A case for DDCs

For a brief moment this week, one felt that at long last there was once again a coming together of minds between former President Maithripala Sirisena and incumbent President Ranil Wickremesinghe when the former called for the reactivation of the District Development Councils (DDCs) and the latter agreed. But the rider from the latter came later.

In Parliament, the former President argued that the Provincial Councils need to be revamped. He said such a move would negate the colossal expenditure incurred in the nine provincial councils around the country and would lay emphasis on development – at the district level. In the five years, both of them were jointly at the helm of state affairs they were busy quarrelling resulting in a dysfunctional administration. That Government from 20152019 was unable to implement much of what a large majority of the people wanted.

The clarification from the President's Media Office stated that what the President meant was that the DDCs should be within the provincial councils. The President must not have wanted to torpedo his own initiative to give fresh legs to another round of talks on ethnic reconciliation scheduled for the week after the Budget debate ends.

DDCs were first introduced by President J.R. Jayewardene as a step towards devolution of power, essentially to the minorities. He added the 'development' word to the District Councils that his predecessor, Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake had tried to introduce in the 1960s which came a cropper following stiff opposition from nationalist forces.

On the northern parts of the country, across the palmyrah fences, agitation was mounting for federalism. The DDCs were a compromise but had a stillbirth when the very first election to them in 1981 was disrupted in Jaffna by elements in the ruling party. That put paid to devolution then and gave rise to a separatist movement.

The Provincial Councils, however, were forced down Sri Lanka's body politic by Indian intervention in the mid1980s and have proved to be an utter failure. In the North, the complaint is that they are an 'empty shell' with no real powers, while in the South, they are considered a stepping stone to separation, serving neither man nor beast, draining public funds, riddled with corruption and benefiting only the petty politicians and their parties, many of which vehemently opposed the system when it was introduced, now demanding elections for them. This is why Sri Lankan politics is so tragicomic at times.

It is time the Government together with the Opposition broke the shackles of the force-fed 13th Amendment and introduced what is appropriate for this country. Given the size of Sri Lanka, a district is the unit best suited for devolution. At least, that is what many feel. The fact that the original Provincial Council system envisaged a merged North and East Council, which was almost one-third of the entire country betrays the fact that it was anything but based on the principles of devolution. That in fact, it was the antithesis of it – part of the hegemonic agenda of its sponsor to have a puppet administration beholden to it in charge of a large chunk of Sri Lanka.

Local government councils are a 'different kettle of fish'. These are essential for the day-to-day lives of citizens. For years they were demarcated on a ward basis where each citizen knew his or her councillor who usually resided in the neighbourhood. The proportional representation (PR) system introduced more recently did away with that ageold contact. There is, however, some merit in the PR system in a political sense as it gives each council a better mix of political parties. Many now have adopted a hybrid model between the old and new systems.

Parliament has been straining over these electoral reforms. A Delimitation Commission seems the preferred option of recent governments to delay elections, first to increase the number of councillors to a bloated 8,000 for the 341 councils around the country, and now to halve it to 4,000.

Today, only a few enter public life starry-eyed to serve others. The majority of wannabe politicians see this as a lucrative occupation to serve themselves, not the public, something that has become the political culture of the modern day. The annual expenditure to maintain the additional battalions of 4,000 councillors is Rs. 778 million. And this is not counting the army of prospective provincial councillors awaiting elections as well.

Local Government elections, from municipalities to pradeshiya sabhas, are the battle cry of the Opposition and understandably so, as they sniff electoral successes due to the prevailing economic crisis. The Government is in no mood for any hustings right now. If the Opposition's demand is purely with the aim of victory at the local councils as a springboard for bigger elections, and successes down the road, rather than ensuring the country had a more efficient form of local administration, it defeats the purpose of representative democracy at the local level.

Delimitation Commissions must not be used as delaying tactics for the indefinite postponement of elections. Midterm elections are the norm in representative democracies and an important litmus test for the ruling party to gauge its standing with the people. Similarly, elections for the sake of elections without proper electoral reforms that are meant to fine-tune democracy at the grassroots and scoring political points is not the panacea for the country's immediate problems.

Maybe, just maybe, local government elections can be held together with those of the District Development Councils that the former and present Presidents agreed on. The fact that this country has four separate and costly national elections, viz., Presidential, Parliamentary, Provincial and Local Government in regular cycles is a colossal waste of public funds.