When History Calls: AKD's Rise and the Future of Tamil Aspirations

They said AKD made history, but it is actually the other way around: history made AKD. While he may not have the same level of education, oratorical skill, or crowd-pulling charisma as Rohana Wijeweera, there is one thing I’ve learned from studying history: History doesn't wait for any leader; it makes use of whoever is available. The men of history appear not because they are great, but because they are necessary.

The conditions that once led to the JVP’s emergence—economic hardship, social injustice, and political disillusionment—have persisted throughout the years. However, during Rohana's time, other factors didn’t fall into place, ultimately leading to his demise. In contrast, AKD found himself in a moment where these factors aligned, allowing him to achieve what Wijeweera could not. When the time is right, a leader will emerge. History has its own momentum, often independent of individual leaders. Leaders emerge not because they are the best suited for the role, but because they happen to be in the right place at the right time.

I am always optimistic about the future of Tamils in Sri Lanka because of my understanding of history. Although it may seem that there is no charismatic leader to champion Tamil aspirations today, history has shown us that when the conditions are right, the Tamil community will rise to seize the opportunity for a brighter future.

A Momentary Fix: The True Cost of Ranil's Rise to Power

I can't understand why people are writing emotional thank-you notes to Ranil for "stabilizing the ship." Do Sri Lankans really have such short-term memories? Remember when the Bar Council of Sri Lanka, along with the opposition parties, set a deadline for Gota during the Aragalaya movement to introduce a constitutional amendment to abolish the executive presidency and resign? That was a genuine opportunity for transformative reform. 

Until that demand was met, the opposition decided that no one would take the Prime Minister's post, which kept the pressure on Gota to act. But then RW swooped in at that crucial moment, taking up the Prime Minister's post. By doing so, he relieved the immediate pressure on Gota, effectively halting the momentum for change. Ranil’s choice to prioritize his personal gain allowed the existing power structures to remain intact, transforming what could have been a significant political shift into just a temporary fix.

Being thankful to Ranil is like a bride being kidnapped from her wedding to the perfect guy, forced to marry her abductor, and then feeling grateful because he treated her well after the forced marriage. Sure, he may have made things a bit more comfortable after crashing the big day, but that doesn’t erase the fact that she was supposed to marry Mr. Right, not Mr. Right-Now.

Similarly, while Ranil’s rise to power might seem like it stabilized the immediate chaos, it came at the cost of derailing the real chance for systemic reform and meaningful change. Just because the situation didn’t worsen doesn’t mean we should forgive or celebrate the original betrayal.

The Tamil Vote and the Sinhalese Perspective

People in the South have no business or moral standing to advise Tamils on how to vote in elections. Many in the South may feel that Tamils do not consider themselves Sri Lankan first. For Sinhalese, it is easy to feel Sri Lankan first, as there is no distinction between being Sinhala and being Sri Lankan—the country’s identity, policies, and priorities align exclusively with your own.

In a multi-ethnic country, the country's government should act as a neutral mediator, striving to protect the interests of all communities by building consensus. Unfortunately, since 1956, successive governments in Sri Lanka have positioned themselves solely as protectors of Sinhala Buddhist interests, often at the expense of other ethnicities.

It is not that Tamils do not want to be Sri Lankans first; rather, they have been made to feel Tamil first because the Sri Lankan state has consistently failed to represent, listen to, or protect them. Therefore, the issue isn't that Tamils seek different treatment; it's that they have been treated differently for decades, undermining their sense of belonging within the Sri Lankan identity. 

Don’t ask Tamils to embrace Sri Lankan mainstream politics; instead, challenge your political system to demonstrate through actions that Tamils are also Sri Lankans. When that happens, perceptions will change. Tamil people are not ready to vote based on empty promises, as that is all we have seen from Southern politicians since the 1957 Banda-Selva Pact. 

No Tamils in Singapore identify as Tamil first; they consider themselves Singaporeans. So don’t come to us to tell us how to vote; instead, reflect on how you can ensure that you elect leaders who will truly bring Tamils into the mainstream.

From Violence to Voice: Anura's Journey and Its Lessons for Tamils and Sinhalese

Anura's rise offers crucial political lessons for both Tamils and Sinhalese. The JVP's founder, Rohana Wijeweera, took up arms against the Sri Lankan state to seize power but was defeated in 1989, resulting in around 60,000 Sinhalese lives lost due to the state's brutal crackdown. Today, the JVP has risen through democratic means, demonstrating just how far they’ve come without resorting to violence.

For the Sinhalese, the key takeaway is that battlefield victories, such as those against the Tigers in 2009, are not permanent—just as in 1989—unless the underlying grievances of the Tamil community are addressed through the devolution of powers. For the Tamils, the lesson is that resorting to violence is not a cost-effective path to change; patience and persistence will ultimately turn the tide in your favour. While it may sound absurd to some, what seems impossible today doesn’t mean it will be impossible forever.

For example, when J.R. Jayewardene introduced the new constitution in 1978, one of his key motives was rooted in racism. In the 1977 elections, the SLFP was decimated, while the Tamil United Liberation Front (TULF) swept the North and East, becoming the second-largest party in parliament. Consequently, TULF Leader Amirthalingam assumed the role of Leader of the Opposition.

Jayewardene couldn’t stand the idea of a Tamil-led opposition. To prevent this from happening again, he introduced the proportional representation system, replacing the first-past-the-post voting system. His assumption was that since SL Tamils made up only 13% of the population, they would never secure enough seats to become the second-largest party under the new proportional system.

However, 37 years later, in 2015, Tamil National Alliance (TNA)—once again became the main opposition party when the UNP and SLFP formed a unity government. This shows that even the most carefully calculated political plans can be upended by time and shifting dynamics.

The non-violent path is the most reliable way to achieve political goals with minimal human cost. While progress through non-violence may be slow—often taking generations—it remains the least destructive option. This approach prevents the immense toll of bloodshed and devastation that violent armed struggles inevitably bring, along with the risk of failing to achieve political goals, as seen in 1989 and 2009. 

With a non-violent path, you can never truly lose; it's only a matter of when and how you will win.