Editorial

Security

Politics

World

Letters

Sports

Obituaries

Archives

Co-habitation, political culture and peace-making

Observations by LAKSHMAN GUNASEKERA

In her heyday in power, the late Sirimavo Bandaranaike was noted for being 'photogenic'. In terms of the conventions and requisites of female beauty, the three-times Premier and doughty politician was thought of as always turning out pretty in the picture.

For the big media these days there is a new subject of media photography: those moments of Presidential-Prime Ministerial intimacy.

In her heyday in power, her daughter, too, earned a similar, if not stronger, reputation and press cameras would flash enthusiastically at public occasions whenever Chandrika B. Kumaratunga flashed her infectious smile. (I suspect that, at one time, that smile became an escape tactic in difficult moments; I wish it did even today rather than the difficult language one hears.)

Nowadays the President does not seem to be smiling as often as she did. Or, is it merely the scanty media coverage that she is afforded these days - perhaps a coverage that deliberately seeks out the more unprepossessing postures?

Despite its own political preferences, however, for the big media these days there is a new subject of media photography: those moments of Presidential-Prime Ministerial intimacy. Whenever the President and Prime Minister are seen together, in close discussion, especially when paying amicable attention to each other, these moments have become the most photogenic. Let Ranil and Chandrika sit down together on some official podium and the slightest friendly body language becomes the next day's Page 1 Main Picture.

In an era of co-existence in state power of both major 'national' political parties, one would have thought that such an inter-course between the two leading officers of State and Government would be so common-place as to attract little public attention if at all, to merely affirm that co-existence. Hence, such moments would not predicate prominent pictures all the time as they seem to do nowadays.

But in Sri Lanka, perhaps due to its pitiful post-colonial condition in contrast to the ethos of political co-existence in such colonial powers as France and the United States, a co-habitation in power is something new, unexpected, un-sought, un-desired and obviously uncomfortable. Indeed, most political analysts today would conclude that this co-existence is non-existent; or, that it is more a parallel, confrontational habitation rather than a 'co'-habitation. That is why any Presidential-Prime Ministerial inter-action is seized on by the media seeking, perhaps hopelessly, for the slightest hint of a viable co-habitation.

If the civil war in the country seems to have been at least suspended in terms of the military contest between Eelamist and State forces, another civil war continues in the form of the political contest for power between the two principal Sinhala-led political formations. At least this one does not involve the killing of tens of thousands of ordinary people, combatant and non-combatant. Rather, the politicians who guide this particular contest for power are themselves engaged in battle - in Parliament.

Just as in the legendary Elara-Dutugemunu war the leaders themselves were finally compelled to fight it out, the Sinhalas, I'm sure, are happy that this modern contest for power is being fought out, even physically, by the 'leaders' in Parliament, thereby saving the ordinary folk a lot of trouble. But it is not enough to limit the fight to Parliament.

While some may even want an exciting 'live' TV coverage of back-bencher battalions charging into the fray, of mortal combat in the Well of the House, all this, even a casualty or two, is not going to resolve this modern conflict. Does it matter if the Parliamentary fight gets physical - especially if it keeps the rest of us safe from violent turf wars outside? It does. Last week the violence in the well of the House demonstrated the intensity of the enmity between the two main Sinhala-led parties. Given the frailty of the political relationship between the United National Front Government and the People's Alliance Presidency on the one hand, and urgent need for an active political collaboration for the resolution of the ethnic conflict on the other, nothing can be more alarming than the outbreak of physical hostilities, even if it is (thankfully only) in Parliament.

As I have pointed out before in these columns, given the Sinhala community's ethnic domination of the Sri Lankan 'nation-state' (i.e. what's left of it), and that State's prevalent dynamics of authoritarian control and political patronage based on class/caste/ethnicity, this political contest is for the resources of that State. Once they, in ethnic community terms, took control of the State, the Sinhalas have continued to fight over the spoils of that State.

This, of course, is nothing to do with any ingrained, 'natural' self-destructive tendency of the Sinhala as some Sinhala ethno-nationalists might claim in their narcissistic self-flagellation. It is simply a continuation of that elemental politics of rivalry over power and resources that began in the process of 'de-colonisation' set in motion by the departing British and became part and parcel of the system of majority vote-based, competitive political party governance that goes by the name of 'parliamentary democracy'.

Sheer voting strength having first (at least temporarily) decided the ethnic contest for State power in their favour, the Sinhalas are then compelled, by the competitive dynamic of the system, to pursue that same contest in terms of class, caste and other socio-cultural sub-national (i.e. sub-ethnic community) group interests.

Thus, the interminable infighting. Hence, it is not surprising that, even as the marginalised Tamil community geared up for battle, the first spillage of the power-struggle outside the civilian political processes and into the realm of organised violent contest occurred within the Sinhala community - in 1971. I say 'organised' because the ethnic contest by this time had also broadened into violent struggle in the form of anti-Tamil 'race riots' and, the extra-institutional Tamil protest campaigns and the repressive (police-military) State response to those campaigns.

In 1971, the contest for power within the Sinhala community took the form of organised violence by means of insurgency and counter-insurgency. It was in the mid-1970s (the first prominent action being the assassination of Alfred Duraiappah) that the Tamil secessionist insurgency took off, leading to what has become a secessionist war.

A society's ability to function, to survive, depends on its integral strength: the interaction between culture in terms of living praxis (i.e. practical living) and, the structures that render that praxis effective in making that society a viable, continuing entity. These structures comprise cultural convention, forms of social communication, economic relations, political institutions etc., all of which enable a cohesive society, including, at an ideological level, a collective identity or an inter-laced set of identities. Nothing - neither structures nor identities - is, of course, absolute or irrevocable.

'Ultimately' such phenomena are not discrete forms but coalesce at the margins of their formations while they inter-act and transform in the process of that inter-action. In the Sri Lankan context, half a millennium of societal devastation by three successive colonial regimes has left a society, especially the Sinhala community, traumatised, fragile and largely bereft of any 'integrated' cultural form let alone political or other institutions. Sri Lankan political culture, therefore, did not coincide with the political system 'introduced' (imposed) by the British, especially after they and their predecessors, the Dutch and the Portuguese had systematically manipulated and dismantled the indigenous structures.

Saddled as it is with the colonial trauma, a colonised mindset and an imposed political system (in addition to a neo-colonial economy and class structure), is it surprising that Sri Lankan society (especially the Sinhalas), a mere fifty years after a half-millennium of colonialism, is failing in coming to grips with its multiple maladies? How can a South Asian, colonised and incapacitated society match the 'spirit' of Westminster democracy? The local political culture (whatever there was left of it) could never have complemented a European political system. We can never be expected to truly live out Westminster democracy - although a pretence at such a praxis is crucial for continued neo-colonial ideological subservience and class domination.

And when a confused political culture (that is the outcome of such a post-colonial malady) must grapple with a multiplicity of contests for power at ethnic, class, caste, and gender levels as well deal with major problems of economic productivity and efficient governance, why is it surprising that the contests for power end up violent and governance ends up corrupt?

But it must be regarded as 'surprising' and unnecessary and avoidable. That is the only perspective with which a society that wishes to survive and move forward can view the post-colonial crisis we are in. Hence, the need, on the one, to evolve a viable chinthanaya (i.e. outlook on life on this island) and, at the same time in practice, to endeavour to move beyond violence and power contestations.

There must be a conscious effort to create a new political culture, deriving as necessary, from whatever is left of useful traditional values and institutions and, also, from models of other societies, preferably those with some cultural affinity.

Right now, one essential convention that needs to be upheld is that of political collaboration, especially in resolving the ethnic conflict. As these columns have reiterated ad nauseam, some kind of broad consensus is needed among the Sinhala community if the peace process is to move forward towards a permanent political settlement; and that consensus predicates a political collaboration among the political parties representative of the Sinhalas, at least between the two major parties representing the bulk of the community.

The effort towards political recovery cannot be restricted to the political institutional processes that have contributed to the crisis. If the contest for power has spilled into the streets and into organised violence (and spontaneous violence in Parliament), then the efforts to overcome this politics must transcend any constraints, as it has, indeed, done - even the bourgeoisie took to the streets for peace in the aftermath of the profit-shaking attack on Katunayaka.

But the mass of people was active for peace at various levels long before the bourgeoisie was distracted from its industry and revelry. Hence, the number of civic lobbies and mass movements for peace. It is time that all these forces, bourgeois and popular, take the initiative in persuading the main parties to collaborate for peace. That is why, in a previous column, I called for a citizens' initiative.

There is a need for the mass constituency of the two main parties, i.e. the Sinhalas, to form some representative public body that has powerful, iconic significance to a degree that it can prevail on the two main parties to move in a desired direction. Such a body can only emerge through a process of organised public discussion that will indicate the Sinhala voting public's readiness to go some distance in conceptualising a New Republic of political structures providing for inter-ethnic political equality as well as good governance.

Even if the two parties cannot suspend their rivalry in all arenas, and on all aspects of politics and governance, there must be public pressure that will compel them to co-operate at least on the ethnic issue.

What we see today is the continuing game of political gamble and gambit with no room whatsoever for other kinds of politics in relation to at least the ethnic issue. The contest for absolute governmental power and the perpetuation of that power (or, at least its security in the medium term), remains foremost in the strategic thinking of both major parties.

It is important to understand that this is not merely the thinking or the self-interested strategising of the politicians.

As I pointed out above, this is part and parcel of the contest for power over the 'spoils of State' by sub-national groups within the dominant ethnic community. Thus, the ridiculous fisticuffs inside the House are, actually, an articulation of the ridiculously parochial squabble for the spoils of State that goes on outside.

That is why the citizenry must take the initiative to act otherwise, through mass action and through new citizens' bodies, to demonstrate that they are collectively willing to set aside that unseemly squabble at least for the purpose of consensual politics for peace. If the citizens act differently on the streets and in their own new fora, then those in the House will feel compelled to behave differently.

News | Business | Features | Editorial | Security
Politics | World | Letters | Sports | Obituaries

Produced by Lake House
Copyright 2001 The Associated Newspapers of Ceylon Ltd.
Comments and suggestions to :Web Manager