The
bitter sweet ironies of 'people power' and constitutional governance
Reflections in this column last week on the nature of civil society
in the context of Sri Lanka's debilitated constitutional and legal
systems is now underscored by bitter sweet irony in contemplation
of the 'people's power' victory in Nepal during the past few days.
A relatively
fledging Nepali civil society and its barely literate people appear
to have won a considerable democratic victory through years of bitter
and determined struggle against a totalitarian and widely despised
monarch. Sri Lanka, of course, has been unable to accomplish any
kind of democratic victory for the past many decades. And for those
who would prefer to dismiss the Nepali victory in one way or another,
let me enlighten these skeptics in no uncertain terms.
I was
in Kathmandu during the first half of January this year on a brief
visiting fellowship which, (fortunately or unfortunately as the
case may be), ended just a day before the Marxists rebels first
blockaded the city, taking their campaign from the rural areas to
higher levels of intensity. In truth, I would have infinitely preferred
to stay on thereafter to witness the clash between people power
and authoritarianism rather than return to Colombo's bland and detestably
hypocritical circles of discussion. But that dangerously tense pre-conflict
period in Kathmandu was also a good learning experience. The grim
determination of people, at all levels, to strive for a democratic
system of government putting both the monarchy and the Marxists
on democratic inquiry, was obvious. Men and women alike, professionals
and housewives, engineers, lawyers and doctors were willing to risk
personal securities in this struggle.
Their
commitment was amply tested thereafter. Just a month before King
Gynanendra conceded defeat and agreed to summon Nepal's parliament,
the most drastic crackdown saw hundreds thrown into jail. Among
these were prominent and elite members of civil society, routinely
educated abroad and who could have easily opted for the luxuries
of life in New York, London and Paris. But the contrary was the
case. Rubbing shoulders with angry trade unionists, workers and
journalists, they vociferously demanded that the monarchy should
yield to democratic governance.
Obviously,
this week's victorious summoning of Parliament should not minimise
serious challenges ahead in Nepal's road to democracy. Neither should
the resurgence of serious corruption within the country's political
parties, (cited to justify the King's takeover of the democratic
process in February 2005), be discounted. However, there is no doubt
that the recent years have demonstrated a collective strength that
the Nepali people ought to be justly proud of.
And
again, this is not to romanticise the Nepali struggle or to say
that democratic institutions in that country are perfect. On the
contrary, the Nepali judiciary is noted for their strategic withdrawals
whenever the authority of the King or military excesses is in issue.
However, what distinguishes the process is the fierce dedication
of its activists and its people at every turn.
In
itself, Nepali civil society is far from being ideal. There are
the usual outlaws - the head of an old and well known Kathmandu
based NGO, for example, continues to hold office despite allegations
of serious financial misappropriation. But rules of accountability
do apply; he is being moved out of the civil society process slowly
but inexorably. In other ways, normal frictions, personal and professional,
are evidenced among members of Nepali civil society. But generally,
there is no doubt that the passion that moves them is lacking in
greater rather than lesser measure in Sri Lanka.
Civil
society debates in Sri Lanka are premised on quite a different level
altogether. Sri Lankan NGOs are, of course the favourite demon of
many who have their own closets full of extremely dubious skeletons.
I remember an instance, some years back, when one mediocre legal
professional, (now drawing a lucrative salary from a ministry as
a 'consultant'), was emboldened enough to question the propriety
of NGO interventions in regard to safeguarding the judicial process.
Another legal professional, (now his colleague consultant and also
drawing a lucrative salary), was, at one time, in the centre of
an unsavoury dispute in regard to using the resources of that ministry
for personal gain when he was a 'consultant' to another ministry.
Both were unashamed supporters, at one time, of an insidiously internalised
politicisation of the country's judicial process. Now, their interventions
are understandably more cautious.
Needless
to say, these persons are monumentally ill qualified to discourse
on the inadequacies or otherwise of this country's civil society.
I also cannot help wondering, quite irresistibly, as to what exactly
they are 'consulted' on, given the rudimentary inability of their
ministers to grasp the fundamentals of constitutional governance.
But,
(and disregarding other rabid criticisms emerging from racially
motivated chauvinists who see an NGO behind every bush), the critique
in respect of many of Colombo's NGO's emanates from other soberly
motivated sources that cannot be dismissed so easily. At its most
significant level, it emerges from within civil society itself,
as manifested most spectacularly in the contempt openly articulated
by grassroots level activists working with victims of human rights
abuses at the first point of contact, against what they term as
"Colombo based elites." These grassroots groups and community
based networks have, for several years, been conducting frontline
defence campaigns against police torture and brutality.
They
directly refute the "NGO" culture subsuming the obscenity
of five star conferences, (on multifarious themes including human
rights, constitutionalism, poverty and the ethnic conflict), with
little participation of actual victims. Scorn is rightly expressed
in relation to such conferences conducted in a language that a large
part of the majorities and the minorities of this country cannot
understand and involving abstruse intellectual discussions that
have no practical impact.
I,
for one, (and I know a number of others as well), now emphatically
decline attendance at conference discussons that do not actively
involve Sinhala or Tamil speaking participants and which do not
allow them space to voice their perspectives. Such dysfunctionalities
are evident in many other instances which cannot be discussed due
to lack of space. Suffice to say that a thorough analytical study,
as opposed to a newspaper column, should be the appropriate forum
for this.
Insofar
as Sri Lankan civil society itself is concerned, the time has come
for serious account to be taken of such criticisms. While external
regulation is to be abhorred for obvious reasons, internal regulatory
mechanisms should be examined more closely. Such regulation should
also be extended to government affiliated foundations and commissions
drawing massive amounts of money from UN agencies, the World Bank
and the Asian Development Bank.
Throughout
however, it is the issue of language that predominates. It is a
matter for the most absolute amazement that so many decades after
independence, language remains such a strong instrument of divisiveness
in Sri Lanka. In contrast, what I found in Nepal was a refreshing
closeness of the Nepali elites with the Nepali language, manifested
in the workings of civil society as well as the media. Conferences
or discussions conducted wholly in English for example, is very
much the exception rather than the norm. Research and writings on
topics such as the law, rights and the Constitution are produced
in greater numbers in Nepali rather than in English, constituting
an important bond in bringing together all those genuinely committed
towards systemic change. In contrast, Sri Lanka is quite peculiar
in South Asia in terms of this extreme dysfunction in language as
well as the extreme gap between the city based and the rural based.
This dysfunction is also not evidenced in India, Pakistan or Bangladesh,
as any activist working in the region will testify to.
If
other examples are to be cited, South Africa will do very well.
Here too, the new constitutional contract in post apartheid South
Africa was forged by a vigorous involvement of the South African
people. Contrarily, in Sri Lanka, a poorly conceptualised Draft
Constitution of 2000 merely patched together various provisions
from other constitutions without embodying a rigorous domestic constitutional
philosophy. It was no wonder that constitutional reforms under Kumaratunga
failed so miserably. An ill thought out 17th Amendment to the Constitution
is now suffering the same fate. Indeed, any constitutional process
taken forward by the old discredited voices that steered the reforms
into disaster at that time will undoubtedly be doomed from the start.
Instead,
what Sri Lanka needs are apolitical, collective and spontaneous
interventions from its cities and villages, generating their own
dynamic. We have had quite enough of strategic input of the civil
society elites into the constitutional/peace process based on political
choices. Like the Nepali 'people power' that came to a zenith this
week, Sri Lankans should be willing to put their personal liberties
at stake for a decently democratic system. There is no gainsaying
after all that, until the South is at peace with its own standard
of constitutional dignity, stability in the North-East will not
be reachable, even at any far distant point in time.
|