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Daily news & progressive opinion—funded by the people, not the corporations—delivered straight to your inbox.
"What has happened to this country? Will the rivers of blood stop?
Will not the long shadow of the guns leave us? Life is much more worth
than to be snuffed out like a candle."
My sister, Dr Rajani Thiranagama, a prominent human rights activist in Sri
Lanka, wrote this. A year later, in September 1989, she was gunned down by
an LTTE assassin. This year is the 20th anniversary of her death.
For that reason, the news of the demise of the LTTE's top leadership - which
ordered her killing and the killings of many other Tamil dissenters - brings
overwhelming relief. The war and carnage has at last stopped and the
insistent bloodletting of Tamil dissent is now over.
Rajani's questions trigger many others in the minds of those who have
campaigned for peace, democracy, and justice for the minorities in Sri
Lanka, as Colombo begins its victory celebrations. It is not enough for the
guns to fall silent. The question looms large whether the Colombo government
will seize this watershed moment to heal wounds, to bring together polarised
communities. Will they be prepared to share power? Will they institute
meaningful constitutional reforms of democratisation and demilitarisation?
Will the Colombo government show true political leadership to kick-start a
national debate on ethnic relations and political power sharing, and will
this process be inclusive and transparent?
The government, despite being overwhelmed by the humanitarian crisis, has not
accepted the full assistance of the international community. The "Internally
Displaced Persons" have a new home surrounded by armed guards,
barbed-wire fences and squalor: such conditions are going to deepen and
prolong their trauma.
The continued refusal of full access to humanitarian agencies does not allay
suspicions about the government's intentions toward the refugees and the
LTTE cadres who have surrendered. The last three years have seen a large
number of abductions, extrajudicial killings and disappearances, almost
exclusively targeting the Tamil community as the government of Sri Lanka
relentlessly pursued its military campaign. The militarisation of state and
society has been able to suppress dissent in the south, even mounting
attacks on journalists. We wait to see whether the government will reverse
this downward spiral in democratic governance.
At this moment I remember Rajani, and a long line of courageous dissenters who
fell victim to the LTTE and government assassins alike. Now their courage
and vision speak to us, the people of Sri Lanka, once more.
Dear Common Dreams reader, It’s been nearly 30 years since I co-founded Common Dreams with my late wife, Lina Newhouser. We had the radical notion that journalism should serve the public good, not corporate profits. It was clear to us from the outset what it would take to build such a project. No paid advertisements. No corporate sponsors. No millionaire publisher telling us what to think or do. Many people said we wouldn't last a year, but we proved those doubters wrong. Together with a tremendous team of journalists and dedicated staff, we built an independent media outlet free from the constraints of profits and corporate control. Our mission has always been simple: To inform. To inspire. To ignite change for the common good. Building Common Dreams was not easy. Our survival was never guaranteed. When you take on the most powerful forces—Wall Street greed, fossil fuel industry destruction, Big Tech lobbyists, and uber-rich oligarchs who have spent billions upon billions rigging the economy and democracy in their favor—the only bulwark you have is supporters who believe in your work. But here’s the urgent message from me today. It's never been this bad out there. And it's never been this hard to keep us going. At the very moment Common Dreams is most needed, the threats we face are intensifying. We need your support now more than ever. We don't accept corporate advertising and never will. We don't have a paywall because we don't think people should be blocked from critical news based on their ability to pay. Everything we do is funded by the donations of readers like you. When everyone does the little they can afford, we are strong. But if that support retreats or dries up, so do we. Will you donate now to make sure Common Dreams not only survives but thrives? —Craig Brown, Co-founder |
"What has happened to this country? Will the rivers of blood stop?
Will not the long shadow of the guns leave us? Life is much more worth
than to be snuffed out like a candle."
My sister, Dr Rajani Thiranagama, a prominent human rights activist in Sri
Lanka, wrote this. A year later, in September 1989, she was gunned down by
an LTTE assassin. This year is the 20th anniversary of her death.
For that reason, the news of the demise of the LTTE's top leadership - which
ordered her killing and the killings of many other Tamil dissenters - brings
overwhelming relief. The war and carnage has at last stopped and the
insistent bloodletting of Tamil dissent is now over.
Rajani's questions trigger many others in the minds of those who have
campaigned for peace, democracy, and justice for the minorities in Sri
Lanka, as Colombo begins its victory celebrations. It is not enough for the
guns to fall silent. The question looms large whether the Colombo government
will seize this watershed moment to heal wounds, to bring together polarised
communities. Will they be prepared to share power? Will they institute
meaningful constitutional reforms of democratisation and demilitarisation?
Will the Colombo government show true political leadership to kick-start a
national debate on ethnic relations and political power sharing, and will
this process be inclusive and transparent?
The government, despite being overwhelmed by the humanitarian crisis, has not
accepted the full assistance of the international community. The "Internally
Displaced Persons" have a new home surrounded by armed guards,
barbed-wire fences and squalor: such conditions are going to deepen and
prolong their trauma.
The continued refusal of full access to humanitarian agencies does not allay
suspicions about the government's intentions toward the refugees and the
LTTE cadres who have surrendered. The last three years have seen a large
number of abductions, extrajudicial killings and disappearances, almost
exclusively targeting the Tamil community as the government of Sri Lanka
relentlessly pursued its military campaign. The militarisation of state and
society has been able to suppress dissent in the south, even mounting
attacks on journalists. We wait to see whether the government will reverse
this downward spiral in democratic governance.
At this moment I remember Rajani, and a long line of courageous dissenters who
fell victim to the LTTE and government assassins alike. Now their courage
and vision speak to us, the people of Sri Lanka, once more.
"What has happened to this country? Will the rivers of blood stop?
Will not the long shadow of the guns leave us? Life is much more worth
than to be snuffed out like a candle."
My sister, Dr Rajani Thiranagama, a prominent human rights activist in Sri
Lanka, wrote this. A year later, in September 1989, she was gunned down by
an LTTE assassin. This year is the 20th anniversary of her death.
For that reason, the news of the demise of the LTTE's top leadership - which
ordered her killing and the killings of many other Tamil dissenters - brings
overwhelming relief. The war and carnage has at last stopped and the
insistent bloodletting of Tamil dissent is now over.
Rajani's questions trigger many others in the minds of those who have
campaigned for peace, democracy, and justice for the minorities in Sri
Lanka, as Colombo begins its victory celebrations. It is not enough for the
guns to fall silent. The question looms large whether the Colombo government
will seize this watershed moment to heal wounds, to bring together polarised
communities. Will they be prepared to share power? Will they institute
meaningful constitutional reforms of democratisation and demilitarisation?
Will the Colombo government show true political leadership to kick-start a
national debate on ethnic relations and political power sharing, and will
this process be inclusive and transparent?
The government, despite being overwhelmed by the humanitarian crisis, has not
accepted the full assistance of the international community. The "Internally
Displaced Persons" have a new home surrounded by armed guards,
barbed-wire fences and squalor: such conditions are going to deepen and
prolong their trauma.
The continued refusal of full access to humanitarian agencies does not allay
suspicions about the government's intentions toward the refugees and the
LTTE cadres who have surrendered. The last three years have seen a large
number of abductions, extrajudicial killings and disappearances, almost
exclusively targeting the Tamil community as the government of Sri Lanka
relentlessly pursued its military campaign. The militarisation of state and
society has been able to suppress dissent in the south, even mounting
attacks on journalists. We wait to see whether the government will reverse
this downward spiral in democratic governance.
At this moment I remember Rajani, and a long line of courageous dissenters who
fell victim to the LTTE and government assassins alike. Now their courage
and vision speak to us, the people of Sri Lanka, once more.