Closing the digital divide

While these observations are perfectly valid there is yet another dimension, to which attention has recently been forcefully drawn, that requires to be considered.

Unquestionably, the IT revolution is the primary driving force of globalisation. Certainly, IT has moved the world forward. But it has also divided the world into two new categories of haves and have nots. And thus to explain this contradiction a new expression—the digital divide—has emerged. This divide was initially between developed and developing countries—the North and the South. But today, the innovative minds and entrepreneurial skills of South Asia have closed that gap to a very great extent. Our people have proved not only that they have the nimble fingers that have taken our garment exports to the top of that league but the agile brains, tutored in our age-old tradition of mathematical excellence, to take them to the top of the IT league. Between the city centres with IT excellence in south Asia and those in developed countries, perhaps there is no digital divide at all. I am happy to welcome the main actors in this drama, from India, who have catapulted our region to the front-rank of IT expertise, on par with the best anywhere.

However, in South Asia, as we are all well aware, the vast majority of our people still live in rural areas. Have they been touched by the IT revolution in a manner that brings them tangible social and economic progress? Have the rural masses benefited from IT solutions? The answer is probably no.

In two recent parliamentary general elections in South Asia—in Sri Lanka and India—the people sent to all their political parties an emphatic message: while seeking the dazzling fruits of globalisation, do not forget the basic needs of us, the people. While free enterprise, the market economy, international financial aid, foreign direct investment and other manifestations of the economic climate of our time, including impressive IT achievements, undoubtedly have an important place in building the economies of our countries, it must never be forgotten that if the people at large do not enjoy the fruits of development strategies they will be driven to express their dissatisfaction in the classical manner known to democracies—by using their precious vote to chastise and drive out governments that do not respect their needs and aspirations, that betrayed their confidence and dashed the hopes they raised of a better quality of life. All our parties will have to heed this message, to listen to the voice of the people. The private sector will have to do so too.

It is now a tired cliche that the onward march of globalisation is making the world a global village. If that be so, the fruits of economic progress must be made available to each and every country, to every city and, indeed, most importantly to every village. In most of our countries the vast majority of our people still live in rural areas. We simply have to find ways and means of integrating the village in the globalisation process.

It is therefore, the responsibility not only of the Government, but the IT industry, its experts, its corporate executives to find ways and means of doing so. This needs social consciousness and responsibility, but most of all the spirit of innovation which will spur the development of appropriate IT technologies that are easily accessible, affordable and meaningful for the rural masses.

But let me dwell on another critical question. We in South Asia suffer from a deadly disease which has reached endemic proportions—no, I am not speaking at the moment of HIV/AIDS. I am speaking of a disease that is a kind of madness. It is called cricket. I have no doubt that all you distinguished gentlemen, and the ladies also, are fanatical followers of this weird game. Our devotion to this game is a visceral bond that binds us indissolubly together. When we are not playing against each other, our peoples glory in each other’s deeds—whether it be a masterful century by Sachin Tendulkar or an explosive one by Sanath Jayasuriya or whether it be Anil Kumble running through the Australian side or Muralitharan taking 16 wickets at Lords. We support each other. We rejoice in our victories and together mourn our defeats. I felt, therefore, that I should share with you some words which I wrote a month ago for a speech delivered at a dinner in London in honour of the Sri Lanka cricket team—unfortunately on the very night that they lost an important match.

‘‘Ladies and gentlemen, some historians say, I think uncharitably, that cricket is really a diabolical political strategy, disguised as a game, in fact a substitute for war, invented by the ingenious British to confuse the natives by encouraging them to fight each other instead of their imperial rulers. The world is divided into two camps—those who revel in the intricacies of cricket and those who are totally baffled by it, who cannot figure out why a group of energetic young men should spend days, often in the hot sun or bitter cold, chasing a round object across an open field, hitting it from time to time with a stick—all to the rapturous applause of thousands, now millions, of ecstatic spectators across the world. The game ahs developed a mystical language of its own that further bewilders those who are already be fuddled by its complexities.’’

In the course of my travels I have a hard time explaining to the non-cricketing world—in America, China, Europe and Russia—that a googly is not an Indian sweetmeat; that a square cut is not a choice selection of prime beef; that a cover drive is not a secluded part of the garden; that a bouncer is not a muscular janitor at a night club; that a yorker is not some exotic cocktail mixed in Yorkshire; that a leg-break is not a sinister manoeuvre designed to cripple your opponent’s limbs below the waist.

As a politician who played cricket once upon a time I venture the following comparisons between politics and cricket:

‘‘Both are games. Politicians and cricketers are superficially similar, and yet very different. Both groups are wooed by the cruel public who embrace them today and reject them tomorrow. Cricketers work hard; politicians only pretend to do so. Cricketers are disciplined; discipline is a word unknown to most politicians in any language. Cricketers risk their own limbs in the heat of honourable play; politicians encourage others to risk their limbs in pursuit of fruitless causes while they remain secure in the safety of their pavilions. Cricketers deserve the rewards they get; the people get the politicians they deserve. Cricketers retire young; politicians go on forever. Cricketers unite the country; politicians divide it. Cricketers accept the umpire’s verdict even if they disagree with it; politicians who disagree with an umpire usually get him transferred. Cricketers stick to their team through victory and defeat; politicians in a losing team cross over and join the winning team. Clearly, cricketers are the better breed.’’

I would like to close with a word of appreciation for three institutions—The Indian Express for having organised this very impressive event, John Keells Holdings for being the focal point in Colombo for this event, and our High Commissioner in India, Mangala Moonesinghe, for all that he has done to bring this event to fruition. He is also an institution. I did not get my words wrong.