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Questioning the
President's Sanity
OVER the years, we have taken Chandrika Kumaratunga's
bizarre utterances cum grano salis - with a grain of salt. When in 1994
she claimed that an unnamed businessman had offered her a bribe of Rs.
50 million to perform an unspecified favour, the nation passed it off
with a knowing nod and a wink. Here was a newly elected leader anxious
to show that corruption had been rife in the regime she replaced, and a
little hyperbole was only to be expected.
But things got steadily worse, and Kumaratunga took
brazenly to lying and fantasising, going well outside the latitude
allowed even to politicians who have gone off the rails; so much so that
few take her seriously any more. But there is a dark and sinister side
to this. The president has acquired a fixation with death, a paranoia
that goes beyond that entertained by normal politicians for their
rivals. This began after the dastardly attack on her by the LTTE in
December 1999, in which she lost an eye. Kumaratunga has told how, when
she was recuperating from that attack in London, she came to know of a
plot hatched by one of her own ministers to murder two newspaper
editors. According to the president, immediately she came to know of the
plot, she asked her daughter to call up the errant minister and warn him
that should he carry out his plan, she would march him to the gallows.
But things got worse. In a later speech, Kumaratunga
claimed that Minister S.B. Dissanayake had come to her with an
outrageous proposal to "Kill an editor or two," so as to
secure a parliamentary majority. Fortunately for the editors and much to
Kumaratunga's credit, she had replied that this extreme step would be
unnecessary given that she had a parliamentary majority of 24. According
to Dissanayake, who has strenuously denied the allegation, this is pure
fantasy on the part of the president. Then, in the run up to last year's
general election came her articulation of the Tissamaharama doctrine.
"For seven years we have been like saints," she told her
party's faithful, mimicking Mother Theresa. "But this time, if they
kill one of ours, we will kill the murderer." In recent months
however, things have got worse, with Kumaratunga delving deep into
fantasy so as to demand sympathy. So much so that her Spokesman, Harim
Peiris, has a full-time job trailing her and issuing denials even as
Kumaratunga's actual statements are being repeatedly aired by the
television stations. Poor Peiris; few would believe him now were he to
tell them the time of day.
In recent months, Kumaratunga has got it into her head
that the government is planning to kill her. She has spoken of Prime
Minister Ranil Wickremesinghe being only one bullet away from the
presidency. Of being accused of bringing a bomb in her handbag into the
cabinet room. Of taking 500 with her should the government try to kill
her.
But things have not stopped there. Her speech in
Anuradhapura last Sunday, when she accused Prime Minister Wickremesinghe
of not admitting her son Vimukthi to Royal College because she did not
pay a bribe of Rs 25,000, took the nation by storm. For one thing, the
alleged incident took place some 15 years ago, and it is amazing that
Kumaratunga waited until now to speak of it, let alone make an official
complaint. After all, she has had ample opportunity to do so: more than
10 election campaigns. We will not go into the merits of her argument
here; we leave that to the public's judgement. We choose to dwell
instead on a far more serious aspect of the string of bizarre actions of
the president, including her cheap and ridiculous mimicking of Finance
Minister Choksy's facial expressions.
Could it be that the president's brain is addled? That
she is non compos mentis? We do not mention this lightly, or in jest. We
might refer to someone mildly eccentric as being loony, crazy, loopy,
batty or nuts. Our worry is not that the president is any one of these:
we worry that she is certifiably insane. We express this concern in all
seriousness, given the string of utterances made by Kumaratunga over the
past several years, especially in recent months, which are suggestive of
someone suffering from a severe psychological sickness. It is not for us
to diagnose this, or attempt to treat it. That is something her family
should address as a matter of urgency. Lunacy, after all, is rather like
bad breath: not even your best friend will tell you you're potty.
To have an executive president who has gone crackers is
not an issue for mirth. She could do enormous harm to the country,
especially given her title as commander-in-chief of the armed forces.
While article 38(2) of the constitution has specific provision for
removing a president should he be found "permanently incapable of
discharging the functions of his office by reason of mental or physical
infirmity," the process for doing so is prolix in the extreme.
Sri Lanka today has a crisis on its hands. The
president's outrageous utterances are bringing the entire country into
disrepute. Nothing could more effectively sabotage Wickremesinghe's
endeavour to give Sri Lanka a professional and businesslike image on the
world's stage. What is more, there is credible evidence that the
president is certifiably infirm of mind. This is a wholly unacceptable,
if not outright dangerous, state of affairs, as a wacky president could
wreck not only the peace process, but the very administration of
government.
Already, her actions with regard to the
service-extensions of the army and navy commanders have attracted the
public's ire. Her decision to overrule the University Grants
Commission's recommendations with regard to the appointment of
vice-chancellors is equally startling. It is imperative that the
government takes action to contain this situation before she does
serious damage. A constitutional amendment is urgently necessary to lay
down a procedure for establishing the sanity or otherwise not just of
the president, but of any senior public official. There should be
provision for a panel of expert psychiatrists to evaluate the fitness of
officials to carry out his or her duties when a reference is made by
studying their conduct, statements, demeanor and recommend swift removal
from office should her or she be found to have bats in the belfry.
The case for Kumaratunga's insanity is made graver still
by her family history. Her father's two sisters were said to have been
insane and well known to be so. Could it be that some evil gene lurks in
her blood? Could it be that this pathetic disease has been aggravated by
the trauma she suffered in the attempt on her life? Could it indeed be
that her brain was damaged? These are sensitive questions, we grant, but
they are questions, considering the president's bizzare conduct, that
must be asked in the public interest.
If she were indeed the victim of some unfortunate
psychiatric complaint, Kumaratunga would be more pitied than censured.
It is time to take a long, hard look at the president's mental
condition, and decide dispassionately whether she is a danger to the
state. If so, she should gently and humanely be removed from her job,
and in keeping with the dignity of the office she holds, cared for in
some suitable institution. Kumaratunga's outrageous conduct also brings
into question the government's ideal of cohabitation with the president.
We venture to ask, if Ranil Wickremesinghe or any other minister still
thinks they can cohabit with her, is it not they who ought to have their
heads examined?
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