By Mohamed Harees –

Lukman Harees

“If we elect the same corrupt politicians every time, that’s an obvious message that we don’t want a change.” ― Sukant Ratnakar, Quantraz

A social media read ‘some deaths create shock and dismay; while some gives lessons’ The  horrific accident which killed both State Minister Sanath Nishantha and his Police body guard on the Katunayake Expressway appears to provide sombre lessons and reflections. The Minister’s vehicle had reportedly rammed a container which was driving ahead, resulting in the accident. As decent human beings, any tragic loss of life generally elicits shock and grief and ultimately the family particularly will have to bear the traumatic lacuna created thereby. While the gory details of the circumstances of his death dominated the social media, the impact of the passing of the Online Safety Act  in the Parliament he was part of, which  dealt a major blow to human rights in Sri Lanka was lost in the process. The fact that a  probe has been launched into the so-called defamatory social media posts on Sanath Nishantha’s death perhaps may bring back our attention to this drastic piece of legislation.

A controversial public figure and politician he was, Sanath Nishantha’s horrific death brought in mixed reactions from the public. In the social media, some were seen to be ‘celebrating’ or welcoming the death, which according to public decency norms, are both harsh and heartless. Also, doing so in public would be very bad too. But we don’t live in a totally polite society today; and besides politeness cannot be totally expected, especially in the aftermath of a severe economic crisis whose authors are the likes of  Sanath, his party and his political bosses. In my humble opinion, in the midst of the people’s frustration aligned with the battle to keep the wolf from the door, the polarization of parties and the crude level of public discourse the nation has fallen into, people are inclined to express their sincere feelings even in cruel ways and they cannot be blamed. As Clarence Darrow once said, “I have never killed any one, but I have read some obituary notices with great satisfaction.” Sanath Nishantha’s political track records  unfortunately gave plausible reasons for sections of the populace to act in that manner.

It was in 2020 that Gampaha Divisional Wildlife Officer Devanee Jayathilaka hit the news when she stood up to the then State Minister Sanath Nishantha, who was attempting to have government forest land released to build a children’s playground in Negombo. During the back and forth at that public meeting, one of Nishantha’s supporters barked back at Jayathilaka stating ‘we don’t need oxygen’, leading to the Minister earning the epithet ‘Oxygen!”

Politicians often fail to understand that they are not immortal, but act as if. They fail to earn public  confidence and make politics their conduit to earn for many generations , and thus there aren’t more than very few who will be remembered beyond their death. Once elected, they fail to put the nation’s interest  first. The political life of Sanath Nishantha reflected the fast decaying political culture in Sri Lanka, and he related to the ruffian political types  who tried to live by the sword. The likes of Prasanna Ranatunge, Johnston Fernando, Tissa Kuttiarachchi and Mahindananada Aluthgamage were his political compatriots and the phrase ‘birds of a feather’ fitted the clique well.  His life and his untimely death thus brings out many sombre lessons relating to the dirty political culture in this country.

He was also a close associate of Mahinda Rajapaksa family and he was in the news recently for having paid the hefty overdue electricity bill relating to Namal’s wedding ceremony. He was a fierce critic of the Aragalaya movement and in fact spearheaded the violent attacks on those protesting at the Galle Face on May 09th 2022, with the blessings of then DIG Deshabandu Tennakoon. Sanath Nishantha and Milan Jayathilake were among 22 politicians — including then PM Mahinda Rajapaksa and his son Namal — whose passports were impounded at that time following allegations that they instigated violence. He failed to understand the hungry pangs of the common man and their suffering. In a bankrupt country, with no electricity, no fuel, no medicines, no food, Nishantha and his thuggery gang failed to accept or understand the common man’s anger and their urgent need for basic relief. In October 2023, he was charged for contempt of court for having allegedly  tarnished the honour and image of the judiciary by expressing critical views on how the magistrates acted in granting bail to the suspects involved in the ‘Aragalaya’ protest movement. Many times, Sanath Nishantha was also involved in brawls inside Parliament and once even had to apologize to the Speaker for his unruly conduct.

A legacy of government corruption, nepotism, short-termism, poor economic management, and a crippling civil war have undermined the democratic norms and institutions of Sri Lanka. By falling short of the standards expected by the public, the rulers  have lost any remnants of trust left in their constituents, giving rise to social unrest and violent ways to resolve conflicts. The erosion of Sri Lanka’s democracy is both a product of the power vested in the Executive Presidency and a product of the subversive parliaments which were elected. Sri Lanka is one among a number of countries in Asia attracting legitimate concerns over the erosion of democratic institutions.

‘Politicians are crooks.’ This may be a cynical middle-class complaint, but it is also an empirical fact that more MPs with criminal records are being elected to Parliament than ever before. At the parliamentary level, a good number of MPs elected in 2019 face ongoing criminal cases, including serious crimes. Ironically, candidates implicated in wrongdoings appear to  do quite well at the polls. Their success has a chilling effect on those with clean records who might think twice about joining the electoral fray. As a result, the bad equilibrium perpetuates itself; politicians with questionable records are attracted to office while so-called “clean” candidates exit. Candidates with criminal records are disproportionately wealthy, so they have both the means to contest elections, as well as the incentives. Securing elected office appear to grant them some form of immunity; it also gives them a certain degree of protection while opening up a new set of money-making opportunities.

One of the most important takeaways from the corrupt and violent political culture, likes of Sanath were part of , was  that voters who support criminal candidates are usually well aware of their reputations. They are making rational, informed decisions when they enter the polling booth. In places where the rule of law is weak, which means that government is not able to carry out its most basic functions, and social relations between local communities are fraught, candidates can use their criminality as a sign of their credibility to “get things done” for their supporters. Racism is a political tool in Sri Lanka. If politics is viewed as a zero-sum game — that is, if another community wins, ours loses (or vice versa) — voters look for a representative who is willing to do whatever it takes to protect their group’s social status. How Gota came t power capitalising on the Easter Sunday agony was history.

Douglas Adams once wrote of a planet on which humans are ruled by lizard overlords. There’s a paradox: the planet is a democracy, the humans hate and outnumber the lizards and yet the lizards always get elected. It turns out the humans vote for the lizards for a simple reason: “If they didn’t … the wrong lizard might get in.” Researchers refer to three big problems. First, power is magnetic to corruptible people. Just about everywhere you look, the worst kind of people are drawn to gaining authority over others. That’s especially true for people with a particularly destructive psychological cocktail known as the dark triad: Machiavellianism, narcissism and psychopathy. Second, power does tend to corrupt. There’s plenty of research showing that decent, well-intentioned people frequently succumb to the corrosive effects of power. Third, we give power to the wrong people for the wrong reasons. Power is relational: you can’t be a leader without followers. We might wish to forget it, but many of the leaders we loathe most were elected by our fellow citizens — from Hitler and Papa Doc Duvalier to Hugo Chavez, Rodrigo Duterte and Trumps and also from our own Isle -JR, Mahinda to Gota.

Good systems attract good people, and rotten systems attract rotten people. Humans may have some destructive tendencies when it comes to wielding power, but we can counteract them with the right reforms. Political parties shouldn’t wait for corruptible people to put themselves forward. They should seek community leaders who have proven ability to behave with integrity. Better yet, recruit those who would see power as a burden rather than a calling. If we wait to see who steps forward, as we often do in modern society, we have only ourselves to blame when we end up with a power-hungry narcissist in charge. erhaps we should engineer systems that produce saviours instead of hoping that one will simply emerge. Otherwise we’ll continue to be stuck on our absurd Douglas Adams planet, doomed to live with his astute, but unfortunate, assessment: “It is a well-known fact that those people who most want to rule people are, ipso facto, those least suited to do it … anyone who is capable of getting themselves made president should on no account be allowed to do the job.”

Over the last two decades, Rajapaksas and their enablers and accomplices like Sanath Nishantha’s have honed the arts of playing dirty to such an extent that they’ve become almost normalized, encouraging a politics that’s rooted in the worst aspects of ourselves like greed, fear, racism, misogyny, violence, personal corruption and the deliberate erosion of democracy and civic norms. While much can be done to incentivize good behavior though stronger rules and regulations, this won’t be enough without a deeper change (political cultural change) in how we see and practice politics – and how we see elect our public representatives.

Experts have argued that voter disinterest is detrimental to the quality of democracy, and urged for stronger emphasis on civic education and social engagement. Research results also suggest one concrete avenue where greater political attentiveness may produce clear benefits – greater sanctioning of politicians who misuse public office for personal or political gain. There is hope, given what transpired after the Aragalaya in 2022, that the public activism is more likely than has been previously thought to make decisive changes in the political culture  and also turn corrupt politicians out of office. On the other hand, insofar as opinion leaders and members of the media represent the viewpoints of the wealthy, citizens may not gain access to the information that they need in order to know who is and is not corrupt.

Our country is broken. For too long politicians have chosen the interests of big business over ordinary people and their petty personal interests over nation’s interest. The next election is a crucial turning point for Sri Lanka. Elections are a chance to vote for better policies – and hold leaders to account. Ahead of that there are plenty of opportunities to influence the issues that each political party will prioritise. Cleaning up the stables in the political backyard should be a priority. In the run-up to an election, all parties will be listening to voters to see what is important to them. This is how they develop their manifestos – the collection of policies they commit to delivering if they form the next government. The death of Sanath Nishantha should make us think and reflect on the imperative need to avoid creating more of his political likes and kind while also committing to clean up the dirty politics in this country, long suffering from bad and corrupt governance. Perhaps it will serve well to his memory.