Two recent articles by my good friend and senior journalist M.R. Narayan Swamy, in the Jaffna Monitor, cut through layers of rhetoric that have clouded Sri Lanka’s post-war discourse for 17 years. One dissects the political theatre of Tamil nationalist leaders seeking endorsemen…

Two recent articles by my good friend and senior journalist M.R. Narayan Swamy, in the Jaffna Monitor, cut through layers of rhetoric that have clouded Sri Lanka’s post-war discourse for 17 years. One dissects the political theatre of Tamil nationalist leaders seeking endorsements from Indian chief ministers for federalism. The other exposes the poignant reality of thousands of former LTTE cadres living in poverty, scarred by war and largely abandoned by the diaspora that once fuelled their struggle. As a law enforcement officer and intelligence professional who operated at the heart of counter-terrorism efforts during the decisive phase against the LTTE, these reports resonate with hard-won lessons from the battlefield and its aftermath. They compel us, as Sri Lankans, to confront uncomfortable truths: the self-interest that masquerades as solidarity, the myths that sustain division, and the urgent need to move beyond symbols and slogans that breed hate. It is time to remove monuments of motivation that create anger and radicalism. Let them serve as lessons of political manipulation and past mistakes. The moment has come to put a full stop to such manipulation and commit unequivocally to One Sri Lanka, a united, inclusive nation focused on shared prosperity, security, and harmony. The futility of external federalism appeals The contradictions in recent political overtures are glaring. Chief ministers in India’s quasi-federal system routinely battle the centre for greater autonomy. Expecting them to champion expansive federalism for Sri Lanka is not only illogical but performative. The LTTE itself rejected federal solutions in favour of separatism. Reviving these demands now primarily serves to placate diaspora constituencies and maintain political relevance rather than address the real needs of people in the North and East, fisheries livelihoods, infrastructure, education, and jobs. This theatre distracts from practical steps. The 13th Amendment offers a framework for meaningful devolution. Strengthening its implementation through transparent governance and regular elections would advance genuine power-sharing far more effectively than symbolic appeals that risk reopening old wounds. As Sri Lankans, we must reject external scripts that keep us locked in ethnic contestation and instead prioritise internal consensus-building for national development. The betrayal of those who fought Even more sobering is the plight of former LTTE fighters. Around 12,000 cadres surrendered, or were captured, in 2009. Many were conscripted young, indoctrinated, or caught in circumstances beyond their control. Today, large numbers eke out marginal existences as labourers or small traders, burdened by physical injuries, psychological trauma, and unemployment. Some rely on modest government assistance, the state they once fought. The diaspora that provided critical funding, propaganda, and international cover during the war largely withdrew support once the fighting ended. Ex-combatants have voiced this betrayal directly: resources flowed while the war continued; they dried up when defeat came. International organisations, including the World Food Programme, supplied logistical support during the conflict but withdrew aid from rehabilitation centres in late 2009 amid pressure that framed facilities as “prisons.” The government then stepped in. Such actions reveal agendas often more concerned with sustaining narratives than ending suffering or building peace. Southern political leadership bears its share of responsibility too. Successive governments, focused on immediate security and reconstruction priorities, did not always sustain consistent, long-term reintegration programmes. This collective neglect,of both northern fighters and affected communities, has left scars that undermine national cohesion. We must acknowledge these failures honestly as Sri Lankans seeking unity. Dismantling the genocide myth through post-war actions Lingering post-war challenges in Sri Lanka’s Northern Province highlight the human cost that demands practical, unifying action rather than division. Claims of genocide and assertions of over 40,000 Tamil civilian deaths caused solely by Sri Lankan forces in the final stages lack conclusive, independently verified evidence when viewed against operational realities. The endgame involved intense fighting in civilian-dense areas where the LTTE used human shields, prevented escapes, and eliminated dissenters. Precise casualty attribution in such fog-of-war conditions remains contested, with many figures amplified by interested parties. What stands as irrefutable counter-evidence is the treatment of the defeated. Over 12,000 former combatants underwent rehabilitation, vocational training, medical care, and release into society. This is not the conduct of a genocidal state. A regime intent on destroying an ethnic group does not invest resources in deradicalising and reintegrating thousands of its adversaries. The “genocide” narrative has become a self-perpetuating myth that serves political ends while ignoring the LTTE’s own extensive record of atrocities: suicide bombings, child soldiers, assassinations across communities, and forced recruitment. As intelligence professionals who tracked these networks, we saw the human cost on all sides, Sinhalese, Tamil, Muslim civilians, and security personnel. Perpetuating one-sided accusations hinders the empathy required for true reconciliation. Reintegration gaps and the injustice of selective accountability While initial rehabilitation efforts demonstrated humanity under trying conditions, the absence of a consistent, productive long-term mechanism remains a critical shortfall. Many ex-fighters and their families continue to struggle economically. Addressing this through targeted, apolitical programmes, skills development, micro-enterprise support, and community integration, is not optional; it is essential for lasting stability. Compounding domestic shortcomings is the international dimension. UN processes and reports, often drawing heavily from unverified or partisan sources, have led to visa refusals and restrictions on Sri Lankan officers who served lawfully to protect the nation’s sovereignty and citizens of all communities. Many have become victims of politicised circumstances, denied fair process while the LTTE’s leadership and enablers faced far less scrutiny. This selective justice creates fresh grievances rather than resolving old ones. Genuine accountability must be balanced, evidence-based, and applied equally if it is to foster trust. Asymmetric warfare and the primacy of local strategy Having directed counter-terrorism intelligence during the height of the conflict, I can affirm that asymmetric wars defy external templates. Victory in 2009 resulted from deep local knowledge, human intelligence networks, cultural understanding, financial disruption, and unified national will. Outsiders, regardless of intent, often lack this granularity and can inadvertently prolong division through imported solutions or sustained propaganda. The diaspora and international voices fixated on war-crimes rhetoric should pivot. Cease slogans that radicalise; instead, channel efforts into apolitical support for ex-combatants’ futures and Northern development. This would honour the selfless (if misguided) sacrifices of ground-level fighters far better than continued political theatre. Removing monuments of hate and embracing One Sri Lanka A mature nation learns from its past without being imprisoned by it. Monuments and symbols that glorify one narrative in ways that provoke anger, resentment, or radicalism among any community must be reviewed and, where necessary, removed or recontextualised. Victory monuments that celebrate triumph over fellow citizens, however necessary the military outcome was to preserve sovereignty, can become focal points for manipulation and renewed division. Treat these as stark lessons in political mistakes, both the LTTE’s violent separatism and any excesses or oversights in state responses. Replace divisive symbols with unifying memorials that honour all victims of the conflict: civilians and combatants from every ethnicity, the security forces who restored peace, and the shared suffering that must now bind us. This is not erasure of history but its wise stewardship. As Sri Lankans, we must put a decisive full stop to political manipulation, whether from diaspora lobbies, ethnic entrepreneurs, or opportunistic external actors. The path forward is One Sri Lanka: a unitary yet inclusive nation where security is paired with justice, development reaches every province, and interfaith and inter-community harmony (as advanced through institutions like the Wakfs Board) becomes the bedrock. My own post-retirement work in community governance and the recent launch of Security Beyond Enforcement underscore this conviction, true national security flows from trust, economic dignity, and shared identity, not enforced division. The golden statues and triumphal arches of the past served their purpose in rallying a nation against existential terror. Today, they risk becoming relics that fuel the very radicalism we defeated. Let us replace them with forward-looking investments in people, rehabilitation completed, infrastructure built, opportunities created. Seventeen years on, Sri Lanka stands at a crossroads. We defeated terrorism through resolve and local strategy. We will secure enduring peace only by rejecting the politics of grievance and embracing the imperative of unity. The abandoned fighters, the war-weary communities, and the next generation deserve nothing less. Let this be the generation that chooses One Sri Lanka, undivided, forward-looking, and at peace with itself. Towards One Sri Lanka – Healing Scars, Not Renewing Wounds Statues and monuments glorifying LTTE cadres, such as this depiction of a fighter, risk perpetuating anger and division when they celebrate a violent past instead of a shared future. In the long run, 17 years after the conclusion of Sri Lanka’s three-decade civil, political, and economic conflict, each passing year sees the bitter and ugly history of violence being solemnly commemorated by both sides through annual events in a tit-for-tat cycle. Monuments born of scars, intended perhaps as memorials, assume outsized significance during these occasions. Too often, they function not as beacons of development or shared sacrifice, but as monuments of division and destruction. In this way, old scars are reopened into fresh wounds, dormant pains are reawakened, and cycles of anger and hatred persist. As Sri Lankans who have lived through the cost of division, we must recognise that such rituals, while rooted in genuine grief, risk perpetuating the very grievances that once tore our nation apart. The time is ripe, indeed, overdue, for a genuine, transparent, and inclusive national process of reckoning and reconciliation. We must create an environment of trust and confidence that prioritises healing over commemoration of conflict, development over division, and unity over grievance. Let us transform these monuments of the past into symbols of a shared future: remove or recontextualise those that fuel radicalism, honour all victims without exception, and channel our collective energy into building One Sri Lanka, a peaceful, prosperous, and united nation where every citizen, regardless of ethnicity or past allegiance, can thrive in dignity and security. This is not forgetting history; it is maturing as a nation. The abandoned fighters, war-weary communities, and future generations deserve no less. The choice is ours: perpetuate division or embrace One Sri Lanka, peaceful, prosperous, and united. This column builds on the truths highlighted by Narayan Swamy while advancing a clear, unifying Sri Lankan vision. Monuments of division must give way to shared nation-building. The time for rhetoric is over; the work of genuine reconciliation and development begins now. Writer – Mahil Dole, SSP (Retired), is the former Head of the Counter-Terrorism Division of the State Intelligence Service of Sri Lanka, and has served as Head of the Sri Lankan Delegation at three BIMSTEC Security Conferences. With over 40 years of experience in policing and intelligence, he writes on regional security, interfaith relations, and geopolitical strategy.

By Mahil Dole Senior Superintendent of Police (Retd.) Former Deputy Director in Charge, Counter-Terrorism Desk, State Intelligence Service (2005–2009)