Looking back without anger
Next week Sri Lankans will celebrate the second anniversary of the
end of the fratricidal conflict that tore our country apart for 26
years, the conclusion of three decades of lawlessness and wanton
destruction.
The conflict didn’t start with Prabhakaran. It was true that the
Tamil New Tigers, as they were called in the mid-70s, had carried out
bank robberies and assassinations. It is true that the Tamil people,
especially the intellectuals, had grievances.
However, there was no real sense of urgency. Jaffna was prosperous
and its farmers, in particular, were thriving. There was rule of the law
and a general belief in the system of governance based on the popular
vote - and that grievances could be addressed within the limits of that
system.
Jaffna library. File photo |
Che Guevara said that an armed revolution was a practical
impossibility in a democratic system in which the people believed. Mao
said that ‘the guerrilla must move amongst the people as a fish swims in
the sea’.
Democratic system
So it was that the Tigers were fish out of water, merely banditti
skulking around the edges of the polity. Prabhakaran’s followers were
few, his base of support small, his actions pathetic.
Then came the Jayewardene regime, under which justice became
arbitrary, laws became mere impediments to political advancement and the
democratic system just another plaything. Fear became normal; it was not
a psychosis, it was the real thing - and it affected people of all
ethnic groups.
In 1981 came the rigging of the Jaffna District Development Council
election and the burning of the Jaffna library. The government had
patently ceased to be of the people, for the people.
Even so, as late as the Presidential election in 1982, the Jaffna
people showed they had faith in the electoral system, if not in the
Jayewardene government, and voted for Hector Kobbekaduwa - someone whom
the farmers identified with their days of prosperity.
Systematic lawlessness
The cusp between peace and war was not the killing of 12 soldiers in
July 1983. It was the subsequent untrammelled onslaught on Tamil
civilians in majority Sinhalese areas and the government’s silence in
the face of it.
The people affected were the cream of the intelligentsia, whose lives
were based in the South. Most of them had been supporters of the
Jayewardene government and they had little in common with Prabhakaran.
Overnight, a new cohort of well-educated recruits to the Liberation
Tigers of Tamil Eelam, hitherto a small band of assassins centred around
Prabhakaran, was born. More importantly, a sea in which the LTTE fish
could swim was created.
The pity of it was that, in return for the random lawlessness of the
Jayewardene regime, the Tamil people were given the systematic
lawlessness of the Prabhakaran tyranny. The old Sinhalese saying, inguru
dheela miris gaththa vagey (like exchanging ginger for chilli) is simply
not emphatic enough to describe this barter.
The result was about 100,000 dead, a scorched Jaffna peninsula, a
wounded Vanni and an entire generation of young minds - who had never
witnessed anything but war - traumatised and damaged.
And it was not just the North, which bore the brunt of fighting. In
the South there were suicide bombings, attacks on civilian aircraft,
time bombs placed in public transport and vicious forays against
civilians.
Freedom of movement
Two years ago, that era came to an end. People celebrated then, not
at the death of Prabhakaran but at the death of the period of death and
uncertainty which he represented. Now, the freedom of movement and the
absence of that pervasive sense fear have become ordinary.
Most crucially, the writ of the democratic process runs once more
from Dondra Head to Point Pedro. This is the most important defence
against the recurrence of the horror of the past 30 years.
That Black July was important to the Tigers as a catalyst is shown by
the numerous occasions on which they targeted innocent civilians in
brutal attacks designed to recreate the same ethnic riots. They did not
succeed because, at bottom, the diverse peoples of Sri Lanka do not hate
each other.
At the height of the violence of July 1983, there were Sinhalese
families who went out of their way to protect their Tamil neighbours.
This was not a picture which fitted into the Tiger world view, which
depicted Tamils on the one hand pitted against hordes of murderous
Sinhalese and Muslims on the other.
Live in peace
One occurrence that gave the lie to this convenient picture of ethnic
hatred was the reaction of ordinary people to the Boxing Day Tsunami of
2004.
Citizens from all walks of life went to the aid of the victims,
irrespective of ethnicity or creed.
It is this spirit that we have to build on in the future. We do not
have particularly to like each other, just recognise that we are all
equally inhabitants of this tiny island of ours and that we all have a
right to live in peace.
What we require right now is national reconciliation, rebuilding our
country not just economically, but socially. The genuine grievances of
the minorities need to be addressed, as well as the anxieties of the
majority. We need to look forward in hope, not backwards in anger.
One cause for optimism lies in the ongoing programmes to rehabilitate
former LTTE cadres. Many of them were forcibly conscripted as children
and sent to the front lines, where they experienced all the horrors of
war. They were brainwashed into a violent mindset in which cruelty to
one’s perceived enemy was the norm, but now they are being given new
skills and a new outlook with which to re-enter society.
As the Bhagavad Gita says:
‘Out of compassion I destroy the darkness of their ignorance. From
within them I light the lamp of wisdom and dispel all darkness from
their lives.’ |