The Tamil diaspora’s responsibility
TORONTO — As the war in Sri Lanka nears its end, stories of the conflict zone begin to emerge with greater clarity. A lack of media access has obscured certain narratives, but some who have escaped have relayed their situations to family and friends. Here is one such story told to me:
Whether you call Puthumathalan a war zone or not depends on your take on Sri Lankan politics. But the ordinary citizens who gather in this part of northern Sri Lanka’s Wanni region at this moment don’t care what you say: They don’t talk about politics. Nor do they know the kind of political games the outside world is playing with their lives. They talk about survival.
In a scene played out over the past few months of intense fighting, a few of the men converse quietly with each other before returning to their spouses, who are carrying infants. Their older children cluster around them. Between their exchanges, some try to escape into bunkers to avoid being killed by ongoing military assaults. The government says that they are destroying the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, and government forces continue to pound the area with artillery fire, despite the civilians’ presence there.
The Tigers, too, fire at the civilians, to prevent them from escaping into government-controlled territory. The rebels’ lives depend on holding these civilians as their shields.
But these particular civilians don’t intend to follow this plan. The men’s conversations translate into action, and several of them march toward the defense lines, where two arms-bearing Tiger cadres are on sentry duty. The sentries have been charged with ensuring that none of the civilians escapes into army territory. The men approaching them take them by surprise: Leaping into a scuffle, the civilians wrest the guns from their captors and charge forward.
Their family members follow them toward army territory and past the Tiger lines. This group of men and women are the suicide fighters of the civilian force. They have no idea what will happen to them as they risk their lives to escape. Still, they press on for their freedom.
In other places, only half this story will be told: For many of my brothers and sisters in the Sri Lankan Tamil diaspora, it is not the Tigers’ crimes, but only the army’s atrocities that come to light.
It is true that government forces have committed many atrocities in the past, and may be committing more right now. Still, that does not change the fact that in recent months, the number of atrocities committed by the Tigers against their own people have skyrocketed. Forceful recruitment of children, firing at innocent civilians and using civilians as human shields are only a few of their crimes.
In the diaspora, we come to know these things easily. We have access to press, electronic media and access to websites in many languages. Why do we continue to deny the truth?
As new Canadians, we loudly proclaim our right to protest. Many youngsters in the Western world treasure freedom of expression as a sacred right. Last weekend, some of these people were able to organize another protest parade in front of Ontario’s Provincial Parliament, with the support of the Tigers’ umbrella organizations.
Many came to the microphone to declare their right to protest. But they failed to show real solidarity with their people in Sri Lanka. Those people, like the ones in Puthumathalan, have neither the freedom to express their anger toward the Tigers, nor the freedom to escape the war zone. But thus far, the diaspora’s criticisms have targeted only the government of Sri Lanka.
The diaspora’s failures to protest in support of ordinary civilians are disappointing, but regrettably, not surprising.
What was surprising was that elements of some Canadian trade unions joined in these so-called Tamil protests. As Canadians we all know that the Tigers have been violent against their own people. Their record on humanitarian issues and human rights is terrifying. Perhaps the Canadian trade unions should remind themselves of how the Tigers have evicted the Muslims of northern Sri Lanka from their homes, conscripted child soldiers, and deployed suicide bombers, among other crimes. If the trade union officers truly believe in the rights of ordinary Tamils, they should declare that the Tigers are wrong to prevent Tamil civilians from moving freely in the Wanni.
As Canadians, we are privileged to be able to access the facts before we involve ourselves with any international humanitarian crisis. Certainly, it makes sense for trade unions to support struggles against oppression. At the same time, however, they should be careful about becoming involved with oppressors. We have not only the right to protest, but also the responsibility to stand up for principles like freedom of speech, freedom of movement, and respect for human rights. By speaking for these values, we can save not only our own democracy, but also many other democracies.
True support of civilians in Sri Lanka requires us to look at the whole picture: the hard truth of not only what damage their government has done, but also the Tigers’ heinous violations. Only then we can hold hands and walk toward real democratic values together. That would be the kind of solidarity that the suffering people of northern Sri Lanka need.
Namu Ponnambalam, a Tamil journalist and community activist, is a member of the steering committee of the Sri Lanka Democracy Forum. A resident of Canada for the past two decades, he is the son of the late V. Ponnambalam, a leader of the Communist Party of Sri Lanka.
Read more about the conflict in Sri Lanka: