On Aug. 8, amid a global pandemic, Sri Lanka held its parliamentary elections. The Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna — led by former President Mahinda Rajapaksa — won by a landslide, securing two-thirds of the seats in [the parliament] (https://www.parliament.lk/en/election-2020/). While I was not shocked, I was deeply disappointed that a party which is complicit in the rise of Sinhalese Buddhist nationalism and is known to be authoritarian had once again been voted into power. I was also scared. My fear was rooted in the fact that by securing a supermajority, the SLPP now had the power to amend the Constitution of Sri Lanka. Less than a month later, on Sept. 3, my fears came true with the Gazette’s announcement of a proposed 20th Amendment.

The main aim of this proposed amendment seems to be to abolish key changes introduced by the 19th Amendment, which was hailed as an important step in establishing a more democratic framework of governance, one based on greater transparency and accountability of elected public officials, including the president. The [proposed 20th amendment] (https://www.cpalanka.org/a-brief-q-and-a-on-the-proposed-20th-amendment-to-the-constitution) seeks to re-establish the executive presidency in all its glory and reduce the prime minister and parliament to little more than observers.

Sri Lankans are still struggling to come to terms with the colonial legacy of ethnic polarization, especially in politics. The existence of a democratic state, one which aims to represent all its citizens and to hold its leaders responsible for the decisions they undertake, is a necessity if we are to ever reach the utopia of ethnic and religious harmony. The ability to make unilateral decisions on behalf of an entire country will derail any progress we have made so far, and the consequences of doing so will only allow history to repeat itself.

One does not need to be well versed in law to understand the implications of this new amendment, for it is a brazen declaration of the return of an authoritarian government. If this amendment were to pass, the appointment of members of independent commissions would occur under the sole discretion of the president. The current constitution prevented the politicization of such key government commissions by instituting a Constitutional Council, which was the representative of the pluralistic nature of Sri Lankan society, and whose recommendations had to be followed by the president. Furthermore, the 20th Amendment significantly reduces the powers of the prime minister, for the president now only has to listen to the recommendations of the prime minister in appointing and removing ministers, and is not obligated to adhere to said advice.

More frighteningly, however, the 20th Amendment allows the president to unilaterally remove the prime minister. The reintroduction of a type of law known as “Urgent Bills” also signals the return of a more dictatorial form of government, for the urgency of these bills is decided by the cabinet alone, and after the president refers it to the Supreme Court — which has only 72 hours to give its decision on the constitutionality of the proposed bill.

This proposed amendment is the latest development in what have been a tumultuous few years for Sri Lanka and partly draws its strength from the chaotic nature of Sri Lanka’s recent history. Proponents of the 20th Amendment cite various incidents such as the Constitutional Crisis of 2018 as evidence for the need to diminish political infighting which is seen as an inevitable consequence of the division of powers between the president and prime minister.

This crisis occurred when former President Maithripala Sirisena dismissed the incumbent prime minister and appointed former President and current Prime Minister, Mahinda Rajapaksa, as the prime minister in 2018. The country descended into chaos, the parliament was dissolved and the public attempted to grapple with the idea of having two concurrent prime ministers. Eventually, the Supreme Court ruled President Sirisena’s actions as unconstitutional, but the damage was done. Then came the tragic Easter Bomb attacks in mid-April, and while citizens were reeling from the shock of such an unexpected attack, mourning their dead and either contributing to or attempting to stem the tide of rising islamophobia, we learned that the government had been warned of this beforehand and had failed to take appropriate action. This only added to the distrust already entrenched between the public and government and the notion of concentrating power in a single body to ensure quick and effective decision-making seemed of paramount importance.

It is against this backdrop of a fractured and fearful society and a seemingly inefficient and incompetent opposition, that the Rajapaksas rose to power once again. Gotabhaya Rajapaksa was voted in as president in Nov. 2019, and as mentioned before, his older brother, Mahinda Rajapaksa, is now serving as our prime minister. Sri Lankans had tried, and failed, to achieve a better state of living through more democratic processes, and eagerly welcomed the return of a family whose name, Rajapaksa, is synonymous with power, authority and security to the vast majority of Sinhalese-Buddhists.

I understand those who want a strong and effective government, especially during a global pandemic. I understand the need to feel secure within one’s own country. But we should not have to sacrifice democracy for effectiveness. Doing so sets a dangerous precedent that authoritarian, single-handed decisions are best suited to serve the public interest. Given the pluralistic nature of Sri Lankan society, this mindset can be especially harmful and our own history attests to that. The truth, uncomfortable as it may be, is that under such a regime, safety and representation become a privilege granted to a select community and comes at the cost of relegating minority concerns to an inferior rank.

Effectiveness, while important, should not be the only barometer with which we judge the success of a political party in safeguarding our best interests. If there is no room for criticism and dissent, if there is a lack of representation of diverse and varied opinions, if the trajectory of our country depends on the experiences and decisions of a single individual, then we are a democracy only in name. And we should not have to compromise on our democracy in order to achieve tangible change.