By Manjula Gajanayake –

Manjula Gajanayake

There is an insightful saying with a touch of sarcasm and humour from ancient Tamil literature: “It is as though one listened to the entire Ramayana and then asked what the relationship between Rama and Sita was” (Iramuedum Ramayanam kettu, sithaikku Raman envendum enbadupola). This metaphor is often applicable to how members of non-Tamil-speaking communities in Sri Lanka engage with the political aspirations of the Tamil people. Many Sri Lankans are acutely aware of the inherent challenges faced by the country’s smaller, minority communities. However, there exists a stark divide: while some are completely unaware of the necessary steps to address these challenges, others choose to remain willfully silent, perpetuating a false sense of complacency.

While the Tamil community no longer mobilizes in the streets or gathers at iconic locations like Galle Face, as they did during the ‘Aragalaya,’ one of their most fundamental demands remains steadfast: the right to democratic participation. At the heart of this demand lies the ability to vote in elections. However, the question of when the Tamil people will be granted the elections they eagerly await remains unresolved. Perhaps the only person who holds the answer is President Anura Kumara Dissanayake. This, of course, refers to the long-awaited Provincial Council elections.

There are three areas that resonate deeply with the Sri Lankan public, both Tamil and non-Tamil communities alike, earning a level of trust and enthusiasm. The first is cricket. Regardless of how often our team loses, we never hesitate to tune in for the next match. It is an innocent hope that, even after today’s defeat, tomorrow will bring victory. The second is exams. While there may be no scientific data to confirm it, there is a pervasive reluctance among Sri Lankans to face exams. Yet, no matter how disjointed our governance may seem, there remains a deep respect for the examination process. The Sri Lanka Examinations Department conducts around 300 exams annually, and despite some criticisms—like those surrounding the scholarship examination—it is widely regarded as efficient and reliable in its execution. The third area is elections.

The Election Commission is expected to announce the date for the next local government elections in the near future. If this happens, Sri Lanka will be preparing for its 77th election. When you look at the world map from top to bottom, only a handful of countries can boast of having held 77 consecutive elections. Yet, despite this track record of electoral integrity, it seems that the rights of the Tamil-speaking people have not been adequately safeguarded in recent years.

It was the final quarter of 2013—August and September—when the entire Northern Province was abuzz with anticipation surrounding the issue of elections. After many years, the inner circle of Mahinda Rajapaksa’s administration had finally reached a decision: Provincial Council elections would be held before the conflict in the North ended militarily not politically. While Mahinda Rajapaksa was the figurehead of this decision, it was likely his brother, Basil Rajapaksa, who played the pivotal role behind it. Several factors influenced this move, but the key was Basil’s involvement in some of the government’s largest development projects, including the ‘Uthuru Vasanthaya’ initiative. Perhaps he believed that the people of the North, who had yet to experience the full benefits of development, would be swayed by the tangible progress brought by the ‘Uthuru Vasanthaya’ and cast their votes in favor of the government.

Despite the circumstances, the Northern Provincial Council election was one of the most contentious and pivotal elections in Sri Lanka’s history. The last such election in the North was held on November 19, 1988, at a time when the North and East provinces were still united. One of the casualties of the ensuing war was the electoral process itself, which was disrupted to such an extent that it took 24 years, 10 months, and 3 days for another provincial council election to take place in the North.

In the interim, several national-level elections were held in the region, but most of them bred only distrust, uncertainty, and disappointment. A similar electoral experience had occurred earlier in the North with the Development Council election of 1981. S. Sivathasan’s poignant and insightful introduction to this election, titled “Jaffna Development Council Election 1981,” captures the profound impact it had on the local populace.

Another deeply touchy and unpleasant national election in which the North participated was the 2005 presidential election, which marked Mahinda Rajapaksa’s rise to power. His birthday, November 18, coincided with the day after the election on November 17. When the final results were announced, Rajapaksa celebrated both his election victory and his birthday simultaneously. However, this election stands out for the strikingly low voter turnout in the North, for example in the Jaffna district of the 701,938 registered voters, only 8,524 cast their votes—just 1.21% of the electorate. In practical terms, Rajapaksa secured only 1,967 votes from the Jaffna district.

This outcome highlighted two significant points. First, it highlighted that the LTTE, for the first time, directly influenced the election results for financial incentives. Second, it revealed that while a president is meant to be elected by the collective will of all nine provinces, Mahinda Rajapaksa had minimal support in the North. In Kilinochchi, which was entirely under LTTE control, only one vote was cast—and it was in favor of Ranil Wickremesinghe.

Now, we return to the central issue at hand: the Provincial Council elections. In that election, the Ilankai Tamil Arasu Kachchi Party emerged victorious, securing 30 seats with two bonus seats. The United People’s Freedom Alliance won 7 seats, while the Sri Lanka Muslim Congress captured the remaining seats.

Despite the results, what truly set this election apart was the pervasive atmosphere of fear that surrounded it. At the time, I was serving as the National Coordinator for the Centre for Monitoring Election Violence (CMEV). One of the most difficult challenges we faced was recruiting election observers. Although the war had ended, the entire Northern Province was still under military control, with both civil administration and local governance largely populated by active or retired military personnel. This created a hidden, yet palpable, climate of fear throughout the election campaign. As a result, it was extremely difficult to find citizens who felt safe enough to observe the elections in a region so tightly controlled by the military.

Eventually, we managed to build a network of observers, primarily consisting of students from the University of Jaffna. However, their independence was constantly under threat. For instance, one of our observers, a university student assigned to monitor the election in the Point Pedro Electorate, found himself pursued by the Navy. In honor of his bravery, it should be noted that during this time, many nights were spent by this young man hiding in the jungle, evading authorities.

The most significant aspect to remember, however, is that the voters of the North approached the election with a palpable sense of enthusiasm, joy, and a hidden pride. Despite continuous obstructions from the security forces, 485,813 voters cast their ballots, a remarkable 67.52% turnout. Yet, despite the North’s strong commitment to the democratic process, the politicians who came to power were unable to govern with unity. By the end of the Northern Provincial Council’s term, Sri Lankan politics had succumbed to its familiar ailment: party switching and betrayal.

This political turmoil culminated in the formation of a new political party, led by the Chief Minister who had been elected unopposed by the ruling party. C.V. Wigneswaran, dissatisfied with the existing political landscape, launched the “Thamizh Makkal Koottani” (Tamil Peoples Alliance) to challenge the long-established Tamil National Alliance (TNA), the political party that had long represented the Tamil-speaking people of the North and East. The founder of the TNA, R. Sampanthan, passed away recently, marking the end of an era.

Another crucial fact to consider is India’s gradual retreat from its earlier stance, when it was willing to support the provincial council system in Sri Lanka through the Indo-Lanka Accord. At that time, the Indian High Commission played an unofficial role as the guardian of the North. Even in the face of subtle insults from the Sri Lankan government, New Delhi remained a place where Northern politicians often sought refuge to voice their grievances. However, recent developments indicate a significant shift in India’s foreign policy. Maybe, the unexpected election victory of Anura Kumara Dissanayake (AKD) has caught not only the Northern politicians by surprise, but also India’s security and foreign policy advisors. Regrettably, Anura Kumara Dissanayake still addresses the North primarily from an emotional rather than a political standpoint, which complicates the broader political landscape.

While it is true that the people of the North are determined, the politicians there are no different from those in the South. In essence, they are brothers, sharing the same political flaws. If this were not the case, the Northern Provincial Council, which came into existence after a 24-year hiatus, could have been one of the most effective and successful in Sri Lanka’s history. Unfortunately, due to the ongoing crisis within internal party politics, mismanagement of government funds, and a host of other issues, the people of the North did not reap the full benefits of the Provincial Council.

Despite all the criticism, the people of the North owe a debt of gratitude to Mahinda Rajapaksa for holding the Provincial Council elections. While organizing elections is undoubtedly the responsibility of the ruling government, Rajapaksa’s decision to hold elections in the North, fully aware that he would likely lose, stands in stark contrast to Ranil Wickremesinghe’s approach. Wickremesinghe, who has long sought to share power, postponed the 2023 local government elections because he anticipated defeat. Moreover, for reasons unknown, he allowed the provincial council elections to disappear in 2017, and this failure continues to haunt him. To this day, we are still waiting for a date for the provincial council elections. As the Tamil saying goes, “Even the cotton tree growing next to the Goda Kaduru tree will burn” (Ettyudane Serndha Ilavum Thippattadu), a reflection of the lingering consequences of inaction.