Chapter 4
Report to
Kilinochchi
The Smiling Minister continued to stare at the crowd, and his
smallish eyes narrowed in dangerous contemplation and his hand stroked his
thick black mustache—a near perfect duplicate of His Royal Highness’ mustache.
He needed to stall for time, to divert the students’ attention and anger.
So he decided to recite the Tamil Tiger’s battlefield achievements.
Their victories over the years were the main reason for the mass support by the
native Tamil population and the Tamil Diasporas. Maybe if he could remind these
students of the Tamil Tiger’s past victories, they would settle down and
possibly even fall in line. Some of the more well known victories had been used
as propaganda to collect money from the Diaspora. He stroked his black mustache
again. Which battle should he relate? Before he did so, he decided to bait the
students.
“My dear students, teachers, and staff of Vembady Girls’ College,
I’m glad that I have this rare opportunity to stand before you. I’m glad that
you have openly shared your views about our freedom movement. It warms my heart
to hear that you aren’t cowards, but true Tamils! You are highly intelligent
scholars and have rightfully resisted being manipulated. I foresee a brilliant
future for all of you. No doubt you will become leaders of the Jaffna America Canada United Kingdom Australia France Italy Sri Lanka
“Hooray!” the girls shouted enthusiastically. It is hard to resist
praise about yourself.
“Hip Hip!”
“Hooray!”
“Hip Hip!”
“Hooray!”
For a moment everyone forgot the tension, lost to praise from the
ever smiling Minister. The teachers sighed deeply, happily welcoming the
Minister’s change of tone and speech. They did not know the depth of subterfuge
the Smiling Minister was willing to descend to. If they did, their smiles would
quickly change to tears of fear.
The Minister flashed his huge smile, and the principal and her staff
found themselves relaxing, smiles of their own blossoming on their lips.
Somehow the Minister had turned disaster around. Somehow he had turned disaster
into a potential victory. The Tamil soldiers on the platform shook hands and
heaved sighs of relief. Perhaps they would not have to return in failure after
all. One whispered confidently, “His Royal Highness will be glad to hear of the
Minister’s accomplishment here.”
A few in the auditorium were not smiling, however. The history
teacher was trying to attract Sendhoory’s attention, and when that didn’t work,
she looked around for Head Prefect Mehala. She couldn’t see her anywhere.
Unlike the rest of the teaching staff, the history teacher was worried.
The Minister smiled even wider, if possible, and continued, “I think
this is an occasion that deserves reflection on one of the Tamil Tigers’ most
stunning victories over the Sri
Lanka Bay of Bengal .
This also allowed them to keep an eye on the Vanni region under control of the
Tamil Tigers.
“The world has witnessed a number of brutal attacks by guerillas
fighting for their freedom. But none of the actions of these other freedom
movements can compare to the battle where we captured the Mullaitivu garrison
of 4000 Sinhala soldiers and all their modern war equipment!” The Minister held
forth his walking stick for all to see. “This walking stick is in itself a
reminder of the great victory at the Battle of Mullaitivu.”
The intelligent students understood what he meant and clapped and
cheered for some time. The Minister, experienced at addressing large crowds of
thousands of people, believed that Sendhoory’s interruptions would come to an
end. His smile twisted almost in a sneer of victory as he contemplated his own
cleverness. He stood before the microphone and declared in a ringing voice, “We
defeated and disgraced the Sri Lankan government and military on a good number
of occasions. When the Sinhalese lions in their southern citadels heard rumors
that the Tamil Tigers were in their midst, they began to panic, screaming and
lamenting, running and hiding to save their lives!
“The Sri Lankan Sinhala Majority government plundered our ethnic
Tamil families, stripping them of their fundamental rights! Citizen rights!
Language rights! Education rights! Employment rights!
They passed draconian laws in order to haul Tamils off to prisons
without trials, to confiscate their traditional
lands in the East and North just to create Sinhalese settlements—to alter the
demographic pattern.
“But it was we, the Tamil Tigers, who made the Sri Lankan government
tremble with fear and mental anguish despite the support and blessings given to
the genocidal Sinhalese government by India China Pakistan United Kingdom
By now, viewing the rapt attention of the students and teachers, the
Minister felt confident that he could convince them to take part in the protest
march. Though he was a bit put out when he noticed a teacher in her thirties
wearing a blue sari trying to hide behind another somewhat heavy teacher. His
confusion evident on his face, he shook his head and muttered something to
himself. He knew that the intelligent students wouldn’t be so easily
distracted, so he determined to be careful and watchful.
The history teacher peeked carefully around her plump colleague,
watching the Minister carefully. She seethed at the Minister’s cleverness in
diverting the students with a bit of praise and a reminder of all the hardships
Tamils had endured under the Sri Lankan government. The Minister might yet
succeed in his designs. To head it off, she passed a note to a nearby student
and indicated that it should be delivered to Sendhoory.
Soon, a whispering campaign began to filter through the crowd of
students.
The Minister continued, “Be it known, my dear students, principal,
and teachers, that celebrated historians have even compared His Royal Highness’
great victories against the Sri Lankan military to some of the more world
famous battles of the world! His Royal Highness has been compared to the Duke
of Wellington who defeated the French Emperor, Bonaparte Napoleon, at the
Battle of Waterloo in 1815!”
Hearing such an absurd historical comparison, the history teacher
whispered to the teacher she hid behind, “The Minister is comparing the cat to
the lion. Wellington
Clearly, though, the Minister was on a roll. “I would like to
elaborate about the celebrated Battle of Mullaitivu, I mentioned earlier.
Including me, four thousand soldiers took part in the attack that started on July 18th, 1996 .
The battle lasted for eight days. We had to fight against an entrenched
garrison that occupied an area approximately 2,900 meters by 1,500 meters. An
open 8,200 meter long perimeter surrounded the camp.
“This was the headquarters of the 215th Brigade of the 6th
Vijayabahu Infantry Regiment and of the 9th Battalion of the Sinha
Infantry Regiment. There were ninety guard posts that surrounded the garrison.
“We launched our assault at 1:30
a.m. While dodging bullets, we had to cut barbed wires, clear
landmines that would decimate our troops, and penetrate the camp perimeter from
three sides. Four thousand Tamil Tigers surged forward like ocean waves, one
group after another. The first wave was cut down by vicious counter fire,
leaving many hundreds dead. It took us eight hours of fighting, crawling over
our own dead, to overrun the forward defensive lines and to reach the center of
the camp. There, we turned our attention to the ammo depots and armories.
“Meanwhile the Sri Lanka Air Force carried out strafing runs on
our positions all that day. On the 19th, however, an all-volunteer
force of 275 elite commandos of the 1st Special Forces Regiment led
by Lieutenant Colonel Lafir
was heli-dropped near the coastal town of Alambil
“The Sri Lankan military lost over 2200 troops while we only lost
340!”
Shaking her head in dismay, the history teacher murmured to her
fellow teacher, “The Minister has dramatically reduced the number of Tamil
Tigers killed in that battle. By all reports, they lost over 2000 themselves—almost
half of them!”
“Be careful,” the plump teacher whispered back, “the Tamil Tiger
spies are known to hide in the very wind!”
Taking a sip of water from a glass sitting on the lectern, the
Minister shifted a bit to study the crowd and gather his thoughts. He liked
what he saw. “We captured,” he went on, “significant amounts of weapons and
equipment from their garrison, including two 122mm artillery guns and a few
120mm mortars. The victory allowed us to dominate the Mullaitivu district! It
was a resounding and decisive victory for us.” He paused to allow suspense to
build. “I left that battlefield six days later minus one leg!” He thumped his
prosthetic leg with his walking stick letting the hollow sound reverberate
through the auditorium.
Students leaped to their feet and gave the Minister a standing
ovation.
After the commotion died down a bit, the Minister struck a heroic
pose and said, “I am going to observe two minutes of silence in respect for my
fellow soldiers who gave their lives during those eight days of heroic
fighting.” He closed his eyes, folded his hands across his chest and bowed his
head in silent homage.
His reverence became contagious as the student body, staff, and
Tigers alike stood up and bowed their heads to pay their respects for the
fallen warriors who had sacrificed themselves to establish a Tamil Homeland in
the northeastern part Sri Lanka—the ancestral homeland of the Tamils.
The Minister smirked to himself and stepped away from the microphone
to mutter to himself, “I’ll make these little whores lick His Royal Highness’
feet like slaves!” He would show them what happens when they threaten the Tamil
Tigers! You think you’re so smart! he
silently chortled to himself, well we’ll
just see about that, foolish girls! You’re nothing but small fry to us!
The Minister turned to Lieutenant Earless and whispered, “I’m going
to make the rebellious whore run from the auditorium in tears. Watch.” He
turned his attention to the girl who had challenged him. He smiled leeringly at
her and held his walking stick up and wagged it at her challengingly. “What do
you say about our grand victories and valor? Do you still claim us to be
cowards? The entire world trembles at the mention of His Royal Highness the
Tamil Tiger! What say you now?”
Sendhoory didn’t rise to the bait. She gave a perk smile, and kept
silent.
Encouraged, the Minister continued his verbal assault. “Miss Vembady
The poor Minister forgot the Tamil proverb, ‘he fell headlong into
his own trap.’
The girl sitting next to Sendhoory pinched her thigh to indicate all
was in readiness. Sendhoory got up from her seat and fixed the Minister with a
polite smile. The entire crowd was riveted on their young leader.
“Come on. What do you say?” urged the Minister gleefully. He thought
he had her cornered.
“Honorable Minister, it seems to me that you are trying to fly with
only one wing like the ghost that showed its antics to Colonel
Fazackerly .”
The Minister blinked in confusion. He had no idea what the girl just
said, being unfamiliar with Charles
Causley Colonel Fazackerly ’ which
describes a ghost living in an abandoned building performing tricks to frighten
off the Colonel. The Minister, afraid that he had missed something important
but unwilling to show it, pretended not to have heard her. “Come on, pretty
girl, open your mouth. Speak. We are eager to hear you, little madam.”
The last two words irritated her, but she didn’t show her anger. She
cleared her throat and addressed the Minister. “Honorable Minister of Political
Affairs, I wish to add my congratulations on His Royal Highness’s victory at
the Battle of Mullaitivu. Please convey to His Royal Highness my hearty and
deep felt congratulations on behalf of the students and staff of Vembady Girls’
College.”
“Thank you, thank you, cute little girl. Certainly I’ll take your
congratulatory message to His Royal Highness. He will most certainly confer
upon you the deserved title of ‘Bravado Damsel.’”
“Honorable Minister, I have a question.”
“Just one? My dear, ask as many as you want to!”
The stupid and emotional Minister might as well have asked a
hurricane to have a chat with him while sitting on a plastic chair under the
porch.
“Thank you, Honorable Minister. We are glad that His Royal Highness
has defeated the chauvinistic Sri Lankan forces so completely. The Sinhala government
is indeed scared of His Royal Highness. We are glad that he fought for Tamil
Eelam (Tamil Kingdom
“But now?” the minister repeated, dumbly.
“The situation has changed. His Royal Highness kills his own
countrymen—the intelligentsia, elites, writers, politicians, professors,
teachers, administrators, business men, anyone having a different political
view, people unable to pay their taxes, people reluctant to join his cause, and
anyone who has joined a rival insurgent group. He kills human beings in the
same manner as the health department kills malaria spreading mosquitoes. He is
the one that called these people his ‘umbilical cord relations.’ Yet he treats
them like mosquitoes!
“We already told you the names of the TULF politicians murdered by
him. Now there are no longer any talented Tamil politicians to lead the Tamil
community. We can’t hire intelligent people from other countries to lead our
people. It’ll backfire!
“I wish to quote a case in point. The elder brother of a teacher of
this college was a soldier in one of the other insurgent groups. One morning he
was caught at the KKS-Moolai intersection by Tamil Tigers on the hunt for the
blood of a particular rival group. He
begged them to let him go, saying, ‘I also took up a gun to fight for the
freedom of the Tamil people! Don’t kill me!’ Yet they shot him and threw his
body on tires in the middle of the road and set him on fire before his eyes
could close. They forced the principal of Union College Kathir Balasundaram
“The victim’s sister, only fourteen years of age and a student at
Ramanathan Girls’ College, heard about her brother’s murder and rushed to
Tellippali---KKS-Moolai intersection---with her mother. There they witnessed
the blacken corpse of their brother and son still burning in the middle of the
intersection. The teacher, even years later, carries this horrifying picture in
her mind and heart.
“Sir, His Royal Highness is killing his own people—people he said he
relies on. Is it any wonder that we hate him and curse him? He is a poisonous
cobra that never apologizes for being evil and furiously seeks vengeance on
anyone who he feels opposes him. He tolerates no one that doesn’t see eye to
eye with him. His atrocities and carnage have completely eroded any support we
once may have given him!
“We no longer follow His Royal Highness or any other group that took
up arms to establish a Tamil
Kingdom Sri Lanka
Absolute silence descended on both sides of the lectern.
A small girl sitting in the front row took the opportunity to stand
to her feet. She had only one eye, having lost the other in a crossfire between
the Tamil Tigers and the Sri Lankan military during a battle at Nallur, a Hindu
religious centre. She came from a very wealthy and influential family, and
everyone waited breathlessly for her to speak.
“Sir,” she began slowly, almost quietly, “one early morning, two
Tamil Tiger combatants went to a house in Nallur near the Kailasa Pillayar
Temple
“The deceptive insurgents replied, ‘Madam, we have a present for
you.’ They unrolled the sack removing an AK-47 assault rifle. They brutally
gunned down my grandma, Sarojini
Yogeswaran Jaffna
Dead silence followed that announcement.
The girl continued, “Honorable Minister of Political Affairs, I was
wondering if you could tell us why the Tamil Tigers killed my grandmother? Sir,
His Royal Highness says that we are all related, that we’re all family…and yet
he kills his own family like mad wolves in a sheep pen. You also killed my
grandfather at the same spot where you killed the former opposition leader,
Honorable Amirthalingam.
“Grandma lived alone, foregoing the security detail she was entitled
to as the mayor of the City of Janffa Mussolini ’s body in Milan
Like a colony of wasps swarming from a disturbed nest in search of
the threat, the girl’s heartrending story inspired many of the other girls to
rise to their feet to voice their own stories. Soon the Minister found himself
bombarded by stories of murder and atrocities from the crowd. He didn’t know
what to do. He didn’t know what to say. He glanced at the veteran Velavan
plaintively. The man mouthed, “Don’t say anything! They’ll drag you into a latrine
pit!”
One voice stood out from the rest however, compelling many of the
girls to sit back down to listen and arresting the Minister’s attention. “I’m not from Jaffna Bay of Bengal .
I was a baby when my father, Thambipillai
Rajaratnam
“Just for being at that meeting, the Tamil Tigers came to our home
and demanded that my father accompany them to their outpost for an inquiry.
They promised to release my father right afterwards. Two days later, when he
still hadn’t come home, my uncles went to the Tiger’s camp in Muthalikkuda to
find out what had happened to him. But the Tigers refused to allow them to see
my father. They promised he would be released soon and warned my uncles not to return.
Two months later, the Tigers returned to tell my mother to wear white sari and
mourn his demise…” she trailed off repeating that last sentence almost to
herself.
She straightened and continued, “Minister, His Royal Highness is a
murderer—a murderer of his own brothers and sisters. He is going to die one
day. He won’t live forever. I curse him. He’ll meet a death so shameful that
even his wife will not have an opportunity to wear the white sari to mourn him!
He’s mad. He isn’t even human! He’s a beast in a human form! Do you really
think that we’ll participate in this protest march? We’ll be there all right…to
throw stones at you!”
The girl’s fiery words reminded the history teacher of the Tamil
proverb, ‘The young calf will dare anything.’ Her obvious anguish over the loss
of her father brought tears to many of the girls’ eyes. Everyone was struck
dumb with silence.
As if that signaled a death knell, Head Prefect Mehala appeared at
the entrance of the auditorium and gave the signal for the students to dismiss.
Not a student uttered a word, each trying to preserve the solemnity of the
tragic stories that they had just heard. The Smiling Minister watched them all
leave, orderly, quietly, like well disciplined troops on maneuvers. He
swallowed hard, his disbelief at the students’ challenges and his rage building
at his impotence to do anything about it.
It took about ten minutes for the entire student body to file out of
the auditorium.
Standing near the back wall as if they had been nailed there, the principal
and teachers waited in trembling fear for what the Smiling Minister would do
next. Not one doubted the man’s evil intent. Only the Vice Principal, Mrs. Piriya
The Smiling Minister snatched a pistol from one of the soldiers that
had secreted the weapon away in his shirt when they had crossed the border. He
dashed towards the back wall, his face livid with rage, the pistol waving
threateningly in the air. The soldiers assigned to the Minister scrambled in
his wake.
Lieutenant Earless followed with another pistol, the young cadet
nipping at his heels imploring, “Sir, please may I have the pistol! I want to
shoot some of those bloody teachers!” The young cadet had a taste for violence
and mayhem that would in no way be satisfied until someone lay dead at his feet. The brain-washed twelve year old cadet had
already been given chances to murder someone by way of promoting him to the
status of a full-fledged ‘black tiger.’ He had always hesitated before so he
had yet to be blooded. But now, the cadet was furious, and he continued nagging
Lieutenant Earless for a gun.
The teachers shrieked piteously as the Minister marched towards
them, many falling to their knees and holding their hands out imploringly. Many
began to pray fervently to God for deliverance or a speedy end.
Seeing the Minister’s intent, Pandit Manka screeched , “We are innocent! We didn’t know what the
students would do! We can’t be held responsible for their stupid and horrible
behavior!” The Minister snarled and marched closer, his walking stick striking
the ground hard with each stride. “Please spare us! We beg you! We’re all
married with children! We had nothing to do with their foolish behavior! Have
mercy! Have mercy!”
The Minister pressed his pistol to Principal
Vasantha ’s forehead. For two
minutes he held that pose, his finger quivering on the trigger. The Principal
closed her eyes and just prayed.
Velavan touched the Minister’s left shoulder gently. “Sir, don’t
allow your rage to swallow you up here. If you pull that trigger, you will be
in violation of the Cease Fire Agreement and we can’t hope to escape the Sri
Lankan army already at the gate.” The Minister didn’t move, his eyes betraying
his desire to put a bullet in the Principal’s head. Velavan licked his lips.
“We can explain this to His Royal Highness. He needs to know about the
student’s rebellion and their refusal to participate in the protest march.
He’ll forgive us for not eliminating any of the traitors once he knows the
truth. Order the Principal and that foolish girl to report to Kilinochchi for
investigation.” He bent closer so that only the Minister could hear his next
words. “We will eliminate the others later on Jaffna Jaffna
The Smiling Minister relaxed perceptibly as the words sunk in. He
knew this to be the best course. He took a few deep breaths to calm himself
down. “Mrs. Velautham Vasantha
“Honorable Minister, I’m innocent of all this! I apologize for the
student’s behavior, but—”
“Come to Kilinochchi. We’ll hear your defense there.”
Pandit Manka blanched upon hearing the order. “Sir, the Principal is
69 years old! She has a heart condition that requires daily medication. She
pays her taxes! She is blameless. She had nothing to do with any of this.
Please don’t order her to Kilinochchi! Please!”
“Shut your mouth,” the Minister snapped. “You talk too much. Do you
want to report to Kilinochchi too?” Having backed the woman down, he turned to
the rest of the teachers. “I’ll soon get to the bottom of all this. I’ll find
out who is behind it. Be warned, you will reap what you sow. We’ll root out the
spy. Even a mouse hiding in a forest will not find refuge from our eyes.”
The Minister lowered his pistol and prepared to leave. He glared
around and noticed the teacher wearing the blue sari looking humbly down. He
eyed her suspiciously, wishing she would raise her head so he could get a good
look at her face, but she didn’t, and he didn’t want to waste any more time
with these traitorous teachers. Murmuring something under his breath, the
Minister stormed out of the auditorium his men following respectfully behind.
But before he made it all the way out of the auditorium, he
hesitated, glancing behind to stare at the teacher in the blue sari.
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