So Where's the Secretary General?It's likely that a nondescript beach in the Mullaithivu district of northeastern Sri Lanka will soon be noted alongside Sabra and Shatila and Srebrenica in terms of scale of horrors witnessed. The French daily Le Monde and the Times of London have both published pieces suggesting the U.N. is sitting on a report that estimates a death toll of 20,000 following the Sri Lankan army's final, five-month siege against the separatist Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam. The Times has also has analyzed images from aerial footage — journalists have been denied access to the conflict zone for months — in which massive grids of shallow graves are easily seen. Secretary General Ban Ki-moon, nonetheless, has vehemently denied that his U.N. is stemming the release of such findings. The final hours of the conflict saw the rebels held up and encircled amid a large civilian population; they were soon cornered, trapped by the sea to the north and Sri Lankan troops in all other directions. What should have been a no-fire zone quickly turned into a killing field as the government forces shelled the opposition and their hostages, and the Tigers mowed down those civilians that attempted to flee. But why has the world heard so little of the final chapter of this decades-old conflict? In large part, it's because the Sri Lankan government was rather masterful in denying access to the story. It assured that no photographers, no reporters and certainly no human rights examiners would be on hand to document the final throes of the conflict. The government also refused International Red Cross access to 265,000 Tamils who fled the siege who are now being held in barbed-wire "welfare camps" as the Sri Lankan military attempts to further weed out militants. And now, shockingly, the government seems to have avoided any measure of international inquiry into the end days of the 25-year-old civil war. What's equally shocking is that members of the EU continued to arm the Sri Lankan government even as their intentions to eradicate the Tamils by whatever means necessary became clear in recent months and years.
For their share, the Brits seem to have gotten quite little. An effigy of Foreign Secretary Dave Miliband was burned as the British Embassy was assaulted with rotten eggs by 1,000 protestors in mid-May as the Brits — at arms' distance — attempted to mediate a peaceful surrender of Tamil leaders. It was an endeavor that concluded with Tiger leaders Balasingham Nadesan and Seevaratnam Pulidevan — baring white flags in hand as ordered through diplomatic channels — being shot in apparent cold blood. Indeed if there was ever an occasion for post-World War II institutions to have played a pivotal role, this was likely it. The international community, for once it seems, might have had sufficient leverage — if unified and resolved — to convince the Sri Lankan government to end the conflict peaceably. Putting such pressure on the government would have neither forced global powers to incur substantial costs nor contradicted their strategic interests. Yet the secretary general failed to rise to the occasion, uninterested or unable to rally neither governments, nor international media, nor global public opinion to demand a peaceful surrender before thousands of innocent Tamils were needlessly lost. What use — it has once again become worthwhile to ask — is the U.N. in such a context? New York needs new blood, and the Sri Lankan government deserves to be investigated. Brian Till, one of the nation's youngest syndicated columnists, is a research fellow for the New America Foundation, a think tank in Washington. He can be contacted at till@newamerica.net. To find out more about the author and read features by other Creators Syndicate writers and cartoonists, visit the Creators Syndicate website at www.creators.com. COPYRIGHT 2009 CREATORS SYNDICATE, INC. 
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