Columns

Last Wednesday was Britain’s “night of the long knives”. This Hitlerian analogy from the early 1930s might not be entirely apposite. All the same much blood has flowed since Theresa May took over the reins of government and her blood letting was still going on at the time of writing. In a day or so it will become clearer whether the political cleansing has stopped, as I suspect it will, now that the major surgery has been performed.

But this is all metaphorical speech of course for British politics has not acquired the violent, obnoxious and boorish characteristics of Sri Lankan political life though over the years several leaders had faithfully promised to establish anything from a dharmishta society to a yaha palanaya.

Still there are nascent manifestations that the malignancy Sri Lankans have lived through particularly in more recent years is slowly poisoning the British body politic. This might come as a surprise to many because those who have entered politics here consider it an honourable profession even though the public at large might disagree and could, on occasion, turn out to be terribly undignified.

Most British politicians have dedicated themselves to serving the people unlike back in Sri Lanka where most politicians have dedicated themselves to have the people serving them.

I am still to hear of British politicians physically attacking rivals, members of the public or officials performing their mandated tasks. It contrasts sharply with the behaviour of some our own who believe that wielding fists and other parts of the anatomy is the preferred way to settle political rivalries or other disputes.

Britain's outgoing Prime Minister, David Cameron with his wife Samantha, waves in front of number 10 Downing Street, on his last day in office as Prime Minister, in central London. REUTERS/Stefan Wermuth

So Speaker Karu Jayasuriya’s Code of Conduct for MPs distributed to them before the Sinhala and Tamil New Year to read and digest might as well be deposited with the mortician judging by the reported conduct of several of our law makers since the Speaker’s ‘Holy Grail’ was passed on to those servants of the people who labour under the delusion that the people are their servants. The Code of Conduct should be interred with their bones.

These differences in the philosophy of political conduct and their actual behaviour itself are perhaps best illustrated in the turbulence in British politics since the “Brexit” referendum less than a month ago.

Its genesis is in the referendum promised by the then British Prime Minister David Cameron two years ago offering the public the opportunity to decide whether their country should remain in the European Union or leave.

Cameron misjudged the mood swings of the British people particularly having failed to control immigration and win enough concessions from the EU bureaucracy when he tried to negotiate new terms in some regulatory areas.

Since he led the campaign to remain in the EU and the majority of the people voted to leave, the prime minister felt obliged to resign though he need not have done so.

In Sri Lanka’s post-independence history I can only think of one Prime Minister who has resigned in somewhat similar circumstances – Dudley Senanayake during the hartal of 1953 though others including the present Prime Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe left office after electoral defeats.

Cameron did the honourable thing though some of his own party members including those who led the campaign to exit the EU, prevailed on him to stay on and carry out the people’s mandate.

The initial turmoil in the Conservative Party which was split over the referendum and in the search for a successor to Cameron was settled earlier than expected as those who threw their hats into the ring quickly withdrew, leaving Theresa May the only woman standing.

It was indeed admirable how quickly the transition happened, how quickly a cabinet was put in place and how swiftly the new ministers got down to work. One example is the new Chancellor Philip Hammond’s meeting with the US Treasury Secretary at No 11 hours after he accepted the new portfolio.

Switch channels and consider a similar scenario in Colombo. First the new minister’s favourite astrologer would have to be asked to consult the stars and set date and time to appear at his office like a bride arriving at the marriage registry.

On the appointed date the minister will turn up with family and retinue who will all stand beside or behind him as he signs some book so that they appear in the ‘poto’ as the battery of photographers invited for the occasion click away. Soon the photographs will appear in the media.

No such formalities over here. The new ministers go to their offices, perhaps address the staff as new Foreign Secretary Boris Johnson did, and get down to business sans kavun, kokis, kiributh and bananas imported strictly under EU regulations that set out curvature, size and width of the fruit.

Even though David Cameron had been Prime Minister for a little over six years the first time I saw the entire family was when they were leaving No 10 for an audience with the Queen. The three children were kept away from public view or public occasions.
But in the Miracle of Asia family members are thrust into public view or thrust themselves. They are all over intimidating others in night clubs, police stations and other public places throwing their weight around, performing tasks though they have no official role and even barging on to the stage at public events and earning public derision.

David Cameron thought that with a leadership contest in sight he could stay on at No 10 until at least autumn and the annual Conservative Party conference. But with the leadership issue quickly settled he had to leave No 10 at short notice which he did. The new Prime Minister moved in shortly after, the movements so smooth that it seemed like travelling on the Silk Road.

Cameron had to make hasty arrangements to find a roof over his head. Back in Sri Lanka some ministers and others who held office during the Rajapaksa days refused to quit their official residences and for months continued in occupation despite official notices to hand over the premises. It would not be surprising if some of them are residing in official residences almost one year after they were ousted from office.

Moreover you will not find some ministers who served the Cameron government and were deprived of their portfolios going home with their official cars unlike in the Asian Miracle where some official vehicles have not been handed over and others have disappeared even from official records.

New Prime Minister May’s day was done when she had her cabinet in place by Thursday, the day after she took office. Those in Sri Lanka who follow British politics would find that a country with a population of some 60 million has a cabinet of 25.
That was the size of the cabinet the yapalanayas promised the people it would have, unless of course circumstances demanded an increase by 10 or so more.

Today a country of around 22 million people has ministers and deputies numbering 92 at the last count. I suppose when all is said and done it would surprise no one if this country ends up having separate State or Deputy Ministers for coconut trees, arecanut trees and banana trees.

Whether the distribution of public funds in this indiscriminate and clearly political manner is tantamount to the abuse and misuse of public assets and possibly bribery is a matter that should be addressed by legal minds and those mandated to track down offenders.

After all the advocates of yahapalanaya faithfully promised to eliminate corruption not proliferate it. Talking of tracking down those who turn out to be disruptive of work in public office a little known fact is that No.10 had an officially selected individual to perform the task. It is a cat named Larry. I think No10 got itself this cat when the previous one was ‘retired’ less than a year ago.

Its official task was to catch rats that appear to have infested the Prime Minister’s office and residence. How many rats it actually caught might have to be obtained under the Freedom of Information law. But it is known that it did catch some and earned the sobriquet “Dirty Larry” that some gave it. The Foreign Office next door has its own rat catcher which Boris Johnson will now have to deal with.

But one thing is certain. To catch the rats that infest the public offices and state-owned institutions in Sri Lanka will require more than a Dirty Larry. Our rats are far more prodigious and more difficult to catch. They have many bolt holes and unlike in those days when they hid their ill-gotten gains under the mattress, globalization makes it possible to keep it even with their mistress.
So the Presidential secretariat and Prime Minister’s office would need to arm themselves with resources that can catch rodents with two legs instead of four.

If the ruling Conservatives have swiftly settled internal party differences, the Labour Party is in the throes of strife with most of its MPs in rebellion against its leader while the wider membership and trade unions in support of Jeremy Corbyn at the extreme Left of the party and a lacklustre figure.

In an unprecedented rebellion the majority of Corbyn’s shadow cabinet resigned leaving him bereft of sufficient support in parliament to fill the vacancies. So like the Sri Lanka opposition’s attempt to rustle up a shadow cabinet all they have been able to produce is a shadowy cabinet with MPs resigning here and in Colombo.

Labour’s troubles will continue until the matter is settled before its autumn party conference. Corbyn is being contested by Angela Eagle whose office in her constituency was attacked and a brick thrown through a window and her office staff threatened with death in abusive telephone calls. It resulted in the local police commissioner calling it scandalous behaviour and an insult to democracy.

Sri Lankan political conduct has graduated from brick throwing. But one need not worry. The more Sri Lankan politicians visit this country the more our political culture will permeate British political behaviour. So instead of sending delegations of MPs to influence the Sri Lankan diaspora, the next generation of British politicians would perhaps thank us profusely if they are taught less gentlemanly and more manly ways of dealing with obtrusive rivals and an irate public.