“So, especially the media people should behave well and set an example to others. To me, those who stage protests with unshaven beards, long hairs and wearing costumes like in fancy dress competitions are not scribes who are clamouring for media freedom but a gang of thugs”.
The Daily Mirror, traditionally a moderate, reasonably independent paper stills seems to at least be trying to report what they can about the situation in Sri Lanka, and what the world outside has to say about it. Their coverage would indicate that they either don't know a lot more than the international media do, or that that they choose not to publish much of anything that can be perceived as critical of the government.
Such caution is certainly understandable, given how dangerous it can be for local journalists to work here. Even the Sunday Leader, which likes to call itself "Unbowed and Unafraid", recently promised, in court, to "refrain from publishing news causing insult and discomfort to the Defence Secretary", president Mahinda Rajapakse's brother Gotabhaya. Such developments need to be seen in context; many in the Sinhala-Buddhist majority seem to genuinely believe that there is an international conspiracy against them, spearheaded by the former colonial powers and a few other countries.
Oh, the Gaza connection: decipher if you can today's Sri Lankan Daily Mirror editorial, which made my Colombo morning even more surreal. Am I missing something here?
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So, "Foreign media taken on a free ride by the LTTE", according to the Sri Lankan Government's propaganda website "Media Centre For National Security" (MCNS). Apparently, many of us are terrorist sympathisers and, well, stupid. I might actually have been insulted, had I not been at the receiving end of similar accusations for many months now. And, one does need to try and stay in the MCNS' good books, because they too occasionally take the foreign media on free rides.
Saturday morning, 0500hrs, a military airport in Colombo; I'm reading the printed program for the day's "VISIT OF MEDIA PERSONAL" (sic) to, amongst several other unpronounceable locations, Pudumathalan, which is on the frontline to the LTTE-held "no-fire zone". After several hours of flights, briefings, displays of captured LTTE weapons, refreshments and rides in armoured personnel carriers, the motley crew of close to 30 sweating journalists and a handful of senior Sri Lankan military officers dismount "near the front line".
The television talking heads do their thing: "We're at the front line where LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran is about to face his destiny". Except we're not. The front line is four or five kilometres away. All we can see is a dirt road, Pudhumathalan lagoon, some very relaxed-looking soldiers and a few red buses, supposedly waiting to transport civilians coming out of the no-fire zone. Apart from the chatter of the TV crews it's very quiet.
The ultimate proof of how safely removed we are from what might be left of the war is that two of the Sri Lankan Army's most important general officers are happy to hang around and chat. Both are adamant that it would all be over soon if it weren't for the civilians. No surprises there; everything indicates that the Tigers are on their last legs as a conventional fighting force, and the generals are visibly proud to declare that the army has killed thousands of terrorists. The surprise comes when they say they're not killing any civilians.
Some people are getting hurt though. Our departure from the helipad at nearby Puthukudirippu is delayed, and while we wait several casualties arrive in ambulances, only to be loaded back in and driven off again after we try and photograph them. We start hearing the sounds of distant detonations, and for a few moments there is a real sense of a war being fought. Then there is only the noise of TV reporters shouting speculation into cameras.]]>"Ayubowan", is the first word a visitor to Sri Lanka hears on arrival. These days one could be forgiven for thinking it means something very rude. It doesn't, and the increasingly rare tourist would probably not suspect any hostility behind the still ever-present smiles. Until, that is, she or he makes the mistake of picking up a local newspaper. Traditionally fairly diverse, most Sri Lankan media outlets now speak with one voice to the "International Community", and the message is not "ayubowan", it's "mind your own business".
Increase the impact of the culture shock by going to cover what appears at first sight to be a peaceful demonstration against Foreign Secretary David Miliband by orange-robed buddhist monks in front of the British High Commission in Colombo. Nothing much to photograph (most people smile at the camera and ask where I'm from), and I soon get sleepy from the buddhist chanting and incense. I wake up when the monk speaking into the microphone switches to English. It turns out his rhetoric is somewhat less than peaceful, and within minutes he has concluded that Miliband "represents terrorism" and has come to Sri Lanka to rescue LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran. The monk, who has stopped smiling at this stage, gives no reason as to why Miliband or any reasonably sane individual or nation would want to rescue a Tiger with a reputation as spotty as Prabhakaran's. Some of the banners do though, by suggesting that Miliband is jealous of Sri Lanka's apparent success in "wiping out terrorism".
Granted, the monks at the High Commission are from the JHU, a small-ish Sinhala buddhist political party that rises to the surface by stirring up a murky brew of religion, nationalism and anti-pretty-much-anything-else propaganda. But the same recipe seems to also work well for other, more moderate Sinhala buddhist Sri Lankans. There is very little real debate about the war. Politicans and local media have all draped themselves in the flag to combat their two main enemies. The main foe is the Tamil Tiger, now threatened by the process of "eradicating terrorism", a term much loved by the spin doctors. The other enemy would appear to be us. In the eyes of many Sri Lankans, the international community has become an international conspiracy. Foreign governments, the UN, NGO's of all kinds, and of course the media are treated with suspicion and disdain. Many of the ever smiling Sri Lankans seem to genuinely believe that we are at best incompetent, and at worst have a hidden agenda. Hence, we the media simply aren't allowed to cover events in and around the no-fire/combat zone, and the "welfare villages" where the internally displaced are being held.
So when the Swedish Foreign Minister gets snubbed and leading international officials are vilified, there are, in the minds of many here, good reasons for it. More surprising perhaps is that many of the young and educated have wrapped their heads in the same opaque flag. The other day Indi Samarajiva, a brilliant young Sri Lankan Canadian American blogger publicly dismissed my colleagues and me as a "tourists". And he didn't even smile and say "ayubowan".
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