Documenti di Didattica
Documenti di Professioni
Documenti di Cultura
Out of the counterplay of these two interests, in concealing and revealing, spring nuances and fates of
human interaction that permeate it in its entirety.
Simmel 1950: 334
Simmels oeuvre points at the lie: the secret underpinning the vitality of social interaction
(Simmel 1950). In fact his work reflects a certain universalism as he asserts that he cannot
imagine any interaction or social relation or society which are not based on this
teleologically determined non-knowledge of one another (1950: 312). Simmel considers
the play of revelation and concealment, reciprocal knowledge, secrecy, and deception to
be elementary sociological facts.I quote:[T]he ethically negative value of the lie must not
blind us to its quite positive sociological significance for the formation of certain social
relations (1950: 316). In my discussion of lying, pretence, and revelation within contemporary political relations in Sri Lanka, I explore the implications of Simmels work on the
lie. I do not intend to be blinded by negative value judgements of the lie or guided by
orientalist debates1 about civilizational fissures in terms of truth and lying. I deconstruct
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
the terminology of this debate and ground my analysis within an ethnographic contextualization and linguistic anthropological analysis of concrete speech events.
My approach fits within a wider linguistic anthropology of truth and deception
(e.g. Bailey 1991; Basso 1987; Biebuyck-Goetz 1977; Besnier 1989; 1994; Gilsenan 1976;
Goldman 1995) which pays tribute to the dazzling variety of truth and non-truths and
the rich diversity of beliefs and practices regarding truth and its manifold variations
across differing cultural contexts (Blum 2001: 254). Within linguistic anthropology,
truth is not defined by mere comparison with a familiar Judaeo-Christian paradigm,
but through ethnographic research on responsibility, evidence, sincerity, and intentionality and their link with local constructions of selves (see, e.g., Abu-Lughod 1986;
Barber 1991; Boyer 1990; Brenneis 1984; Duranti 1993; Hill & Irvine 1992). It is to this
approach that I attempt to contribute by analysing truth and pretence with reference to
Sinhalese understandings of power.
The primacy I give, in my analysis of pretence, to culture-specific notions of power
is derived from a Foucauldian understanding of power and knowledge knowledge of
a truth as a regime of truth (Foucault 1972 [1969]). However, compared to this Foucauldian framework, claims to possess truth or control over knowledge suffer a more
radical uprooting in the writings of Machiavelli2 and Nietzsche. A Nietzschean call for
a psychopathology of the truth-teller firmly grounds the analysis of the lie within a
critique of power and its abuse. For Nietzsche, lying is not typically a weapon of the
oppressed.3 Rather, it is the powerful who always lie (Nietzsche 1968 [1901]: 204). It is
such Machiavellian and Nietzschean stances which prompt me to couple a linguistic
analysis of deception and revelation to a discussion of the aesthetic of power dynamics
in contemporary Sri Lanka.
Data used in this essay were gathered during fifteen months of fieldwork (1996-8)
in Udahenagama (pseudonym), a village in the Matara district of southern Sri Lanka.
The central concerns of this wider study were the discourses on domestic and political
violence of families of the disappeared as well as NGO personnel involved in trauma
counselling. This fieldwork was carried out approximately ten years after the end of the
JVP insurgency (1987-9), in which approximately 30,000 people disappeared (see
Argenti-Pillen 2003). The community of Udahenagama suffers from low-intensity
violence linked both to the civil war of the late 1980s, as well as to the ongoing ethnic
conflict with the Tamil minority in the north and east of the island. The themes of
illusion, deception, and irony emerged in the course of my study of gossip and everyday
conversations about violence and terror.
In this article, I build my argument around descriptions of speech events collected
in multiple sites: the village of Udahenagama, the realm of civil servants and NGO
personnel in Colombo, a letter from one of my field assistants, as well as presidential
diplomacy reported in the national media. Moreover, since my primary topic was
gossip, many speech events I use were not first-hand socio-linguistic data,4 but were
recounted to me by informants. Nevertheless, speech events form the key empirical
material for this article and I analyse them below with reference to the literature on
linguistic anthropology. The key speech event I focus on is the telling of boru jokes
based on obvious pretence.5
Intolerably addicted to lying?
eighteenth-century travellers and in the ethnographic descriptions of successive generations of anthropologists, the notion of the lie is used as a descriptive tool. A few
examples from the literature written respectively in 1681, 1739, 1971, and 1990 give a
good impression of the degree to which the Sinhalese practice of lying has captured
the imagination of Western visitors and scholars alike through the centuries:
They are crafty and treacherous, not to be trusted upon any protestations: for their manner of
speaking is very smooth and courteous, insomuch that they who are unacquainted with their dispositions and manners, may easily be deceived by them. For they make no account nor conscience of
lying, neither is it any shame or disgrace to them, if they be catched in telling lies: it is so customary
(Knox 1989b [1681]: 194, added emphasis).
They do not want courage, and are men of quick parts, complaisant and insinuating in their address,
naturally grave, of an even temper, not easily moved, and when they happen to be in a passion, soon
reconciled again; they are very temperate in their diet, neat in their apparel, something nice in their
eating, and do not indulge in sleep; but though they commend industry much, like the natives of other
hot countries, they are a little inclined to laziness; they are not given to theft, but intolerably addicted
to lying, and have not much regard to what they promise; they allow their women great liberty, and are
seldom jealous; they are extremely superstitious and great observers of omens (Salmon 1739, quoted
in Senaveratne 1913: xi, added emphasis).
Truth I would hardly describe as a major value in fact affectively however much lip service is paid
to it. The very frequency in villagers conversation of the sentence Borukiyanta honda n (Lying is
bad), usually uttered with a light intonation in the context either of mild accusation of a third party
or the protestation of ones own sincerity (compare to English, To be perfectly frank ..., which
regularly precedes a lie), may be offered as evidence of the frequency of lying; while its tone suggests
that the offence is not really considered heinous. Lying is bound to be frequent in a culture much
concerned with the preservation of status (tattvaya) and dignity (nambuva) saving face (Gombrich
1971: 262-3, added emphasis).
The point is not that I found there was a greater or lesser incidence of conversational falsehood,
measured against some abstract scale of cross-cultural veracity; it is that the people of Tenna themselves assumed a high degree of lying and concealment of awkward truth in their everyday lives, so much
so that that they felt obliged to warn me about it. This does, of course, pose ethnographic problems
(Spencer 1990: 177, added emphasis).
These descriptions all evoke the notion of the lie.6 Both Gombrich and Spencer
explicitly translate boru as lie,7 and the prominence of lying within Sinhala village life
does not seem to have abated significantly despite extensive socio-political changes over
centuries of colonial and postcolonial rule. Likewise my own fieldwork was dominated
by the boru my informants told each other, and this article is a reflection of my
continuing puzzlement regarding the interpretations of this omnipresent practice.
Gilsenans seminal article on the telling of kizb in a village in north Lebanon frames
the practice of frequent lying as a leitmotif in the construction of social selves within
a social world in which status and honour are critical (1976: 194, 199). This perspective
is echoed by Gombrich, where he relates frequent lying to the prominence given in
Sinhalese culture to status and dignity (see quote above). A comparison of Gilsenans
and Gombrichs analysis might allow us to downplay the cultural specificity of frequent
lying in Lebanese or Sinhalese village life, and assert it is an essential ingredient of
everyday relations within small-scale social organization based on honour or status in
general. Such a comparative analysis echoes Simmels understanding of the implications of the lie in small groups as harmless and permissible, while within modern,
large-scale social organizations the lie has more grave consequences:
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
The main aspect of youths use of boru is revelation rather than concealment of the
deceptive nature of their statement. [I told you this but] it wasnt true! (boruvak!) is
often the climax of a joking type of interaction.12 This is a very popular form of humour
amongst youths, and it is especially used to flirt and seduce.13 The prescribed,
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
This leads me to consider how boru appear outside the immediate close-knit village
context. Obvious pretence, used for flirting, or just for fun in groups of youngsters,
takes on a life of its own within society at large. The following quote makes the link
between the youthful use of obvious pretence and the more serious and awkward
aspects of obvious pretence within the Sri Lankan state and society. The following
interaction between a soldier of the Sri Lankan armed forces and a young woman
evokes both spheres at once: youthful flirtation and state practices of deception. One of
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
In this episode, the soldiers at the road block immediately reveal the deception they
have elaborated. This passage opens up questions about the use of boru outside the
social context composed of friends and family members. In this case the interaction
could be experienced as innocent banter and the ambiguity or potentially threatening
tone of the interaction could be part of the desired aesthetic. However, given the
circumstances of a lone young woman in the dark, deserted streets of a besieged city,
the exchange borders on harassment.20 A boruva is therefore highly ambiguous,
encompassing a continuum from flirtatious pretence to aggression. Obvious pretence
includes expressions of aggression which are nevertheless somehow masked or constructed as funny post-facto by virtue of being dismissed as just boruva by the majority
of the witnesses.
The following example also retains the classical structure of a boruva: the construction of a make-believe situation and the revelation of the truth relatively soon afterwards. A young man who had just returned to Udahenagama from a trip to town
informed people at a bus stop that one of their neighbours a sick elderly member of
the community who was being treated in the town hospital had died. His newly
widowed wife therefore suffered from a big shock21 before she realized her husband
was still alive and that it had been (not-so-obvious) pretence.22 This is how I once died
as well. When I stayed out late one evening, a young man told my worried husband that
he had seen me go up a hill path into the forest to an area known to be dangerous and
that a fatal incident had occurred. Obvious pretence can thus sometimes take shapes
such as imagining death23 that bares very little resemblance to innocent banter.
Obvious pretence during rituals and the disorientation of the enemy
This brings us to the issue of how boru are used to deal with enemies. A rapid succession
of deception and revelation can be used to disorientate an opponent. The most obvious
example of deceptive pretence or rvttlak24 can be found in the large-scale cleansing
or healing rituals (tovil). In the course of the rites, offerings are made to the wild spirits
in an attempt to appease them and make them leave a possessed person. The spirits are
made to believe that they are offered a rooster and a human corpse. A ritual specialist
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
in a coffin and an effigy portraying the sick person25 are used to trick them. In a rapid
succession of offerings, spirits are led from the sick person to the rooster, the effigy, and
the ritual specialist in a coffin. In the end, both the rooster and the ritual specialist,
decoys in an elaborate sacrificial trick, survive. By this series of substitutions, the spirits
(yaksha) are deceived (yaksha rvatteno) into leaving their victim. This is the interpretation that ritual specialists (duro) gave me during the many healing rites that I
attended.
Kapferer argues that the demons are figures upon whom an enormous joke has been
played and that the entire rite is the elaborate springing of a trap (1983: 317). In other
words, the demons as tricksters are revealed as subject to the trick and, therefore,
subordinate to those whom they sought to delude (1983: 303). Cunning, craftiness, and
astuteness are mechanisms of subordination of agents who are perceived to have the
power to deceive. Kapferer also points out that the joke of the rite is fully revealed
(1983: 316). In other words, it is not about merely misleading the spirits, but also about
revealing that one has done so. A translation of ravattanava as to mislead or to trick
is thus incomplete. Ravattanava and ravattenava also refer to obvious pretence, the
revealed trick, or the public demonstration that one has the power to mislead.
Kapferer further qualifies the notion of illusion (maya) within Hindu and Buddhist
religious doctrine and theology26 in terms of its links with everyday political life. He
argues that the demonic is present in the actions of those who appear to be other than
they actually are; it is in falsity and illusion (1983: 316) and false claims to morality
(1983: 319). The demonic is not simply found in the illness of a possessed victim, or the
spirits of the Sinhala Buddhist pantheon, but resides in the passion, lust, greed, and
anger of humans in the everyday world (1983: 315-16); in those political and social
orders which appear to constrain the actions of men and women in their daily lives
(1983: 316, added emphasis).27 Ritual specialists or exorcists are particularly well placed
to draw attention to falsity, and the illusory, in the everyday social order to point to
the demonic, destructive, false and oppressive character of its controlling agents
(1983: 317). Ritual practice highlights the illusory action of the powerful within the
everyday social order, as one possible reality amongst others, which can be addressed by
exorcists. Within this popular understanding, both spirits and the powerful have the
power to deceive (ravattanava), and such illusions can be challenged by ritual specialists
or exorcists by means of obvious pretence. I would like to highlight that such a
consideration of falsity and illusion does not necessarily imply a static projection of
falsity onto spirits or powerful elites. I propose a reverse translation of falsity and
illusion (1983: 316) back into ravattanava: a key concept of a culture-specific aesthetic
of power deployed both by spirits and by the powerful.
Mechanisms of subordination, based on obvious pretence, also play a role in everyday
interaction, and are not necessarily contained within the realm of ritual purification of
social ills or Sinhala Buddhist religious practice. The moment of revelation of a boruva,
apart from its hilarity, is also a moment of subordination. Ones superiority is confirmed by the power to deceive without having to hide it, or fear its consequences. This
everyday dimension of ravattanava first dawned on me when conversing with certain
civil servants, customs officers,28 or personnel of non-governmental organizations in
the capital Colombo. The overt revelation of the boruva character of a statement often
gave interactions a surreal and baffling tone. I particularly bear in mind examples which
stand out not so much because of their deceptive nature, but because of the prominence
given to the element of revelation or overt contradiction of obvious facts.29
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
I would certainly not describe these interactive styles with the Western notion of the
lie, as they are not predominantly made to conceal a truth, or to propose a falsehood as
truth, but are, on the contrary, orientated towards revealing and accentuating the
liberty and the power to deceive. In other words, they are acts of subordination in
which the revelation of pretence is essential to its efficacy. In these cases, revelation of
the boruva is therefore inherent within the statement and immediate, as opposed to the
delay characteristic of the more humorous or flirtatious types of pretence of village
youths.
The boruva ethos and the spirit of international relations
However, approximately a year later, after heavy investment by the US authorities, the
project was reported to be cancelled. It was within this context that the media discourse
about the following personal communication between MA and CK emerged:
MA: This enterprise was a sign of the solid partnerships between American and Sri Lankan private
sectors as well as our government ... While I understand your desire for fiscal caution, I urge you to
proceed with this high-profile project. Failure to follow through now with a comprehensive reconstruction project will inevitably raise questions among foreign investors and governments regarding
Sri Lankas commitment to building a strong economic future. This will slow Sri Lankas drive to
become an important economic centre in the region ...
CK: ... I would however like to raise the essential issues which have rendered it difficult for the
government of Sri Lanka to accept the proposal put forward by the private company, Evans International. Evans International arrived in Sri Lanka with an unsolicited proposal to design, construct and
arrange the finances of the rehabilitation project in the Fort District of Colombo (Suranimala 1997,
added emphasis).
Reportedly, by means of the deployment of immediately revealed non-truth, CK virtually enraged the US government while in fact the president could have chosen to
conceal rather than reveal her power to deceive.30 What is constructed within this media
discourse is an image of obvious pretence in the negotiation of power relations
between the Sri Lankan nation-state and a globalized US-dominated market. It is not
my intention to pass judgement regarding the truth-value of this diplomatic exchange.
I merely point at the boruva ethos pervading either a media discourse about this
exchange within the Sri Lankan national press or the exchange itself.
When the relatively powerless perform a boruva towards superiors it is much trickier to
reveal this power to deceive. Then the boruva takes on the form of what non-Sinhalese
at first sight would understand as deception, concealment of the truth, or lies. Far
from being only a straightforward form of deceit or a self-interested attempt to gain
some advantage, however, this form of boruva is also used to avoid conflict, and to
please and appease the powerful. In such cases boru become the lubricant for relations
that might otherwise be strained.31
This strategy is used not only to prevent conflict, but also to interpret past conflicts.
In view of the delay that is acceptable between a boruva and the revelation of a truth,
past statements can be retroactively redefined as boru. I vividly remember one example
which illustrates this point. A man from Udahenagama whose son had committed
suicide used this technique to defuse a serious conflict. His son had lost a large sum of
money while gambling, and had then gone home and had a row with his father. During
the heated debate the father announced that he would now be forced to sell his land in
order to pay back the debt incurred by his son. When the son heard this, he drank a
bottle of pesticide. But as the young man lay dying, always a tragically protracted
process with this form of suicide, the father argued that it had only been a boruva: he
had only pretended that he would be forced to sell his land because of his sons
gambling habit. In this way, the father attempted to refrain from taking direct responsibility for his sons suicide, and alleviate some of the shame and conflict that engulfed
the surviving family members.
Obvious pretence, far from being only a technique of domination, allows people to
speak cautiously. People can try out statements, evaluate peoples reactions to personal
opinions, and thus take their time to find out whether it is worthwhile to stand by a
particular opinion or not.32 Much like the flirtatious stories of young lovers, the statements of adults can also take on the character of bait. A type of trial-and-error
communication33 takes place in which, if it seems that a mistake has been made, a
statement can be withdrawn: It was a boruva, I didnt really mean it.
In its most innocent form, to tell boru is a strategy to get to know ones interlocutor
teasingly or rather to find out the interlocutors expectations. At the same time this
strategy sometimes helps to avoid major conflicts as it allows people to carefully explore
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
each others positions before fully committing to a particular opinion. When a conflict
is looming a quick exit is at hand: recourse to the boruva status of ones unfortunate
statement.
It would thus be incorrect to translate boru exclusively as lies, assertions of superiority, flirtatious jokes, or provocation. To claim that ones statement was a boruva also
gives people an opportunity to withdraw statements and to backtrack. Telling boru is
thus also a method of exploration not only to find out the feelings of potential lovers,
but also to draw out other peoples more hidden positions without causing offence.34
Boru allow people to detach themselves from the heat of a discussion or conflict, and to
disqualify any previous participation. Telling boru is a powerful method for nonidentification with a previous outward appearance. A widow in Udahenagama, living in
a particularly precarious situation, expressed her radical detachment and cautious
strategy of communication as follows: I have no fear. I havent done anything wrong,
so I talk with anyone. I am not indecent either. I just pretend [boru kiyano] (added
emphasis).
In the analysis of the use of boru within a close-knit local context I do not want to
evoke the notion of lying or the atmosphere of conflict, hegemony, and segregation that
accompanies concepts such as lies, concealment, and secrecy. Nor do I use the villages
social divisions (political factions, castes, and family alliances) to describe and locate
strategies of deception and concealment of truths. Rather, I understand the most
common use of boruva at the local level as a general form of conflict avoidance.
Discussion: intertwining tones
Quite distinct speech events feature in this article: flirtations, ritual negotiations with
spirits, conversations with government officials, a reported presidential diplomatic
exchange, and everyday village banter. These data obviously belong to differing speech
genres and their concomitant styles,35 but Bakhtins notion of tone is nevertheless
useful for a further analysis of this diverse material. Bakhtin defines tones36 as the least
studied aspect of speech life: tones are essentially traditional and one cannot invent
them, just as one cannot invent a language (1986: 153). Bakhtin explains: The tone is
determined not by the referential content of the utterance and not by the experiences
of the speaker, but by the relationship of the speaker to the individual personality of the
other speaker (to his rank, his importance, and so forth) (1986: 154).
The tone of obvious pretence (boru) within the different contexts I discuss evokes
two types of relationships: on the one hand a relationship of domination, aggression,
and superiority; on the other hand a relationship of accommodation, conflict avoidance, and courtship.37 Both types of relationships are evoked in each of the boru of the
differing speech communities that I discussed. In the village of Udahenagama many
instances of obvious pretence occur within the context of conflict avoidance. However,
the obvious pretence that led to false widowhood, misguided suicide, or the death
of the anthropologist obviously engenders a relationship predominantly defined by
aggression or claims to superiority. Likewise not all boru uttered within elite circles lead
to overt confrontation and the assertion of hierarchy, and boru are regularly used for
fine-tuning conversations and maintaining successful social relations.
The aesthetic of intertwining those two tones, having their base within a single
linguistic device (boru), is necessarily ambiguous. The tones literally feed off one
another, and while the two tones in different speech events can easily be distinguished,
their aesthetic maintains a unitary (and therefore ambiguous) character. The pleasure
Journal of the Royal Anthropological Institute (N.S.) 13, 313-329
Royal Anthropological Institute 2007
of obvious pretence resides in this tension between aggressive and seductive tones. The
tone of obvious pretence within flirtatious relations or situations of conflict avoidance
is not homogeneously meek or mellow. The experiential resonance of more aggressive
forms of obvious pretence provides such boru with allusions to power and domination.
Likewise the pleasure of overt power relations, and the power to deceive that is a
corollary of them, also depends on the aura of seduction, charm, and attraction which
the general category of obvious pretence denotes. The duality and ambiguity of the
practice of obvious pretence, the fact that two tones can be incorporated within one
linguistic technique (boru kiyanava or ravattanava), leads me again to a consideration
of the aesthetic of ambiguity.38 The pleasure related to this aesthetic lies in the tension
between two opposing poles aggression and seduction which are encompassed
within the single linguistic and pragmatic practice of obvious pretence. Such are the
linguistic technologies of power which imbue interdependent39 micro- and macro-level
political spheres in contemporary Sri Lanka.
This argument builds upon the notion of the illusory in Sinhala Buddhist worldviews illusion as ideology (mayam). However, I heuristically distinguish this from
illusion as an interactional style, and this article provides data to further explore this
realm of the illusory. Sinhala society at all levels evinces a subtle but elaborate feel for
illusory realities and a playful engagement with these in everyday communication. I
argue that the analysis of illusion as interactional style further documents how illusion
as ideology is experienced both during Sinhala Buddhist ritual or religious occasions
and in everyday practice. This generic power to create illusions is at once celebrated and
contained, not only by exorcists and their patients, but also in the everyday negotiation
of power relations in a variety of contexts. My argument reveals how illusion as an
ideology not only emerges from Sinhala Buddhist doctrine, or an experience of Sinhala
Buddhist ritual as deception, but how this understanding is engrained in everyday
linguistic strategies. The powerful are not only endowed with the power to invent a
particular social order, but further reveal this mastery over the illusory and the power
to deceive in the minutiae of everyday conversation.
NOTES
First of all I would like to thank the people in Udehenagama for the ways in which they both welcomed and
teased me. I am grateful for the supervision I received from Nanneke Redclift, Audrey Cantlie, Murray Last,
Bruce Kapferer, Roland Littlewood, and Buck Schieffelin during my M.Sc. and Ph.D. at University College
London. Fieldwork was funded by a UCL Graduate School Research Scholarship (1995-8) and a Harry Frank
Guggenheim Foundation Research Fellowship (1998). Further analysis and translation of material, in collaboration with my research assistant S. Akka, was made possible through a Harry Frank Guggenheim
Foundation Post-Doctoral Research fellowship (2001-2).
Since then, I have received invaluable guidance from Don Brenneis at the University of California, Santa
Cruz, and Jan Blommaert at the Institute of Education, University of London, to begin an exploratory
reading within linguistic anthropology. Teaching linguistic anthropology at UCL has doubtlessly also contributed to the development of ideas portrayed in this article.
I would especially like to thank my husband Nicolas Argenti for commenting upon this article many times,
as well as S. Akka for her keen interest in the boru we gathered. Of course, comments of the four anonymous
reviewers were extremely valuable and interesting and have made a substantial contribution to the analysis
of the material.
1
This constitutes, for example, the framework for the debate in Mullers chapter on the Truthful character
of the Hindus (1892: 34-75). Muller grapples with English public opinion and prejudice which qualifies India
as an ants nest of lies (1892: 75) and provides a multi-faceted, orientalist, civilizational view on lying and
truth:
If we are to subvert the reproduction of colonial representations in our analyses of practices of others,
we must submit the conceptual metaphors by which we work to scrupulous and critical inquiry and
one aspect of this inquiry, it seems to me, must be concerned with a genealogy of their ideological
determinations (1994: 168, added emphasis).
A consideration of the ideological determinations of the lie in terms of both colonial Christian discourses
and understandings of the lie in modern, large-scale forms of social organization (cf. Simmel 1950, quoted
above) leads me to propose a supplementary translation to the conventional translation of boruva
as lie.
11
Rvattenav can be translated as to mistake something for something else, to be tricked. This is the
involitional verbal form of the verb ravattanav: to mislead, to trick.
12
As Kolenda (1990) noted, many ethnographic analyses of joking relations (following in the footsteps of
Radcliffe-Brown 1952) do not account for the content of the humorous insults. She thus argues that there is
considerable value in the ethnographers reporting of the content of joking and not just covering it with a
single adjective like obscene which is common practice (Kolenda 1990: 142). One of such possible contents
of Udahenagama jokes goes beyond the obviously obscene: boru, or make-believe stories. Deployed in joking
relations, in rituals of insult (Kolenda 1990: 133), boru do not insult by means of obscenity but by means of
bringing to the surface the foolishness of the person who has been misled.
13
Likewise, Osella and Osella note how in Kerala the preferred form of flirting is that in which a pair try
to outwit each other by posing riddles, or by contradicting or mock insulting each other (1998: 195).
14
On joking relations between cross-cousins, see Leach (1961: 118) and Yalman (1967: 154).
15
Such a comment could be more than a simple celebration of the absurd within the context of the village
of Udahenagama. For the mothers of the teenage girls this could be a trenchant, bitter-sweet joke, as the
mortality of young women (aged 15 to 25) due to suicide in this region is the second highest in the world (see
Kearney & Miller 1985; La Vecchia, Lucchini & Levi 1994), and mothers actively worry about the risk of their
children taking their own lives.
16
Even though I am aware I was often the target of boru, I nevertheless argue this is not an isolated,
culturally neutral phenomenon reserved for the anthropologist, but fits within a wider cultural pattern of
telling jokes and orchestrating obvious pretence.
17
The bomb attack occurred in front of the Galadari hotel, in an area of central Colombo dominated by
luxury hotels, including the Hilton. The resulting crisis in the tourist industry accounted for the emergence
of hotel items on local markets.
18
Note Bakhtins description of irony as reduced laughter and a substitute for silence (1986: 148-9). Also
see Fox (1994) and Buss & Hofstetter (1983) for ethnographic analyses of irony, resistance to ethnographic
objectification, unemployment, cynicism, and powerlessness.
19
Note the use of kinship terminology that initiates this interaction (also see Joseph 1997 for a discussion
of the use of kinship terms of address in the nascent public sphere in Lebanon).
20
As one anonymous reviewer suggested, the boruva joking can be sinister primarily when people fear each
other.
21
This is a literal translation from gossip reported by a middle-aged woman living near the road.
22
However, an example from the literature reveals how the omnipresence of boru, especially on April Fools
Day (boru kiyana davasa), might have an opposite effect: In 1983 a domestic dispute led to the deliberate
burning of one house in the village on 1 April. Its owner, a carpenter, was working some miles away, and for
some time refused to be tricked into going to see his destroyed dwelling! (Spencer 1990: 206).
23
I do not want to imply that this particular form of joking is unique to Sinhalese culture. Gilsenan
describes how children rush up to other children in the street and falsely announce the death of a famous
singer in a village in north Lebanon (1976: 192).
For a further discussion of the concepts of genre and style, see, e.g., Bakhtin (1986).
For example, The world of abuse and praise (and their derivatives: flattery, toading, hypocrisy, humiliation, boorishness, caustic remarks, insinuations and so forth) (Bakhtin 1986: 154).
37
For a discussion of the role of conversational joking and teasing as a double-edged sword that both
diffuses and controls conflict and plays a role in aggression and bonding, see Boxer & Cortes-Conde (1997).
Likewise Shapiro, Baumeister & Kessler (1991) qualify teasing as an expression of status dominance and
power-orientated interaction with potential beneficial aspects.
38
Also see Argenti-Pillen (2003: 195-212), and work in progress on the aesthetics of ambiguity (ArgentiPillen 2005).
39
Qualifying this relationship as an interdependence means I do not want to portray the image of a
unidirectional flow of boru discursive strategies from essentialized versions within village communities to
wider political processes. I hereby follow the analytical pathway initiated by Kapferer (1988). In this work an
interdependence between small-scale political organization or ritual practice and macro-level politics is
highlighted, without presuming a direct historical causal connection (Kapferer 1988: xxi). I am also inspired
by Josephs (1997) work on familistic politics within the nascent Lebanese nation-state. On the basis of her
study of the use of idiomatic kinship terminology within the public sphere in Lebanon, she argues that
Western classical liberalism has presumed the universal necessity of differentiated public/private spheres for
the development of citizenship, civil society and democratic nation statehood. It has ... abnormalized and
dysfunctionalized continuities of structures, modes of operation and idioms of discourse between spheres
(1997: 74, added emphasis). She later adds: The domestic, as a purposeful fiction, polices the boundaries
of kinship, as part of a state-building project (1997: 83, added emphasis). I use the notion of interdependence to denote a porousness and fluidity of boundaries between the differing contexts in which I
encountered boru.
36
REFERENCES
Abu-Lughod, L. 1986. Veiled sentiments: honor and poetry in a Bedouin society. Berkeley: University of
California Press.
Argenti-Pillen, A. 2003. Masking terror: how women contain violence in southern Sri Lanka. Philadelphia:
Pennsylvania University Press.
2005. Euphemism and ritual ambiguity in post-war Southern Sri Lanka. Paper presented at AAA
Conference, November, Washington, DC, Executive Panel for Linguistic Anthropology: Language
weapons: representations and linguistic repercussions of violence.
Arno, A. 1990. Disentangling indirectly: the joking debate in Fijian social control. In Disentangling: conflict
discourse in Pacific societies (eds) K.A. Watson-Gegeo & G.M. White, 241-89. Stanford: University Press.
Asad, T. 1973. Two European images of non-European rule. In Anthropology and the colonial encounter (ed.)
T. Asad, 103-18. London: Ithaca Press.
Atkinson, J.M. 1984. Wrapped words: poetry and politics among the Wana of central Sulawesi, Indonesia. In
Dangerous words: language and politics in the Pacific (eds) D.L. Brenneis & F.L. Myers, 33-68. New York:
University Press.
Bailey, F.G. 1991. The prevalence of deceit. New York: Cornell University Press.
Bakhtin, M.M. 1986. Speech genres and other late essays (trans. V.W. McGee; ed. C. Emerson & M. Holquist).
Austin: University of Texas Press.
Barber, K. 1991. I could speak until tomorrow: oriki, women, and the past in a Yoruba town. Edinburgh:
University Press (International African Institute).
Basso, E. 1987. In favour of deceit: a study of tricksters in an Amazonian society. Tucson: University of Arizona
Press.
Besnier, N. 1989. Information withholding as a manipulative and collusive strategy in Nukulaelae gossip.
Language in Society 18, 315-41.
1994. The truth and other irrelevant aspects of Nukulaelae gossip. Pacific Studies 17: 3, 1-39.
Biebuyck-Goetz, B. 1977. This is the dyin truth: mechanisms of lying. Journal of the Folklore Institute 14,
73-95.
Blommaert, J. 2001. Context is/as critique. Critique of Anthropology 21, 13-32.
Blum, S.D. 2001. Truth. In Key terms in language and culture (ed.) A. Duranti, 252-6. Malden, Mass.: Blackwell.
Boxer, D. & F. Cortes-Conde 1997. From bonding to biting: conversational joking and identity display.
Journal of Pragmatics 27, 275-94.
Boyer, P. 1990. Tradition as truth and communication: a cognitive description of traditional discourse.
Cambridge: University Press.
Alexandra Argenti-Pillen is a lecturer in the Department of Anthropology at University College London. She
is the author of Masking terror: how women contain violence in southern Sri Lanka (Pennsylvania University
Press, 2003). Her key research interests concern the anthropology of political violence and linguistic
anthropology.
Department of Anthropology, University College London, 14 Taviton Street, London WC1H OBW, UK. A.ArgentiPillen@ucl.ac.uk