Was democracy in Lanka a game of tennis?
While awaiting the results of the most spiritless election campaign devoid of any excitement and hoping that the new cardboard ballot boxes have not been breached or substituted overnight wittingly or unwittingly, our thoughts went out to a slogan sounded in the background of the campaign: What has democracy contributed to Lanka since Independence? The question may seem to be academic but is pregnant with meaning.
Democracy has been likened by most sons and daughters of the soil to that elitist game, tennis, in which pukka sahibs clad in immaculate white kit from head-band to toe with forbiddingly expensive brand names or ladies displaying their athletic prowess and tantalising curves to scandalous limits, flick a ball from court to court. They have been doing that for 72 years and what have we got, the local-yokels and now some in the Pohottuwa party ask.
Sure, Lanka is not what it was in the glory days of Dutugemunu or Parakrama Bahu, Singapore of today or even what Cuba is to aged Castroists. But Lanka is still a democracy. Recall that for five years, students, thugs, learned academics, doctors, monks and others of various assortments took to the streets to oppose the establishment of a private medical school, braving tear gas, water cannon, baton charges. Weren’t they successful not only in scuttling a much-needed medical school but also toppling the ruling Yahapalanaya government in the process? What of those spunky women of Angulana, a short time ago, hurling stones on the rail track protesting the killing of an innocent victim of their community? Isn’t that a call for defence of human rights and freedom?
Democratic governments since Independence have survived two military coups, three armed rebellions, the last of which is called a ‘war’. That much vilified democratic process has prevented tinpot dictators in military uniform and jackboots, callow youth in guerrilla attire and automatic weapons in hand strutting about like Che Guevaras taking over this country.
‘National Security’ is now the prime byword in the country’s contemporary politics and the prime guardians of this security have been identified as the military. No doubt, the military forms an essential component of national security, but it is not the be all and end all of a nation’s security.
‘National Security’ involves a myriad of factors that are essential for the security of a nation. A particular aspect of this was the concern of Japan, a one -time world power still much embroiled in the geopolitics of the day. After World War II, Japan conceded many of what it considered to be in its national interests to the pressures brought on by the United States, but one such interest it did not surrender was food security. Despite the many attempts over the years for Japan to permit rice imports, it is still banned except in processed forms. The rationale for the Japanese policy for a ban on rice imports is that self- sufficiency in rice is food security. Besides, the Japanese believe that rice cultivation is a part of their culture.
This aspect of national security attracted us as the country was preparing for the parliamentary elections and Colombo Port workers went on strike, paralysing the port over the issue of handing over the Colombo Port’s Eastern Container Terminal to India. To those witnessing politics -- even before babies born after the celebrated ‘1956 Revolution’ -Colombo port strikes were of immense significance. A Colombo Port strike in the heydays of that revolution, we recall, resulted in queues of ships lined up from the port along the horizon disappearing somewhere between Bambalapitiya and Wellawatte.
It threatened national security mainly because most rice, our staple food was mostly imported. A port strike threatened starvation of the nation.
But the strike of August 2020 held no such national threat. Lanka was self-sufficient in rice! This country had under democracy overcome the greatest threat to our national security -- food security with the humble peasants -- goviyas.
They achieved what our kings of yore had done sans beating of Hewisi bands or today’s military bands.
Around 20 years ago, we crowned them as ‘Govi Rajas’—‘ kings when taken off the muddy paddies and washed off the mud’. Now the ‘Govi Rajas’ are forgotten and out of fashion.
There are the new war heroes -- Ranaviru. True, there are thousands of Ranavirus, those who have fought in the battlefields, died in the jungles and sands and those lucky to escape leaving parts of their anatomy behind. There are also ‘heroes’ who didn’t shoot with their guns but with their mouths. This is a land for heroes of many kinds.
The real fathers who laid the foundation of Lanka’s national security remain unsung as is the case of most genuine heroes.
They were the founders of democracy in Sri Lanka who in colonial times persuaded the colonialists to let them resuscitate ancient reservoirs and paddy lands. After Independence, their main thrust was for self- sufficiency in rice and this was relentlessly pursued by D.S. Senanayake, the father, son Dudley and lastly by J.R. Jayewardene. Solomon Dias Bandaranaike could not devote much time to agriculture being assassinated in two years. Sirima Bandaranaike spent more time on other matters but did inaugurate the Mahaveli Diversion from Polgolla to Bowatenne, plans of which had already been worked out by Dudley Senanayake. All in all, the UNP devoted much greater time in achieving self-sufficiency in rice than the SLFP that ruled for an equal number of years.
Under both parties, which were committed to democracy, the country achieved self- sufficiency in rice --a tremendous task.
In 1950, Lanka’s population was 7.9 million and today it is 21 million. These statistics speak for the massive achievement of the country under the two parties committed to democracy in achieving self- sufficiency in rice and food security, without which national security will not be possible.
This should be a resounding answer to those who doubt the efficacy of democracy. It is as enjoyable as tennis is but as tough and takes longer.
(Gamini Weerakoon is a former editor of The Sunday Island, The Island and Consulting editor of the Sunday Leader.)