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Greater hypocrisy hath no men than this, that men lay themselves down on the plush red carpeted floor in the Well of Parliament and have a rollicking good midnight feast, singing songs, playing cards and doing a spot of mimicry whilst ostensibly keeping an all-night vigil of protest in the name of their fallen leader. If the good shepherd lays down his life for his sheep, this was the white fleeced sheep’s way of sacrificing their sleep, bleating for the return of their shepherd who had lost his footing and gone over the hill.

Monday night’s unprecedented degradation of Parliament’s inner sanctum by UPFA MPs to stage a saccharine sathyagraha on the pretext of objecting to the Bribery Commissioner serving summons on Mahinda Rajapaksa to answer an allegation of bribery, made a mockery of the edifice wherein lay enshrined the sanctity of a people’s sovereign will.

Whilst the nation clamoured for their elected representatives to debate the 19th Amendment Bill as was listed in the Parliament’s agenda for Monday and Tuesday, the opposition, which had earlier agreed to take it up, found in the Bribery Commissioner’s procedural action, a welcome last straw to defer the all-important Bill. They bore no qualms; they showed no remorse and lost no time to make an issue out of the summons and to use it as an excuse to fling the duty twenty million Lankans had placed on their shoulders to amend the nation’s constitution.

On behalf of the people, in the interest of the nation, in the furtherance of democracy, they were solemnly called upon and presented with the opportunity and charged with the duty in the main to repeal the obnoxious 18th Amendment, to appoint constitutional councils which would check the president’s arbitrary powers, to empower the people with an enforceable legal right to governmental information, to restore the disqualification for a twice-elected president to contest again and, amongst others, to restore the independence of public institutions.

By discharging their duty they would have reduced the draconian powers the President enjoys today. These were the powers that Maithripala Sirisena swore in his manifesto to abolish within 100 days of being elected to office; and, true to his word, steadfastly strove to see abolished or diminished.

But it was not to be. Many SLFP members had enjoyed great privileges, ministerial positions and many opportunities to make hay while the Rajapaksa sun shone; and now faced allegations of corruption, faced the ordeal of enduring a spell sprawled on the anti-corruption rack and even the prospect of a long-term in prison. They thought otherwise.

On the narrow ledge of self-interest upon which they had placed their twisted priorities, their declared purpose to secure a guarantee from the Government to end what they termed ‘the political witch-hunt against Opposition politicians including former President Mahinda Rajapaksa and ex-defence Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa’, took precedence and ranked above the public demand to enact the 19th Amendment to dawn greater democracy to Lanka and thereby touch the lives of 20 million Lankans for the better.

What Lanka required, what her people demanded were of no concern to them. They couldn’t care less nor give a fig for public opinion. Thus, like a musth struck herd of rogue elephants they ran amok, causing a stampede over an issue that did not warrant the frenzied response that turned Parliament to pandemonium.

The Speaker had no choice but to adjourn sittings for the day. But the crisis could not be pre-empted that easily. Seizing the moment and eager to extract the maximum benefit out of it, Opposition MPs and some ministers of the UPFA commenced a hunger strike, a fast until their demand was met, in the Well of Parliament.

Wimal Weerawansa put the opposition’s stance succinctly when he appeared before the media and said, “It can be the 19th or 20th or 25th Amendment. It is not important. What is important is that this political hunt against the Rajapaksas must stop immediately and we will carry on our protest throughout the night and even tomorrow night until our demands are met and it is stopped.”

These are the men and women who did not lose a wink of sleep when the freedoms, liberties and fundamental rights of the Lankan people were being trampled by the Rajapaksa regime of which they were proud to be ‘honourable’ ministers and the favourite political lackeys. These are the men and women who did not blink an eye or lift an eye lid but instead raised their hand and voted for the draconian 18th Amendment which consolidated power in Mahinda Rajapaksa.

When people in Rathupaswala took to the streets and protested over their chemically contaminated drinking water, when fishermen in Negombo protested over their livelihood and were fired upon indiscriminately resulting in deaths, these are the men who kept their eyes shut and their mouths dumb, preferring instead to kiss the ground their leader walked on and, even as Pavithra Wanniaarachchi shamelessly did publicly, prostrate in worship at the feet of the former President.

When a team of UNP MPs paid an inspection visit to Hambantota Port and were met by a stone pelting, egg throwing mob led by the pistol brandishing SLFP Hambantota Mayor, did Wimal Weerawansa, Bandula Gunawardena and company forego a single meal in protest or make even the mildest appeal to the then president to secure the safety of their parliamentary colleagues? Did Dinesh Gunawardena speak then as he did on Tuesday of the need to maintain the “dignity and decorum of the House and MPs at every affair related to them”?

By their irresponsible behaviour on Monday, the SLFP-led opposition members have lost their legitimacy to represent the people who elected them five years ago. They stand accused of gross dereliction of duty in their unforgivable failure to consider the national interest first. By placing self before country, they have abdicated their sacred responsibilities; they have passed beyond the pale of political redemption.

With them pursuing an agenda which is totally opposed to the national interest, it is evidently clear that the nation cannot move forward, the Government will be held to ransom at every turn. The President has no alternative but to dissolve the House and call for a fresh general election with new SLFP members nominated, whether or not the 19th Amendment is passed this coming week. Come what may, the situation cannot get any worse. Only better.

SUNDAY PUNCH 2

Peduru party rocks House with sing-songs, cards and mimicry

It’s Monday morning, April 20. Parliament is scheduled to take up the 19th Amendment to the Constitution, an amendment long overdue and long awaited. But the SLFP-led UPFA opposition has other things on its mind. The 19th Amendment can wait. So can the people. Far more important is to protest over the summons delivered to the former President to make a statement to the Bribery Commissioner. And to receive an assurance that the Government will immediately halt ‘a political witch-hunt against Opposition politicians including former President Mahinda Rajapaksa and ex-defence secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa.’

To win their demands, they announce that they will be launching a hunger strike, a fast that will continue until their demand is met. And so begins their little melodrama staged in the belief that the ‘fast’ is the thing to save the honour of their king.

The Speaker exits the chamber after adjourning Parliament for the day. A hunger strike to win personal demands of immunity is being staged by the MPs and, for the first time in the history of Lanka’s parliament, they are doing it in the Well of the House. The upawasaya has begun proper. Suddenly it’s manic Monday.

With Parliament now not in session and switched off, the chamber starts to resound with the cacophony of varied ringtones as members turn on their cell phones to buzz to the outside world the goings on behind Parliament’s closed doors. As the day wears on and high noon fast approaches, what began grandiosely as a hunger strike until demands are met, a fast to the death turns to a farce as the epithet ‘fast’ mysteriously goes astray and can no longer be found especially since no one is particularly looking for it.

Even as an army marches on its stomach, the old Napoleonic saying holds true for Lanka’s honourable opposition as pangs of hunger rumble in their pot bellies and the saliva stimulating summons of the Parliamentary chef waft in to make the gourmands in them make haste to the parliament canteen to sup the scrumptious luncheon. Though not willing to serve the public interest they have no remorse to serve themselves from the people subsidised buffet spread. But since someone must hold the fort of protest so that it continues without a break, they agree to lunch according to a roster system.

With their generally insatiable appetites now temporarily sated, the long dreary hours stare them in the face and it suddenly dawns on them that a protest without an audience is no protest at all. It’s like winking at a girl in the dark. You know you are winking but she doesn’t. To rectify the situation, some are drafted to occasionally slip out to dish out a Situation Report to the waiting media. The Speaker is informed that the protest will continue through the night. Around parliament sixty personnel are ordered to stay overnight to ensure that those having a sleep-over are well looked after.

Meanwhile back in the chamber of the House arrangements are being made, again on a roster basis, for selected groups to go home and ‘put a bath and come’ with fresh clothes and whatever else that may go to make the evening session more jolly. Some phone home and order the evening gear to be delivered pronto.

As the sun goes down, things begin to liven up. Sixty-eight-year old film star Malini Fonseka sheds her starched sari for the evening scene and turns up for the Peduru Party in the Well of Parliament kitted up in trendy trousers and T shirt showing that age had not withered her nor custom staled her views on fashion. Pabha, once Dilan Perera’s monitoring minister dons the same gear while the whiter than white image conscious Pavithra comes draped in the traditional prim and proper six yards sari wrap and looks overdressed amongst a crowd that have begun to sport the hair-hang-down, cool casual look. Wimal, Rohitha, Johnston, Mahindananda, amongst others, turn up in sarong and T-shirt and some come even in shorts.

The scene is set for the Peduru party to begin and, for the first time in its history, the old walls of the chamber that may have been in danger of cracking with the boredom of hearing long and windy speeches is ready to receive a colourful splash of song, dance and laughter as the spirit of bonhomie sets in and hovers over the proceedings that appear to have long forgotten what the protest is all about.

Dinner is being served in the canteen and again according to roster members troop out to grace the buffet tables and gorge on the public funded array of Chicken Fried Rice, Devilled Chicken, Noodles, String-Hoppers, Kirihodi, Fish, Bread, Pol Sambol. Alas, but understandably, the hoppers that topple governments are not on the menu.

By 9 p.m. the place is filling up as more MPs arrive for the slumber party. Now around 90 are present. Cliques form and each gravitate toward their groups. They repeat anecdotes, and go down memory lane to their schooldays. They speak of their childhood love affairs, relate kiss and tell stories, talk of broken affairs and broken hearts. Laughter rings the air forcing Rohitha Abeygunawardena to assume the Speaker’s role and shout ‘Order, Order” whilst the bemused deputy speaker Chandima Weerakkody can scarce conceal his laughter.

At 10 p.m. parliamentary staff wheel in another round of milk coffee and snacks to ensure no one goes hungry, that no one dies of hunger in the protest that started as a death fast. As more MPs drop in on the ‘do’ after having refreshments elsewhere at nearby friends’ homes, the tempo picks up and Rohitha is the first to burst into song. He is soon joined by Wimal, Mahindananda and Dallas and the walls that may have only echoed the odd jana kavi now resounds with a Jothipala remix, Only Mervin is missing to render Jothipala’s hit ‘Ninda nene rathreeye’ or his final tribute song ‘Raja kirulu paladha rajjuruwo ,rate hamata eray handhe eliya gena rajjuruwo’ Others join the chorus as the Jothi, Kapuge, Karunaratne, Divulgane non-stop song medley goes on.

It’s now eleven in the night and the night owls land to feast the revelry now in full swing in the chamber — where its ‘Members Only’ night at the nation’s most exclusive night club. Now the number of MPs present has risen to over 110. Amidst the singing, a card game is going on. Seated on the floor are Janaka Wakkumbura, Ranjith Soyza, Shehan Semasinghe and Pabha playing cards. A crowd is gathered around them and is advising Pabha on how to play her cards right. Mahindananda spots Malini Fonseka who starred in the film ‘Thushara’ and stars serenading her with Jothipala’s film song ‘Oh, oh Thushara, oh, oh Thushara’ whilst performing the film’s dance routine which wins him a big round of applause.

Next on the agenda is the mimicry section. Rohitha kicks off the act with an impersonation of Reginold Cooray whilst Wimal and Mahindananda occupy the parliament seat normally occupied by Ranil Wickremesinghe and impersonate him giving a speech which has the members in stitches. While all this is going on Ranjith Soyza lays his cards down and starts to collect the signatures to the petition demanding that the Bribery Commissioner be sacked. At 1 am another round of coffee is served by the parliamentary staff and as the third watch of the night begins sleep summons the revellers to hit the sack, or in this case, to hit the floor. But not before the staff are summoned once more to bring in some sheets to cover the MPs especially those wearing shorts to whom the chill of the chamber’s air conditioning is too cold to handle. By 2.30 am all are asleep.

As dawn breaks over the Diyawanna and parliamentary staffs sneak a peek into the chamber, they witness the morning after the party before. Some MPs lie sprawled in various postures. Some lie on their backs with legs stretched widely apart, some lie curled like foetuses, some on their sides with their clothes in disarray and some on their stomachs with their noses firmly planted on the seat cushions borrowed from the chairs MPs generally sit on and warm their bottoms whilst the House is in session. Some are on the floor, some are on the steps near the entrance and some are lying near the Speaker’s podium in various stages of sleep and some are snoring loudly with their spittle drooling mouths wide open. With the songs stilled and the gaiety gone, the spectacle must appear reminiscent of the sight Prince Siddhartha witnessed of the sleeping dancing girls that made his decision to renounce worldly life final.

Yet for the MPs, their strenuous protest brings results in the morning when Parliament meets.

The Speaker announces that a Bribery Commission official would visit the former President instead of the latter having to visit the Bribery Commission.

True, the decorum of Parliament may have been reduced by the night time frolics in the chamber. But it had served its purpose. And none had gone hungry. Some may have even put on a couple of pounds. It may turn out to be a pyrrhic victory, though. But what a jolly time was had by all winning it.