Sri Lanka's elite are in the dark about gravity of war
A recent gag order on the media's military coverage continues, but was lifted for foreign journalists on June 5.
COLOMBO, SRI LANKA
When Sri Lankan forces repelled a raging eight-week Tamil Tiger offensive this month, the government of this deceptively tranquil island breathed a huge sigh of relief. Army sources reported many acts of bravery by Sri Lankan troops, who rallied after heavy losses.Skip to next paragraph
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Yet due to a news blackout, the heroism of the soldiers got scant coverage in the Sri Lankan press.
Press censorship here reached full force this spring when a stronghold called Elephant Pass was taken for the first time by the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE). The loss signaled a critical moment in a 17-year ethnic war - since the Tamil Tigers appeared ready to take the Tamil-majority city of Jaffna, giving them a capital for the separate state they desire in the north.
Yet with no journalists allowed in the war zone, and with an ongoing official 20- person censoring team - readers abroad knew more about the war than ordinary Sri Lankans.
Press censorship in wartime is nothing new. But the official strictures are now so pervasive in Sri Lanka, experts say, that they symbolize a deeper condition in which the jungle war - whose outcome still hangs in the balance - has become an abstraction in the nation's own skyscraper-studded capital. Most of the majority ethnic Sinhalese in Colombo, in an informal poll, have never traveled to the 90 percent ethnic Tamil north country.
To have reported on the heroism of the soldiers, for example, would also raise questions about the gravity of the war situation - and be grist for criticism of the government.
Indeed, numerous critics and diplomats say the distance between elites in Colombo, and the actual state of hostilities in the North, would require a novel like "Alice in Wonderland" to describe.
The ugly and petty infighting among wealthy ruling families in the capital has led to media controls that go far past reasonable measures, they say. Such a state slows a resolution of the war - which requires new levels of cooperation between the two main political parties, which have long exploited each other's troubles, even at the expense of the larger crisis in Sri Lanka.
"It is like living in a fantasy world," says Jayadeva Uyangoda, a political scientist at the University of Colombo, "The ruling class demonstrates an amazing capacity not to read the handwriting on the wall. This is a nasty time for us. The fall of Jaffna would have serious consequences. But we don't really discuss it."
Currently, Sri Lankan papers often publish white space or a "censored" logo where text has been edited out; the BBC and CNN TV cable feeds on the island are blacked out during reports on the fighting. Private newspapers are scrutinized by the information ministry more closely than the public press, in this highly literate society. Several editors and journalists say in recent weeks they have started a dangerous practice of self-censorship, rather than write stories that will get cut.
Technically, only war news and commentary that could "incite" violence is verboten. But in practice the guidelines are so fuzzy that the official red pencil marks out much news perceived simply as negative, editors say - from reports on labor strikes, to comment on how the war affects the local economy, to the fact that a government military recruiting drive for 15,000 soldiers has only netted about 1,000 new recruits. No live broadcasts are allowed.