‘Terrorism Tourism’ The Sri Lankan Way
By Namini Wijedasa -
Namini Wijedasa
“What I did was right,” read the words on the wall of chamber D-05, a small and dingy cell that still smells of urine.
Sivakumari, a Tamil woman, had left them there. The army believes she was killed by fleeing terrorists before the war’s end. She was among an estimated 76 people locked up in LTTE prison cells at Visuvamadu. Most of them were executed.
There are other, equally poignant, notes scratched into those dirty walls. An unknown prisoner in chamber B-08 writes, “Bad things befall good men”. Another nameless person in A-06 appears to profess his faith: “My mother, father, and Jesus”. Yet another has futilely scribbled, “Do good, speak good, think good, and good will happen to you.”
Order in chaos
The complex has 60 single-person cells and six group cells. It was opened by Pottu Amman, the LTTE’s feared intelligence chief, in 2004 and is believed to have housed men and women who had betrayed the organization, including spies for the government. The majority of them were Tamil.
The cells are miserable, poorly ventilated spaces. Some of them have ankle shackles on short chains attached to the ground. And each has an open latrine in a corner, emitting the smell of human waste. Despite their grate doors the air inside was heavy.
The military wrested this area from the LTTE in January 2009. Back then, it was a war-ravaged mess. Today, there is order in chaos here—chaos that comes from the hundreds of busloads of “tourists” that continue to descend on the Mullaitivu district; and order that comes from the heavy military presence.
Army detachments have been set up at regular intervals, amidst the rudimentary housing of war returnees who are struggling to regain their lives. With the war over, soldiers are now regularly assigned to guide predominantly Sinhala visitors on the “terrorism tour”.
The grueling excursion takes them right across the Mullaitivu district. The main attractions are the LTTE prison cells; two underground bunkers used by Prabhakaran, one of them built four storeys into the earth; an open-air war museum; a swimming pool that was used, not only for the LTTE leader’s recreation, but to train Sea Tigers; the home of Soosai, the Sea Tiger chief; the rusting wreckage of the Farah-3, a Jordanian vessel hijacked by the Tigers; and the entire stretch of land along the northern coast where the final battles took place.
Till recently, these places were off limits to outsiders—that is, for those who were not military or inhabitants of those areas. But now that restrictions have been relaxed, Sri Lankans from other parts of the country are teeming in. Many of them are first time visitors. (You must still register your vehicle at certain entry and exit points; there are no other formalities).
It is a backbreaking journey, by no means for the faint of heart. The main road is still under construction and one line of traffic is frequently halted for interchanges to take place. The internal roads are uneven and potholed. The dust is as invasive as the heat.
The tourists mostly arrive on buses or vans with the windows open. Among them are old men and women, pregnant women and babies. Some, particularly those from nearby districts, even travel on ‘Canters’. One such crowd—fromAnuradhapura—smiled broadly into our camera as they jolted violently along. Their faces were coated with thick grime. The back of their vehicle was packed with people, bedding, cooking utensils, water cans and provisions.
Indeed, many of these visitors bring with them all their requirements and buy only a few sundries from the north, like nelli cordial, dried palmyra roots or fruit. Even the sweets shops that have sprung up outside tourist venues are run by Sinhalese from Ratnapura. “We do the sweet shops everywhere, including in Jaffna,” said one trader, offering up some kalu dodol. And it is the army that operates the cafes adjoining the terrorist hotspots.
