Extremism could return Sri Lanka to its dark past. This is how I summed up my analysis on the Kandy communal riots of 2018. My worst fears have just come true, and in the bloodiest way. In coordinated attacks that will be remembered as the 9/11 of Sri Lanka, over 200 people were killed and more than 450 injured in explosions at churches and hotels across the country. The perpetrators targeted Colombo's high-end hotels - Shangri La; Cinnamon Grand, which is near the prime minister's official residence; Tropical Inn; and Kingsbury - all popular destinations for tourists.

Easter, one of the important dates in the Christian calendar of Sri Lanka, was turned into a red-letter day as bombs ripped through churches in Kochchikade, Negombo, and Batticaloa during the morning services. My cousin, who is a church minister based in Colombo, said the enormity of the tragedy and the conspiracy behind it are much more than one could fathom. Bombs were still being defused in different churches when I spoke to her in the morning.

"We just turned the page on a decade of peace," a friend said when he called to break the news. He was distraught and wondered if Sri Lanka would ever break away from this vicious cycle. "It cannot be Tamil Tigers. Not Buddhist hardliners. Not the Muslim brethren of Sri Lanka."

"Thank you for the call. Alhamdulillah, we're safe but we lost two of our closest family friends at Shangri La," a Muslim friend messaged in response to my calls. Friends and relatives who touch-base with community leaders and politicians on a daily basis initially said it's preposterous to suspect the hand of Islamic militants in the mindless killings. There were reports that police chief Pujith Jayasundara had issued an intelligence alert to top officers 10 days ago, warning that suicide bombers belonging to the hitherto unknown National Thowheeth Jama'ath (NTJ) planned to hit prominent churches.

But why churches? ask members of the Christian community. Most of the places of worship that came under attack on Sunday were Catholic. Muslims and Catholics on the island have traditionally enjoyed very cordial relations, and the Muslims don't have any historical score to settle with the Christian community. My Musilm friend argues, if Islamic militants are the suspects, they would have come from abroad. "It's unlikely they are domestic militants. There's no evidence to prove that the Daesh has gained a foothold in the country," she says.

So, can this be the handiwork of a new breed of hardliners influenced by the Buddhist nationalism propagated in Myanmar or Thailand? Political analysts point out that the island's hardline monks are not an organised group capable of unleashing a coordinated terror campaign of this magnitude. Sri Lanka's Buddhists majority have always resented a campaign of religious conversion run by Christian groups since the colonial days. One of the major sources of hatred against minorities was the Sinhala-Buddhists' jealousy, insecurity and inferiority complex arising out of the advantages the minorities have reaped from Christian education. Politicians, who understand this Buddhist mindset, had in the past exploited it by fanning xenophobia. But no one on the island is ready to believe such hatred can culminate in a horrendous carnage.

Some Sri Lankans I spoke with collectively surmise that the fact that the nation is heading towards a volatile election year and this is where the investigation has to begin. They argue that for the past two weeks, the political air has been thick with molecules of premonition. Aadara Sevana (Abode of Love) is a social service-cum-prayer centre located in Kundichchaankulamaa, few kilometres from the central Anuradhapura town. The centre, run by the Methodist Church in Sri Lanka, was the target of a mob attack on Palm Sunday, April 14. The mob of 20-25 people issued death threats, pelted stones and burst firecrackers. According to reports, they locked the gates and held a tiny congregation of 15 laity and two clergymen as hostage for nearly two hours until police were summoned to rescue them.

The mob protesting against the church was apparently supported by a Pradeshiya Sabha member elected to office on the tickets of the Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna, the new political party launched by former president and war hero Mahendra Rajapaksa. The former strongman, who was appointed prime minister in a controversial move by President Maithripala Sirisena last year, sparking a 52-day constitutional crisis, later broke ranks with Sirisena's Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP), hoping to make another political comeback in the elections due early next year. On April 19, a silent protest was staged in Colombo condemning the attack on the Anuradhapura Methodist Church, which was attended by interfaith leaders and members of various Christian denominations. As the church asked the parishioners to be vigilant, Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe and the Inspector General of Police met Methodist Church Bishop Asiri Perera to assure him of safety and religious freedom.

Sri Lankans who represent a whole generation that had grown up witnessing war and violence say Sunday's campaign of killing was executed with military precision. They argue that the government would not have done it. Nor any sensible opposition party. The Tigers have not regrouped within the country to amass weapons and explosives.

The Sri Lankan hoi polloi believe that people behind the massacre are the ones who would be able to turn the tragedy into votes. They suspect a political conspiracy to wreak economic havoc by attacking the capital's popular tourist destinations and bring the government to its knees. They draw a parallel between the Colombo tragedy and the Pulwama attack in India's Jammu and Kashmir in February, which resulted in the deaths of 40 police personnel. Nationalism is something that sells well in elections everywhere in the world. US President Donald Trump has successfully played the card. So has Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi. Leaders of the former regime in Sri Lanka, who take pride in bringing the country's decades-old civil war to an end in 2008, could now argue that the liberal administration headed by the Sirisena-Wickremesinghe duo has failed, and could project themselves as the sole saviours. In that sense, they argue that Sunday's was probably a political bomb - metaphorically speaking.

Despite theories, Sri Lankans seem to stand united in the face of this tragedy. Divisive forces will use social media to spread hatred and polarise communities, but sanity should prevail. Sri Lankans should refrain from hurling accusations on social media. Warmongering would only aggravate the situation.

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