5th Column

My dear Mahinda maama,

I am writing to send you belated birthday wishes as you celebrate your 80th birthday. I thought I would see you at Nugegoda because you said in Kandy that you would attend, but you weren’t there. Here’s hoping many more years of health and happiness because, at your age, that is what really matters!

Honestly, Mahinda maama, I was surprised when you said in Kandy, while attending a ‘pooja’ at the Dalada Maligawa, that you will ‘definitely’ be there at Nugegoda. It was only a few days ago that you told us that you wouldn’t attend because you didn’t want to disappoint those visiting you at ‘Carlton’.

Of course, we all know that is not the real reason. Nugegoda was to be all about Namal, his coming of age politically, so to speak, after the rude rebuff he got from voters at the last big election where he got just two and a half per cent of the vote. So, why would you want to attend and steal his thunder?

As you celebrate 80 years, Mahinda maama, you must be looking back at your life. It is a good time to look at the many phases – and the many faces – you showed us from the time you began your political journey 55 years ago, as a young 24-year-old entering Sirima’s government.

Making your maiden speech as the ‘Baby of the House’, you were ‘Mahinda’ instead of ‘Percy’ or ‘Mahendra’. Was this a sign of things to come, that you showed us what we wanted to see, instead of the real you? Back then, the better-known Rajapaksa was your cousin, Fisheries Minister George.

You were swallowed up in JR’s landslide in ’77. We didn’t hear much of you for the next 12 years until you returned to Parliament. Then, Preme was at the helm. You made a name as a rebel and a rabblerouser, carrying petitions against the government to Geneva about human rights violations.

I don’t know whether you had ambitions of reaching the top at the time, because you were in the Blue party where the leadership was a family heirloom passed on from one ‘B’ to another. My guess is that you would have been happy being No. 2 to the ‘B’ you thought would inherit it, Crown Prince Anura.

Your bond with Anura however meant that Satellite never trusted you. As fate would have it, it was she who inherited the crown. She accommodated you only because she had to, giving you subjects like Labour and Fisheries. You still managed to emerge as a force to reckon within the Blue party.

As the end of her second term neared, Satellite had to choose a PM. The story goes that she wanted Kadir for the job. Even the rathu sahodarayas endorsed him. Being street-smart, you mobilised those in saffron robes to lobby on your behalf. Satellite caved in, a decision she probably regrets to this day.

The crunch came 20 years ago, as Satellite ended her two terms. The Blues needed a candidate. You elbowed out Anura. Many felt Satellite allowed you to, because she thought you would lose to Uncle Ranil. You didn’t. That is another story, told by Tiran as to why the North and East didn’t vote.

Critics say you too initially wanted peace with the Tigers and had to be pushed into going to war. Still, Prabha erred when he preferred you to Uncle Ranil. Once you went to war, there was no turning back with Gota and Sarath. The rest, as they say, is history. After you won the war, the nation adored you.

Then, you blundered. You felt winning the war was a blank cheque to do as you pleased. You threw Sarath in jail and sacked Shirani. You changed the Constitution, for you to have a third term. Basil was given the economy. Chamal was Speaker. With Namal in Parliament the family tree was growing.

You wouldn’t have expected to be sent packing to ‘Carlton’ by Aiyo Sirisena at the end of your second term by the people who were sick and tired of the nepotism, cronyism and corruption in your time. However, the promised ‘yahapalanaya’ became a circus and you were back as PM four years later.

You tried to make up for lost time. Five ministers had the same surname. You laughed it off, asking ‘If the people want them, what can I do?’. Gota maama, inexperienced in politics, began to stumble. He eventually fled. You were lucky not to be found at Temple Trees before running away to Trincomalee.

The peoples’ anger, bottled up over the alleged misdeeds of those with the ‘R’ name and their cronies erupted in the ‘aragalaya’. You went from being ‘Mahinda mahaththaya’, ‘Appachchi’ and ‘Maha Rajaneni’ to a mere ‘Mayina’. Worse still, you had to invite your arch-rival, Uncle Ranil to take over.

That wave of discontent against major parties swept the ‘maalimaawa’ into power, for which you are therefore in a sense, responsible. The ‘R’ name, once the most popular in politics, is Namal’s biggest liability now. You have come a full circle to where your path to the top really began, in the opposition.

Mahinda maama, I was relieved not to see you at Nugegoda. At 80, you should be enjoying your life with a ‘kurakkan thalapa’ and fish ‘ambulthiyal’ at Medamulana. Your place in history is assured for having ended the Eelam war. Sadly, it is what happened thereafter that will spoil that achievement.

Yours truly,

Punchi Putha

PS: It is so sad to see you at ‘Carlton’ day in and day out, greeting those who visit you. We know you badly want Namal to emulate you but he should do so on his own, not because of whose son he is. This is a malady that seems to affect all presidential offspring. You know who else I have in mind!