Rethinking Tamil Nationalism 

in Today’s World

Ajith Rajapaksa

I recently read excerpts from a speech by my friend and a Tamil activist Jude Prakash, delivered at the Professor C. Eliezer Memorial Lecture 2025 in Melbourne, Australia. His reflections on the relevance of Tamil nationalism today raise important questions about identity, progress, and the future of political struggle.

The speech questions whether Tamil nationalism, once a proud force of resistance and identity, remains relevant today. It argues that the movement lost its purpose by neglecting the real needs of Tamil people, education, healthcare, and economic advancement, while clinging to outdated slogans and rigid ideologies.

Tamil nationalism, he argues, lacked practical direction and credible leadership. Internal divisions and ego-driven politics weakened its unity, while the leadership failed to grasp the changing aspirations of modern Tamils who now seek empowerment, partnership, and prosperity rather than perpetual struggle.

A new generation of Tamils, particularly with in the global diaspora, now values inclusion, opportunity, and progress more than ethnic exclusivity. Meanwhile, demographic decline in the North and East has eroded the movement’s social and territorial base.

With Sinhala nationalism appearing less dominant under the new political wave, Tamil nationalism has lost its traditional adversary and must now redefine itself for a time of peace. The speaker calls for a renewal, economically grounded, principled, and outward-looking Tamil nationalism that combines cultural pride with pragmatic engagement.

In short, Tamil nationalism must evolve from a politics of resistance into a movement for empowerment, unity, and progress if it is to stay relevant in today’s world.

The above reflections are likely intended to provoke introspection among Tamil nationalists and encourage rethinking of the movement’s future direction, particularly mobilising the Australian Tamil community and the wider international diaspora.

To understand this argument more clearly, it is necessary to revisit the historical evolution of Sinhala and Tamil nationalism in Sri Lanka.

The Roots of Sinhala and Tamil Nationalism

Tamil nationalism is often seen as the mirror image of Sinhala nationalism, both products of the long shadow of colonialism. The colonial powers perfected the art of division, not only geographically but also politically and psychologically. Sri Lanka was no exception. Across Asia and Africa, imperialist rule left behind deep scars of communal division that continue to shape national politics today.

In Sri Lanka, nationalists from both Sinhala and Tamil communities eventually played into the hands of imperial and local elites. By exploiting ethnic sentiment, these power structures, maintained control through division. It was the Left, particularly the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), that once tried to unite people across ethnic and religious lines. For a time, that movement stood as a genuine alternative, promoting solidarity among workers and peasants regardless of identity.

However, as history unfolded, the Left lost momentum. It entered coalitions with Sinhala nationalist forces such as the SLFP, diluting its original vision. Yet leaders like Dr. Wickramabahu Karunaratne and others held firm in their belief in unity, equality, and regional autonomy. They rejected violence, believing in mass participation and non-violent struggle as the true means of change.

The Tragic Parallel: JVP and LTTE

Both in the South and the North, petty-bourgeois nationalist movements emerged, the JVP and the LTTE. Though different in ideology and rhetoric, they shared a similar political pattern: intolerance, militarism, and the suppression of dissent. Each turned its guns not only on the state but also on socialist and leftist voices who dared to question their path.

In the South, leftist activists, workers, and trade union leaders were murdered for standing up to JVP extremism. In the North, Trotskyites like Barrister Annamalai and other Tamil leftists were hunted down by the LTTE. Both movements claimed to defend their people, but each destroyed those who offered democratic and inclusive alternatives. In the end, they became two sides of the same tragic coin.

The Tamil diaspora, too, failed to challenge these destructive trends. Many remained silent, while others became trapped in the emotional and financial machinery of nationalism. After 9/11, when global attitudes toward armed groups shifted sharply, the LTTE ignored the warning signs and continued its militarist path. By then, the diaspora had become largely a fundraising arm rather than a political conscience. When the war ended, there was no new generation of leaders, they had been wiped out by the state or by the LTTE itself. The diaspora became demoralised and divided without a direction.

Lost Opportunities and Betrayed Alliances

The tragedy of Sri Lanka’s modern history lies in the bridges that were built, and then burned, by extremists. The collaboration between southern leftists and northern progressives in the 1980s, under the leadership of Vijaya Kumaratunga, showed the promise of a different path. Vijaya envisioned a common political front uniting all communities around the ideals of democracy, autonomy, and peace.

Some Tamil militant groups influenced by leftist thought supported this initiative. Posters showing Vijaya Kumaratunga and Tamil Nadu Chief Minister M. G. Ramachandran embracing each other symbolized a moment of hope for reconciliation and regional solidarity. Yet that hope provoked fury among hardliners on both sides. Nationalists could not tolerate the idea of cooperation, and they destroyed it, along with one of the island’s best opportunities for unity and progress.

Southern Nationalism and Its New Disguise

It would be naïve to believe that Sinhala nationalism has faded with the end of the war. It remains deeply embedded in political and religious institutions, even if it now wears new disguises.

The National People’s Power (NPP) movement rose to prominence by tapping into public anger over corruption and economic collapse. Although its original base was small, it successfully mobilized disillusioned Rajapaksa supporters through its anti-corruption narrative. Yet this does not signify the decline of Sinhala nationalist forces. They remain legitimised by the Buddhist clergy and powerful cultural institutions and can be reactivated swiftly.

Anura Kumara Dissanayake (AKD) understands this dynamic. His political survival depends on navigating, or at times accommodating, Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism. Despite its rebranding as the NPP, the JVP has historically opposed devolution and the 13th Amendment, arguing that economic development alone can resolve ethnic grievances, an illusion that overlooks the deep cultural and political dimensions of the national question.

Some Tamil groups, disillusioned with traditional Tamil politics, have lent their support to the NPP. But this risks legitimizing an old ideology repackaged in new clothes. The JVP’s record speaks for itself. Once it allied with Sinhala extremists to oppose devolution. Later it joined capitalist governments it had denounced. It supported the Rajapaksa war effort, and now it defends the IMF’s austerity program. This is not socialist transformation, it is political opportunism dressed in populist slogans.

Rethinking Tamil Nationalism in a New Era

More than a decade after the war, Tamil nationalism stands at a crossroads. The armed struggle has ended, but the struggle for equality and dignity continues. The challenge now is to redefine Tamil nationalism, not as a force of separation, but as a democratic, inclusive, and forward-looking movement.

Nationalism can still have relevance, but only when it is inclusive and cooperative. It must embrace dialogue, reject isolation, and adapt to a world where collaboration is essential. For Tamil politics, this means building bridges across ethnic and regional lines rather than walls of suspicion.

The Left’s historic lesson remains vital: nationalism can liberate, but it can also divide. It becomes destructive when it turns inward and exclusionary. But when it becomes a tool for empowerment, equality, and solidarity, it serves a democratic purpose.

Real change in Sri Lanka cannot come from one community acting alone. It requires alliances with progressive forces in the South, with Sinhalese and Muslim workers, farmers, and youth who face the same exploitation and authoritarianism. The fight for democracy, economic justice, and equality must be shared across the island.

Building such alliances is not a compromise. It is the only path forward. Through cooperation, Tamil nationalism can evolve into a movement for coexistence and shared prosperity, helping to shape a more pluralistic, equal, and democratic Sri Lanka.

Nationalism in Developing countries

Nationalism in developing countries can easily become reactionary, serving as an ideological cover for local ruling elites to preserve their dominance while claiming to act in the name of “the people.” True liberation, however, cannot end with national independence. It must transcend national boundaries and evolve into internationalism, the solidarity and unity of people across nations, because capitalism and imperialism operate as global systems. Without this broader vision, nationalist movements risk becoming trapped in neo-colonial dependency, reproducing the same structures of exploitation under a new flag.

Nationalism is progressive when it resists global financial institutions, corporate domination, and Western hegemony. But it turns regressive when it fosters chauvinism, ethnic exclusion, or aligns with local oligarchies that perpetuate inequality and dependency.

Conclusion: From Division to Common Purpose

Sinhala and Tamil nationalism have long been trapped in cycles of fear and revenge. Yet the future need not mirror the past. The new generation of political thinkers, North and South, must rediscover the forgotten lesson of the early Left. Unity through equality, and equality through democracy.

Tamil nationalism, reborn through cooperation rather than isolation, can become a force for justice and coexistence. It can remind all Sri Lankans that freedom for one community cannot come at the expense of another, and that the only nationalism worth pursuing is one that defends the dignity and equality of all.

Ajith  Rajapaksa, Colombo Telegraph, October 21, 2025