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| Sunday, 11 May 2003 |
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Getting back into the North-East Observations by LAKSHMAN GUNASEKERA Beaches, benches, barbed wire, and bunkers. In quick succession, I notice them as my eyes lazily survey the picturesque resort beach frontage on the far side of the channel that links Batticaloa's sprawling, meandering lagoon to the sea. After the resort beach front comes the barbed wire and bunkers of the lagoon perimeter of a small, fortified police post which provides personnel for the guard hut at the southern entrance of Batticaloa's famous bridge. It's a balmy Saturday morning and we are on holiday on the East coast. But, after the previous day's drive into town from the Valaichchenai terminus of the night mail train from Colombo, we have already passed through too many fortified Army camps and 'security zones' and seen too many roaming Army troopers roadside to have any of the illusions of 'peace' that one easily gets over here on the West coast of our Paradise Isle. A holiday we might have been on, but the encounter of military strongpoints every few minutes on that madly fast, 35-minute drive from Valaichchenai (our van driver, the burly Ramesh, who regularly drives a big bus to Colombo in just five hours, loved to show off his undeniable skills), quickly dispels any hope of a purely 'escapist' trip. The difference from the Jaffna Peninsula, and the North in general, though, is stark: in the East, we are not confronted, as in the Peninsula, with pure urban or rural battlescapes. Batticaloa city centre is not, like Jaffna, a vast stretch of rubble and flattened buildings interspersed with a few upright blocks in working order despite their pockmarks of bullet holes (the urban warscapes of Bosnia in 'Behind Enemy Lines', so like Jaffna, just go to show how realistic cinema can be). Neither do we have, in the East, as in the Peninsula, those whole swathes of countryside in which the topless coconut trees or other battered vegetation starkly remind you of the terrifyingly 'realist' Vietnam war scenes in 'Apocalypse Now' and 'Full Metal Jacket'. veritable koththu What is special to the East is that jarring mix of residential-cum-agricultural-cum-commercial-cum-tourist resort-cum-battle architecture. It's a veritable koththu with the typically annoying (to me) undetectable bits of chicken bone or chilli mixed in. You just do not have the time to enjoy the greenery and picturesque pastoral landscapes before your eyes are disturbed by long rows of barbed wire, defensive earthworks, and fighting bunkers. The LTTE's presence is more deceptive as it has always been in this very real 'people's war' that we have experienced on our Resplendent Isle. It was my knowledge as a political activist more than my journalist expertise that helped identify their presence, wherever we went in the East. After all they do not wear uniforms as uniformly as the State security forces are wont to do in the North-East (the security forces' behaviour seems to be a deliberate 'show-of-strength' policy which, logical though it may be, is not necessarily effective). People from the South, especially Sinhalas and Muslims, who do not know the LTTE colours, would not have realised the significance of the red-and-yellow plastic (ugghh!) bunting that gaily decorated whole stretches of road in the East, nor their powerful symbolic counterpoint to the State-backed EPDP's May Day posters that also cheekily dotted many walls. Just as much as the LTTE's actions once demonstrated their bravery in the face of the State forces (as did the JVP), today, with the Tigers' in political pre-eminence in the North-East, the actions of the Eelam People's Democratic Party and other non-LTTE political groups are as brave, if not as effective. It also takes a keen (perhaps subversive-illicit) eye to recognise those young men in civils casually lounging against a wall as the LTTE work gang whose tractor-trailer is being repaired (for free?) in the nearby garejjiya. The spruce, brightly civilian, LTTE offices that have now sprung up all over are also a counterpoint to the camouflage drab and sombre military aspect of the Army strongpoints. I cannot help feel sorry for the Sinhala troopers, in their lonely military isolation in that sea of Tamils and Muslims, bravely though they may be flying the flag of the yet Sinhala-dominated Sri Lankan state. Even if girls in civvies, uniformly girdled with the signature LTTE belt over their loose shirts, cycle past Sinhala policemen with nary a wink nor a glare, then underlying tensions are obvious. Islamic township The koththu effect goes further, even to the different time zones. Speeding down the Kalmunai road to catch the ferry at Kokkadicholai on Friday morning, having left down-town Batticaloa we thought we could buy more camera film in Kattankudi. Wrong: Friday is part of the weekend in that determinedly Islamic township and everything was closed except for one or two Tamil-non-Islamic kadays. Come Sunday, and we do the same trip, and then Batticaloa is shut down for the weekend while Kattankudi bustles at the start of new work week. Having taken the Kokkadicholai (or, 'Koke' as I playfully called it) ferry, we were in Tiger territory as we visited a 1,600-year-old sacred Siva Lingam kovil (the current structure is modern and aesthetically unimpressive). That we had entered the Eelam time zone was clear from the temple clock which was 30 minutes behind my watch. Actually, Eelam time is the genuine geographical time while, we in the Sri Lankan State, live accordingly to time artificially fixed 30 minutes ahead of the South Asian time zone (along 80 degrees Longitude) to please our mercantilist masters' desire for synchronisation with Western markets. The venerable Buddha Sangha may be the only people in Sri Lankan State territory who coordinate with Eelam time. Typically, the LTTE staff collecting entry tax at the ferry checkpoint were in civils and, so was the Tiger cadre who checked us out in a friendly manner (our driver interpreted) at the kovil. Travellers' tip: light-coloured, checked shirts seem to be the signature dress code among male Tigers, at least among the lower ranks. Thus, within a range of about 60 kilometres, we had crossed three different time lines as it were, or, at least three different socio-political practices of time. The inter-ethnic differentiation, of course, is not just in such social practice. The buildings in the East may be largely yet upright (as opposed to the North), but the sudden gaps in the lines of shops and homes is ethnically coordinated. In the Tamil areas those gaps or the fire-blackened empty buildings were those that once housed Muslims (Moors), and in the Muslim areas, the destroyed, damaged or abandoned buildings belonged to Tamils. I have little idea what impact all these 'sights' have had on my children who were supposedly tripping out on holiday. I guess it is a necessary part of their life, as it is ours. Even Passikudah, with its glorious sea and (filthy) beach was marred by the ruined shell of a large, war-affected building nearby. The Sri Lankan experience of war and ethnic conflict cannot be escaped wherever one runs to on our Resplendent Isle (no, not even Nuwara Eliya). simplistic policy Today, it is only those who are not aware of the experience of the Sri Lanka ethnic war, who yet use the rhetoric of the less-aware early period of Sinhala hegemonism, secessionist insurgency and counter-insurgency. Today, perhaps no one in Sri Lanka uses the term 'terrorism' so easily as it was done in the past to describe the Tamil nationalist war or to label the LTTE. The only ones who seem to do so live outside, mainly in Washington DC, London and other capitals of the big powers. I am not referring to the diaspora Sinhalas, many of whom certainly remain lost in their hegemonistic fantasy. I am referring to the Western governments and their dogmatic, dogged 'counter-terrorism' posture. After all, it was precisely this ridiculously simplistic policy that led to that disastrous Washington aid meeting from which the United States government scrupulously excluded the LTTE and, worse, even publicly preached against them and labelled them as "terrorists". I am certain that the Government (except, perhaps for one or two inexperienced young politicos, especially Westward-leaning ones) would have suspected that there would be repercussions. I am certain, that given a choice, the Government would have avoided such a discriminatory exercise. But, as much of the world has learnt via colonialism and others via post-colonial military aggression and political bullying, the sheer power of the globally dominant capitalist states cannot be escaped in this 'modern' age. Even if President Premadasa did resist the World Bank/IMF strictures against social welfare (he persisted with his Gam Udaava and unemployment dole programme, knowing full well the social dangers of poverty), subsequent Sri Lankan governments have had neither the political will nor the political-intellectual capacity for such resistance. Hence, the once-radical Chandrika Kumaratunga became the most rigorous executor of structural adjustment policy and the current regime seems unable to deviate from this path of subservience either. difficult to fault the Government It is difficult to fault the Government on the Washington debacle except perhaps to question as to whether they had adequately advised the Americans about the dangers of their bullying tactic. Of course, it is possible that those Sri Lankans most closely advising the State Department were not as sensitive to the possible repercussions as some other, older, more experienced Government leaders. Now, the Government, and the country as a whole, has to suffer this setback caused by the immaturity and sheer bombast of those in power in the global-imperial capitals who like to think that everything works their way. Today, what has happened is that the State, both national and global (in the form of the US-UN-IMF-WTO monolith), has been shut out of the peace process in the North-East of Sri Lankan while the LTTE is proceeding according to the peace-making 'road map' of rehabilitation etcetera, on its own. In Washington's crude attempt to bully the LTTE into submission by shutting out the Tigers, both Colombo and Washington (and Tokyo and Oslo et al) have been shut out of the North-East - and without a shot being fired! blunderings Now we see politician follow diplomat follow mediator follow emissary follow NGO activist all pilgrimaging to Kilinochchi. This is ostensibly to wean the LTTE back into the peace process. In reality, this is for the Sri Lankan State and its backing big powers to edge their way back into an involvement in the North-East. If Washington thought to shut out the LTTE at the aid meeting, now Washington's bureaucrats have to humiliatingly trudge to the Vanni to repair the damage. By its blunderings, the US has compelled the Sri Lankan State to suffer a serious political disadvantage: it has given a further bargaining lever to the LTTE. If the LTTE had been locked into the negotiating process earlier, now they have been pushed out, and must needs to be placated and more concessions given in order to revive the talks process. No doubt, US military power will have some influence, and that will be brandished in some way in the on-going overtures, but nevertheless, nothing has been gained and much momentum has been lost in the peace process as a result of the Washington exercise. I doubt if the current leaders in that capital will learn from this. After all, to them, Sri Lanka is a dot in the ocean, at most, a convenient refuelling port. |
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