I opposed the war. Not on the street with a placard, but in my heart. I believed it was wrong to kill no matter how it was justified. Six thousand soldiers died in Eelam War Four, as did tens of thousands of LTTE members. The President says the civilian death toll was zero. Perhaps he was referring to the many zeroes that follow the real number. Truth be told, we really don’t know. Many. I used to feel bad about it. Whenever I caught myself smiling as I drove down formerly barricaded roads without any fear of dying in a bomb, I would remind myself about the heavy price paid in sons and daughters on both sides and the failure to resolve our differences peacefully. A year after the war, with hordes of tourists pouring into the country and hotels mushrooming in former war zones, I’m smiling all the time, drunk on victory, but I’ve forgotten that when I smile, I reveal bloody teeth.
Has the war really ended? Or will it be like the Great War, the war to end all wars, later renamed World War One because it created the conditions for World War Two a decade later. Now that we’ve won, are we going to forget why we fought in the first place? The vast majority of the country thinks the war over for good, the dispute settled, and any attempt to rekindle it should be sorted out in the most effective way available to us: overwhelming military force. Since independence, large-scale military force has been used three times internally (we have yet to fight an external invader, which theoretically is the reason for a military): the 1971 JVP insurgency, the 1989 JVP insurgency, and the Eelam Wars. One would think that the sheer brutality of these three should make us shy away from the military option and look to non-violent means of addressing our disagreements. But in reality, it has solidified the military option as the only effective method to deal with dissent. Even a peacenik liberal like myself has to admit that if Rohana Wijeweera had been killed in 1971, in all probability there would not have been a 1989 insurgency; and if Prabhakaran had been killed in the Vadamarachchi Operation, there would not have been an Eelam War Two, Three, and Four. With this bloodshot hindsight, ask yourself what you would do the next time a charismatic, idealistic youth with a healthy following turns violent to make himself heard: would you arrest him and talk to him about his grievances, or kill him the first chance you get? Based on our recent history, talking seems to only postpone the inevitable, so we should kill him. A more intellectual proponent of military force (Dayan Jayatilleka?) might suggest that we kill him first, and then talk to his followers. Either way, the lessons learnt seem to be that the best way to avoid the wanton destruction of military force is to use it early before things get messy later.
We are today a nation that wants a powerful military to stamp out the dissenters and different thinkers among us, that wants a government with a Gestapo-like ability to make dissenters disappear, and tolerates a stifling control of our information. We believe that the alternative, ironically, is war. Even more ironic, any politician that offers liberal values and less oppressive governance is viewed as a sell-out to international imperialism, and a traitor to the nation. As proof for this argument, they can always point to Ranil Wickremasinghe’s liberal, media-friendly, appeasement-heavy regime that allowed the LTTE to rearm, regroup, and launch one more war.
Was I wrong to oppose the war? Let’s rephrase the question: if I could press a button and bring all those who died in Eelam War IV back to life (assuming a round figure of about fifty thousand dead) in exchange for a still living Prabhakaran, and a still menacing LTTE, armed to the teeth, and lurking behind every corner in their suicide vests, would I do it? I’m not sure. I wish I could immediately say yes, bring those people back to life; I’ll take my chances with attempted negotiations for another decade or two with the LTTE. But I can’t. I lived it for thirty years, and I’m sick of it. I’m not saying I would order those fifty thousand to be killed to eliminate the LTTE either. I could never do it. I am a coward and a hypocrite, who gladly enjoys the fruits of another’s murderous crime, but without the stomach to commit murder myself.
Mahatma Gandhi’s and Martin Luther King Jr.’s commitment to non-violence brought real solutions to the problems they faced in their time. But I’m beginning to believe that their success was the exception and not the norm. I still think that non-violence is noble and right, but like a Christian who goes to church though he no longer believes in miracles, I have lost my faith.
And it gets worse: his administration criticized the Pakistani government for attempting to make peace with the Taliban, and pressured them to launch a massive military offensive in the Swat alley, which they obediently did. The offensive has killed thousands and displaced over two million people from their homes. President Obama has also continued to use airstrikes in Pakistan and Afghanistan, even in spite of the attacks killing thousands of civilians.
He promised a fair trial for all the inmates at the military prison in Guantanamo Bay, but backtracked on his promise shortly thereafter to much criticism from human rights groups. He has promised to close Guantanamo Bay by January next year, but the latest news is that ‘it’s going to be difficult’ to keep that promise too.
To be fair by Obama, he has improved relations with Russia and negotiated a reduction in nuclear warheads (about 30%) with President Medvedev. A laudable achievement, but warhead reductions are nothing new; there have been several nuclear disarmament treaties before, most notably the Strategic Arms Limitation Talks (SALT) that started in the late sixties. And unlike today, when we barely give nuclear war a second thought, the SALT treaties were signed at a time when nuclear war was an imminent threat.
There is of course the promise of much to come from President Obama. We have all been moved by his campaign speeches celebrating the hope for a better tomorrow, and he has continued the same rhetoric into his presidency. He has made a speech extending the hand of friendship to the Muslim world (while he considers sending more troops to Afghanistan); he has spoken often of the need for peace between Israel and Palestine (Prime Minister Ismail Haniyeh of the Palestinian National Authority says, “We are in need of actions, not sayings”); and he has acknowledged the U.S. role in climate change (though he has not yet passed any significant legislation to address it). In short, he wants to do a lot of good–he just hasn’t done it yet. Lech Walesa, former Polish President and winner of the Nobel Peace Prize in 1983 puts it best: “So soon? Too early. He has no contribution so far. He is still at an early stage. He is only beginning to act. This is probably an encouragement for him to act. Let’s see if he perseveres. Let’s give him time to act.”
Judging by his actions in Pakistan and Afghanistan, the thousands of people who have died in these countries because of his actions, and the millions of people who are homeless because of his actions, you’ll forgive me if I keep my head down.
Similar Posts:]]>Meanwhile, the Obama administration in April chastised Pakistan for its attempt to appease and negotiate peace with the Taliban. Hillary Rodham Clinton, the U.S. Secretary of State, had this to say about Pakistan’s strategy to avoid war: “I think that the Pakistani government is basically abdicating to the Taliban and to the extremists.” Pakistan finally caved in to the pressure and launched a massive offensive against the Taliban that has created a humanitarian catastrophe of monumental proportions, displacing 1.3 million people in the Swat Valley. Satisfied with the new offensive, Hillary Clinton said, “I’m actually quite impressed by the actions the Pakistani government is now taking.” State Department spokesman Robert A. Wood echoed this sentiment when he told reporters that the Pakistani offensive is a “very, very positive” development but must be sustained. So positive, in fact, that the U.S. is considering a major boost in assistance to Pakistan-$1.5 billion a year (while U.K. Foreign Minister David Milliband is blocking the SL government’s request for aid from the IMF).
Let’s add a little more history to this. The U.S. and its loyal ally, the U.K., has waged a war in Iraq, begun on the pretext of a clear and present danger from purported weapons of mass destruction, which we now know never existed. That costly expedition has cost Iraq a civilian death toll in excess of 650,000 (according to a reputed study published by British medical journal the Lancet), and has displaced in excess of 4 million civilians.
So this begs the question: why is it that when the West slaughters and displaces innocent civilians in some foreign country, it is an unfortunate sidebar to the more important war on terror, but when we Sri Lankans slaughter and displace our own people, it is somehow transformed into a violation of human rights? How could this be? Are we not equal opportunity slaughterers of civilians?
We are, as everyone knows, fighting the most deadly terrorist organization in the world, and at the same time trying to resolve the largest hostage crisis in world history. So one would assume that the world would cut us a little slack as we bowl the final over in a 30-year-old match. After all, we have only killed an estimated 6500 civilians this year, which is a mere drop of blood in the gushing artery that is Iraq, Afghanistan, and now Pakistan. And we’re doing this not in someone else’s backyard; we’re doing it in our own country, to our own people. So how dare their Western pot hoot at our Sri Lankan kettle? We may of course add a few thousand more to our death toll in the closing days of this war (you can follow the score with DBS Jeyaraj, who has been a pretty unbiased umpire), but clearly we’ve killed far fewer than they have. So we’ve got the moral high ground. Don’t we? Or could it be that we are all morally decrepit?
Maybe, the only difference between the West and us is that they’ve got more expensive soap to wash the blood off their hands.
Similar Posts:]]>India is the largest democracy in the world. They’ve got several hundred languages, they’ve got every major world religion in residence and originated four of them; they are multi-cultural and multi-ethnic, with a male Prime Minister of the minority Sikh religion and a female President. This is a kaleidoscope of people, all very proud of their individual cultures, and yet also very proud that they are one nation under one flag. This is the land held up as proof that no matter how large, how populated, and how diverse a country may be, democracy works for everyone; democracy protects everyone. So what the hell is going wrong now?
One of the terrorists spreading carnage at the Oberoi Hotel told Indian television via telephone: “Muslims in India should not be persecuted. We love this as our country but when our mothers and sisters were being killed, where was everybody? Release all the mujahedeens, and Muslims living in India should not be troubled.” What is he going on about?
In 2002, over two thousand Muslims were massacred in the state of Gujarat. It was called a spontaneous communal riot, but the weight of evidence suggests that it was a premeditated attack against the Muslims organized by local authorities and politicians. The attack was particularly severe against women, with organized rape and mutilation of women and female children-”when our mothers and sisters were being killed, where was everybody?”
The violence in Gujarat bares many resemblances to the landmark event in our own battle against terrorism: the 1983 anti-Tamil riot. It too was called a spontaneous communal riot, but as with Gujarat the weight of evidence suggested premeditated action by the then government. It is alleged that the government minister Mr Cyril Matthew organized gangs made up of the Jathika Sevaka Sangamaya to systematically target Tamil houses and businesses using voter lists which they had conveniently got access to. In Gujarat too, voter lists identified the Muslims and the chief minister Narendra Modi was accused of instigating and encouraging the attacks, and of being wilfully negligent in providing relief to the victims. The 1983 anti-Tamil riot swelled the ranks of militant groups in Sri Lanka with youth determined to exact revenge, and evidently the Gujarat riot has had the same effect in India.
Our response to 1983 was to ignore it and pretend that it was an isolated and spontaneous incident, rather than accept that there were deep-seated injustices perpetrated against the minority even prior to 1983. India did the same: investigations were sabotaged, no one was held accountable. Few saw the broader context of the problem: the ever-simmering violence in Kashmir, and the fact that the Indian economy-laudable though it is-had left out many Indians, many of whom felt that they had been systematically neglected because of their minority status.
To see what is happening in India today is to look in the rear view mirror of what we did wrong in Sri Lanka. When we suffered terrorist attacks, we blamed it on foreign interference, namely India. India does the same today: the Prime Minister in a televised message blamed a “group based outside the country”. Both countries have failed to realize that the root of the problem is not outside our shores; the problem lies within. Messages from the Indian public are scrolled continuously on NDTV, most of them blaming the government for inadequate security and calling for a severe crackdown on terrorism (as if they weren’t already trying all this time). Not one message asked the question: “what drove these Indians to do this to other Indians?”
In the interests of combating terrorism, it won’t be long before anti-terrorist squads ask Indians with Muslim names questions like:Â what are you doing out so late? Do you have a legitimate reason for walking near that hotel? How can you prove that you live in this city? If you’re not from here, what reason do you have for being in this city? It won’t be long before Indian Muslims are arrested simply for being Muslims, and asked to prove that they are not terrorists. As for the public, the great majority will applaud these actions. They’ll say it is unfortunate, but it is necessary. We know this because we have seen it all before.
One of the police officers killed by the terrorists in Mumbai was an ‘encounter specialist.’ This is a euphemism for government assassins who shoot dead alleged gangsters and terrorists without bothering to collect evidence. Our equivalent would be the ubiquitous white vans that make ‘suspected terrorists’ mysteriously disappear and keeps adding to the tally of bodies that wash ashore or turn up in ditches. How does the public know they really are terrorists? We know, and that’s all that matters-who needs evidence anyway? In India these ‘encounter specialists’ are glorified by the media and cinema as heroes. Murderer equals hero. Isn’t that the same logic used by terrorists?
So here’s a word of advice from a Sri Lankan to our big neighbour. Don’t go down the path we have taken. Don’t be tempted to sacrifice the freedom of another for your own safety. Be smarter than us. Look within and find the disease that is causing this fever called terrorism. For now, your terrorists seem to be ad hoc groups of lethal young men. With every attack in your country a new terrorist group with a new label takes credit. That’s how it starts. The day will come when a determined and motivated leader manages to coalesce the many fingers of extremism into a hard-hitting fist, with an ideology as compelling as it is evil. When that happens, you will pay a price in blood and sorrow for generations to come. We know this because we have seen it all before.
Similar Posts:]]>‘Weli’ has been in the news lately for reasons other than his near death experience. He is the lawyer that fought the case against former President Chandrika Kumaratunga and various influence-peddlers who illegally transferred 118 acres of public land in Battaramulla to a crony businessman. The land, which was supposed to be used for a public purpose, was filled using public funds and made into an exclusive golf course called Water’s Edge, open only to those who could afford the Rs. 250,000 membership. Mr. Weliamuna won the case, and in a landmark judgement the Supreme Court ordered that the land and all buildings on it be handed back to the public.
And ‘Weli’ is not done yet! He has another case in the Supreme Court, this time taking on the privatization of the Sri Lanka Insurance Corporation, a profit-making government-owned company that was sold to yet another businessman at (it is alleged) a grossly undervalued price.
‘Weli’ is also appearing in fundamental rights violation cases on behalf of journalist J. S. Tissainayagam (who committed the ‘crime’ of criticizing the government), and on behalf of a man who was allegedly tortured by the police in Kandana (the grenade attack followed a few days after he appeared for this case).
Many of us have griped from the corners about the influential few who seem to float over the law, enriching themselves at public expense simply because they know ‘someone in power.’ Some of them even hold government office while running underworld trades in drugs, alcohol, and thuggery, while the law enforcers either look the other way or actively participate with them. They steal what they please, and assault or murder who they please and when they please. We know who they are, we know what they have done, and we can do nothing about it. That seemed to be a fact of life. But no more: ‘Weli’ has them in his sights and he is set on taking them down one by one. They fear him; they fear the law that he wields so skilfully, ensnaring them in it and tightening it into a noose with the help of an emboldened Supreme Court.
It is not an overstatement to say that ‘Weli’ is our local superhero. He wears no cape nor does he hide behind a mask-he’s more Clark Kent than Superman-but this is a man with steely resolve. Lesser mortals would have taken the first plane out after the attack, but he had no intention of leaving (unlike the influential few who have pre-planned exit strategies with green cards and houses abroad). It was barely two weeks since ‘Weli’ had escaped death, and here he was at the rally, speaking proudly from the humble stage. He was not surrounded by bodyguards; he was surrounded by us, who came to hear him speak and give him a well-deserved round of applause.
There were many speakers at the rally, ranging from civil rights groups to humble trade unions-too many to mention. But it is important to mention what they said. They reminded us of the JVP insurgency in 1989, when southern youth were abducted, tortured, and murdered by the thousands. We were told then that the law had to be suspended until we got rid of these unruly elements. We were told it was for our own good. But in hindsight we know that it was not just a war against terrorists; it was a war against everyone. Back then, if you had a personal grievance, a business disagreement, land dispute, or simply wanted somebody out of your way, your problem could be solved if you knew ‘someone in power.’ All you had to do was point the finger at your target and say three letters-‘J.V.P’-and they were history. Their mutilated bodies appeared on a roadside or floated down a river. It is much the same today, though now when you point the finger, you have to say four letters-‘L.T.T.E.’ The box-model Pajero of yesteryear has been replaced by the ubiquitous white van that the state seems blissfully unaware of despite thousands of public sightings and reports in the media.
They reminded us that it was the failure to uphold the law back in the late eighties that caused that period of terror, and has also caused the ethnic conflict that rages today. When peaceful protesters demanded equal rights for the Tamil community in the 1950s, thugs beat them up; when thugs looted, raped, and murdered in the 1983 anti-Tamil riots, the police looked the other way. If the law had been upheld then, we would not be fighting this war today. They reminded us that when we say nothing as some of our citizens are registered like cattle, when we say nothing as they languish as refugees under trees, when we say nothing as journalists are beaten up and murdered for bringing us the truth, when we say nothing as a courageous lawyer is attacked, we leave the door open for the same boot of oppression to step on us.
They reminded us that an important part of the Constitution of Sri Lanka (the 17th amendment) is not being implemented. The amendment sets up independent commissions that will be in charge of elections, the public service, the police, human rights, and bribery investigation. The implementation of these independent commissions will prevent the influential few from appointing cronies to these powerful posts. According to the law, to which every citizen is answerable, the Constitution of Sri Lanka is supreme, and therefore it must be honoured. And yet, the influential few refuse to do so. In other words, they are breaking the supreme law of the land. So what do we do?
The speakers at the rally had an answer. They suggested that for the police, the courts, and the government to uphold the law, we must uphold it first. We must respect the law, and we must care about people like ‘Weli,’ who at grave personal risk are still out there fighting the good fight. Your indifference does far more damage than any bomb, grenade, or bullet ever could. So talk about him, talk about the cases that he fights, and the cases that need fighting; talk to your family, your friends, your co-workers-make them care. We need to stand shoulder to shoulder with people like ‘Weli’ and send a clear message that if they mess with one of us, they mess with all of us. We need to unite, irrespective of whether we are Sinhala or Tamil, Muslim or Buddhist, Christian or Hindu; irrespective of whether we support a purely political solution to the ethnic problem or a combination of political and military force; we need to unite as citizens and as patriots, and demand in one voice: “uphold the law!”
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- Rally calling for the immediate release Sarath Fonseka: Video and photos
- And now for something completely different – “Victor Claymore”!
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The purpose of a military is to protect the nation and the democracy-in essence, to protect you and me. IF the system works correctly, we the people are the real rulers. We elect members from amongst us to represent our interests, and the military protects our right to do so. The military serves us. But the General thinks differently; he thinks we serve the military.
Here are a few sound bites from the interview that will help you get better acquainted with the General:
The common masses: “… they have to go through hardships. They have to spend a lot of money. They have to sacrifice.”
Ok, ok, I get it! We need to tighten our belts so that the military can recruit, train, and arm themselves to protect us. But why did they purchase a 44 million rupee Mercedes S-class for the General? It isn’t even armoured, and therefore not suitable for use by a high-risk target, which the General certainly is. The Sunday Leader’s sources said the car was for the General’s wife, though the army had denied this. Either way, how much belt-tightening is a Mercedes worth?
The nation: “the Sinhala nation has to sacrifice if you want to protect the country and survive.”
The Sinhala nation? I thought I lived in the multi-ethnic nation of Sri Lanka. Have we already been divided into a Sinhala nation, a Tamil nation, and a Muslim nation? This seems to be the world the General knows, shaped by his personal experiences as a child. He speaks of being a victim: “I can still remember how the villagers used to run to a rocky cliff when Tamils attack our village. We spend two to three days there until the situation comes back to normal.”
And there’s more-his opinion on the ethnic problem: “I don’t think the people in the North and East are subjected to any injustice…This country will be ruled by the Sinhalese community which is the majority representing 74 percent of the population.”
Well, good thing I was born Sinhala! We Sinhala can all give ourselves a collective pat on the back for putting this guy in charge of our security-he’s really looking out for us. Or is he? Read on…
On the 11th of May this year, the deputy editor of the Nation newspaper, Keith Noyahr, wrote an article titled: “An army is not its commander’s private fiefdom.” It criticized the General for depriving senior, capable, and deserving officers of reaching command positions, and instead promoting junior officers with little battlefield experience. The article pointed out a whimsical (should we say dictatorial?) style of leadership where a Major General who spearheaded the victory in the East was thanklessly removed and kicked out of his official quarters, while the commander responsible for the Muhamalai debacle was rewarded with a promotion. When it came to nominating officers for service awards, the General was a scrooge, recommending a grand total of one person for the Vishista Seva Vibushanaya… himself. He determined that only he was fit to receive it, even though he was overlooked for a lesser decoration, the Uttama Seva Padakkama, by no less than five previous army commanders (they must have had their reasons, says Noyahr’s sources). The article clearly seemed to have the tacit cooperation of officers within the service: officers who felt that the army was transforming from an institution run by military professionals with an established procedural code, to one that operated on a cult of personality-the personality of Lt. General Fonseka.
Less than two weeks after the article was published, Keith Noyahr was abducted and tortured. The Chief Opposition Whip, Joseph Michael Perera, said in parliament:
“We are told by those in the army itself that journalists are abducted and subjected to grievous injury by none other than a special unit under the army commander.”
The General’s opinion of Mr Noyahr:
“If he has done some damage to our organisation or to a person, especially when he has done something which he is not supposed to do, then it is natural he must be living in fear. If they think that they have done something of that nature the best thing for them is to correct themselves and rectify the mistake…These so called media guys are not responsible to the people and they are not entitled to such media freedom.”
So here’s what we have so far: a man who is racist, egotistical, dictatorial, and extravagant. Add to this a contempt for public freedom, an inability to appreciate other points of view, and a tendency to hold personal grudges against any who defy him.
We have our leading man. Now we need a play. So here’s where we peep in to our crystal ball and look at a possible scenario in the not too distant future:
The conventional war against the LTTE is won; the Vanni is taken. The General is celebrated as a national hero and President Mahinda Rajapaksha basks in the glory of victory. And then…the people start asking questions: why is the cost of living still so high; why are politicians so corrupt, with even provincial councillors travelling in motorcades of luxury limousines; why is Mervyn Silva still on the loose; why are obvious black holes of public money like Mihin Lanka Airlines still existing; why are political hangers-on and suck-ups selling their influence to the highest bidder; why is the country so morally decrepit, and rife with casino kings, drug peddlers, and liquor bars? And here’s one more: why are bombs still exploding in the South? Didn’t we just win this war?
Who can solve these problems? Our hero in uniform of course: Lt. General Sarath Fonseka. He’ll promise to wipe out corruption and stop the bombs in the South-all he needs is complete control of the nation. He will return Sri Lanka to the morally pure dharma-dveepa that we keep hearing about. There’s already hinted support from the JHU. Athuraliye Rathana Thera in a recent interview (again with the Nation newspaper, bless them!) voiced his support for militarisation: “we think that military service should be compulsory…Two years of military service will inculcate the values of simplicity, labour, strength and discipline in our young men.” When military dictatorship comes, looks like some of the Buddhist clergy may be their cheerleaders.
Some of you will think this is a far-fetched idea. It will never happen, not in this country, you say. Think again. Why is it that the only viable candidate the UNP could come up with for the North Central Province election is former General Janaka Perera, who by the way was General Sarath Fonseka’s superior. The military is the only institution in Sri Lanka today that really commands respect among the people (or to use the General’s vernacular, among the Sinhala nation). They are also blessed with the most funding: estimates of 200 billion rupees for this year. Compare this to a mere 20 billion rupees for education and 25 billion rupees for higher education. If we spend so little on educating our people and giving them the means to climb the economic ladder, we are compelling them to be soldiers; it is a conscription of sorts. An article by the Associated Press titled “War is only job available in Sri Lankan village,” interviewed a mother who said, “but there’s no option. What can we do?” By militarising our society to this extent, are we not strengthening a hand that could threaten us with a fist? Once these boys are done fighting the LTTE, whom will they fight next to earn their keep? If a hot-headed General orders them to turn their guns on us, they might just obey-they need the job.
Some of you will think, well why not have a military dictatorship? An oft-heard comment is that democracy has failed in Sri Lanka. It has brought us nothing but grief to the masses, and riches to the influential few. The people are so jaded by the incompetence and dishonesty of our politicians, and the clear failure of our political system, that they will celebrate a military coup. We will lose our freedoms, our right to vote, to protest, and to disagree. But surely these are just small sacrifices for the good of the nation. In any case, our vote is meaningless. We vote for an MP from a particular party, but they just jump to the other side after they get our vote. There are rumours of large payoffs for an MP to cross over; they sell the power that we gave them. So why vote? Why have elections? Why have democracy at all?
Let’s answer that with another question: how bad can a military dictatorship be? Are there examples we can learn from? Yes. We can point to the brutal dictatorships of General Franco of Spain, or General Pinochet of Chile; both countries have returned to democracy (that might be a clue). The vicious military dictatorship in Burma has been in the news this year (and in the movies-see Rambo). When Cyclone Nargis hit Burma, the military rulers did little to help the 1 million homeless, and hindered others from assisting, watching callously as thousands died long after the storm had passed. But the military dictatorship we can learn most from is the one that is closest to us geographically. I refer to the military dictatorship in the Vanni, led by (General) Prabhakaran.
Prabhakaran promised the Tamil people that he would free them from persecution by the Sinhala-dominated government. All he needed was unquestioning control and complete submission to his dictatorial rule. Thirty years on, after murdering a long list of Tamil moderates simply because they dared to disagree with him (even though they still believed in the Tamil struggle), and with more than 20,000 LTTE cadres dead (a great deal of them young conscripts), the Tamil people’s submission to Prabhakaran’s dictatorship has brought them no closer to their liberation. The University Teachers for Human Rights (Jaffna) has this to say about the LTTE:
“The civilian dead, including the thousands the LTTE killed in mass executions for real or imagined political reasons in its dreaded mass prisons in the early 1990s, and in regular individual killings, would be even higher.”
They describe life in the Vanni under the LTTE:
“Life in the Vanni is something between outright fascist repression and a horrid joke gone too far… It appears to people that the LTTE endangers them as a matter of policy… There are hardly any services but mainly extortion…The LTTE’s control hinges on poruppalars (persons-in-charge or divisional heads)…They are the virtual maharajahs or fiefs. Many of them live in luxury houses amidst so much drabness and poverty.”
This then is the danger of allowing a dictatorship: he who pretends to be your saviour can soon become your oppressor. Although it is tempting to write off our democracy as flawed (and it has been especially oppressive to the Tamil community), there is always a possibility of change. Governments have changed several times since independence: the socialist regime of the 70s that brought queues and rationing was flung out by the vote; the murderous and profligate regime of the 80s was flung out by the vote. We’re all still waiting for a government that can bring real peace and real prosperity. If the political choices available to you seem poor, then come forward yourself and form your own party, run for office. That is your right. Do not give it up. Once you have sacrificed your freedom and your right to vote, you have opened up a Pandora’s box of evil that you will pay dearly to close.
So look out, be vigilant: the General is coming.
Similar Posts:]]>And yet I don’t blame them. I don’t like them, but I don’t blame them. I blame our voters, most of whom if given the chance to become politicians, would turn into sanctimonious, bigoted, bribe taking, scum sucking thugs themselves. George Carlin (may he rest in peace) said it best: “garbage in, garbage out: if you have selfish, ignorant citizens, you’re gonna get selfish, ignorant leaders.”
Our politicians like to hang out with Buddhist priests (who like to hang out with politicians). The moral nobility that is represented in the saffron robe is a good place for a politician to hide their sins. When a politician known to be a drug dealer piously shuts down all bars in his area for Vesak while the priests cluck approvingly, you’d expect everyone to think this is a farce. When they seek blessings from the purveyors of non-violence, compassion, and loving-kindness to promote war, you’d expect everyone to think this is ironic. Surely everyone gets that, right? No, not everyone. Our  voters don’t get it.
When they suppress the freedom of speech and freedom of expression and call the media traitors, you’d expect everyone to get that they’re trying to hide something. When a deputy editor of a newspaper is kidnapped and tortured after he revealed that the army just bought an S-class Mercedes for their commander, you’d expect them to get that maybe this war is really about making money. No, not everyone. Our voters don’t get it.
When they spend three billion on a failed airline, but our teachers are underpaid, our schools are falling apart, and our children don’t know what the Internet is, you’d expect everyone to get that maybe this is unfair. No, not everyone. Our  voters don’t get it.
They make patriotic speeches on how we absolutely do not need NGOs (who built most of those tsunami houses), and we do not need international aid (guess who funded the Kelaniya overpass? England; the Colombo-Matara Highway? Asian Development Bank). And of course we don’t care what the Europeans think about us (but we want duty free access to their markets, thank you very much). Everyone gets that this is just a gimmick to put a little patriotic fire in our belly in place of ever-increasingly priced food. No, not everyone. Our voters don’t get it.
Everyone says our political system needs to be changed. I happen to think the system is fine. After all, we get a long list of people to pick from in the general elections; we just pick the wrong ones. So the next time you get run off the road by a convoy of Defenders escorting a retinue of armour plated luxury cars, don’t curse the politicians-they are not the problem.
Look in the mirror; the problem is YOU.
Similar Posts:]]>Life in Sri Lanka seems to follow the Old Testament of the Bible: “eye for eye, tooth for tooth, hand for hand, foot for foot, burning for burning, wound for wound, stripe for stripe.”
We can add: “bomb for bomb.”
It has been this way for some time. It started with the Sinhala Only Act of 1956, a blatantly racist piece of legislation passed by the Sri Lankan Freedom Party, which made Sinhala the sole official language of Sri Lanka. Tamil politicians protested peacefully that it was unfair; they were ignored and ridiculed. The racism fermented by the act exploded in anti-Tamil riots in 1958. By the 1970s, pissed off young Tamils in the North armed themselves and formed militant groups. In May 1981, Tamil militants killed two Sinhalese policemen. The response was swift: that night, policemen and goons from the then ruling United National Party burnt the Jaffna Public Library, destroying a priceless collection of books and documents. In July 1983, the LTTE ambushed and killed15 Sinhalese army soldiers in Jaffna; the response was a massive nationwide anti-Tamil riot that killed over 1000 Tamil civilians. Tamils fled Sri Lanka en masse, creating a Diaspora that willingly (at first) funded the Tamil militancy. The LTTE, a little known group in the 70s grew in to a brutally efficient beast that breathed hatred and bombs.
It’s been 25 years since the race riots of 1983, and it’s been a tit for tat game of them killing us and us killing them. A part of that game has been played on the battlefield with conventional forces, but innocent civilians are often caught in the crossfire. Bullets and artillery can’t tell combatant from non-combatant. And bombs, smart as they are today, are not that smart-the occasional ‘surgical strike’ by our air force does kill civilians too.
So how do we find our way out of this mess? Some politicians speak of military victories, others of political settlements. But it really comes down to us, the ones who vote for them. For it wasn’t Mr. S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike who passed the Sinhala Only Act-it was the people who voted for his communal brand of politics. The fact is that those who fight this war now are too young to remember 1983, let alone 1956. Who started what doesn’t matter any more. We just remember the last bomb, and most of us want to give it back to them in kind.
The government tells us that these acts of terror should strengthen our resolve to fight harder, to defeat and vanquish the LTTE forever. In the aftermath of our terrorist acts against them, the LTTE tells the people of the North that their only hope is to fight until they achieve Eelam. Both sides say the same thing: fight to the end, fight to win. Will this really solve anything?
Perhaps we should try something different. Perhaps it’s time to think about the words of a man that many in this island claim to follow, but few bother to understand:
“Victory breeds hatred. The defeated live in pain. Happily the peaceful live, giving up victory and defeat.”
Verse 201, The Dhammapada, uttered by the Buddha
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Some links for those with strong stomachs:
29th January: Attack on bus carrying children in LTTE-controlled Madhu
2nd February: Dambulla bus bomb blast
3rd February: Colombo Fort Station bomb blast
23rd May: 16 civilians killed in blast in N Sri Lanka
26th May: Dehiwala train blast kills eight
Similar Posts:]]>By Under Dog
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Amidst the bombs, the war, the white vans, and the checkpoints, I look back with fond memories of the ceasefire. It brought four glorious years of peace and prosperity, and also did what the naysayers said could never happen—it split the LTTE in two. Karuna, the LTTE’s fiercest combat commander, and an incessant thorn in our side during the ill-fated Jayasikurui operation, decided he wanted out. Perhaps he wanted a bigger share of the spoils from the LTTE money machine, perhaps more authority, or perhaps he had a lover’s quarrel with Prabhakaran (when the Dear Leader asked ‘do I look fat in this?’ he shouldn’t have recommended changing the uniforms to vertical stripes). Anyway, the truth is we will never really know, but then rumours of internal strife within the LTTE have been rife for years: Tamilselvan vs. Prabhakaran, Pottu Amman vs. Prabhakaran, Tamilselvam vs. Pottu Amman etc. No smoke without fire, so we can assume that the LTTE hierarchy wasn’t the united brotherhood of hunky-doryness they projected to the world.
So that leaves me to think that if the ceasefire continued for a few more years, internal strife within the LTTE might have tamed the roaring tiger into an impotent pussy. Alas, it was not to be. The LTTE wanted war, perhaps to unite the squabblers with the war cry of ‘Eelam or death’ (mostly death these days), or perhaps they knew the LTTE would dissolve into the blissful oblivion of peace if the ceasefire continued. The Sinhala-Buddhists wanted war because…because they are Sinhala and Buddhist and they want to keep it that way (and everyone just loves a good war—especially when we think we’re winning). But then what about the Tamils in the north? Did you want war? Was the ceasefire too peaceful for you? Did you miss the checkpoints and the harassment and the refugee camps so much that you wanted it back? Did you miss the exercise of running away from artillery and MBRL’s and the aerial bombs?
No, I’m not trying to be cruel. But I do miss the ceasefire, and I am against this pointless war. That supposedly makes me a traitor to my Sinhala ethnicity and an LTTE sympathizer. So be it. There’s something about young boys and girls killing each other, coming home limbless and scarred for life that doesn’t quite compute. There’s something about Tamils being dragged off in the night because they look ‘suspicious,’ or bussing them out of Colombo because this isn’t their home that makes my stomach turn. There’s something about bombs on buses and trains, and claymores in the streets that makes me retch. But I put my Sinhala vote where my views are by voting for Ranil in the last presidential election. I thought ceasefire good, war bad, so I voted for the ceasefire guy. What about the Tamils in the North? Why didn’t you vote? Yeah, I know the LTTE told you not to, but you didn’t have to listen to them. Whatever they threatened to do to you then, could it be any worse than what is happening to you now?
WHY DIDN’T YOU VOTE?!
Similar Posts:]]>Let me count the ways:
- I love the way you worked for the benefit of the nation by busting through 1.4 billion rupees of public funds in 9 months.
- I love the way you used 385 million rupees worth of fuel from the CPC without paying for it.
- I love the way you convinced the Treasury (public funds) to pay off the fuel debt on your behalf. Â
- I love the way you drove Lankaputhra Development Bank (founded with public funds to make small loans to small businesses) into insolvency by ‘borrowing’ 500 million rupees from it.
- I love the way you plan to utilize synergies (steal profits away) by rationalizing routes (taking routes from) Sri Lankan airlines.
- I love the way you take off with bits and pieces missing from an engine: “heck, most of it is there, it’ll fly” and the “Mayday! Mayday!” that facilitates speedy entry for unscheduled stop-overs.
Frankly, what’s not to love about Mihin Lanka Airlines?
Similar Posts:]]>