War-torn Sri Lanka will be holding its first free election in decades this Tuesday -
By Wim Brummelman in Vavuniya

Nisha (19) has a friendly face with a shy smile. But behind her unsuspecting expression lies anger, she said.

For a year, she was forced to hide in a hole in the ground covered with leaves and twigs, on a plot of land near her parents house in Parantan, a village not far from Kilinochchi, the former 'capital' of the northern part of Sri Lanka, which is mostly inhabited by Tamils.

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Nisha hid for fear of being recruited into the Tamil Tigers guerrilla force. Only at night did she dare venture from her cramped sanctuary to wash herself, she said. During the day, her 12-year old brother would clap to warn her of imminent danger. When he did, she would try to remain as quiet as possible.

On February 11, 2009, her ordeal came to an end when government forces took her village and Nisha, her parents and her brother were able to escape. But they have been drifting from shelter to shelter ever since. At first they found refuge in a school in Vavuniya, only to be interned in a huge, isolated refugee camp three months later. They have been living in a makeshift home of sheet metal and palm leaves built just outside of Vavuniya, next to an aunt’s house, for some time now.

Nisha’s mother said she is grateful her family survived its hardships. But it is too early to rejoice. When will the army let them return to their village? Where will they get the money to reconstruct their destroyed home? When will they be able to work their land again? How will they survive in the meantime?

Nisha mother does not cherish high hopes for the presidential elections held in Sri Lanka this Tuesday. She has registered to vote, but has yet to receive a ballot. She remains indifferent to the matter. “I will praise the day that we return to Parantan to live in peace. Nothing else is more important,” she said.

Until recently, there was little doubt the incumbent president Mahinda Rajapaksa would win by a landslide. He and his brother Gotabhaya, in charge of the country’s defences, are the ‘heroes’ of the victory over the Tamil Tigers. Last year the mostly Sinhalese south of the country celebrated news of rebel leader Prabharkan’s death. Most Tamils, however, were left feeling lost and dejected.

Rajapaksa hopes for an easy re-election were dashed by a third ‘hero’ of the victory over the Tamil Tigers: former military commander Sarath Fonseka, who is running against Rajapaksa. Fonseka has given voice to the commonly held sentiment that the Rajapaksas hold their private interests too dearly and run the state as their own private, family empire. He has promised to institute ‘real’ democracy, fight corruption, lower the costs of living, economic development, and accommodate the Tamils.

Challenger has little experience

Fonseka’s strength lies in his ability to unite almost the entire opposition behind him. His biggest weakness is his lack of political experience. The parties backing him are so at odds ideologically that no one in their right mind thinks the coalition will hold. Still, with two Sinhalese heavyweight candidates, many analysts have predicted the Sinhalese electorate may split right down the middle.

If the Sinhalese majority is divided, the Tamil-minority (accounting for 12 percent of the population) could decide the outcome of the election. One might think this would boost the Tamils’ confidence somewhat, but there is little indication it has. The Tamils feel like they have to choose between two evils.

In the last phase of the hostilities in 2009, at least 7,000 Tamil civilians were killed. An emergency hospital in Vavuniya still houses more than 50 quadriplegic men, women and children confined to wheelchairs. Another 200 patients there are seriously injured in some other way. The atrocities of war have left marks that are still easy to discern.

Tamils might not excercise power

Like Nisha’s mother, most Tamils remain apathetic. They don’t know who to trust any longer. They have suffered so many hardships, have been disappointed often, and are busy just getting by that everyone is loath to speak their mind, said N. Thirugnanasampanthar, the second highest government official in Vavuniya. “The Tamils will remain silent witnesses in this election,” he said.

Thirugnanasampanthar (58), a Tamil, learnt to choose his words carefully during his career as a civil servant. He owns land in Jaffna, the town of his birth, but since the military has declared the city a secured area, he is not allowed to live there. “As a civil servant, I can’t comment. As a private individual, I won’t,” he said. He also refused to answer the question whether he would vote for Fonseka, who has promised to give back land to its original owners. “I am sorry, but I won’t tell you that,” he said with a smile.

When the Tamil Tigers still controlled the north, armed struggle was the only option. Now, in the first free elections the country has seen in many decades, the Tamil’s political leadership once again finds itself divided.

Some oppose endorsement

At a campaign rally in Vavuniya, parliamentarian N. Sivasakthi Ananthan called on the crowd to vote for Fonseka. “The government promised housing and development, but it has yet to deliver,” he said.

Ananthan is a member of the Tamil National Alliance, commonly regarded as the political arm of the Tamil Tigers. Sitting in his party’s offices, he was quick to acknowledge that Fonseka had yet to give any guarantee of autonomy to the Tamils. But a change of government would only be the first step, he said. “After that we will be negotiating with a new government and able to voice our demands,” he said.

Regional chairman G.V. Sagathevan of the Tamil United Liberation Front, another Tamil party, felt the Fonseka endorsement was unwise. According to him, not only are people able to make their own desicison, but, more importantly, the show of support might lead the Rajapaska supporters to take their frustration over a Fonseka victory out on the Tamils. “The Tamils have no real leader. A flock without a shepherd is wise to exercise caution,” he said.

His words are little consolation to the almost 300,000 displaced Tamils, most of whom have left the larger camps and are now staying in transit camps near Kilinochchi. “We do not know when we can go home,” a widow shopping in Vavuniya said. Nisha still longs for her village. “I want to make up for the year I have lost,” she said. Or go abroad to study. Opportunities beckon there that Sri Lanka cannot offer.