STATE OF THE NATION
LOST SUIT: STABILITY TRUMPS LEGITIMACY
Wijith DeChickera regrets that realpolitik rules the roost such that constitutional reforms don’t reflect the aspirations of a struggling people
If there’s one thing the Sri Lankan polity looked in danger of forgetting recently, it’s that people in the street – literally enough – are sovereign over their elected representatives. The sense that lessons to be learned by the beleaguered political culture, which has prevailed for too long, are being lost lingers of late…
For one thing, despite sustained insistence by the aragalaya (the iconic ‘struggle’) that the system desperately needs to be changed, those entrenched in power seem determined to stay on to the end of their terms… although it’s evident the overwhelming mandate they once received was squandered – and a fresh testing of the people’s will is now imperative.
For another, despite repeated calls – often from the floor of the very legislative assembly under siege as well as other discerning quarters of civil society such as the bar – that the popular clarions (#GotaGoHome, ‘All 226 must go!’ etc.) be reflected by parliamentary discourse, government and opposition ranks across party and personage spectrums were more occupied with their political survival – and the preservation of their perks and privileges.
To add injury to the insult of a politically discredited president who was exposed as being a far cry from the supposed ‘technocrat’ who’d be the nation’s Singapore-style ‘messiah’ – there was not only a personal plea that he be allowed to ride out his term in office but also constitutional reforms being mooted such that our ‘perfectly flawed’ executive system be somehow retained.
To be fair by the political opposition, there’s a remnant of legislators who’re now (or so it seems) – more than ever – convinced of the dangers posed by an all-powerful chief executive being a virtual monarch of all he surveys, to the detriment of democracy and the national interest.
It remains to be seen though – when the crafty constitutional wrangling and customary horse trading ends – whether the same lot of cynical, undiscerning lawmakers who voted for successive constitutional amendments (that were antithetical in their ethos, to boot!) will have the courage of their convictions… or a singular lack thereof.
Be that as it may, a pressing concern in the month or so under review was whether parliamentary moves to craft constitutional reforms to the executive system would cave in to political pressure and succumb to party and personal ambitions.
At the time of writing, the ball of constitutional reform – perhaps misleadingly uniformly titled ‘21st Amendment to the Constitution’ (21A) – was being juggled between its original avatar as presented by the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB) in its role as a political opposition keen to return to the roots of the 19th Amendment (19A ‘plus’); and its incarnation as an adaptation of 19A that sought to retain some of the president’s powers (19A ‘minus’).
While the latter argues that retaining the president’s constitutional mandate under the aegis of 1978’s Second Republican Constitution would militate in favour of national security – the commander in chief would be able to retain the defence minister’s portfolio, for instance – the former seeks to strip the executive’s ability to unreasonably arrogate ministries and subjects to himself.
In addition, it desires (based on recent national misadventures, no doubt) to return to 19A’s salutary ethic of checks and balances, whereby a political culture that is transparent, accountable and cooperative drives the polity – rather than a one man show as in recent years… one that resulted in serious ‘mistakes’ (the president’s admission to poor policy decisions stands testimony to that), which have led the country to its present predicament.
Although a single individual being blamed cannot exonerate the electorate that voted for a national saviour in what transpired to be unrealistic hopes of rapid development and peace with justice under a ‘securocracy’ that guaranteed the defence of the realm, the polity must now caution itself against ever again investing such trust in pseudo-political personages who brought nothing much more than a klutzy iron fist to the table, let alone ‘seven brain cells.’
Equally important if not urgent is testing the will of the republic at large through the exercise of its democratic franchise. Although it has been argued that Sri Lanka can ill afford an election at this juncture of its penury, the reality is that it postpones giving a new set of governors a fresh mandate at greater peril to national prospects. A hunger for justice must not trump the ability to feed or service the nation and its suffering citizens.
On the one hand, the requisite funding for this valuable electoral exercise could be solicited through aid or grants from friendly nations interested in restoring lost confidence in democracy. On the other, recalibration of the political firmament that eliminates the need for an interim administration possessing stability but lacking legitimacy in the eyes of an embattled people could be avoided if we bite the bullet and go to the polls sooner than later.
While sovereign bankruptcy necessitates we play ball with the IMF – and other socioeconomic and geopolitical stakeholders – by presenting a united front through political stability, it must not come at the cost of citizen endorsed legitimacy…
As is the case when realpolitik is pursued by a president few want or a prime minister no one else elected.
