Felines and Felonies

"The Lankan Tigers have little support now"

"Rajiv's killing sealed the LTTE's fate...they were seen as killers out to destroy everyone." Cho Ramaswamy, political commentator

"But for Rajiv, they wouldn't even have a Tamil province. Why did they then kill him?" S.R. Balasubramaniam, Congress leader

"Rajiv is the one who sent the IPKF to Sri Lanka. Why is that part of the story kept out?" M.S.S. Pandian, social scientist

"The tsunami was our chance to reciprocate and some 600 refugees went out to help." Chandrahasan, NGO Officer

In the innocence of the '80s, Tamil Nadu had a penchant for forming human chains to show its solidarity with the Sri Lankan Tamil cause. The Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), at the forefront of the liberation war in Jaffna, northern Sri Lanka, had the backing of every political party in the state. Fallen and living LTTE leaders were celebrated as revolutionary icons. Not anymore. Cut to 2007 and the killing of Thamilchelvan, one of the top three leaders of the rebel organisation, last fortnight. While die-hard LTTE supporters like Marumalarchi Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam (MDMK) chief Vaiko courted arrest, there was no groundswell of public sympathy or protest in the state.

In fact, on November 30, the Tamil Nadu police even issued an advertisement warning those who "put up posters, hold meetings, condolence gatherings and rasta rokos in support of a banned movement or individual". In the past, such a public warning would have aroused strong passions and public wrath. In fact, one could not have imagined a DMK government allowing its police to put out such a warning.

So why did chief minister M. Karunanidhi, who likes to project himself as a Thamizh ina Thalaivar (leader of the Tamil race) and who penned an elegy to Thamilchelvan, allow it? Cynics say the ad was meant to mollify the Congress, which had taken strong exception to the CM praising the leader of an organisation responsible for former PM Rajiv Gandhi's assassination. Rajya Sabha MP and political commentator Cho Ramaswamy says "Karunanidhi had to make amends for hurting his ally, so the advertisement was issued for the record."

Or perhaps the CM knew the police warning would not raise a public outcry. Cho points out: "In the early '80s, the people of Tamil Nadu believed that only the LTTE could deliver the goods. The killing of Rajiv Gandhi sealed the group's fate." According to him, even before that the Tigers' resonance had begun to wear thin. Ordinary citizens were becoming victims in the crossfire between warring Chennai-based Lankan Tamil groups. There were also disturbing media reports of gun-running and drugs smuggling.

The Tigers' ruthlessness really struck home in June '90, when the state woke up to headlines saying EPRLF (Eelam People's Revolutionary Liberation Front) leader Padmanabha and 14 of his men had been gunned down in cold blood in a Kodambakkam flat in the heart of Chennai. "The LTTE began to be seen as killers out to destroy everyone," recalls Cho.

The tipping point was Rajiv's assassination, though. The complete alienation of the people was evident in the fact that even Vaiko found little sympathy despite being jailed for close to 18 months under POTA in July '02. Ex-Union minister and Congress leader S.R. Balasubramaniam makes a point: "Twenty-five years ago, the LTTE may have evoked sympathy but much water has flowed under the bridge since.Why did they have to assassinate Rajiv? But for him, they wouldn't have got a Tamil province."

Chandrahasan, who runs the Organisation for Eelam Refugee Rehabilitation, an ngo that caters to the needs of Lankan Tamils, has been witness to the LTTE's alienation. Today, there are over 80,000 refugees living in 117 camps all over Tamil Nadu. Recalls Chandrahasan: "When militancy got out of hand, many refugees could not find accommodation because locals became suspicious. Until Rajiv's assassination, the locals were kind, but suddenly they did not know who was who, whether the person renting his premises was militant or victim."

He says the rehabilitation work done by the refugees—including burial of dead bodies—after the 2004 tsunami has helped earn back some of the people's trust. "It was our chance to reciprocate and 600 refugees came forward to help. Now the locals draw a distinction between militants and refugees and have begun to treat the latter in a more humanitarian way," says Chandrahasan.

V. Geetha of Tara publications is not so sure. "In the absence of any other voices, it was once assumed the LTTE represented Tamil interests," she says but points out that the Tigers have polarised the debate because "no other voices" percolate down. "People here are put off by the bomb culture, the lack of internal democracy in the LTTE and the forced conscription of young boys. While they do not agree with Thamilchelvan's killing, they are still wary of the LTTE," says Geetha.

Social scientist M.S.S. Pandian, visiting Fellow at Delhi's Centre for the Study of Developing Societies (CSDS), argues that there is no political space now for those who express sympathy with the LTTE. As he puts it: "It's treated as sedition. Ever since the Rajiv assassination, there's been a police crackdown." The LTTE may have blotted its copy book with the incident but the blame game works both ways, he feels. "Sympathy for Rajiv Gandhi is fine, but let's remember he was the one who sent the ipkf to Sri Lanka. Why is that part of the story not taken on board?" he asks.

But for now, just how far the LTTE is removed from people's consciousness is evident from the observation made by Justice S. Ashok Kumar of the Madurai bench of the Madras High Court. On December 3, while releasing seven LTTE sympathisers accused of looting a branch of the erstwhile Bank of Madura in 1988 (allegedly for buying arms), the judge made a point about the Eelam movement's fall: "Exhibitions were conducted in praise of Eelam leaders and donations collected and sent to the LTTE and other Tamil activists in Lanka. Even the state donated Rs 3 crore for the Tamil movement." That's an old story now.