Zones apart

They are two different worlds - Sri Lanka's war-torn North and East and peaceful South.

B. MURALIDHAR REDDY in Kanthale, Trincomalee, Kinniya, Sampur and Hambantota

ROAD travel on the 300-odd-kilometre Colombo-Trincomalee highway is a sheer joy in normal circumstances. With the undeclared war between the government forces and the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) in full swing, the situation is far from normal. The only consolation is that at least half the length of the journey is still pure pleasure, notwithstanding the occasional interruption by a friendly policeman, for driving at 55 km an hour. The narrow highway with heavy traffic necessitates speed restrictions.

There can be no complaints there, at least not for the tourist. The lush landscape, dotted with high-density villages, provides a visual treat. There is no dearth of restaurants, bars and motels with crooners in attendance to entertain the traveller. The land is geared for the tourist, and geared with the famous Sri Lankan signature - eternal smile.

The setting changes dramatically as one nears Aluthoya, located near the well-known tourist town Habarana. The natural surroundings are the same. However, the olive green uniform of the Sri Lanka military here dazzles, suggesting that one is about to enter the eastern territory, which has been the theatre of intense battles in the past few months. As an indication of how irrelevant the 2002 Cease Fire Agreement (CFA) has become, the zone is dotted with check-posts and sentry points.

People in all modes of transport disembark with their baggage and go through the customary security check and identification parade before proceeding on their onward journey. Every moving object is suspect and the process is repeated at umpteen points.

There are special buses that transport forces. They have no seats and are fitted with a metallic buffer on the front and rear to soften effects of a possible claymore attack. A precaution against an invisible enemy.

Reasons for the overwhelming military presence on the highway and the extraordinary security drills are further amplified as one enters Kanthale, a small, dusty town of 18,000-odd people. It was inundated with 25,000-odd displaced persons from the nearby Muttur town, which was devastated in the battle between the Tigers and the military in the first week of August. The refugees are all over Kanthale, in schools and religious institutions and in the open fields.

Indeed, they appear to be victims of a sinister game. Each one has a tale of horror to narrate, but makes the same plea. "Please take your battle elsewhere. Leave us in peace. It is a fight started by the LTTE and joined by the government and we are the cannon fodder," says Rajana Ummah.

By all accounts, two pamphlets surfaced in the town in July in the name of the LTTE with a stern message. "Leave the town in your own interest" was the cryptic message to the 50,000 citizens of the Muslim-dominated town. "The Army and the authorities told us not to worry. Our ulema [clergy] took up the matter even with the Tigers and they said some one was trying to defame them. So we stayed on, only to be greeted with chaos," Rimozo and her husband, lodged in one of the make-shift camps, bemoan.

The refugees are on tenterhooks, and for different reasons. "The shacks are not water-proof; one sharp shower can herald serious problems. The families have no privacy. Children will lose an academic year, with no certainty on their return. Those lodged in schools have to move out sooner than later. It is a nightmarish situation," says Philip Manuel, programme officer, Oxfam, a non-governmental organisation looking after the water and sanitation needs of the displaced.

The administration does not want to give any comfort to the refugees. "After all it is a matter of prestige for the government. Having recaptured Muttur, the authorities would like the people to return to their town. A populated town is the best bet for the military to hold on to Muttur. No wonder little is done by the administration to look after the displaced. They are not happy with the NGOs [non-governmental organisations] as they believe that their work in the camps is prolonging the stay of the refugees," says a social worker, who does not wish to be identified.

In the second week of September, under pressure from the local authorities and the military, most of the displaced poor were escorted back to Muttur. A press party, conducted by the military, witnessed the horror caused by the LTTE's invasion and its aftermath. The damage caused to buildings by the indiscriminate exchange of gunfire is still fresh.

The people who have just returned after a great deal of persuasion and liberal use of state power were struck by a second tragedy in end-September. Panic gripped the town and a fresh exodus started after two pamphlets surfaced in the name of an unknown Tamil organisation asking them to leave. The government has blamed the LTTE for the act and the Tigers have replied in the same coin. Whoever is behind the leaflets, they have surely dealt a blow to confidence levels.

In the recently captured Sampur town, the military proudly demonstrates to the media the "liberated territory". It has reasons to celebrate. Sampur had been under direct or indirect control of the Tigers since 1994 and it is from here that the LTTE targeted the vital installations in Trincomalee and wreaked havoc on Muttur.

For all the hype about the "fall of Sampur", it is amazing that until the last week of July the last posts of the Tigers and the military were almost facing each other. Literally, minutes after the last post of the Sri Lanka Army, the LTTE had built impressive administrative and obviously military infrastructure.

There was hardly any sign of the fighting that took place in Sampur when journalists visited the place in the second week of September. The military commanders concede that the retreating LTTE cadre dismantled all useful military infrastructure. What fell into the hands of the military was "barren land" though its importance cannot be underestimated in strategic and economic terms.

But several questions regarding Sampur remain unanswered. Why did the Tigers vacate the place? Was it the consequence of a military defeat or a case of strategic retreat? Where have the "civilians", estimated to number 10,000, disappeared?

Trincomalee town, which houses one of the world's finest natural harbours, is a ghost town. "We wake up and sleep to sounds of shelling. The LTTE is eyeing the Sri Lanka Navy and Air Force bases and the military is determined to neutralise the Tigers' base, situated 10 miles [16 km] across the naval base. The shell-to-shell confrontation has taken a toll on the social and economic life of this beautiful town," said M. Yogeswaran, who is associated with an international NGO.

Business in the town has been hit and the hospitality industry is down in the dumps. Occupancy rates in the hotels and motels along its coast are down to 15 or even 10 per cent. "I have not entertained more than half a dozen customers in a day for over three months now. I am yearning for those good old days," says Tilakaratne, the bar tender at one of the best seaside hotels in the town. "With pleasure," was how he handed over to this correspondent a copy of the bar menu as a memento.

Trinco, as it is popularly called, is no ordinary town. The British, after consolidating their presence in the island's maritime provinces, realised the strategic significance of this eastern port city and decided to fortify it. The fort was constructed to monitor both the land and the sea from a single observation point.

By all standards, the geographic location of Trinco is of tactical importance. It lies on an elevated land and can keep a number of ships without being observed by others sailing in the nearby seas.

Kallar, Thoppur, Seruwila, Mahindapura, Selvanagar, Pachchanoor, Kattaparichchan, Galkanda, Muttur, Ichchalanpattu and Sampur are some of the scattered habitations that surround Trincomalee township. Of them, Sampur became a major offensive stronghold for Tamil Tigers, post-CFA.

The town houses the Sri Lanka Navy base, the Navy Academy, the Divisional Headquarters of the Security Forces, the Divisional Secretariat and several key installations. The Lanka Indian Oil Corporation (LIOC) draws its supplies from the reserves here. More importantly, Trincomalee remains a major transit point for troops moving from the south to the north.

Little wonder then that it became the ground for a major flare-up. In recent weeks, both passenger and cargo vessels sailing in the Trincomalee Sea have come under LTTE attacks.

And herein lies the significance of the "recapture" of Sampur and the consequent neutralisation of the Tiger base. Can the military hold on to Sampur and, if yes, at what cost and consequences?

Travel by road from Colombo to Hambantota via Ratnapura, the former parliamentary constituency of President Mahinda Rajapaksa, brings to the fore the contrast between the north and the south. It is almost as if one is in another country. It is the difference between a battle zone and a zone far removed from there.

This correspondent travelled to the town, on the southern tip, for the inauguration of a school rebuilt by the Norwegian Refugee Council after the tsunami. It provided a glimpse of the dynamics of play between various layers of Sri Lankan society and Norway, the facilitator of the peace talks.

Just about 20 km away from the capital city towards Ratnapura, the contrast is visible. Throughout the 250-km stretch up to Hambantota, it is difficult to find a person in uniform, leave alone the innumerable check-points and sentry points which have become the hallmark of Colombo and the North and East. One sees no sign of tension.

The hospitality industry in the town is facing a slump but it is more because of the "off season factor". "Yes, the overall business is affected owing to the general prevailing tension and the image of the country abroad. However, we expect a good flow of tourists in the next few weeks. People in the area have no idea about the conflict in the rest of the country. They have only heard or read about it but do not know what it means," says a waiter at a hotel.

The Norwegians may be the official facilitators of the Sri Lanka peace process for the rest of the world. For the people of Hambantota, they are just another lot of foreigners flush with funds. Going by various accounts, the Norwegians had a tough time in convincing the school authorities to entrust them with the reconstruction job.

"I can never forget the yelling I got from the principal down to the school clerk when I first visited the place to negotiate the project," says a consultant associated with it.

Managers of the Mahinda Rajapaksa government view Norway with suspicion, and from time to time Norway has been accused of being soft towards the LTTE.

The attitude of the school authorities at Hambantota towards the Norwegians was perhaps a reflection of this school of thought.