Black July

I find myself wrestling to construct responsible boilerplate that at least suggests Sri Lanka8217;s historical and political complexity. When I wrote the book, this was not the aim.

Love Marriage tells how Sri Lankan politics affect a family living in the United States. The story takes Yalini and her family from suburban America to Toronto, where they reunite with an uncle who has left Sri Lanka after a life of militancy with the Tamil Tigers. The book is about specific characters, not representatives of a culture.

Sri Lanka is a complex place, with multiple ethnicities, religions, languages, loyalties and histories. In July 1983, long-simmering tensions exploded into ethnic riots. An ambush of 13 soldiers from the country8217;s ethnic Sinhalese majority by militants from its Tamil minority ushered in days of anti-Tamil violence in which the Sinhalese-dominated government was obviously complicit.

Both the government and the Tigers have long been criticised for their human rights violations. On the government side, there are mysterious disappearances and killings of mostly Tamil civilians, journalists and aid workers. The Tigers, too, have a stained history: They have used suicide bombers and child soldiers and have killed elected politicians, dissenting Tamils and civilians.

But even this is only the beginning of a longer story. The Sri Lankan conflict has roots stretching back to before its official beginning but we won8217;t go there. Meanwhile, the voices of those supporting the Tigers and the government, often shout loudest, but Sri Lanka has other populations who have suffered. The Tigers expelled Muslims in northern areas from their homes in 1990 and many are still displaced and suffering.

And Sri Lanka has more than one distinct Tamil group: the country already had Tamil populations when British colonists brought Tamils from India to work on Sri Lankan tea estates. Now, the two groups are differentiated with the terms Ceylon Tamil and tea-estate Tamil, and the latter group has its own troubled history of disenfranchisement. And what of Sinhalese who disagree with the government8217;s policies? And, what of Tamils who don8217;t support the Tigers? They exist but are rarely heard.

I am hardly a substitute for all these voices. But given these opportunities to speak publicly about a place I love, I feel compelled to take them. I first really tried to explain the situation last year, in an anthropology class at Columbia. I was completely thrown. When the class ended, I was still trying to explain Sri Lanka. I left the room stunned at my inability to put the country8217;s history into brief, teachable terms.

I know that some people at my readings may never hear much more about Sri Lanka than what I say. All I can do is to be careful in my answers, clarify that I am a novelist, and emphasise that I am only one person answering.

When I8217;m at the podium or responding to a journalist8217;s e-mailed questions, I am viewed as what I am: someone with a reasonable knowledge of Sri Lanka, a member of the Sri Lankan diaspora, but also only a piece of a whole. I, too, am only a part.

Still, there are questions waiting for me.

8220;Can you lay out what the landscape is there, and what is the source of the conflict,8221; asks the interviewer.