THERE was a loud cheer of relief and joy from my Sri Lankan friends when the results of last week’s general elections indicated that ex-president Mahinda Rajapakse’s attempt to return to power had failed. Despite losing the presidential election last January against Maithripala Sirisena — the health minister in his cabinet, and secretary general of the ruling party, the Sri Lanka Freedom Party — Rajapakse supporters had hoped to garner enough parliamentary seats to propel him to the prime ministership.

Rajapakse had called the presidential election well over a year before it was due partly because he thought he would coast to victory over his expected rival, Ranil Wickremesinghe. In the event, the opposition pulled a fast one by persuading Sirisena to abandon his long-time boss and run as the presidential candidate. This split the ruling party, and threw the Rajapakse camp into disarray because Sirisena was more acceptable to rural Sinhalese — the president’s core constituency — than the urban, sophisticated Wickremesinghe who has always been seen as part of the Colombo elite.

But having won a handy majority, Sirisena was unable to deliver on a number of promises. His ‘100-day agenda’ always seemed far too ambitious. In particular, he was unable to prove any of the corruption charges he had made against the ruling family and their cronies. However, he did succeed in shedding the powers accumulated under the ‘executive presidency’ decades ago, making the prime minister the chief executive.

Since those heady early days of the Sirisena presidency, his government has struggled to meet the public’s expectations. Infrastructure projects, mostly with Chinese funding and being built by Chinese firms, ground to a halt as corruption charges were investigated. The resultant unemployment gave credence to Rajapakse’s claim that his efforts to build the country were being undermined.

Another policy change the ex-president exploited cynically was Sirisena’s effort to bring the disaffected Tamils of the north and the east into the mainstream. He returned some of the Tamil land that had been requisitioned by the army during the civil war, and held out the promise of a reconciliation. Rajapakse accused his successor of playing with the country’s security by permitting a resurgence of Tamil separatism.

During the interregnum between the January and the August elections, there was a steady stream of Rajapakse supporters who arrived at his southern hometown of Tangalle to pay homage. Those exulting in his defeat were quickly reminded that despite being beaten, he had won 47pc of the popular vote. The bulk of his support came from rural Sinhalese who saw him as a war hero for having ended the decades-long civil war once and for all.

However, he had alienated Muslim and Tamil voters to the extent that they were willing to vote for anybody but Rajapakse. By refusing to extend a hand to the Tamils in the wake of victory, and by allowing an extremist Buddhist organisation to attack mosques and Muslim businesses, he permitted deep divisions in a country that had earlier been a model of religious harmony. Last Monday, too, the minorities voted for candidates who did not support Rajapakse.

Nevertheless, he remains a popular, street-smart and charismatic politician who cannot be written off just yet. After all, his supporters have 95 seats out of a total of 225, 18 short of a majority. Unlike Pakistan, a legislator can switch sides at will, allowing for horse-trading on a monumental scale. Rajapakse had a cabinet of around a hundred, just so he could please as many MPs as possible. Given these unpalatable facts, it would not be impossible for somebody with Rajapakse’s powers of persuasion to induce 18 members to cross over to him.

Meanwhile, Sirisena and his prime minister, Wickremesinghe, have a mountain to climb. International demand for tea and rubber — Sri Lanka’s principal exports — has fallen. External debt stands at over 50pc of GDP. And although petroleum prices have fallen, the country has no oil, gas or coal reserves, and therefore has to import these commodities.

Under Rajapakse, foreign policy was skewed towards China, a country that was uncritical of Sri Lanka’s human rights record. Western countries, on the other hand, had been widely critical of the perceived massacre of Tamils at the end of the civil war, as well as the treatment of journalists and opposition figures. In fact, Rajapakse’s younger son is being investigated over allegations that he ordered the murder of a popular rugby player.

The new government will need fresh sources of foreign investment, and will need to review some of the populist policies from the past that discouraged outsiders from investing. One of these banned foreigners from owning property in the country. This shook investor confidence and caused the property market to fall. Already, the Board of Investment has announced a review of this policy.

Whatever the economic repercussions of the momentous changes that have taken place in the island this year, it is certain that it will be a much more relaxed place than it has been under Rajapakse. Already, the media has been freed from the constant threats it was under. Hopefully, the beating and bullying — and even murders — of journalists is now a thing of the past.

One way to ensure that Rajapakse does not make life in parliament difficult for this government would be to expedite the investigation of corruption charges against him and his family. The Times recently carried a suggestion that a quiet deal not to pursue these allegations could result in Rajapakse’s retirement from politics.

His career is a reminder that charismatic politicians in our part of the world are not necessarily good for their countries.

Published in Dawn, August 24th, 2015

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