Dancing in Cambodia At Large in Burma, Amitav Ghosh
I chanced upon one of Amitav Ghosh's non-fictional writings titled, The Ghosts of Mrs. Gandhi, in the last book that I finished reading. Quite unfamiliar with Ghosh's non-fictional flair, I was immediately drawn to the text because of its literary value as well as its quotidian relevance in communally divided India. So I picked up Dancing in Cambodia to taste a little more of Ghosh's personal narration, and yes, I'm not disappointed with the ingredients that enriches the essays.
Ghosh is a writer; most importantly a scholarly writer who does a thorough background research before taking to his writing desk. The Ibis Trilogy, The Hungry Tide and The Shadow Lines are cases in point. Dancing in Cambodia, though non-fictional in its structural narrative, is not an exception in this regard. Ghosh sheds light on a fascinating new territory, delves deep into the contours of the region's history and comments on the socio-political configuration of the countries by collecting oral narratives of individuals who have experienced the tortuous path that the human civilisation has taken in their land.
Ghosh as a writer has his strategies. As a diasporic writer, he introduces his idea in a manner that prompts theoretical discussion. Take for example the behaviour of King Sisowath and her Princess when they visited France—the land of their colonial master! They appear to be 'mimic man', who are 'white but not quite'. Their desire to emulate the colonials, not only their daily lifestyle but also their structuring of statecraft, makes an interesting departure from the ideas of decolonisation, dominating the aboriginal thought-pattern of South Asia. In the first essay 'Dancing in Cambodia', Ghosh notes that revolution, in its truest form, entails sacrificing innocent blood. The Pol Plot revolution that shook the very foundation of Cambodia was a bloody affair that relegates the middle class to the fringes. Art or the traditional dance of Cambodia went a long way to maintain stability after the long drawn days of revolution. The human dimension of dance as an art form, and its emphatic role in shaping the nationalistic aspiration of the Cambodian people, is wonderfully depicted by Ghosh. He champions 'the joy of living' over the 'grief of survival' during the tormenting years of social change.
The second essay is in compliance with the first, as Ghosh unearths stories that remained embedded in the lost years of Angkor Wat. The days of Pol Plot revolution wrecked havoc in Cambodia so much so that the majority of the populace inconsolably suffered. Retrieval of dance as an art and the symbolic significance of Angkor Wat are of immense significance for Cambodia''s future endeavour in the league of nations.
In the third essay, Ghosh takes us to Burma, one of India's eastern neighbours. He focuses on Suu Kyi, the leader who took it upon herself to combat the military-dominated government of Burma. Suu Kyi's political growth, her house arrest for fifteen years and her determination in the face of institutionalised war are recorded with child-like simplicity. Moreover, the ethnic diversity of Burma that led to the demand of minority community for sovereignty and autonomy is highlighted at the last essay with reference to the struggle of Karenni.
At the same time, one understands that Ghosh nurtures a soft corner for the people of Cambodia and Burma. He is concerned with the peoples’ movements that had thwarted the authoritarian regime of both these countries. He idealizes these commonplace men and women, and he seems enthralled by the struggle that ordinary individuals took forward, making a simple man a political hero, ready to take up arms. Ghosh is not unbiased; he is opinionated. Perhaps that is the only criticism of Ghosh’s politics as a writer.