Our destructively defensive mode

by Kishali Pinto Jayawardene

(July 12, Colombo, Sri Lanka Guardian) It is a fact that much of the criticisms now leveled against Sri Lanka by international human rights actors have also been consistently levelled against states seen to be habitual violators of international human rights norms, including Israel. This is something that we need to remind ourselves of, if we are not to be trapped in a destructively defensive mode.

Disallowing hysterical abuse

During the previous administrations of both the United States and the United Kingdom, some of these groups were in the forefront of criticizing and highlighting egregious human rights violations committed by these administrations in the name of the war against terror. This same observation applies to experts appointed under the Special Procedures mechanisms of the United Nations, many of whom such as Special Rapportuer on Torture, Prof Manfred Novak, had been leading the call for the United States to revise its methods of interrogation of terror suspects including water boarding during the Bush administration.

So it must be cautioned that there is a way of dealing with criticism and that is certainly not to engage in hysterical abuse or to go on dramatically distasteful hunger strikes. For each accusation levelled against these individuals or groups by the government or its most singularly ill advised advisors and nationalist propagandists, one can be certain that the level of glee on the part of the pro LTTE lobby is bound to increase exponentially.

A question of collective introspection

This column space had been consistently occupied with the question of collective introspection as to why Sri Lanka's society remains silent when their institutions of democracy are subverted. It is quite ironic that in the eighties, despite the barbarities committed by government forces during that time in Sri Lanka, there was a measure of optimism regarding the future of this country. The differences then, as compared to now, are stark. We had an activist civil society, a vibrant media and most importantly, faith in at least one institution, the judiciary. Thus, despite the killings and the widespread climate of fear that prevailed, we could shoulder the burdens cast upon us with a commendable degree of strength.

That strength has however, progressively diminished through the years despite some sparks now and then. I recall with some nostalgia, the efforts made by the late Mr Desmond Fernando, (who passed away this week), during his term as the President of the Bar Association of Sri Lanka, to bring the Bar to a sense of its own responsibilities when the judiciary was subjected to inner subversion to an extent little seen since independence.

In particular, when the newsletter of the Bar Association at that time took upon itself to report on the clash of wills between former Chief Justice Sarath N. Silva and the two other members of the Judicial Service Association, the printer of the newsletter was intimidated and refused to publish that issue saying that he would be cited for contempt of court. It was Mr Fernando who went ahead and insisted that the issue be published, taking the costs personally. Yet these efforts were few and far inbetween during those times. And now, we reap the whirlwind, in truth. And the truth then appears to be that, irrespective of what the late little lamented Velupillai Prabhakaran's atrocities had conjured up, the enemy is, in effect, within.

Consensus on governance

Let us now take a hypothetical scenario. Let us take a situation which envisages a consensus of opinion across the country of all those who together constitute the leading social, scientific, professional, business and intellectual voices of the day in Sri Lanka. Let us envisage this consensus in contradistinction to the politicians and in relation to very basic issues such as the 17th Amendment to the Constitution with an emphasis in particular on an independent National Police Commission and an independent Elections Commission. Let us hear from them an equal condemnation of the excesses of the government as well as the vacillations of the Opposition and the political opportunism of both. Let us hear from them a strong call for an acknowledgement of what post war justice really entails and the inner fragmentation that the country would surely experience if this kind of game playing is allowed to continue any longer.

The evil of our passivity

Yet the reality is far from the ideal. The lack of any compulsion for civil society to start thinking, let alone acting, to bring about such a consensus is deafening. When the final reckoning is reached at some point of time in the future as to when democracy died in Sri Lanka, it will be this continuing silence on the part of the scientists, the professionals and the intellectuals in this country which will be judged as harshly if not more than the meanderings of politicians.

For over three decades, this country has been under emergency rule to the extent that (most peculiarly) the rule of law has been by emergency. Many of the emergency law provisions reiterate existing law which would, by themselves, have been sufficient to deal with any situations that may arise, specially in a post war situation. Their duplication in emergency laws under the Public Security Ordinance at a time like this continues to be very problematic.

Yet, what is safe to conclude is that despite whatever twists and turns that the months ahead may bring us as we rush headlong into confrontation with the United Nations, whatever new extremities that the economy will fall into, we will take what is passively dished out to us by our governments and our oppositions.

Displacing of our moral legitimacy as democratic people

Politicians, by virtue of their very being, cannot be expected to look out for the people. Though the basis of their political mandate is precisely to serve the people whom they govern, that ethic was true, if at all in this country, only in a gentler era now long gone.

In this century, Sri Lanka has won for herself a name that has equal ranking along with the worst trouble spots in the world. And the deterioration has come not only in terms of the actual war itself. The insidious displacing of our moral legitimacy as democratic people has been far more troubling.

The questions therefore are vital. What do we actually need as a culture of governance in Sri Lanka? Indeed, do we actually need democracy at all?