Election Results II

Two more election results, neither of them unexpected or anomalous, happened last week – the arrest of former Army Commander and former Presidential candidate Sarath Fonseka; and the formal entry of Presidential offspring, Namal Rajapakse, into politics, as a candidate for the family borough of Hambantota, in the upcoming parliamentary election. Both were symbolic and symptomatic of the inherent nature of the Rajapakse project characterised by absolute intolerance and family-centrism.

To condemn Gen. Fonseka’s arrest, to insist on a fair trial in a civilian court for him, under the watchful eyes of the country and the world, one does not have to believe that he is a hero or a democrat; I would not apply these epithets to Gen. Fonseka any more than I would them to his former companions, the Rajapakse brothers. When Gen. Fonseka was in power he acted in a manner that was both anti-democratic and intolerant; he also espoused Sinhala supremacism openly, reducing the minorities from co-owners of the country to guests who would be tolerated only if they accepted their unequal status. This past cannot be denied; nor can it be used to justify the persecution he is being subjected to in the present. What is applicable here is the Niemöller principle – if one is silent when others are persecuted (even if the victims happen to be ‘aliens’ or ‘enemies’) one is undermining one’s own democratic future.

“Now he can’t (campaign in the parliamentary polls). The court martial will begin immediately after the assembling of the summary evidence is done. I don’t know how long it will take because that depends on lawyers. But we want to finish it soon, in less than six months maybe. The severity of the charges is very high. He can be put in jail for as long as five years”. Defence Secretary Gotabhaya Rajapakse (Interview with The Straits Times)

The timing and the manner of Sarath Fonseka’s arrest cannot but give rise to serious concerns about the future of Lankan democracy under Rajapakse rule. Mr. Fonseka was arrested just two weeks after the conclusion of the Presidential election and in the run up to a crucial parliamentary election, in which he was expected to contest and campaign.

No more. As Defence Secretary and Presidential sibling Gotabhaya Rajapakse stated, baldly, in his revealing interview with The Strait Times, now he will not be able to take part in the parliamentary election. When a regime arrests a key rival, thereby preventing him from either contesting or campaigning in a crucial parliamentary election, that action cannot but be deemed a politically motivated witch hunt. When the retired General demanded that he, as a civilian be arrested by civil authorities, he was assaulted, handcuffed and dragged away like a common criminal. The message was stark and unmistakable – committing lèse majesté against the Rajapakses is a heinous crime akin to treason.

A Deadly Bargain

If the Rajapakse project is to survive, there has to be new constitution which establishes an executive presidency or an executive prime ministership without term limits. This means that the ruling UPFA has to win a two thirds majority (or something close to it) at the parliamentary election. This desperate need suffices to explain the timing of Mr. Fonseka’s arrest. The Fonseka candidacy achieved what was commonly regarded as impossibility in Lankan politics – an alliance between the UNP and the JVP. Even if the attempts to get the two main opposition parties to contest the parliamentary election under a common symbol failed, Mr. Fonseka, given his acceptability to both the UNP and the JVP, could have acted as a bridge between them. With him around, an electoral strategy which is the equivalent of ‘marching separately and striking together’ could have been possible.

A united opposition is a phenomenon the regime seems intent on preventing, at whatever the cost, as its shrill propaganda clearly indicates. With the timely arrest of Gen. Fonseka, that purpose has been achieved. The overall impact would be a significant weakening of an already weak opposition, rendering it totally incapable of impeding the Rajapakse juggernaut.

Vellupillai Pirapaharan offered Tamils an implicit Mephistophelian bargain – their basic democratic and human rights in return for ‘liberation’ from Sinhala dominance via a separate state. A majority of Tamils accepted, however unhappily, because of the Tigers’ proven capacity to take on the Sinhala state. After the searing and humiliating experiences of the Black July and the First Eelam War, that bargain would have seemed worthwhile to most of them.

The Tamils needed a defender and an avenger and the LTTE, more than any other rival group, fitted the bill. The journey that was premised on that bargain ended on the shores of the Nandikadal lagoon and in the Northern internment camps. By voting for Mahinda Rajapakse in overwhelming numbers, a majority of the Sinhalese too renewed their consent to a similar deal, trading democratic and human rights for a Sinhala supremacist state, a state which keeps the minorities in their place and tells the Western world to mind its own business.

If the Rajapakses win a two thirds majority in the parliamentary election, it will seal that deadly bargain. Democracy will fade away to be replaced by Rajapakse supremacism behind a Sinhala supremacist mantle. By the time the South realises the consequences of the choice they made on January 26th, irreparable damage would have been done not only to Lankan democracy but also to Lankan national interests (the loss of the GSP+ is just the beginning).

Prosecution as Persecution

Sarath Fonseka was arrested not under civil war but under military law. This would enable the regime to try him in a military court, out of the public eye; it will also enable his prosecutors to substitute, in place of solid evidence, the paranoid delusions and apocryphal tales of coups and conspiracies of their political masters. The degree to which the military had been politicised became evident during the Presidential election campaign, when high ranking serving officers in uniform took part in government propaganda – something unprecedented in the history of Sri Lanka. According to the Defence Secretary, in order to refute the charges of retired General Fonseka, “the government had to bring some of the officers on television to defend its position” (Interview with The Straits Times). Gen Fonseka had retired from the military by the time he made these charges; therefore the government should have used retired officers to refute them. Instead the Rajapakses used serving officers in uniform, thereby politicising the military qualitatively more than the Fonseka candidacy did. This ‘response’ too was in keeping with the Rajapakse mode of excessive and disproportionate reactions.

The trial of Gen. Fonseka is likely to be quite similar to the Presidential Commissions of President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga. During the early 1990’s, the SLFP led opposition accused President Premadasa of killing Gen. Denzil Kobbekaduwa and Lalith Athulathmudali. Once elected, President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga appointed special Presidential commissions to investigate these deaths, adding the killing of Vijaya Kumaragunga for good measure. From the beginning, the Commissions assumed the nature of Kangaroo courts. They were staffed with judges and lawyers eager and willing to do the bidding of the appointing authority, the President, who had already stated, publicly and repeatedly, her belief in the guilt of President Premadasa and the UNP (Sarath Silva was one of these supine appointees, who played a major role in the Vijaya Kumaratunga Commission). Witness after witness was found to testify to the most fantastic of tales. In the end, the Commissions, predictably, found President Premadasa and the UNP guilty of all three crimes.

An excellent case in point to the manner in which the Commissions obtained evidence to reach a pre-determined verdict was the attempt made by the powers that be to get Upali Ranjith alias Soththi Upali to give false testimony, according to an article written by Upali’s lawyer:

“One day I got a message to meet Upali at the Remand Prison, Mahara. He told me the Commission had honoured its obligations to his arch rival Chintaka Amarasinghe. Chintaka had made a statement earlier implicating him and Jayamanna (alias Sudu Mahattaya) in the murder of Lalith Athulathmudali…Though there were a number of murder cases pending against him Chinthaka Amarasinghe had been released on bail due to the intervention of certain persons…. The people who allegedly approached Upali had told him that it was they who got Chinthaka released on bail…. ‘I have no reason to disbelieve them and now they have told me they will send my wife and children abroad within a short time. My wife and children would go to Canada or Australia as political refugees. I have only to sign a statement implicating leaders of the UNP with the murder of Lalith Athulathmudali. They told me if I did not believe them I could sign the statement after my wife and children left the country…. I would be a star witness in the Lalith Athulathmudali Commission of Inquiry. Then I would be released on bail, and made a Crown witness. I would be given money and arms for my protection. After the mission was fulfilled I could leave the country and join my family abroad,’ concluded Upali.

…I asked Upali what kind of statement he had to make to get all these benefits. He told me ‘It is very simple Sir. I have to state the day before Lalith Athulathmudali was killed there was a secret meeting at Lake Drive, at the residence of Sirisena Cooray. Ranil Wickremesinghe, Weerasinghe Mallimarachchi and U.L. Seneviratne and some members of the Executive Committee of the UNP with DIG A.S. Seneviratne and other higher- ups of the Police met and discussed the plot to assassinate Lalith Athulathmudali…. I will have to narrate the plot which had been prepared by the persons who wanted me to make these statements…’. ......Upali asked me to give him one reason why he should not make this statement and get all these benefits and leave the country. I had no answer to give. ‘Sir, I come from a poor family. I am not a 'Mahaththaya' like those chaps who would sell their souls for crap.….. Even if I had to die in prison for want of medicine, or if my enemies poison me, or ultimately if I am released on bail some day, and I am killed, I would not be a party to this unpardonable crime…,’ Upali said…

Later he was taken to the Lalith Athulathmudali Commission office to record a statement. In spite of the pleas and threats and warnings of the officials he refused to get down from the prison vehicle. When they tried to force him out he hit himself with the hand cuffs and injured his forehead. He did not want to get down from the bus apparently fearing they would get his signature by force on a document implicating innocent people” (The Sunday Times – 27.12.1998).

The Commission found other witnesses less unwilling to lie in return form favours promised and rendered (Kelum Rohini, who became the star witness of the Athulathmudali Commission is a prime example). The Rajapakse regime may follow the same route, with equally rewarding results. With the judicious use of the carrot and stick method, there may be no dearth of witnesses willing to testify whatever they are told to testify. In such a context, the conviction of Gen. Fonseka is a foregone conclusion. A dangerous rival will thus be removed from the political arena. And the entire country would know the cost of opposing the Rajapakses’ sovereign right to rule over Sri Lanka.

- Asian Tribune -