Senior Ministers :
An opportunity for a new path of governance
By Prof. Rajiva WIJESINGHE
Thirty
years ago, Chanaka Amaratunga proposed the establishment of a Council
for Liberal Democracy (CLD). I was not enthused by the idea, because it
struck me as yet another stratagem of President J. R. Jayewardene, in
his cynical destruction of liberalism as well as democracy.
Chanaka was in those days a devoted member of the United National
Party, and he told me that the President had encouraged the setting up
of the CLD. His view was that Jayewardene was a liberal democrat at
heart, but this was not true of all members of his government; the CLD
would be an instrument to encourage liberal thinking which would assist
Jayewardene to overcome contrary views.
I had the previous year seen the enormity of his viciousness, when he
stripped Mrs. Bandaranaike of her Civic Rights. I had also noted his
ruthless tinkering with his own Constitution, as when most recently he
had tried to have a second member for the Kalawana seat.
Forgotten
That story will bear retelling, for I realised recently, listening to
the Opposition in Parliament, old warhorses from the 1977 Parliament
such as Ranil Wickremesinghe and John Amaratunga inveighing against the
appointment of Senior Ministers, how much even of recent history has
been forgotten. And it is also possible that I misjudged J R
Jayewardene, in that it was precisely 30 years ago, about the time that
Chanaka mooted the idea of a Council for Liberal Democracy, that
Jayewardene retreated from a nasty initiative, for the only time in his
period of power.
On January 15th 1981, Abeyratne Pilapitiya resigned as the Member of
Parliament for Kalawana . He held that seat not because he had been
elected in 1977, but because he had been nominated to fill the vacancy
caused by his losing the seat after he was absent from Parliament
without leave for three months. He had absented himself deliberately,
since he was about to be disqualified by the Courts after the hearing of
an election petition.
This was one of the million petty stratagems that the Jayewardene
government, with the unquestioning support of its vast majority in
Parliament, used to affirm its absolute authority. The original Mr
Pilapitiya was disqualified, and a bye-election had been held in terms
of Article 161 (b) (i) of the Constitution (with Sarath Muttetuwegama of
the Communist Party being duly returned as a Member of Parliament).
However the second Mr Pilapitiya remained in Parliament, since he had
been nominated to fill a vacancy under Article 161 (d) (iiii) of the
Constitution. This second Pilapitiya felt, with the support of the
entire government, that he was totally different from the first
Pilapitiya. The Pilapitiya nominated to fill the vacancy had not been
disqualified, and therefore he was entitled to stay on.
Not even the Jayewardene government thought it possible to claim that
no bye-election should have been held, on the grounds that the
disqualified Mr Pilapitiya no longer existed, and therefore did not need
to be replaced. Instead it hit on the happy remedy of proposing that
there should be two members for Kalawana, one to be elected as a
replacement for the original Pilapitiya, the other the reincarnated
Pilapitiya who had been nominated to the vacancy. This required a
Constitutional Amendment, the Third proposed by the Jayewardene
government, to allow Kalawana to have two Members.
The Supreme Court had subverted the jurisdiction of the Court of
Appeal by permitting the First Amendment to the Constitution, and had
facilitated crossovers to government but not from government through the
Second Amendment. But by 1981 even the handpicked Chief Justice, Neville
Samarakoon, who had been Jayewardene’s personal lawyer, had begun to
feel that enough was enough, a trajectory that led to him being brought
before the Bar of Parliament a few years later.
The Court ruled, not that the proposed Third Amendment was abject
nonsense, which I suppose Courts are too proper to say, but that it
required not just a two-thirds majority in Parliament, but also a
Referendum, since it affected the franchise. Since this would have been
a truly preposterous measure to propose for Sri Lanka’s first Referendum
(that honour was reserved for the Amendment that extended the life of
the 1977 Parliament for six years), Jayewardene found himself in a
dilemma.
He was saved by the then Secretary General of Parliament, who had not
been consulted when the then Speaker created the Second Mr Pilapitiya.
Finally called on to advise, a procedure the Jayewardene government had
avoided given his understanding of Parliamentary practice, he suggested
Mr Pilapitiya resign. He was reminded that would result in a vacancy,
and that ‘the Secretary-General of Parliament shall forthwith inform the
Commissioner of Elections of such vacancy’, whereupon there would have
to be yet another nomination. His response was that, in reading that
section of the Constitution, the stress should be not on ‘shall’, but on
the word ‘vacancy’. His view was that, if the Second Mr Pilapitiya took
himself away, there would be no hole created, since he was in any case a
figment of the Speaker’s imagination.
Jayewardene wondered what would happen if that view were to be
challenged in the Courts. The answer was that was a risk worth running,
the Secretary-General’s only stipulation being that he should defend
himself in the Courts, with the Attorney-General’s Department not being
allowed anywhere near.
Daring
Jayewardene thereupon accepted defeat with good grace. I gather this
had happened previously too, as when he was thwarted in his attempt to
have Mrs Bandaranaike condemned by a Select Committee of Parliament for
bribery. But, after he became President, with few people daring to
oppose him, he grew more and more autocratic. Possibly, had Chanaka set
up the Council in January 1981 as an independent entity, but with
Jayewardene’s backing, he might have heard dissent with sympathy,
understanding that it was for his own good - but that alas was not to
be.
So we went on with the dance of death that was his legacy: the
District Development Council elections of 1981 with the burning of the
Jaffna Public Library, the subsequent Third Amendment that abolished the
fixed term Presidency the Constitution had initially enjoined, the
Fourth Amendment to put off elections, the Fifth Amendment that
introduced selective bye-elections, the Sixth Amendment that, if
arguably reasonable in another context, had the effect of driving the
TULF from Parliament and handing over the Tamil cause to militants.
And in all this he had the support of over 140 members of a 168
member Parliament (far fewer when the TULF was away, from 1983 to 1989),
with well over 100 of them Ministers. There were Ministers in the
Cabinet, and Ministers not in the Cabinet, and Deputy Ministers, and
Project Ministers and District Ministers. They were appointed under
Sections 44 and 45 and 46 of the Constitution, though the terms Project
Ministers and District Ministers do not occur in the Constitution. The
latter received legal substantiation with the Development Councils Act
of September 1980, but they had in fact been first appointed two years
before, in October 1978.
Crossing over
What prompted this proliferation of entities? It was not the reason
that has often been advanced since then for increases in the size of
subsequent Cabinets, namely that Members of Parliament have to be kept
happy, otherwise they will cross over to the Opposition and bring down
the government. After all no one then would have dreamed of crossing
over to the Opposition, given the draconian penalty for losing
membership of the party to which one belonged, namely expulsion from
Parliament, which in those days it would have been unthinkable to
challenge in Court. That penalty had been specified in the Transitional
Provisions, even though the theory behind it, namely that one had been
elected on behalf of a party, not as an individual, applied only to the
Proportional Representation system that was envisaged for the future.
Stratagem
There is another reason too why Jayewardene need not have feared
Members of Parliament from his side crossing over to the Opposition. The
stratagem of engineering such crossovers is essentially a UNP device,
not one readily available to the SLFP when in Opposition, when it would
not have the financial resources the UNP is able to command at any time.
Whilst it is generally accepted that at least one of those who left the
SLFP and brought down the Government in 1964 was motivated by ideals, it
is also well known that financial incentives were involved in other
cases. This phenomenon recurred in 2001, but it is not something the
SLFP could have dreamt of achieving during the Jayewardene years.
Jayewardene did give Ministries to a few Opposition members who
joined the government, but this was exceptional. I believe it was only
Mr Thondaman and Mr. Rajadurai who were so dignified, while nothing of
the sort was deemed necessary for Mr. Canagaratnam, who also I believe
left the TULF for the UNP, and was shot for his pains by the LTTE. He
survived that attack, but remained a sick man, like Mr. Sivasithamparam
a decade later. When he died, he was replaced by his sister.
No Ministry was given too to Mr. Samaranayake, the 2nd MP for
Beruwela, who crossed over from the SLFP, nor to Mr. Wijesiri, the 2nd
MP for Harispattuwa, who was an Independent who joined the SLFP, and
subsequently moved over to the UNP. Interestingly enough, the three TULF
MPs mentioned above also belonged to multi-member constituencies. Two of
them, in addition to the two Sinhala MPs noted here, shared their
constituencies with Muslim MPs, all of whom belonged originally too to
the UNP. This suggests that a return to single constituencies, but with
provision for multi-member constituencies in areas of significant ethnic
mix, will serve the minorities well in terms of representation, in
particular if they join the main parties in reasonable numbers. The
manner in which Jayewardene swept them all up will have to be kept in
mind however, and provision made to prevent this recurring.
But my point here is, why did Jayewardene, with no need to bribe his
MPs to stay with him, with no need to provide Ministries as a matter of
course to MPs who joined him, create so many Ministers? The consequence,
especially given his vast majority in Parliament, was that, with the
exception of a few Opposition figures, there was hardly anyone whose
primary responsibility was legislative. The business of Parliament then
was essentially in the hands of Ministers, whose principal
responsibility was to their executive functions. Such a situation went
completely against the grain of Jayewardene’s initial conception of the
Executive Presidency he introduced.
His hagiographer, A J Wilson, who subsequently turned against the Sri
Lankan state with venom, even though he continued at times to be
sentimental about his old benefactor, claimed that Jayewardene had a
mandate for the change, in that he had once claimed that a Presidency on
the American model was desirable for development. Wilson’s superficial
book, ‘The Gaullist Constitution of Sri Lanka’, which was in great vogue
in the early 80s in Sri Lanka, did not however at all examine why
Jayewardene had ignored a most important aspect of such Presidential
constitutions, namely that the Executive is distinct from the
Legislature.
Phenomenon
Wilson indeed notes that, in Jayewardene’s musings, which the book
dignifies into a manifesto, he had wanted a Cabinet outside Parliament;
but Wilson hardly looks into the reasons for placing the Cabinet firmly
in Parliament, which the 1978 Constitution does, a phenomenon not seen
in any country which is cited as a model for a Presidential system.
The result was total control of the Legislature by the Executive.
Gone therefore was the tradition of control of the Executive through
traditional parliamentary instruments such as the Committee on Public
Accounts. Even if this had not always been chaired previously by a
member of the Opposition, the Chair was not a Minister. Indeed, in 1970,
Bernard Soysa refrained from taking up the position of Deputy Minister
of Finance (though he used to act for the Minister in his absence), so
that he could chair the Public Accounts Committee without being
trammelled by executive responsibilities.
Tempting
However, with practically everyone of consequence in government in
office, the supervisory function of Parliament simply disintegrated.
And, with the carrot of easy office tempting them (and with the stick of
possible expulsion), the few backbenchers there were naturally toed the
line assiduously.
But, in addition to the increased control it gave him of his Members
of Parliament, there were I think a couple of other reasons for
Jayewardene’s multiplication of Ministries. One was, very simply, the
additional resources these individuals could command as Ministers. With
the new economic policies the Jayewardene government introduced, without
getting rid of the controlling powers of the state, there was massive
scope for profiting through executive office.
Personal electorate
And going together with this was a second reason, namely the
abolition of responsibility towards a limited personal electorate.
Through his introduction of District level proportional representation,
Jayewardene in effect cut the link between the Member of Parliament and
his constituents.
Instead of being able to concentrate on a limited area, for the
development of which he was solely responsible, the Member of Parliament
had to look further afield.
Whilst in theory he had a larger area to cover, the commitment he
felt to his constituents, and the commitment he had to develop in them
towards himself, were no longer of the essence.
And when the initial pure party PR system was changed to allow for
three personal preferences, for which candidates had to compete each
other, these two factors came together in a big way. Any Parliamentarian
had to impact on a vast area, which meant far greater resources were
needed.
Obviously the best way to command such resources, preferably
legitimately, though not necessarily, was through the patronage an
executive office would provide.
And so, for the Development Council elections, for the Referendum to
keep Parliament going, for the Provincial Council elections, for the
Presidential and Parliamentary elections, there were lots of Ministers
wielding enormous resources, of course for themselves as well as their
Party.
The essence of a principled Presidential constitution, as laid down
in the first of its kind in the modern world, the American one, is the
separation of powers. Executive power is vested in a President who,
indeed, does not have Ministers, but appoints a number of Secretaries to
head the various Departments created to assist him in his
responsibilities. The number of such Secretaries is limited by the
Constitution, though in recent years there has been some increase as new
and sometimes old subjects increase in importance - thus Education was
hived off from the old Health, Education and Welfare portfolio, while
Veterans’ Affairs has now its own Department.
In the British tradition, on the other hand, everything belonged to
the King, and therefore he could himself decide how many advisers he
needed.
That indeed is why Ministers collectively are called the Cabinet,
which refers to the private room in which they met. Their membership of
Parliament was almost an accident, springing from the fact that, when
the King chose people from outside the ranks of the nobles, who were
anyway in the House of Lords, he ennobled them.
With the Revolution of 1688 - the great Liberal Revolution, which the
French Revolution was supposed to emulate, before it turned bloodily
radical - and then the end of the acceptable Stuart line, which led to a
German king who spoke no English, the Cabinet acquired greater
independence.
Old principle
Having in itself however no independent authority, it had to be
rooted in a statutory body, and this was Parliament. Since Parliament
however had nothing to do then with democracy, as we now understand the
term , selection to ministerial office still went on the old principle
of, not quite merit, but what the sovereign or his representative, the
Prime Minister, saw as merit. And of course, with the Industrial
Revolution, the need for oversight of a vast range of activities led to
the expansion of the Cabinet, with a concomitant need to increase the
pool, as it were, from which Ministers were drawn.
Electoral terms
Correspondingly, with the need for Parliamentary majorities, other
criteria apart from merit or supposed merit came into play. There was a
need for representation from all parties, or interest groups, whose
support was necessary for the survival of a government. And individuals
who had made their mark in electoral terms had to be considered, in
particular, with the strengthening of party politics in time, those who
contributed to the electoral success of their parties.
These considerations were not important in the Presidential system as
initially envisaged. Sometimes American Presidents coopted their
opponents by appointing them to the Cabinet, but that had nothing to do
with electoral politics as far as the incumbent President was concerned
. And when a different Presidential model emerged, in France with the
Gaullist Constitution, which added on a Prime Minister who had to have
the support of the Legislature, the Cabinet was also divorced from the
Legislature, even though deriving its authority from that Legislature.
Ministers who had been elected to Parliament resigned, while there was
provision for appointments from outside politics - the most obvious
example of this is Bernard Kouchner who was French Foreign Minister
until recently, after coming to fame as a Non-Governmental activist, but
there have also been many capable Civil Servants and businessmen.
Expertise
It should be noted too that the traditional Westminster system, where
the Cabinet is rooted in Parliament, also permits for expertise from
outside to be brought into the Cabinet. Britain has continued with its
House of Lords, with Lord Amos being a recent example of an influential
Minister who had not been elected - and we cannot forget, given her
seminal role in getting rid of GSP+ while head of Foreign Relations in
Europe, Lady Ashton, who came there via the House of Lords.
India of course has its Rajya Sabha, to which experts suitable for
Ministerial office can be appointed, most obviously Manmohan Singh -
which is similar to the precedent set in 1960 when Mrs Bandaranaike
became Prime Minister, though she was also made leader of her party.
And in Thailand, which has a fully elected Senate, members of the
Cabinet do not have to be members of either House of Parliament. In Sri
Lanka however, when he introduced a Presidential system which he had
argued was necessary to divorce the Executive from legislative
responsibilities, Jayewardene deliberately continued with the principle
that Ministers had to come from Parliament. He also introduced the
notion of Ministers outside the Cabinet, which made no sense at all
inasmuch as he did not at the same time restrict the size of the
Cabinet.
Optional
There was a difference, inasmuch as Cabinet Ministers had to have
Ministries, whereas non-Cabinet Ministers only needed to have subjects
and functions, with Ministries being optional. However there was no
definition of Ministry in the Constitution, and Jayewardene
characteristically created Ministries at will, bifurcating and joining
as he pleased, as in the preposterously named Ministry of Women’s
Affairs and Teaching Hospitals .
Subsequent Presidents then inherited a situation in which it was
assumed not only that they could, but also that they should, appoint
Members of Parliament to Ministries ad infinitum. Meanwhile the perks of
Ministers had been increased, with the power to appoint vast numbers of
individuals at will to their personal entourage . It became even more
desirable then to become a Minister, while it was also obvious that it
was easier to make a mark as a Minister than as one of a collective in a
District. The credit Members of Parliament could obtain in the past by
working in their electorates had been diluted by the presence of
colleagues who also had a stake in obtaining preferences from that
electorate .
Along with this incentive to request Ministerial office, there was
also the added bargaining power that Members of Parliament possessed.
With the abortive impeachment attempt of 1991, Presidents realized that
they had to work much harder at keeping their Parliamentarians happy.
And, as indicated above in the different criteria considered relevant
for Ministerial office when the Parliamentary system develop in Britain,
there were several aspects that had to be taken into account in
privileging Parliamentarians. Merit was one, and seniority was another,
but also the ability to succeed electorally - which often required
abilities that were not necessarily those required by Members of a
Cabinet.
And above all there was the fact that there was no good reason in Sri
Lanka after 1977 for refusing a request to be a Minister - there were
precedents for large Cabinets, and there could be no question of caliber
being of consequence, given the systems on which Cabinets had been
appointed in Sri Lanka from practically the very beginning.
There were efforts to limit the size of the Cabinet, but these never
lasted long. The most important attempt was in 2001, when President
Kumaratunga was put on probation by the JVP, which agreed to support her
after the exodus to the Opposition of a few of her Parliamentarians. One
of the conditions was a Cabinet limited to 20, which she nearly
achieved.
Foolishly - or perhaps cunningly, in anticipation of their own
electoral victory at some point - the JVP failed to get this entrenched
in the Constitution, which might well have been possible at the time,
given Kumaratunga’s eagerness for support and the willingness of the
Opposition to support reform. Unfortunately the focus at the time was
the 17th Amendment, yet another example of a good idea perverted through
insufficient attention to constitutional principles (as with the
Presidential system, proportional representation, a second chamber and
devolution).
Mrs Kumaratunga’s small Cabinet promptly disintegrated, with some
members crossing over to the Opposition, almost immediately after they
had been appointed. At the subsequent General Election, Mr
Wickremesinghe obtained a majority with the help of the defectors, and
became Prime Minister. He followed the trend Mrs Kumaratunga had set on
the instructions of the JVP, and started with a small Cabinet, but he
had as many Ministers outside the Cabinet. It was also apparent that he
had simply followed a formula, for he managed to leave his Minister of
Human Resources Development, Karunasena Kodituwakku, who was supposed to
be in charge of Education, outside the Cabinet. This may have been
deliberate, since it allowed the Ministers of Education and Higher
Education to set themselves on a par, and take control of various
aspects of education which Mr Kodituwakku never got back into his hands.
But in theory a mistake had been made, and Mr Kodituwakku was soon
afterwards elevated to the Cabinet along with several others, while even
more Ministers were appointed.
A measure of the cynicism involved can be seen in the fact that some
of these Ministers had no operational budget at all, but simply funding
to run an office. Since one of the clarion calls of that government was
for fiscal discipline, with public spending being cut left, right and
centre - most notably in Education - the fact that Mr Wickremesinghe
introduced new Ministries with no actual functions suggested that he had
the same attitude to the Executive as his uncle President Jayewardene.
One reason for Ministries to keep multiplying year after year,
whoever was in Government, was that no one ever ceases to be a Minister.
A reshuffle in Sri Lanka does not mean, as it does elsewhere in the
world, that some Ministers go to the back benches and others are
elevated to executive office. Rather, all old Ministers continue, most
of them in the same position, and therefore new Ministries have to be
created for those who are deemed, or deem themselves, worthy of
portfolios.
It is in that context that we must consider the recent innovation of
Senior Ministers being appointed. One of my elite acquaintance, who
normally has no good word to say for the government, mentioned that she
took her hat off to the President, in that he had finally found a way of
retiring people. This is a line the Opposition plugged during the recent
Adjournment Debate on Senior Ministers, since it was obviously in their
interests to suggest that the Senior Ministers had somehow been got rid
of, and should therefore feel annoyed, annoyed enough to cross over to
the Opposition in time. This is one way of looking at the innovation,
though I suspect the UNP has no reason to be particularly hopeful at
this stage. Its tactics in 1964 and 2001 only worked because there were
particular issues that could be played up with the electorate - and
those who cross over know that, even on a District PR system, it is not
easy to get elected, which is why so many of them end up on National
Lists. The term Senior Minister and the concept that many of them have
accepted gives them a very real task, if they are willing and able to
undertake it.
For what has been missing in the proliferation of Ministries over the
last three decades has been coordination. If you have several Ministries
concerned with similar subjects, there has to be some way of preventing
duplication of work, of expenses, of initiatives. This is not easy,
given our administrative system, which privileges the autonomy of
Ministries, given centralized accounting systems and the absence of
mechanisms for consultation except with regard to overarching projects.
Indeed even the Treasury finds it difficult to keep track of the work
Ministries do, in particular the funding they get from external sources,
though a valiant attempt to introduce some order into this was made in
recent years through the Ministry of Plan Implementation.
The picture is simply too big for coherent monitoring and
coordination.
Hence the broad but important areas which have been allocated to the
different Senior Ministers. I do not of course know all of them well,
but those I do know have the analytical skills, and the conceptualizing
ability, to obtain overviews of their areas of responsibility. Of course
transforming the picture that emerges into a tool for targeted action is
another question, but that is where interpersonal skills will have to
contribute as much as the authority born of seniority to regular and
productive consultation.
They should also be able to use the tools the Parliamentary system
puts at their disposal, the Committees on Public Accounts and Public
Enterprises, the Consultative Committees which, after lying dormant for
some years, are now being revived in at least some Ministries as
instruments of policy making and consensus building. These Committees
have an invaluable role to play in recommending streamlining, the
abolition of redundant government departments, the establishment of new
norms for public servants, in the struggle for fiscal responsibility
that the whole world now realizes is essential. Reforms however need, as
the latest budget illustrates, a human element as well, which is why
coordination to safeguard essential public services, whilst cutting what
is wasteful, is necessary.
Senior Ministers then have a vital and innovative role to play,
though it remains to be seen how many of them will fulfil expectations.
Obviously not all will, but it is best to give them all an opportunity
since, for the reasons discussed previously, selectivity is no longer
possible in the appointment of Ministers. Given the catch all situation
that obtains, what is important though is monitoring, and this is a task
that, given their experience, Senior Ministers should be able to
perform, not necessarily in any critical way, but to ensure productive
use of resources in the areas under their purview.
Indeed, if the Senior Ministers, or some of them, are successful,
they may be the precursor to a more rational Cabinet system than we have
at present, based as it is on British practices along with Jayewardene
stratagems, which are no substitute for the Constitutional conventions
Britain developed over the centuries. Ideally, the portfolios the Senior
Ministers have, together with essential offices of state, and
departments essential for all aspects of development, would add up to a
Cabinet of about 20.
Whilst of course Cabinet Ministers could then have other Ministers
for support, the executive capabilities of Members of Parliament could
also be exercised in their constituencies, on the new electoral system
that all parties see as a priority. Needless to say, the benefits of
office Ministers now have could be extended to all Constituency MPs,
since they would have wide-ranging responsibilities in the limited
geographical area that had been committed to their charge.
My argument then is that, instead of seeing Senior Ministers as a
threat, as the Opposition does, or pretends to, if only to dragoon those
Ministers into seeing things the same way, we should see this as an
opportunity. It is the first important variation for years on the theme
Jayewardene began playing when he gave himself the power through the
1978 Constitution to appoint Ministers as he pleased. If used
imaginatively, it could be the basis for ensuring better accountability
on the part of the executive, not only to the people, not only to
Parliament, which represents the people, but also to the President, as
the head of the Executive elected by the people.
(A lecture delivered last week to mark the 24th anniversary of the
founding of the Liberal Party of Sri Lanka and the 30th anniversary of
the founding of the Council for Liberal Democracy)
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