Consensual politics: Hold the applause
Mahinda Rajapaksa won a hotly contested and in many ways landmark
election. Mahinda Rajapaksa distributed a manifesto and he received a
mandate. Any subsequent agreement should either conform to this mandate
or at least be placed for public scrutiny at the point of draft. That
would be the democratic and decent way of doing things. The same holds
for the UNP. Ranil Wickremesinghe also had a manifesto. Just under half
the voting population endorsed it. He has a responsibility to these
people. If he has changed his ideological position, and he has every
right to do so, the least he can do is to come out and say, ‘I was
wrong, you know’.
By Malinda Seneviratne
 Politics,
they say, is the art of the possible. In the crudest sense, this refers
to the possibility of finding a way to get one’s hands into the State
kitty, getting a piece of the pie. Politics, however, is not only about
politicians, their ambitions and acquisitive tendencies. It is also
about statecraft at a higher elevation. It is about good or at least
better governance.
Ranil Wickremesinghe put it well when referring to proposed talks
between his party and the JVP. He said that there are obviously areas
where there were serious disagreements but that programmatic agreement
is possible on other issues such as correcting the flaws of the 17th
Amendment. This is statesmanship. Forming alliances and crossing over to
secure Cabinet posts is nothing more than politics-as-usual.
In 2001, when G.L. Peiris and others crossed over to the UNP and
Chandrika was saddled with a minority government, the JVP stepped in
(although for only a short time) with a parivasa proposal. This was also
when that party managed to persuade both major parties to legislate for
independent commissions, thereby securing some (inadequate of course)
insulation for the people from the politicians. That was “the art of the
possible”. That was about institutional reform, about programmatic
imperatives and not about parochial political gain (which is what all
but a few of the preceding 16 amendments were about).
I am referring here to a higher order of politics and not the usual
machinations prompted by the profit motive. And it is in this context
that the proposed SLFP-UNP tie-up has to be discussed.
What started as discussions on hammering out principles for consensual
engagement has quickly slipped to speculation about portfolios. One can
argue that a sharing of cabinet posts is necessary to cement a viable
programme of action, but then again we are talking here about
politicians and political parties with histories. A mere coming together
is woefully inadequate even though it constitutes hope for a country
that has had little to celebrate and has suffered much because these two
parties were more interested in quarreling than governing. This is why
it can be argued that if a mechanism of streamlining cohabitation and
enforcing the implementation of an agreed programme does not exist then
what we have would be eye-wash.
The evidence, when soberly viewed after the applause has died down, is
not encouraging. The (unofficial) wording with respect to the 17th
Amendment is limited to getting the Constitutional Council appointed.
The flaws of the 17th Amendment are not limited to this and G.L. Peiris
is not ignorant of this fact. Even a cursory perusal of constitutions
which refer to independent institutions (all available on the internet)
would teach Peiris and other co-habitation/consensual gurus the chasm
that exists between what they propose and what really works.
There are other disturbing facts. It is conveniently forgotten that
Mahinda Rajapaksa won a hotly contested and in many ways landmark
election. It was dubbed ‘Unitary vs Federal’. It was about how to deal
with the LTTE and more importantly how not to deal with the LTTE.
Mahinda Rajapaksa distributed a manifesto and he received a mandate. Any
subsequent agreement should either conform to this mandate or at least
be placed for public scrutiny at the point of draft. That would be the
democratic and decent way of doing things. If he gets the UNP to
subscribe to Mahinda Chinthana or at least its key elements, everyone
ought to applaud him for deft and effective political footwork. If not,
he will leave more than a bad taste in the mouths of many, not to
mention severely compromising the values of gratitude.
The same holds for the UNP. Ranil Wickremesinghe also had a manifesto.
Just under half the voting population endorsed it. He has a
responsibility to these people. If he has changed his ideological
position, and he has every right to do so, the least he can do is to
come out and say, ‘I was wrong, you know’.
Even if it is a give-and-take matter, this draft agreement should be
made public immediately. Our country has had enough back-door deals,
enough secret pacts, all of which have been disastrous and detrimental
to the larger interests of the country. Such deals are undemocratic in
spirit and tend towards alienating people from process.
The challenge is not one of the SLFP and UNP figuring out the modalities
of co-habitation but finding ways in which the people can meaningfully
inhabit that large (and scandal-ridden) mansion called ‘governance’.
Talks between the SLFP and UNP were accompanied by talks about talks
between the JVP and UNP and talks about talks between the government and
the LTTE. The foreign intermediaries seem to have impressed on the
government and LTTE to talk under a banner called ‘unconditional’. If
this is just being politically pragmatic, fine. The truth of the matter
is that there are never unconditional talks. Events have proved that the
LTTE’s image is many times larger than its reality and the Ven.
Katharagama Sirirathana, the Chief (and sole) incumbent of the Magul
Maha Vihara was right when he said ‘kotiyek nemei poos petiyek’ (not a
tiger but a kitten). If this turns out to be yet another
bailing-out-the-terrorist exercise then it is best that Mahinda
officially and in public dumps his ‘chinthanaya’ into the dustbin and
introduce legislation worded ‘manifestoes mean nothing, mandates are
open to tampering’.
These are not isolated concerns. A few days ago there was a sizable
demonstration led by JVP affiliates. The slogans reiterated the JVP’s
criticism of the Co-Chairs and in particular the perceived duplicity of
the Norwegian facilitators.
Among the slogans was a resounding no to hora givisum (secret pacts). It
reminded me of the 13th Amendment. Today no one says that the 13th
Amendment divides/divided the country. The worst criticism is that
provincial councils are white elephants. Nevertheless, we must not
forget that when that document became law, vast sections rose up against
it. Coupled with a general erosion of democratic institutions, the
ratification of the 13th Amendment saw an unprecedented blood-letting.
The period was, appropriately, dubbed ‘bheeshanaya’ (The Terror).
The problem did not reside in the Amendment itself. It was a product of
the way it came, the way it was passed and implemented. The common
perception was ‘it was thrust down our throats’. The process violated
all accepted norms of democracy. Whether or not the JVP of the time
abused the misgivings prevalent in society, there is no argument that
the country suffered enormously.
The government, with the support of the UNP and the minority parties,
can arguably get any ‘solution’ passed. They have (or will have) the
numbers. They have control over the coercive apparatus of the state to
make it stick. The government and the sections of the international
community so invested in peace would do well to recall that so did the
J.R.Jayewardena regime. Jayewardene had a five-sixths majority in
parliament. The blood still flowed.
The lesson is that it is not enough for legislation to be logical in
terms of the public good it yields but the process itself has adhere to
the principle ‘of the people, for the people and with the people’.
All this brings us back to the 17th Amendment, its flaws and a marked
hesitancy in addressing the same on the part of the law-makers.
Politics is the art of the possible. All things considered it is safe to
say that our parliamentary worthies and the parties they represent have
subscribed only to the crudest interpretation of this neat saying.
They may come a time to applaud. I don’t think it is now. |
