I was deeply engrossed in a book, completely absorbed by its words, when a gentle tap on my shoulder disrupted my meditative state. I looked up to find someone standing there, a curious expression on that someone’s face.
“Excuse me,” he said tentatively, “could I possibly take a picture of the book cover? If it’s not too much trouble.”
My gut instinct was to decline the request, but I took a moment to pause and consider. That someone before me was a schoolboy, his eyes filled with genuine curiosity. It only took a few seconds for me to realise that this could be an opportunity to share a small piece of mutual interest. With a nod and a friendly smile, I granted permission for him to capture the image of the book’s cover.
As he aimed his phone camera, a conversation sparked between us.
“Is this subject something you’re interested in?” I inquired, genuinely curious about the stranger’s thoughts.
His reply came as a surprise. “I’m particularly drawn to non-fiction.”
That response caught me off guard. It was not what I had expected, and it made me ponder. Perhaps this young man had a unique perspective on non-fiction that I hadn’t considered before.
I once interviewed a senior Civil Servant who held a dismissive view of fiction. This individual was more renowned for public service career than his literary works. However, I found myself enjoying his skilful command of words and sentence structure. His books were primarily autobiographical, based on personal experiences and insights.
Our preferences and biases don’t always align with our expectations. Just as I found value in the Civil Servant’s autobiographical works despite his disdain for fiction, this student’s interest in non-fiction unveils a layer of complexity that I hadn’t initially recognised.
Those who have an affinity for non-fiction find themselves drawn exclusively to that genre, trashing fiction quite often. On the contrary, fiction enthusiasts often exhibit a broader reading range – they explore non-fiction works as well. What’s particularly captivating is the way non-fiction narratives can sometimes read like fiction, blurring the borders between reality and imagination.
An example that highlights this intriguing dynamic is Professor Rohan Gunaratne’s book titled Sri Lanka’s Easter Sunday Massacre: Lessons for the International Community. This book serves as a perfect illustration of the concept. As chance would have it, I was engrossed in reading this very book when my schoolboy friend stopped by to inquire. His intention was to consider purchasing the book later.
It’s fascinating how a work of non-fiction like Professor Gunaratne’s can capture the imagination in a manner similar to fiction. Such instances highlight the remarkable ability of certain authors to weave factual information into a narrative so compelling that it mimics the immersive experience of fiction. In this way, the boundaries between non-fiction and fiction blur, and readers are presented with an exciting opportunity to explore a realm that resonates with both intellectual curiosity and narrative engagement.
Sri Lanka’s Easter attack has undoubtedly garnered significant attention, giving rise to an array of narratives. While it might not parallel the extensive body of Holocaust literature, over the course of a few years, a diverse collection of creative expressions and non-fiction works have emerged. This has led to the creation of a substantial repository of printed articles that revolve around the tragic incident.
In the aftermath of the attack, tears have been shed, and emotions have run deep. The collective emotional response has even catalysed shifts in the political landscape of the country.
Despite the wealth of potential solutions presented by Professor Gunaratne in his meticulously researched book, there persists a sense of uncertainty regarding the feasibility of rectifying the conflict. It’s a common phenomenon that solutions proposed in research often remain confined to the pages of the book, struggling to make a meaningful impact beyond those boundaries.
Radical Islam force, like any other religious extremism, presents not only a national but also an international security threat. The insidious influence of hate preachers, coupled with insufficient government and societal attention, has allowed this threat to evolve into a violent reality. The landscape of religious and reciprocal radicalisation has fuelled the flames, giving rise to terrorism that casts a menacing shadow over countries and communities worldwide.
A pivotal moment in this ongoing struggle occurred on April 21, 2019, when the world’s most dangerous threat movement, the Islamic State (IS), orchestrated one of its most devastating attacks in Sri Lanka. The events of that fateful day, now remembered as the Sri Lanka Easter Sunday Massacre, left an indelible mark on the nation. The aftermath saw the proliferation of fear, suspicion, and prejudice, splintering the country along divisive lines and sowing seeds of hatred and anger within the ethnic fabric of society.
In the years that followed, the radicalisation pipeline persisted, leaving the threat far from extinguished. With the Islamic State and al-Qaeda’s global expansion, a haunting question emerges: could the world experience attacks of a similar or even more catastrophic scale in the future?
Offering a beacon of understanding in these tumultuous times, Professor Rohan Gunaratne’s work serves as both a treatise and a reference guide. With painstaking research and unprecedented access to accounts from Islamic State detainees, affected families, intelligence specialists, and investigators, the book delves into the core of that matter.
This comprehensive work not only traces the genesis of the threat and the trajectory of the bombings but also delves into the personalities who orchestrated these heinous acts. It sheds light on the valuable lessons gleaned from these tragic events, pondering the ways in which such attacks are orchestrated and, most importantly, how society can effectively prevent or respond to these threats.
By dissecting the past, this pioneering account lays the groundwork for a safer, more secure future—a future where knowledge, understanding, and effective action converge to dismantle the threat of radicalism and terrorism.
Professor Gunaratne skilfully traces the historical narrative of Zaharan Hashim and the radicalised Muslims involved in the Easter attack. He delves into intricate details, shedding light on the process by which they were groomed into becoming suicide attackers. This thorough exploration provides a comprehensive understanding of the events that led to such a tragic outcome.
Nonetheless, the challenge remains as to how these insights can transcend the realm of scholarship and research, and translate into actionable steps that address the underlying issues. The gap between theory and practice is a significant hurdle, requiring a concerted effort to bridge and implement the proposed solutions in a manner that contributes to conflict resolution and lasting change.
Non-fiction writers often play a crucial role in aiding fiction writers by furnishing them with a wealth of historical and contextual information to enrich their imaginative narratives. This symbiotic relationship is precisely what Professor Rohan Gunaratne has accomplished. His comprehensive work not only serves as a valuable resource for understanding the actual events but also lays the foundation for fictional works that can be woven around this backdrop.
Professor Gunaratne’s efforts can be seen as pioneering, setting a precedent for future works in both the realms of fiction and non-fiction. His book not only contributes to a deeper understanding of the events but also provides a fertile ground for creative exploration. This collaborative synergy between non-fiction and fiction has the potential to give rise to a new wave of literary creations, each drawing from the insights and information provided by such seminal works as Professor Gunaratne’s.
Professor Rohan Gunaratne’s well-researched work Sri Lanka’s Easter Sunday Massacre: Lessons for the International Community is available at leading Sarasavi Bookshops.
Sachitra Mahendra