After Tsunami, Sri Lankans Fear Paving of Paradise

ARUGAM BAY, Sri Lanka -- This was a peaceful chunk of paradise, where the people were neither rich nor poor. They fished the emerald sea in outriggers, cast hand nets in the lagoon and -- increasingly in recent years -- put up surfers in simple guesthouses, feeding them feasts of grilled shark and tuna and serving up cold Lion beers after days in the dazzling sun.

After the Dec. 26 tsunami, which killed about 350 people here and left hundreds of homes and businesses in ruins, the people of this predominantly Muslim community on Sri Lanka's heavily damaged east coast set to work with one goal in mind -- to put things back the way they were.

But the government had other plans.

Residents, who say their views were never solicited, were shocked last month when planning agencies in Colombo, the capital, unveiled an elaborate reconstruction blueprint that would transform the community into an upscale resort of five-star hotels, rental cottages, restaurants, a marina, a seaplane pier, even a helipad.

To make way for the new development, hundreds of fishermen, along with their boats and families, would have to leave beachfront land they have occupied for generations. Dozens of small guesthouses and other locally owned tourist businesses, many of which have only recently reopened, would have to be moved, as well. Government officials recently threatened to bulldoze structures whose owners do not comply with the new plan.

"I have put so much effort in this place, and there's nothing else that I know," said H.M. Hanifa, 47, a burly, bearded father of four who vowed he would "take poison" if the government made good on its threat to demolish his small hostel in a newly declared conservation zone. "They are trying to grab the land and give it to big rich people of their own."

Described by government officials as a model for other tsunami-damaged areas, the plan would require the relocation of up to 5,000 people, according to an estimate by the Sewalanka Foundation, one of the country's largest nongovernmental organizations.

The controversy shows how problems of governance -- including highly centralized decision-making and a lack of accountability -- are complicating reconstruction efforts even in the face of abundant foreign aid and expertise. The tsunami killed more than 30,000 people in this lush island nation of 20 million off the tip of southern India. It displaced about 800,000 people, more than half of whom are still awaiting permanent homes, according to U.N. statistics.

"It's a highly centralized, bureaucratic approach where the affected people's voice is never listened to," said Kusal Perera, a human rights organizer who is coordinating a legal challenge to the plan. "There's no transparency in any of these things."

Mano Tittawella, who chairs the Task Force for Rebuilding the Nation, a government body formed after the tsunami, acknowledged that "probably . . . we had insufficient consultation" with residents of some areas, including Arugam Bay. He also conceded that some property owners -- especially those who had reopened businesses in the conservation zone -- could lose their livelihoods.

At the same time, officials said the plan was necessary to protect the environment, curb unregulated and often illegal development and attract investment that will create new jobs and help alleviate poverty. One of its major features is the conservation zone, a 200-yard natural buffer that would extend along much of the east coast.

As elsewhere in the country, the government has promised to provide land for new homes for residents who will be displaced by the buffer zone; small-business owners will in many cases have an opportunity to shift their operations, provided they meet government standards and can raise the funds to lease or buy new land, officials said.