by Anura Gunasekera

The wrath of a nation can be a fearful thing. In 2022 we saw its evolution and culmination in our own “Aragalaya“, which sent the then president, a so called “battle hardened” war veteran and “warrior-statesman”, first in to exile and then to precipitate retirement.

We saw it again, just a couple of weeks ago, in the election of Sri Lanka’s ninth executive president, a villager from deeply rural Tambuttegama, the son of a surveyor’s assistant. That he was the first student from Tambuttegama Central College to gain university entrance, is another factor which attests to the absence of privilege and personal resources. His election is also an extension of the “Aragalaya”, and a logical evolution of that movement, but without the drama and histrionics and, instead, that energy, that anger, legitimately channeled in to a quiet civic purpose.

Anura Kumara Dissanayake (AKD) is an unlikely incumbent in the presidential palace, not only because of his very modest background, but also because of the baggage and history of violence, against the very people and the institutions he is now going to govern, perpetrated by the political party which sponsored him. The late Ranasinghe Premadasa, too, came from the urban equivalent of social irrelevance but, by the time he became president of the country, he was already a towering force in national politics.

Most of the 5.7 million people who voted AKD in to power, including this writer and his wife, had not forgotten the impact and consequences of the 1971 JVP insurrection, or those of the second in 1988/89. Given that disturbing context, why did he win the 2024 presidential election, albeit by a slim majority? AKD was a toddler during the first insurrection but has readily admitted to playing a part in the second, as a very active member.

I offer my(our) voting pattern as a likely explanation.

In 1977, I rode from Kandapola to Kadadorapitiya in Kotmale, a distance of 50 km in the pouring rain, with my wife on the pillion, and we voted for the UNP candidate for Kotmale. As a working tea planter then, I and many of my colleagues, were deeply disturbed by the intimidatory demonstrations of many ruling SLFP politicians, against the plantation fraternity. That was the last time we voted for a party led by J.R. Jayewardene (JRJ). In 2005, despite serious misgivings, we voted for Ranil Wickremesinghe, as I found Mahinda Rajapaksa’s (MR) racially-charged rhetoric, abhorrent.

In 2009 we opted for Field Marshal, Sarath Fonseka, as a more decent, uncorrupt alternative to Rajapaksa rule, though I gave MR credit for having displayed the political will, for the elimination of the LTTE threat against the Sri Lankan nation-state. In 2015, revolted by the rampant corruption and the aggressively anti-minority stance of the Rajapaksa regime, we chose Maithripala Sirisena and Yahapalanaya.

I even wrote a couple of articles, extolling the virtues of the good governance that was promised. There was hope, for a few weeks, till the “bond scam” ordure hit the proverbial fan and dispelled the euphoria. The promise of good governance was just a cover for the swindles which followed. In 2019 we voted for Sajith Premadasa, as we were convinced, with total justification, that Gotabaya Rajapaksa would be an extension of Rajapksa misrule, despite the contrary opinion of 6.9 million people.

Five years later, along with a few million others, we have placed our faith in the passionate, peasant reformer from Tambuttegama.

Commencing with the JRJ regime, key features of all successive governments have been State corruption, intimidation and assassination of critics, an arrogant disregard for the judiciary which included physical intimidation, the patronage of criminals, and complicity in fraudulent transactions of massive proportions, which depleted State resources, carried out by the State itself or through empowered proxies. These rose to new heights under MR and, under GR, were further compounded by moronic presidential directives, which impoverished the nation through the loss of agricultural land productivity.

The cumulative result of the above was a financial implosion, the summary eviction of GR, and the unexpected installation of Ranil Wickremesinghe (RW), as an unlikely saviour. He did restore a measure of fiscal sanity and provided the nation with some relief, but coupled it with the imposition of unbearable financial hardship on citizens, who were actually the helpless victims of the crimes of the rulers.

Along with the restoration of financial order, RW’s term as president was also signposted by questionable deals, of proportions which relegated the earlier “bond scam” in to insignificance. The Adani wind-power project, the “Visa” scam and the electronic passport deal, are but a few typical examples. Added to that was RW’s arrogant dismissal of Supreme Court directives and his contemptuous rebuttals to legitimate queries, even in Parliament. In an article published in the “Island” newspaper of July 17, 2022, I suggested that RW’s first acts as “appointed president”, may be the “preliminaries to a fascist regime to rival that of the deposed president, Gotabaya Rajapaksa”. I was not wrong.

Thus, despite changes in regimes and rulers, the corrupt and the powerful continued to thrive, proving to an agonized nation that powerful men will always protect powerful men, irrespective of differences in political belief. The people and the faces changed but the status quo, the license to loot and impunity from consequences, has been inviolate.

In the meantime, Sajith Premadasa (SP) despite overbearing, self-adulatory rhetoric , even in relation to the simplest of issues, when actually put to the test, twice demonstrated that he did not have the courage to venture in to unchartered territory. I voiced my feelings in two articles in the ‘Island- (The River That Sajith Premadasa Did Not Cross- May 15 2022 and, The Wickremesinghe Presidency- July 27,.2022). It must have crossed SP’s mind, after the latest loss, that had he seized the moment then, instead of allowing RW to grab it, he would probably be the elected president today.

AKD, our new president, notwithstanding repeated rejection by the electors, has remained firmly grounded to his platform of systems reform, fearlessly naming names and exposing corruption. His campaign message was fluent, direct and simple, and it has been accepted by a reasonable majority (42%) of those who voted, representing an exponential, hardly credible, increase from the paltry 3.16% in the 2019 presidential election.

Patali Ranawaka, parliamentarian, along with many other detractors, has sought to belittle this achievement, suggesting that AKD has been rejected by 58% of the voters. This simplistic arithmetic, if applied to the other two contestants, would suggest that SP has been rejected by 68% and RW by 83%, the latter despite his repeated claims, of having ferried the infant Sri Lankan nation across troubled waters.

Namal Rajapaksa’s (NM) abysmal performance, was a refreshingly unequivocal message from the entire nation, that the Rajapaksa brand of Sinhala-Buddhist centred, militaristic rhetoric, was no longer a marketable product, though related issues were not given central focus during his campaign. NR, stupidly arrogant and myopic, pre-election, spoke loftily, with smug conviction, of furthering the “Mahinda Chinthanaya”, and was rejected by 98% of the electors. RW’s performance too may have been better, had he not surrounded himself with the most corrupt of the Pohottuwa regime. Conversely, the election result reinforces the proven dictum, that the unappetizing RW is a negative influence on any alliance.

Overall, the 2024 election, for the first time since Independence, represents an unexpected maturity of outlook in the Sri Lankan nation. By electing the outsider from Tambuttegama, the voters have broken with the entrenched tradition of family rule, dynastic succession and old-party loyalty, along with the rejection of the tired, obsolete, ideologies of the established parties, parroted, in different ways, by both RW and SP.

The anger of the voters resonated with AKD’s message for a complete systems reform, an end to State corruption, and promised punishment for the corrupt and the criminal. AKD represents the last hope for a nation, nauseated, and impoverished, by the venality of its rulers. It is that message that I responded to, notwithstanding credible apprehensions about possible long-term outcomes of NPP-JVP rule.

His commitment to and focus on, transparency, accountability and social justice, inequalities in health care, educational opportunities, employment creation and environmental sustainability, mirrored the aspirations and concerns of many, especially those at the middle and lower end of the socio-economic ladder. Those comprise clear and optimistic visions for the future, particularly appealing in a time of great national uncertainty. They are also issues which engage the attention of educated youth, who have been frustrated by successive governments.

AKD has fared poorly in the Central Province plantation areas, and the North and the East, where the minorities are pre-dominant. He needs to quickly engage those polities, who have different needs, aspirations and agendas, all legitimate, but denied or subverted by a succession of Sinhala-Buddhist centrist governments. In this area AKD will be treading thin ice, meeting minority aspirations whilst keeping at bay two key JVP/NPP support segments – the retired military and the politically active Buddhist monks. The latter group in particular, is openly committed to Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy and the imposition of a Buddhist seal in the North and the East, engaging for their project the willing support of the forces, the Police Department and even the Department of Archaeology.

Recently, on You-tube, I watched a pre-election rally addressed by AKD, held at the Tambuttegama Central School grounds. He spoke convincingly, and movingly, of the life that he, his family, his fellow villagers and his schoolmates had led. In a matter-of-fact manner, he described the deprivation, the lack of resources and opportunities , and the social and economic marginalization that had been their lot. The audience – his community – listened in pin-drop silence. It was their story as well. Through that deeply personal narrative, he was reflecting the marginal circumstances of 80% of the people of this country, especially in the rural areas. If only a fraction of his manifesto is implemented, it will make life better for that segment and to that end, he needs, and deserves, the mandate that he is seekin