US played crucial role in LTTE defeat - Gotabaya
September 13, 2013 07:50 am
One turning
point in the war came when the Sri Lankan navy was able to sink the LTTE supply
ships: “Between 2006 and 2008 we destroyed 12 of these floating armouries.”
What made this possible? “The Americans were very, very helpful. Most of the
locations of these ships were given to us by the Americans,” Defence Secretary
Gotabaya Rajapaksa says.
In an interview
to The Australian newspaper Rajapaksa added that American satellite technology
located the ships and enabled the Sri Lankans to hit them.
Full article
courtesy The Australian;
Gotabaya
Rajapaksa and Selvarasa Pathmanathan used to be the deadliest of enemies. Now
they have the same message.
I meet the two
within a period of 24 hours in Colombo, Sri Lanka’s largest city.
Pathmanathan, or
KP as he’s widely known, was for several months in 2009 the supreme leader of
the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, for many years the world’s most ruthless
and bloody terrorist group. For a long time before that he was effectively No 2
to the Tigers’ leader, Velupillai Prabhakaran. When Prabhakaran was killed in
May 2009, Pathmanathan took over the LTTE leadership until he was arrested in
September of that year.
You may not know
much about the Tamil Tigers. They were the most supremely deadly and effective
terrorist group to emerge at any time in the second half of the 20th century.
They pioneered two terrorist innovations -- suicide bombings, later copied by
al-Qa’ida, and child soldiers and child terrorists.
One of their
signature gestures was the cyanide capsule each cadre was given to facilitate
suicide in the event of capture.
The Tigers were
ultimately defeated by a military campaign designed and run by Rajapaksa,
secretary of Sri Lanka’s Ministry of Defence. A brilliant career soldier, he
had migrated to the US after retiring from the army but came back to help his
brother, Mahinda Rajapaksa, become President. From 2005 to 2009, Gota, as he is
popularly known, oversaw the military campaign that finally crushed the Tigers.
But in one of
those remarkable quirks of history, Pathmanathan tells me it was Gota who
ensured he was treated properly in captivity and rehabilitated him so that he
can now play a role in the reconciliation process under way between the
minority Tamil and majority Sinhalese communities.
The
Sinhalese-Tamil division is the central fault line of Sri Lankan history. They
follow different religions -- the Sinhalese are Buddhists, the Tamils are
Hindus. They speak different languages. They are ethnically different.
The situation is
complicated by the presence of 50 million Tamils next door in the Indian state
of Tamil Nadu. Some Tamils would like a separate nation in northern and eastern
Sri Lanka, although most Tamils live in Colombo and the south, and don’t
support separatism. The majority Sinhalese and the Sri Lankan state will never
allow partition. So it’s best if they work out a way to get along.
Meeting
Pathmanathan is quite a business. It takes many days of arranging, lots of
phone calls and lobbying of friends and acquaintances. A tall, straight-looking
man, cool enough, he strolls into the lobby of a big Colombo hotel. The
government provides him with a couple of bodyguards and I have been asked to
arrange somewhere discreet for our interview. Lacking a better alternative, I
take him up to a small coffee lounge on the hotel’s 18th floor.
The lounge has
two rooms and we choose the less densely populated one, but I notice that quite
soon people have recognised him and we are left alone. The bodyguards wait
outside. The hotel staff serve coffee and scurry away.
Pathmanathan’s
English is not bad, but over a long discussion I find it gets less good when I
ask him about personal matters, or about some of the Tigers’ more controversial
tactics.
Where did the
idea for suicide bombing, which the Tigers used to devastating effect, come
from?
“It was
Prabhakaran’s own idea,” he says. “We used it first in the 1980s. Actually, I
remember early in the 80s some people sat with us and we talked of the Japanese
in World War II and the kamikaze bombers. Somehow that came from Prabhakaran’s
mind. Also, in Tamil Nadu there was the tradition that people sometimes set
themselves on fire (in protest).”
Pathmanathan was
in charge of procuring military supplies for the Tigers and for years lived in
India, then Malaysia, Indonesia and Thailand, with periods in Singapore and
Europe.
“The state
government of Tamil Nadu used to give us direct support for a period in the
80s,” he says. Before Rajiv Gandhi came to power, the national Indian
government also gave the Tigers some support, he says.
“When that
stopped we raised money in Europe and North America. We raised some in
Australia, but Europe and Canada were the main source of funds.”
At one time
Western intelligence believed the Tigers raised $200 million to $300m a year
from the million-strong Tamil diaspora, and from a variety of illegal
businesses. They used this money to buy heavy conventional weapons, artillery
and heavy-duty guns, and even to buy ships. For many years the Tigers
controlled a substantial swath of territory in the country’s east and north;
they had a small but formidable navy and even a small air force.
No other
terrorist group has ever reached that degree of sophistication and Pathmanathan
was its central organiser. For a time he was wanted not only by the Sri Lankan
government but by the Indian authorities, who believed he played a role in the
assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, as well as by Interpol, MI6 and the CIA.
“Prabhakaran
made the decision to kill Rajiv Gandhi,” Pathmanathan says. After India sent a
peacekeeping force into Sri Lanka, the Tamil Tigers and the Indian army became
enemies.
“Prabhakaran
thought the Indians had tried to kill him, so he thought he’d kill Gandhi
first.”
Certainly the
death of Gandhi, killed by a female suicide bomber, was a turning point, both
in showing the world what the Tigers were really like and in turning India into
an implacable enemy of the LTTE.
Pathmanathan now
admits much that the Tigers did was wrong, but he also lists a series of
injustices and provocations that he believes the Tamil community suffered, such
as a language policy that favoured Sinhalese. But he recites this list
reluctantly. He wants his fellow Tamils to stop thinking always about the past,
because that kind of thinking only leads to more bloodshed.
When I ask him
directly about Prabhakaran, he responds, but with some reluctance: “Prabhakaran
was a very charismatic leader. When I met him he was a genuine, friendly
character. He was always willing to die for the Tamil cause. From the first day
when I met him, in 1974, to the last day when he died, in 2009, he never
changed from his philosophy, his determination.
“But also he was
never flexible, never willing to change to accommodate the changed world.
“He should have
been more flexible. It was wrong for him to kill his own people. Prabhakaran
became more like a dictator as the years went by.”
There are two
themes on which Pathmanathan and Defence Secretary Rajapaksa are strikingly in
tune: the key role the Americans played in the final defeat of the Tigers, and
the role they would both now like the Tamil diaspora to play for Sri Lanka.
Pathmanathan
believes the transformed international environment after the September 11,
2001, terrorist attacks led directly to the Tigers’ defeat.
But let’s have
Rajapaksa take up that part of the story. Gota is a national hero in Sri Lanka
and his office, next to the President’s compound in central Colombo, is crisply
military. He is sharp and precise and very businesslike.
One of the
greatest problems the Sri Lankan military had, he tells me, was that the Tigers
would bring in heavy-duty weaponry on big ships that would loiter outside Sri
Lanka’s waters while flotillas of small craft would go out and collect the
weapons from them.
“Most of their
weapons they bought on the open market,” Rajapaksa says. “Many of their
artillery pieces were North Korean in origin. They even had anti-aircraft
missiles. “Their artillery and mortar was often enough to match the Sri Lankan
army, or even more than the Sri Lankan army had. Their artillery caused a lot
of our casualties.”
One turning
point in the war came when the Sri Lankan navy was able to sink these Tiger
supply ships: “Between 2006 and 2008 we destroyed 12 of these floating
armouries.” What made this possible? “The Americans were very, very helpful.
Most of the locations of these ships were given to us by the Americans,”
Rajapaksa says.
American
satellite technology located the ships and enabled the Sri Lankans to hit them.
Before that, the Americans had been somewhat ambivalent about the Sri Lankan
struggle. They never remotely justified or approved of the Tigers, but nor
would they supply weapons to the Sri Lankan forces. Yet throughout the
conflict, Sri Lanka got most of its military hardware from Israel and Pakistan,
two military allies of the US that would probably have been susceptible to
American entreaties not to supply arms.
Pathmanathan
believes the transformation of American and international thinking generally
after 9/11 meant the Tigers’ path of armed conflict was no longer a viable
long-term strategy.
“We couldn’t
oppose the whole world,” he says. “But Prabhakaran was opposed to peace
negotiations. He used peace negotiations only as time out to rebuild his army.”
Pathmanathan says he constantly urged a negotiated settlement on Prabhakaran,
but to no avail.
The other issue
on which Rajapaksa and Pathmanathan present an odd unity ticket is the role
they would like the Tamil diaspora to play in Sri Lanka. Pathmanathan wants the
diaspora groups to drop all ideas of separatism, to stop trying to stir up trouble,
and instead come back and spend time in Sri Lanka, and above all invest and
build there.
Pathmanathan is
now involved in running orphanages and vocational training centres.
Rajapaksa makes
the same point. He thinks there is a danger of the Tamil diaspora promoting
extremism within Sri Lanka: “The diaspora should understand that they live in
countries distant from Sri Lanka. Mostly they live in developed countries and
enjoy all the facilities of developed countries. But some of them want the poor
people of Sri Lanka in this difficult environment to take up arms to further
their (the diaspora’s) ideology. They don’t send their own children, who go to
university in developed countries, who enter the professions. But they will
talk of the fight for a Tamil homeland -- who is doing the fighting?
“The diaspora
can raise money and make propaganda, but who will suffer from their efforts?”
Pathmanathan
makes a similar case: the situation in Sri Lanka today, especially in the Tamil
areas, is infinitely better than it was during the Tigers’ war. Who would want
to go back to the killing and the suffering? What his people want now,
Pathmanathan says, are jobs and development.
Rajapaksa
understands the challenge of reconciliation: “This is not an easy task, especially
for the people of the north. More than 55 per cent of Tamils live outside the
north and the east and have no issues of reconciliation.
“They mingle
with other communities all the time.
“But people in
the north were so long isolated from the rest of the community and brainwashed
into separatist attitudes. Although we have built a lot of infrastructure in
the north, reconciliation won’t take place fully overnight.
“It will take
time and the concentrated efforts of all the major parties involved.
“The majority
community also has to extend its hand to show that we can live as one nation.”
Later this
month, provincial council elections will take place in the Tamil north. They
may be a positive political development, or conceivably an occasion of difficult
polarisation.
But if Rajapaksa
and Pathmanathan can come together on the need for reconciliation and
development, and given the booming economy all across Sri Lanka, there is
surely a lot to be hopeful about.
Greg Sheridan visited Sri Lanka as a guest of the Sri Lankan government.
