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May 2006 /August 2006

 

Remembering Kethesh Loganathan, Again: A Response To Qadri Ismail

 

-- Vaanmathy Pathmanathan

 

Memories are always difficult and different to word. The memory of Kethesh Loganathan who lived and died serving the cause of peace in Sri Lanka may mean different things to different people, even in the activist world. But there is one commonality that binds us all together in the activist-academic political field. Political and cultural activism has become, unfortunately, a life and death struggle in Sri Lanka and is underlined by life and death decisions. Whatever choice we make in our country and perhaps outside will always be beset by such questions, is this the right decision toward life, my life and other’s lives?  This is the question that would have driven and underlined Kethesh’s decision to join the Peace Secretariat at the beginning of this year: Will I be furthering the life of the failed peace process and will I be furthering the lives of other people in this country, of Muslims, Tamils and Sinhalese, in the east and in the south? Today, for an activist, within the political muddle we are in, this is what would drive a choice; the desire to live.

 

Did Kethesh make the right choice in joining the Peace Secretariat? Here I am slightly puzzled by Ismail’s pronouncement: He seems to be certain of his own take—that Kethesh’s decision to join the Peace Secretariat was a mistake. What exactly is a mistake is the question I am prompted to ask here. For many of us, Tamils, there is no space for activism in Sri Lanka or outside, constrained by the deep seated militarism pervading our cultures. Given that, can I, we, characterize a decision as that made by Kethesh, a mistake? Why would Kethesh, a founder member of the EPRLF, and an activist who stuck it out at CPA for so long as he did, within the culture of a politicized civil society, join the Peace Secretariat? The answer is staring at anyone in the face. Why did the LTTE kill Kethesh Loganathan?  At the risk of sounding repetitive, I would say, regardless of LTTE’s ‘actual’ reason, the answer for this seems to depend on LTTE’s decision to do away with him. Yes, Kethesh seems to have made the right decision; for he appears to have posed the right threat to the LTTE, in whatever decision he had made. In my response to Qadri Ismail, I will say this: With Qadri Ismail I too mourn Kethesh; not because he mistepped. But because he walked with a certain step toward peace; he walked to displaced camps. His stepped his way toward exposing child conscription. He spoke up again and again for a just solution based on devolution of power.  He walked toward change. And he struggled for a change of heart and mind in the thinking of civil society. He asked hard questions from all of us, all the time. I will always remember his challenges; and his support in all activity people made toward peace; his recognition of the EPRLF’s lapses in the past. He broke down that mental block in the Tamil activist’s mind against political partnership with the government. He worked for a political solution. He worked for political change.

 

His was a difficult life; some of our lives are also difficult; some more than others. We face daily difficult challenges. Let us make our challenges, and the questions we ask ourselves and others, questions that drive us toward life, a struggle against wanton death. That is the “right” choice. If Kethesh missed his step, he mistepped in the right direction

 

Its up to us today to continue with the work he wanted so much to carry out. By honoring Kethesh along with Ismail, I implore the Peace Secretariat to fight for a negotiated settlement for the country. I ask the government to commit itself to peace and to desist from its current militarism, particularly its alarmingly increasing jingoist rhetoric and its celebration of militarism.  I ask the government, along with Kethesh Loganathan,  to unconditionally commit itself to  a just solution to the  conflict, in which all  communities of the country, and specifically, communities in the north and east, Muslims, Tamils, Sinhalese, Veddhas, the Burghers and others attain a measure of security and belonging. The government MUST commit itself to devolution of power, and set to work on a peace package immediately.

 

The government’s efforts at inclusivity in building consensus is truly laudable. But it should not confuse inclusivity with political expedience, making the minorities lose hope, over and over again; it should make inclusivity truly democratic and work toward a programme of dialogue with displaced people of all communities; with representatives of women; with minority communities. Inclusivity today means not just round table talks, but also taking on positions of the powerless on board, including those of unarmed persons and communities.

 

Inclusivity means taking extra judicial killings by state forces seriously and dealing with them swiftly; it means acting justly with those anti social and anti minority elements that pervade our land. The government has to address itself seriously to the human rights situation in the country, like the killing of the five youth in Trincomalee in January and the more recent violations. Today, despite the low popularity of the LTTE among the Tamils, we see Tamils and Muslims losing faith in the government. In this climate, if the government sees its position as one of winning a contest with the LTTE, then its project, smacking of adoloscent identity crises, is doomed to fail from the beginning.  It must show to its people there is no military option possible.

 

The government has to show to Muslim and Tamil people of the north and east and elsewhere its commitment to peace by engaging in fruitful discussion at multi level levels with diverse elements. How much has the government attempted to assess the situation on the ground in the east? Despite lip service done to the language rights of the Tamil speaking peoples, police stations and other dangerous places today are woefully inadequate in dealing with matters in Tamil. This increases the insecurity of those who feel targeted not just because they are Tamil but also because they speak Tamil. Kethesh suggested a way of working with the government that could prove fruitful to us; Tamils, Muslims, Sinhalese, women, men, working class and others. Can the government, in whose name too, Kethesh died, now prove to the minorities that it is sincere in its efforts toward peace?  Importantly, the government should show its unwavering commitment to the peace talks and a settlement. It owes that to the memory of all who lived and died for the sake of peace.

 

Today, tensions are high, and they are not just between the LTTE and the state. We all know of the rampant violence of the LTTE against the Muslims in the east and the north. LTTE’s programme of terror against Sinhalese in the border villages.  Its arbitrary abductions of personnel of the service forces and civilians.  There is of course the unerasable issue of long standing tension between the Tamil people and the LTTE. On the other hand, inter ethnic violence has seeped into the fabric of society itself, particularly the communities of the north and the east. Is there an answer to this? I would have asked Kethesh at one time what he thought could be done. Today, I ask, perhaps in his name, peace activists and political scientists, feminists and trade unionists and political parties, how they are going to act toward a culture of peace; toward a national consensus; toward peace and devolution.