Problematic Topographical Imagination On North-East

By Kusal Perera

(March 21, Colombo, Sri Lanka Guardian)
A colourful, sensationalised news report in the print media more than a week ago said “TNA seeks direct foreign investment to North-East.” Another said the TNA had dropped its “Separate State” claim from its manifesto. These were the two issues the local media thought were important for the Sri Lankan audience when the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) came out with its election manifesto.

The Indian Hindu nevertheless picked up on the “right to self-determination” phrase to stress the “pro LTTE” TNA, as the newspaper still prefers to see it. For Indian politics, that seemed more important.

Some in the government prefer to think that all of this will be relevant only if the Tamil people go with the TNA at this election. Some in the government tend to feel that the TNA can be “handled” effectively after elections, whatever the results. How many votes would they have to poll to claim they still represent the voice of the Tamil people, to be thus “handled” after elections?

At the January presidential election, only 25.7 percent of the 721,000 registered voters in the peninsula and 40.3 percent of 266,000 in the Wanni voted. That’s after allowing for the “dumping” of votes counted as legal. Overall, only 33 percent of Tamils thought they still have a purpose in voting at elections that are decided in Colombo. That being so, even with low polling at this parliamentary election, if the TNA gets a majority number of MPs elected, what would be the interpretation of Tamil politics? Would it mean they get a mandate for their election manifesto that seeks “direct foreign investments,” has dropped the “separate state,” but sticks to the “right for self determination”?

One may say “no” if over 50 to 60 percent do not vote in the peninsula and the Wanni. One may then argue that a big percentage has rejected the TNA. Yet what matters in politics is the voice of the politically articulate, and not the numbers or the percentages that vote. A high vote perhaps adds an extra kilo of weight to the political baggage.

The JVP/JHU would hardly get over the cut-off point of 5 percent of votes on their own in any election. With Sinhala “patriotism” and their backing for the war in 2008-2009, the JVP managed only 240,000 votes from all the Sinhala constituencies at the provincial council elections. The JHU, fielding Buddhist monks, lost all the predominantly Sinhala Buddhist districts at the April 2004 elections. They managed just 9 MPs from the urbanised multi-ethnic districts like Colombo, Gampaha and Kandy. Yet both parties portray themselves as the voices of Sinhala society, pushing major political parties to compromise.

What, then, is the possibility of the TNA turning out as an articulate, progressive “voice” for the Tamil people in similar fashion, no matter how many votes they receive at this election? What needs to be seen is whether their political manifesto could galvanise a dialogue amongst the Tamil polity that matter. A voice that Colombo and Delhi would not want to miss in political calculations.

With its manifesto the TNA has clearly positioned itself as the inheritors of post-war Tamil nationalism. It has to, as the war proved only that the government could eliminate the LTTE, heaping over 300,000 displaced and helpless civilians and three devastated districts on the old political conflict that still needs to be resolved, plus a society deeply divided along ethnic lines. The TNA therefore can not afford to lose its Tamil nationalism, with or without a “separate state.” This is the reason that their manifesto very clearly sets forth all the arguments used at the Thimpu discussions for a “Tamil Homeland,” including a merged North-East province as “A Tamil Nation in the Island of Ceylon.”

This time, there is nevertheless a difference. This time, after all the devastation of a brutal war, the TNA has to project itself, not as mere campaigners for a self-governing political system, but as a political entity that seeks “development” for the Tamil people in “the contiguous preponderantly Tamil speaking Northern and Eastern provinces.” The TNA has to take political responsibility for rehabilitation and future development of the Tamil areas for its own survival. The projection in the manifesto therefore seems intended for a possible Northern Provincial Council (NPC) to come.

In fact, the government has indicated several times that there would be a NPC. This, therefore, is the reason for this passage of the manifesto: “Direct foreign investment in the North and East will be facilitated resulting in new industries and other employment opportunities being created for our youth.”

This issue of “direct foreign investment” for a province is not only relevant and important to the Tamil people devastated by a 30-year war, but also for the Sinhala South. This Sinhala South had been deprived of any decent development since independence, with all things decided from the centre in Colombo. Yet that does not seem the way the South looks at it, although the TNA knows the Tamil people need power to their rural peripheries for future development.

The TNA also knows that there is now money that could be brought in for rehabilitation and reconstruction of the war-torn areas. The TNA also knows for sure that any money coming in under this regime will not be used to improve the lives of the Tamil people. The Eastern Province is ample proof of that, beyond all the waste and corruption. Any political connoisseur knows that the fate of the people in the East is not in the hands of the EPC, but is controlled from Colombo. So is it now for all Tamil people, despite what is being said for electoral gain. It is a political issue of importance for the TNA, therefore, to have access to funds.

This heavy centralisation by the Colombo regime at the expense of regional development is part of a political culture dependent on a benevolent “Sinhala King.” A political culture that believes their authority would be diluted if such a provision is allowed for the North and East, never mind their own development. Yet foreign investments going direct to the provinces is not something new, unless India is not considered foreign.

A media communique issued on February 18 by the Indian HC in Colombo said the High Commissioner of India, Alok Prasad, accompanied by other officials of the High Commission of India, visited the Eastern Province from February 16-17.

While visiting the East, “discussions were held on development plans of the Eastern Province and ways in which India can contribute to the development of the region. India has already provided ten buses for the use of the Administration of the Eastern Province and the Batticaloa Municipal Council. The High Commissioner also announced that Government of India will assist with the establishment of 20 Nenasalas in the Province and finance a project to connect Batticaloa and Trincomalee through a Rail Bus service at the request of the Chief Minister. Projects to assist the Education and Health sectors in Eastern Province would also be undertaken.”


Thus, there are occasions and perhaps a precedent for a province negotiating directly for foreign investment or aid. What is still uncertain is whether the Rajapaksa regime allowed the EPC to enjoy the benefits of India’s generosity.

Foreign Direct Investment (FDI) is officially possible in India for their state governments. The Delhi government has laid down a mechanism for FDI with the Indian Reserve Bank, laying down criteria.
India’s 11th largest State, Tamil Nadu, ranked 3rd in FDI by the year 2008. It is estimated Tamil Nadu attracted between US $4-5 billion as FDI in year 2008. Though Tamil Nadu has only 6 percent of the population, it is said to constitute 10.5 percent of total Indian industry.

This has been for India’s economic gain, not for “Tamilean separatism” in India. In fact, Indian political academics argue that, after 1991, when Delhi decided to liberalise its economy and open up opportunities for FDI, the demand for Tamil separatism actually declined. After 1991 the Tamil Nadu economy not only experienced fast growth, but also opened up to the “new world,” as they call it. “The discriminatory feeling, the argument that Tamil Nadu youth are discriminated against, is not felt now because opportunities are opening up in their own state,” explained an academic at a seminar on “Tamil Separatism and South India” last year at Loyala College, Chennai.

Yet there is some unexplained resentment, even in India, when it comes to FDI for the seven North-East provinces struggling to come out of brutal state repression. Delhi has installed state governments and is accused of having bribed regional politicians through numerous subsidy programmes and contracts doled out to those provinces. The system is wholly corrupt in these North-East Provincial States, and it is better left that way for Delhi. In return, these regional political leaders have connived with state security forces in ruthlessly cracking down on any opposition.

Asked about FDI for the North-East of Sri Lanka, after the TNA made its manifesto public, a journalist from Delhi, Sukumar Muralidharan, who is very familiar with the Sri Lankan conflict, had this to say:

“The North-East, I thought, was a problematic zone of the topographical imagination only in India. Glad to see that we have company there. If the North-East of India were to ask for the right to receive foreign aid directly, it would set off quite a pretty furor out here … not least in the south of India. But when it comes to Sri Lanka, should we say: do as we say and not as we do? The South of India has become the biggest champion of allowing the North-East of Sri Lanka that autonomy, while virulently opposing a similar concession to the North-East of India.”