Politics & People
Mangoes and Olive Branches
by Dr.Rajiva Wijesingha
President Mahinda Rajapaksa
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Chandrika Kumaratunga
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Anura Bandaranaike
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Mangala Samaraweera
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POLITICS: A few months back I decided to abstain from politics
in my newspaper columns. One reason was that things seemed very
complicated and I thought it is best to study what was happening more
carefully before reaching any conclusions.
Another was that I was engaged in producing for publication a couple
of books on Sri Lankan politics, which fairly well took up the side of
my head reserved for such subjects.
Besides, in finalising those books I felt that politics had reached a
sort of breathing space, a plateau at which developments would be along
predictable lines, as they had been after President Kumaratunga had been
elected for her first term.
My last two historical accounts of Sri Lankan politics had been
published during such periods, which provided full stops or at least
semi-colons to the periods of turmoil that had preceded them.
The Process of Consolidation
In President Rajapaksa’s case, as with President Premadasa for
different reasons, the plateau was harder to reach. In that case it had
been because of the continuing JVP insurrection, this time it was
because of the turmoil that continued and indeed increased immediately
after the November 2005 election.
I refer to the tremendous Tiger provocation of December 2005 when so
many sailors were killed, and the drawing rooms of Colombo, bitter about
the result of the election, insisted that open war would soon start and
the world at large would hold the government responsible.
The Government however was not to be wrong footed. They refused to be
provoked and gradually the world began to realise that, while the Tamil
cause required attention and sympathy, the Tigers were indeed terrorists
who had to be restrained.
Conversely, the Government did not fall into the trap of submitting
tamely to all provocation, and made it clear that attacks would be
countered forcefully.
The result was that, though there were setbacks such as at Muhumalai,
which illustrated the need for more careful planning, it was clear by
the end of 2006 that the advantages the Tigers had gained during the
initial period of the Ceasefire had been neutralised.
And, impressively, the Government achieved this without leaving room
for complaints of violence against civilians.
Allegations of atrocities could be countered with evidence of what
had really happened, as with the orphanage that turned out to be a
training camp, or the school from which mortars were launched.
Conversely Tiger terrorism, against civilians, against soldiers on
leave, against the Army Commander and the Secretary of Defence, made
clear their total disregard for the Ceasefire.
In such a context, the authority of the President steadily increased,
while elements in the opposition began to recognise, and to voice, the
need to support him in particular areas in the national interest.
Whether because of such elements, or international pressure, the
Leader of the Opposition responded positively to the President’s
overtures and a Memorandum of Understanding was signed that seemed to
signify progress by consensus during the foreseeable future.
And though there was criticism of this from the JVP, they along with
the JHU seemed to confirm basic support for the Government. In short,
while there was bound to be argument over any major constitutional or
policy changes, it seemed that Presidential authority was widely
accepted, with his political opponents having only to react for at least
a year or two, rather than make any running themselves.
All that has changed drastically in the last month. The crossover to
the Government of 18 UNP MPs, including almost all who combine proven
leadership qualities with national stature, seemed immeasurably to
strengthen the President’s hand while destroying the consensus that was
supposed to have been so promisingly formed.
However, the aggressive opposition of the JVP signified that the
Government would have to face active opposition on two fronts which,
given the vagaries of Sri Lankan politics, could even combine for
negative reasons, whatever their policy differences.
This was then followed by forceful expressions of dissent from within
the Government party, which culminated in the dismissal of three
Ministers including two of the most senior members of the Cabinet.
The fact that one of these could be reabsorbed into the Cabinet is
really neither here nor there, since it does not detract from what might
be termed an underlying structural problem.
I hope to look into the first two of these elements in the weeks to
come, the crisis in the UNP as well as the response of the JVP to the
accession of so many different interests, the SLMC as well as the
reformists in the UNP, to the government.
This week however, I will concentrate on the latest development, the
trauma within the SLFP, since this could in the short-term prove the
most disruptive threat to the Government.
In commenting on these developments, I will try to adopt a different
approach to that of the many political columns that provide such
fascinating reading in different papers. Some, which provide detailed
accounts of political developments in a particular week, are basically
news reports.
Though they comment as well, from different angles, they do not
really function as analysis, and certainly they tend not to provide
detailed arguments for their conclusions. Other columns, which present
interesting points of view, are not usually news analyses, but incline
more to being features, based on underlying principles rather than
review of current developments.
There are of course exceptions to these, but the title of this column
I hope suggests a special feature I would like to dwell on, which is the
importance of people in our political process.
Initially I had hoped to use the title ‘Politics, policies and
people’, but I realised that that made little sense in a context in
which policies rarely govern perceptions, actions or reactions. The JVP
may be an exception to this rule, but I would argue indeed that it is an
exception that proves the rule, as its history has shown.
My analysis will, I should make clear, be based on history as well as
current developments, for I have no doubt that understanding of the past
is a key to studying the present.
I will also look at developments in other countries because, whether
we like it or not, we are all prey to general historical forces. To
pretend we are unique, and cannot learn from others is a sure way to
fall into traps that could be avoided.
Three Mango Musketeers
All this is by way of preamble to arguing that, to understand the
current crisis in the SLFP, we need to look at the characters of three
individuals. I mean the two Cabinet Ministers and, not Mr.
Sooriyarachchi, whose past record does not really provide much evidence
except in terms of the others involved, but rather President
Kumaratunga.
Of the three, I am saddest about Mr. Samaraweera, because his record
in office suggests an extremely capable Minister, able to take decisions
quickly and ensure that they are implemented efficiently.
I hope that in his case reconciliation is possible, because he still
has much to offer the country - and he also has a capacity to work
together with people of different points of view, which should make him
a useful ally for the President when he moves on to the structural
reforms that must accompany the vision he expressed in his manifesto.
This is not true of Mr. Bandaranaike, delightful companion though he
may be on convivial occasions. Indeed in any other country, except one
in which a Cabinet can expand indefinitely, he would have been retired
long ago, with full honours. He could then have made an excellent
ambassador in a country like France, or even Cuba, which appreciates his
strengths.
But he would be the first to admit that he has really done very
little of benefit to the country in any of the Ministries he has held,
Higher Education or Foreign Affairs or Tourism.
What he did instead was travel, which is why indeed one has to
acknowledge the kindness of the President in giving him Tourism in 2005.
He had after all made it very clear, being a direct sort, that he would
have preferred Mr Rajapaksa not to win the 2005 Presidential Election.
It was bizarre then to have thought even for a moment that he might
be appointed Prime Minister, and almost as bizarre to think he could
have been made Foreign Minister in a context in which quick action was
needed to ensure that we continued to receive high level international
support.
But in giving him instead the portfolio which provided the greatest
pretext for overseas travel, the President was I believe extending an
olive branch that a more sensitive man would have grasped with
appreciation.
Sadly, the Bandaranaikes were not able to recognise and respond to
such gestures. Given what happened during the Presidential election,
when the brother quite openly, and the sister much more tactfully,
indicated that they were not on Mr Rajapaksa’s side, the latter must
have been furious.
However, in his acceptance speech, having remembered Mr S W R D
Bandaranaike and Mrs Sirimavo Bandaranaike as the original stalwarts of
his party, the new President made it a point to also mention Mrs
Kumaratunga. Watching that speech I had the impression that the words
stuck in his throat, but he made an effort and brought them out with as
much grace as he could muster.
In a better world, that should have been a reason for reconciliation,
and Mrs Kumaratunga would have retired gracefully, and her services
could well have been used in a context she and the new President would
both have wanted.
But, sadly, President Kumaratunga found herself unable to forgive,
though I suspect that, had she tried to articulate what she could not
forgive, she would have found it difficult to specify.
After all, the only grouse she could logically have had was that of
having lost a year of her term, but for that she had only herself to
blame.
Even if the original oath was understandable, in the context of the
horrifying attack she had just escaped, she and her advisers should
surely have sought clarification once a doubt had been raised.
That happened in 2000 itself, but she did nothing to clarify the
position until after Mr Wickremesinghe had raised a hornets’ nest - and
once an ambiguity had been suggested, it was understandable that almost
everyone else wanted the matter resolved as soon as possible.
But bitterness can be pervasive, especially if one thinks one has
nothing to lose by it. So Mrs Kumaratunga refused to see her successor
when he tried to meet her in London, and back in Sri Lanka she even gave
an interview in which she attacked him harshly.
Unfortunately all this reflected badly on Mr Samaraweera who had been
determined to maintain good relations with her, despite her initial
anger with him as well for having contributed so much to the Rajapaksa
Presidential campaign.
Of course it is conceivable that Mr Samaraweera was as keen as Mrs
Kumaratunga to embarrass President Rajapaksa. Certainly there would have
been many to insinuate as much to the President.
But given his general political savvy, as well as the fact that he
has a long political future ahead of him, I find it difficult to believe
that Mr Samaraweera would have been happy with the strange bedfellows
Mrs Kumaratunga was willing to tolerate in her own more negative
enterprise.
And it is such bedfellows, as opposed to disagreements over policy or
personalities, that would have struck the President as potentially
dangerous.
What was strange then was how far out on a limb Mr Samaraweera was
willing to go with his friends, to the extent even of refusing to take
the President’s many calls to him. Of course there are those who would
argue that the President’s attempts to make contact, the many olive
branches he extended as differences arose, were all hypocritical.
But the simple fact is that none of these gestures were necessary if
he did not at least hope they might help to bridge the gap. The
implication then is that he was sincere, and would have preferred to
defuse the crisis amicably.
The metaphor of the mango that was used to describe Mr Samaraweera’s
associates, a new sort of ginger group within the SLFP, was ironic,
given his earlier relations with the two Bandaranaike siblings and the
transitory nature of once close friendships.
I hope therefore that he responds actively to the olive branch, the
symbol of reconciliation between different points of view, and does not
allow himself to be overwhelmed by the emotional appeals of Mango
friends. |