Unbowed and Unafraid

Armed police officers seal the
Leader
press in May 2000

One of the bullet-riddled vehicles at
Lasantha’s residence

Journalists inspect the charred remains
of their press
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A copy of last Wednesday’s
Morning
Leader that survived the inferno |
By
Vimukthi Yapa
From its inception in 1994,
The Sunday Leader's editors and scribes were
presented with a special gift from their
publishers: a pledge of editorial freedom.
It was this special carte
blanche that was most responsible for The
Leader's ascension as one of the strongest
foci of liberal democratic values in Sri
Lanka. The newspaper was quick to discover
and indiscriminately expose regular acts of
corruption by the ministers and officials of
every government that has come into office
since, regardless of political complexion.
Thus The Leader newspapers
and its writers have frequently been
threatened and come under attack by those
exposed in its pages, and those opposed to
its values.
"I will show you
what it is to be scared! I will rest only
once I have destroyed you! You wait and
see!"
— President Mahinda
Rajapakse
One of the first and to date
most twisted stones cast at this newspaper
was in 1995, following a spate of exclusive
exposures on corruption at the government
owned national carrier Air Lanka, now
SriLankan Airlines.
Attacked
At around 11 pm on Tuesday,
February 7, 1995 the Editor-in-Chief of The
Sunday Leader Lasantha Wickrematunge and his
wife were driving home when they noticed
what they thought was a broken down vehicle.
When they stopped to offer assistance, a
brutal ambush was sprung. Four masked men
sprang from the vehicle armed with clubs and
nail-spiked poles, physically thrashing
Lasantha to the ground, and unleashing what
was left of their fury on his helpless wife,
beating her as well, before making their
hasty escape.
Lasantha was hospitalised
briefly with cuts and bruises, but after he
was discharged, the work of the paper
continued unabated. Despite a complaint made
by the Wickrematunges to the police, not a
single suspect was ever arrested in
connection with the case, and the
perpetrators walk free to this day.
As the work of The Leader
continued and grew in tenacity, its growing
list of enemies sought more means to silence
its Editor and thus stifle its string of
damning expos‚s. Three years after the first
attack on the Wickrematunges, spiked poles
and clubs had ceased to be the order of the
day for politicians irritated by continuing
exposures of corruption and incompetence in
The Sunday Leader.
In mid-1998 details of the
backroom dealings and improprieties that led
to the privatisation of Air Lanka through a
sale of its stock to Emirates were laid bare
in The Leader. This series of expos‚s put
graft in the order of millions of dollars
before the public eye, and was clearly not
to the liking of many. How better to muzzle
the press than by going Mafia style, using
military-spec assault rifles against
journalists?
Automatic fire
In the second week of June,
1998, Wickrematunge began to notice that his
house was under surveillance. A mysterious
white van with tinted windows was regularly
parked outside the premises. On June 17
Wickrematunge and his wife attended a
dinner, where they exchanged pleasantries
with some cricketers before returning home
at around 11 pm. About 10 minutes later they
heard what they initially thought was an
explosion of firecrackers. A few seconds and
several shattered panes of glass later they
realised that they were under attack.
Wickrematunge, his wife,
children, and domestic aides dived for cover
as their house in Nugegoda was bombarded by
heavy penetration ammunition from weapons of
war, shattering windows, chiselling at the
walls, and effortlessly cutting through the
garage gate to severely damage the two
vehicles parked inside the residence. A
driver nearly lost his life as he ducked
behind a jeep in the garage, bullets
whizzing bare inches from his neck.
Thankfully, no one was injured.
Inspections later revealed 40
empty T-56 bullet cartridges strewn on the
road outside the house. This heavily armed
assault team also managed to vanish into
thin air, despite the country being on a war
footing and the suburbs of Nugegoda being
littered with checkpoints.
Were the culprits ever found?
Was a suspect ever questioned or an arrest
made? Did the government or any local
authority really lift a finger to apprehend
and bring to justice those responsible for
an act of such barbarism? The answers are
no, no, and of course, no.
Harassment
It was later that same year
that the government officially engaged in
harassing The Sunday Leader. The paper had
carried a story on July 26 producing a
letter written by two members of the Bribery
Commission to then Speaker of Parliament,
K.B. Ratnayake, urging that he remove two
ministers, Jeyaraj Fernandopulle and G.L.
Peiris, from a Parliamentary Select
Committee that was probing their own
conduct!
Both ministers refused point
blank to step down from the committee, and
the result of the expos‚ was a concerted
campaign to dislodge the two bribery
commissioners, T.A. De S. Wijesundera and
Rudra Rajasingham, from their office.
As a part of this campaign,
CID officers were dispatched on August 14,
1998 to the office of The Sunday Leader
demanding a statement from Editor-in-Chief
Lasantha Wickrematunge on who it was that
had leaked the letter about the ministers to
the newspaper. Of course, The Sunday Leader
has never revealed its sources, and never
will. In response to the CID's
interrogation, Wickrematunge insisted that
the CID record his response: why had they
not recorded a statement regarding the
shooting up of his house a mere two months
earlier?
The next serious challenge
posed to the newspaper was a legal one in
2000, precipitated by the military setbacks
suffered in the north as a result of
political meddling in the armed forces. On
April 22, 2000 the LTTE attacked the
military complexes at Elephant's Pass,
over-running the base and quickly pushing
the armed forces further north towards
Jaffna.
The embarrassment led to the appointment by
the government of a media censor to block
all reporting on the military situation.
Censorship
This led, amongst other
stipulations, to the broadcast of foreign TV
news services being suspended in the country
and all newspaper articles pertaining to the
war being screened by the government.
Needless to say, most of the content the
government sought to prevent from being
published was an effort to hide its own
incompetence. The Sunday Leader was quick to
prove beyond doubt with an expos‚ published
on May 14, 2000 that the censorship itself
was aimed at protecting the government
rather than the armed forces.
The paper sent two articles
to the censor, one blaming the entire state
of the nation on the government and the
other identical, except blaming the UNP and
the leader of the opposition for the same.
Guess what? The article about the government
was rejected outright and that blaming the
UNP was approved with barely a single
change. How could a government with that
much egg on its face defend itself other
than by shooting journalists?
By mid-May panic had engulfed
the whole country, with the over-running of
the army camp at Palai by the LTTE, as it
was mistakenly thought that the Air Force
Base at Palali - the last major military
bastion in the north - had been captured
instead. Later news began to spread about a
large scale LTTE attack on Palali itself,
and terror gripped the nation, which was
kept in the dark on what was going on.
The Sunday Leader took the
view that the way in which the media
censorship operated was unconstitutional,
and so published on May 21, on its front
page, an article titled 'War in Fantasy Land
- Palali not under attack' in an attempt to
tell the public what was 'not' happening in
the north.
Sealed
The very next day, agents of
the government arrived en masse at our press
in Ratmalana and surrounded it, locking it
up and shutting it down under powers claimed
had been vested under the director of
information through Section 14 of the
Emergency Regulation No. 1 of 2000.
Leader Publications filed a
fundamental rights application in the
Supreme Court stating that its right to
equality under Section 14 of the
Constitution had been infringed by the
shut-down of the paper. A three judge bench
of the court heard the case and, on June 30,
2000 gave a judgement in favour of the
newspaper.
The court not only overturned
the ban on publication and sealing of the
press, but invalidated the censorship
regime, calling it unconstitutional, and
ordered that the paper be re-opened.
The Sunday Leader has not
been victimised only by governments lead by
the SLFP. It was during Ranil
Wickremesinghe's tenure as prime minister
that a threat to murder the Editor-in-Chief
was uttered in the corridors of parliament
by a sitting cabinet minister.
The Sunday Leader had in July
2003 begun running a series of exposes into
corruption in the ministry of then-UNP
Minister Mahinda Wijesekera. As quoted
without contradiction in reports published
by several rights groups, he responded with
these words aimed at Lasantha uttered in
rage at the parliament complex: "very soon
I'll put him in a room and have him shot or
he will be stabbed to death!"
From hero to zero
When Mahinda Rajapakse was
sworn in as prime minister in April 2004,
The Sunday Leader warmly welcomed him to
office stating in our very next editorial
that "We at The Sunday Leader cannot hide
our pleasure at welcoming Mahinda as the
country's next prime minister." We also set
a precedent in the warmness of that welcome
by referring to Rajapakse throughout that
editorial by his first name.
It was just over a year later
that the same pages bore the politically
tragic details of his now infamous 'Helping
Hambantota' scam.
Sadly, Rajapakse had not
lived up to the expectations the country had
of him. The actions today of the Rajapakse
brothers demonstrate that Helping Hambantota
was but a modest beginning.
This viewpoint cost The
Leader dearly and on October 16, 2005 the
premises of The Leader's press were raided
by an armed gang, which assaulted and
threatened employees, and set fire to
newspapers and machinery before taking
flight. Thankfully Leader staff had been
able to extinguish the fire, thereby saving
the printing press from destruction. No
action to apprehend those responsible was
ever taken by the police.
Even after Rajapakse won
office as President in November 2005, the
newspaper continued to perform its duties
unabated, earning a vicious threat from our
Chief Executive.
Editor-in-Chief Lasantha
Wickrematunge received a phone call on his
mobile at 11:13 am on January 11, 2006. The
man who ultimately came on-line at the other
end was the elected Executive President of
the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri
Lanka: His Excellency Don Mahendra Percy
Rajapakse.
Rajapakse had a lot to say,
and he chose his epithets carefully from the
choicest available in the Sinhala lexicon.
Here is a reminder of some of the things the
President said:
"F**k your mother, you son
of a bloody wh**e!"
"I will finish you!"
"I treated you well all this
while. Now I will destroy you. You don't
know who Mahinda Rajapakse is. You watch
what I will do to you!"
Not quite, perhaps, what his
alma mater, Thurstan
College, expected of its alumni.
Over nothing
Uncharacteristically rattled
by Rajapakse's outburst, Wickrematunge had
inquired what exactly it was that Rajapakse
was so upset about. The President was
referring to an article about his wife
Shiranthi, that simply did not exist in that
day's Morning Leader. Lasantha had explained
that such an article was a figment of the
President's imagination: someone had been
feeding him meat.
He had added, addressing
Rajapakse by his familiar first name, "Mahinda,
just because you are President, do not talk
in that threatening way. We don't get
intimidated by threats. Tell us what it is
we are supposed to have written."
And how did the duly elected
President of Sri Lanka respond?
"You are not scared!"
"I will show you what it is
to be scared. I will rest only once I have
destroyed you. You wait and see. You don't
know who Mahinda Rajapakse is."
Just a month later, on
February 21, 2006, Lasantha was harassed by
immigration officials acting on the dictates
of the government as he waited to board a
plane at
Bandaranaike International
Airport, to attend the Geneva
peace talks.
Detained
Wickrematunge arrived at the
airport and presented his passport to
emigration officials who held him up and
questioned him for over half an hour. It was
only when Wickrematunge broadcast his plight
on Sirasa Radio via his mobile phone that
authorities received a hasty message from
Colombo to let him through, a mere five
minutes before his flight was to depart.
It was later revealed by
Immigration and Emigration Chief P.B.
Abeykoon that the National Intelligence
Bureau (NIB) had issued orders to prevent
one "Wickrematunge" from leaving the
country, thus the holdup.
Luckily for them, only 'one'
Wickrematunge happened to pass through the
airport on that day. Heaven help the airport
authorities should the NIB order them to
detain every "Perera," "Silva" or "Mohamed"
that arrives at the airport.
Next up in this sordid saga
was the attempt made by the government to
actually arrest Wickrematunge on December
28, 2006, for 'endangering national
security' by publishing the details of a
luxury bunker to be built in the
presidential complex. That exposure was
considered a threat to national security,
even though the plans for the bunker were
publicly available. Annoyingly for Rajapakse,
The Sunday Leader had in advance of
publication of the details sought a
clarification from Director General, Media
Centre for National Security, Lakshman
Hulugalle.
The trusty Daily News slipped
in a 'Talking Point' article on their
December 28, 2006 issue hinting at the
Attorney General to give a green light for
Wickrematunge's arrest. Ultimately the
pressure brought to bear on the government
was too great and moves to arrest the Editor
without the approval of then Attorney
General, K.C. Kamalasabeyson, which
approval, correctly, was not given, stopped
cold.
Bizarre episode
Perhaps the most bizarre of
the attacks against this newspaper took
place just last month with the arbitrary
incarceration by the CID of young journalist
Arthur Wamanan and his mother, who was later
forced to leave her son in custody at the
CID's notorious fourth floor. Wamanan was
arrested based purely on a statement made to
the CID by Minister Mano Wijeratne.
The CID tried their very best
to hold Arthur in remand, but were
ultimately forced to produce him in court in
the full glare of the public and the media.
When the Chief Magistrate of
Mount Lavinia asked what the CID's
objections to bail were, pat came the answer
from the CID Chief Inspector presenting the
case: "His family is from the north, and he
lives in Wellawatte." That a man charged
with enforcing the law, protecting the
public, and seeking justice would say such a
thing in court to justify an arrest, in
itself proves how vital it is that The
Leader and other institutions keep the flag
of liberal democratic values flying in Sri
Lanka.
Commando style
Earlier this week, an armed
group of masked men burst into the press of
The Leader newspapers for the second time in
two years - this time in commando style.
They surrounded the press
building, apprehending at gunpoint every
person present, forcing them to kneel in a
line and surrender their mobile phones. No
mistakes this time, they were determined to
finish the job. A few petrol bombs later,
and the printing machine put out of use, the
goons fled in their four wheel drive
vehicles through the high security zone.
Notwithstanding this cowardly
attack, we will continue to publish. That
many pages of today's issue are in black and
white serve to highlight the determination
and courage of this newspaper's loyal and
dedicated staff to bring you this newspaper.
Come what may, The Leader
newspapers will continue to prove to its
detractors that the pen is mightier than the
sword.
We will prevail...unbowed,
and unafraid.
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