A case of limited
conscience
The 19th
Amendment to the Constitution that was tabled before Parliament on
Thursday illustrates strikingly the dilemma that a country faces when
its democratic structures have collapsed to the extent that no constitutional
amendment can ever be wholly correct. This is very evident when one
examines that part of the 19th Amendment permitting Members of Parliament
to vote having regard to their conscience in specific instances, illustrating
a Hobson's choice of a particularly striking variety.
In the first
instance, it is interesting that the 19th Amendment, as it is finalised,
deviates from previous thinking in that now, the right to dissent
is given only in respect of any amendment to the Constitution.
The draft immediately
preceding the final draft gave broader protection to an MP who speaks
or votes or abstains from voting according to his conscience or
against any direction of a Party Whip in Parliament. This was both
in general and specifically with regard to the power attempted to
be newly bestowed on Parliament to resolve by majority vote that
Parliament may be dissolved in particular circumstances, thus necessarily
curtailing the power of the President to exercise powers of dissolution.
As it now stands
therefore, clause 6 of the 19th Amendment prohibits a political
party or an independent group from expelling or suspending from
membership or subjecting to disciplinary action any MP who speaks
or votes or abstains from voting on any amendment to the Constitution,
according to his (or her) own belief or conscience or free will.
Necessarily, it also provides that the seat of such Member in Parliament
shall not thereby become vacant.
The two questions
here are extraordinarily obvious. Is it fair that the Constitution,
by explicit provision, imposes what in effect, amounts to a stranglehold
on a political party with regard to the action that it may see fit
to take against a member? Is it justifiable that a distinction is
made between free will of members of parliament in respect of constitutional
bills but not in respect of ordinary legislation, which may, in
particular contexts, provide as important a question of conscience
as amendments to the Constitution?
The first question
conjures up fairly nightmarish scenarios. Theoretically, the 19th
Amendment envisages a possibility that a particularly fractured
party could have a majority of its members in the House, still purporting
to represent their constituents from the party from which they were
elected under PR but openly if not vociferously disagreeing with
the policies of the party in so far as amendments to the Constitution
are concerned. The party's power to deal with these rebellious members
would be stayed for all intents and purposes.
For those who
have consistently taken the view that proportional representation
has led to intensely authoritarian party regimes in this country,
this scenario may not appear to be all that bad. Indeed, a mischievous
spirit may well rejoice in the fact that the 19th Amendment may
turn prevailing party pre- eminence completely on its head.
We have seen
instances where this has resulted in the rankest injustice as was
evident when two hapless members representing Kamburupitiya and
Hakmana were summarily expelled merely for abstaining from voting
on the 13th Amendment to the 1978 Constitution. This was, as could
be recalled, despite the explicit explanation of one parliamentary
member that the various party organisations in his electorate were
strongly opposed to his voting in favour of the 13th Amendment.
This pre-eminence
given to the party has been buttressed by the reasoning of the Supreme
Court which initially preferred to take the view that an individual
member is merely a cog in the party wheel whereas it is the party
that has become the spokesman of the country's interests. (Gunewardena
and Abeywardene v Fernando, 1989).
Later decisions,
(notably Dissanayake v Kaleel, 1993 and Thilak Karunaratne v Sirimavo
Bandaranaike et al 1993) specifically disagreed with this relegating
of the relationship between a party and a member to master and servant.
However, there was no significant departure from overall acceptance
that the system of proportional representation gives pre-eminence
to the party as opposed to an individual member, provided that there
was observance of essential requirements of natural justice in dealing
with rebellious members.
The judgement
in Thilak Karunaratne, where an SLFP MP had been publicly critical
of the then leader of the party Sirimavo Bandaranike, however, did
make the particular point that, with regard to "non-constitutional
functions of a member", there was no stipulation that such
member was meekly bound to obey a direction of the party.
In this context,
the 19th Amendment insofar as it contemplates the displacing of
the party as the authoritative voice with regard to amendment of
the basic political structures by which we are governed, is welcomed.
However, the ambiguities that it will most certainly bring about,
should not be taken lightly. On the other hand, the 19th Amendment
might have only provided that a Member of Parliament may not lose
his parliamentary seat consequent upon dissent with the party.
This would
have addressed the situation pointed out most succinctly by Colvin
R. de Silva decades back, that "All over the world, parliamentarians
are supposed to show their independence by crossing the floor. Here,
you can't cross the floor or if you cross it, it must be because
you are cross with yourself because you end up outside.
Now, is this
the kind of parliament you should have? How will that be an instrument
of any kind of democracy, leaving aside pluralistic democracy? What
kind of instrument and what kind of policies and what in heaven's
name will that parliament be doing?"
While this sort of limited amendment is more politically correct
than the 19th Amendment as it now stands, it could lead to tensions
of a different nature as evident in Sri Lanka's political system
of late, where "crossing the floor" has taken on a strong
personal flavour as opposed to disagreement on actual issues of
conscience. And though it may be argued that constitutional amendments
should not be limited to current political realities but instead
be envisaged within broader liberal democratic structures that prevail
in countries around the world, the consequences of ignoring the
former may well prove to be fatal given the extent of political
opportunism that prevails today.
One alternative
to the resulting Hobson's choice may well be to make dissent on
a matter of conscience an issue on which an individual member is
ultimately compelled to seek the approval of the electors who voted
the member into Parliament.
While this
would obviously limit the more blatant instances of political opportunism,
the practical difficulties of implementing this within the PR system
which envisages district-based voting rather than electorate-based
voting or even within the presently contemplated mixed system, raises
questions of a different kind. Ultimately, may it be the 19th Amendment
or otherwise, we are witnessing constitutional tinkering of the
most desperate kind, which like the Emperor's new clothes, cannot
hide the stark truth that our political structures have become corrupted
to a degree that escapes the corrective influence of the most sophisticated
constitutional mechanism.
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