a night devoid of stars

As the official war in Sri Lanka between the government and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) draws to an end; the question percolating now in Colombo and donor capitals is what next? Will the government use the considerable political capital it has gained through a successful war to embark upon a project of pluralistic nation-building? Or has the eradication of the LTTE as an immediate threat also eradicated the need for a political solution?

Without a political solution, many fear that the LTTE will find increased support both inside Sri Lanka and externally among the diaspora to mount an offensive further down the line. After all, that is the nature of a guerrilla war, to recede, regroup and resurge. Some say that the government's proposal to develop the North, provide jobs and kickstart the economy will reduce deprivation and erode support for the Tigers in their heartland. But the same program has been attempted in the East, and increased lawlessness and militarization prevail.

Unfortunately, a meaningful political solution with autonomy is unlikely given this government's nationalist allies. The prospects for successful post conflict reconstruction in Sri Lanka are grim. The lack of depth and breadth in horizontal ties between groups, the high political fragmentation, the absence of leadership in the Tamil community, the scrabbling over resources and power-sharing that is likely to ensue between all political parties, the uneasy shadow of Sri Lanka's large northern neighbor, the massive internationalization of the conflict with multiple donors and agendas, the muzzled press, the worrying ability of the Rajapakse regime to operate outside the law and the lack of true bottom-up representation likely point to a failed reconstruction process.

And sadly, amongst all of these competing narratives, it is those without a voice that suffer the most, the starving, the injured, the displaced, the forgotten. The mere absence of war, as has been oft-quoted, and in Sri Lanka, oft-proven, is not peace.

the arc of the moral universe

"Here's to the crazy ones. The misfits. The rebels. The troublemakers. The round pegs in the square hole. The ones who see things differently. They're not fond of rules. And they have no respect for the status quo. You can quote them, disagree with them, glorify or vilify them. About the only thing you can't do is ignore them. Because they change things. They push the human race forward. And while some may see them as the crazy ones, we see genius. Because the people who are crazy enough to think they can change the world, are the ones who do." — Apple Computer Inc.

And then they came for me

The war is nearly over. Jaffna has been completely captured, the highway has been taken control of, and now the Tigers are confined to one tiny pocket. This is the beginning of a long slow descent into hell. As Martin Luther King said, “Returning violence for violence multiplies violence, adding deeper darkness to a night already devoid of stars. Darkness cannot drive out hate; only love can do that.”

Last month, a leading editor of one of the few independent newspapers in Sri Lanka was assassinated. Assassinated and not murdered, because it was a political act, widely believed to be the long arm of the government, reaching out to punish those who had spoken against it. This editorial (excerpts of which are pasted below, link also below) is a poignant reminder of how journalism can change the world, of how truth is the only thing that can save us all, of how principles matter, even if, and especially if, lives are laid down for it. And I have to say, that in these days of cynicism, working from the vaunted halls of an international organization that is supposed to keep the peace, I am reminded that all it takes, is one human being, to make me believe that the right thing should be done.

The Sunday Leader
(http://www.thesundayleader.lk/20090111/editorial-.htm)

“No other profession calls on its practitioners to lay down their lives for their art save the armed forces and, in Sri Lanka, journalism. In the course of the past few years, the independent media have increasingly come under attack. Electronic and print-media institutions have been burnt, bombed, sealed and coerced. Countless journalists have been harassed, threatened and killed. It has been my honor to belong to all those categories and now especially the last.

I have been in the business of journalism a good long time. Indeed, 2009 will be The Sunday Leader’s 15th year. Many things have changed in Sri Lanka during that time, and it does not need me to tell you that the greater part of that change has been for the worse. We find ourselves in the midst of a civil war ruthlessly prosecuted by protagonists whose bloodlust knows no bounds. Terror, whether perpetrated by terrorists or the state, has become the order of the day. Indeed, murder has become the primary tool whereby the state seeks to control the organs of liberty. Today it is the journalists, tomorrow it will be the judges. For neither group have the risks ever been higher or the stakes lower.

Why then do we do it? I often wonder that. After all, I too am a husband, and the father of three wonderful children. I too have responsibilities and obligations that transcend my profession, be it the law or journalism. Is it worth the risk? Many people tell me it is not. Friends tell me to revert to the bar, and goodness knows it offers a better and safer livelihood. Others, including political leaders on both sides, have at various times sought to induce me to take to politics, going so far as to offer me ministries of my choice. Diplomats, recognizing the risk journalists face in Sri Lanka, have offered me safe passage and the right of residence in their countries. Whatever else I may have been stuck for, I have not been stuck for choice.

But there is a calling that is yet above high office, fame, lucre and security. It is the call of conscience.”

….
An example that has inspired me throughout my career in journalism has been that of the German theologian, Martin Niemoller

First they came for the Jews

and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.

Then they came for the Communists

and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.

Then they came for the trade unionists

and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.

Then they came for me

and there was no one left to speak out for me.

If you remember nothing else, remember this: The Leader is there for you, be you Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim, low-caste, homosexual, dissident or disabled. Its staff will fight on, unbowed and unafraid, with the courage to which you have become accustomed. Do not take that commitment for granted. Let there be no doubt that whatever sacrifices we journalists make, they are not made for our own glory or enrichment: they are made for you. Whether you deserve their sacrifice is another matter. As for me, God knows I tried.