A lifetime of living as political pariahs |
When Tamil Nadu votes for a new Assembly on 23 April, the ritual of democracy will unfold with familiar precision. Polling booths will open at dawn, voters will queue up in the heat, fingers marked with indelible ink will affirm participation in the Republic.
But across more than a hundred refugee camps scattered through the state, nearly 60,000 Sri Lankan Tamil refugees will watch from the margins. Many arrived as children fleeing war. Their children were born in India, raised in its schools, shaped by its politics and anchored in its society. Yet none of them will vote. Four decades after crossing the Palk Strait in search of safety, they remain outside the democratic compact of the country they call home.
This exclusion is not new, but in the years since the Citizenship Amendment Act was passed, it has acquired a sharper edge and become more visible than ever before.
The story begins with a week of violence in 1983, a ‘Black July’ that altered the course of Sri Lanka’s history. Anti-Tamil riots erupted across the island following the killing of 13 soldiers by Tamil militants. Mobs attacked Tamil neighbourhoods, burned homes and businesses. Hundreds were killed and thousands displaced.
The violence deepened into a civil war that would last more than two decades. For civilians caught between the State and militant groups, escape became the only option. Many crossed the narrow stretch of sea to Tamil Nadu in fishing boats and makeshift vessels. The arrivals came in waves through the 1980s and 1990s. At its peak, more than 200,000 Sri Lankan Tamil refugees were living in India. Camps were set up as temporary shelters — they would go back when it was safe to return. That moment never came.
While tens of thousands live in towns and villages, more than 58,000 refugees continue to live in government-run camps in Ramanathapuram, Tiruchirappalli, Madurai, Salem and........