by Viruben Nandakumar
As the Sri Lankan state continues to ramp up its militarisation of the North-East, an already marginalised community has now found itself under greater threat. The Tamil LGBTQ community, which has long faced its own intra-community discrimination and struggles for recognition has in recent months come under mounting pressure. A military enforced lockdown in the wake of the coronavirus pandemic and looming parliamentary elections has exacerbated existing inequalities.
LGBT voices in the North and East
To gain a glimpse at the struggle for LGBT voices in Sri Lanka and in the North-East, we need to adopt an intersectional approach which recognises how social and cultural mores intertwine with state violence, geographical divisions, and issues of political economy.
The criminalisation of LGBT identity on the island is often traced back to British colonial rule and the imposition of their penal code. Sections 365 and 365A11 of Sri Lanka’s penal code, are remarkably similar to the penal codes of other former British colonies, including India. Yet, since independence, over 70 years ago, Sri Lanka has not been able to get past its homophobic, transphobic, and bigoted legacy. Instead, we see that this mindset is embedded throughout society, from the rural villages to the highest offices in parliament.
“State violence against LGBT individuals is even more dangerous if you are Tamil. Indeed, Tamils on the island have faced a history of violence at the hands of Sri Lankan security forces - from torture to abductions to extrajudicial killings.”
To be queer on the island means criminalisation of lives both by the state and the community. It may often mean being kicked out of your home. To be physically displaced from your family and community and placed with a private realm of unspoken violence. For the Tamil people, who have faced decades of displacement amidst armed conflict and military occupation, this outcasting within an ongoing genocide is even more exacerbated.
Displacement enables Sri Lankan security forces to target for abuse and sexual coercion “vagrants” whilst barring said individuals from aid designated for family units. In the North-East, where there is an increased military presence and a relative dearth in support, those who have been expelled from their homes and their communities are some of the most vulnerable.
In areas such as Mullaitivu, there were as many as one soldiers for every two civilians in the district, reported in 2017. The military occupation of the North-East has not ceased despite the war ending over a decade ago. Instead, we see that the military continues to occupy the land for its own economic purposes and cultural purposes. The presence of “security” officials has become normalized and they pose a unique threat to vulnerable communities, particularly to women and LGBT individuals. Read more via Tamil Guardian