A political gamble in Sri Lanka

THE UNTIMELY DISSOLUTION of Parliament in Sri Lanka may not have surprised the country's politicians. However, the President, Ms. Chandrika Kumaratunga, has once again acted with authoritarian disdain for political propriety by dissolving Parliament with unseemly haste in a cynical attempt to confound her opponents. At the stroke of the midnight hour when the House completed just one year of its full term, the President played her `ace' by resorting to the letter and not the spirit of the law that stipulates a mandatory minimum period of existence for the elected Parliament. In a purely legal sense, she is not guilty of violating the present Constitution that grants her such a prerogative under a system of executive presidency. Yet, the dissolution is the opportunist device by which she has thwarted the House from voting on a pending no-confidence motion that was duly moved against the Government headed by her People's Alliance. When the President struck, there was surely little doubt that the Government found itself clueless about how to survive in the context of a clear loss of parliamentary majority due to the latest desertion of the ruling camp by eight members. The gallery of defectors to the Opposition ranks included Mr. S. B. Dissanayake, General Secretary of the President's own Sri Lanka Freedom Party until a few days ago, and Prof. G. L. Peiris, who had at one stage served as Ms. Kumaratunga's constitutional wizard on issues concerning the reform of the polity as also a fair deal for the country's minority Tamils.

Simmering has been the President's ire against the House that she now has done away with. It was only a few months ago that she prorogued Parliament in somewhat similar circumstances when the Government was reduced to the virtual status of a minority formation in the House. The Government's predicament then was traceable to a series of political developments that followed the President's estrangement with Mr. Rauf Hakeem, a pan-Sri Lankan leader from the minority segment of Muslims. In the totality of those circumstances, Ms. Kumaratunga began acting in a manifestly autocratic fashion that marked a decisive shift from her practised politics of fairness and firm direction. Seeking to portray a higher purpose as her political compulsion for suspending Parliament at that stage, she even ordered a referendum on the need for a new Constitution. Finding the going tough, though, the President soon beat a retreat and entered into a controversial understanding with the Janata Vimukti Peramuna (JVP), which still makes its presence felt as a radical champion of the rights of the majority Sinhala population.

The real political price that Ms. Kumaratunga agreed to pay for the JVP's support remains unacknowledged, but it is evident that she has soft-pedalled in respect of several economic and political policies including her one-time preference for a quick and fair resolution of Sri Lanka's national question about the rights of the Tamil people. The latest parliamentary crisis, which she wants to forget as a bad dream by holding elections next December, may not have had much to do with the JVP which does not appear to be the direct instigator of trouble. Yet, it is hardly surprising that some of Ms. Kumaratunga's own associates have rocked her boat in a situation that has increasingly come to be defined by her stylised political arrogance which perhaps conceals a certain nervousness. There has indeed been no political threat to her own highly empowered presidency. So, Sri Lanka may have been better served if she had, instead of dissolving Parliament, allowed the Opposition to form a Government. To argue that this might be a recipe for a constitutional gridlock is to ignore the basic statute itself in some essentials. In any case, the President requires the cooperation of the Opposition to steer the country through its difficult times. To belittle the Opposition is not the best way.

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Section  : Opinion
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