Reuters

Prabhakaran mourns a cub

THE Sri Lankan government, and the majority ethnic-Sinhalese population that backs it, are gloating over the death of S.P. Tamilselvan, political commissar of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam, in an air raid on November 2nd. To them it is proof that the Sri Lankan army has gained the upper hand under the leadership of Mahinda Rajapaksa, the president, and his brother, Gotabhaya, the defence secretary. They believe the latter's boast that his forces know the whereabouts of the Tigers' leaders, and that they will be killed one by one. To government loyalists, Sri Lanka is well on the road to an “honourable peace” in its 25-year war, based on the total defeat of the Tigers, who have been fighting for an independent Tamil homeland in the north-east of the island.

Things look very different to neutral observers. They see an accentuation of the Sinhalese-Tamil divide, not its mitigation; an escalation of the war, which saw fierce fighting in the north on November 7th; and a further setback to efforts to reopen peace talks and draft a devolution package that would satisfy moderate Tamils. They also point out that the Tigers' daring assault on the Anuradhapura air-base last month, in which 24 out of 27 aircraft were either destroyed or damaged, showed they could infiltrate, stalk and maul a prized prey in the Sinhalese heartland.

The government paints Tamilselvan as not a politician but a soldier, whose elimination was justified by the norms of war. Only recently, he had commanded Tiger soldiers in the northern theatre. Keheliya Rumbukwella, a government spokesman, alleged that, during peace talks abroad, Tamilselvan had clandestinely negotiated arms deals. And while the government wanted to discuss the core political issues in the ethnic conflict, Tamilselvan raised peripheral issues to derail the talks.

Ordinary Tamils are too scared to comment. But their leaders insist that Tamilselvan was a political leader and not a legitimate military target. Tamil newspapers said that his “assassination” could kill peace efforts and intensify the war in the north and east, where hundreds of Tamils, and many Muslims, have been killed in the past year, and about 300,000 displaced by shelling and air-raids.

If the government is gearing up for war in the Tigers' northern strongholds, the Tigers are breathing fire too. Their brutal leader, Velupillai Prabhakaran, said the assassination had only strengthened the group's resolve. The fear is of renewed terrorist attacks in the south, especially in Colombo, the capital, where President Rajapaksa has ordered a tightening of security.

One disturbing development is a revival of interest in Sri Lanka's Tamil issue in the Indian state of Tamil Nadu, just across the 30km-wide (19-mile) Palk Strait. In the 1980s, its Tamils, now numbering some 60m, helped house, finance, train and arm Sri Lankan Tamil militants. The state's chief minister, M. Karunanidhi, opened a can of worms by penning a poem praising Tamilselvan and talking of the “Tamil brotherhood” binding Tamils across the globe. This revived memories of the late 1980s, when he was also chief minister and openly supported the Tigers.

The main opposition party in Tamil Nadu, the All-India Anna Dravida Munnetra Kazhagam, condemned Mr Karunanidhi's condolence message, saying that he had broken the law by praising a member of a proscribed group. The Tigers were banned in India after the assassination of Rajiv Gandhi, a former prime minister, in 1991. Tamilselvan's death has revived the issue of Tamil ethnicity in Tamil Nadu, which could help whip up support for the Tigers there. This is worrying Sri Lanka. At least one newspaper has asked the government to take the matter up in Delhi.

Meanwhile, the detention in London, on a charge of travelling on a forged passport, of the former Tiger commander known as Colonel Karuna, was another cloud for the government. Colonel Karuna split from the Tigers in 2004. The United Nations and human-rights groups have since accused the government of complicity in crimes committed by him in Tamil-speaking parts of eastern Sri Lanka. He is alleged to have extorted money and recruited children for his armed group, which is alleged to have army backing.

He was reportedly allowed to leave Sri Lanka clandestinely, as he had become an embarrassment to the government. But on going to join his wife and children in London he was detained by the immigration authorities. As human-rights groups pursue him, he risks a high-profile investigation and trial that might embarrass both his former Tiger comrades and his new government masters.