President with Sri Lanka in his grip braves resentment in search of votes
April 3, 2010 04:43 pm
First a helicopter passes low over the temple, then comes the motorcade. Two big black Mercedes, soldiers, a huddle of party-workers in luxury SUVs and, at a discreet distance, a large armoured vehicle covered by a green sheet.
With a clatter of temple drums and clarinets, the president, smiling beatifically, strides across the dusty courtyard and strips to the waist as is customary in many such places of worship. After combing his impeccable black bouffant, he disappears into the temple.
Mahinda Rajapaksa, 64, is on the campaign trail for the
second time almost in as many months. For his first public meeting he has
chosen the place where he has least support:
The next stop is a nearby Buddhist temple, and then the local sports stadium, where the president speaks and asks a modest crowd for their votes in next week´s parliamentary election.
His bouffant unaffected by the 38 degree heat or the breakneck pace of his tour, Rajapaksa pledges development, tells the audience that all Sri Lankans are “children of the same mother” and is gone. Another crowd and another meeting 50 miles away await.
The president cannot have expected a particularly effusive
welcome.
But if votes for Rajapaksa – who came to power in 2005 with
support from hardline Sinhalese nationalist parties and adopted an uncompromising
line on Tamil rights – are thin on the ground in
Rajapaksa won easily with 57.8% of the vote in January’s
presidential elections and the only question is whether his alliance will
obtain the two-thirds majority needed to push through wide-ranging
constitutional changes on polling day itself. The former small-town lawyer
looks certain to remain in power until 2017. In
To critics, Rajapaksa owes his continued hold on power to the misuse of state resources during the presidential campaign and to the systematic intimidation of any opposition. General Sarath Fonseka, the former army chief who stood for president in January, is in jail on charges of sedition and corruption, having been arrested soon after his defeat.
Critics also allege the president has improperly appointed his family members to senior office; one brother is his senior adviser, one the top defence official, one a minister, and his son is now standing for parliament.
A series of assaults on journalists – one was killed last
year – have been attributed to the government. Recently the pressure has become
less intense, journalists in
Rajapaksa has also been attacked for condoning or overlooking human rights abuses during the military campaigns which ended the Tamil Tiger separatists’ rule over much of the north and east of the country. The EU suspended trading privileges following charges that in the final months of the conflict civilians held as human shields by Tamil Tigers were killed by indiscriminate military shellfire. The president’s supporters deny allegations. And for the moment, they can afford to ignore them.
In places like Parakandeniya, a village 20 miles outside
Prasad Kumara, the village shopkeeper, says he is one of the few locals who support the opposition. He does so out of historical loyalty and because they are “clean-handed” people.
For most others, Rajapaksa is the man who won the war against the Tamil Tigers and who is bringing development. “The main thing is the war is over,” said Nanda Warnakulaarachchige, a social worker in Parakandeniya. “We were far from the front but we were scared even to go on the busses [after bombings]. Now there is security.”
Nuwarapaksage Ranthilaka, a day labourer who chops wood for timber dealers, there is not just the “great military victory” but “the roads and the subsidies for farmers”.
“There is a wrong impression in the west. There have not been any abuses. Only bad people have been killed or intimidated,” said Ranthilaka, 40. “Once we were stuck in our homes out of fear. Now it is relaxed. And look at how much better the roads are too.”
Rajapaksa’s heartland stretches in a broad swath through the
populous Sinhalese-dominated western and southern coastal and rural inland
areas, from above
Those who have watched Rajapaksa in action speak of his
talent – remembering names, joking with ordinary people, co-opting potential
enemies by bringing them into his 130-strong ministerial team. He is also one
of the very rare successful Sri Lankan politicians to come from beyond
Though from a longstanding political family, Rajapaksa plays on his “small town” image, preferring homely Sinhalese to English, wearing a trademark brown scarf and local robes and never Western clothes. When Ranthilaka the woodchopper declares that “the president understands the common people. He is the poor man’s friend”, his three colleagues nod their agreement.
Helped by a weak opposition and – according to local analysts – by western criticism which allows his supporters to promote him as defender of a small misunderstood nation against foreign governments and the local English-speaking “liberal elite” who are their allies, Rajapaksa knows how to play a crowd.
But some crowds are harder to play than others. In
Some are slightly apologetic. They say simply that as the
president is going to be in power for a “very long time” they might as well be
on the winning side. – (Jason Burke reports from