As a tribute to the slain journalist we reproduce below some articles from latest edition of the Sunday Leader (January 11, 2009) of which Lasantha Wickramatunga was the founder and chief editor. The full edition of this newspaper may be viewed at: http://www.thesundayleader.lk/20090111/HOME.HTM
Editorial
And Then They Came For Me
No other profession calls on its practitioners to lay down their lives for their art save the armed forces and, in Sri Lanka, journalism. In the course of the past few years, the independent media have increasingly come under attack. Electronic and print-media institutions have been burnt, bombed, sealed and coerced. Countless journalists have been harassed, threatened and killed. It has been my honour to belong to all those categories and now especially the last.
I have been in the business of journalism a good long time. Indeed, 2009 will be The Sunday Leader’s 15th year. Many things have changed in Sri Lanka during that time, and it does not need me to tell you that the greater part of that change has been for the worse. We find ourselves in the midst of a civil war ruthlessly prosecuted by protagonists whose bloodlust knows no bounds. Terror, whether perpetrated by terrorists or the state, has become the order of the day. Indeed, murder has become the primary tool whereby the state seeks to control the organs of liberty. Today it is the journalists, tomorrow it will be the judges. For neither group have the risks ever been higher or the stakes lower.
Why then do we do it? I often wonder that. After all, I too am a husband, and the father of three wonderful children. I too have responsibilities and obligations that transcend my profession, be it the law or journalism. Is it worth the risk? Many people tell me it is not. Friends tell me to revert to the bar, and goodness knows it offers a better and safer livelihood. Others, including political leaders on both sides, have at various times sought to induce me to take to politics, going so far as to offer me ministries of my choice. Diplomats, recognising the risk journalists face in Sri Lanka, have offered me safe passage and the right of residence in their countries. Whatever else I may have been stuck for, I have not been stuck for choice.
But there is a calling that is yet above high office, fame, lucre and security. It is the call of conscience.
The Sunday Leader has been a controversial newspaper because we say it like we see it: whether it be a spade, a thief or a murderer, we call it by that name. We do not hide behind euphemism. The investigative articles we print are supported by documentary evidence thanks to the public-spiritedness of citizens who at great risk to themselves pass on this material to us. We have exposed scandal after scandal, and never once in these 15 years has anyone proved us wrong or successfully prosecuted us.
The free media serve as a mirror in which the public can see itself sans mascara and styling gel. From us you learn the state of your nation, and especially its management by the people you elected to give your children a better future. Sometimes the image you see in that mirror is not a pleasant one. But while you may grumble in the privacy of your armchair, the journalists who hold the mirror up to you do so publicly and at great risk to themselves. That is our calling, and we do not shirk it.
Every newspaper has its angle, and we do not hide the fact that we have ours. Our commitment is to see Sri Lanka as a transparent, secular, liberal democracy. Think about those words, for they each has profound meaning. Transparent because government must be openly accountable to the people and never abuse their trust. Secular because in a multi-ethnic and multi-cultural society such as ours, secularism offers the only common ground by which we might all be united. Liberal because we recognise that all human beings are created different, and we need to accept others for what they are and not what we would like them to be. And democratic… well, if you need me to explain why that is important, you’d best stop buying this paper.
The Sunday Leader has never sought safety by unquestioningly articulating the majority view. Let’s face it, that is the way to sell newspapers. On the contrary, as our opinion pieces over the years amply demonstrate, we often voice ideas that many people find distasteful. For example, we have consistently espoused the view that while separatist terrorism must be eradicated, it is more important to address the root causes of terrorism, and urged government to view Sri Lanka’s ethnic strife in the context of history and not through the telescope of terrorism. We have also agitated against state terrorism in the so-called war against terror, and made no secret of our horror that Sri Lanka is the only country in the world routinely to bomb its own citizens. For these views we have been labelled traitors, and if this be treachery, we wear that label proudly.
Many people suspect that The Sunday Leader has a political agenda: it does not. If we appear more critical of the government than of the opposition it is only because we believe that – pray excuse cricketing argot – there is no point in bowling to the fielding side. Remember that for the few years of our existence in which the UNP was in office, we proved to be the biggest thorn in its flesh, exposing excess and corruption wherever it occurred. Indeed, the steady stream of embarrassing exposẽs we published may well have served to precipitate the downfall of that government.
Neither should our distaste for the war be interpreted to mean that we support the Tigers. The LTTE are among the most ruthless and bloodthirsty organisations ever to have infested the planet. There is no gainsaying that it must be eradicated. But to do so by violating the rights of Tamil citizens, bombing and shooting them mercilessly, is not only wrong but shames the Sinhalese, whose claim to be custodians of the dhamma is forever called into question by this savagery, much of which is unknown to the public because of censorship.
What is more, a military occupation of the country’s north and east will require the Tamil people of those regions to live eternally as second-class citizens, deprived of all self respect. Do not imagine that you can placate them by showering “development” and “reconstruction” on them in the post-war era. The wounds of war will scar them forever, and you will also have an even more bitter and hateful Diaspora to contend with. A problem amenable to a political solution will thus become a festering wound that will yield strife for all eternity. If I seem angry and frustrated, it is only because most of my countrymen – and all of the government – cannot see this writing so plainly on the wall.
It is well known that I was on two occasions brutally assaulted, while on another my house was sprayed with machine-gun fire. Despite the government’s sanctimonious assurances, there was never a serious police inquiry into the perpetrators of these attacks, and the attackers were never apprehended. In all these cases, I have reason to believe the attacks were inspired by the government. When finally I am killed, it will be the government that kills me.
The irony in this is that, unknown to most of the public, Mahinda and I have been friends for more than a quarter century. Indeed, I suspect that I am one of the few people remaining who routinely addresses him by his first name and uses the familiar Sinhala address oya when talking to him. Although I do not attend the meetings he periodically holds for newspaper editors, hardly a month passes when we do not meet, privately or with a few close friends present, late at night at President’s House. There we swap yarns, discuss politics and joke about the good old days. A few remarks to him would therefore be in order here.
Mahinda, when you finally fought your way to the SLFP presidential nomination in 2005, nowhere were you welcomed more warmly than in this column. Indeed, we broke with a decade of tradition by referring to you throughout by your first name. So well known were your commitments to human rights and liberal values that we ushered you in like a breath of fresh air. Then, through an act of folly, you got yourself involved in the Helping Hambantota scandal. It was after a lot of soul-searching that we broke the story, at the same time urging you to return the money. By the time you did so several weeks later, a great blow had been struck to your reputation. It is one you are still trying to live down.
You have told me yourself that you were not greedy for the presidency. You did not have to hanker after it: it fell into your lap. You have told me that your sons are your greatest joy, and that you love spending time with them, leaving your brothers to operate the machinery of state. Now, it is clear to all who will see that that machinery has operated so well that my sons and daughter do not themselves have a father.
In the wake of my death I know you will make all the usual sanctimonious noises and call upon the police to hold a swift and thorough inquiry. But like all the inquiries you have ordered in the past, nothing will come of this one, too. For truth be told, we both know who will be behind my death, but dare not call his name. Not just my life, but yours too, depends on it.
Sadly, for all the dreams you had for our country in your younger days, in just three years you have reduced it to rubble. In the name of patriotism you have trampled on human rights, nurtured unbridled corruption and squandered public money like no other President before you. Indeed, your conduct has been like a small child suddenly let loose in a toyshop. That analogy is perhaps inapt because no child could have caused so much blood to be spilled on this land as you have, or trampled on the rights of its citizens as you do. Although you are now so drunk with power that you cannot see it, you will come to regret your sons having so rich an inheritance of blood. It can only bring tragedy. As for me, it is with a clear conscience that I go to meet my Maker. I wish, when your time finally comes, you could do the same. I wish.
As for me, I have the satisfaction of knowing that I walked tall and bowed to no man. And I have not travelled this journey alone. Fellow journalists in other branches of the media walked with me: most of them are now dead, imprisoned without trial or exiled in far-off lands. Others walk in the shadow of death that your Presidency has cast on the freedoms for which you once fought so hard. You will never be allowed to forget that my death took place under your watch. As anguished as I know you will be, I also know that you will have no choice but to protect my killers: you will see to it that the guilty one is never convicted. You have no choice. I feel sorry for you, and Shiranthi will have a long time to spend on her knees when next she goes for Confession for it is not just her owns sins which she must confess, but those of her extended family that keeps you in office.
As for the readers of The Sunday Leader, what can I say but Thank You for supporting our mission. We have espoused unpopular causes, stood up for those too feeble to stand up for themselves, locked horns with the high and mighty so swollen with power that they have forgotten their roots, exposed corruption and the waste of your hard-earned tax rupees, and made sure that whatever the propaganda of the day, you were allowed to hear a contrary view. For this I – and my family – have now paid the price that I have long known I will one day have to pay. I am – and have always been – ready for that. I have done nothing to prevent this outcome: no security, no precautions. I want my murderer to know that I am not a coward like he is, hiding behind human shields while condemning thousands of innocents to death. What am I among so many? It has long been written that my life would be taken, and by whom. All that remains to be written is when.
That The Sunday Leader will continue fighting the good fight, too, is written. For I did not fight this fight alone. Many more of us have to be – and will be – killed before The Leader is laid to rest. I hope my assassination will be seen not as a defeat of freedom but an inspiration for those who survive to step up their efforts. Indeed, I hope that it will help galvanise forces that will usher in a new era of human liberty in our beloved motherland. I also hope it will open the eyes of your President to the fact that however many are slaughtered in the name of patriotism, the human spirit will endure and flourish. Not all the Rajapakses combined can kill that.
People often ask me why I take such risks and tell me it is a matter of time before I am bumped off. Of course I know that: it is inevitable. But if we do not speak out now, there will be no one left to speak for those who cannot, whether they be ethnic minorities, the disadvantaged or the persecuted. An example that has inspired me throughout my career in journalism has been that of the German theologian, Martin Niemöller. In his youth he was an anti-Semite and an admirer of Hitler. As Nazism took hold in Germany, however, he saw Nazism for what it was: it was not just the Jews Hitler sought to extirpate, it was just about anyone with an alternate point of view. Niemöller spoke out, and for his trouble was incarcerated in the Sachsenhausen and Dachau concentration camps from 1937 to 1945, and very nearly executed. While incarcerated, Niemöller wrote a poem that, from the first time I read it in my teenage years, stuck hauntingly in my mind:
First they came for the Jews
and I did not speak out because I was not a Jew.
Then they came for the Communists
and I did not speak out because I was not a Communist.
Then they came for the trade unionists
and I did not speak out because I was not a trade unionist.
Then they came for me
and there was no one left to speak out for me.
If you remember nothing else, remember this: The Leader is there for you, be you Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim, low-caste, homosexual, dissident or disabled. Its staff will fight on, unbowed and unafraid, with the courage to which you have become accustomed. Do not take that commitment for granted. Let there be no doubt that whatever sacrifices we journalists make, they are not made for our own glory or enrichment: they are made for you. Whether you deserve their sacrifice is another matter. As for me, God knows I tried.
A deadly drive to work
At around 8 am on the morning of January 8 Lasantha Wickrematunge was at his residence in Nugegoda when he was to get a call from his wife Sonali Samarasinghe asking him to come to their home in Battaramulla as the domestic assistant there had taken ill.
He had arrived at their Battaramulla home at about 8.20. It was even as he alighted from his car that he was to receive a call from the Sunday Leader office that some people had observed suspicious activity and that he was being followed.
His driver who was at Nugegoda had been warned by one of his friends – a three wheeler driver, that two persons on a motor bike parked at a nearby boutique had acted suspiciously and no sooner than Lasantha had taken off in his car one had been heard to say to the other , Eya pittath wuna (he has left now). At which point one of the two who was smoking had butted out his cigarette and they had been seen following Lasantha’s car.
The driver had immediately gone to The Sunday Leader office in Ratmalana but finding that Lasantha had not arrived yet he was to quickly go into the office and call Lasantha on his mobile phone. Lasantha was in Battaramulla at the time. The driver’s mobile phone was in Lasantha’s car.
Followed
Lasantha and Sonali left for a nearby pharmaceutical shop to buy medicines for the servant. Even on their way, Sonali had noticed a motorbike following the car. She however lost sight of it, as a three wheeler had intercepted.
However, once they neared their house, a large black motorbike with two persons had whizzed past the car and had gone into the land next to the house which is a dead end in a suspicious and intimidating way.
Alerted Sonali had first alighted from the car and immediately pulled Lasantha into their house locking the doors. However after some time Lasantha was determined to go to office to commence writing his column and also to take steps against this new threat. Since Sonali had to still see to some domestic matters he said he would go on ahead and that his wife should come in her car. He also said he wanted to investigate the whole motorbike incident and make some calls on the matter.
Wickrematunge, on his way to the office had asked his driver to meet him in Nugegoda. He handed over to him some documents and then proceeded towards office.
Deadly journey
It would turn out to be the deadliest ride to work he would ever take.
His wife meanwhile not 15 minutes after they parted was to hear the dreaded news and quickly rush to the Kalubowila Hospital. The driver too, received the news through an employee at the Leader office.
One of the people, who witnessed the attack on The Sunday Leader Editor, Lasantha Wickrematunge and volunteered to take him to the Kalubowila Hospital said that he was checking a stock of printing goods prepared for delivery that day when the incident happened.
He (name withheld on request) said he came out of his office on Attidiya Road, upon seeing a lot of activity on the road.
Black bikes
“I saw some motorbikes speeding off and people started to move towards a car that was parked on the other side of the road. I too walked towards the car and saw that the window on one side was smashed with damage to the main windscreen as well,” he said.
He had then peered into the vehicle and found a person lying across the two front seats.
“I saw that he was finding it difficult to breathe. Then I called on some of the people standing around to carry him to a van that was there. We carried him into the van. He was bleeding heavily from the head,” he said.
The eyewitness said that while Wickrematunge was being taken to hospital, his mobile phone, which he had been holding on to firmly, had started to ring.
Phone call
“The phone rang. Since I was holding the injured person with another, the person on the front passenger seat answered the phone and told the caller that if he knew the owner of the phone, to come to the Kalubowila Hospital immediately,” he said.
Amidst all the chaos, it was not till the van reached the hospital that they all realised that the injured man in the vehicle was none other than Lasantha Wickrematunge.
“We have always admired him as a fearless man who stood for the rights of the people. We were all sad to find out that it was this man who was shot,” the eyewitness said.
Nadhan, driver of the van that took Wickrematunge to the hospital said that he was on his way to Avissawella for a delivery when the van was held up in a traffic jam in Attidiya.
“We saw people surrounding a car, but they looked afraid to go near. They may have been afraid to get close as it was a shooting incident,” he said.
Nadhan said that while most people looked on, vehicles passed by without even stopping to have a second look.
Rushed to hospital
“We stopped to look and when we heard there was an injured person, we allowed the people to carry him to our van. Along with two other people and my sales manager, we drove straight to the Kalubowila Hospital,” he said.
Like the other eyewitnesses, Nadhan also recognised the victim only upon reaching the hospital.
“When Wickrematunge’s phone rang in the vehicle, we informed the caller of the incident.”
One of the others who saw the incident as Wickrematunge was being taken into the van was Lakmal Nanayakkara, who works at Irudina, The Sunday Leader’s sister paper. “I was in the bus getting ready to get off when the bus all of sudden got stuck in traffic,” he said.
“First I thought it was an accident, then we realised that something else would have happened when we saw a man dressed in dark trouser was taken into a van, injured. I saw his head move inside the car when the people opened the door. I saw the vehicle and called office and asked Mr. Mohan (Lal Piyadasa, editor of the Irudina) whether Mr. Lasantha was in office, whether his car was there. He said no. Then I told him that there was a shooting and Mr. Lasantha was being taken to hospital. I got off the bus and tried to get in the van that was taking him but I could not.”
Efforts failed
Director, Colombo South Teaching (Kalubowila) Hospital, Dr. Anil Jasinghe said that all efforts made by the medical staff at the hospital and the other specialists brought into help Wickrematunge were not fruitful due to the severe injuries sustained by the victim to his head.
After three hours of extensive surgery, Lasantha succumbed to his injuries at around 2.30 p.m. last Thursday (8).
Meanwhile, Police Media Spokesperson, SSP Ranjith Gunasekera told The Sunday Leader that the IGP had assigned four teams to investigate into Wickrematunge’s assassination.
He added that the teams have found some clues that would lead to the suspects. However, he said that he had not yet been given a detailed report, as the investigating teams did not want details to be revealed since it would hamper the progress of the investigation.
He said that SSP Mt Lavinia Police was heading the four teams.
After the victory comes the celebration
By Qadri Ismail
Clearly, this government has decided to celebrate what it deems a victory over the LTTE by piling murder upon murder. By turning its guns on those it deems its other enemies.
Last year, J. S. Tissainayagam was merely imprisoned for expressing his opinion. Keith Noyahr and Namal Perera were brutally assaulted. This year, just a few days after capturing Killinochchi, Lasantha Wickrematunge is killed for the same crime.
What makes it truly terrifying to be in Sri Lanka today is the conviction that there will be others. Many others. Journalists, lawyers, rights activists of all kinds. For, in Sri Lanka today, the Sri Lanka run by the Rajapakses, dissent, the pivotal constituent of a free society, has been made a crime.
Clearly, this government intends to intimidate, terrorise and, where that fails, eliminate all forms of dissent by murder. The only question one could ask is: how does one stop it? But that question can wait.
Honour a life
For, while one mourns a death, while one protests a murder, while one vows to resist, one must also honour a life.
From his early days as a journalist, Lasantha would work his butt off in pursuit of a good news story. As a young reporter at The Island I was, quite frankly, jealous of his success; but then I figured it out – and decided to learn from him. It seemed people couldn’t resist talking to him for some magical reason, but that wasn’t quite the case.
Like every good journalist, Lasantha worked without regard to the clock. (And unlike them, stayed sober while he did so!) Always a charmer, he nevertheless cultivated his sources carefully, diligently, patiently. If people talked to him, it was because of his tireless effort. He ignored no source.
Consequently, when he investigated a scandal, it wasn’t surprising that he uncovered its every detail, however trivial. That was the strength of his work: he convinced you not just by making extravagant accusations against the powerful, but by the weight of the detail of his reporting. At his best, Lasantha convinced you that there couldn’t be another side to the story.
What moved him, however, was not the scent of a good story, but the possibility of a sensational headline. Lasantha believed, of course, that the freedom of expression must never be diluted. More importantly, though, he was compelled by a strong sense of justice.
A sense of responsibility
The more powerful he felt, especially in government, he had a sense of responsibility. They were elected, or appointed, to do a job of work – not inflate their bank balances. And certainly not to treat the law as nonexistent. If they did, they had to be called to account.
This takes courage in any political system. It takes unflagging conviction in one like ours. For, if one did not believe passionately in what one did, one would always be tempted to compromise. But that word didn’t make Lasantha’s lexicon. If you have conviction you will have courage, or find it, and Lasantha never lost it.
Most importantly, of course, in the cause of peace. He never advocated war as a solution to the national question. And I urge – nay, I beg – those appalled by his murder, but otherwise supportive of this government to reflect, today, upon the relation between both kinds of violence.
Advocated peace
Lasantha advocated peace as a matter of justice. He heard the voice of the underdog. He stood for the kind of free and equal country we want Sri Lanka to be, not the corrupt, intolerant, dictatorial one it is.
Just a few weeks ago, this newspaper carried a stirring editorial in support of gay rights. And it surely couldn’t have escaped the attention of Sri Lankan feminists that The Sunday Leader, of all our English language newspapers, was the least likely, pictorially, to objectify women, to display them meagerly clothed.
Yes, The Sunday Leader was sometimes irritatingly one-sided. But that side was never that of the powerful.
And our powerful might well be reminded, today, of Ranasinghe Premadasa. Unburdened by a war in the north, his once popular government terrorised the south. It killed hundreds of Sinhalese, including my good friend the journalist Richard de Zoysa.
At Premadasa’s death, the people celebrated with fireworks.
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