The commanders are
not forgotten and should not be either.
Less frequently mentioned but more resistant to forgetting than the vast
majority who died, are the exceptionally brave.
Among them, of course, is Corporal Gamini Kularatne of Hasalaka, better
known as Hasalaka Gamini, who single-handedly thwarted an LTTE assault on
Elephant Pass by jumping into an advancing attack vehicle and blowing himself
up.
There was Captain Saliya Upul Aladeniya, who stopped an
entire armoury falling into the hands of the terrorists by exploding it and
himself. Colonel Fazli Lafeer, Major
Jayanath Ginimelage, Lieutenant Thilak Nissanka and others who saw death in the
face and embraced it without a second thought in order to save their fellow
fighting men, are still recalled when the word ‘hero’ is mentioned.
They did not win it all for the nation by themselves. Every man and woman who went to the
frontlines, defended villages and villagers, patrolled the seas and supported
from the skies, contributed. So too all
those who countered the myths about the LTTE’s invincibility, those who placed
faith in a political leadership that was determined to fight the good fight to
the end, and everyone who with word or deed boosted troop morale must be counted among those who contributed.
On the other hand, heroism is not the preserve of the
victors. If the LTTE proved hard to
defeat for thirty years, it is not only because of political machinations by
outside forces, treachery on the part of various key military and political figures
and relentless myth-making about LTTE-invincibility by vile academics, NGO
personalities and so-called ‘peace-activists’.
It was also because there was heroism among the LTTE cadres. Whether the struggle was justified or not,
whether they were brainwashed or not, whether they were maniacal or not, the
fact remains that the courage and sacrifice some of the LTTE cadres
demonstrated is equal to that demonstrated by the best in the Sri Lankan
fighting forces. Heroism, then, has no
caste, creed, race, ethnicity or religious affiliation. Hero is hero; heroine
is heroine.
Wars are made of heroes.
They are made of victims. People
died. Close to a hundred thousand
perished, either in combat or as victims of suicide attacks, bomb explosions,
assassinations, deliberate fire while fleeing, crossfire and indiscriminate
attacks, the last especially in the early years of the conflict.
They were all citizens of this country, even if some of them
denounced ‘nation’ and demanded and fought for a separate country. They all looked like you and I. They all had families, friends and loved
ones. They were all imperfect, but
there’s nothing to say that they were all unworthy of remembrance, undeserving
of empathy or sympathy or even admiration, if not for the cause, but the
sacrifice and bravery demonstrated in fighting for it.
It is three years now since the fighting ceased. In the three years that have passed, those
who did not envisage nor wanted the war-end outcome, those whose economic and
political interests are not served by a stable political climate and other
spoilers have spared no pains to misrepresent what happened and how it
happened. They’ve played down the
miseries forced upon Tamil civilians by an intransigent LTTE and by
Prabhakaran’s inflated ego. They’ve
deliberately fudged numbers. They’ve
taken out context. They’ve forgotten the
immense sacrifices made by the security forces in order to bring to safety some
300,000 civilians held hostage by the LTTE.
They have no eyes for exemplary humanism demonstrated by these same
forces during and after the final days of the conflict. They have retired their intelligence and
ability to compare and contrast, i.e. the Sri Lankan situation with that of
other conflicts, especially in Iraq, Afghanistan and the Middle East.
The displaced have been resettled. They’ve not moved back into mansions. They are not without problems. But then again, they can step out without
fear of losing leg and life to landmine.
Parents can send their children to school without wondering if the LTTE
would or would not abduct them and push them into a war they don’t want or are
ready to be in. They have roads. Hospitals.
Schools. Medicine. They have
hope. And, if it matters, their
situation is better than that of certain Sinhalese and Muslims in other areas
unaffected by the clash of arms but not spared by a political economy of
development skewed against certain regions.
There was a time when politics was gun-made and elections
mere exercises in dictate-following, if voting was allowed at all by the LTTE,
that is. Today there is representation.
Elected representation. Back
then, there was silent acquiescence. Now
there is vocal protest. Back then, a
monologue. Today, a dialogue. Back then,
one man’s voice; today, conversations.
Back then, there was darkness; today a determined electrification effort
that has brought light and other benefits to thousands of homes. Back then, there were ‘combatants’ deprived
of schooling, childhood and a future, forced to learn how to shoot and kill,
made to shoot and kill; today the vast majority of them have reintegrated into
their communities as civilians, empowered with education and marketable
skills.
There was a time when Colombo was a besieged city, a time
when the entire country was paralyzed by threat of terrorist attack. That was a time when the barricades and
checkpoints that dotted the cityscape were mirrored in the consciousness of
being, sorry, surviving.
That’s all gone now.
Today, we are not yet the reconciled polity that we would
all like to be, but we are far more closer to that place than we were in May
2009. Today we can ask for ‘grievance
without the frills of political expedience’ and the aggrieved cannot say ‘first
let’s have a ceasefire’. Today the
aggrieved can say ‘let’s talk’, and the Government cannot say ‘get your boys to
stop attacks on civilian targets’. Today
there is space. Back then, there was not.
Today, there is one place that no citizen with any desire
for peace and life would want to revisit: the 30 or so years that came before
May 18, 2009. And that, I believe,
ladies and gentlemen, is something that we can be happy about, something we can
and perhaps should celebrate. In the
name of all those who died, all those who suffered, all those who did not
arrive at this ‘today’ and those who must inhabit the long ‘tomorrow’ of post
May 18, 2009 Sri Lanka.
0 comments:
Post a Comment