Monday, October 25, 2010

Hidden Agendas

Posted by Sri Lanka Guardian feature, Social, Stewart Sloan 7:31:00 AM

"The list of persons who have been disappeared goes on and on and there is no sign that it will ever come to an end. As long as the regime and the Rajapakses' consider themselves above the law they will use the law enforcement personnel for their own ends. And this will continue until they are overthrown." by Stewart Sloan

(October 26, Hong Kong, Sri Lanka Guardian) A weekend paper published an interview with Minister Mahinda Samarasinghe who is determined to prove that human rights NGOs have a hidden agenda to cause as much trouble for Sri Lanka as possible.

So, yes I confess, I did have a hidden agenda but I have now been encouraged to bring it out into the open. Do I want to overthrow the government of Mahinda Rajapakse? Well yes, I do, but it's a bit difficult when you live several thousand miles away and you do not even hold Sri Lankan citizenship. So what can I possibly hope to accomplish, after all, I am a private citizen, not an NGO with a hidden agenda, so, how can I complete the overthrow of the Rajapakse regime.

I might do it by garnering public opinion. For example, how many people outside of the regime actually have any respect for the king? If the truth were to be told, not very many! But then many Sri Lankans do not have the luxury of living outside of the country, and the reach of the king's bodyguards. They have the well-justified fear of ending up like Prageeth Eknaliagoda; simply disappearing. Or they might be thrown into jail for having had the temerity of running in opposition to the president in the elections.

One of the major problems facing the citizenry of the country is the almost total lack of credible investigations into human rights abuses at the hands of the police or military. The truly amazing thing about this is that the Rajapakses' know full well that everyone else knows full well that no credible investigations are carried out and they don't give a damn. They are truly above, not only the law of the land but also public opinion. Of course, on occasion they might make all the right noises about holding investigations, like for example in the case of the two WMCA workers that went missing after being 'arrested' by plain clothed police officers in broad daylight. President Rajapakse himself promised the parents that if no progress had been made after two weeks he would bring in Scotland Yard to carry out an independent investigation. No progress was made after two weeks and no one from Scotland Yard ever appeared. Perhaps the president did actually ask them to come but they were too busy.

Can President Rajapakse be so arrogant as to believe that the people of the country don't notice these things? Does he honestly think they are as stupid as that? Then of course there was the very sad case of Douglas Nimal, a police officer that threatened to expose the corruption in the police with regard to narcotics. Nimal and his wife were shot dead in broad daylight and once again, the investigation -- let us fool ourselves into thinking that there was actually an investigation -- failed to bring the killers to light. It does not take a Sherlock Holmes to realise that the only persons who might have found themselves in trouble from Nimal's disclosure were the police so any reasonable person would realise that they had a vested interest in ensuring that he did not talk to anyone.

The list of persons who have been disappeared goes on and on and there is no sign that it will ever come to an end. As long as the regime and the Rajapakses' consider themselves above the law they will use the law enforcement personnel for their own ends. And this will continue until they are overthrown. Hopefully this overthrow will be done by means of the vote long before it comes to the point where the people have had enough and resort to violence. Am I advocating the violent overthrow of the regime, no absolutely I am not. But the people of Sri Lanka must realise that it is time for them to stand up in public, point their fingers at the Rajapakses and say, "We have had enough!" It is time for them to demand credible investigations and the prosecution of those responsible. And if they were acting under orders what is the harm, article 35 of the Constitution gives immunity to the president. He is not the one who is going to get into trouble. But if this happens then the police officers who are hauled over the coals might think twice before following the politicised instructions of the regime. And their prosecutions will act as an example to their fellow officers who will then definitely think twice about following mindless instructions to harm their fellow citizens.

Now that I have disclosed my hidden agenda I will have to think of another. All this honesty is depressing me.


Stewart Sloan served as a civilian officer for seven years with the Special Branch of the Royal Hong Kong Police Force. In December 2001 he was awarded a Commanding Officer's Commendation for "Attention to duty of a high order displayed in the pursuit of an operation of major security importance." Stewart currently words as an Editorial Assistant for a human rights NGO based in Hong Kong.

Sunday, October 10, 2010

…but only if you can pay

Stewart Sloan

(The Sunday Examiner, Hong Kong 12 September 2010) I visit once every two or three years, despite the fact that my late wife and I bought property and a house in Cebu City. On every visit I notice an improvement in the country’s infrastructure. The roads, the communications and the public services have all improved over the years since my first visit in 1983.

Unfortunately, this cannot be said for the country's health services to the needy, or even for those in the provinces who could afford them.

On my first visit, I was taken to my father-in-law’s farm in the hill provinces of Cebu; Bulak Dumanjug in those days was a village that ran less than half a mile along a dirt road. There were a general store and several small shops that sold daily-need items. There were no communications, and transport to and from the village was by a jeepney that did two trips a day – when its wheels did not fall off!

There were no health services apart from the so-called witch doctors, who diagnosed every illness as having been caused by a spirit. For a few pesos they were willing to bless a candle, the burning of which would drive the evil out.

On the evening of my first day, relatives carried in a young man who had a cyst on his hip and asked me to help him. The cyst was by this time the size of a tennis ball. Although I was not medically trained at that time – I later went on to become a first aid instructor – I could see that hot compresses could reduce the swelling until the puss was extracted.

If there had been no doctors for miles around I might have been willing to at least try something. However, even today I would not be willing to risk a person’s life in the knowledge that there was, in fact, a doctor in the vicinity. "Why didn't you call him," I asked? The answer, even today, leaves a sour taste in my mouth. The doctor would not come, as the patient had no money to pay him.

"I will pay him," I said, still unable to come to terms with the fact that a medically trained physician, who had taken the Hippocratic oath, refused to treat a person because he could not afford to pay him. "I will pay him," I said, but I had no intention of speaking with him or even acknowledging his existence.

In a short while the doctor arrived. He was a young man who carried his equipment and medicines in a black leather bag. When he arrived, the first thing he did was to take his fees and only after that he looked at the patient.

It was a quick operation; an incision to drain the puss, suturing, bandaging and a few pills to ease the pain. The patient healed quickly and within a week was back on his feet. What is terribly sad is the fact that even today, despite all the roads, electricity and televisions, there are still scant medical services available in the hill provinces of the Philippines, and the few available demand payment first.

On a later visit, my wife and I went to the only hospital in the seaside town of Barili, a beautiful little town that has retained a great deal of its Spanish influence. The hospital is on the outskirts of the town. The person we went to visit suffered from diabetes and the disease had caused gangrene in his leg, which had to be amputated.

By the time we visited he had recovered from the operation and was sitting up quite cheerfully in bed. He was grateful for our visit and we spoke for some time. During the discussion a nurse came in to give him his antibiotics and it was then that the patient’s wife unlocked the cabinet beside the bed and withdrew the medicine for the nurse. The nurse administered the injection and returned the unused portion to the wife, who locked it up and went away.

When I asked why the medicine was locked up in the cabinet, the wife explained that patients had to supply their own medication. ""Isn't it supplied by the hospital," I asked? "It could be," came the answer. "But the quality and supply is unreliable and so it is better to personally get it if one can afford it."

This is the state of healthcare in a country where the rich and famous, who travel in chauffeur-driven cars, accompanied by minders and government officials of the health department travel overseas to conferences in which they seek international aid for their health schemes.

It is almost 26 years since my first visit to Bulak Dumanjug. The road is slightly better, with fewer potholes, and villages have electricity by which to watch television. But there are still no medical facilities, no doctors and no clinics. Yes, the jeepneys run more frequently and can transport a sick person to Dumanjug, the nearest town, or the hospital in Barili – but only if you have the money.

--
(Stewart Sloan works for the Asian Human Rights Commission. He is the author of three works of fiction based in Hong Kong, where he has lived all his life, and a collection of anecdotes about the Royal Hong Kong Police Force, whom he served as a civilian for 11 years. He was married to the late Quirina, who was born in Cebu).

This article was first published in UPI Asia under the title, The cost of ill health in the Philippines.

Wednesday, October 6, 2010

Fonseka sleeps in a cell, KP in a velvet cage

I have just received information from the Sri Lanka Guardian that as of 2:30 pm Hong Kong time, less than 24 hours after this article was uploaded it has been viewed by over 1,000 readers.

Stewart Sloan

(The opinions expressed at the author's own)

Published in the Sri Lanka Guardian, October 7, 2010

So how does the Rajapakse regime reconcile their treatment of former LTTE cadres who fought for the overthrow of the government of Sri Lanka with that of the General who fought, and suffered terrible injuries, to rescue it from their clutches? Now bereft of his medals and his military pension, his future is bleak, even if he were to be released tomorrow.

In a rare gesture of compassion the Rajapakse regime has announced the release of a group of Tamil Tiger rebels after only 16 months of government detention. Can we hope for a similar gesture for Sarath Fonseka?

Do not misunderstand me, I have written adverse comments about what I consider to be the 'two faces' of the General in these columns in the past and I have not changed my mind. The General announced to the world that he would be happy to testify before the UN on the atrocities committed by the Sri Lankan armed forces in the closing days of the war with the LTTE, only to announce a few days later that, yes, he would testify, but only to clear the good name of the Sri Lanka Army. This I considered to be a terrible 'about-face' and not worthy of a man capable of defeating the might of the LTTE and standing up to the Rajapakse regime.

However, there are extremely serious discrepancies in the way that former LTTE cadres are being treated in comparison with the General.

Take the situation of Daya Master, the former media officer and the official translator George Master who surrendered to the Sri Lanka Army during the last days of the war and who were released after only a few months by the Magistrate's Court of Colombo. They now live in comfortable circumstances as opposed to the General, who, it is reported, sleeps on the concrete floor of his cell.

Kumaran Pathmanadan, internationally known as KP, was the chief procurer of arms for the LTTE. He was widely believed to have been the mastermind behind the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi and upon the death, under suspicious circumstances, of the LTTE leader, Prabakaran, an announcement made by the LTTE's Executive Committee declaring him to be their newly appointed leader. He was arrested on August 5, 2009 but continues to live the life of Riley. Although officially in the custody of the Sri Lanka Army he lives in luxury and is in frequent communication with the outside world from the confines of his velvet cage.

So how does the Rajapakse regime reconcile their treatment of former LTTE cadres who fought for the overthrow of the government of Sri Lanka with that of the General who fought, and suffered terrible injuries, to rescue it from their clutches? Now bereft of his medals and his military pension, his future is bleak, even if he were to be released tomorrow.

Sadly this is just another piece of evidence that reveals how the regime is manipulating the justice system of Sri Lanka for their own ends. We must wonder what promises were made by the Masters and KP to avoid having to sleep on the floor of a concrete cell.

Stewart Sloan served as a civilian officer for seven years with the Special Branch of the Royal Hong Kong Police Force. In December 2001 he was awarded a Commanding Officer's Commendation for "Attention to duty of a high order displayed in the pursuit of an operation of major security importance." Stewart currently words as an Editorial Assistant for a human rights NGO based in Hong Kong.