Sri Lanka at the crossroads

THE 9th is an important date in recent Sri Lankan political history. On May 9, 2022, Mahinda Rajapaksa was forced to resign as Prime Minister after a bout of violence he and his supporters had initiated from his official residence backfired on a large scale. He had to flee into the protective custody of the Lankan navy in its most fortified base in eastern Sri Lanka. On June 9, another Rajapaksa sibling, the then Finance Minister Basil Rajapaksa, also had to resign amidst continuing massive protests over his handling of the deteriorating Lankan economy. Since then, protesters wanted President Gotabaya Rajapaksa out of power by July 9. Now, this goal seems to have been almost achieved.

The writing had been on the wall for over three months, but the President and the PM simply could not read it.

By 11:30 am on July 9, agitating but peaceful crowds were descending on Colombo’s Galle Face Green which they had renamed ‘Gota Go Gama’ (get lost, Gotabaya village). The open area was in front of the Presidential Secretariat at the gates of which protesters had camped for three months and in close proximity to the President’s House, the official residence of the President, and Temple Trees, the PM’s official residence. The people wanted both gone — the President, whom they thought, quite rightly, was woefully incompetent, and the PM, whom most people considered an untrustworthy deal-maker. Just outside Temple Trees, a makeshift agitation site had come up over the months, named ‘No-Deal Gama’ (no-deal village), indicative of the people’s mood against the unethical politics of deal-making across political parties that had come to typify Sri Lanka’s mainstream politics over the past 20 years. This practice was most clearly associated with the PM.

Before July 9 was over, three significant bastions of power with enormous political symbolism fell like dominos one after another, signalling a massive victory for the people’s movement in Lanka and a very decisive defeat of the vulgar dynastic politics the Rajapaksas had taken to a low so far not seen elsewhere in South Asia. The first to fall and to be occupied by the people was the President’s House when protesters in large numbers stormed the premises amidst relentless firing of tear gas shells and water cannons by the police as well as limited live shooting, which by the end of the day had injured over 50 people. This incident was very clearly linked with the mood of the people who collectively felt ‘enough was enough.’ But that mood was not clearly read by the President or the Prime Minister as well as their political groups even though all of them have been effectively in hiding and away from the public gaze for the past two months. With the news of the people’s occupation of the President’s House spreading rapidly, the next to fall was the Presidential Secretariat, which protesters had surrounded for over three months, forcing the President to work from his official residence. The storming and occupation spree continued with the protesters taking over the Temple Trees next.

Storming and occupation of such important bastions of power had not occurred any time before in Sri Lankan political history, not even at the height of its civil war. It is not that the government had not attempted to curtail all this. The previous night, the Inspector General of Police had imposed what is known as a ‘police curfew’ from 9 pm until further notice. It was an attempt to stop people from converging on Colombo as planned on July 9. It was called off early next morning after its illegality was flagged by the Bar Association of Sri Lanka and a warning was issued to the Inspector General by the Human Rights Commission of Sri Lanka. The government had also ordered the Indian Oil Company, the only entity still issuing fuel in the country, to stop distributing petrol and diesel until the 11th in an effort to cripple transportation services. Trains from regional towns such as Kandy, Matara and Galle were stopped for the same reason. But with a massive show of public will, people forced all illegally stalled trains to operate to Colombo, which was the main reason the crowds began to swell after noon on an unprecedented scale.

The writing had been on the wall for over three months, but the President and the PM simply could not read it. Now it has been literally thrown at their faces. The people’s resolve comes not from a specific political ideology but from the fact that the routine difficulties in Lanka are felt by everyone — from endless fuel queues to shortages and unaffordability of food, the exorbitant prices of medicines and the suspension of medical procedures. Before July 9 was over, the President in hiding had announced that he would resign on July 13 and the PM too has said that he will quit as soon as an interim all-party government and an acting President are installed. Under Lankan constitutional provisions, the acting President will have to be the Prime Minister, the Speaker of Parliament or finally the Chief Justice. All parties in Parliament have now agreed that it would be the Speaker, despite his close allegiance to the Rajapaksas. The protesters have made it very clear that they will not relent until these resignations are officially tendered and a new government is in place, including representations from protesting groups.

Sri Lanka’s dubious politics and its politicians are under public scrutiny as never before in its post-independent history. While a very important milestone of recent Sri Lankan history and politics was reached on Saturday and a new history will continue to evolve, this does not mean that Lanka’s pains will subside any time soon. But it will ensure that the main authors of this pain have been literally thrown out by the will of the people, sending a clear message to future politicians not to take the patience of the polity for granted for so long.