From diaspora activism and separatist symbolism to Colombo’s shifting political responses, Sri Lanka’s unresolved post-war tensions are playing out quietly on Canadian soil with global consequences.
Canadian Tamil diaspora organizations have long shown that they are far from monolithic, even among those who continue to support the idea of Tamil Eelam as a separate state for Tamils in Sri Lanka. In fact, recent developments following a devastating disaster in Sri Lanka revealed a contradiction that reflects the complex political character of the diaspora. The Canadian Tamil Congress, once widely viewed as pro LTTE, publicly called on Ottawa to provide immediate humanitarian assistance to Colombo in response to the crisis. That appeal was framed not in ideological terms but in humanitarian urgency, signaling that even groups with controversial political histories now navigate multiple identities and priorities within Canadian society.
Yet only weeks before that humanitarian appeal, Colombo had formally urged Ottawa to prevent events and campaigns that seek to revive separatist narratives or deepen ethnic divisions within Sri Lankan communities. Sri Lankan Foreign Minister Vijitha Herath raised these concerns directly with Canadian High Commissioner Isabelle Katharina after the City of Brampton officially recognized November 21 as Tamil Eelam National Flag Day. The minister stated that certain groups operating in Canada work directly against Sri Lanka’s efforts to promote post-war national unity and reconciliation. Brampton had also drawn attention earlier for unveiling a Tamil Genocide Memorial in May 2025, established by a section of the Tamil diaspora. These symbolic acts, while reflective of diaspora memory politics, continue to trigger discomfort in Colombo where unresolved wounds of the civil war remain politically sensitive.
At the federal level, the Canadian government does not maintain any official policy that supports separatism in other countries, nor does it endorse organizations that promote such causes. However, as a liberal democratic society built on migration, Canada strongly protects freedom of expression. That principle inevitably allows a broad range of viewpoints to surface in public life, even when those views intersect with unresolved conflicts in foreign states. This creates a persistent tension where Ottawa maintains legal distance from separatist causes while allowing political space for activism that Colombo views as destabilizing.
This tension became sharper following the collapse of the Norway-led peace process. Canada formally designated the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam as a terrorist organization effective April 8, 2006. The United States had already classified the LTTE as a Foreign Terrorist Organization in 1997. Yet throughout this period, several Western countries including Canada, despite being a member of the Five Eyes intelligence alliance, continued to permit pro LTTE political campaigns while simultaneously enforcing strict global counterterrorism policies. Canadian intelligence assessments reflected this concern early. The Canadian Security Intelligence Service concluded in 2000 that at least eight non-profit organizations and five companies were operating in Canada as fronts for the LTTE.
Western policymakers initially believed that engaging the Tamil diaspora could pressure the LTTE toward democratic politics. That strategy failed. When Canada formally banned the LTTE, then Canadian Foreign Affairs Minister Peter MacKay justified the decision by stating that “the LTTE’s repeated use of violence since signing a ceasefire agreement is unacceptable and seriously calls into question its commitment to the peace process.” Many in Sri Lanka continue to believe that the diaspora influenced the LTTE’s decision-making. However, those who closely studied the organization noted that the LTTE leadership in Vanni primarily used diaspora structures for fundraising rather than political strategy. After the LTTE was militarily defeated, a handful of diaspora-based front organizations attempted to reposition themselves as political leaders in Tamil national politics. Their influence, however, failed to take root on the ground. They were unable to challenge the Sampanthan-led Tamil National Alliance in any meaningful way.
Today, the Tamil diaspora itself remains deeply fragmented. Some factions align with the Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi, while others support the Gajendrakumar-led Tamil National People’s Front. Even within diaspora movements, disagreements persist over fundamental issues, including whether LTTE leader Prabhakaran is still alive and even the precise date of his death which is variously claimed as May 17, 18 or 19. More extreme assertions claim that Prabhakaran’s daughter remains alive and is actively leading a movement. These narratives circulate most actively in online spaces and appear to reflect the depth of ideological fragmentation within diaspora activism.
From a political standpoint, many flag-waving diaspora groups now openly gravitate toward the Tamil National People’s Front, which presents itself as the ideological continuation of LTTE-era Tamil nationalism. Within the TNPF leadership, including Gajendrakumar Ponnambalam and other senior figures, LTTE terminology remains common. Prabhakaran continues to be invoked as the Thesiyathalaivar or National Leader. These linguistic continuities reinforce the perception in Colombo that symbolic separation between post-war Tamil politics and LTTE ideology remains incomplete.
Canada permits the display of LTTE flags as a non-violent symbolic gesture within its free expression framework. Notably, the original LTTE flag featuring two crossed rifles was subtly modified for display as a Tamil national flag in Canadian contexts. Despite legal restrictions, pro LTTE organizations continue to display original LTTE flags at various events and demonstrations across Canada and the United Kingdom. At a recent anti Tivid protest in the UK, most of the flags seen were original LTTE flags bearing crossed rifles. Such visuals continue to provoke sharp political reactions in Sri Lanka where the conflict remains part of living national memory.
Tamil expatriate activism is not unique within Western democracies. Sikh and Palestinian supporters similarly use Western platforms to advance political causes connected to their homelands. Local politicians often engage these communities as part of electoral strategies. Political scientist Professor Kim Nossal once described this dynamic as the primacy of the ballot box, where foreign policy calculations are shaped by domestic political arithmetic rather than strategic consistency. This phenomenon was particularly visible during Canada’s Harper administration. As a result, Ottawa’s official federal position may often diverge from the actions of municipal or provincial politicians, a reality well understood by Sri Lanka’s diplomatic establishment.
Sri Lanka’s objections to Western-based Tamil diaspora activism did not begin after the war. During the conflict, Colombo viewed only the LTTE as the active threat. After the LTTE’s defeat, pro LTTE diaspora organizations themselves were reclassified as national security threats. In 2014, under the Mahinda Rajapaksa administration, Sri Lanka for the first time domestically designated sixteen Tamil diaspora organizations and 424 individuals under paragraph 4(2) of United Nations Regulations No. 1 of 2012.
These bans have since moved in cycles. After Mahinda Rajapaksa left office in 2015, the Yahapalana administration delisted several organizations and individuals. Following Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s election in 2019, the bans were reinstated and previously delisted entities were restored to the list. Ranil Wickremesinghe later revised the list again. The current NPP government appears to be continuing this same pattern of periodic review. This revolving door of listing and delisting raises a fundamental question. Are these decisions driven by genuine national security logic or by shifting electoral calculations?
One reality is increasingly difficult to deny. Colombo lacks a consistent long-term policy for engaging the Tamil diaspora in the post-war global environment. Before directing criticism outward toward Canada or other Western states, Sri Lanka’s political leadership is compelled to examine its own internal failures. If some diaspora factions now promote separatist narratives, it is partly because Sri Lanka’s ruling elite repeatedly created the conditions of political stagnation that made such activism profitable. So far, the National People’s Power government has not demonstrated that it represents a meaningful break from this historic pattern.
An even more sensitive contradiction lies in Sri Lanka’s domestic handling of LTTE symbolism. While Colombo raises objections abroad over the display of “insignia” linked to separatist ideology, the same symbolism is increasingly normalized at home. Members of Parliament from Tamil parties associated with Tamil nationalism openly praise Prabhakaran in the legislature and celebrate his birthday without institutional sanction. Despite this, no decisive disciplinary action has been taken by the Speaker. This contradiction weakens Sri Lanka’s moral and legal standing when it accuses Western governments of tolerating pro LTTE symbolism.
For the first time since the end of the war, ITAK parliamentarians officially commemorated Maaveerar Naal within the Parliament compound and published images of the event on social media. While some Tamil MPs appear to use Prabhakaran and LTTE memorials as political currency, other actors exploit the symbolism for personal and commercial gain. A recent diaspora YouTube video showed a Maaveerar Naal address allegedly delivered by Prabhakaran’s daughter Thuvaraka, broadcast from Kutchaveli in Trincomalee which is a strategically sensitive location in Sri Lanka. The source claimed that the event was organized by the Rehabilitated United Liberation Tigers Front. If such activities proceed without consequence within Sri Lanka’s borders, the country’s ability to object to similar diaspora conduct abroad becomes severely constrained.
One year has now passed since the NPP assumed power. The electoral record shows that a notable number of Tamil voters supported the party. The NPP secured three parliamentary seats in Jaffna despite active campaigns by northern and eastern Tamil parties urging voters to reject the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna. Yet the central political question remains unresolved. How much measurable progress has the NPP achieved toward a lasting political settlement for Sri Lankan Tamils or credible accountability for wartime victims?
At the same time, uncertainty continues to surround the future of provincial council elections. The government has yet to demonstrate clear momentum toward implementing existing constitutional provisions in full. In this political vacuum, sections of the diaspora grow increasingly restless. History shows that when political stagnation persists, separatist forces exploit the gaps. However, this moment also reveals a shift. Compared with earlier years, many diaspora activists today appear more moderate in tone. During a recent visit to Canada, conversations with multiple individuals reflected a growing realism about political pathways rather than rigid ideological positions.
Historically, separatism did not become central to mainstream Tamil politics overnight. It evolved through the repeated neglect of moderate Tamil political demands. Had the Bandaranaike Chelvanayakam Pact of 1957 been implemented, the polarized trajectory of Sri Lankan ethnic politics might have been profoundly different. As a former rebel movement that now claims democratic transformation, the JVP-led NPP government is uniquely positioned to address this historical failure. Yet so far, it has not demonstrated the level of political will required to translate that opportunity into concrete reform.
The deeper lesson for Colombo is not about controlling symbols abroad but about rebuilding political trust at home. The aspirations of Sri Lankan Tamils cannot be contained through surveillance, bans or symbolic repression. They require credible institutional reform, constitutional implementation and economic inclusion. Until those foundations are laid, diaspora activism will persist, not because foreign governments encourage it, but because Sri Lanka continues to struggle with the unfinished business of its own post-war settlement.
In that sense, the shadow war playing out in Canada is not only a foreign policy dilemma. It is a mirror reflecting Sri Lanka’s unresolved political contradictions, where sovereignty is asserted outwardly while reform remains hesitant inwardly. Until this imbalance is corrected, the political theatre of flags, memorials and identity politics will continue to echo across borders, shaping both diaspora activism and Colombo’s uneasy diplomatic responses.
