Muhammad Ali understood the racist roots of war and militarism

farm start enjoying the perks of office – and steadily work to consolidate their power. Manipulating and controlling the new state for their own benefit, the pigs in time take on more and more of the ways of the humans they displaced – and the animals who fought with high hopes to establish a free and just society on the farm find themselves betrayed into even worse servitude by their new leaders.

At the end of the story the ruling pigs have become so much like the former human owner – wearing clothes, trying to walk on two legs and drinking whisky – that the reader is left in no doubt about Orwell’s satirical intent. He tellingly makes the point that even the most idealistic revolution, even a peaceful one effected through the ballot, can deteriorate in time so that the gullible masses find themselves betrayed and exploited by the very rulers they helped put into office.

I was musing about Orwell’s Animal Farm these last few days as I see more and more evidence of our present rulers betraying the ideals upon which they put themselves forward for election in 2015. Mahinda Rajapaksa, whatever good he did for our country by leading the nation to victory over the LTTE, had by that time squandered the goodwill of a grateful people – and was presiding over a regime that had established a reputation for corruption and nepotism, run by folk who viewed their time in office as an opportunity to plunder and feather their nests rather than an opportunity to serve and better the lives of the people.

All that, we gullible folk believed, would change when Maithripala Sirisena bravely challenged (some might even say ‘betrayed’) his leader – and was elected to office on the promise of Yahapalanaya or good governance.

But less than two years since the slogan of was coined, we see the same old rackets being perpetrated by the new rulers and their henchmen – the only difference being that those who cried “foul” when Mahinda’s people were up to these activities are now subverting any criticism and indulging in the very same activities themselves.

Three years ago we groaned under the weight of a huge taxpayer-funded cabinet of ministers. Today, we find that the number of ministers is no less than 90 - although I may be wrong, since the President is quite capable of having appointed a couple more since I wrote this article. Whether they are officially appointed as cabinet ministers, state ministers or deputy ministers, they all call themselves

– and they are all entitled to very comfortable salaries and perks.

And like Lakshman Kiriella has shown us, these perks extend to giving letters to “supporters’ recommending them for jobs as lecturers in universities – and appointing almost a hundred “co-coordinating secretaries” and over fifty “advisors” in his ministry. These jobs for his boys will all be paid for out of the taxpayers’ money. Perhaps these folk won’t have much to co-ordinate or advice at the ministry – but he probably hopes that all these people he provides appointments for will work for him when he next has to face an election.

I am sure that with the President’s need to win over those in his political party who at present appear to be favouring Mahinda Rajapaksa, there will be an opportunity for more wavering SLFPers to become recipients of ministerial positions – in fact Sri Lanka may well have a hundred ministers before long!

And if each minister appoints as many advisers as Lakshman Kiriella has done, we in this country might soon have about five thousand advisers in the many ministries that have mushroomed into existence!

The sad fact about our President is that for years he was someone who had never ever expected to even get halfway up the ladder of political greatness.

So now that he, through no great talent on his part (except perhaps the courage to challenge the powerful incumbent President) unexpectedly got propelled to the top, he has reached a stage where he appears to be too stunned to do anything further except regularly appoint more ministers in a move to ensure that he stays on in power.

And sadly for all of us who genuinely love this country, we are coming to realise that the very people who got rid of Mahinda Rajapaksa are gradually developing into an administration that, just like in George Orwell’s

is beginning to look and behave just like the administration they replaced.

Wracked with the tremors of advanced Parkinson’s disease, he held the torch high and stood tall – somehow with more grace, dignity, and power than any of that year’s athletes.

His incandescent presence that night made undeniably clear, once again, that the movements against war and racism that Ali so eloquently spoke for – and that he remained such an elemental and principled part of – had already succeeded in transforming public discourse, if not yet public policy, across the United States.

(Phyllis Bennis directs the New Internationalism project at the Institute for Policy Studies.)