Missing Persons: From Rohana Wijeweera To Noel Gunaratnam, And More…
Sunday, August 21, 2016
Now that Parliament has passed a government-sponsored Bill on ‘missing persons’, questions arise as to how the proposed ‘Office’ under the new law would go about its job.
The final word however may stay with the higher judiciary of the land, if and when moved – and the Supreme Court verdict might decide where from here for the ‘Office of the Missing Persons’ (OMP). In between, the self-styled Joint Opposition (JO) identified with war-time President Mahinda Rajapaksa has appealed to Speaker Karu Jayasuriya, not to endorse the Bill, making it law under the Sri Lankan scheme.
The JO reservations – and consequent expectations – are also not without reason. Not that the government that had proposed it did not know it, either. For all intents and purposes, the Bill has conferred more than quasi-judicial authority of the kind on the OMP, with ‘contempt powers’ now available only to the courts of law in the country. The larger legal question might arise if the proposed institution should form part of the existing Judiciary (under the Supreme Court) or be an ‘Independent Institution’, like many others under revived 19th Amendment to the Constitution (earlier 17-A, until reversed by the intervening 18-A, which has since been nullified).
Favourable reaction, if any, to the new law, from sections of the mainline Sinhala polity in the country has been muted. It’s thus unclear if all the MPs that voted for the same would have the same levels of acceptance/resignation, if the limited domestic criticism on this score proves correct on the ground. It could be even more so in the case of the electorates (constituencies/constituents) that they represent now, especially if ‘fears’ of witch-hunting against military personnel were to prove right.
The TNA seems to be on an ‘observation mode’ as always – and rightly so. The Global Tamil Forum (GTF), which is also favourably inclined to the present government, has welcomed the initiative. It’s anybody’s guess how far would the government be keen on keeping up the commitment, or would actually be willing to do so. It also remains to be seen as to how far would the TNA and the GTF like to go along and sing along – or revert to the old adage, “The Sinhalas have cheated us one more time.” In every such instance in the future, as in the past, reality counts, and reality-checks matter the most, for all stake-holders.
Open criticism of the new move has come from only the JO and Rajapaksa. The political side of his reaction holds all MPs that now voted in the Bill answerable if the OMP process leads to prosecution and punishment for the nation’s ‘war heroes’. His war-time Foreign Minister G. L. Peiris, a constitutional lawyer and teacher, and JO parliamentary group leader, Dinesh Gunawardane, and the likes of Udaya Gammanpilla, have elaborated on what Rajapaksa had to say.
Transitional justice, but…
With the result, open support for the Government’s OMP cause has come from the ‘international community’ (read: West). It has been so for the Maithri-Ranil twin-leadership ever since coming to power after the presidential polls of 8 January 2015. It was also only to be expected in the light of their known positions on war-time ‘accountability issues’ at the UNHRC and outside even long before the conclusive ‘Eelam War IV’ had reached an irrevocable and irretrievable stage.
According to media reports, “The EU described the (OMP) development as an important statement of the Sri Lanka’s commitment to transitional justice.” More importantly, Atul Keshap, the US envoy, has dubbed the OMP law as a “historic milestone in the path toward meaningful national reconciliation”. Considering that the US was the prime-mover in the UNHRC since 2012, it’s saying a lot.
‘Global example’
Media reports have also quoted Amb Keshap to say, “Despite all positive steps by the government to achieve reconciliation, there is still much to be done before Sri Lanka can realize its full potential as a global example of how a post-conflict country can achieve lasting peace”. It’s this reference to ‘global example’ that can cause more problems for Sri Lanka and Sri Lankans, Tamil victims of war included, than even possibly the war crimes.
Already, the TNGTE, for instance, has urged UNHRC chief, Prince Zeid Ra’ad Al Hussein, to probe complaints of ‘poison-injections’ purportedly administered to post-war ‘LTTE surenderees’. Northern Province TNA Chief Minister C. V. Wigneswaran had earlier lent the weight of his personality and retired Supreme Court Justice, to accusations that over 100 ‘surenderees’ had died since rehabilitation, purportedly owing to injections administered by the military in rehabilitation camps.
Reports that visiting US Pacific Command’s medical personnel of the ‘Pacific Angel’ peace-time exercise in the North would test other surrendered LTTE cadres is not going to make things easy for the host-government. In context, it’s not clear whether CM Wigneswaran or Amb Keshap are authorised under power-sharing arrangements within and diplomatic protocols outside to make what seems to be ‘unilateral announcements’ of the kind is unclear, too.
At one level, like the war-crime accusations before it, charges of the kind need to be probed, even/if only to clear the military of any wrong-doing. At a more pragmatic-level, such probes, coming in the wake of UNHRC-centred ‘accountability probes’ could end up eternally delaying ‘reconciliation processes’. In Sri Lankan reality, it could mean that both the Tamil polity and society on the one hand, and their Sinhala counterparts on the other, not to leave out the Sri Lankan state and government, could end up frustrated. The consequences of such a course could be predictable as the past events and developments on the ethnic front now are. Conversely, it all could become totally unpredictable, as became clear after a point even during the decades of war and violence. When governments nearer home and afar thought that Tamil militancy was cake-walk, the LTTE proved otherwise. When they were all convinced that the LTTE was invincible and insurmountable, the armed forces proved otherwise.
It did not stop there. Post-war, when the TNA was talking to the government, however slow the progress be, the UNHRC probe demands stalled the talks. When the government changed in Colombo, as if it held the hopes for political reconciliation, the past still haunts the nation. If a new constitution was offered as the ultimate way out, those hopes/pretensions might be belied now by old demands and newer ones on ‘war crimes’, accountability issues and other human rights violations – real or not.
Two Sinhala ‘extremes’
Apart from the ruling UNP and ‘official’ faction members of the SLFP, the TNA and the JVP too have extended their backing for the Bill. The TNA still seems as clueless as the rest viz what needs to be done, or how it needs to be gone through. In contrast, the JVP has been quick to react, welcoming the proposed process, and wanting the OMP to help locate founder, Rohana Wijeweera. Even by official accounts, Wijeweera is dead. The question was if compatriot Herath shot him or the police did so, after the two were captured.
In contrast, there is the story of Noel Gunaratnam, also of the JVP but of Tamil origins, who reportedly returned ‘home’ from Australia at the height of ‘Eelam War IV’, only to be caught by Immigration officials, based on intelligence tip-off. Gunaratnam went by different aliases such as Kumar Mahattaya, Daskon Mudiyanselage Dayalal, and Noel Mudalige, among others. When caught, he was holding an Australian passport, and the Australian High Commission in Colombo intervened on his behalf. His is only one of the so many cases of ‘missing’ persons reappearing in his time.
It was no different even in the case of Rohana W, too, born Patabendi Don Nandasiri Wijeweera. To quote Wikipedia, “The closest account of events leading up to Wijeweera’s death surfaces from Maj-Gen Sarath Munasinghe who recounts the situation in his book, “A Soldier’s Version”: One day, a group of JVP activists had visited the residence of Nimal Kirthisri Attanayake (Rohana Wijeweera) at Ulapane. They demanded money for their movement. Wijeweera responded quickly by giving Rs. 100. The youngsters did not have a clue about their leader. Wijeweera was full of smiles when he divulged this story” (after being captured).
Daunting work
This may be two extremes pertaining to the JVP and Sinhala militancy. The JVP may not also stop with Rohana’s ‘missing’. Going by private accounts, compiled by academics and the rest, the number of missing Sinhala youth, boys and girls, mostly in the reproductive age-group, especially during the ‘second JVP insurgency’ (1987-89) was a low 60,000 and a high 100,000. If the OMP has to address the concerns of families of youth ‘missing’ in one Sri Lankan State military action, it cannot but seek out the truth in the case of another, earlier one. Together, the figures may not at all add up, and the work could become daunting even more than acknowledged.
Already, there are enough stories of the kind viz the LTTE cadres and other Tamils from the war-zones and outside going around under assumed names and new identities, some of them over the past so many decades. It may be crude to admit it, but whether Tamils or Sinhalas from the past, there were some, if not many – and certainly not the most – who had assumed new identities to claim ‘political asylum’ elsewhere but in truth ‘economic refuge’, instead. That’s true of other conflict-ridden nations, and their influx has created new situations in Europe in particular – for and against ‘refugee admission’ just now. In context, it’s as yet unclear why – or, why not – governments elsewhere did not ‘cooperate’ with Sri Lanka when the Rajapaksa-appointed panel sought their help in identifying ‘missing’ Tamils from the war-zone, living in their midst, either under their own identities or aliases. If there were domestic political/electoral reasons, that again may come in the way, even now. It’s another matter to be probed independently if the ‘missing persons’ from Sri Lanka still in their midst were ‘war victims’ or ‘economic refugees’ in the acceptable sense of the two terms.
Loosely put, the record(ed) numbers of war-victims thus far vary from a moderate 8,000-minus under the initial post-war UN count, to 40,000 of the UN Secretary-General’s Darusman Commission, to over 186,000 under the so-called door-to-door ‘census’ figures compiled by teams sent out by the Tamil Bishop of Mannar in the war-zone. These figures might comprise the number of dead and ‘missing’ – or, as envisaged.
It’s too early to conclude if OMP figures would correspond to any of these widely-varied numbers – or, could produce newer ones. Either way, the OMP law, the government of the day, or its western supporters have not put a date for concluding either the OMP probe, or the larger ‘accountability probe’ – unless, it all is allowed to end up as a sham probe. Such an end could only help Tamil and Sinhala extremists to flag their original concerns and positions on the ethnic front all over again. No work would have been completed, no solutions found, at the end of a very, very, unending long day.
Rajapaksa may have faltered as President, when reporting the end of Eelam Wars to Parliament, he did not ‘apologise’ to the Tamils for the deaths that had occurred during the long course. He could have added the unending list of JVP cadres killed likewise. His government could have also offered to relocate victim-families in lives, through jobs and compensation-funding. It was not impossible that the international community would have readily chipped in. Neither did he do so nor has his successor-government done it, so far. The politics of probes and politics over probes alone remain. It’s nothing more, nothing less, and unfortunately so.
The Sunday Leader