Quaint feel to epicenter of Sri Lanka's bitter conflict

By Scott McDonald

JAFFNA, Sri Lanka (Reuters): The quaint provincial feel of Jaffna city, the epicenter of Sri Lanka's bitter civil war, masks the ethnic seismic fault running under it.

The town of about 50,000 in the northern Jaffna peninsula wears all the scars and pockmarks that result from having been occupied by three different armies during the last two decades.

But as hopes grow of peace talks between the government and Tamil Tiger rebels, Jaffna has a rustic air with street commerce booming and people living an apparently normal life.

Residents and officials say that calm belies their history and the problems they now face.

"It is okay right now because there is no fighting, but we have to ask the army to do anything," said one businessman who did not want to be named.

There are about 40,000 Sinhalese troops living in Jaffna peninsula -- controlling all aspects of life -- to hold off an estimated 5,000 to 8,000 separatist rebels.

Jaffna a year ago came close to once more changing hands, when heavy fighting between the government forces and the rebels saw the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) approach within five km (three miles) of the city.

The bitter fighting devastated Jaffna's suburbs of Columbuthurai and Ariyalai, reducing them almost to later versions of the parts of the town destroyed when fighting first pulverized the area in the early and mid-1980s.

Those older areas now have an almost scenic appeal, as tall bushes grow unchecked over the buildings, overshadowed by trees.

The LTTE has been fighting since 1983 to carve a Tamil homeland out of the north -- including Jaffna peninsula -- as well as the east of Sri Lanka, and more than 64,000 have been killed and hundreds of thousands displaced since.

It is not long before the visitor runs into a military checkpoint or soldier and is reminded that the city -- the cultural and political heartland of the separatist movement -- is under control of the Sri Lankan army.

"It is an occupation force, there is no other way to put it," said one aid worker based in Jaffna.

"The life is basically as normal as it can be, but they need MoD (Ministry of Defense) clearance for everything, to move themselves, to move their things," the official said.

"A certain normalcy has been created, but of course the final say is always with the army," said Thomas Savundaranayagam, the Roman Catholic bishop of Jaffna.

"We are all surrounded by 40,000 soldiers," the bishop said.

That presence has sparked problems between the locals, who do not always trust the majority Sinhalese soldiers, and the army, unequipped to deal with civilians even as it finds itself having to play the role of police, administrator and even travel agent. "Putting the military in charge of a civilian population increases polarization and violence," said one Western diplomat in Colombo. "They are trained to be soldiers, not policemen."

Jaffna was controlled from 1987 to 1990 by the Indian Army, which came in to try to crush the rebels and enforce a peace accord with Colombo.

After the Indians left in humiliation, LTTE forces took over the city, cracking down hard on any dissent from their style of rule or dream of a Tamil eelam, or nation.

Rebel rule of Jaffna city ended in December 1995 when Sri Lankan troops completed their advance from the heavily fortified Palali military base about 15 km (nine miles) to the north.

The war has cut the population of the peninsula to about 500,000, less than half that of two decades ago, and last year's fighting displaced 170,000 of those.

About 70,000 have still not been able to return home because of the threat from landmines and unexploded ordinance in the area east of Jaffna city toward the key Elephant Pass, which the rebels captured last April and still hold.

Tamils constitute almost all of Jaffna's population except for fewer than 100 Muslims, a community that makes up 18 percent of the country as a whole.

In the face of the rebel threat, the military puts the city under curfew from 8 p.m. each day.

"I don't think they suffer material discomfort, but there is a moral burden," the aid official said. "It does not breathe," he added, referring to the city.

People must also seek military permission to travel on the charter service the air force runs.

There are three flights a day with fewer than 150 seats, but numerous security checks stretch the trip to Colombo to six times the usual flying time of an hour.

With road links closed off, the only other way to get off the peninsula is by a ship run by the Red Cross aid agency, which takes a day to reach Trincomalee on the east coast.