The climate in Sri Lanka is generally wetter in the southwest and drier in the northeast, with a perpetual cycle of monsoons and inter-monsoon periods marking the seasons. An interesting feature of the weather, pointed out by many Sri Lankans, is that there are separate monsoons for either side of the island due to its position between the Indian Ocean and the Bay of Bengal. These variable monsoon winds bring rain to the northeast between December and March, while favoring the southwest between May and October. Inter-monsoon periods occur during the transitions with a breezy mix of sunny days and evening thundershowers in most parts of the island. In times of relative political calm, these seasons are also marked by a rotation of tourists seeking clear skies and surfers following the breaks off shore.

While May should be the hottest period for Colombo preceding the southwest monsoon rains, this year has been unusual with early rains almost every evening since April, which has also led to increased flooding in some area. As the nights cool only slightly compared to the days, the Hill Country provides a unique escape from the heat. Due to its elevation the Hill country harbors a much cooler climate year-round. At a polar extreme from the tropical coasts, during December and January temperature regularly drop to frigid lows at night causing people to bundle up with multiple layers of clothes, along with the possibility of a morning frost on the ground.

Since the entrance of civil society, the lawyers for the SLA and the police Special Task Force (STF) have become more restrained in their open hostility towards witnesses whose testimony incriminates the state security forces, but apparently threatening tactics persist. It has been noticed that these state counsels routinely begin with questioning that essentially demonstrate to the witnesses that everything about them is well know. Such as by asking confirmation of the witnesses’ occupation, home address, and the names and locations of family members and close relatives. On one occasion, counsel also employed elaborate theatrics. In front of the witness on the stand, a uniformed military intelligence officer delivered a video cassette sealed in plastic bag to the counsel’s table. Counsel then waved the video cassette at the witness and generally stated that there was surveillance footage relevant to present investigation; therefore the witness should consider his testimony carefully as he might be recorded in the video.

The lawyers present from civil society challenged this as an implicit threat, but it also highlights the danger witnesses and their families face in their daily lives at home when beyond the attention of the CoI. Not surprisingly a number of the witnesses have informed the CoI they have been extorted not to testify. Unfortunately the CoI lacks any real capacity to provide protection besides asking the media not to publish information regarding the witnesses’ identities. Vulnerable witnesses are thereby forced into a dreadful balance of sacrificing either justice or possibly their lives to secure the other.

The presence of legal counsel appearing at the CoI Sessions on behalf of civil society along with counsel for the affected families has greatly improved the examination of witnesses to the events immediately surrounding the killings under inquiry. CoI’s official counsel, lawyers on loan from the Attorney General’s office, lead the presentation of evidence in the Muttur-ACF case, but at critical times they have noticeably limited their examination of key witnesses, such as those from the security forces, on specific details. At these points in the case, the independent counsels are essential for pressing the questions that might go beyond a bare implication of one armed force or another, towards also obtaining identification of individual perpetrators.

It remains an open question whether the CoI will be able bring undeniable evidence finally out into the light; nonetheless the families continue to express hope in discovering the truth behind their loved ones’ deaths and seek a long awaited fulfillment of justice.

Sri Lanka hangs at an uneasy nexus of intertwined inflationary pressures. Incredibly, neighboring countries that presently far surpass Sri Lanka in wealth, such as Singapore, once looked to this island as a model society; but with each year the prolonged conflict draws more resources away from national development. Internal strife and a struggling domestic economy also compound with critical dependencies. Sri Lanka remains virtually bare of known or developed petroleum resources and, with agriculture focused primarily on cash crops such as tea and palm oil, now reportedly imports 80% of its rice. Increasingly global demand for these basic goods encounters global supplies restricted by primarily human design whether in the form other nations’ wars or export limits.

The tangible result across the island has been ever increasing prices month to month. Gasoline rates are evident in bus fare hikes and higher average trishaw charges. The cost of rice can be felt in the daily lunch parcels with smaller portions of rice prepared by restaurants trying to resist visible price mark ups. The inflated costs of living are directly discovered at markets and grocery stores when finding new stickers covering originally marked prices and at times even one sticker over another.

From the position of an individual with relative financial and food security the creep is noticeable but only a slight adjustment of habits; whereas for many families previously stretched thin and responsible for multiple mouths, there hangs the immense uncertainty of when the progressive tolls will become an unmanageable crisis. With the least well off and most desperate already poised at this breaking point.

The shared holiday of “Singhalese – Tamil New Year” stretches over two days with April 13 marked as the new year’s day and April 12 as “the day before New Year”, or also know as new year’s eve. The origins of this Sri Lanka holiday are predominantly Buddhist – Hindu, but some Christians and Muslims, as well as the occasional foreigner, also take part in the traditions. The central customs comprise preparing for a fresh start of the new year. These preparations generally include cleaning the house, shopping for new cloths, and selecting a new earthenware pot in which to cook the first meal of the year. This year the lucky/beneficial colors to wear and to adorn the home are red and yellow. Auspicious timing also holds great importance for opening the new year, such as, final bathing for the old year should take place on Saturday; precisely 5:54 pm on Sunday marks the proper time for lighting the home’s hearth or stove; and the ideal first meal of the new year should be partaken at 8:10 pm.

The two days marking the new year commonly fall during the week and people, businesses, and government typically would take off the entire week in which it falls; so this year caused some holiday planning confusion because both days fell squarely on the weekend. As a result, some people have elected for an extra day off before the weekend, others an extra day off after, and a few are even determined to take both extra days or even more. Normally many people return to their hometowns and welcome in the new year with extended family, or the more economically well-off might take other family vacations with Nuwara Eliya as a favorite destination to enjoy the cooler Hill Country climate. However, this year people are noticeably curtailing both choices owning to only have an extended weekend rather then a whole week of new year’s holiday.

At the beginning of March, the CoI began concurrent public sessions of inquiry into Case No. 2 concerning the killing of seventeen local aid workers of the international non-governmental organization Action Contra La Faim (ACF) on or about 4th August 2006. Along with several other international aid organizations, ACF worked to provide medical and health related assistance within the Eastern Province through locally hired staff at a main office in Trincomaee and a smaller office in nearby Muttur. Both of these areas were under control of Sri Lanka Army (SLA) and other security forces, but remained perilously close to the active military front. On August 1st, 2006 the LTTE launched a large scale attack on the city, breaking through SLA lines, and managed to temporarily seize control of Muttur. The SLA staged a counter-attack and a few days later succeeded in regaining control of the town.

As occurs with any military campaign, numerous civilian deaths and massive displacement of residents living in the town and outlying areas accompanied this fierce struggle for dominance. When the fighting subsided at the end of the week, one particularly gruesome loss of life discovered was the bodies of all seventeen Muttur staff members lined up within the ACF office courtyard in two rows. From these circumstances and in light of additional details, it became undeniable that these local humanitarians had been deliberately executed. Each side to the battle denied any responsibility and wholly blamed the other, but witness testimony before the CoI has provided mounting evidence that these wanton deaths occurred after the Government forces regained control of Muttur, thereby indicating their culpability.

An ancillary issue raised by the Government at the time of the killing, and again during the CoI, has been the question of whether ACF failed to reasonably protect the security of its staff members. From the onset and over the course of the fighting, the staff members trapped in Muttur were in continual contact by mobile phones and shortwave radios with the main ACF office across the bay. According to witness testimony the ACF management in Trincomalee instructed the Muttur staff to stay put in the office compound and await evacuation, in accordance with ACF’s standard security procedure. Following the killings, many Sri Lankans questioned the prudence of these instructions and also whether every effort was made to evacuate the Muttur staff. ACF for its part paid the slain staff’s families compensation but steadfastly disclaimed any negligence.

Certainly primary responsibility lies with the perpetrators who executed seventeen civilians in cold blood, but it may also be another warning of a still all-too-commonplace naivety that an international NGO name will protect both local and international staff members from any harm, no matter the danger.

Civil society faces an uphill struggle in challenging the current human rights situation in Sri Lanka to defend against widespread violations and elevate a respect for human rights. These efforts seek not only to expose and redress individual violations but also to reverse the general culture of impunity that permits the prevalence of terrible abuses that take place. After careful consideration a group of seven local human rights organization decided to apply for joint Full Standing before the CoI under Section 16 of the CoI Act of 1948. This Group of Seven (Go7) applied for and was granted standing on Monday, 24th March 2008. The following civil society members comprise the Go7 before the CoI: Center for Policy Alternatives (CPA); Home for Human Rights (HHR); INFORM; Law and Society Trust (LST); Mothers and Daughters of Lanka; Rights Now – Collective for Democracy; and Sri Lankan National Jurist Commission.

The CoI holds Session of Inquire for six hours a day, three days a week and members of Sri Lanka’s civil society are now pulling together more than ever to ensure fair and independent alternative legal counsel at the CoI Sessions and lead a joint front within broader society to represent the shared interests of human rights. The volume of investigation records and reports that the Go7 has received through just one week of disclosure from the CoI has been staggering and diligent efforts are underway to thoroughly review every page.

On January 5th, 2008, the CoI began holding public sessions of inquiry into Case No. 5 concerning the killing of five youths and the near death of two other youths in Trincomalee on or about 2nd January 2006. These past couple weeks IIGEP, as one of their last duties, has been working with the CoI to conduct the presentation of evidence via video-teleconference from witnesses to the events in Trincomalee who have since fled to other countries. Even while residing outside of Sri Lanka, the witnesses’ locations have been kept confidential by IIGEP to ensure their security and the CoI has agreed to disallow any questions that might lead to a breach of this confidentiality.

As the first time ever for evidence via video-teleconference in any sort of official hearing in Sri Lanka, and perhaps reflecting the low public expectations regarding the CoI, initially these sessions seemed to attract more attention due to this novelty than the eye witnesses themselves. Subsequently however the vivid testimony has captured increasing interest. The first two witnesses were both fathers of two of the young boys killed. From independent points of view, each fathers told how they searched the streets after hearing a nearby explosion and being unable to contact their sons that night. While stopped at a security checkpoint one father was in a position to hear a prolonged burst and see the flashes of gunfire, but oddly the checkpoint personnel remained completely at ease. The second father was also stopped nearby and heard his son shouting out for help immediately before a thunder of gunshots. Both fathers feared for the worst and immediately went to the hospital, where they found their sons’ bodies. Reliving the final evening of their sons’ lives in considerable detail took a noticeable physical and mental toll on the two fathers with one weeping openly and the other more quiet but visibly struggling with the raw emotions.

A third witness withdrew at the last minute prior to testifying. This witness, who is one of two survivors from that night, rather offered a written statement which told that a hand grenade had been thrown at the seven boys as they talked at the beach front square. This witness was seriously injured by the grenade’s explosion and lost consciousness. He regained consciousness only at the hospital and found another injured friend lying next to him. The witness recounted asking what happened and his only surviving friend said that after the grenade attack members of the security Special Task Force (STF) quickly arrived and dragged them into the back of a truck where they were callously beaten. As further related by the second survivor, the STF then threw the boys out of the truck and deliberately fired into the group as they lay helplessly on the street.

While all the witnesses explicitly stated they received repeated threats against their families and their lives following the killings which coerced them into silence, the lawyers representing the STF at the Sessions sought to emphasis that no incriminating accusations were ever made during the initial police investigation or judicial hearings. Thus, despite the direct implication of the security forces operating with total control in Trincomalee, the STF argued the testimonies are complete fabrications and directly accused the witnesses of maliciously lying now that they can not effectively prosecuted for perjury.

In November 2006, the Presidential Commission of Inquiry to Investigate and Inquire into Alleged Serious Violations of Human Rights (CoI) was established under the Commissions of Inquiry Act of 1948. The CoI holds a mandate to examine all cases of alleged human rights abuse in Sri Lanka that have occurred since August 1, 2005 with specific reference made to sixteen grievous cases, but the mandate also limits CoI as solely a fact finding process with no prosecutorial or adjudicative powers. Ultimately it can only recommend further action to the President.

Shortly thereafter in January 2007, the President invited the formation of an International Independent Group of Eminent Persons (IIGEP) composed of various legal practitioners to observe the CoI and make recommendations for changes in accord with international norm and standards for investigations into human rights violations. The IIGEP expressed concern regarding several issues that undermine the CoI’s independence. First and foremost, although a few prominent and independent attorneys function as counsel from the “unofficial bar”, CoI’s panel of counsel from the “official bar” is composed entirely of lawyers on loan from the Attorney General’s offices. This arrangement raises a conflict of interests in that allegation of government misconduct are essentially being investigated by other interlinked government officials. Another point of concern arises from the CoI’s budget being controlled directly by the President’s office with the CoI’s proper functioning reportedly being hampered by a lack of adequate resources. Due to persistent shortcomings such as these and their recommendations of remedies being ignored, the members of the IIGEP recently announced their unanimous decision to withdraw as observers within the next month.

From the very start the public and the media have paid scant attention to the CoI’s existence or functioning in large part because the many view the CoI as primarily a public relations campaign unlikely to have any actual impact on protecting human rights or furthering justice, but also because the sessions of inquiry were initially all conducted behind closed doors. However, since the start of this year the CoI chose to hold all of its sessions of inquiries open to the public. As of yet, these public inquires have still not lead to a groundswell of public interest in the proceedings, but from observing the most recent sessions it appears that some interest may be returning.

Local elections for Batticaloa and surrounding areas will be held on Monday, March 10th, 2008. The LTTE lost military control of the East last year and these will be the first elections in the region presided over by the Government. One hundred and one local posts are open for election and shortly after the close of the nomination period a group of international election monitors, invited by the Government as neutral observers, certified the overall situation around Batticaloa as suitable for free and fair elections. Having heard reports to the contrary directly from people in the region, a group of local public interest organizations undertook an independent visit.

As documented in their joint report, these members of civil society talked with a broad range of people and groups in the election areas. Rather than tranquility, they encountered a climate of fear and heard a disturbing range of human rights violations. These problems seemed to chiefly arise from a tenuous security situation between the various paramilitary in the region who are each backing their own fields of election candidates. At the press conference for the report, the members of the independent visit recommended that the scheduled elections be suspended until the paramilitaries are completely disarmed and additional safeguards ensured. Along with attendance by local and international media, politicians, and diplomats, the state intelligence agency also inquired about those who had organized the report and press conference.

In the wake of this challenging report a number of canidates came forward to the Election Commission with complaints about the violent threats they faced. The international monitors also took notice of additional complaints and issued another report which suggested reforms partially reflecting the joint civil society recommendations, but not calling for a cancellation of the elections. Despite, or perhaps because of, the increasing questions about the elections, the Government summarily denounced the joint civil society report as a nefarious effort to suppress citizens’ political freedom to vote and slander the ruling government in foreign affairs. What motive these representatives or civil society as a whole would have for such alleged intentions was left unclear. Whatever the impact of the present elections, it remains doubtless that a free and fair future will only be possible though sustained, committed effort on the part of both government and society, but cooperation seems in short supply.

By their very nature non-profit organizations are persistently concerned with the need for continual fundraising to ensure the sustainability of the services they provide at little or no cost to their beneficiaries. While private donations play an important role, for the most part operating expenses are met through long-term grants from various public and private institutions. In order to diversify their sources of financial support, organizations also frequently compete for short and mid-term funding through writing and submitting proposals for projects designed to accomplish one or more specific goals. But while some form of outside support is vital for nearly all non-profit organizations, an implicit association comes with accepting outside funding which could call into question an organization’s independence.

Organizations in Sri Lanka need to be particularly careful in regards to funding with even the slightest appearance of foreign influence. In recent months a number of politicians and government ministers have been hurtling all manner of accusations at virtually anything with an international connection. The general refrain proclaims with shrill alarm that international non-governmental organizations want to re-colonize Sri Lanka and local organizations have all been bought through grants by sinister foreign influences. In fact NGO’s might be even more heavily regulated than for-profit business within Sri Lanka by being required to submit to the government detailed annual audits of all funding and expenditures, but apparently humanitarian aid and the civil sector remain among the foremost threats to national politics.

Even a conspicuously benign organization such as the United Nations Children’s Fund (UNICEF) was condemned for supposedly supplying the LTTE with military support based on the “evidence” of keeping emergency food ratio at their field offices. Other eminent institutions face dire accusations of “undermining national sovereignty” for debating the appropriateness of international intervention as one possible resolution of the ongoing conflict. While any person with even a passing knowledge of world politics knows that governments often seek to exert “spheres of influence,” one still wonders about the political accusers’ own motives for vilifying any non-state actors in domestic affairs.

Although it might not be expected at first, it seems that everyone in Sri Lanka knows family or friends living in other countries for various reasons. Some people have fled from the conflict either as direct refugees from war torn areas or after being threatened into an unofficial exile. Most people though chose to travel abroad seeking personal development and economically secure futures.

As with other developing countries the local wages are much lower than the standards of the United States and Europe. A sliver of society are wealth by any standard, but most families scrape by earning only a few dollars a day, and even typical middle class salaries start at under two hundred dollars a month. In small part this might be attributed to a lower cost of living, but increasingly inflation has been undercutting families’ economic stability and remittances, money sent from relatives abroad, can be of vital support. Along with inflationary concerns, the conflict has severely impacted the national economy especially with regards to tourism and foreign investment which have plummeted. The skyrocketing military budget and domestic insecurity also depletes any efforts at internal development, as reflected by the faltering pace of community reconstruction following the devastating Tsunami on December 26, 2004.

As a result of these combined factors the increasing commonality of migration cuts across all classes and social groups. Every year women and men from lower income families journey to the Middle East and wealthier Asian countries as domestic workers and day laborers. England and India are frequent destinations for university students who can afford to earn their degrees abroad. And experienced practitioners of all professions work in distant lands covering every region of the world. Some of these people settle down permanently in their new countries, but many more travel internationally on a semi-permanent basis with an eventual return to Sri Lanka or else frequently splitting their residence after acquiring dual nationality. The family and social occasions that mark these now commonplace departures and returns seem to have become ingrained as a modern facet of traditional culture.

Two weeks ago Sri Lanka commemorated its independence from the British in 1948 with annual National Day celebrations on February 4 that assumed particular significance as 2008 hallmarked the island’s 60th year of independence. Few things, if any, escape polarization in the context of the island’s decades long conflict and the celebratory atmosphere also blended with politics. Stickers appearing on public transportation and billboards through Colombo displayed large maps of Sri Lanka in 2005 and 2007 outlining the territory seized back from the LTTE by the military with a final map confidently projecting complete control in 2008. In contrast, some people privately expressed the grievance that the official ceremonies only presented a Sinhalese exclusive nationalism as a mere replacement to the British crown in subjugating other ethnic identities.

Along with political zeal, violence against civilians also spiked in the days surrounding National Day with multiple bomb attacks including a bus near Dambulla, the Colombo Fort railway station, the National Zoo in Dehiwala, and a Welioya bus. These attacks were blamed on the LTTE and were also accompanied by deadly roadside bombings of civilians in Wanni and Mannar that were attributed to Government forces operating within LTTE controlled territory.

The National Day festivities included a military review of tanks and troops on the Galle Face promenade in central Colombo with fighter jets flying overhead and a week long exhibition recounting Sri Lanka’s glorious past, present, and future. However because of the security concerns friends also observed that National Day was probably the best day of the year to stay home. After all the drama had subsided, the following week has accordingly returned to the relative but uneasy calm.

Continued from Legitimate Expectation…

The Court of Appeals issued its final judgment in favor of Mr. Appa just before adjourning at the end of 2007 and carefully detailed each element of the case upholding a legitimate expectation. In laying the legal groundwork, the Court found no evidence to support any contention that the Rs. 30,000 should be construed only as a loan and to the contrary found that written communications indicate that the past President, as head of the Ministry, intended the assistance to be an outright grant for the construction of permanent housing. The Court went on to explain that a “legitimate expectation” requires actual reliance on the part of a petitioner. In this regard the Court found that Mr. Appa had clearly relied on the promised assistance by beginning construction on a permanent house and had also relied on his specific right to the money deposited into his personal savings account by the Ministry. Therefore, while the Ministry may decide to change its “self help” policies, the Court held that “by implementing the new scheme the entitlements of the persons who fall under the earlier scheme will not get wiped out.”

The Court found that Mr. Appa had met all the established preconditions for being entitled to the house assistance and noted that because the funds for the housing assistance had already been deposited into personal saving accounts, “therefore the Respondents cannot remit that money to another fund or project.” Based on these findings and initial conclusions the Court held that Mr. Appa “has a vested right in the said sum [Rs. 30,000] deposited in his Account therefore he has a right to withdraw the said some [sic] of money in his Savings Account based on substantive legitimate expectation.” Furthermore the Court held that the Ministry officials as “public bodies performing public functions, using public funds have a public duty to grant permission to withdraw the said sum as the Petitioner has fulfilled the necessary requirement stipulated by the Respondents.” The Court therefore quashed the decision to end implementation of the 2001 “self help” housing scheme and ordered the Ministry to grant permission for Mr. Appa to withdraw the monies deposited in his Bank savings account.

Continued from Help Withdrawn…

Dismayed by the letter from the Ministry Mr. Appa contacted the Home for Human Rights (HHR) for assistance and the Legal Desk undertook pro bono legal representation on his behalf. Mr. Appa filed a petition with the Court of Appeals for writs of certiorari and mandamus less than a month later to compel the Ministry to release the Rs. 30,000 for the completion of his home’s construction. The petition argued the Ministry’s denial was arbitrary and unfair due to Mr. Appa’s “legitimate expectation” that the funds could be withdrawn for the construction of a permanent home. Claiming a legitimate expectation in opposition to the Ministry’s letter of denial would be a new application of this legal concept for the Sri Lankan court, but the claim has been well developed within English law, which the Sri Lankan courts will often refer to as a persuasive but not binding source when considering such a case of first instance.

Further support of Mr. Appa claim then came from an unexpected revelation. Documents filed with the Court of Appeals by the Ministry showed the prior sitting President authorized the “self help” scheme, allocated Rs. 125 million for the Ministry’s budget, and these funds had in fact been deposited into individual savings accounts at the Bank. However, between the first and second letters writing by Mr. Appa to the Ministry, the subsequent President decided at the end of 2004 to reallocate the funds for other “self help” schemes in the form of government loans rather than grants. Acting on this directive the Ministry requested the Bank to close the personal savings accounts and remit the entire Rs. 125 million back to the Treasury. This request was carried out with no authorization sought from the individual account holders and without any notice to the plantation workers either before or after the decision to revoke the previously granted assistance.

To be concluded next week…

Mr. Appa (not his actual name) attended a meeting convened by the President’s office through the Ministry of Estate Housing, Infrastructure and Community Development in early 2001 along with over 4,000 other tea plantation workers. These workers had been selected beforehand to receive government “self help” assistance to build permanent houses in order to raise the living conditions of tea plantation workers, who are among the poorest people in Sri Lanka. At this meeting each of the workers received Bank Savings Account Pass Books recording that Rs. 30,000 (Sri Lankan rupees) had been individually deposited in their name at the local branch of a national Bank. These pass books also contained an endorsement stating the funds could only be withdrawn with the permission of the Ministry. Mr. Appa and the other workers were informed by Ministry officials at the meeting that this endorsement would only ensure the proper use the government assistance and that the full Rs. 30,000 would be readily available to them if they undertook to construct permanent housing.

In reliance on the availability of this government assistance, Mr. Appa began construction of a permanent house on a small plot of land granted to him by the tea estate, where he had previously constructed a temporary shed for his family. After purchasing the requisite supplies and laboring on the construction, Mr. Appa sought to withdraw Rs. 10,000 from his savings account at the Bank towards the end of 2004. A bank teller consulted with the branch manager and returned the withdrawal slip to Mr. Appa with the instruction that he should seek Ministry approval for the withdrawal. Immediately Mr. Appa wrote to the Ministry explaining that the bank had declined his withdrawal and pleading for the Ministry grant its approval. The Ministry replied by mail confirming that the financial assistance remained available and stating that the withdrawal of funds from the saving account would be permitted upon documentation of membership in a community construction cooperative, possession of a available plot of land, and the progress of construction. Mr. Appa responded with the requested documentation and again plead for approval of the withdrawal, noting with urgency that his family was without housing as his temporary shed had been damaged by a mudslide due to recent heavy rain. Inexplicably the Ministry wrote back in mid 2005 with one sentence “This scheme is not under implementation.” The Ministry offered no explanation.

To be continued next week…

The conflict in Sri Lanka has periodically intensified and abated over the past two decades and all the while people continue to observe the various stages of life that steadfastly follow through the years. In my brief time in Sri Lanka thus far I have been fortunate to witness a few of these remarkable occasions with my current companions.

One of my first such occasions also marked one of the earliest moments of life. Shortly after I first arrived in Sri Lanka a friend invited me to attend a traditional celebration held at the beginning of the ninth month of pregnancy. Inside the family’s home, the expecting mother rested on a chair at the center of the living room and the couple’s parents placed tray after tray of fruits, coconuts, sweets, other prepared treats, and flowers on the ground around her, filling the room until there hardly remained space to enter. The family also lit a star shaped oil lamp with wicks burning at each of the points; such a lamp has an odd number of five, seven, or nine points and might be found at any ceremonious occasion. Friends and extended family then came to congratulate the family and wish good health for the expected child with the flow of well wishers lasting nearly from dawn until midday. Food was also offered to their guests and all joined in an endless feast of rice and innumerable varieties of curry. By the day’s end the couple naturally seemed a bit fatigued, but they still beamed from the flood of affectionate attention.

Similarly when one of the office’s senior lawyers announced the wedding of his youngest daughter, he warmly included me on the guest list; and as a prominent member of the community there were also several hundred other guests in attendance. Numerous elaborate religious rituals and blessings composed the ceremony, which from an outside perspective seemed akin to a grand theatrical production, including: the meeting of the bride and groom, an exchange of blessings by the parents, a dress change by the bride midway through, cracking multiple coconuts, burnt incense and offerings, and a resplendent array of flowers. The precise moment of nuptial unity was carefully timed and marked by the fastening of a gold pendant around the woman’s neck, accompanied by a great cheer, a fanfare of horns and drums, and a copious shower of flower petals. As with much of human affairs, food also played a role in making fond memories with potions of a richly sweet and slightly sticky wedding cake being served during the ceremony along with soft drinks. At the end of the wedding, all the attendees lined up in procession to personally congratulated the newly weds and offer their own blessing. The procession then proceeded directly to a banquet hall for a very satisfying reception.

Marking life’s final destination over this past weekend, I attend the funeral of another senior colleague’s brother who recently died of cancer. Family and close friends mourned at the funeral, but my colleague and friend also talked about the life he had shared with his brother. He came from a large family of ten children, although some died at a young age, and now they were down to five living siblings. Their family lived outside the northern city of Jaffna and growing up there my friend worked in the family field even from a very young age. His older siblings had supported his higher studies at the university, and upon beginning to work after graduation my friend in turn helped to put his brother and each of the other younger siblings though school. In spite of the ensuing difficulties from the developing social turmoil, my friend and his brother managed to provide for their own families, and at the funeral the brother’s son and daughters arrived from UK, India, and Australia; his family having spread from Sri Lanka to span the globe.

These universal events mark each of our lives and when we spend them with each other, we share our pasts and our futures become irreversibly woven together.

Even though the ceasefire agreement (CFA) has already been mostly ignored by both sides, one notable change will be that the Government’s official withdrawal from the CFA also means the end of the Sri Lankan Monitoring Mission's (SLMM) mandate. The country of Norway heads this neutral institution established to observe and report on each side’s compliance with the conditions of the CFA, which in part briefly incorporated basic human rights. How this departure might impact human rights in relation to the conflict remains to be seen, but the absence of any mandated observers in the conflict zones will certainly decrease the visibility of both isolated and systematic violations of human rights.

Along with the SLMM, local organizations have documented widespread human rights violations by both sides continuing after the CFA was signed in 2002, and for the last two years the Government and the LTTE have openly resumed large scale military operations across the island. The Government now publicly champions the resumption of a peace process only after militarily achieving complete control of the island and vehemently opposing the need for any UN human rights presence. In the wake of the announced withdraw from the CFA the LTTE lambasted the Government as undermining efforts to achieve peace and requested the Norwegians remain as facilitators for a resumed peace process. However in these same public remarks, the LTTE incredulously overlooked its own military provocations and somewhat tellingly mentioned no desire for the SLMM to remain in their monitoring capacity.

It is troubling that both sides seemingly welcome only the most carefully orchestrated attention from either local or outside observers as each stokes a conflict where apparently their own ends justify any means.

Preceding the dawn of the new year every politician staked a claim that this would be the year in which they would defeat of terrorism, secure a homeland, deliver economic prosperity, attain glory, or otherwise succeed in whatever political or personal cause they happen to champion.

Unfortunately, although perhaps with sad predictability, the new year looks very much the same from the start as the year recently past. As if to leave no question of this reality, unidentified assassins gunned down a prominent Member of Parliament from the current opposition United National Party (UNP) at a Colombo area temple on New Year’s Day; the attack also killed one other person in the spray of bullets while wounding 12 more. On the second day of the year a remotely detonated bomb blasted a Sri Lankan Army bus in central Colombo which killed four and injured 24 military personal and civilians. Subsequently, the Government announced its formal withdrawal from the ceasefire agreement signed with the LTTE in 2002, a truce long ago abandoned de facto by both sides. Both of these attacks stirred many voices from all circles of society to discuss the import for the coming year; misgivings of more fruitless politics through violence, but holding on to hope for a meaningful alternative to the discord.

Later in the first week a protest march of various political and civil movements against the continuing violence accompanied the funeral for the slain MP. By chance I wound up observing as an unofficial member of the media. Police provided an escort and halted rush-hour traffic as the procession of cars, pedestrians, and the casket repeatedly surged and halted along the length of a wide city boulevard. At the cemetery, mourners dressed primarily in white pressed among the gravestone, gathering in a vacant corner where the body came to rest. The ceremony and speeches stretched through dusk into the fall of night; then the funerary pyre burned almost silently as the crowds departed.

Happy New Year!

Aurudu – Sri Lankan New Year: April 13th

As the end of the year rolls around, organizations and people rush to wrap up the previous years’ projects and to map out plans, resolutions, and goals for the new year. Fortunately there also comes a temporary and much welcome pause. All aspects of life benefit from taking a moment to reflect on what has been accomplished and what goals and challenges lay on the road ahead. This pause and reflection also allows us to reconnect with parts of life that may have been overlooked while attending to daily routines and offers a chance to rejuvenate and return to these regular lives with renew spirit.

Civil society in Sri Lanka faces the imposing challenge of cultivating the growth of alternatives to the status quo within a society where the state wields near authoritarian control interrupted only by a constant threat of violence from non-state actors. With every jolt of indiscriminate brute force, alarmed citizens and community groups shout warnings as society drags closer to a sheer plummet into measureless brutality; but these fearful words only seem to echo hollowly back from the abyss ahead. Perhaps the leaders who urge the country to this precipice have already gone over the edge following the illusions of their own words, with the mass of society only hanging on through the inert strength of combined passive resistance. How then for those who remain to take the first uneasy step back from the edge in unison?

An aspiration to share stories and connect with others persists to burn within people, who cautiously seek a safe space to commune in this precarious situation. Sharing stories that give witness to history carries not just a concern for personal safety, but also the more unnerving possibility of collective reprisal falling upon loved ones. Avowed enemies seem to act in collusion to keep the people’s memories of the past submerged and distorted in darkness; perhaps apparent recognition of these memories transformative potential. Their equal use of self-serving half-truths of oppression and terror seeks to obscure their own complicity while propagating an ominous fear of turning back from the present road to oblivion.

Yet within people the inexorable human desire to live together in peace remains strong; keep alive by a belief in commonality and compassion that holds hope for a shared future. One step in the right direction might be a concerted effort to collect, preserve, and share personal testimony from throughout society to reclaim the right to an open and sincere common history. Society will without a doubt need many following footsteps on the daunting journey to achieve a community at peace.

A few weeks ago I visited the Hill Country, a wide region roughly centered on the island and providence to innumerable tea plantations which form the nuclei of local communities and the heart of the national economy. Coming from the lazy heat and smudged concrete of costal Colombo, the Hill Country offers a refreshing contrast of chilled breezes and lush vistas. Where the many peaks and ridges eternally climb over each other, crystal threads of water emerge as if squeezed from the rocky soil and stream down pinched gullies to collect in natural and hand wrought reservoirs. The steeply inclined terrain blanketed by plantations of tea shrubs almost shimmers in the early morning mist and midday sun alike, casting an immediate enchantment over any candid spectator.

While visiting the tea estates I also had the opportunity to participate in an education program for the local plantation community on the topic of human rights. A group of local advocates hosted the open program to empower other community members with a better understanding of how human rights principles relate to everyday standards of living. Participant came from a wide variety of backgrounds representing nearly the entire spectrum of society: elementary school teachers and students, plantation labors and supervisors, parents and children. Each participant brought a personal understanding of human rights as being the basic, fundamental rights deserved by every human being for the full realization and enjoyment of their life: equal treatment within society, access to education and employment opportunities, privacy in personal and family affairs. Everyone also brought experiences of where others in public institutions or the private sector violated these simple human rights in their own lives. Growing from these roots of personal values and experience these individuals sought a common learning of generally articulated human rights standards and discussed how these standards might be incorporated into individual and community efforts to change patterns of behavior infringing on these dearly held rights.

Work on the tea plantations structures to a large degree life through the Hill Country, and in some ways reflects a microcosm of society at large. Class distinctions tie in closely with plantation roles ranging from tea pickers and tea factory workers to field supervisors and estate managers, with absentee private land owners and companies seated at the very top. As a questionable universal truth shared by every modern society, the far removed echelons reap an overwhelming share of the harvest and the comforts it provides; while the population closest to the earth toils strenuously without rest among the leaves and crags of the precipitous hillsides for a meager share that must be frugally wrung to produce a drop of life. This realization fosters a deep contrast with the dreamlike setting, as well as the daily choice in Sri Lanka of tea served with cream and sugar or plain tea.

The conflict throughout Sri Lanka seems to be fundamentally a political struggle; not in the sense of a struggle between differing ideologies within Sri Lankan society, but rather an almost exclusive struggle between politicians who claim to represent the common person. Every political party has its unofficial mouth piece in the media and together these political trumpets occupy the whole of the mainstream press. Just a few articles from any newspaper need be read before each newspaper’s afflation becomes readily apparent as only a thin veneer of journalism conceals the self aggrandizing. Even the LTTE runs a radio station openly called the “Voice of the Tigers” and a corresponding television station from within the territory under its control.

All too frequently rhetoric alone apparently does not send a strong enough message and the resort to arms has become commonplace. Anonymous threats, abductions and detentions, physical attacks, and other harassments against the news media smother the possibility of independent journalism and precipitate even more partisan mistrust. Attacks progress with each subsequent incident vying for a more dramatic impact. This trend recently reached a crescendo with a heavily armed band of unidentified individuals who stormed the offices of a mainstream newspaper, held the staff present at gunpoint, and then deliberately set fire to the printing presses before fleeing. The entire assault taking place in district specifically designated a high security zone by government security forces.

Last week the head of the LTTE, Velupillai Prabhakaran, celebrated his 53th birthday on Monday, and also pronounced his annual “Heroes Day” address on the following day, revealing perhaps a bit of egotism. The annual speech was scheduled for broadcast through the LTTE’s radio and television stations at the chosen auspicious time of 8:05 pm. In a bit of his own showmanship the President of Sri Lanka, Mahinda Rajapaksa, waited until precisely that moment; and then used aerial bombing to destroy the radio studio in Kilinochchi. This bombing of a civilian neighborhood drew criticism from the United Nations’ Secretary-General Ban Ki-moon for damaging the nearby UN World Food Programme (WFP) offices. The Associated Press (AP) also reported LTTE claims of a military roadside bomb killing eleven schoolchildren and two others in relation to the annual memorial.

This time the LTTE swiftly responded by targeting a ruling coalition Member of Parliament (MP) who is a minister in the President’s Cabinet. On Wednesday morning a bomb attack failed to kill the intended MP outside his Ministry office, but killed a staff member and the suicide attacker while wounding two other people present. As part of the full political context, the “marked” MP is a Tamil Sri Lankan himself and almost since its inception the LTTE has denounced with grim judgment any Tamil Sri Lankan who voices disagreement with the group’s aims or means as traitors to their ethnicity; here being the 13th time the same MP has been targeted for assassination.

That evening a larger bomb exploded at a popular department store in a suburb of Colombo during peak rush hour traffic, killing 17 shoppers and passersby with 36 additional people requiring medical attention. The explosion appears to have occurred when a department store security guard attempted to open a parcel checked in at the customer service counter adjacent the store’s entrance. No claims of responsibly followed and the department store may or may not have been the intended target of the bomb. Accusing the LTTE as being responsible for both bombings, the government over the weekend has been conducting numerous “cordon and search” operations throughout Colombo with estimates of Tamil Sri Lankans arrested thus far under PTA and ER laws ranging into the thousands; just being originally born in the northeast of the country presently seems to be sufficient cause for detention.

With all the political, civil, and military turmoil throughout the island, a welcome and necessary relief can be found while enjoying the simple details of life. A quick snack or shared meals can be both a chance to step away from the country’s worries for a moment and an opportunity to strengthen connections with friends and colleges. And as with many other countries in the region, Sri Lankan tastes lavishly indulge on piquant, bold flavors. Whenever stopping by someone’s home, families can be expected to serve a multitude of spicy, baked and fried, crunchy snacks somewhat akin to pretzels; and on the weekend, vendors of both green mango slices and dried banana chips generously sprinkled with chili powder hawk their treats at public parks and other outdoor attractions. In some way perhaps this choice of flavors derives from the hot tropical climate.

Most people in Sri Lanka seem to share a uniform belief that nearly all of their traditional foods are simply too spicy for foreigners to handle without breaking down into tears. While perhaps a bit of an exaggeration, chili and various curry spices do factor heavily into the local culinary culture. Fortunately, I favor fiery food and surprised my colleagues on my first day at the office when I chose to eat a standard rice and curry “lunch packet” sold at small lunch stands on nearly every other street. When we began to eat, they intently monitored my visage for the expected signs of discomfort and sat with a bottle of water at the ready.

I am familiar with searing off half my tongue’s taste receptors, and compared with typical European or North American cuisine, the curry’s main burn would easily rate as ‘hot’, just edging towards ‘very hot’. I find that the typical whole chili found in Sri Lanka and used in many varieties of local dishes initially presents with a slight sweetness progressing to a smooth, even burn. However rather than mere intensity, the local variety’s distinctiveness comes through how the spice seemingly permeates directly from the mouth to one’s bloodstream. Almost immediately sinuses begin to clear, a rush of blood can be felt on the face, and exacerbated by the perpetually heat from the beating sun, cooling beads of perspiration begin to swell on the skin’s surface. After at first preparing for the worst, my colleagues are gradually expressing less concern while we eat lunch together.

Throughout Sri Lanka and even in Colombo people must always consider the risk of being in the wrong place at wrong time. When the Government killed a top LTTE leader on Nov 2, 2007 a couple of Fridays ago everyone’s consideration of risks rose immediately to the surface of social discourse. While LTTE attacks have not historically targeted foreign or Sri Lankan civilians in Colombo, every ordinary person understood the unpredictable risk of becoming a collateral casualty when the LTTE took its expected retaliation against government or military targets. As a result, friends advise me to avoid traveling unnecessarily, while they anticipated staying at home for the weekend. People from all walks of life curtailed some social activities such as going to meet friends, but various errands must still be run and legs need to be stretched, so life persists and does not grind to a halt so easily. As a Sri Lankan friend here reminded me “We are very familiar with these risks. We have lived with them for a long time.” As with many people he speaks from experience; last year he passed through a street where not two minutes later a suicide bomber targeted a government motorcade and detonated herself.

Militant attacks are not the only risks that lie buried in the course of everyday life. The many security checkpoints could also horribly interrupt life with physical harassment or arbitrary detention, particularly for anyone with Tamil ethnicity. The transparent government suspicion attributed to all people sharing Tamil heritage acquires its official form in the laws requiring Tamil Sri Lankans, but not Sinhalese Sri Lankans, to register with the police station nearest to wherever they live. This registration includes providing proof of homeownership, or being accompanied by a landlord who agrees to takes personal responsibility for the registrant. Proof of registration should be carried at all time and many Tamil Sri Lankans cautiously avoid traveling alone at night when they might be stopped on a deserted street by suspicious soldiers or police.

Unfortunately the risk of harassment does not attach solely to travel on highways and city streets. Individuals, especially women, can also be afraid to live alone due to the possibility of police and military searches of private homes. Under the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA) which the legislature first enacted in 1979 and current Emergency Regulations (ER) established by presidential decree, the search of anyone and anywhere may be conducted without warning or warrant if support by any degree of terrorism suspicion harbored by security personnel. This registration is a fact of life for every Tamil Sri Lankan, yet it rarely comes up in conversation and when it does voices instinctively become hushed. And while the whole of Sri Lankan society knows well the force of the PTA and ER, any political criticism of these laws seem to be muted among lawmakers who might be more concerned with appearing soft on terrorism. I have lived and worked in countries with draconic security regimes but still when I first heard of this registration and the ever-present specter of warrantless home searches, I remained almost in disbelief until I had confirmed it with several independent sources.

Although the political conflict continues to escalate militarily in the North and East, with no dramatic LTTE reprisals or Government raids materializing these past few weeks in Colombo, people return to moving about and continuing life as normal, with these normal restrictions and risks.

Aside from the familiar traffic, everyday travel by Sri Lankans in Colombo and its surrounding suburbs can be frequently disrupted by the scattered “floating” checkpoints. What might be mistaken in another time or place as simple metal souvenir or lemonade stands abandoned on the side of any given road, are the tangible shadows of security checkpoints. Periodically and somewhat randomly these floating checkpoints are brought to life by the presence of three to four police or soldiers who flag down one in every few motorists. The standard questioning covers their identity papers, place of departure, present destination, and purpose for traveling. While ostensibly for protection against terrorist infiltration and attacks, these checkpoints far more frequently function essentially as a shakedown where unscrupulous traffic cops can make a lot of money. Otherwise, based on the pattern of motorists who get flagged down, it would seem that drivers of the common three wheeled taxi, ubiquitously known as tuk-tuks, comprise the single largest terrorist threat to Sri Lankan national security.

Either to maintain a clean image for tourism or as a calculated threat analysis, the security personnel at these floating checkpoints generally avoid stopping a vehicle with a visible foreign passenger. On one evening while tucked in the back seat of a three wheeled taxi, my presence seems to have initially gone unnoticed as a junior officer standing at the side of the road flagged down the taxi driver to stop. The slightly built driver pulled to the street’s edge, asked me to wait, and stepped out while reflexively reaching into his pocket. As the driver stepped onto curb, the apparent senior officer leaned slightly forward from his seat in metal stand, glanced into the small taxi’s backseat, and waved for the driver to continue on our way.

For a country that covers just 24,996 square miles (64,740 sq km) of land, an area slightly larger than West Virginia, traveling across Sri Lanka from end to end presents a greater challenge than crossing half the globe to reach this island. The many obstacles to simple internal movement place a tremendous burden on individuals, the local economy of small businesses, and the cohesion of society at large. In an extremely exaggerated reflection of airports worldwide, a quick one hour plane flight between Colombo and Jaffna actually consumes an entire day with at least eight additional hours spent navigating airport security and red tape. All of this even after days or weeks spent obtaining the prior security permit required to enter or leave Jaffna. Yet these flights are always booked to capacity, as they are one of the only remaining links between these two major cities.

Travel by sea between Trincomalee and Jaffna entails a ten hour voyage circling well off the coastline to circumvent LTTE controlled waters, as well as the six hour bus ride separating Colombo from Trincomalee. This route does offer the enticement of much less red tape at the ports, but the relative bureaucratic ease also carries the risky gamble of maritime passage being abruptly suspend without notice due to a myriad of security, weather, or political causes which could leave ships stranded in port for up to a week or more. Highways also link every major city and during the recent peace process cars and buses could easily drive back and forth between Colombo and Jaffna in under seven hours. Now with the unfortunate return of open hostilities countless security checkpoints, barricades, and zones of active conflict rule out the land journey by civilians as impossible.

The impact of the conflict in Sri Lanka on day to day routines might be hardly perceptible at times, but time reveals evidence of it across society. As might be expected, the people’s government perpetually seeks dominance in both the military fight against the LTTE (Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam) as well as in the rhetorical battle between ideologies which only serves to further fuel the conflict. The momentum of physical force constantly seesaws week by week. The week of my arrival the LTTE conducted a damaging air raid against a government air force base and now this week the government succeeded in killing a top member of the LTTE leadership. In political discourse, rationality once again becomes the first casualty. As reported on October 29, 2007 in the local newspaper the “Daily News”:

Defense Secretary Gotabhaya Rajapaksa in a live telecast interview … pointed out that the fully dedicated and committed war heroes should be given the correct leadership and their morale boosted. The media, politicians or any organization or individual should not seek to stifle the morale, concentration and dedication under any circumstances as it would certainly be a betrayal of one’s Motherland if they do so.

(http://www.dailynews.lk/2007/10/29/sec01.asp)
Coinciding with the speech, the President Mahinda Rajapaksa signed an emergency declaration that imposed a complete ban on reporting about any military affairs; the censorship law was almost immediately rescinded under near uniform criticism. The retreating possibility of peace remains the only constant or objective truth.

In this environment civil society struggles to find a space to breathe freely and dreams to speak. Civil organizations and the individuals that give them life exercise caution when sharing their work with international observers because an innocent lack of situational awareness could lead to pure intentions having serious consequences. While domestically these organizations link closely together in hopes of gaining greater protection from being singled out for special attention. Like taking shelter from brewing storm clouds, for the most part thunderclaps roll and echo harmlessly, but lighting can still strike swiftly without warning, and encourages keeping a low profile. One night this past week a Sri Lankan colleague and I visited another NGO to attend their press release regarding the prevalence of killings and disappearances across the country. The press release had been widely publicized and open to the public, but as we left to grab taxis home, my colleague asked me to hold onto her copy of released information until we returned to work. The next day at the office, as I had suspected, she confirmed: “if stopped at a checkpoint, it is safe for you to carry as a foreigner, but not as safe for me.”

Due to an extremely fortunate coincidence, I arrived in Sri Lanka during the early morning of what would the first day of HHR’s annual conference for strategic planning. Twenty-four hours of traveling nearly halfway around the globe confined in a winged tin tube, followed by what only seemed like an equal amount of time careening through traffic in a wheeled tin box would appeal to few people as the ideal introduction to a new place, new people, and a new job. Many other HHR staff members had also traveled long distances from branch offices across Sri Lanka, but from the opening introduction at the conference our shared enthusiasm breathed renewed life into every one of us.

On that first night we reviewed the founding mission of HHR, to protect and promote human right in Sri Lanka, and discussed our goals for the conference. In addition to my own recent arrival, this conference was also the first time for most staff members to meet in person with others from outside their own office; so after adjourning late in the evening much time was spent getting to know each other informally. By the close of the second day, as we sat eating dinner together, my Sri Lankan coworkers were already asking “So, how do you like Sri Lanka?”

As I reflected on the answer, it stuck me that I had less than 36 hours since my arrival on which I might base any opinion and that for about a third of that time I had been asleep; a moment later my new colleagues also shared this odd realization. I really could only commented on the hot, humid weather and the endless varieties of spicy curries, as we shared a common amusement at conspicuous incongruence between mechanically measured time and our perceived time together. We worked, ate, and relaxed with one another for two more days, and then the conference drew to a close. We succeeded in shaping a strategic plan for our organization and grew together as a dedicated team of professionals. After this fourth cycle of the sun around our world, the time gap relative to our personal perceptions seemed immeasurable and therefore ceased holding any significance.

I am looking forward to the coming year.