Sarath Fonseka and parliamentary politics

Even his strongest critics will admit that Sarath Fonseka was THE MAN to lead the Army in the national effort to rid the country of the scourge of terrorism.  He was clearly a necessary element but certainly not a sufficient one.  He believes otherwise of course.  However if you imagine Fonseka as Army Commander during a Chandrika Kumaratunga presidency heavily under the sway of LTTE sympathizers disguised as federalists or under Ranil Wickremesinghe, you would quickly conclude that he would have been rendered impotent.  But he was THE MAN of THAT moment.  No debate there. 

After the successful conclusion of the campaign against the LTTE there was nothing to stop Sarath Fonseka from enjoying a retirement akin to that of the first Indian military leader to be conferred the rank of Field Marshal, Sam Hormusji Framji Jamshedji Manekshaw, better known as Sam Bahadur (Sam the Brave).  Nothing, that is, except himself.  He did get the title, he is considered a brave soldier, but Field Marshal Sarath Fonseka is certainly no Sam Bahadur.  You can blame politics for this, or rather Fonseka’s (probable) belief that what he knew of military engagements could be applied to politics.  He was naïve.  He paid the price for naiveté. 

Here’s a recap of his post-military political life:  Fonseka decided to run against a popular president and was backed by the UNP (and its leader) that knew the outcome was a foregone conclusion; Fonseka was unceremoniously and scandalously put behind bars immediately after the election and was thereafter dropped like a hot potato by those who backed his election campaign; Fonseka decided to contest the General Election believing in all likelihood that a chunk of the votes he received would be cast for his party; Fonseka tied up with the JVP and the results were utterly disappointing; Fonseka’s party fared even worse five years later.  Fonseka finally entered Parliament through a slot in the National List made vacant by the death of an MP. 

Six years after he entered politics, Sarath Fonseka has found his political maximum: a national list MP.  The ‘national list’ was unfortunately always a refugee camp for the politically displaced. His achievements as a soldier could get dulled by his record in politics.   He is no Sam Bahadur.

But that’s his problem.  There are claims that Fonseka, since he holds the lifetime rank of ‘Field Marshal’ cannot enter Parliament unless he ‘retires’ the rank, so to speak.  Indeed, some would argue that the rank should have been taken away the moment he submitted nomination papers for the General Election.   Perhaps it is respect and gratitude for services rendered as a soldier that is stopping the courts from being petitioned on this matter.  Considering the ‘credentials’ and abilities (or their lack) of the current set of Parliamentarians, Fonseka is certainly parliament-worthy.  No debate there.  He might recover some glory.  Indeed one hopes that he does. 

However, even as we wish Fonseka all the very best as a Parliamentarian, one has to question the wisdom of those who paved the way for him.  This is not because of who Fonseka is.  It has to do with the implications.

 Fonseka did not contest under the United National Party.  Let’s forget the fact that he said that Ranil Wickremesinghe doesn’t have a clue about the economy (“And Fonseka does?” did someone whisper?).  In politics one forgives and forgets.  However, Fonseka was a defeated candidate.

Maithripala Sirisena voluntarily wiped off quite a bit of the gloss of his victory and looked quite your run of the mill politician when he opened the ‘national list’ to defeated SLFPers.  The UNP leader, this time around, seemed determined to charter a better course.  However, with this decision regarding Fonseka, the UNP has shown that it is still comfortable with ‘same old, same old’.   

Human Rights Watch, that dodgy outfit, is opposed to Fonseka entering Parliament.  Given this Government’s servility to those who take such groups seriously (or lap up their rhetoric because they happen to be useful) this decision might cause some embarrassment, but that is not something that the general population will worry about.  Apart from the legal issues alluded to above, few if any will begrudge Fonseka’s right to be in Parliament.   The fact that he was rejected by the people will matter, though.  And that’s why the wisdom of the UNP’s decision has to be questioned.

What is the signal that the UNP (in its latest avatar – they went through ‘Dharmista Samaajaya’ in the 70s and 80s before they discovered ‘Yahapalanaya’) gives the electorate?  That the will of the people counts for nothing?  The ‘slot’ was obtained because the people voted for the UNP, not for Fonseka’s party.  Is the UNP telling us that political expedience is what matters, not the basic principles of democratic representation? 

The SLFP leadership (post-Mahinda) cannot find fault with Ranil of course.  

The UNP membership ought to, or else we will have to conclude that this ‘Yahapalanaya’ talk is hogwash and so too all the democracy-rhetoric, as far as that party is concerned. 

 The UNP has given a clear signal.  What’s most disturbing here is the fact that this ‘signal’ is not news.  If anyone had illusions about the UNP having turned over a new leaf, well it’s time to shed them.  Fonseka, unwittingly perhaps, has finally done something politically significant.