Sunday Times 2
How parliamentary democracy works
View(s):In the late fifties — I was then a much younger man — I naively thought (as I am sure most of us young people then did) that the people who were elected to public office were the best folk for the job. I used to believe that they had come forward to offer themselves for election because they were committed to legislating, working and acting for the benefit of us the people. They had accepted the responsibility of ensuring that we would be protected from external threats and internal crime, that we would be provided with adequate facilities to be educated to the best of our abilities and that we would be cared for when we got ill. Public service, I was led to believe, was its own reward, because it was a privilege to serve the people of our nation and help them to improve their lot.
How naïve I was! I recall how the late Sam Wijesinha when he was Secretary General of Parliament in the sixties used to arrange an orientation seminar for newly elected parliamentarians after each general election. Realising that many of these men and women who had just succeeded at the hustings and come into parliament had little or no idea how parliament functioned, what facilities were available to them, what things like Standing Orders and Committee Stages were and how the legislature worked, Mr. Wijesinha on his own initiative arranged these “training sessions” for the newcomers. We as journalists would also be invited to attend – partly for our own education, I realised, but also for us to have the opportunity of getting to know those who would be the next crop of up and coming legislators.
In opening the session, Mr. Wijesinha would at random ask one or two of the new MPs, “What would you like to achieve during your time as a member of parliament?” If any of them answered with words like “to serve the country” or “to help the people”, the Secretary General in his own imitable way would sharply bark “Rubbish!”
The new MPs would be taken aback by his blunt response. Mr. Wijesinha would wait for his words to sink in and then smilingly say, “Those may have been your initial intentions — Ratata sevaya karanna etc — but you will all agree that every one of you is now in debt. You are beholden now to those who lent you money to campaign, to those who worked hard for you pasting posters, distributing leaflets and going from house to house to ask for votes, perhaps even to those who provided food and drink and accommodation for you and your supporters. These workers and benefactors will not ask you to repay them immediately — but you are now under obligation to them and during your time in office they will expect you to recompense them for their assistance.”
“That, ladies and gentlemen, is how parliamentary democracy works. So if you want to be realistic and look after your supporters, please remember that you have been elected to represent an electorate and not just your own supporters in that electorate. By all means look after those who helped you — but do so legitimately and don’t neglect those who did not vote for you but also are represented by you.”
Mr Wijesinha had the personality as well as the experience and knowledge to speak thus, like a teacher speaking to his pupils. Many years afterwards, I as well as I am sure many of the other journos present (and hopefully some of the newly elected MPs) have not forgotten his advice.
Sadly, half a century later, I have realised that those occupying the seats in our legislature and the chairs in the cabinet seem to have forgotten that they have been entrusted with looking after ALL the people of this country. Their prime objective once elected is to ensure they retain their positions for as long as possible. So many of them, once elected, use their position to reward their supporters, their kith and kin, their donors and even potential donors. Their aim is not to serve the people but to serve themselves.
In countries like Britain and Japan, there is a well-established administrative service so that political leaders cannot really manipulate the system. It may be cumbersome and difficult to get moving (anyone who has watched the TV series Yes Minister would remember!) but such a system makes it very difficult for legislators to do illegal things.
As one newly appointed Italian Minister expressed it, comparing his new ministry to an airplane: “I do not know how long I will be in the first class section of this plane, nor am I allowed to select my pilot or co-pilot. But I do know that the two pilots assigned to me are experienced and know how to fly the plane. So all I need to do during my years in the plane is to sit back, tell them where I want to go, enjoy the scenery and allow them to fly it. In no way should I attempt to touch the controls!”
Administrators who have been doing an efficient job when the other party was in office are got rid of by a new minister in order to be replaced with “one of our own people” – overlooking the fact that the efficient administrator could, if given the opportunity, continue to function efficiently for the new minister just as he or she did for the old minister. Sometimes the replacement is not someone capable of doing the job but some torch-bearer who will not say no when the minister wants to “fly the plane” himself – with inevitably disastrous consequences.
Can we ever hope for a change in thinking – and hope for something like the Lichchuvi system of governance (that Ranil Wickremesinghe waxed eloquent about some time ago) where all parties worked together in a common assembly?
I wonder…