Editorial: A realisation that life must go on

It is easy to criticise the tourists at Phuket and other Indian Ocean resorts who went back to the beach a few days after the tsunami and lay in the sun within sight of the devastation. Did they not know that the dead were still being discovered among the debris and the survivors still sifting through the ruins of their lives? What possesses people that they can lie back and sun themselves instead of lending a hand? If they cannot make themselves useful, at least they could have the sensitivity to stay away, couldn't they?

Those who ask these questions are themselves a comfortable distance from the disaster. The same sentiments are not being heard from residents of the damaged resorts or their Governments. Quite the contrary, the Thai authorities, for example, are anxious to ensure that tourists are not discouraged from returning wherever it is practicable. And, as we report today, the holidaymakers are readily accepting their role in the resorts' recovery. "It's not nice," said one, "but I stay for the people."

That, of course, is a convenient rationalisation from a tourist's point of view. The truth, more likely, is that the visitors had booked their holidays, could not cancel or cut them short without a financial penalty and, since they are there, are trying to enjoy themselves as best they can. It's human. It's life.

And they are a minority. On the beaches where there were thousands of tourists before the tsunami, there are now just a handful, the Herald's Catherine Masters reports today. Many, perhaps most, of the people who would normally be at places such as Phuket this week have decided to go elsewhere. They are a greater worry to the resorts than those who, selfishly or not, are ready to ensure that life goes on.

Life must go on. Every person who suffers a death of someone close soon comes to that realisation. If it is at first difficult to see people cheerfully going about their lives as though nothing has happened, it eventually seems the right thing to do. When President Bush said, in the wake of the tsunami, we would "prevail", he presumably meant humanity would not be cowed by the forces that produced the disaster. It was a strange thing to say; the possibility that we might be cowed had probably not occurred to most people.

Life always goes on. In that respect the Indian Ocean resorts are probably more fortunate than Bali just over two years ago. Carnage caused by human intent is more frightening than a natural disaster because it is more likely to recur. Bali has had to work strenuously to revive its tourist appeal. Phuket, Sri Lanka and other places in the tsunami's path should have less difficulty in that regard. Lightning, most people sense, does not strike twice.

It is not uncommon for sensitive people to maintain a respectful distance from death for much longer than the bereaved would wish. That is true of personal grief and it is probably true of communities, too. Phuket, Sri Lanka and the other places are probably relieved to see signs of tourism returning. It is the tourists who probably feel more awkward about it, particularly if they come from wealthy Western countries where some of their compatriots think it wrong, at the best of times, to take holidays in the Third World.

The waves had scarcely receded last week before solicitous souls were blaming poverty for the disaster. The toll would not have been as great, they complained, if people in those coastal communities had more sturdy buildings and better things to do than sell bric-a-brac to tourists from stalls along the seafront. Perhaps, but a refusal to visit such places will never help them to get richer, and some in South and East Asia have become rapidly richer when the enterprise of their people has been combined with good and honest government.

Resorts swamped by the tsunamis need aid right now but not for too long. They have the spirit of enterprise and they need customers more than compassion. For them, leisure-seekers must return. Life must go on.