Good afternoon. Let me begin by thanking you all for waking up so early to get
on the bus! It is a privilege to speak here on the 20th anniversary of Get on the
Bus and to share this stage with people who have fought long and hard for
freedom, human rights and justice.
Today, on this notable anniversary, I would like to speak about how your
actions here – at this Get on the Bus event – will affect those in prison, and how
we should look to the next 20 years of Get on the Bus.
As Kelly said, I was imprisoned in Sri Lanka on March 7, 2008 under Sri
Lanka’s draconian Prevention of Terrorism Act. After two years imprisonment
even prior to conviction, I was sentenced to 20 years hard labour for writing two
articles that the Government of Sri Lanka did not like. The reason I am standing
here on this stage talking to you and not serving what would be the sixth year of
my sentence, is because of Get on the Bus. It is because the members of Group
133 and students like you had woken up very early on one April day in 2008
and come to New York to protest in front of the Sri Lanka embassy, to meet the
ambassador and ask for my release. Get on the Bus continued to do this until my
release in 2010. What can I say – Get on the Bus is effective! Let’s have a round
of applause for all of you!
Before going on to speak about how and why Get on the Bus’s activism is
effective, let me say a few words about security legislation like the Prevention
of Terrorism Act – the law under which I was arrested and charged. A vital
aspect – a pillar in fact – of security legislation is to force into silence the
individual or group it is used against. The wall of silence serves two purposes: it
prevents the prisoner of conscience, whose most important weapon is ideas, to
stop influencing people. At the same time it also makes the prisoner isolated.
Isolation can be very scary – you only think about retrieving your freedom and
less about your activism.
The thickest wall of silence the PTA creates is that it makes it lawful for the
police to detain a suspect without charges. I was charged only after six months
in police custody. There are people in detention in Sri Lanka today who have
been held without charges for over five years! But prolonged police custody is
not the only issue. While in police custody I was both a victim and a witness to
torture. Always Fear is the biggest silencer.
So how did Get on the Bus activism help me? It was able to create cracks in that
wall of silence and therefore mitigate the effects of isolation.
A tactic of the Government of Sri Lanka was to isolate me by publicly labelling
me a terrorist. Not only did it charge me under counterterrorism law the PTA,
but government propaganda painted me a terrorist working for the armed group
LTTE.
Get on the Bus activism managed to mitigate this in two ways. From protest
marches to writing letters to issuing statements about my unjust incarceration,
Get on the Bus and Amnesty International especially, showed Sri Lanka’s
leaders that I was not alone. And that the walls were not soundproof. There is
nothing that irks governments of little countries like Sri Lanka that bullies their
citizens than to realise that there are others watching its sordid doings.
Second: the marches, letter-writing and statements, helped restore my spirit and
fight on. Because when letters by activists are sent, when international human
rights organisations express concern, their effect percolate down to the lower
levels – to the police inquiring officer and the prison warders.
My first intimation of its effect was quite bizarre. One day a few weeks into my
detention, a policeman screamed at me that just because I had friends in high
places who sent letters it didn’t mean the police was going to be intimidated. I
didn’t quite understand what he meant, until I found out later it were letters sent
by Amnesty and other organisations expressing support for me. After that, the
behaviour of the policemen changed. It was not that they stopped their
intimidation: it was that they were worried about going too far.
The Get on the Bus event here in New York was highlighted in a Sri Lankan
newspaper in April 2008. It was the first time after my incarceration that that
newspaper did not call me a terrorist. The Government of Sri Lanka and the
police was worried that since I had a lot of people asking for my release,
protesting in New York of all places, that I surely had to have friends in high
places! They were right – I had group 133 and I had many friends like you – to
ensure I was not forgotten behind those prison walls.
Each one of you being here, writing letters, you do make a difference for those
of us who have been silenced! And you are very powerful – because you use the
power of your voice and the power of your pen - for justice. So for all those
who are silenced today by injustice, by fear, in Sri Lanka and all over the world,
I urge you please to continue speaking out for them.
As it is the 20th Anniversary of Get on the Bus it is time for some retrospection.
What does GOTB do well? What it does well I think is that it perseveres until
the goal is achieved. GOTB did not only ask for my release in 2008, but it
continued to do so in 2009 and in 2010 until I was actually released.
Another example of Amnesty Group 133’s activism is for Ragihar Manoharan
and the five boys murdered on the beach in the town of Trincomalee in Sri
Lanka. Five boys – students between the age of 19 and 22 – were sitting on the
beach on January 2nd 2006 enjoying the sunset. Then the Sri Lanka elite police –
the special task force – set upon them and killed them in cold blood. For nine
long years Ragihar’s father, Dr Manoharan, has pursued justice for his son and
his son’s friends. However, successive Sri Lanka governments have blocked
justice at every turn.
Sri Lanka as some of you might know, held an election in January of this year
and elected a new president. However, this has not meant there has been justice
for Ragihar and his friends. The police chief accused in the killing of the five
boys is an officer named Kapila Jayasekera. Just last month, he was promoted to
be the Deputy Inspector General of the Capital City Colombo. So today, nine
years after the deaths of Ragihar and his friends, our voices must be louder, our
will stronger and our perseverance greater in order that the five boys on the
beach get justice.
I thank Get on the Bus that they have not forgotten Ragihar. Right now you are
one of the few voices are asking for justice for Ragihar. So please use the power
of your voices – here in this hall, out on the streets in New York and when you
return to your homes to bring justice to Ragihar, his friends and his family. Like
I counted on you, Ragihar’s family too is counting on you: to send a message to
the Sri Lanka Government that until justice is done, Ragihar’s powerful friends
will not forget him.