The issue that broke the alliance was trade: Sirisena
preferred to make deals with China, Wickremesinghe with nearby India.
by Gwynne Dyer
You could write a heart-warming fairy tale about the
turbulent events in the island nation of Sri Lanka in the past two months. It
would involve a conniving president who abruptly and illegally dismisses the
elected prime minister, and replaces him with a corrupt and blood-soaked former
despot who was the president’s old boss.
The despot tries to strengthen his position by offering
members of parliament jobs as ministers in his new government. If enough
accept, he would have a majority in the parliament and could claim to be sort
of legitimate. But most of the MPs turn down the political bribes and
parliament twice votes to reject him.
Finally, after 50 days of chaos, the judges of the
Supreme Court say the president has acted illegally and the ex-despot can’t
claim he is prime minister. At this point the despot resigns and the president
grudgingly “re-appoints” the legitimate prime minister. Virtue triumphs, and
joy is unconfined. Maybe they even live happily ever after.
It’s an engaging tale, and the basic outlines are true,
but in the real world the historical and social context that surrounds the
events changes the tone of everything.
Sri Lanka is only 10 years away from the end of a brutal
civil war that lasted for a quarter-century, and the despot is the man who won
it by being more brutal than anybody else. His name is Mahinda Rajapaksa.
Rajapaksa was the president who directed those battles, and he emerged from the war as a national hero.
Rajapaksa seemed set for a very long run in power. His
government continued to torture and “disappear” opponents, and his family grew
rich from corrupt deals.
But in 2015 one of his cabinet ministers, Maithripila
Sirisena, defected from the government, ran against Rajapaksa for the
presidency – and won.
To his credit, Rajapaksa accepted his defeat. Sirisena
found a new ally in Ranil Wickremesinghe, whose business-friendly United
National Party had won a majority in parliament, and appointed him as prime
minister. However, the new allies had little in common and estrangement between
them grew.
The issue that broke the alliance was trade: Sirisena
preferred to make deals with China, Wickremesinghe with nearby India.
On Oct. 25, Sirisena sacked Wickremesinghe (illegally)
and appointed Rajapaksa as prime minister instead.
Wickremesinghe pointed out that Sirisena didn’t have the
power to do that and barricaded himself into Temple Trees, the prime minister’s
official residence. Rajapaksa couldn’t get enough members of parliament to
switch sides. They voted twice to remove Rajapaksa, so Sirisena dismissed
parliament and called new elections.
That was illegal too, and the struggle continued until,
last week, the Supreme Court ruled that Sirisena could not dissolve parliament.
At that point Rajapaksa resigned, and on Monday an angry Sirisena grudgingly
swore Wickremesinghe back in as prime minister.
An encouraging outcome, in which parliament, the courts
and the general population behaved better than anybody expected, but of course
the story is never really over.
Sirisena can constitutionally dismiss the parliament 15
months from now, and Rajapaksa may well win the next election. Meanwhile
Wickremesinghe’s government may be almost paralysed, because relations between
Sirisena and him are totally poisonous.
The fairy tale is to be preferred whenever possible.
Gwynne Dyer is an independent journalist based in London, England. Views expressed in this article are author's own.
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