Editorial

Dining Alone

It must be lonely there, at the top. As she approached the end of her term, Chandrika Kumaratunga would greatly have preferred to have sought a means of continuing in power by amending the constitution. The tsunami has put an end to that: she stands no chance now of securing a two-thirds majority to enact a constitutional amendment that will allow her to do so. With the JVP's desertion the President may be down, but she is certainly not out. She has made no mention of stepping down, failed to clarify whether in her opinion her term ends this year or next (given her second, secret swearing-in), or done anything to identify a successor. The games go on.

Clearly, the President seems determined to engage with the LTTE in the distribution of tsunami relief, even at the expense of her coalition. Despite the olive branches being hinted at on both sides, the rhetoric has been so damning on both sides that brushing it under the carpet will in the near term be difficult. But being savvy in statecraft, Kumaratunga must have an end game in mind. Does she want to proceed with tsunami relief merely because she wishes to build her legacy and simply do the right thing? Or is she hoping to build confidence with the LTTE so as to win their support for her to continue as head of government?

Whatever the President's motives, her immediate next steps are far from clear. She obviously prefers to establish the joint mechanism through a parliamentary regulation than by executive decree. That way, not only will her party be forced to commit to it, but so will the UNP. Smelling a rat, the UNP has cleverly demurred, offering to support the President's executive action instead.

Indeed, that Ranil Wickremesinghe should come to her aid at all is something novel in Sri Lankan politics. The Opposition Leader's gesture, given the shabby treatment he received from Kumaratunga, is not just patriotic, it is magnanimous. It must also send a clear message to the JVP and JHU that there is a difference between representational democracy and mob rule.

When in 2003 Kumaratunga wrested key ministries from Wickremesinghe while the latter was overseas, there was public outrage. Wickremesinghe's motorcade took some six hours to make the 40-minute drive from the airport to Temple Trees, with more than a million people thronging the streets to show their solidarity with him. Such was the public mood that the Prime Minister could easily have taken the mob with him to President's House and threatened Kumaratunga into having his way. Instead, he spoke of democratic and legal process, and conceded the ministries.

The JVP and JHU have clearly not taken a leaf from Wickremesinghe's book. Always able to mobilise a few tens of thousands of its red capped storm troopers, the JVP seems to think mob power can run the country. Lord Buddha would have wept if he witnessed the hysterical and disgraceful conduct of many of the JHU's clerical followers, many of them sporting well groomed hair.

Coming two years after the government-LTTE ceasefire, the timing of the tsunami was indeed fortuitous. It has served to show the deep political and ethnic divisions that exist in our society, and served also to highlight the challenges that need to be addressed by both sides. We often talk of the "peace process," although there is and has not for the past two years been any such process. At the time Wickremesinghe was undermined in 2003, he was contemplating signing up to an interim administration that would allow the LTTE to help coordinate the reconstruction process. That was meant to be a first step, a show of trust, that would help bring the Tigers into the mainstream.

Kumaratunga's joint mechanism falls well short of giving the Tigers legal administrative power, though it is a good thing to remind ourselves that the LTTE has for decades been operating a de facto administration in the north and much of the east. An issue that needs to be addressed in resolving the conflict is how a separate administration could be legalised in Tiger controlled areas, and that is where a federal structure comes in.

When the principle of federalism was first acknowledged in the 2002 Oslo communique, it was received with remarkable equanimity by the Sri Lankan public. There were no street protests, no mobs. How then, does the joint mechanism go beyond federalism? Presumably in that it singles out the Tigers as being the political entity that represents the Tamils. But that, sadly, is the ground reality, as little as we may like it. After a quarter century of war, prosecuted in equal parts by the UNP and SLFP, it has become clear that no military solution to the conflict exists. Just as we did for all that time make war with the LTTE, we have no choice now but to make peace with the LTTE.

The alternative, of course, is a return to war, which seems to be the route that the JVP and JHU prefer, for different reasons. For their part, the JVP has always been better at slaughtering unarmed civilians than donning uniforms and shooting off to the battlefront. And for theirs, the JHU, yellow robes and all, have preferred to play the role of Ayatollahs, sending other mothers' sons off to war, while they sit back and enjoy the dhan‚.

Now, as she has suddenly found that her engines have failed in mid-flight, Kumaratunga has decided to use the state media to embark on a public awareness campaign. Well, she certainly left it a bit late, given that for the past 14 months, all the state media have done is blow Kumaratunga's and the JVP's trumpets, taking time off to berate the UNP. Ironically, in her hour of need, and in the nation's hour of peril, it is that very UNP that has stepped into the breach.

For their part, the JVP might be out, but they are not down. They still have ITN through which to spread their propaganda of hate. For all their patriotic talk, Kumaratunga needs to have the resolve to use all legal measures at her disposal to ensure that they do not embark on a campaign of sabotage. It needs to be remembered that after 14 months in office, the JVP has significantly expanded its network into the government, and a campaign of strikes and other disruptions could result in chaos. They desperately need to show that the government cannot go on without them, and get Kumaratunga into a position where she has no choice but to invite them back. At the same time they are unlikely to precipitate a general election, given that their parliamentary ranks will be halved.

Kumaratunga has also suffered a severe erosion of confidence from her party stalwarts, many of whom have distanced themselves from her. The SLFP today is deeply insecure, with many rankers taking the view that it is alright for Kumaratunga to go out on a limb - after all, she is at the tail end of her innings - but what about the rest of them? Why should their futures be jeopardised because of her?

Finally and most importantly, one hopes that Wickremesinghe this time around will keep the Indians clearly out of his decision making process. It is the Indian High Commission that wined, dined and financed the JVP into becoming what it is because, for all the rhetoric to the contrary, the mission's mission has always been to destabilise Sri Lanka. It was they who consistently urged Wickremesinghe, as premier, not to act politically against Kumaratunga and they who, when Wickremesinghe was evicted from office, were the first to turn up on the Presidential doormat to offer their congratulations. India's role in our affairs should be restricted to tourism and trade, thank you very much.

As for Kumaratunga, she must feel a sense of bereavement, going it alone, but this is the time that will test her mettle. At last she has before her an opportunity to show the world that she has it within her to offer an olive branch to her would-be assassins, the LTTE. One can but hope that she will not falter now, but seek to cap her legacy with a single far-sighted act that could forever change the way in which Sri Lanka heads into the future. And if her guests have left the table, too bad: she must dine alone.