Abandoning constitutional governance

By Kishali Pinto Jayawardena

Notwithstanding the deceptively religious zeal of the Rajapaksa administration in prosecuting the war against the tiger striped enemy in the North, let us not engage any longer in unconscionably complacent thinking that the conflict and related issues are all that is wrong with this country. Such naivete presupposes the belief that if tomorrow, the conflict is brought to an end (through no doubt, a suitably divine intervention), Sri Lanka would return to responsible governance. This is far from the case. We have abandoned principles of constitutional governance to such an extent that reversing the consequences of such abandonment will be painfully slow and almost impossibly laboured.

Party discipline and the politicization of governance

The sequence of events at each and every disputed point bears this out. The continuing laissez- faire attitude of the office of the Rajapaksa Presidency in regard to the Mervyn de Silva episode at the offices of the Rupavahini corporation is just one illustration. The Peoples' Alliance, it appears, does not believe in party discipline any longer, except as a weapon to castigate any party member for crossing over to opposition ranks. The referral of the dispute to a party committee instead of the full weight of the law being exercised against this individual who still continues to hold ministerial rank, is shameful indeed.

Let alone de Silva's condemnatory actions at the state broadcaster, footage of his various vulgarly reprehensible exploits on other occasions were also aired by the electronic media during that time. Particularly, his obscenely crude admonition to an officer-in-charge of the area on a previous occasion where he was addressing, (if that term can be used to dignify the activity concerned), a political rally for not being present and pointing to the detriment that can follow by that police officer's absence, given the senior superintendent of the area was also present, is a good illustration of the same.

With open toleration of politicians of this nature within party ranks, we are justified in asking as to the purpose of a National Police Commission which is supposed to bring back order and discipline in the police force? But then, when one examines the manner in which this body itself has been packed with appointees of the President and indeed, that it has been wholly unable to fulfill its constitutional objectives, the overall political scheme becomes very clear.

In fact, de Silva's supreme disregard for consequences attendant upon his behaviour is well shown by the fact that he allowed himself to be televised while threatening that police officer and indeed, seemed to be delighted to have his exploits featured on national television, all excepting the beating that he sustained by the staffers at Rupavahini. Cumulatively, such behaviour amounts to the most serious breach of party discipline. Yet, no action is taken. And as citizens, we can only say most vehemently, shame on you, Mr President.

The JHU and the Constitutional Council

At another but connected level to this question of responsible governance, the efforts of the Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA) to bring about some consensus regarding the nomination of the remaining member to the Constitutional Council (one slight ray of hope that emerged as the country entered upon a new year), appeared to have also been stymied at the last minute by the Jathika Hela Urumaya (JHU). The objections of the JHU appear not to be directed to the personality of the individual named as the nominee (obviously so, given that the nominee is former Auditor General, Mr S.C. Mayadunne, a public officer of unimpeachable integrity) but rather to a puerile preoccupation with the process of discussions on this question. If the JHU represents this as the official position of the party and continues to hold out giving its approval to the nomination, the party should be exposed for its most obvious bad faith.

There can be no question about this; if the diametrically opposite party membership of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) and the Tamil National Alliance (TNA) are able to agree on the nomination of Mr Mayadunne, the JHU's holding out on a cosmetic insistence on the manner of discussions concerned masks a far more sinister purpose in seeing the continued thwarting of the 17th Amendment to the Constitution. If, as rumour has it, the JHU objections are being pushed by a ministerial stalwart close to the office of the Presidency, then that sinister purpose becomes very clear.

The rule of law in the year ahead

It needs to be said and said very clearly; in as much as the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) has consistently and ruthlessly eschewed any real concern for the Tamil people, the Rajapaksa administration has shown no empathy for the people of majority and minority race in Sri Lanka, leaving aside those ultra nationalists and government propagandists who beat the war drum while comfortably ensconced either overseas or in the capital. Indeed, the administration has shown no respect for constitutional governance in general, so let us forget about empathy for its citizens.

Rather than exhibiting concern at the breakdown of national institutions, the government has indeed, been a key actor in hastening their deterioration. Rather than putting to right, the abysmally poor law enforcement process by safeguarding the police from political interference, the government continues to delight in the exploits of nonentities turned ministers such as Silva and indeed, many other ministerial colleagues who may be possessed of sufficient grey matter not to allow themselves to be televised while engaging in their nefarious activities but who are, indeed, far more dangerous in their links to the underworld and corrupt law enforcement officers.

The death and renewal of hope

Perhaps, in the year ahead, we need to brace ourselves for the situation to get infinitely worse but then slowly inch itself back to a semblance of decent functioning. At that point perhaps, citizens of minority race may be able to think of this country as being their own again without fear, ordinary citizens might be able to think of entering a police station without being harassed and a litigant might enter a courtroom without an equal amount of trepidation. At that point indeed, we may recover the confidence that disputes would be determined at the highest levels of the legal system without political (or personal) bias, the rule of law would be implemented to its fullest and the prosecution of the guilty would take place without fear or favour.

We would expect that the profligate spending, the debauchery and the dissolute lifestyles of those who have declared themselves as our political rulers would minimize, if not come to an end. Schoolchildren would be able to attend sessions of the House without being ushered out of the public gallery in haste by their minders in order to prevent them from hearing the choice language in which our representatives entertain themselves and there would be the ceasing of the tide of mindless corruption and the endless earning of ill gotten gain.

This is, of course, to think far ahead. But as Paulo Coelho ruminated, when struggling not to be overcome by despair at the fate of his own country Brazil, despite the fact that everything contradicts, despite feelings of the most profound sadness and despite being almost convinced that nothing ever will get better, one must return to the comfortingly old reassurance that there is always hope - '..the word that so often rises with us in the morning, gets sorely wounded as the day progresses, dies at nightfall and is reborn with the new day' (Coelho, Like the Flowing River, HarperCollins publishers, 2006). His reflections are appropriate for each and every genuine 'patriot' in this country today.