-By A Staff writer
(Lanka-e-News -08.Nov.2024, 9.35 pm) Ilanadu Published an Article in November 2024 - In what can only be described as a saga of barbed wit, fiery rebuttals, and a theatrical clash of ideologies, M. A. Sumanthiran and Gajendran Ponnambalam, two giants in the Sri Lankan Tamil political scene, have recently locked horns in a battle that would give any Shakespearean drama a run for its money. This verbal duel, initiated by Ilanadu‘s sharp critique of Sumanthiran’s 15-year political journey, has led to a chain reaction of accusations, counterclaims, and enough sardonic comebacks to fill an entire comedy revue.
In the article that lit the match, Ilanadu painted Sumanthiran as a man of diplomacy, more inclined to discuss Tamil issues with Western diplomats than to enact change for his constituents. The piece was quickly picked up by Ponnambalam, leader of the Ceylon Tamil Congress, who decided it was time to sharpen his rhetorical rapier and strike.
“Fifteen years!” Ponnambalam was quoted as saying, “That’s enough time to raise a family, build a business, or even learn to dance. Yet, what has Mr. Sumanthiran accomplished? He talks with diplomats, travels, and collects funds, but what has he actually done for the Tamil people? Where’s the beef, Sumanthiran?”
Ponnambalam’s critique went viral among the Tamil diaspora, reverberating through communities in Toronto, London, Sydney, and beyond. With his cutting one-liners, he portrayed Sumanthiran as a political illusionist, more style than substance, giving the Tamil people dreams of hope while achieving little in return.
Refusing to let the accusation stand, Sumanthiran struck back, using his own blend of diplomacy and sarcasm. In Velveted Today, he issued a challenge: “Mr. Ponnambalam, you speak of action and representation? Show me what you can do. Win the election this time, become a parliamentarian, and bring about all the change you claim is possible.”
Sumanthiran then added, “As for my travels, it’s amusing to be accused of courting the West. If reaching out to global allies to support Tamil rights is a crime, then consider me guilty. But if Mr. Ponnambalam prefers I stay home, I’d ask him to clarify—does he propose that by standing still, our cause will somehow move forward?”
The duel between the two soon took on a life of its own, with responses pouring in from political pundits and even retired politicians. But Ponnambalam didn’t stop there. He countered with accusations of betrayal, alleging that Sumanthiran “helped the government defeat Tamil separatism,” associating with foreign interests, and turning his back on Tamil aspirations in exchange for political influence.
Ponnambalam wasn’t alone in his campaign. Other Tamil politicians saw an opportunity to join the fray, leveling new allegations. A small, boisterous faction argued that Sumanthiran’s “Western connections” meant he was more attuned to foreign interests than to the concerns of his own community. Some even accused him of covertly aiding then-President Mahinda Rajapaksa during the final phases of the war, a claim that Sumanthiran has steadfastly denied.
In one particularly colorful statement, an unnamed Tamil political figure likened Sumanthiran’s diplomatic engagements to “a chess player using the wrong pieces.” He added, “Sumanthiran, for all his eloquence, has mastered the art of making promises that are as slippery as a fish in the Jaffna lagoon.”
Meanwhile, Indian political figures from the BJP also entered the scene, urging Hindu Tamils in Sri Lanka to refrain from voting for Sumanthiran. The advice stirred the diaspora further, as Ponnambalam’s campaign morphed into an international appeal, demanding that overseas Tamil communities withhold funds from the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) and its partner, the Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi (ITAK), headed by Sumanthiran.
The Tamil public, caught between these two warring factions, is left to wonder which narrative holds the most truth. On one hand, Sumanthiran represents the pragmatic diplomat, attempting to gather international support and lobby on behalf of Tamil rights. On the other, Ponnambalam’s fiery critique suggests that Tamil politics has devolved into a waiting game, one that Sumanthiran, with his polished public image, may be reluctant to disrupt.
As one elderly Jaffna resident put it, “Both men are dancing around the issues. One dances in Colombo, the other dances in front of us. But when will someone actually do something?” This sentiment is echoed widely, with many in the North and East wondering whether the solution lies in a new brand of Tamil leadership entirely.
Political observers, taking the opportunity to blend comedy with commentary, have framed the battle as “The Battle of the Tweedledums,” calling Sumanthiran and Ponnambalam two sides of the same political coin. In one particularly biting editorial, a columnist suggested that Sumanthiran and Ponnambalam consider forming a “Stand-Up Tamil National Congress,” selling tickets to their arguments and allowing the audience to vote on whose rhetoric holds more entertainment value.
“Just imagine,” the columnist mused, “Sumanthiran opens with a tale of his travels, then Ponnambalam responds with a critique. We could settle political debates by applause.”
The clash, though comedic in the eyes of some, raises questions about the future of Tamil leadership. As Sumanthiran defends his record and Ponnambalam champions a return to “true Tamil principles,” the public is left weighing substance against rhetoric. Both men have support bases, and both have detractors. But the verdict will ultimately rest with the voters.
With each round of sharp criticism, the pressure builds, and all eyes are on the upcoming general election. Will Ponnambalam rise to the occasion and claim a seat in Parliament? Or will Sumanthiran’s pragmatism prevail?
One thing is certain - Sri Lankan Tamil politics hasn’t seen such an engaging political showdown in years.
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by (2024-11-08 16:15:11)
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