LTTE ON THE RUN : PLIGHT OF THE MUSLIM COMMUNITY IN SRILANKAN CONFLICT
A.M. Jamsheed Basha, Chennai-based columnist
More than two decade old ethnic conflict in Srilanka is most often regarded as one between majority Sinhalese and the minority Tamils. In this bipolar understanding of the conflict, the Muslim community seems to have no place, even though they constitute a large, close to between 35 to 40%, section of the population in the troubled
Muslims in Srilanka were regarded as a separate ethnic group. But then their language Tamil led them to be close to the Tamil rank and file in the region. So much so that some of their youth had enrolled for military training with the rebels like LTTE in the Eastern and
In the 2002-2005 peace process, Muslims grievances were taken up for redressal but with little success. No substantial policy changes were effected to address their grievances in earnest. The irony was the peace process had failed to take Muslim interests into account even though Muslim political actors were part of the government. As a matter of fact, the preamble to the ceasefire agreement, which set off the 2002-2005 peace process, referred to Muslims as a “Group not directly party to the conflict”. But the current regime with its pursuit of a military solution and a clear majoritarian platform has little interest in the problems facing Muslims.
A brief account of the plight of Muslims in Lanka dates back to October 1990, where nearly 75,000 Muslims were forced to leave their homes at gun point by the LTTE cadres in the
These displaced Muslims were living in over-crowded settlements in the impoverished district of Puttalam along with thousands of displaced Sinhalese people. The Muslims experience, however, has its own distinctive features, which are reflective of their virtual persona non grata status in the Srilankan polity. The story of their forced exodus is not widely reported by the western or Muslim press and hence few commentators give the expulsion the attention it deserves as a historical event that changed the lives of these displaced people of the North and East provinces.
The notable feature of this expulsion and ethnic conflict in Srilanka is that the plight of the Muslims does not have a place in any larger nationalist narrative, either a narrative of a liberation struggle (Tamil nationalism) or in a fight to safeguard the motherland (Sinhala Nationalism). They remain caught between the two larger groups. The tragedy compounded with the dwarf and inept Muslim political leadership which has not been successful in articulating its position in a manner independent of the two nationalisms dominant in the country. Hence the world community has largely neglected the plight of the Muslims as nothing but a marginal aberration in the ongoing conflict.
The end of conflict is in sight following the capture of the de facto capital of the LTTE. It is to be seen how the interests of the most neglected Muslim community would be taken care of by the new dispensation in the liberated land. It is also to be seen how the Muslim political leadership would take up the cause of the plight of the Muslims effectively in the days to come with the Srilankan authorities. In any event the sufferings and plight of the Muslim community in Srilanka should attract not only world attention but Muslim attention in particular.
The island nation's Muslim minority was driven into camps 17 years ago. Rising frustration over their plight raises concerns they'll turn to radical forms of Islam.
By Mian Ridge | Correspondent of The Christian Science Monitor
from the December 7, 2007 edition
Seventeen years ago, all the Muslims from
The Tigers' anti-Muslim campaign of 1990 is a largely forgotten chapter in
And yet it is one of the nastiest of the war – and it continues to do lasting damage. In the east, up to 1,000 Muslims were slaughtered by the rebels in a two-month killing spree in 1990, according to a recent report by the International Crisis Group (ICG). Here, where Tamils and Muslims coexist in neighboring villages, animosity has replaced their once cordial relationship.
Observers worry that some of the displaced Muslims here are channeling their frustration – over their poverty and living conditions and their inability to return home – into more fundamentalist versions of Islam. Most Sri Lankan Muslim women cover their heads with their saris, but in the east, women have started to wear the long black abaya for the first time. More fundamentalist Islamic groups – like the Jamaat-i Islamiya and the Tabligh al-Jamaat – are growing more popular here, according to the ICG.
Part of the problem is that, due to the geographical dispersal of Muslims in
While Tamils and Sinhalese define themselves in terms of their language and history, Muslims are only distinguishable from their fellow Sri Lankans by their religion. This, as well as a global resurgence in more orthodox forms of Islam, has intensified the religious beliefs and practices of some Muslims here.
Muslims are also the island's smallest minority: Tamils constitute 12 percent of the population; Muslims 8. And yet Shahul Hasbullah, senior lecturer in geography at the University of Peradeniya in Kandy, says a disproportionately high number of those currently displaced by the war are Muslim – "perhaps as many as 25 percent."
The ICG report notes: "In this context of rising nationalism and a constant search for identity and differentiation, the growth among Muslims of ultra-orthodox groups is not surprising. Yet, for the most part, Muslims remain moderate in their views and tolerant of difference."
RIPE FOR RADICALS?
Some worry that the young people in Puttalam – who know only the difficult life of the camps – are the ones most likely to be drawn to more radical versions of Islam, says Mujeeb Rahaman, who was evicted from his home in
"It hasn't happened yet, but there is a lot of anger, especially among young people," he says.
Currently, the biggest problems in the area concern the original Muslim inhabitants and the displaced Muslims. Relations between the two are growing dangerously tense, says a report published by the Campaign to Restore the Rights of the Ethnically Cleaned Northern Muslims, an organization formed by displaced Muslims, on Oct. 27.
The 75,000-plus internal refugees, many of whom have had children since they arrived, has doubled the original population of this area, putting heavy pressure on jobs, housing, and education. Puttalam's original residents are quick to agree.
"We did all we could for them when they first arrived," says Shahad Muhammed, an amiable businessman. "But they're placing an unbearable strain on resources. They work cheap, so they've taken people's jobs. They take education, healthcare, too. The situation has created a lot of hate."
Abdullah Mahmood Alim, the white-haired principal of a local madrassah, says: "In the mosques, our imams stress Islamic brotherhood to prevent clashes. But I worry about the future."
NEIGHBORS TURNED ENEMIES
Only two decades ago,
"I remember the LTTE guys walking through our village with their guns and radios," says Rizni Mohammed, who is from Mullativu and now lives in Puttalam. " Back then, they seemed quite glamorous."
But by the late 1980s the Tigers had decided that the presence of Muslims in their would-be homeland threatened their eventual control of it. This belief was bolstered when the Sri Lanka Muslim Congress (SLMC) contested the 1988 North Eastern provincial council election despite Tiger demands they boycott it.
Since then, however, the SLMC has failed to gain sway over most Muslim voters – highlighting the community's lack on unity. In the south, many Muslims vote for Sinhalese-dominated mainstream parties. At the last parliamentary elections in 2004, the SLMC won a mere 2 percent of the votes.
The war, meanwhile, rages as fiercely as it has ever done. In the camps of Puttalam, many older people seem miserably resigned to the fact that they will never, now, make it home.
After a cease-fire agreement was signed in 2002, several did return to the north. The few who found their houses standing or uninhabited were once again kicked out by the rebels when the ceasefire folded last year.
Mohammed Fareed found his farm destroyed when he went home to Mullativu in 2003. Sitting in the miniscule front room of his leaf shack, which is closed off from the family bedroom by a cardboard wall, the impeccably mannered former farmer says he thinks of home every day. "I lost everything," he says. "I miss everything."