Constitutional
questions
"Whither
Sri Lanka's Representative Democracy?" By Dr. Chandra Dolawatte
Reviewed by R.S. Karunaratne
S ri Lanka is in a state of flux as far as the constitution
is concerned. We are still trying to find the most suitable constitution
for our country even after 50 years of Independence. It is in this
scenario that Dr. Chandra Dolawatte has come forward to explain
the constitutional problems we are facing and how to solve them.
Being an economist
of international repute Dr. Dolawatte has been a keen observer of
the constitutional development of Sri Lanka. In "Whither Sri
Lanka's Representative Democracy? - A People's Manifesto" he
suggests various reforms to the existing constitution rather than
replacing it with a totally new system. His suggestions for reform
come in a logical sequence.
He first gives
us an overview of the constitutional developments from colonial
times to the present era. Instead of narrating the incidents in
chronological order, he interprets them, seeing a pattern of emerging
political society even before we became an independent nation.
In the second
part of the book Dr. Dolawatte brings the present electoral system
under the microscope and critically comments on the merits and demerits
of the first-past-the-post system and the multiple-member constituencies.
In the third
part of the book the author discusses the possible reforms that
could be brought about to the existing preferential voting system,
bonus seats and the national list.
Chapters 3
and 4 are the most important as they deal with the voting system
and the principle of preference and internal party politics in a
democracy. Upholding the preference system of voting, introduced
to Sri Lanka in 1983, the author says that it has added a novel
feature to the sound democratic principle. The scope of arbitrariness
and considerations of personal allegiance have been reduced considerably
under the new system.
One criticism
levelled against the preferential voting system is that it sows
the seeds of internal disunity within political parties, but the
author contends that internal conflicts in a party can arise due
to many other reasons. He says a true democracy welcomes dissent
while keeping the doors open to transparency and freedom of expression.
Among the reforms
suggested by the author are vote transferring from parties adversely
affected by the "cut off" to other parties which should
be effected according to the wishes of those who cast their votes.
In the final analysis, Dr. Dolawatte's book is a thought provoking
dissertation for everybody who wants to preserve democracy in its
pristine form.
Neville Jayaweera recollects their university days together
Mervyn de Silva, the undergraduate
Nineteen forty nine, the year that Mervyn de Silva and I
entered university at Thurstan Rd, was still the best of times.
The 1956 dawn was not yet casting a shadow and at the premier seat
of learning, our only university at the time, the old order reigned
absolute. Even though it was within the Oriental Faculty that research
of any substance was being done, it was the Arts Faculty that set
the tone and dominated the university's landscape.
Within the
Arts Faculty itself, it was principally E. F. C. Ludowyke, Professor
of English and J.L.C. Rodrigo, Professor of Western Classics who
exercised dominance over the minds of undergraduates. Of the two,
it was Ludowyke who was the cynosure and catalyst.
The Ludowyke
mystique
There was a mystique about Ludowyke and the English department.
It was upon
this scene that a clutch of outstanding students from Royal College
arrived in 1949. Among them was Mervyn. From his first day at university
Mervyn stood out like a sore thumb. His loping walk, his half-sneering
chuckle, but most all his humour and biting wit. He was obviously
gifted with an intelligence and a sensibility of a high order, but
as a counter point, he also seemed to lack an inner cohesion, appeared
to be burdened by a pervasive diffidence and had a total aversion
to discipline. These qualities more than any other defined the Mervyn
of the university days and progressively it was the latter that
came more and more to define the essential Mervyn.
This lack of
inner cohesion, manifesting outwardly as a rebellion against discipline
and authority eventually cost Mervyn the legitimate fruits of his
intelligence, his talents and his university career. His intellectual
excellence and high sensibility should have easily earned him a
First Class but eventually he had to wait on the benevolence of
the Vice Chancellor just to be allowed to sit the final exam!.
Fifty something
years on, my memory of the four years I shared with Mervyn as an
undergraduate, even allowing for the enormous amends he made later
in life as Sri Lanka's leading English journalist, critic, satirist
and political commentator, still fills me with sadness. Mervyn had
a fine sensibility and a good mind. He could not only respond to
literature with a deep sensitivity and use language with a remarkable
clarity and to great effect, but could also exercise his mind on
diverse issues, be they politics, art or philosophical abstractions.
However, lacking the discipline systematically to pursue or build
on these interests, he seemed to drift into a comfortable dilettantism.
The "cut
table"
The disquiet within him soon began to manifest in diverse ways.
He started cutting lectures, would rarely submit tutorials and was
seen to be dropping out rapidly. Very quickly he fell from grace
with Lyn Ludowyke, Herbert Passe and Doric de Sousa and barely scraped
through in the First Exam. He spent most of his time at the "cut
table" as they called it, a small group of like minded students
who would gather in a corner of the Junior Common Room in the premises
of College House and play a game of cards for stakes, called "asking
hitting". I believe it was essentially a mug's game, hardly
the place one would expect someone whose mind was being shaped by
Mssrs F. R. Leavis and I.A. Richards to be frequenting.
During the
three years we spent at Thurstan Rd or even during our final year
up at Peradeniya, I do not recall seeing Mervyn in the reference
library. Neither do I recall him carrying a book except a much soiled
and crumpled exercise book, which purported to be lecture notes.
There was nothing about his habits at that time to suggest the voracious
reader he grew into later in life. On the other hand, while he did
not not appear to me to be a great addict of books while at university
he had obviously read widely and deeply before he came to Thurstan,
as his accomplishments at Royal College would testify.
As he drifted
away from the academic main stream Mervyn began to develop a supercilious
and sneering attitude, not only towards those of us who approached
our studies seriously but even more towards his teachers. Seriousness
of any kind, whether in academic work or towards life in general
he disdained. There was hardly anyone whom he did not hold in derision,
quite openly laughing at his lecturers and being iconoclastic even
towards the great guru, Lyn Ludowyke himself.
Shanti, his
best friend, was fearful for his own progress in the department
because he was hoping to get a First Class and pass into the Civil
Service. Falling foul of Ludowyke because of his friendship with
Mervyn did not seem the best way for him to set about it. Mervyn's
friendship with Shanti was perplexing because in many respects they
were complete opposites. On the other hand, one suspected that Mervyn
needed Shanti's friendship precisely for that reason. Mervyn was
already beginning to savour politics, even if it was only university
politics. In 1952 he ran for editor and no one would think of contesting
him, so undisputed was his claim to the post. The 1952 issue of
the Union magazine produced by Mervyn was reviewed in the Daily
News by Godfrey Gunatilleke of the Civil Service as the best journal
that had been produced by the university students body.
Along with
Felix Dias (as FDB was then known) and myself, Mervyn also came
to be a regular member of the university's debating team. He was
unwilling to be worsted in debate and had an incurable abhorrence
of playing second fiddle to anyone. He disliked Felix enormously,
a feeling that Felix reciprocated in full measure.
Move to
Peradeniya
When the time came for the university to move up to Peradeniya
in 1952 we were given the option of choosing our own room mate which
was an excellent arrangement. I was overjoyed when Shantikumar Phillips,
Mervyn's buddy, sought me out and asked whether we could share rooms,
to which I readily assented. Thus it was that Shanti and I came
to be first occupants of Room 58 in Jayatilleke Hall. Rather naively
we thought we had found a safe haven from where to pursue our studies,
but we were mistaken. Shanti and I had developed a tight work schedule
which required at least eight hours of study in our rooms. However
we found that keeping this schedule was proving increasingly difficult
because Mervyn would barge in at anytime and completely disregarding
our feelings would hang around for hours. We had a whistling electric
kettle in our room and tea and coffee at hand. No sooner the kettle
started to whistle Mervyn would come knocking on our door and would
not go away until he had consumed several cups of coffee. Simultaneously,
we noticed that Mervyn was disintegrating rapidly. Things were falling
apart and the centre was not holding. It was as if some malevolent
power had laid hold of him and was driving him to destruction.
He had stopped
attending lectures and had set up a "cut table" in a garage
somewhere on the campus and about three months before the final
exam was told that he would not be allowed to sit the exam. The
news had reached his fiancee Lakshmi who hastened up to Peradeniya
to take control.
Lakshmi came
to see Shanti and me and pleaded with us to help her get Mervyn
back on the rails which of course we said we would. I believe Lakshmi
also spoke to Ludowyke and the Vice Chancellor and persuaded them
to let Mervyn sit the exam which they did. Lakshmi was a woman of
deep Roman Catholic faith (Mervyn was an agnostic) and it was probably
her faith that enabled her to sustain Mervyn during those months
of deepening crisis. Much to our admiration she looked after Mervyn
with a deep maternal devotion and in later life I am told that it
was she who helped Mervyn to re-integrate and make it through life.
(To be contd. next week)
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