M.I.A.’s show started with a bang. The sound of guns whizzed through the next song, then the next. The barrage of bullets, coupled with air raid sirens that crescendoed throughout the show, climaxed during the encore performance of “Paper Planes”—“all I want to do is BANG BANG BANG.” A sea of hands filled the air, pointing towards the stage with two fingers forward and thumbs cocked. Not peace signs, but an onslaught of guns.

Mathangi Arulpragasam, aka M.I.A., and her career are tied to political violence. Her art is born out of conflict, and on Saturday, April 12, she turned Brown’s Meehan Auditorium into a war zone. Refugees fled the dance floor—fans of the opening band, Bonnaroo favorite Umphrey’s McGee, were the lamentable victims. Mellows were harshed; one rattled concert-goer I spoke with left mid-show, complaining that the loud reports were making him “freak out.” But for the most part, jam and hip-hop/dancehall fans alike joined in the struggle together. Remember the old Western movies when the bandit shoots at the good guy’s feet? “Now dance!” An effective ploy.

After the show The Independent rendezvoused with M.I.A. on her tour bus. Still glowing with sweat and brightly colored face-paint, the Sri Lankan songstress pushed through our hard-hitting investigation about the intersection of political violence and aesthetics with an easy smile. Despite my best efforts, the militant pop star quickly disarmed my line of questioning. I began by asking her about the meaning of her mantra, “Third World Democracy,” and the similarities between her previous tour stop in Mexico and the Brown concert. With a  bewildered stare, she replied in a soft British accent, “I don’t understand your question… [uncomfortable pause]… [laughs].” She motions to her equally bemused friend at the minibar: “Cherry doesn’t get it either… Humans are humans. You’re asking me to get into it. But you’re going to have to be more specific.” 

Before my face flushed, I steadied my aim and reloaded. I asked her if she thinks global audiences are absorbing her message of Third World conflict while dancing. Does the ammo drive home her point? “When you hear the music, I think you get it subconsciously.” 

Conflict cacophony

M.I.A.’s affinity for bullet-inspired ballets could also draw inspiration from General Velupillai Prabhakaran. The charismatic leader of the Tamil rebellion in Sri Lanka, the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE),  is somewhat of an iconic muse for M.I.A.’s aesthetic, which is rife with jungle camo, tigers and cyanide tablets. In 1975, Prabhakaran was drawn into politics through radical Tamil student groups in the northern part of Sri Lanka, just as M.I.A.’s father, Arul Pragasam (the namesake of her 2005 debut album, Arular) was involved with similar groups in London’s East End. Prabhakaran, however, took the next step toward the life of a guerrilla leader when he committed his first political assassination against Alfred Duraiappah, the mayor of Jaffna. Prabhakaran squared off with the mayor in Jaffna, “the potential capital of the liberated Tamil state,” and shot him at point-blank range in the center of town in broad daylight. Prabhakaran has eluded Interpol and the Sri Lankan government for over two decades.

Since M.I.A. started making music about five years ago, she has (salt and) peppered her music with references to the Sri Lankan conflict. Songs like “Sunshowers” that hit the Internet in 2004 foregrounded previously back-page stories from the tiny island nation. At first M.I.A. was heartened by the attention she was bringing to her cause: “I feel like I started something. But even in my position I find it difficult to talk about it, you know? Before, I was really optimistic and happy about it, and actually carried the cause out to the point where I was talking about it every interview.”  She claimed that as her fan base grew from politically savvy students to mass audiences—and her coverage expanded from small publications to mass media—her message became obscured:

“I don’t think they are [learning about Sri Lanka]. Of course not. Well, if you go on YouTube and read all my comments, they will be like, ‘Where is she from? Sri Lanka?’ Well that’s kind of the most basic question. When I first put my music out, it was a lot of college kids. People in Harvard were writing about it… But now, if you read the YouTube posts five years on, people who are just getting to hear me in chicken shops and stuff… They are still like, ‘Where is she from? Is she from Spain?’ That’s been the journey.”

Though her message has been neglected in the Western world, in Sri Lanka, the land where she most wants to effect change, her records have fallen on deaf ears. M.I.A. last visited Sri Lanka in 2006 when her grandmother passed away: “When I was there, everyone was really into Reggaeton. I went down to the nail parlor, or whatever, just to see what the girls were listening to… [laughs]. It was bootleg Reggaeton coming out of Malaysia. But they were having a good time, so I was just kinda fine with it. I’m glad that they don’t have all my music everywhere and stuff. Because then it would be difficult for me to go back.”

She seemed less irked by her influence at home as long as she got to be its ambassador. M.I.A. has worked to transform the plight of the Third World, turning structural violence and poverty into dancehall beats with pop sensibilities. To this end, the Spring Weekend concert boasted a video by an eccentric Japanese artist, guerrilla-inspired wardrobe and makeup, and the Brown’s own African dance troupe, New Works. Conflict becomes an easy-to-swallow, neon-colored capsule. In hopes that LTTE rebels don’t go the way of Che Guevara shirts or keffiyeh (once legitimate symbols of Palestinian solidarity), here is a dust-up on the political situation in Sri Lanka.

Dropping Sri Lanka science

Just a decade after Sri Lanka attained independence ,ethnically charged violence erupted with increasing severity and frequency in 1958, 1977, 1981 and finally 1983. The parallel trajectories of the Tamil and Sinhalese people diverged dramatically during this time. Each step the Sinhalese nationalist government took toward discriminatory policy and systematic violence the Tamil nationalists matched by acts of separatism and insurgency. The window of opportunity to create a nation for both groups to live in equitable harmony appeared to have slammed shut. The fate of two peoples bound by history and geography to live side by side has resulted in mutual fratricide. At the beginning of this year, the government just disbanded the tatters of a weak two-year-long ceasefire agreement.

During the last 25 years of bloodshed, M.I.A. has noted reports of a severe statewide media blackout: “No one is allowed to talk, they are banned from the press. So you’ll never hear the story.”  That is why it is so important, she says, that “kids were writing their thesis about it, because no one else is doing it.”

Well it just so happened that I had a copy of my thesis, which just happens to be about the Sri Lankan conflict. Serendipitous! I casually and slyly placed the 130-page manuscript on her lap. She breezily flipped through it; “Look, you brought me 50 pages of questions when you know there’s a song on my record that says I don’t read, I just guess. I’m not about to do any reading right now.”

All right, M.I.A., you stick to your guns.

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All IKE SRISKANDARAJAH B’08 wants to do is bang bang bang and take your money.