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Gota, go! Crisis unites Lankans

The suffering masses took to the streets with a single slogan, never before articulated against any head of state of this country. And in this desperation, the slogans arising from hunger, weariness, and helpless resentment were blind to all the differences between the communities, their collective frustration bringing them together as no lavishly foreign funded NGOs and INGOs could achieve for the last 10 years after the war.

Gota, go! Crisis unites Lankans

Sri Lankan President Gotabaya (AP file photo)

A remarkable thing came out of all the suffering of the Sri Lankan people over the past few months. It united them across ethnic, religious and class divides in their despair, with their living standards taking a steep dive as the government mangled the economy.

As people’s lives turned to misery in long queues, and livelihoods were lost due to no fault of their own, the ruling classes grew ever more distant from the people. The people in turn, divided for decades by political manipulations of their insecurities, stood as one against the perpetrators of this economic crime against citizens. They stood most united in their anger and frustration against what they saw as the primary source of their sudden plunge into misfortune and pointed their collective finger at the President, to whom they suggested, not so politely, that he had to go.

The suffering masses took to the streets with a single slogan, never before articulated against any head of state of this country. And in this desperation, the slogans arising from hunger, weariness, and helpless resentment were blind to all the differences between the communities, their collective frustration bringing them together as no lavishly foreign funded NGOs and INGOs could achieve for the last 10 years after the war. They saw clearly that the government was indiscriminately insensitive and uncaring towards all.

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It was as if the country had decided on a reset, all the way back to the movement for Independence from the colonial rulers when the elites of all ethnicities, religions and classes worked as one for the country’s dignity and self-respect. 74 years later, they are together again, this time the whole people, standing as one against a different kind of tyranny.

May the people never forget the power that they generate together, visible in all the spontaneous, courageous protests that are springing all over the country. The Rajapaksa name, beloved, revered or feared ever since the war ended in victory for the state, is now mud. From Melbourne to Paris, from Geneva and Tokyo to London and California, the Sri Lankan diaspora deeply divided along ethnic lines at one time, are joining in solidarity with the protesting citizens of their country with one voice, demanding that the Rajapaksas are sent packing en masse.

Sri Lankans everywhere are impatient to be rescued from the disproportionate number of them occupying seats of power in this administration. The Rajapaksas in government who owned 75 per cent of the total budget allocation, are now also expected to own 75 per cent of the consequent problem. They are past being seen as any kind of solution or part of one. Mirihana, who’d have thought? Mirihana, a quiet suburb of Colombo, was happy in its anonymity. It became better known when Gotabaya became President and continued to live at his residence in a lane off the main road.

On the last day of March 2022 however, Mirihana was to play a catalytic role in Sri Lanka’s modern history. Mirihana was where the people’s spontaneous movement against the government suddenly and unexpectedly took off, reaching a tipping point as the candle-light peaceful protest was joined by residents from adjacent areas. As the swelling crowds marching towards the President’s lane chanting the now leading slogan demanding departure began to be covered by the TV stations and live feeds to social media, there was already a growing sense that something had turned a corner, that there was no going back from this. And so it was. After Mirihana, the deluge.

The genie was out, and will not be put back in the bottle. The subsequent violence in Mirihana, the burning vehicles, clearly not emanating from the residents of the area, the police brutality towards the protesters and journalists covering the event– meant as warning– has not cowed the citizens, already in such distress that nothing is likely to deter them anymore. Instead, it was soon to be used by the government as an excuse to clamp down on the growing number of planned protests. Inspired by Mirihana, protests started all over other cities and towns.

More were being organized as the simmering tensions building along main roads where the middle classes were protesting in silence were reaching a peak. Social media played its role in urging people to come out and stand on the nearest main road with Sunday, 3 April being declared a Day of Protest. The movement was gathering momentum, the people had lost their respect for the regime and more pertinently, their fear of the authorities, and openly agitated for the regime to step down.

With just a day to go for the Day of Protest, the government decided to roll out their response. The repression began. There was always the potential for repression from this particular administration, different from previous administrations as they poured an unprecedented percentage of the national budget into the military, while transforming the public sector through appointments of retired military personnel into its key positions. This didn’t go unnoticed by either the people of Sri Lanka or the international community keeping a close eye on the administration already facing accusations of human rights violations internationally.

The regime besieged only by public opinion, blind to the actual suffering of the people clearly visible to anyone who gave a damn, suddenly gazetted emergency regulations which went beyond anything issued before in this blessed isle which had seen two violent insurrections and a thirty-year war. The gazette was amusingly detailed in its prohibition of the people from being on the seashore, in parks, recreation or other grounds, in railways and public roads until Monday the 6th. While the people slept, the city was saturated with military personnel carrying guns and barriers put up at strategic points all over the city.

When a regime fears its unarmed citizens weakened by economic hardships, fears them enough to deploy men in uniform carrying guns to guard themselves, they have clearly lost the plot, and are moving inexorably towards a predictable destiny, not to their liking. The single most important barrier that had been erected by all regimes to date, which has now been breached by the people, is the disunity among the people of Sri Lanka. That barrier went up in flames largely thanks to this regime’s economic policies. In unity they have found strength and power, generating a momentum beyond their wildest expectations, inspiring renewed hope in the strangely resilient spirit of the people of this island, who refuse to be defeated as their determination grows with every repressive measure.

Already, the curfew has been broken all over the country, protests have taken place even though not on the scale planned and the people have sent a credible message. They want change. The diaspora is clamouring equally stridently, in cities around the world in large numbers, making up for the restrictions imposed at home, strengthening the sense of Sri Lankan community, globally as well as locally. It’s a great feeling. It’s not one that Sri Lanka will easily let go off. The unity forged in desperate times, may yet prove to be the making of Sri Lanka.

Sri Lankan politics with its dark underside of divisive messaging, will have to adapt to this positive change as it faces the challenge of saving the country from the ruinous path it has been on. The people will expect nothing less, and have now seen that they can insist on it. Together they have taken on a powerful government, which showed no empathy. As they stand united fighting, they don’t plan to fall.

(The Island/ANN)

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