The Easter attacks one year on: How far have we come?
A few months ago, I got into a PickMe cab, on my way to a midday work meeting. It was prior to the presidential election, and the radio was playing an hourly news alert with an update on the candidates. The driver, with no prompting on my part, asked me in Sinhalese, “Miss, are there a lot of Muslims where you live?”
I was taken aback at this strange, abrupt question. Nevertheless, I knew where this was going. “I…. really don’t know,” I responded in Sinhala.
“Well, you see them, right? Everywhere. Have you heard - I just heard - Turkey has gotten it right. They have a military -- the fourth strongest military I think. They have a strong military so that they can keep the Muslims out. Did you know that?”
I was bewildered. Where was he getting his information from? “I don’t think that’s true,” I said quietly. “They have a military but I don’t think it’s to keep Muslims out. I think… Turkey has a large Muslim population actually… Where did you see this?”
He paused. “Ah. Well I saw it… I saw it somewhere on the internet. And people told me.”
I nodded. “Ah. Well I don’t think that’s true, really. I think around 60% of the population of Turkey is Muslim.”
“But this good Muslim, right? They are fighting the bad Muslims.”
I paused. “Who are the bad Muslims? And who are the good Muslims?”
He paused again, then gestured noncommittally. “You know. There are good ones and bad ones.”
“What would you say is the difference?” I pressed.
He glanced at me through the rear-view mirror. “You’re a good Sinhalese girl, right? You know who they are.”
I smiled. “But who do you think they are? And where did you see this?”
He gestured noncommittally again. “You know, I saw something on Facebook. And a video on YouTube.”
In the aftermath of the Easter Sunday attacks, calls for accountability were accompanied by another disturbing, yet expected, behavioural consequence: a spike in religiously and racially motivated attacks against those observing the Islamic faith/who identify as Muslim. These types of attacks are typically motivated by fear: fear of losing one’s economic/social/political status to those from another group. The same instinct that can ensure our survival can lead to our demise. Fragmented societies within nation states can lead to civil unrest and as we have seen in Sri Lanka itself, escalate into civil war. Across history, some have aimed to foster these divisions for political and economic gain.
Terrorist bombings can lead to vicious cycles of radicalisation. Those who experience or consume media about terrorist bombings can be motivated to engage in dangerous and hate speech towards members of a group whom the terrorist group will never wholly represent. The term “extremists” are used for a reason: terrorists are not representative of the entire group they allegedly represent. They operate on the fringes, often co-opting the ideologies of a group to carry out their more violent motivations: to create vicious cycles of terror and radicalisation (sometimes for economic gain).
Everytime you engage in dangerous speech, you are contributing to the terrorists’ goals by creating societal divisions. You create individuals who feel alienated by their former friends and colleagues, and may become more inclined to listen to the radical messages shared by the few extremists. Humans are social beings and we form groups to feel included. When we engage in dangerous speech, we create group divisions that worsen the problem -- and increase the actual threat that can undermine the strength of a society and nation-state.
What is dangerous speech?
Dangerous speech is defined as “any form of expression ( e. g. speech, text, or images) that can increase the risk that its audience will condone or commit violence against members of another group.” The crucial point here is that dangerous speech refers to behaviours that can increase the risk of violence.
Dangerous speech refers to both committing and condoning violence. While ethnic/ religious violent acts are usually carried out by a small portion of a group (usually young men), their actions are often supported and justified by those around them, including mothers, fathers, siblings, friends, teachers, employers, etc. “Generally, when a society suffers major intergroup violence, a few commit it and a much larger number condone it.”
Think back to the communal violence of 2014, where Muslim businesses and homes were attacked by mostly militant SinhaleseBuddhists. There is strong evidence to support that most of the violence (and ensuing communal violence in Gintota, Beruwala, etc.) were carried out by young men. However, discussions about the events often involve both men and women, young and old, either denouncing or justifying the violence on political, social, economic, or religious grounds. Dangerous speech includes the justification of these types of acts that can contribute to both Sinhalese-Buddhist and Islamic radicalism.
Where do we go from here?
Building awareness of what constitutes dangerous speech online and in schools.
No one is ever born hating other people. We learn to hate. Training of what constitutes dangerous speech and its effects should target and segment audiences across gender, age, and socio-economic status. It can help people question the incidence of events that culminate in violence: when their friend makes a racial slur into a joke, or share a racially- motivated, “funny” meme online, an awareness of how these seemingly one- off, irrelevant comments contribute to a larger culture of derogation and dehumanization could help reduce social divisions. It can help people, young and elderly, call out racism within their homes, schools, and workplaces, and be more critical of racially motivated online content masquerading as jokes, thereby legitimizing outgroup derogation.
“Never again,” does not happen overnight. “Never again,” means that we ensure that we intervene when we see problematic behaviours so that we never again see them culminate in mass violence.
Many of our peacebuilding interventions are not reaching out to those most at risk of being radicalised. We need to change this.
There is a selection bias in most peacebuilding interventions. Many programmes require participants to sign up to learn more about how they ( often youth) can engage in peace and security. Individuals already interested in sustaining peace self-select into those programmes. These are usually those individuals least likely to commit violence within their communities, and less likely to interact with those most vulnerable to radicalisation. Engaging with those most at risk of committing violence is key. Programmes targeting the reduction of violence extremism should be working to connect with individuals influential within groups most at risk of committing violence to create meaningful behavior change.
Media that can sow confusion: Beware of availability cascades.
We see a video on social media that says that in the aftermath of the bombs that went off on Easter Sunday, more bombs will be dropped by planes overhead, and that the airport will be targeted. We hear rumors that ISIS is involved. We listen to a WhatsApp voice file on how the terrorists are internationally funded. Ah, it’s a voice file, we can hear someone, so it must be true. We remember the LTTE planes flying overhead during the civil war. We remember the bombing of the Bandaranaike International Airport. We start to see increased security on the streets and at the airport. We conclude that this must mean that the rumors are correct -- there are increased threats at the airport, an increased threat of bombs being dropped by enemy aircraft. The media picks up on this. This is an availability cascade. Even though they don’t report on bombings at the airport, and there is no actual evidence to support that the airport will be bombed, or that air raids will occur, panic ensues. We start to believe that something that isn’t actually happening, is happening. In the end, there’s nothing there - except for heightened anger towards Muslims who had nothing to do with the bombings or the rumors. We are also left with more robust, legitimized dangerous speech.
Beware of the availability cascade, especially during heightened tensions. Look for strong evidence. Don’t share messages that can sow confusion (even with your family and friends, even if you say “Forwarded as shared”!) WhatsApp messages don't count as evidence.
A year has passed since nearly 270 people were killed in a terror attack in our country. We owe it to them to be better. Many of us who grew up during the war detest a spiral into prolonged violence.
Fostering a common group identity along national lines could bolster trust across ethno- religious lines. Every message we send that dehumanises another group, via jokes or fake stories, everytime we awkwardly laugh off that racially-motivated comment, everytime we ‘forward as shared” an untruthful story that’s motivated along political/ religious/ social divisions, and every time we justify the wrongdoings of our own group members over others, we take a step towards the risk of future violence. It’s been a year since the Easter bombings - how far have we come?
(Kulani Abendroth-Dias is a behavioral scientist and PhD candidate. For more information visit kulaniabendrothdias.com.")
A longer version of this article appears on our website sundaytimes.lk