing it upon his South Indian family and hangers-on. In this context, it is also rational to assume that the Hūniyam referred to in the legends could have been a powerful Vaḍiga personality who trespassed in Sri Lanka and started to wreak mischief and mayhem, assuming the power of the monarch whom he considered as a puppet or as his relative or at least countryman would afford him a degree of immunity. Judging by what is today happening in terms of international politics, particularly in countries like Sri Lanka, such assertiveness by a person who had close connections to the royalty is arguably not surprising. However, since the Buddhist monks

124 Hūniyam as an invader and the local aristocrats were very powerful and they had some degree of control over both the king and his subjects, it is nothing but the manifestation of the state power that has intervened here to restore order in society for the good of the people, the religion and the state in conformity to the prevailing customs at that time. The fact that the king had sworn to rule the kingdom according to the age-old customs and the traditions of the country invariably should have given legitimacy to the king’s directives not only within the strict legal sphere but also in the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon of gods and the classical ideology and paradigm of Sinhala Buddhist society enshrined in the Mahāvaṃ sa. The activation of the deep-rooted sociopolitical forces firmly embedded in any given society is what is really reflected as the underlying reality of these reactions. On the other hand, since the kings in Sı̄tāwaka and Kandy were either under the influence of South Indians or were themselves South Indians, obviously the subjects would not have dared to confront the Vaḍiga intruders, and therefore, it is only logical for the Buddhist monks and the people to have resorted to a process of reconciliation and opt for a negotiated strategy. In the process, the intruder must have been domesticated and assimilated to the local society under stipulated conditions. At the same time, it could be surmised that in view of the king’s relationship to the human intruder and also the prowess and perhaps the extraordinary skills the interloper may have displayed during his period of violence, the subjects also would have, as a compromise, accepted Hūniyam even as a supernatural being after his death. The possibility and the rationality of these series of events in domesticating Hūniyam could be justified when you look at how even local men with extraordinary prowess like Taniya Vallabāhu who was deified as Tanivalle Deviyo, and numerous others who have been defied such as those mentioned in previous chapters. Furthermore, it was quite common when deifying one of extraordinary stature for the people to deify also his servants, albeit at a lower cosmological level. Thus, if a prominent man were raised to the level of deviyo it was common for one or more of his followers, or even his protagonist, to be made into a yakkā. Perhaps this same process was at work when Rājasiṃ ha I was apotheosized as Rasin Deviyo. If so, it would not have been surprising to find Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl also transformed into a deity or demon. As mentioned previously, a variety of other South Indians migrated to the island during this period who assimilated into the Sinhala culture. Among these were the Śaivite mendicants, or Ā ṇḍi, to whom I referred earlier. This Ā ṇḍi immigration reached its climax during the reign of Rājasiṃ ha I and crossed the Sı̄tāwaka border, spilling into various and sundry locales in the Kandyan Kingdom.23 The following findings emerge from an analysis of these episodes in a broader perspective: First, it is interesting to note that all these legendary immigrants from India throughout history (from both the North and the South) have been identified as malevolent and destructive personalities who indulge in atrocities both at home and Sri Lanka. They invaded the island

Hūniyam as an invader  125 and wreaked havoc, causing innumerable problems for the natives (Vijaya, Oddi, and Hūniyam). However, they subsequently assume subordinate roles (except Vijaya), embrace Buddhism, and were assimilated and integrated into the local Sinhala Buddhist society. All core mythical figures like Hūniyam and Oddisa have killed their fathers,24 overrun their home kingdoms, and received banishment from India to Sri Lanka. Hūniyam according to Tambiah, “the conjugation of the fire of arson and the fire of lust”25 is found the most radical characterization of an intrusion from outside in its most destructive and violent forms (shades of the demonic behavior of Māgha of Kalinga and his soldier-devils mentioned earlier). In this context, it is no wonder the local people decided to treat Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl as a supernatural being after his death. Second, none of these newcomers were killed, but instead were, after suitable amendments, absorbed into the indigenous society, domesticated, and used for the good of the society leading to social advancement and making use of their new knowledge and technology. Third, through an assimilation process, or Sinhalisation, new cultural practices, rituals, and skills that accompanied the immigrants were absorbed into the local culture, significantly transforming Sinhala Buddhism. Thus, by a slow but sure process of assimilation of migrant, minority communities into the Sinhala Buddhist fabric, these groups relinquished their identity to become more acceptable to the majority. In a sense, this means that the Sinhala language and ethnicity and Buddhism were deemed superior to all others. Fourth, a central tenet is that as the aforementioned fusion was accomplished without fundamentally altering the teachings of the faith, Buddhism remained dominant in Lankan society. Fifth, in addition to the invaders, there were many other immigrants who belonged to different levels of the social strata. At the highest levels were the royal intermarriages that took place between Lanka and India, both the North and the South. This tradition was started with Vijaya and his retinue acquiring princesses from Pandu country. The same tradition continued right throughout history and finally culminated during the Kandyan Kingdom when four Nāyakkar princes succeeded to the Sinhala throne after Śrı̄ Vēra Parākrama Narendra Siṃ ha, the last of the long line of Sinhala monarchs. Despite the fact that these rulers all took Sinhala names and embraced Buddhism as their official religion, they continued to marry Indian princesses as their primary queens and practice Hindu traditions as well. In addition, only the sons born of these unions could succeed to the throne. At the second social stratification were religious dignitaries who visited the country from time to time. The most prominent was the arrival of Arahat Mahinda in the third century BCE, which introduced Buddhism to the island and transformed the entire system by laying the foundation for a new Sinhala Buddhist civilization. The arrival of Buddhaghosa (from South India) on invitation in the fifth century CE to undertake the translation of Tripitaka was the next important event.

126 Hūniyam as an invader A third category of religious men mainly composed of Śaivites mendicants had continuously flowed to the island. This phenomenon was very conspicuous during the Sı̄tāwaka and Kandyan kingdoms when a set of mendicants referred to as Ā ṇḍi were ubiquitous in the kingdoms. The influx of Ā ṇḍi reached a peak during the Sı ̄tāwaka period of Rājasiṃ ha I, to the point that the king even embraced Śaivism and donated Śrı̄ to them.26 This of course was short-lived, and the position of Buddhism as well as the state was restored by his successor. These immigrants rarely went back to India. The fourth group was of the traders, some of whom may have gone back. However, the majority who opted to stay were integrated with the local Sinhala people. Professionals were the fifth category. They included people like the Karāvas, Dura ̄vas, and Salāgamas who became completely integrated with the Sinhala community having given up all their previous connections to India. They mainly migrated in large numbers to the southwestern part of the island and settled down in the littorals. The present-day fishing folk, cinnamon peelers, and toddy tappers are the direct descendants of these immigrants. In this milieu, my argument is that Hūniyam legends boil down to the same sort of process whereby another South Indian man of prowess and extraordinary abilities had interloped into the domestic sphere of the Sı ̄tāwaka Kingdom during the reign of Rājasiṃ ha I. Furthermore, he was subsequently domesticated by the medieval Sinhala Buddhist state in accordance with the age-old tradition of assimilating and integrating all those who have invaded or come in different capacities to this country. Indeed, Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl worked feverishly for his own assimilation into Lankan society to aid in his political ambitions. The fact that he held fast to his Hindu religion is highly indicative of the fact that in this particular period it did not represent an insurmountable obstacle to his ascendency. Indeed, with the rulers of Kōt ̣ṭe and Kandy converting to Catholicism, Hinduism did not seem quite so alien in the eyes of some Lankans. In the Hūniyam legends, we see the most radical characterization of an intrusion from outside in its most destructive and violent form, the conjugation of the fire of arson and the fire of lust. The invading disease, which is born in violence, must be expelled with violence by wielding fire and smoke with the exorcism rite. Bruce Kapferer conveys this notion powerfully in his A Celebration of Demons. The legends connected with the exorcism rituals are, thus, another distinctive complex with their own center of gravity, but not thematically removed from the pre-occupation of medieval Sinhala society. In this environment, the domestication as well as deification and subsequent worshiping of Hūniyam as a cult could be seen as a natural adjustment to the prevailing sociopolitical and cultural realities of the medieval Lankan agrarian society. Domestication was the first step in integration and socialization. Subsequently, Hūniyam worship was institutionalized and reconciled

Hūniyam as an invader  127 with Buddhist practices. There appears to be no evidence of any ethnic bias or conflict thereafter in the practice of this cult.

Conclusion While it is doubtful that Hūniyam represents the apotheosis of just one individual but rather is a composite character based upon the stereotypical South Indian interloper, it appears likely that Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, the very epitome of his kind, provided the framework upon which the remaining attributes of the deity were built. The correlations between the historical incidents and locations associated with this man’s life and those associated with the deity are too striking to be otherwise. A prime example of this would be his pacification of the population of Chilaw at the behest of the Sı̄tāwaka King, and Hūniyam’s own pacification in the same location. His associations with patricide, his apparent misdeeds in his country of origin, his likely association with magic and mysticism as a former fakir or sannyāsin, and the many deeds associated with his political and military ascendency all have similarities to the Hūniyam legends that cannot be overlooked. Furthermore, he served a king, Rājasiṃ ha I, who was deified for his own deeds and misdeeds, and given that those deeds and misdeeds were just as closely associated with Arit ̣ṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl it seems quite likely that he too would have been a prime candidate for apotheosis. With the rise of the Kandyan Kingdom after the death of Rājasiṃ ha I and Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, we see a steady progression of South Indian influence, as the monarchs repetitively married Nāyakkar brides until, eventually, that South Indian dynasty supplanted the native Sinhala kings. That being the case, the resentment that the Sinhala people felt toward these foreigners was amplified by their rise to power and their rivalry with the indigenous nobility and periodically acrimonious relationship with the Buddhist saṅgha. Thus, the perceived malevolence of the interlopers was grafted onto the character of Hūniyam, until he became, for a time, the very epitome of evil as represented by a foreign devil who ravaged the island and was eventually subdued by the Buddhist clergy, much as the Nāyakkar kings were eventually forced to come to terms with the Buddhist san ̇gha to secure their positions.

Notes 1 Perumāl is a last name associated with the Chera monarchs of South India. The kingdom perished in 1102 CE, soon after the Chola king ransacked the Chera capital at Kodungallur. As a result, the last of the Cheraman Perumal, Rāma Varma Kulashekhara, moved to Kollam and ruled from there. He finally succeeded in driving away the Cholas but could not regain power due to the enmity he earned from the Brahmins. His kingdom was confined to the South of Kerala and was called Venad. The Travancore dynasty originated from the remnants of the Second Chera Dynasty. However, this would point toward one of a Vaishnavite background, and we know that Ariṭt ̣a Kivenḍu Perumāl was a Śaivite.

128 Hūniyam as an invader 2 This is a title Rājasiṃ ha I conferred upon Perumāl in return for his services. 3 Jayawardhana, 68–69. 4 The bō tree at Anurādhapura, the Sacred Tooth relic, and Śrı̄ Pāda (Samandkanda) comprise the three most sacred places in Sinhala Theravāda Buddhism. 5 Strathern, Kingship, 190. 6 Wright, 50. 7 de Queyroz, 470. 8 Pieris and Naish, 114–115. 9 de Queyroz, 472. 10 The Queen Regent died on the way to Colombo, and the young, deposed King was sent to Lisbon where, after converting to Catholicism, he died some years later while studying to be a bishop. 11 de Queyroz, 477. 12 Paul Wirz, Exorcism and the Art of Healing in Ceylon (Leiden: Brill, 1954). 13 Tambiah, 155–156. 14 Ibid. 15 Taylor, 26. 16 de Queyroz, 477. 17 Wickramasingha, 102–110. 18 This is a Sinhala food made out of rice and grated coconut. 19 This is the territory of the Sinhalese people. This name was used until 1815. 20 Wirz, 31. 21 Dharmadasa, Language, 9. 22 Dharmadasa, Language, 12. 23 Dewarāja, Kandyan Kingdom, 57. 24 Tambiah, 156. It is important to note here that there is no record anywhere to say Vijaya killed his father as Tambiah has said here. It was Sinhabāhu, Vijaya’s father, who killed his father. 25 Ibid. 26 Hastings and Selbie, 88.

Bibliography de Queyroz, Fernaõ. The Temporal and Spiritual Conquest of Ceylon, Books 1–2. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1992. Dewarāja, L.S. The Kandyan Kingdom, 1707–1760. Colombo: Lake House, 1972. Dharmadasa, K.N.O. Language, Religion and Ethnic Assertiveness: The Growth of Sinhalese Nationalism in Sri Lanka. Ann Arbor: University of Michigan Press, 1992. Hastings, James, and John A. Selbie. Encyclopaedia of Religion and Ethics. Boston, MA: Adamant Media Corp., 2005. Jayawardhana, Somapala. Siṃ hala De ̄s ́ika Vis ́vakōṣaya. Colombo: S. Goḍagē saha Sahōdarayō, 1996. Pieris, Paulus Edward, and Richard Bryant Naish. Ceylon and the Portuguese, 1505– 1658. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999. Strathern, Alan. Kingship and Conversion in Sixteenth-Century Sri Lanka: Portuguese Imperialism in a Buddhist Land. Vols. University of Cambridge Oriental Publications, no. 66. Cambridge: Cambridge University Press, 2007. Tambiah, Stanley Jeyaraja. Buddhism Betrayed?: Religion, Politics, and Violence in Sri Lanka. Chicago, IL: University of Chicago Press, 1992.

Hūniyam as an invader  129 Taylor, William. Oriental Historical Manuscripts in the Tamil Language. Vol. II. Madras: [Printed by J.C. Taylor], 1835. Wickramasingha, D.P. Magadigata Janakatha. Gangodavila, Nugegoda: Prasanna Printers, 1971. Wirz, Paul. Exorcism and the Art of Healing in Ceylon. Leiden: Brill, 1954. Wright, Arnold. Twentieth Century Impressions of Ceylon: Its History, People, Commerce, Industries, and Resources. New Delhi: Asian Educational Services, 1999.

9 Conclusion

The history of Sri Lanka is inextricably interwoven with the history and development of Buddhism. The religion continues to be the underpinning of Sri Lankan society. In this study, I have shown how despite a seemingly never-ending series of invasions from Asia and Europe, the Sinhala people have clung to their faith as a core component of their unique identity. Yet, those waves of invasion have left a profound impact upon the shape of Sinhala Buddhism. New practices and rituals have merged with archaic traditions, leading to a syncretical fusing of different elements and a form of Buddhism that addresses the needs of its adherents. While many Sinhala Buddhists believe that the Buddhist doctrine that was brought by Mahinda Mahāthera in the third century BCE is still the same one they follow today, in reality, it has been deeply influenced by other religions: the Abrahamic religions and Hindu South Indic religion introduced by invasions and migrations, as well as by other Southeast and East Asian Buddhist cultures. Thus, as we have seen, Sinhala Buddhists have long turned to an ever changing, frequently expanding host of deities to address their need for spiritual succor. While these deities are seen as inferior to the Buddha in terms of their own spiritual development, that very fact makes them eminently more accessible to humans in need. Unlike the Buddha, they are willing and able, when properly propitiated, to intervene in the lives of their devotees. Although one would expect to find Buddhist monks completely resistant to such innovations, like any other religious order the monks were dependent upon the people and the monarchy for their livelihood. As such, they were willing and able to set aside some of the more philosophical ideas of Buddhist teachings, at least for the laity, to ensure the expansion of their following and their continued relevance to their patrons. In doing so, they played an active role in the fundamental alteration of the faith as it is presented to the general public. I recall a discussion in 1999 with the Venerable Madawala “Bhante” Seelawimala Mahāthera, the founder of the American Buddhist Seminary and an instructor of Buddhism at the University of California, Berkeley. I asked the highly respected theologian why it was that modern Buddhists worship gods when many of the Buddha’s teachings seem to indicate that he did DOI: 10.4324/9781003258483-9

Conclusion  131 not believe in such deities. His answer, to paraphrase, was that people are at different stages in their journey toward Enlightenment, and as such, some still require the crutch of having a deity to turn to in their times of need. Buddhist monks, therefore, help to provide the laity with just such a support mechanism in maintaining the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology.1 Interestingly, that mechanism does not rely solely on importing deities from other religions. Indeed, many of the deities at the lower to middle levels of the cosmology are derived from earlier pre-Buddhist traditions on the island or have developed through the process of apotheosis. Naturally, this latter phenomenon has been the major focus of my study, as Hūniyam appears to have been one such deity who manifested through the process of apotheosis. Ariṭṭa Kivenḍu Perumāl, South Indian interloper whose cleverness and military prowess eventually, albeit briefly, earned him the throne of Sītāwaka, was almost undoubtedly the historical figure who was later transformed into Hūniyam. This man represented the very epitome of his kind and the correlation of his history with the legendry that developed concerning Hūniyam is too closely related to be otherwise. With the demise of the Sītāwaka Kingdom following Perumāl’s death and the subsequent ascendency of the Kandyan Kingdom, we witness the steady progression of South Indian influence. The monarchs repetitively married Nāyakkar brides until, eventually, that South Indian dynasty supplanted the native Sinhala kings. We further witness that the umbrage that the Sinhala people sensed toward these outsiders was intensified by their rise to supremacy and their enmity with the autochthonous aristocracy and intermittently discordant relationship with the Buddhist san ̇gha. Therefore, the seeming malevolence of the intruders was spliced onto the personality of Hūniyam, until he emerged as the personification of malevolence as characterized by an alien demon that ransacked the island and was in due course pacified by the Buddhist clergy, and thus, made a part of the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. The recent attempts at deifying the current Sri Lankan President, Mahinda Rājapakṣa, are illustrative of the practice of apotheosis which is very much still a part of the traditions on the island. It is also a sure indication that the decades-long civil war, which has only recently concluded, has had a significant impact upon the minds and religion of the Sri Lankan people. Thus, it is not surprising to find that Hūniyam, a deity once largely confined to rural settings, is undergoing fundamental changes in terms of his position within the Buddhist cosmology and in his geographic distribution within the country. The general disruption associated with the war forced many civilians to flee their villages for the relative safety of the larger towns and cities. With them, they brought their deities, among them, Hūniyam. As a god associated with sorcery, Hūniyam provided people in need of protection from the chaos and uncertainties of war with a powerful supernatural ally whom they could turn to for succor. In doing so, worshipers have transformed a being previously considered demonic into a more approachable and more socially acceptable

132 Conclusion deity. Perhaps most illustrative of these phenomena is the Borella Temple where Hūniyam’s syncretism is firmly on display with his association with Buddhist, Hindu, Christian, and Muslim identities and where he is more openly worshiped by practitioners of these various faiths. Furthermore, the iconography associated with Hūniyam seems to support my suppositions. Earlier imagery, depicting Hūniyam as a demon, incorporates aesthetics that Sinhala culture typically associated with Tamils, martial prowess, and the supernatural (including astrology). Transitionary iconography indicates the Sinhalization of Hūniyam. He acquires aspects that are more serene, sheds much of his weaponry, and assumes more Buddhist characteristics. In the benevolent imagery, we find a nearly completely reformed deity. Gone are the instruments of war and the appearance of the alien. In its place, we find the sannyasin, yogin, or other renunciant. Rather than a wildeyed, wicked invader, we find the image of a peaceful, benevolent protector. In this manner, the imagery follows the history of the island, as alien forces are pacified, absorbed, and assimilated into the population. Finally, the informants I interviewed, both ritual specialists and worshipers, seemed to confirm these notions. The Hūniyam they speak of is not a bloodthirsty demon. While they acknowledge that he has a dark history and may be the source of some people’s problems, they come to him for help. He is a protector. Their offerings are not those associated with demons. They are flowers, foods, incense, and precious items one would find at the shrines of any of the mainstream deities of Hinduism or Buddhism. Given that the political and economic situation in Sri Lanka remains highly unstable, it seems likely that Hūniyam, and other deities like him, will continue on his current path of progression. The need for deities who willingly, and ably, directly intervene in the lives of their supplicants remains, and thus, there is no reason to assume his development would cease. Indeed, if this proves to be the case, one would not be surprised if, at some future date, Hūniyam were to supplant some deity who currently holds a position higher in the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology. We have seen this trend with other deities such as Nātha, Patinnī, Kataragama, and so forth in the course of our examination of Sri Lankan history.

The fieldwork During my fieldwork in Sri Lanka, I came across some interesting observations. Many of these are centered upon the perplexities of conducting such research and the arbitrariness with which some informants provide scholars with the information they seek. When I met some Buddhist priests, they were not immediately willing to share their knowledge with me. However, when my father, a well-known former government official and scholar, asked them questions, the priests began to give us information and even took us to the most sacred parts of the temple, which are frequently off limits to anyone but them. On a few occasions, they even let my father take pictures of some statues that had never been previously shown to outsiders. Gender certainly

Conclusion  133 played a role in this pattern of behavior. A Buddhist priest feels uncomfortable communicating with a woman whom they have never met. Holt states in Buddha in the Crown that there is a mural of Hūniyam at Lankatilaka Temple. When I asked the workers there about this image, they said that the painting is way back on the wall and it is not safe to go there because there is a snake living in that part of the temple. However, when my father pressed them further about the image, they gave him permission to take some pictures of it. It appears that local folklore indicated there was a snake living behind the Buddha’s statue and people were afraid of going there, and for whatever reason, the priests were inclined to continue to perpetuate the notion. When I received permission to take pictures of the hidden Hūniyam, we discovered the painting was not of Hūniyam but rather Kīrthi Śrī Rājasiṃ ha (Figure 9.1). As I stated above, some priests and the dēvāla workers may feel uncomfortable communicating with female scholars. However, when I visited the Käbälläva, Aembawa Hūniyam Temple, the main priest at the temple said that they frequently get male scholars from the West, and the priest and his

Figure 9.1 Kīrthi Śrī Rājasiṃ ha at Lankatilaka. Source: (Photo by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell.)

134 Conclusion team are not very willing to share their knowledge with these scholars. Obviously, this was not then an issue of gender. The priest stated that sometimes the Western scholars are accompanied by a local university professor, and in those situations, they are more open to discuss the subject matter. The same priest said that the language barrier is another major disadvantage and they fear what the Western scholars would publish about their temple, shrine, or the work they conduct. Thus, a number of factors, including gender, nationality, language skills, and more, frequently handicap the dissemination of information. Moreover, there is at some level a felt necessity among the priests to protect their esoteric knowledge rom appropriation from outsiders. I always felt welcomed by all the people at all the temples and shrines I visited during my fieldwork excursions. It was interesting to learn of the humorous stories some priests and kapurālas had to share. These priests and kapurālas said that some Western scholars promised to send them aid to develop the buildings and some promised to send them free airline tickets, so they could visit their countries. One priest stated that a scholar wanted to buy some rare ola leaves the temple owned and offered at a very high price. When the priest said that he was not willing to sell the ola leaves, the scholar became quite belligerent. One priest told us some politicians sometimes forcefully demand the temples surrender valuable items such as paintings, columns, and many other valuable items for their personal collections. When I heard this, I started to ponder whether it was the South Indian kings who destroyed some of the Sinhala Buddhist culture or if it is still happening by means of the local politicians. Another interesting incident was at one Hūniyam temple, when the kapurāla found out that I am collecting data for my dissertation, he said that he could offer a special ritual for Hūniyam, so I will be able to gain my doctorate without any difficulties. It was a tempting offer, however, when the kapurāla told me that I would have to be there at the temple the next day at four o’clock in the morning, I decided to stay home and catch up on some much-needed sleep. Some people conceive of South Asia as a very backward part of the world. Even though I was born and lived there up to my teenage years, when I had this opportunity to return to Sri Lanka after so many years away, I experienced something quite enlightening. In Sri Lanka, many of the people living and working in temples and shrines are not from among the wealthiest of people. However, when it comes to their nature, I was so amazed to see how willingly they assisted me to gather information for my dissertation. They did so with no financial or other strings attached to their actions. Sometimes when I offered them paňḍuru money, they asked me to put the money in the temple moneybox. In a world where we frequently believe that money can buy anything, it was reassuring to see the devotion and dedication of these people. It was far more likely that who I knew and my genuine interest in their work made the secret doors open to me than how much money I, a lowly graduate student, would be able to offer them.

Conclusion  135 When I first started this project on Hūniyam, I started with hopes of finding all the many answers to the host of unanswered questions concerning deva worship in Buddhism and its development throughout the history of Sri Lanka. Ambitious? Yes. Optimistic? Of course. Naïve? Undoubtedly. Throughout the course of the study, I came across various new avenues of interest; however, some of these avenues eventually led me to dead ends. Some others opened completely new insights for me. On the positive side, some of the information I was able to gather made me delve more deeply into the subject and gave me new interests to pursue in the future, even though they proved of little worth for the current project. On the negative side, I learned I had bit off a bit more than I could chew in a project of this nature. However, that is part of one’s growth as a scholar. I show Hūniyam was a heroic, if somewhat self-serving, South Indian invader. In Sri Lanka, there are numerous deities, demons, and other supernatural beings. Among these most are viewed as either malevolent or benevolent beings, and in my future studies I would like to discern the reasons why Hūniyam is said to be both malevolent and benevolent depending upon the time of the month while others appear not to have this dual personality. I believe that the variations and different interpretations with regard to his birth/arrival are only the inventions of different authors deliberately intended to add color, glorify, and mystify the newly invented god. Given that they share the same deity, one would expect to see all the Hūniyam shrines linked with one another in terms of rituals, priesthood, common resources, and so forth. However, with the exception of the main Hūniyam temple in Käbälläva, Aembawa, many of the other Hūniyam temples are not linked to one another in any manner. This matter proved to be beyond the scope of this study, but is certainly something I would like to delve into in future research trips. This brings me to the matter of what I believe remains to be done with the topic.

Proposed future research As we all know, even if we focus for many years on a single subject for our doctorate degree, it is not possible for one person to come up with all the answers to unsolved questions regarding the topic. After spending several years studying this subject, I am relatively happy with the outcome of this study. However, I believe that there remains a great deal of work yet to be done regarding the topic. I recommend future scholars look into a few such matters. In my own future studies, I would like to re-examine Hūniyam and other similar beings in the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon. In doing so, I hope to better discern the pattern by which such beings undergo apotheosis and where they are placed in the cosmological order. I hope to arrive at a theory concerning the processes by which this apotheosis process takes place and a means of predicting the trajectory of such processes for future candidates for deification.

136 Conclusion Among all the Hūniyam shrines I visited, the Śrī Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella stands in stark contrast to its peers. The Hūniyam worshiped at this shrine is far more syncretic than he is elsewhere. Mr. Boteju, who is the main kapurāla at the shrine, believes that Hūniyam is not merely a deity of Buddhism but of Christianity, Islam, and Hinduism as well. Borella, a suburb of Colombo, has a dramatically diverse population and Mr. Boteju’s shrine, which markets itself in a distinctly twenty-first-century manner, reaches out to practitioners from these various religious communities. From the moment I entered his shrine, this unique interpretation of Hūniyam intrigued me. I believe that it is worthwhile to focus more narrowly on this particular Hūniyam shrine, Mr. Boteju, and his clients to learn more about the transformation that the deity seems to be undergoing in his newly acquired, more urban setting. It may well offer a profound insight into the future of Hūniyam on the island as he continues to grow beyond a once parochial entity into a deity who not only ascends the Sinhala Buddhist cosmology but transcends the Buddhist religion altogether and impacts the other religions of the island.

Note 1 Madawala “Bhante” Seelawimala Mahathera, conversation with Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, June 06, 1999.

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Interviews and correspondence Appuhami, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. Anuradha Senaviratne, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, DATE Kahalla, Kandy, Sri Lanka. Fathima Maharoof, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva Shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. H.A. Mallika, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva Shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. K.N.O. Dharmadasa, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, Galaha, Kandy, Sri Lanka. Kushanthi, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. Madawala “Bhante” Seelawimala Mahathera, conversation with Achala GunasekaraRockwell, June 06, 1999. Maharoof, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. Namali, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Embekke, Sri Lanka. Nimal Jayasūriya, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva Shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. Perera, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Embekke, Sri Lanka. Punchi Banda, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. P.W. Sriyani Perera, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 14, 2009, Visuddārāmaya Lunāva Shrine, Baseline Road, Colombo, Sri Lanka. Rev. Elle, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Sri Lanka. Rev. Siddhartha, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. S.S. Jayatilaka, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 17, 2009, Hūniyam dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa, Sri Lanka. Sudath Gunasekara, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, DATE Hantana, Kandy, Sri Lanka. Talata Kumari, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 13, 2009, Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella, Sri Lanka. Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, August 15, 2010, Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Aluthnuwara, Sri Lanka. W.P. Boteju, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 13, 2009, Śrı̄ Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella, Sri Lanka.

144 Bibliography W.G. Muthu Baṇḍāra, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam Dēvālaya, Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Sri Lanka. W.G. Nirmala, interview by Achala Gunasekara-Rockwell, December 15, 2009, Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya at Lunāva Śrı̄ Visuddārāmaya Temple, Lunāva, Sri Lanka. Weerkkody Patiranalage Douglas Weerakkody, interview by Achala GunasekaraRockwell, December 12, 2009, Hūniyam dēvālaya, Käbälläva, Aembawa, Sri Lanka

Index

Note: Page numbers followed by “n” refer to notes and page numbers in italics refer to illustrations Abeyasinghe, Tikiri 99n10 Aluthnuwara Hūniyam Dēvālaya 33–35 Aluwihare, Richard 11, 100n24 Anurādhapura period 11 apotheoses and Sammuti-devas 96–97 apotheosis 9–10 Appuhami 19, 39n7 Arit ̣t ̣a Kivenḍu Perumāl 62, 80, 81, 118, 118–119, 119–121, 124–126, 131 Baker, Victoria J. 11n2 Banda, Punchi 36, 41n37 Barua, Alka 12n33 Bassett, Ralph Henry 99n7 Bechert, Heinz 13n47 Beer, Roger 63n13 benevolent deity, Hūniyam: Aembawa Hūniyam Temple (clay) 61, 61; Aembawa Hūniyam Temple (painting) 60, 60; Baseline Road Temple, Colombo (clay and plaster) 56, 57, 58, 59; Belanvila Temple (bronze) 55, 55; Belanvila Temple (clay and plaster) 58, 59; Borella (bronze) 55, 56; Kandy Nātha dēvāla Temple (clay and plaster) 57, 58 Berendi Kovil 82 Beumer, Willemina G. M. 100n37 Bhasin, Kamla 106, 110n9, 111n22 bhikshus 1, 87, 91, 92 Black, Jeremy 100n36 Blaze, Louis Edmund 100n38 bodhisattva 96, 104 Boteju, W.P. 25–28, 39, 40n16, 40n18, 43, 44, 48, 60, 136 Boyd, Hugh 94 Brazier, David 12n11

British colonial period: independence and the modern era 105–109; Protestant Buddhism 104 Buddhaghosa 125 Bühnemann, Gudrun 62n2, 62n4 Bullis, Douglas 111n16 A Celebration of Demons 126 Chattopadhyaya, Sudhakar 11n4 Claus, Peter J. 39n6, 100n29 Codrington, Humphrey William 76n13, 99n18, 100n41, 100n43 Coomaraswamy, Ananda 7, 12n35, 12n37 Daniel, E. Valentine 110, 111n15 demons 7–9 de Queyroz, Fernaõ 128n7, 128n9, 128n11, 128n16 de Silva, Chandra Richard 99n9 de Silva, Rajpal Kumar 100n37 Deva and demon worship, Sri Lanka: Anurādhapura Kingdom 2; concept of apotheosis 9–10; demons 7–9; devas 4; indigenous devas 4–5; Saman 5–6; Sammuti-deva 9–10; Sinhala Buddhists 1; South Indian Buddhism 2; Theravāda Buddhism 1; Uppalavanònòa 6–7 Dewarāja, Lorna Srimathie 89, 99n15, 99n16, 99n20, 99n23, 100n28, 100n33, 128n23 Dharmadasa, K.N.O. 4, 76n27, 99n19, 100n50, 110n2, 123, 128n21, 128n22 Dharmapala, Anagarike 78, 82, 104, 110n5 Dharmasēna, Thera 68, 76n17

146 Index Diamond, Sarah 39n6, 100n29 Doniger, Wendy 11n5 D’Oyly, John 8, 13n41, 13n42 Dutch East India Company 94 Eliade, Mircea 38, 41n40 Embekke Hūniyam Dēvālaya 35–38 Ernst, Carl W. 91 Evers, Hans-Dieter 100n45 Fleisher, Seth L. 12n16 Fourth Anglo–Dutch War 94 Geiger, Wilhelm 76n10 Ghosh, Gautam 110n6, 110n8 Gombrich, Richard F. 99n14, 100n27 Gooneratne, Brendon 100n30, 110n1 Gopalakrishnan, Subramanian 100n25, 100n35 Gunasekara-Rockwell, Achala 12n13, 12n18, 12n21, 39n4, 39n7–39n12, 39n9, 40n13–40n18, 40n23, 40n24, 40n26–40n30, 41n34, 41n37, 41n38, 41n39, 63n8, 76n7, 76n9, 76n28, 110n10, 136n1 Guṇasēkara, Sudath 13n43, 99n21, 110n10, 110n11 Guṇasēkara, Bandusēna 76n9, 76n28, 99n5 Guruge, Ananda 110n5 Hastings, James 128n26 Hattotuwa, Sanjana 114 Hettiarachi, Pragnasoma 13n38 Hierophany 15 Hiriyanna, Mysore 11n7 Holt, John Clifford 11n3, 11n8, 11n9, 12n15, 12n34, 71, 76n23, 76n24, 99n17, 100n31 Hoole, M.R.R. 106, 108, 110n13, 111n17, 111n19, 111n21 Hūniyam as an invader: common legend of 120–121; as interloper par excellence 122–127; a likely candidate 118–120; South Indian braggarts and interlopers 121–122 Hūniyam in transitionary form, Borella: bronze statue 52, 52; clay and plaster statue 53, 53; mural image 53, 54, 133 iconography of Hūniyam: benevolent deity 54–62; deity in transitionary form 52–54; malevolent deity 42–52 Ismail, Marina 76n21

Jayasūriya, Nimal 21, 24, 39n10, 45 Jayatilaka, S.S. 32, 40n27 Jayawardena, Kumari 39n5 Jayawardhana, Somapala 128n3 Jensen, Jane S. 110n12 Käbälläva, Aembawa, Hūniyam Dēvālaya 31–33 Kandyan Kingdom: apotheoses and Sammuti-devas 96–97; British colonialism 97–98; Dutch colonial period 85–88; Indian immigrants 88–90; island during Kandyan Period 15; vs. Portuguese Kōt ̣ṭe 82–85; Vimaladharmasūriya II 86, 87 Kapferer, Bruce 63n6 Kirala Sandēśaya 123 Koṭt ̣agoḍa, Jayasēna 62n1 Kōt ̣t ̣e period 9, 67, 72, 73, 114 Kōt ̣t ̣e and the Portuguese versus Sītāwaka kingdom 78–81 Kōt ̣t ̣e prince apotheosis: entitlements, or sannasas 74; Mādampē Patuna 75; Mādampē region 74; Rājav̄ aliya 73 Kīrthi Śrī Rājasiṃ ha at Lankatilaka 133 Kumari, Talata 28, 40n17 Kushanthi 34, 35, 41n34 Lach, Donald Frederick 99n11 Lak Minòi Pahana 65, 76n5 Laṅkānanda, Labugama 99n22 Lankatilaka Temple 133 Lascarins 83 Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) 107–109 Lunāva Śrī Visuddārāmaya temple: Baseline Road, Colombo 21–22; Hūniyam mahā dēvālaya 18–20 Madawala “Bhante” Seelawimala Mahathera 130, 136n1 Mahānāma 12n27, 76n2, 76n10 Maharoof, Fathima 20, 21, 24, 39n9, 40n14, 40n15 Mahāvaṃ sa 13n39, 65, 68, 76n3, 76n4, 76n16, 82, 114, 124 Mahinda Rājapakṣa 112–115; achievements 113; apotheosis of 114; mission accomplished 113; people’s alliance 112; political misfortunes 115; SLFP candidate 113 Mahroof, M.M.M. 76n21 malevolent deity, Hūniyam: Aembawa (clay) 50, 51; Baseline Road Temple

Index  147 (plaster) 45, 46; Belanvila (clay) 46, 47; Belanvila, Watuka Yakkā (painting) 48, 49; Lunava (bronze) 46, 47; Lunava (metal) 49, 50; malevolent and benevolent statues 44; Nātha dēvāla (painting) 48, 49 Mallika, H.A. 23, 39n11 Mālimagē, Asōka 63n11 Menon, Ritu 106, 110n9, 111n22 Mills, Margaret Ann 39n6, 100n29, 100n44 Moragoda, Jennifer 39n5 Mukhti Bahini 106 Muthu Baṇḍāra, W.G. 29, 40n23, 40n24 Naish, Richard Bryant 99n1, 13n48, 62n3, 128n8 Namali 37, 41n39 nānumura mangalya 22–25 Nātha Dēvālaya, Kandy, Hūniyam Dēvālaya 29–30 Navaratnam, C.S. 99n6 Nāyakkar 91 Nāyakkar rule and South Indian influence 90–96 Nirmala, W.G. 20, 39n8 Nubin, Walter 76n22 Obeyesekere, Donald 65, 66, 76n1, 76n6, 76n12, 90 Obeyesekere, Gananath 63n5, 65, 66, 90, 99n14, 100n27 Parakumba Siritha 114 Paranavitana, Senarat 5, 7, 12n19, 12n23, 13n38 Parker, Henry 76n20, 99n8, 100n48 Peebles, Patrick 110n7 Perera, Amantha 100n47, 116n3 Pieris, Paulus Edward 13n48, 62n3, 99n1, 128n8 pirith 1, 70 Polonnaruwa period 1 Portuguese Kōtṭ ẹ vs. the Kandyan Kingdom 82–85 Powell, Geoffrey 100n52 Prematunge, Sajitha 116n1 Rāhula, Walpola 76n15 Rajāsimha, Wickrama 8, 118 Rājāvaliya 81 Rev. Elle 3, 12n13 Rev. Siddhartha, Dodam Pahala 16–19, 39n4, 48, 63n8

Rickmers, Christian M. 76n10 Roberts, Michael 76n25 Sabaratnam, Lakshmanan 11n6 Samaranāyake, Gāmiṇi 111n15 Saunders, Doug 116n2 Schrikker, Alicia 100n39, 100n42 Scott, David 100n46 Selbie, John A. 128n26 Senadeera, Karunaratne Gunapala 99n4 Seneviratna, Anuradha 5, 12n21, 76n7, 100n51 Silappadikaram 3 Simòha, Narendra 87, 88 Singh, Upinder 12n14 Sinhala kingdoms of Lanka: Anurādhapura period 64; apotheosis of Kōtṭ ẹ prince 73–75; conservative resistance 73; devas and demons 65; Kalinga invasion and Kālī 68–69; Kataragama 66–67; Pattin 65–66; Polọnnaruwa and Dambadeniya periods 67; power fragmentation 72–73; south Indian invasions 64–65; Tambralinga invasion and Nātha 71–72; Vathimi Baṇḍāra, syncretic demon 69–71 Sinhalisation 125 Skeen, George J.A. 40n21 Śrī Gambāra Sidha Hūniyam Mahā Dēvālaya, Borella 25–29 Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) 105–107, 109, 112, 113 Srinivas, Mysore Narasimhachar 12n24 Sriyani Perera, P.W. 23, 24, 36, 39n12, 40n13, 41n38 Sītāwaka Kingdom: hindu influence 81–82; Kōt ̣ṭe and the Portuguese vs. 78–81; Māyādunnē 78, 79 Stewart, Tony K. 91 Strathern, Alan 80, 99n2, 99n3, 128n5 Subramanian, T.S. 12n17 Suckling, Horatio John 99n13 Sutherland, Gail Hinich 12n36 Tambiah, Stanley Jeyaraja 11n10, 120, 125, 128n13, 128n24 Tamil United Liberation Front (TUFL) 106 Taylor, William 128n15 Toṭagamuvē Śrī Rāhula, Thera 13n46 Trawick, Margaret 111n18, 111n20

148 Index Treaty of Paris 95 Tsomo, Karma Lekshe 100n32 Tundeṇiya, S.M.S. 15, 39n2 van der Horst, Josine 40n22 van Eck, Lubbert Jan 93 van Kley, Edwin J. 99n11 Vanniasingham, Somasundaram 12n12 Vathimi Baṇḍāra, syncretic demon: Gale Baṇḍāra Deviyo 70; King Bhuvanaikabāhu II 69; Umma 69 Vidiye Gedara Damsiri Baṇḍāra Karunaratna 33, 40n28, 40n29, 40n30 Vimalananda, Tennakoon 13n40

Weerasooria, N.E. 100n40 Weerkkody Patiranalage Douglas Weerakkody 31, 40n26 Wickramasingha, D.P. 100n49, 128n17 Wickremeratne, Ananda 11n1, 100n26, 110n3 Wickremesekera, Channa 100n34, 100n54 Wijesekera, Nandadēva 15, 39n1 Wijesooriya, S. 76n14 Wirz, Paul 122, 128n12, 128n20 Wright, Arnold 128n6 yakaduras 15 Zimmer, Heinrich 45, 63n7