By Malinda Seneviratne

It is like the calm after the storm, isn’t it? I am referring to the forthcoming general election to be held just 10 weeks after an emotion-packed presidential affair, which seemed at one point to be so intensely fought that the outcome was written by some as “too close to call.”  The “Presidential” then was THE election and the “General,” largely expected to go the winner’s way on account of momentum as well as demoralization of the losing camp, just the icing on the victory cake. The “Presidential” was the biggie, the “General” in comparison a footnote.

First of all, we have to factor in the “fallout” of the “Presidential,” what one may call the impact of changed circumstances. The realities of the 1978 Constitution and the enormous powers vested in the office of the president naturally puts all elected assemblies, from local government bodies to provincial councils to the parliament, under the enormous shadow of the executive authority. Having bet their all on the “Presidential,” there is dismay and more seriously palpable fatigue on the part of the opposition, especially its rank and file. There is a kind of swing and carry, to use cricketing metaphors, that comes with success, which will no doubt benefit the ruling coalition, the United People’s Freedom Alliance (UPFA).

Then there is the opposition split, an eventuality that was scripted in such large font that only the most naïve could be surprised. Whereas a victory for Sarath Fonseka would have seen him taking control of the United National Party (UNP) and the coalition led by him contesting the “General” under the swan symbol, defeat has naturally diminished, considerably, his political stock. The UNP needed a fall guy and tossed the bait of the presidency. Fonseka bit. Had he won, he would have ordered a sea, but having lost he’s just gasping for breath outside the water. He served the purpose of saving Ranil Wickremesinghe some blushes. His utility value has dropped to zero as far as the UNP is concerned.

Handicapped by childlike innocence about things political, cornered by a political opponent he needlessly antagonized, compromised by a loose tongue and weighed down by a massive ego, Fonseka is now dead weight to everyone except the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), which is now officially fighting for whatever parliamentary crumbs that may come its way. Fonseka probably believes that the 4.17 million people who voted for him in January would vote for the trophy symbol in April. He will be lucky to get 400,000. But if he polls half that amount in the Colombo District, it could very well translate into a couple of seats for the JVP.

A Fonseka-less, JVP-less effort led by the UNP would reveal that party’s true electoral strength. My hunch is that the UNP will secure anything between 30 to 35 percent of the total vote island-wide. The most damning impact of the parting of ways alluded to above is that it would give the UPFA the bonus seat of all districts except perhaps those in the north and east. It won’t get the UPFA to the magic number of 150 (for a two-thirds majority), but then again the winner gets an extra pack of trump cards, which can be waved at the opposition to purchase support.

Imagine a scenario where the UPFA and its allies get something like 130 seats. Faced with the prospect of wandering in the political wilderness for another six years, harboring who knows what resentment against Wickremesinghe and his lack of leadership qualities, an exodus would be likely. The Tamil National Alliance (TNA), which is showing signs of becoming the reincarnated version of Appapillai Amirthalingam’s TULF (elitist, upper caste, separatist), is tipped to secure more than 20 seats. Given recent patterns, one cannot rule out half this number “crossing over” for personal gain.

None of this is rocket science. It is just straight forward, commonsense extrapolations of well-established electoral patterns. What makes this a non-issue or issue-less election is the fact that the “issues” as they were, have already been presented, thrashed out and voted upon. Party manifestos, for example, would not cause anyone to lose any sleep. We went through that process in the run-up to the presidential election.

Mahinda Rajapaksa updated his “Mahinda Chinthana,” and that document will be the manifesto of the UPFA in the general election as well. For purposes of maintaining (some) political coherence, the JVP will go with Fonseka’s policy document. Wickremesinghe has already distributed a manifesto of sorts. He did this just before Fonseka officially announced he was going to contest. That will be the UNP’s manifesto, give or take a few words.

Another way to assess the true excitement level of this election would be to compare it with previous general elections. I am thinking of 1994, 2000, 2001 and 2004―all key elections and all which produced much more excitement than that of wondering which new faces would replace which old ones, seemingly the only excitement leading up to this year’s general election.

Let’s begin with 1994. It was a landmark election and in many ways yielded a direction-changing result.  Year 1994 came after 17 years of continuous rule by the UNP, after a series of draconian measures imposed on the people by abusing the five-sixths majority that J.R. Jayewardena had in parliament, and after the assassination of a president whose tenure included a bloody two years of proxy arrests, abduction, torture and assassination that took the lives of some 60,000 people. Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga’s People’s Alliance (PA) squeaked through with a majority of one MP thanks in part to D.B. Wijetunga deciding to hold the general election first. It was going to be easy for her to win the presidential election that followed, and indeed the entire exercise was turned into a mere formality after the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) assassinated her main opponent, Gamini Dissanayake. So yes, 1994 was momentous. It was an election where dhooshanaya (corruption) and bheeshanaya (terror) featured heavily in campaign rhetoric. We got “regime change.” The impossible was obtained.

The next “General” was in the year 2000, more than a year and a half after Kumaratunga pipped Wickremesinghe at the “Presidential” of 1999. The gap was long enough for momentum to become a non-factor. The PA was re-elected, but the coalition was falling apart. Before a year had passed, Rauff Hakeem’s Sri Lanka Muslim Congress jumped, along with a group of PA members. The JVP muscled in with the parivaasa (probationary) proposal, and Kumaratunga had to agree. It was a peculiar configuration of forces and one which allowed the JVP to make its greatest contribution by far to the well being of the citizenry, collaring both PA and UNP to pass the 17th Amendment. Flawed, yes, but still the best we have by way of insulation from the politician.

It all collapsed, Kumaratunga had to dissolve parliament and the PA lost in December 2001. That was Wickremesinghe’s hour, and it lasted all of three years.

There was excitement in 2000 and 2001 because there was a good possibility that the opposition could win. Hard fought affairs. Both elections were held under the long shadow of the LTTE. Mr. Economy played a role. One went to the PA, and the other went to Wickremesinghe.

The last general election was probably the most emotional of the four. It was a virtual referendum on the ceasefire agreement that Wickremesinghe signed in 2002 with LTTE leader Velupillai Prabhakaran. It was a referendum on the federalist proposal of a small minority of Eelam-lovers who had managed to obtain the presidential ear. All that went out the window April 2004 and, in November 2005, was hoofed out of the Colombo International Airport to an unknown destination.

Yes, those were elections that were quite eventful, full of issues, full of excitement. Not this one, though. Boring. Almost like an afterthought considering all the fire and spit of the “Presidential.”

It is not irrelevant though. Parliamentary elections are about numbers, about rulers being pinched, about rulers getting comfortable cushions or kept on their toes. This election, in this sense, is no different. Still, it is not an issue-election, that much is certain.

Malinda Seneviratne is a freelance writer who can be reached at malinsene@gmail.com.

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