Kill Akon – Anger on planned concert
Opposition to the planned concert by international hip hop star Akon is growing on the net. The comments on facebook range from beating those who go for the concert, to killing the performer himself. The other end of the spectrum calls for absolute security for those who go for the event.
When eager fans line up outside the SSC Stadium on April 24 to watch Aliaune Badara Akon Thiam, known popularly as AKON, they will be walking into a high security zone where the entrance would be lined with body checks and scanners. During the performance, they will be watched by armed guards who will be ready to sprint into action.
The reason is facebook.
The Senegalese rapper who has lived a life of controversy, will be travelling with heavy baggage when he visits Sri Lanka for his tour. On one had he will carry the raunchy video which surfaced in 2007 of simulated sex with Danah (Deena) Alleyne, who was fifteen at the time.
The baggage on the other hand is heavier. The music video of “Sexy Bitch”, a project Akon did with French producer David Guetta shows a bikini-clad woman dancing on a platform with a Buddha statue in the backdrop. A few seconds of a music video which the Sri Lankan online Buddhist community does not take lightly.
A facebook group titled “We Hate AKON (Abuse Music Video Against Lord Buddha)” is currently at 8000-strong, and gaining more support each day. A smaller group called “Akon Who Disgraced Buddhism – STOP Sri Lanka Concert !” is smaller in numbers, but more vocal in its discussions. They call for boycotting the event altogether, with a few of the aggressive members calling for violence against the artist.
“We are aware of the movement, and we have seen both videos. The one with the girls dancing near a statue is not necessarily them dancing in front of it, but the statue is set as a backdrop. Buddha statues are used as decor in the western hemisphere, like in the Parisian club Buddha Bar” said a spokesperson from the organizers, YES FM.
Ven. Hegoda Vipassi looks at the issue from a different angle. “This is a Buddhist country, and by inviting a person who has defamed Buddhism to perform here, we are implying an honour to him. As Buddhist clerics, we are strongly against this move” – this is a sentiment which is echoed on the facebook groups as well.
The comments on the groups vary. Whilst some posts call for violent action against Akon, another points out “Let’s not make it easy for them to tag us the extremists”. A member reminds that all steps should be taken to ensure that a repeat of the hand grenade incident when Bollywood strongman Shah Rukh Khan was performing in Sri Lanka does not take place.
The event, according to organizers is backed by Sri Lanka Tourism (SLTPB). Responding to Perambara, an official from SLTPB said that they are watching the situation and the sentiments of the people, and they were aware of the facebook comments. Whilst the organizers are confident that they will not cancel the performance under any circumstances, Sri Lanka Tourism Promotion Bureau watches from a safe distance on the developments. Repeated attempts by Perambara to contact Dileep Mudadeniya, Managing Director of SLTPB for comments failed.
By Dinidu de Alwis
Suchith Abeyewickreme
Good article but the title is misleading and doesn’t not portray the reality.
I believe kind of wrong to title the whole thing under the words of few extremists and of not give voice to the 90%+ moderate protesters.
Might look more attractive for the media folks but leaves media ethics by the roadside.
Dear Suchith,
Tks very much for the comments and letting us know what u felt. As a reader ur opnion is of great value to us. We would love to give space to 90% + moderate protestors to air the views on Perambara in any which way they want to.
Thanks
Perambara Team
JVP in non-violent protests over Fonseka
Even though he is alone in a chalet at the Navy Headquarters, the one-time commander of the Sri Lanka Army is not without his ardent supporters. Set to a background track of lottery vendors who promised quick riches, and shaded by a sacred Bodhi tree, members of the left-wing Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna staged a non-violent protest calling for his release. The level of vigour and emotion in the protests however, was watered down from what was seen when Fonseka was initially arrested.
Fonseka faced the first hearing of the Court Martial yesterday, and he is scheduled to face them again today. The JVP has called for islandwide protest calling for the Government to release Fonseka. The Government recently announced that he will also face charges in front of a Civil court for crimes which can be punishable under the Civil judicial system.
“He is being subject to a court martial at the whims of the Government” says Somawansha Amarasinghe, the leader of the JVP. Amarasinghe was a staunch supporter of Fonseka, when the military strongman pitched a bid for the office of the President – running against his former Commander-in-Chief, President Mahinda Rajapaksa.
The two main opposition parties – the United National Party, and the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna, two fierce opponents till the Presidential Election – united under a single political wing in an attempt to elect Fonseka to the office of President. Now however, Fonseka is left with the newly formed Democratic National Alliance led (DNA) by the JVP. With the break of the alliance, the energy of support that Fonseka had has also died down. The United National Party (UNP) – Sri Lanka’s largest opposition party and a staunch supporter and driving force behind Fonseka’s Presidential bid – has taken a step away from their former Presidential candidate to focus on their own election campaign.
Fonseka entered the stage of active politics following a rift with President Mahinda Rajapaksa. Fonseka who was the commander of the Army, was appointed as the Chief of Defence Staff – the highest military post in the Nation. With it however, came power dynamics which acted in a way that made Fonseka feel that he was being sidelined, and reduced to a ceremonial position.
Come election day, President Rajapaksa secured a second term with almost 60% of the total votes, in an election which Fonseka and his allies alleged was rigged. The immediate period following the election was highly tense in Colombo, when the hotel that Fonseka was in was surrounded by Army personnel who were previously and ironically under the command of Fonseka himself.
Just over a week later, Fonseka was arrested by the Military Police for military offences including politicking while in uniform, planning to overthrow the Government, and financial misappropriations during his tenure as the Commander of the Army.
Massive crowds gathered in the Capital city, and in various areas of the country to protest the arrest, which the opposition parties claimed was an act of vengeance by the Government against Fonseka. Violent clashed ensued, with police being called in to control the crowds by means of tear gas and water cannons.
The intensity and vigour of the protests started to die down, as the country stared heating up with the preparation for the General Elections which are scheduled for mid-April. Fonseka who is currently detained by the Military Police is also a contender for the elections, in which the people of Sri Lanka will elect 196 of the 225 members of its legislature
Emergency debate a precursor to next parliament
The battle lines drawn between the government and the opposition in the general election campaign were last Tuesday (9) brought before parliament when it was re-convened to extend the Emergency Regulations by another month.
Due to the intense campaigning for the general election, many members from both the governing party and the opposition were not present in parliament on the 9th. The opposition parties as always were the least represented that day.
The parliament that was dissolved in February was reconvened to extend Emergency.
While the governing party and its allies voted for the extension of the regulations, all opposition political parties voted against in unison.
Interestingly, it was the broad opposition coalition that voted against the extension of Emergency.
Key among those who opposed was the JVP who initially voted in favor of the regulations since its declaration in 2005.
The vote on emergency was also indicative of things to come in the next parliament after the elections. It was indicative that the opposition forces regardless of divergent policies could still act together one certain issues.
The extension of Emergency Regulations was viewed with some suspicion by the opposition ranks.
The main question posed by the opposition ranks during the Emergency debate was the need for the extension given the end of the war. The government on the other hand maintained the importance of the regulations claiming although terrorism has been eliminated, forces that backed terrorism were still in action and needed to be
crushed.
Moving the motion to extend Emergency, Prime Minister Ratnasiri Wickremanayake said there were some
who reported information according to the agendas of those against the state and there were others who engaged in activities which affected the sovereignty of the country.
He noted that it was essential to put a stop to all such activities to ensure the safety of the people.
Wickremanayake said there were certain forces who were working towards breaking the unitary status of Sri Lanka without considering that it is an independent state.
He therefore said pro LTTE forces still existed today though the organization was crushed militarily.
“We still hear the growling of tigers though they are no more,” he said.
“The government accepts the fact that it has to work closely with the world but one must understand that Sri Lanka is not a colony of a superpower,” he added.
Given the objections raised by opposition parties before parliament commenced session on the 9th, the Premier observed that the most unfortunate thing was the absence of a common platform to face the common issues faced by the country. “Those who are against the state are organizing themselves while the people of this country are divided without working as a single community,” Wickremanayake said.
However, the opposition legislators accused the government of suing Emergency Regulations to suppress the media and other dissenting voices.
Chief Opposition Whip Joseph Michael Perera charged that the Emergency was being used by the government for many purposes apart from safeguarding national security.
He also noted that the regulations were being used by the government to violate laws in the country, especially during election time.
Perera pointed out that the governing party supporters have found immunity in Emergency Regulations to violate election laws.
He also drew attention to the security provided to opposition parliamentarians, which was even taken before the Supreme Court.
Perera observed that since parliament was once again in session, the IGP has to be informed to provide security to all legislators.
Firebrand JVP parliamentarian Sunil Handunnetti also charged that the government has mademany undemocratic acts under the guise of Emergency Regulations.
He questioned as to why there was a need for Emergency Regulations when the war has been over for eight months.
He charged that the government declared eight detention centers under the Emergency Regulations. “Why is there a need for detention centers when the war is over?” he queried.
Handunnetti also said the extension of Emergency would be a carte blanch for thugs associated with the government to carry out attacks against opposition members, as the police have so far remained silent on complaints lodged about such attacks.
However, following the debate that lasted from 9.30 a.m. till 1 p.m., Emergency was extended with 93 votes being cast in favor and 24 against.
By Mandana Ismail Abeywickrema
When the razzmatazz fades
One and a half months ago, Colombo was a tense place. Elections results had been declared, with the incumbent President Mahinda Rajapaksa emerging as the clear victor, managing to secure almost sixty percent of the total cast ballots. His defeated foe in the race and one time ally, (Retd.) Gen. Sarath Fonseka and supporters were taking residence at Cinnamon Lakeside hotel in Colombo for the election night, and found themselves surrounded by armed personnel. Fonseka alleged he was being intimidated; Government refuted the claims and stated that he is being provided increased security. The atmosphere was explosive.
Then things cooled off a bit. Word started spreading along the grapevine that Fonseka would be arrested. Tension ensued.
The campaign office of Fonseka being raided was the first sign.
A week later. He was arrested at the same venue.
Fonseka was charged with committing military offences. His supporters along with his partners for the failed Presidential bid sprang into action. When legal means were taken from one end, the other protested in the form of demonstrations, shouting slogans and holding placards. The demonstration outside the Supreme Court complex brought together massive numbers, to an unprecedented level. In several places around the country, these protests came under attack from Government supporters, or were disbanded by the police. One thing was visible, which was the large numbers in which they gathered and the immense energy they possessed.
Now however, the energy seems to have run out.
On Monday March 8, a month since Fonseka was arrested, the Democratic National Alliance led by the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna held a rally to again call for the release of Fonseka. On the International Women’s Day, they made Anoma Fonseka the star.
The wife of the arrested former Commander of the Army was thrust upon the limelight by circumstance. Anoma, who was previously a mere supporting character, was all of a sudden taking the lead role in the drama that unfolded upon the political stage.
Whilst the drama was unfolding, the spectators were dwindling and the popcorn ran out.
Although the initial processions and rallies gathered thousands who were pumped up with vigour, the momentum was seen slowing down with time. When the common opposition called for a rally to protest the the Government’s actions during the elections, more than four thousand came to Hyde Park. The crowd spilled over to the roads were witness to the public’s state of mind, and its sentiments towards Fonseka.
Monday however, was a different story. The crowd was there, but in small numbers. It started small at around a thousand heads bobbing up and down, and sideways, and with time grew by about a thousand more.
The speeches, which were once articulately prepared and powerfully delivered, now seemed ad hoc, and at worst, dead. The people were the same. Cheers went up at the usual intervals, but were lacklustre compared to the vitality and dynamism which was once there.
Fonseka remains under detention. The Army reported that the Summary of Evidence against Fonseka has been completed, and now handed over to the Commander of the Army. The drama continues. The question is, how long will the popcorn last?
A day in Vavuniya
The heat in Vavuniya is incredible – oppressive and dry, as if it is trying to sap every last ounce of moisture from you and evaporate it into thin air. As I clambered out of my blissfully air conditioned van and into Vavuniya’s searing heat a few days ago, I felt immediately tired, even though I had only been sitting and sleeping for the past 7 hours since we left Colombo.
I mentioned this to the young woman I was with, who I had picked up from her family’s house just outside of Vavuniya town and she cheerfully agreed. “It seems to get worse every year, even my aunties agree”, in her thick European accent. Only in Sri Lanka for a very brief visit, she met me and my crew for a day’s worth of filming connected to her charity work at the Vavuniya hospital.
My first impression of the hospital was that it looked quite new – I supposed it was probably built up after the end of the war last year. The paint on the walls was still fresh and clean and so were the wide windows, if you ignored a light coating of dust, inescapable in these parts. Walking inside however, I saw that the place was a mess of tired patients and harried medical staff. Stray, mangy dogs skittered unnoticed in and out of the open doors and crowds of aimless looking people sat on the floor of the entrance to the hospital and all along its corridors.
My companion saw my doubtful stares in their direction and clarified: “IDPs”, she said simply. “They arrive in busloads early morning, but they cannot leave until they’ve all been seen. They are only allowed to go back to the camps late in the evening. So they wait”. I remember the two young girls I had seen when I first stepped out of our vehicle in the parking lot. They were sitting at the foot of a dusty red government bus, staring at nothing in particular. I supposed they were waiting to go home too. I felt sorry for them, sitting there with nothing to do and in this terrible heat. One of them looked at me, brow furrowed, when I pointed a camera in her direction but looked away again, disinterested.
This would be the first of many times during my brief time in Vavuniya that I wished I spoke Tamil. Being a virtual first-time visitor to the area is quite a strange experience. It looks and feels like Sri Lanka, but at the same time feels like a different country – a place where you can’t read the signs and can’t understand the language. I wonder if some Tamils feel the same when they come to the South, or what they think of our lazy inability to learn Tamil when they have been forced to learn Sinhala in order to be able to communicate. It’s moments like these when I can almost feel that disconnect between our two communities, along with a dogged sense of how impossible it seems to rectify past mistakes.
The soldiers stationed within the hospital – apparently to keep an eye on patients with affiliations to the LTTE – reinforced this feeling. They seemed glad to talk to me and my crew and chatted to us quite freely, although they were careful to warn us not to film first. We obediently left our cameras aside, pointing in the opposite direction. They told us that there was a game of sorts going on between them and the people: the Tamils know how to speak Sinhala; the soldiers know how to speak Tamil. But neither side lets on to each other about this knowledge because they feel it gives them an added advantage to pretend that they cannot communicate. The implications of this made my head spin, so I looked around at my surroundings instead, trying to put it out of my mind for the time being.
The soldiers lived in a shelter that was made up of a series of asbestos and cardboard sheets – an impossibly tiny living space for even one person, let alone the 3 that were actually resident there. I discreetly peered inside but it was too dark to make out much more than a raised mattress, thin and rather grubby, with a gun leaning against it. I found it a strange paradox: the power those guns gave the soldiers and the simultaneous indignity of having to live in such squalor.
Other parts of the hospital were quite picturesque. A series of small chalets – what I assumed to be staff quarters – stood almost hidden amidst foliage that was still green despite the heat. Parakeets the colour of emerald caught the sunlight on their wings as they flitted around the leafy canopy.
Towards the more populated corridors of the hospital, there were monkeys – everywhere. Hanging off piping on the walls; trying mischievously to pry windows open; sitting on the roofs with their babies hugging their stomachs; peeping at me over the edge of the air conditioner on which they had chosen to perch as I took a few hurried photographs. I wondered whether all this ‘wildlife’ was a threat to the hygiene of the hospital but had no one really to ask.
By the time we left the hospital there wasn’t much time for anything else – we had to get back to Colombo by at least midnight so we decided to grab some lunch, head to the markets we had seen on the way in for some quick filming and then head home.
The last time I had been to Vavuniya was to Menik Farm in about November, to spend a few hours playing constructively with a group of small children. I didn’t see anything of the town and barely anything of the camps either. I only saw the controversial tents in the distance and the little children up close in all their disarming, dusty, sweetness.
Even then, what struck me most about Vavuniya was the dust. It got everywhere – into the folds of your shirt and into your hair. It coated your skin like a powder and stuck there, your sweat working like an adhesive. As we drove through the town this time too, the dust was actually visible – swirling heatedly with the wind that followed fast-moving vehicles on the road.
At first glance – which is pretty much all I got – Vavuniya is clearly a developing town. Some buildings are crumbling and decrepit while others look brand new, like the Courts complex. There was a lot of road-work going on and signs of construction were everywhere. Promisingly though, the town was bustling – shops were open, roads were busy and people were milling about on the streets. “It’s alive”, my companion murmured almost to herself as she peered out the window, possibly remembering a time when it wasn’t.
Almost everywhere we went, the roadsides were lined with bicycles – one of the main modes of transport in these areas –hundreds of them, shining in the harsh sunlight as their owners and parked and went about their business on foot. I wonder whether the use of bicycles will eventually die out as the town gets more developed and its people more prosperous. I hope not. In a way the bicycles seem to have become as idiosyncratic to these parts as the Palmyrah trees that dot the landscape the further North one travels.
We decided to do our last spot of filming on a streetside, where the markets were in full form. I love markets – the bustle, the colour, the beckoning vendors whose calls are universal no matter what language they’re in. As my cameraman hoisted his camera on his shoulder and started shooting, my companion and I whipped out our cameras – hers an SLR, mine a point-and-shoot – and started making the most of our last few minutes in the area.
The street was overflowing with goods for sale – clothes, food, pots, pans, you name it. Some of them were sold in actual shops, others in carts holding trinkets and toys, and yet others on mats on the ground, laid out for passers-by to peruse at leisure.
People watched us amusedly as we crouched by the roadside taking photographs of the vendors at work. The vendors themselves were quite thrilled to be the object of our attention. They spoke to me excitedly in Tamil, pointing to their neighbours, urging me to photograph them as well. I smiled and obliged. Their faces are irresistible – sunburned, lined with age and hardship but smiling despite it all at the distraction my friend and I presented.
When I visit places like this, that have literally been war zones in the very recent past, I marvel at how quickly humans can find it in themselves to recover and move on. These were all people who had the sounds of shelling ringing in their ears; who had seen destruction I could never even imagine – yet here they were, out on a Friday afternoon, doing their marketing, buying toys for their youngsters and making a living for their families.
One woman I tried to photograph had her face in the shadow of her umbrella. When she noticed my camera, she pulled the umbrella closer, hiding herself away from my lens. I wished I could have communicated to her that she needn’t – that she could have made a beautiful picture. Although probably not in the same words, her companions urged her to move the umbrella away and after a little bit of cajoling, she flung it aside and let sunlight flood her face. And I was right. She did make a beautiful picture.
As we walked away, my companion – now my firm friend – whispered in my ear – “watch this” and then turned around to let out a stream of fluent Tamil at the friendly vendors we had just been photographing. They gasped delightedly at the unexpected surprise and called out goodbyes to us as we moved on.
We did all our filming on that one street. There was so much to photograph and document, so much colour and life. I commented on this to my friend – who, despite having been born and bred in the West, yearned for her frequent visits to Vavuniya, where she would stay with her relatives in their tiny village houses, sleep with friendly frogs and play with her young cousins near the paddy fields by their property.
“I usually cry for a whole day when I leave” she said to me sadly as we settled back in our seats – finally away from the dust and heat – getting comfortable for the long ride ahead. We would be stopping at the airport on the way to drop her off so that she would be able catch her flight home. I gave a quick sympathetic hug. “The last time I was here,” she said, “I flew back home but missed it so much that I came back after three days for another week!” I laughed at this story a little incredulously. “Are you serious?” I asked and she nodded, adding simply, by way of explanation, “I just wasn’t ready to say goodbye. I never am”.
Her words have stuck in my head ever since, making the task of bridging our communities suddenly seem slightly less daunting. Why? Because it reminds me that, complex political divides aside, love for our country is something we all have in common. And something which also, strangely enough, puts us every single one of us on the same side.
By Tarika Wickremaratne
The split opposition looks for a united vote
The split in the broad opposition alliance with the formation of two separate alliances by the UNP and General Sarath
Fonseka and the JVP has eroded the opposition vote base to an extent.
Opposition party representatives fear that the disgruntled voters may even refrain from casting their votes at the April 8 general election. They also opine that the split among opposition ranks has minimised the opposition’s chances of posing a challenge to the governing party at the elections while also increasing representation at the next parliament.
The UNP led UNF and the Democratic National Alliance (DNA) led by General Fonseka and the JVP are now looking at improving on the number of votes received at the Presidential election by the common candidate, while also encouraging all opposition voters to cast their votes at the forthcoming general election.
DNA Secretary and JVP Propaganda Secretary Vijitha Herath noted that the task before the opposition is to encourage disgruntled voters to cast their votes at the election.
He said there indeed was a section of voters who are unhappy with the split in the broad opposition alliance.
“The continuance of the broad opposition alliance would have made it easy for the opposition to increase its representation in parliament and pose a challenge to the governing party at the election,” he said.
However, he said the DNA campaign would also be focused on encouraging people to cast their votes at the election.
The DNA campaign is based on the need to restore democracy, good governance and provide economic relief to the people. Herath also observed that the opposition parties, even from two separate platforms, are agitating for the same cause. “This factor needs to be explained to the people to encourage them to cast their votes,” he said.
Meanwhile, UNP General Secretary Tissa Attanayake expressed confidence saying that the opposition vote base may not affected badly as expected.
Attanayake explaining a different point of view said that some voters who did not cast their votes at the Presidential election due to their disapproval of alliances formed between certain political parties, may cast their votes at the general election.
“Although there were many who supported the broad opposition alliance, there were also loyalists from both the UNP and the JVP who did not cast their votes due to their disapproval of the alliance between the two parties,” he said.
The alliance between the UNP and the JVP, two political parties with divergent policies, came on a common platform at the Presidential election in support of General Fonseka’s common candidature.
According to Attanayake, the voters who did not cast their votes at the Presidential election could now do so as the parties were contesting from separate alliances.
However, he admitted that there were still some who are unhappy with the breakdown of the broad alliance.
“The split was not caused merely due to a symbol issue, there is much more to it and the policy divergences and the experiences at the Presidential election played a role in it as well,” Attanayake said.
Amidst the odds, the DNA and the UNF is hopeful of being able to form a strong opposition representation in the next parliament.
The opposition now has about five weeks to convince the voters of its conviction to bring about all that is currently being said in the respective election campaigns.
At the last parliamentary elections held on April 2, 2004, the UNF won 37.8% of the popular vote and secured 82 out of 225 seats in parliament. The UPFA which contested with the JVP polled 4,223,970 votes (45.60%) of the votes and secured 105 slots in the legislature.
By Mandana Ismail Abeywickrema
Facebook is a Safebook
I am not sure what the hype was. Was it the presidential election? Or was it just Facebook? Or was it the pop ads of faces more familiar on our parapet walls?
For the first time the two main candidates and their supporter at the last presidential election began using Facebook as a canvassing platform .
Facebook states that its mission is to give people the power to share and make the world more open and connected. Its true we share more than we probably should on Facebook and we are connected more than we were with people you might have forgotten otherwise. To be a Facebook friend the distance, the time, age, gender, race, occupation, position at office is not a matter. All you need is good internet connectivity and a good profile picture. Get connected with some friends (either you know them well or want to get to know them better) immediately you are open up to a portal of information, at a glance. Millions of people are connected and millions of people do millions of things in Facebook.
With its addictive nature, Facebook is a marketer’s dreamland.
Presidential election in Sri Lanka is actually, in my own view a trend. More than selecting a president for the country , it’s more a contest of who likes who. Months before the presidential election was announced, cut-outs of possible candidates and their supporters started to appear in various corners of the island to remind Sri Lankans how to “Smile”. Not stopping from cut-outs, posters, news papers, leaflets radio commercials, television commercials these smiley presidential candidates, crept into Facebook as well.
Facebook fan pages were created. People changed their profile pictures to their favourite candidate. Tagged pictures of their most wanted candidate. Updated their Facebook status, with encouraging words, on behalf of their preferred candidate. And that was not the end of the story.
Facebook introduced Facebook advertisements some time back. How it works is you can create an advertisement of your own and you can have a eye catching title and photo and give a short blurb up to 135 characters. Hence another marketing tool, for the presidential campaign. The presidential election was announced, smiley faces of the presidential candidates appeared in the side of the Facebook profile page. And people started to “Like” the advertisements. “Like” is a feature in Fabcebook, where you can click a small button at the bottom of the advertisement (and other posts and links as well). So each day you see more and more of these presidential advertisements appearing and more and more people liking them.
As the election campaign heated up, the activity levels in Facebook increased correspondingly. Sri Lanka users started to post stronger status updates supporting their candidate of choice. Conversation threads were created. Everyone tried to prove that they were right. One would link a web news paper on his or her profile and commented his/her thoughts on it. More and more profile pictures turned out to be the pictures of the two candidates.
Someone would “Like” these status or posts and/or criticise them. Debates were created, just like in TV. And just like in TV there was an audience who would participate with comments or silently read others’ comments and make their own decision. This audience was consisted of Sri Lankans living in Sri Lanka and outside, and non-Sri Lankan who are friends with Sri Lankans.
I am not sure how far Facebook had an impact on the election. But there was some kind of hype, a trend within those who were in Social Networking sites such as Facebook. Users of Facebook had the ability to put their idea out to the world of the social network even though they were not political figures, well known figures, journalists and so on. Something almost alien in Sri Lanka.
Other than advertisements there was no direct cost. So it was cheap to create a fan page and gather thousands of Sri Lankan (Facebook users) to be fans of their favourite candidate.
I was quite biased during the presidential election. I spoke on behalf of my preferred candidate when I met up with my friends and colleagues. But never thought of posting anything on Facebook to say to my 600 Friends “hey hey look here I support him” . I detested having to see the opposition candidates’ related posts appearing in my home page. To escape that I always stayed on my profile page. Then it didn’t seems to work because his advertisements started to appear on the side of the page and I was like a ”Hare in a Snare unable to dare”. Then I noticed that I could actually take off those advertisements appearing on my screen. On the top right hand corner of each advertisement appears a small cross. When you click that it prompts a pop up box asking “Why didn’t you like this advertisement?” with a drop down menu. I selected “Offensive” and clicked okay. Well I was rather offended now wasn’t I? And unlike on the parapet walls, I had the choice to blacken out the advertisement.
Like I said I already knew who I was going to vote for. Hence none of the advertisements or posts convinced me to vote for the other person (or any of the other 20 candidates). But I was really surprised how “presidential feverish” Facebook users became during the period.
The general election is back in town. And I see many happy smiley faces appearing on my Facebook profile, again. So far non in my network said anything about their preferred candidate, perhaps they are confused as to who is in what party. So I can safely browse through the home page and stalk (yes it is a way of stalking but this time you have your Facebook friends consent) the Facebook friends’ profiles. So Facebook is a Safebook for me at the moment.
There is no guarantee that it would remain that. It could turn into one big churning pool of candidates screaming above one another for that magic preference. Then after April 9, the churning will stop, we will be again left to comment on our pictures, our many statues and what not.
Or we can make Facebook that much needed forum, where along with all the discussions on liking this and that, we could also discuss, argue, scream and shout about things that really matter to us, and for this country.
Why the common opposition split
The beleaguered opposition seems to have lost its chances of posing a formidable challenge to the governing party at the general election following the split in the broad opposition alliance formed during the Presidential election.
The opposition is to now fight against the governing UPFA while battling it out among themselves from two separate platforms.
Fissures in the broad opposition alliance appeared with the announcement of general elections and the question on who would lead the common opposition during the campaign and at the elections.
The reason for the split in the broad opposition alliance is not limited only to the UNP’s decision to contest under the UNF with the elephant symbol.
The reasons for the split include policy divergences, allocation of slots in the nominations and national lists and most importantly the leadership of the joint opposition campaign.
UNP General Secretary Tissa Attanayake said the party had to consider its experience while working as a broad opposition alliance during the Presidential election when making a final decision on the general election.
He said there were other issues apart from the elephant symbol that prevented the continuance of the joint opposition.
“There are policy differences among the opposition parties, but we managed to campaign on the common issues during the Presidential election and would continue with it during the general election. Policy issues also made it difficult for the UNF and the JVP to arrive at a consensus,” he said.
He added the UNP had to protect the party’s identity as well.
Attanayake also observed that while there was a massive support base for the joint opposition, there were also party loyalists in both the UNP and the JVP that did not support the coalition between the two parties.
The UNP led UNF and the JVP initially announced during the Presidential election that they would contest the general election separately. However, due to the developments in the political front soon after the Presidential elections opposition political parties contemplated on the need to continue with the broad alliance to give more impact to the common causes – democracy, good governance and economic prosperity.
However, the blame game between the main opposition UNP and the JVP initially began with the question of who would lead the joint opposition campaign at the general election.
Soon after the Presidential election Common Presidential Candidate General Sarath Fonseka expressed his desire to contest the general election with the broad opposition alliance that supported him during the Presidential election campaign.
General Fonseka during several rounds of discussions with the UNF and JVP leaders informed of his wish for the broad opposition alliance to contest under the swan symbol under his leadership.
General Fonseka’s proposal was backed by the JVP while the UNP said the UNF was contemplating on contesting the elections under the elephant symbol with Opposition Leader Ranil Wickremesinghe heading the campaign.
It was from this instance that cracks in the joint opposition began to appear.
Co-chairmen of the UNF, SLFP (M) Wing Leader Mangala Samaraweera, SLMC Leader Rauf Hakeem, DPF Leader Mano Ganeshan and UNP Deputy Leader Karu Jayasruiya were engaged in several rounds of discussions with General Fonseka and JVP leaders to arrive at a consensus.
However, General Fonseka was taken into military custody before reaching an agreement. In fact he was arrested while discussing the possibility of contesting the general elections under the broad opposition alliance.
Even after General Fonseka’s arrest, several JVP leaders continued discussions with the UNF leaders on how to contest the general election as a joint opposition.
The JVP also met with UNP leaders separately including Wickremesinghe and informed that the party was ready to contest with a joint opposition under several conditions – the joint opposition should not contest under the UNF and the elephant symbol and General Fonseka should lead the general election campaign.
The UNP’s lukewarm response to the proposals made the JVP look at an alternative to contest the election. The party decided to form an alliance with General Fonseka at the lead.
The JVP through General Fonseka’s wife Anoma Fonskea communicated its decision to form a separate alliance with him at the lead and asked for his response.
The General responded positively.
The UNP Working Committee decision to contest the election under the elephant symbol made the JVP realize they had to work on forming a separate alliance.
The new alliance headed by General Fonskea could not contest under the swan symbol of the New Democratic Front as the party was a member of the UNF.
The Democratic National Alliance (DNA) was offered to the JVP and after introducing a new leader and secretary, the General’s alternative alliance was formed under it.
The battle lines have been drawn now and the opposition is divided in to two platforms.
Mandana Ismail Abeywickrema
Calling it as you see it – the shooters’ tale
It generally starts with a text message.
Someone sends a message saying that there is heavy police presence. Then phones are picked up and calls are made. “Barricades are being brought in. Student protest, apparently”. A few calls later, we have a rough idea of where it’s going to be. We change plans of heading back to office, and tell the tuk-tuk driver to take us to Colpetty.
Lots of Police can be seen, but no sign of a protest. No students, no placards. We talk to a few Police officers. “We don’t know where they plan to go.” Confusion ensues.
A few more phone calls are made to photographers. Then we finally track it down to Town Hall. Students, monks, student monks. Slowly the crowd gathers, and they start marching.
The marching is brisk. The trail moves with the speed and agility of Colombo’s tuk-tuks. Only a few people at the front of the march are aware of the final destination that the march is headed to, and the directions they will be taking. Everyone else, including the police, are confused.
We walk in front of it, occasionally slowing down to shoot, and then running up to overtake it. We stop at junctions, and try to guess where they are heading. Police guess along with us. Sudden turns and twists, and some police officer or another is seen screaming into a walkie talkie.
The march comes to a junction, and there is a lone soldier with an assault rifle on his shoulder. Sanka Vidanagama and I stop for a moment. To try and juxtapose the saffron of the robes and the peace that it signifies, with the greens and browns of jungle camouflage and the violence that’s attached to it.
“I started as a hobby” says Sanka, who’s father is the legendary news photographer Sena Vidanagama, who took the picture of Rajiv Gandhi being hit over the shoulder with a rifle butt. Sena was an inspiration to many a young photographer.
But somewhere along the way the hobby turned into a profession. He talks about what he does, and the reasons behind it, with the same enthusiasm and cool that is trademark Sanka Vidanagama, laid back, all calm. “It’s probably the rebellious nature and the drive that comes with the age as well, which makes us want to go where we go” he adds. Even though young, he’s a veteran in the arts of urban warfare that is tear gas and water cannons. “I’ve faces tear gas about ten fifteen times” he says, but his initiation to violence was when he was recently at the receiving end of a stone that was thrown, when supporters of Gen. Sarath Fonseka and President Mahinda Rajapaksa clashed outside the supreme court complex.
Eranga Jayawardena, who is a Photographer for the Associated Press in Sri Lanka talks about the Hulfstdorp clashes in a different context. “There are two kinds of trouble that you can get into as a photographer. One is when you shoot in situations where there can be incidents that can physically harm you”, says Eranga.
The veteran photographer also talks of his days when he was covering the conflict, which ravaged the country for decades. “The conflict had an ethnic base, and I come from a specific ethnicity which was a party to that conflict. Even though I call it as I see it, by doing photographic reportage – and only reportage, persons with different agendas can twist the information that flows from to for their gain”. The gain for others, Eranga says, comes at a hefty price. “Whenever someone else gains, reporters become victims of targeted and premeditated harassment.”
Eranga follows the same philosophy that all good photographers do – snap what you see, and let the viewer come to conclusions. “I’m a reporter. I report. And then I hope for the best.”
In Colpetty, the march is now confronted with a barricade stopping it’s way. Photographers and reporters manage to squeeze through the barricade before it closes up. They are now on the side of the Police. We talk to them to find the action plan. A police officer takes a megaphone and asks the crowd to disburse. The crowd erects a stage and start making speeches.
Three photographers from local newspapers climb atop a telephone wire box to get a better look. A videographer manages to climb onto a roof. I get onto my colleague’s back. A police officer looks at my colleague and I can almost hear him mutter “psychos”. I smile.
The photographers reunite behind the barricades and take a few more shots of the assembled riot squads. One truck with a water cannon mounted starts to leak water. A few jokes are made at the truck’s expense. When things cool down, pow-wows happen and the people who are lugging heavy equipment around jest and rest. And memories are shared.
Chamila Karunaratna is a news photographer, who started when he was in school. He entered the sphere of photo journalism when he was twenty, and now contributes to a leading weekend paper, as well as freelancing for the Associated Press. Chamila relates an incident at a student protest a few years back, where he was the only photographer on the scene. “This was the days of film. I heard of a protest happening outside Kelaniya University. Since there were violent clashes between the police and students immediately before this, all the photographers were back at their bases”, he recalls.
“I was taking pictures for a long time, and by the time other camera crews got to the scene, the tempers has disappeared.” After filing the shots with his own paper, he went on to hand over copies to the others who missed the incident. A brotherhood which is still shared by many.
The first to arrive at the scene, will almost always give some shots to the others who couldn’t make it on time.
That camaraderie is treasured by those who share it, knowing that the guy next you is not going to leave you in danger, is partly one reason why the shooters cover dangerous events in groups. Ironically, while the individual friendships are cast in iron, they are also members of a community that has failed to forge a united front, that however is a another story. It is more to do with the faults of those who manage the outlets than the foot soldiers.
Today however, everybody is here, and there is time to shoot.
The protest also catches the eye of a passerby. A member of Sri Lanka’s extremely small orthodox Jewish community walks his son towards the protest. The telephone wire box which earlier gave a platform for the photographers, is instantly transformed into a viewing stage for the little boy. The photographer from Reuters walks over and shoots. We watch.
Phone calls and texts are sent to the bases. “Things are calm. They are speaking. No sign of clashes. We have the shots. Shall we come back?”
What started with a text message, also ends with one.
Appa never came back – Vasanthi’s story
Vasanthi can now walk hand in hand with her Husband Vasantha, on the A9 road which runs in front of their home. The love for each other was all they had, at a time when all they owned and had were crumbling around them. Their dreams of being with each other, have now come true.
Twenty one year old Vasanthi who was earlier residing at the Ramanathan Camp and Menik Farm, has now had the opportunity to come back to where she calls home. Along with that, she has regained a chance to rebuild their lives which were shaken up and tossed around by the last phases of the violent civil war between the separatist LTTE, and Armed Forces.
Vasanthi was born in a climate of war in Pursandhi, Puliyakkulam, in Kilinochchi. Her father’s life was taken by a shell during the height of the war – a stark reminder of the childhood she had set to a background music beating with the sounds of bombs, gunfire and explosions. When the war came to an end, it took with it the home that they lived in.
“As the war climaxed, the fears in us grew. I remember at the latter stages how we couldn’t even sit down at one place to finish a meal” she remembers.
Her mind is drawn to that fateful night when the war claimed her father. “My brother and I were huddled up in fear. I remember an artillery shell landing in the front garden. And all of a sudden, all the fighting ceased – and there was silence. Appa went out to survery the damage”
Appa never came back.
They never had a chance to mourn over Appa’s body. They had to gather whatever mere belongings they had, and move to the next village for shelter, and the hope of safety.
“The army then moved us to the Ramanathan Camp at Menik Farm”, she recalls. Whilst the freedom for them to move about, or leave the camp was restricted, she says that they were treated well. “My brother is very small. He didn’t have the space to move about and play, that the other children of his age had.”
Vasanthi didn’t have the means or the ability to enjoy life’s little luxuries that came with her age. She had to make do with whatever aid that was given either by the Government, or the aid organizations who were working there.
But then things started to look up for Vasanthi.
Vasanthan, a neighbor they have known for a long time was also residing at the same Camp. Their world of romance was not that of movie theatres and long walks hand in hand, but one of being surrounded by automatic weapons and barbed wire. When all forms of normalcy were falling apart around them, Vasanthan and Vasanthi formed a bond, which was unbreakable. In place of sweet nothings being whispered, their love was limited to a clandestine winks, a camouflaged smile.
“When I was in the camp, the only thing I could think of was coming back to our home town, and to start our own little world” says Vasanthan. Their dream slowly but surely took wings and turned into reality. After the painstakingly slow process of demining was over, they could move in during the early days of 2010.
What greeted them however, was a picture of chaos. All they owned were now left as heaps of rubble, completely destroyed. But they had two things to be happy about – they had themselves, and they were alive.
“We were given the basic supplies to start out afresh” Vasanthan said. The Government provided them with roofing, and with the their own tears and sweat a two small houses came into life – one for them, and one for Vasanthi’s mother and brother.
Vasanthan doesn’t have employment yet. But Vasanthi now dreams of the day she can become a mother. Her brother, the ten year old Jayanthan still pops over whenever he gets the chance.
The heat from the A9 road blares upon their house. But for Vasanthi and Vasanthan, they have found love, and with it, they have found happiness. They are alive.
