Who Cares About Our Suffering? "Who cares about our suffering?" This unspoken question lay behind the stories I heard as I listened to a religious leader in the eastern provincial town of Batticaloa, on the island of Sri Lanka. "It is world news when one person in Israel gets stabbed, but not when sixteen people in Batticaloa disappear?" A priest described to me the experience a few days previously of several families working in their fields. Soldiers of the Sri Lankan Forces came up to them and seized the men, whom they marched towards the local army base. Their family members pleaded for their release. The soldiers initially gave verbal assurances of their safety stating "We have wives and sons as well, they will be safe". When the family members persisted in their pleas they were ordered off at gun point. Like thousands of other men in the eastern province of Sri Lanka over the past two years, these men disappeared into the army camp and have yet to be seen again. This cleric is one of a handful of people courageous enough to work on the Batticaloa Peace Committee. The Peace Committee collects information on disappeared people, especially for widows. This information helps the widows obtain a death certificate which is necessary to receive any economic aid available through government agencies. Over the past three years the Peace Committee has recorded more than 4000 disappearances. During that time two of its chairmen have resigned due to threats on their lives or families. It is astounding that the Peace Committee has not only survived, but has become a tolerated intermediary between the armed forces and the local people. They have negotiated the right to have all detainees released through the Peace Committee. The Peace Committee cannot broadly publish it's facts on disappearances in order to avoid censure, being labelled as subversive or being condemned as serving political interests. It is run completely on a voluntary basis, and peace committee members purchase what few supplies they use out of their own pockets. One of the reasons we hear so little about the situation in Sri Lanka is because information is tightly controlled in Sri Lanka. Journalists who are critical of official policies risk a fate similar to that of the village rice harvesters. The murder of a well known Sri Lankan journalist a few years back still serves as a reminder to media workers. His death remains an "unsolved crime". This can be explained in part by the fact that eye witnesses identified a senior superintendent of police as part of the abduction team which kidnapped him. Although there are 150 periodical publications on the island, critical papers can find themselves unable to print through lack of paper. Newsprint is a controlled substance in Sri Lanka, and can only be imported under license, along with explosives and fire arms! Papers producing critical articles have found their offices sealed by tax assessors in a strange, focused concern by that government department on media offices. To combat attacks upon journalism and free expression, Sri Lankan journalists and media professionals recently joined together to form the Free Media Movement. They have been careful not to ally themselves with any Sri Lankan political party to avoid being labelled a political tool. The FMM seeks to inform the public about threats to democratic process contained in the increasing restrictions on free expression, stop attacks on media personnel, and curb the blatant abuse of public mass media by the government for its own political purposes. Since the middle of 1992 when the FMM formed, they have held rallies and demonstrations in various parts of the island to protest proposed restrictions, or bans by local government officials on critical publications, sometimes directly challenging the ban by selling or distributing the banned publication on the street. The banner headline of one major newspaper recently read Batticaloa Returns To Normal. Normal for the people of Batticaloa now means accepting having one's bag checked by a soldier at a check point every time one goes to the market. The cleric in Batticaloa told me before we parted, "When I started work in Batticaloa forty years ago, it was paradise. There were no murders. Occasionally there were domestic disputes, and these people would talk about them for a long time. Now all that is gone. We have lost our innocence and can never go back to what we were. Now when sixteen people disappear, the response is 'Only Sixteen!'". He sighed and shook his head. Although the people of Sri Lanka may never regain innocence it is the dedication and courage of people like the Peace Committee and the FMM that will rescue and restore dignity to this jewel of the Indian Ocean. Yeshua Moser Note: Yeshua Moser is a nonviolent activist living and working in Thailand. He was in Sri Lanka as part of the Peace Brigades International volunteer team of human rights observers.