On The Spot

Almost two years after the liberation of the east, Trincomaleeis far from normal

Victory is normality

By R. Wijewardene

"Again? Not again. Can't they let us go 100 metres in peace." For the eighth time the Trincomalee bound bus stops at a checkpoint on the Kantalai road and disgorges its dishevelledpassengers.

"It's easier to get from Colombo to Oman than it is to go from Trincomalee to Colombo," whispers a smartly dressed young man, on his way home after a stint in the Middle East.

The soldiers are generally courteous and the checks are rarely thorough - usually just a casual glance at ID documentsand at most a vague fumble with the contents of your luggage,but the stops are time consuming adding as much as an hour and half to each journey.

It takes seven and a half hours to reach Trinco at present; during the height of the short-lived ceasefire it was possible to do the trip in five hours. Once you reach the vicinity of the town the level of security, the sheer number of checkpoints and barriers increases still further; the presence of the security forces is pervasive.

Rhetoric Vs. Reality 

More than a year after the liberation of the east - the reality fails to match the rhetoric.

While development,stability and freedom were promised in the wake of the army's successful clearing operations in the east, the town at present feels, if anything, more tense and less normal than at any other point in the last seven years.

With soldiers lining the streets, check points at every junction and a general air of neglected isolation it's difficult at present to distinguish Trincomalee from Batticaloa. This is extraordinary as Trincomalee - with its large Sinhala population, vital harbour and reasonable roadand rail links has always been a government stronghold, unlike the far less stable Batticaloa.

Just under two years ago, shortly after the commencement of the government's present offensive, Trincomalee still retained the air ofa normal provincial town.It seemed to have more in common with Polonnaruwa than the frontline of a war zone - but todaythe town feels like a frontier.

There is little movement after dark andthe hotel bars andrestaurantsharbour only aid workers, who while away the evenings swapping horror stories about the condition of civilians in the Wanni.

Somehow liberation appears to have left the town more isolated than before - journey times have increased and far from evidence of a newly united, undivided Sri Lanka Trincomalee today seems to have drifted further away.

Many believed liberation would herald a new dawn for the east but on the ground at present there is a real feeling of occupation.

"Why aren'ttourists coming," laments the manager of a major resort. His enthusiasm is genuine and the beach frontage his property commands is genuinely spectacular, but with half the beachinaccessible on account of a neighbouring navy base and thejourney from hotel to townnow involvingstopsat as many as six checkpoints,the reality is that onlyhardened travellers would seek their sun, sea and sand on the east coast at present.

What's everyone afraid of?

The eastwas liberated in July 2007. The military's current operations involve clearing only a final pocket of LTTE resistance a hundred kilometres to the north of Trincomalee, so what is behind the continuing tension and security presence in the town?

What can the government and armed forces possibly be afraid of? 

"We don't know" was the ubiquitous, universal reply;  "there are no LTTE here," insistedeveryone from bus conductors and trishaw drivers to businessmen and hotel owners.

On that point everyone was unanimous - the government has driven the LTTE completely andperhaps permanently from Trincomalee and its vicinity.

But that does not explain the tension in the city. Two years ago when Sampur, within shelling distance of Trinco remained a bristling LTTE bastion, the town felt more at ease than it does today when all the areas within a 100 km radius have been liberated.

"We were assured the situation would improve but the checkpoints and the restrictions remain in place, if anything they've got worse, its been 20 years we can't go on like this," was the summary of a disheartened guest house owner, who after years of perseverance is considering selling his prime property.

Caution?

The most optimistic explanation for the heightened security in town at present is caution.

Perhaps the security measures are a precaution to prevent guerrillas from re-infiltrating the town and penetrating the newly liberated areas to the north and south. That explanationhowever reveals a flaw in the government's current military strategy.

It has been argued by those opposed to a military solution that victory alone without broader political initiatives will lead only to a prolonged occupation rather than genuine normalisation. To an extent, that seems to be the situation in Trincomalee.

This is troubling as Trincomalee is a government stronghold. If such an enormous military presence is still requiredin Trincomalee what sort of presence would be required to stabilise Killinochchi or Mullaithivu? And for how long?

Factional fighting?

Another possible reason for the tension in the town isthe possibility of infighting within the TMVP, whose power in the region has grown exponentially. However this seems somewhat unlikely. Trincomalee is firmly under government control and while Pillayan is said to draw support from the area, in Trinco town there has never beena large TMVP presence on the ground in terms of bases and cadres.

Karuna's support in the area is reported to be limited and clashes between the two competing wings of the TMVP with such a heavy military presence in the town don't appear to be an imminent possibility.

Control?

The final explanation for Trincomalee's fortified state is perhaps the most troubling.

It is possible that the security, the abnormality and 'apartness' in the town is a deliberate measure, part of a concerted attempt to keep the area isolated from the general public, international community and the media.

Only a deliberate desire to keep Trincomalee isolated would explain why, the town far from feeling assimilated, still feels like a garrison run entirely by the military almost two years after the LTTE was driven from the vicinity.

By keeping away the public - the media, tourists, NGOs and general busybodies the government can carry out what ever plans it has for the east - refugee resettlement, industrial projects without being subject to scrutiny, etc.  The region's assets - its invaluable harbour, its factories and mineral deposits can be dealt with as the government pleases - sold to its cronies or to India.

The town's outstanding natural beauty can be converted into industrial zones without the outcry that accompanies the establishment of such zones elsewhere in the country.

By de-normalising the situation the government and the armed forces can continue to rule the region as a private fief free of even the limited checks and balances that operate elsewhere in the country. Where governments are concerned freedom and normality can be an inconvenience, perhaps an inconvenience this government sees no need to suffer in a region where the military already controls

every piece of prime real estate and scrutinises every movement.

Normalcy

At the moment however it is too early to come to any definitive conclusions regarding the state of the town.  Fighting continues in the north anduntil the final battles are concluded it is impossible to expect complete normality anywhere in the north and east. What is crucial however is intention and how the government and military intend to act in the long term, and at present there is no sign of any serious intention on the part of the authorities to return Trincomalee to its rightful place as the thriving capital of the Eastern Province - a tourist centre and bustling multi-ethnic market town.

Ultimately for all the talk of victory there can be no progress in the ethnic conflict without the normalisation of the lives and living conditions of a people who have for decades been isolated from the rest of the country. While progress in the war effort has been rapid, in Trincomalee at least progress towards normality and genuine unity appears to be lagging behind.