Since the end of the war in 2009, Eelam Tamils across the world have increasingly embraced their identity and the politics that are intrinsic to it. Kilmisha Yaazhisai from the north-east, who recently won a popular Tamil Nadu singing competition, and Maithreyi Ramakrishnan from Canada, who is now a household name due to her successful Netflix show, are two emblematic examples of how Eelam Tamils have taken ownership of their identity and use their platforms to highlight the injustices Tamils face. Tamil nationalism as resistance is thriving and will continue to dominate Tamil politics for the foreseeable future. Tamil nationalist mobilisation, across borders and continents, has kept Sri Lanka on the international agenda, particularly around issues of justice and accountability for atrocity crimes. Sri Lanka is discussed as a problem that requires solving, from Geneva to DC, from London to Delhi, and Tamil nationalists are right in the mix participating in these processes. Tamil mobilisation has kept the state from returning to the worst version of itself – not out of goodwill but out of fear of an international backlash, ill-afforded during the near-constant state of crisis Sri Lanka has been in. One of the key things impelling the international community to continue to take seriously the conflict in Sri Lanka is a principled Tamil nationalist polity, one that is rooted in the demands for justice and accountability and rejection of Sinhala-Buddhist primacy.
It is in this political context that the Global Tamil Forum participated in a dialogue with Buddhist clergy in Nepal earlier this year, which led to a much-publicised tour of Sri Lanka this month. The declaration was handed over to various members of civil society, political leaders, and diplomats, in carefully planned photo-ops. These efforts remain disconnected from the wider Tamil polity, which remains firmly committed to nationalist principles and continues to defy Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy.
There is not much Himalayan about this declaration. It’s a fairly hollow document, which on one hand doesn’t challenge Sinhala-Buddhist hegemony and on the other, lowers the Tamil political bar even further than the Tamil National Alliance has done since the end of the war. This will, once again, allow the Sri Lankan State to point towards engagement with some fringe actors, in an attempt to assuage the international push for accountability and a political solution. The State’s argument has consistently been that the push for accountability and justice for mass atrocities harms reconciliation efforts. The GTF just handed the Government another reason to drag their feet on accountability and political reforms.
The root causes of the conflict are not complicated and the legitimacy of Tamil grievances is largely uncontested outside Sri Lanka. In brief, after the country’s independence in 1948, the majority Sinhala population pursued a nation-building project that privileged Sinhala-Buddhism and Sinhala Buddhists. Other groups, such as Eelam Tamils, Malaiyaha Tamils and Muslims faced discrimination. The Eelam Tamil political leadership, with the support of its population, pushed back against the building of a Sinhala-Buddhist ethnocratic state. This fostered a strong national and political identity as Eelam Tamils, the mere existence of which became the biggest obstacle to the Sinhala-Buddhist ethnocracy that was being built. This in turn gave the Sri Lankan leadership enough of a reason to embark on a genocidal campaign to crush Tamil resistance to Sinhala-Buddhist hegemony. From the Sinhala-Only Act of 1956 to President Wickremesinghe’s order to the police last month to crack down on Tamil Heroes’ Day commemorations, the Sri Lankan State seeks to subjugate Tamils, often violently, within a broader Sri Lankan nation, with “minorities” forced to accept the supremacy of Sinhala-Buddhism and not “demand undue things”, to quote Sarath Fonseka. Till this day this conflict – supremacy and the resistance to it – remains the core contestation in Sri Lanka and the one that will continue to prevent stability and co-existence on the island.
Till this day this conflict – supremacy and the resistance to it – remains the core contestation in Sri Lanka and the one that will continue to prevent stability and co-existence on the island
Broadly speaking, there are three ways this can go. One, Sri Lanka becomes a truly pluralist island, with multiple national entities that can fulfil their own collective aspirations without encroaching on the rights of others. This is the option that Tamils have aspired to since independence. Two, the status quo continues, with no accountability for mass atrocity and no political settlement. Sinhala Buddhist supremacy and Tamil resistance to it will continue to clash, resulting in ever-increasing tensions and furthering instability. Three, Eelam Tamils accept the primacy of Sinhala-Buddhism in Sri Lanka and State impunity for mass atrocities, in return for some sort of settlement. They will be tolerated but will continue to be at the whims of the majority, as evidenced by continuing discrimination and even violence against Muslims and Malaiyaha Tamils. This is the manifest destiny of Sri Lanka’s State-building project, enacted by all major Sinhala parties.
Most reasonable people know that the status quo is unsustainable and will lead to escalation, but it is also the most likely to continue, given current developments. One would think it would be common sense to push for option one, the best possible solution for all on the island. But what is essentially touted by some sections of the international community and a few Tamils like GTF and leaders of the TNA as the most “pragmatic” option is option three, with the hope that some day it may lead to option one. But option three expects Eelam Tamils to accept Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy, willingly embrace second-class status, forget the atrocity crimes that occurred and be grateful that the harm faced today moment isn’t as bad as it was in 1983 or 2009.
For large sections of the Tamil people this subjugated existence is already reality, particularly for those who live in the south of the country, living at the whim of the majority. While in the north-east there is some defiance against the State’s repression and observations of commemorations and anti-Government protests, this isn’t an option for those outside the Tamil homeland. Eelam Tamils in the south do not claim the south in that way – it is not their homeland where they will risk resisting the State. Tamil economic survival in Colombo after the pogroms of Black July in 1983, which saw the majority of Tamil businesses in the capital decimated, naturally meant the acceptance of some level of second-class status, more so than in the north-east.
Eelam Tamils live in an abusive relationship with Sri Lanka, from which the only respite is the prospect of justice for atrocities and a restructuring of the Sri Lankan State. It is the confrontation of Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy by Tamil nationalism that has prevented the State from fulfilling its manifest destiny – a country in which Sinhala Buddhism reigns supreme and Tamils have their nationhood violently dismantled.
Just to be clear, having a dialogue in itself is not the issue. There must be dialogue with political parties, civil society, and clergy of all religions. But dialogue must be meaningful and not just a kumbaya exercise. Successive Governments have used the intransigence of the Buddhist clergy to cover up for their own lack of political will to enact meaningful reforms, including during the peace talks in the early 2000s. It was Sinhala nationalist politics which elevated the Buddhist clergy to this status. The monks were a convenient tool deployed when necessary to counter perceived threats to Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy, including Tamil demands, but also efforts at increased economic cooperation and connectivity with India and Tamil Nadu. The clergy is fundamentally politicised and used by Sinhala politicians as convenient. Therefore, unless there is political will within the Sri Lankan State, these exercises are meaningless.
And that brings us to the central problem with GTF’s efforts. They undermine the possibilities for change in Sri Lanka by lowering the bar to such an extent that it is counterproductive for the bare minimum to happen – accountability for mass atrocities and the pushback against an ethnocratic state. By posing with those seriously implicated in atrocity crimes, such as Mahinda Rajapaksa and Chandrika Kumaratunga, GTF demeans the demands of Tamil survivors and victims of the war, particularly those of the families of the disappeared. The Buddhist clergy and Sinhala politicos will happily pose for pictures with GTF because they know Tamils are a powerful threat to Sinhala supremacy and believe this will help defuse Tamil advocacy efforts in the international fora.
Like the TNA’s and GTF’s engagement with the Yahapalana Government after 2015, all this declaration will do is provide the Sri Lankan State with a fig leaf to push back against internationalised demands for accountability, justice, and a sustainable political solution, by arguing that a parallel reconciliation effort is ongoing. But the Tamil polity is full of seasoned and articulate activists who know how to deal with these arguments, as illustrated by the unanimous show by a diverse range of Tamil actors in the north-east and across the diaspora, in rejecting these efforts.
This type of engagement isn’t novel. Those who are participating and those who are enthusiastically cheering the efforts on from the side-lines, are the same actors and states who in naïve hopefulness bought into the Ranil-Siri Yahapalana moment. Throughout Sri Lanka’s history, sections of the Tamil elite have repeatedly attempted to eke out concessions from the majoritarian state, in return for the abandonment of core Tamil principles. They all failed. This type of elite actor craves legitimacy and acknowledgment of status. The lower the political bar, the more acknowledgment and appreciation they receive from powerful international players, such as the US government, but also within Sri Lanka.
Posing for pictures with accused war criminals such as Mahinda Rajapaksa or Chandrika Kumaratunga is in their eyes a badge of honour, a recognition of their importance. But the problem is that every time Tamils lower their bar, Sri Lanka lowers it even further. When Tamils demanded a separate state, the State said it wanted federalism. When Tamils demanded federalism, the State said it won’t go beyond the limited provincial devolution of the 13th Amendment. Now that a few Tamil groups ask for full implementation of the 13th Amendment, the State is speaking about “13 minus”, an even weaker form of devolution.
While the GTF and ITAK (and members of the international community) seem to prefer the path of least resistance, it’s an unconscionable expectation that Eelam Tamils willingly choose subjugation. A pluralist island is feasible.
Since 1948, the Sinhala majority’s utter lack of political will to engage in a frank dialogue about the root causes of conflict even amongst themselves, let alone with Tamils, remains the biggest obstacle to peace in Sri Lanka. The hollowness of this declaration is evidence of that. Let’s not make a mountain range out of this mole hill
The problem is that the GTF and the TNA’s (ITAK)leadership don’t have the will and vision to embrace and exert the political power Tamils have, because it would mean confronting not just the Sri Lankan State but also those sections of the international community which over the years have come to accept Sri Lanka as a “manageable problem”. This was made clear during the Yahapalana Government when the TNA again and again would support the coalition unconditionally, including during the coup attempt in 2018. Their reasoning at the time was that they wanted to prevent a return of the Rajapaksas. But, alas, a year later the Rajapaksas returned anyway.
To sum up, there is nothing Himalayan about this declaration. It will go the same way as the Yahapalana engagement and any other time some elite Tamils lowered their bar to such an extent that it does not present a challenge to Sinhala-Buddhist hegemony and thus is easy for the monks and the Sinhala politicians to smile and be photographed with. The folly lies in the TNA’s and the GTF’s belief that they know better than the majority of other Tamil actors but also better than generations of Tamil leaders before them.
Both the former TNA leader and the GTF spokesperson claimed that such an initiative is unprecedented, with Sampanthan even saying, “We should have done this many years ago” and “We are years behind you”. This is patently false and deeply disrespectful to the many years of Tamil efforts at dialogue. Sampanthan may have forgotten his own outreach to the clergy during the ceasefire, which was fruitless. From the Jaffna Youth Congress, to the Banda-Chelva pact, from the ceasefire, to the TNA’s unconditional support to the Yahapalana Government, the Tamil path of resistance is littered with the corpses of such initiatives – all of them much more significant than this one.
Thousands of lives on both sides could have been saved if peaceful Tamil efforts over the decades were reciprocated by the south. Since 1948, the Sinhala majority’s utter lack of political will to engage in a frank dialogue about the root causes of conflict even amongst themselves, let alone with Tamils, remains the biggest obstacle to peace in Sri Lanka. The hollowness of this declaration is evidence of that. Let’s not make a mountain range out of this mole hill.
(The writer is a Phd Candidate, Dept. of Politics and International Studies, SOAS, University of London)
