(Continued from Feb. 08)

Although the die had been cast, the next event was a pusillanimous attempt, even the purpose of which was shrouded in doubt and conjecture. This was a tentative legislative step in the form of the District Developments Councils Act of 1980. The legislation was preceded by the appointment of a Presidential Commission, which was presided over by Mr. Victor Tennekoon QC, a former Chief Justice and Attorney General, and comprised a membership of four Sinhalese, three Tamils, and three Muslims.

At the initial stage itself, lack of courage was demonstrated in the reluctance to include in the Terms of Reference any allusion to the ethnic conflict. This gave rise to an irreconcilable difference of opinion among the members as to the nature and scope of their mandate. Hardline opinion within the government precluded direct reference to the ethnic dimension. But some of the members of the Commission, including Professor A. J. Wilson, a close confidant of President J. R. Jayewardene and son-in-law of the leader of the Federal Party, Mr. S. J. V. Chelvanayakam, had secured informal agreement with the President that the government would be well disposed to consideration of broader issues having a bearing on the ethnic conflict, should these be addressed in the contents of the report. This was, however, strongly resisted by the majority of the members who were inclined to adopt a narrow, technical interpretation of the Terms of Reference.

In the end, the report of the majority tended to have an exclusively administrative focus. The thrust of the recommendations had to do with making district administration more receptive to the needs of the people in the 25 administrative districts, and improving the quality of services delivered to them through the instrumentality of District Development Councils. The main levers for effecting this purpose were the Councils themselves and the District Ministers. Elected DDC members, joined by members of Parliament from the district, formed the composition of the Councils. The District Minister, as the principal repository of executive power in the district, had the role of coordinating the functions of all central government institutions operating in the district.

Even from the limited perspective of streamlining the administrative machinery at district level, this proved, across the board, an exercise in futility, even though there were some positive features. Obvious blemishes marred critical aspects of the enacted law, for example, vesting in the President, rather than in the membership of the Council, responsibility for appointment of the District Minister. In any event, the Councils were seriously hamstrung by both pecuniary and institutional constraints. There was no political will to allocate financial resources, and the prevailing culture of patronage inhibited Ministers and officials at the Centre from genuine transfer of authority to the district tier. The impact of the legislation, by and large, was negligible.

The true issues, however, lay elsewhere. The context of the legislation was one in which Tamil formations, such as the Tamil United Liberation Front, were struggling to maintain their moderate postures in an increasingly polarized environment, with pressure from radical elements proving almost irresistible. Two members of the Commission, Prof. A. J. Wilson and Dr. Neelan Tiruchelvam, in their dissenting report, tried to find space, at least interstitially, in a situation where the province could not be identified realistically as the unit of devolved power, to use the district development structure in the North and the East as an intermediate mechanism to allay minority apprehensions and to hold extremism at bay. It was an uphill task, further compounded by two Muslim members of the Commission, in a different dissenting report, expressing the polar opposite view, hostile to ampler devolution on the ground of perceived harm to Muslim interests. Fissures and divisions within the polity were manifested by the resolve of the major Opposition party, the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, to distance itself entirely from the work of the Presidential Commission.

This unpromising backdrop produced a result which was seen largely as a non-event. This paled into insignificance in comparison with a sequence of tragic events which pushed themselves to the centre of the stage. These included the burning of the Jaffna Library during the run-up to the District Development Council elections in the North, and the events of Black July, 1983, which gravely scarred inter-communal relations for a long time. Policymakers at a critical juncture had once again let a limited opportunity slip through their fingers.

ZENITH OF INDIAN INTERVENTION

The next few years typified the high point of Indian intervention. The story of the Thimpu Principles, the IndoSri Lanka Accord, and other connected developments is chronicled in the substantive chapters of this work.

MANGALA MOONESINGHE SELECT COMMITTEE OF PARLIAMENT

In the sunset years of the United National Party administration, yet another attempt was made “to arrive at a political solution to the question involving the devolution of power to the Northern and Eastern Provinces” and to rein in terrorist connected violence. This was the Parliamentary Select Committee on the Ethnic Conflict, appointed in August, 1991. There were several novel features in this endeavour.

First, in contrast with initiatives typically resorted to by the executive arm of government, this was an attempt by the legislature. Consisting of 45 Members of Parliament, drawn from across the political spectrum, this was one of the largest Select Committees appointed by the Parliament of our country. Its chair was Mr. Mangala Moonesinghe, a Member of the Opposition. It deliberated for two years and had 49 meetings. Its outcome was the submission of several reports— the Majority Report, to which the United National Party, the Sri Lanka Freedom Party, the Sri Lanka Muslim Congress, the Communist Party of Sri Lanka and the Lanka Samasamaja Party subscribed, a dissenting report of seven Tamil political parties, and a further dissent by Mr. Dinesh Gunawardena of the Mahajana Eksath Peramuna.

Second, there was a substantial convergence of approach between the two major parties, the Sri Lanka Freedom Party and the United National Party, on the contours of devolution acceptable at the time. Departing from antagonistic attitudes typical of the recent past, there was a measure of agreement about the desirability of a federal constitution and the need for more generous devolution of power.

Third, the Majority Report of the Committee made a detailed proposal which was intended to serve as the foundation of a compromise between two schools of thought— one, stoutly resisting any idea of merger of the Northern and Eastern Provinces, and the other demanding such merger as the indispensable basis of a viable solution. An imaginative via media, although somewhat hazy at the edges, was the concept of the Apex Council which formed the centerpiece of the Majority Report. Formulated in a Concept Paper and further refined in an Option Paper, it adopted as a point of departure two separate Provincial Councils for the North and the East. This dichotomy would characterize the provincial executive as well: each Provincial Council would have an Executive Minister as the head of the Board of Ministers. However, over and above these, the two Provincial Councils together would constitute a Regional Council for the entire North East region.

When the two Provincial Councils met together to discuss matters relating to the region as a whole, they would constitute themselves as the Regional Council. The Regional Council would be headed by a Chief Minister for the entire region, the two Executive Ministers functioning in rotation. The two Provincial Boards of Ministers meeting on matters pertaining to the region would be designated the Regional Board of Ministers. There would be a Regional List and a Provincial List, and legislative functions were to be exercised by the Regional Council for the region with respect to those functions set out in the Regional List. The Provincial List would contain matters such as land, finance, and law and order, and the Regional List would apply to such matters as planning and economic development.

There would be a single Governor for the region, and the rights of minorities would be guaranteed by the Constitution. Legislation passed by the Regional Council would not be operative in the Province until it was approved by the relevant Provincial Council.

Although presenting several features of interest as a pragmatic mediating mechanism, the proposal did not enjoy a sufficiently broad support base to be capable of implementation. In any case, there was no indication of commitment by the Presidency and the Government. Indeed, during the pendency of the Mangala Moonesinghe Committee, the Government of President Ranasinghe Premadasa passed incompatible legislation. The effect of the Transfer of Powers (Divisional Secretaries) Act of 1992 was to vest in divisional secretaries powers which had previously been exercised by the Government Agents. This was, arguably, an insidious attempt to claw back to the Centre powers exercised as a matter of practice at the periphery, thus undermining the direction and thrust of the Mangala Moonesinghe Committee proposals.

KUMARATUNGA’S ACCESSION TO POWER AND THE JAFFNA TALKS

The election of Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga, first as Prime Minister and then as President in 1994, marked a significant event in the politics of the Island.

Kumaratunga’s identification as the dove of peace, evoking emotive responses especially in the North of the country, was a powerful element of the imagery at a time when a war weary mood had gripped the nation. This was effectively captured in Kumaratunga’s message to the country soon after her victory at the Parliamentary election: “The verdict of our people in the recent elections leaves me in no doubt of the depth and intensity of their desire and commitment to peace. This must be, however, peace with honour, for both parties to the conflict, for it to be strong and durable.”

Unfortunately, this pervasive feeling of euphoria did not last long. In retrospect, the reasons for this are worth reflection.

There is no doubt that one of the priorities of the new government was peace negotiations with the LTTE. There were four rounds of talks in Jaffna over a period of six months. The first letter from Kumaratunga to Prabhakaran was written on September 2, 1994, and the initial round of talks took place on October 13 and 14. The final letter from Prabhakaran, signifying the irretrievable breakdown of the negotiating process, was dated April 18, 1995.

Failure of this phase of the talks is attributable to a number of causes:

I The structure of the process discouraged systematic progress. Although there were face-to-face meetings between the two delegations at regular intervals, the critical component of the process consisted of an exchange of letters over the entire period. Some of these letters were exchanged between Kumaratunga and Prabhakaran, but, for the most part, the signatories were Kusumsiri Balapatabendi, at the time Secretary to the Prime Minister, or Anuruddha Ratwatte, Deputy Minister of Defence, on the Government side, and S. P. Tamilselvan, Head of the Political Wing, on behalf of the LTTE. This epistolary medium of communication was profoundly unsatisfactory: it provided no scope for a meeting of minds to discuss complex issues in depth and with sincerity.

II The level of the government delegation gave rise to deep disappointment on the part of the LTTE. Kumaratunga nominated four representatives—Mr. K. Balapatabendi, Secretary to the Prime Minister; Mr. Lionel Fernando, Secretary to the Ministry of Information, Tourism and Aviation; Mr. R. Asirwatham, Chairman of the Bank of Ceylon; and Mr. N. L. Gooneratne, Chairman of Design Consortium Limited. Three other members were inducted into the delegation as the talks continued. These were the Right Reverend Bishop Kenneth Fernando, Dr. Jayadeva Uyangoda, and Mr. C. Abeysekara. The LTTE complained bitterly that “the nominees were personal emissaries or confidants of the President, who lacked professional experience in peace negotiations, nor did they possess any political authority to make decisions”. In correspondence with the status of the government delegation, the LTTE nominated as their representatives Mr. K. Karikalan, Deputy Head of the Political Section; Mr. S. Elamparuthy, Political Organizer of the Jaffna District; Mr. A. Ravi, Head of the Department of Economic Research and Development; and Mr. S. Dominic, Head of the Department of Public Administration. It seemed to the LTTE that the composition of the government delegation was indicative of a lack of seriousness of purpose.

III The LTTE, as part of the measures to engender an enabling environment, pressed for a ceasefire. The government steadfastly resisted this demand on the basis that it would be appropriate not at the very outset, as a precondition for commencement of talks, but when reasonably substantial progress had been made. The maximum concession which the government was minded to make was a “cessation of hostilities” which they qualitatively distinguished from a ceasefire. Modalities of the truce, embodied in the document which came into effect on January 8, 1995, were brief and sketchy. They supplied an insufficient framework for dealing with the volatile situations which inevitably developed. Among these were the mobility of armed LTTE guerrillas and the movement of Sea Tigers. There were recurring complaints that the government showed no interest in taking steps to convert the cessation of hostilities into a ceasefire.

IV There was, throughout the process, an all-too-evident trust deficit. The government entertained serious doubts about the LTTE’s commitment to the search for a durable political solution. Reciprocally, the LTTE believed that government initiatives were motivated by the quest for partisan political gain. They gave vent to this sentiment in the observation that “the government was very subtle and sophisticated in the art of propaganda. Already an effective campaign had been launched internationally.”23 The LTTE felt that, uppermost in the government’s mind, was the development of a pre-emptive strategy to impute blame to the LTTE, in the eyes of the international community, should the talks fail. The depth of mutual suspicion and distrust could well have been mitigated by availability of foreign facilitation, for which there was no provision at that stage.

V Serious incidents, potentially destructive of the process, occurred from the very outset. On 12 November, 1994, to coincide with Kumaratunga’s assumption of office as President, the LTTE declared a unilateral cessation of hostilities for seven days. In an army ambush in the Nedunkerni area, a senior LTTE cadre was killed and decapitated. Acrimonious correspondence followed, with regard to return of the severed head. In an incident on the waters around Mannar, the Sea Tigers attacked and destroyed a Sri Lankan frigate, causing the deaths of 24 Navy personnel.

In this background, the cessation of hostilities agreement, once signed, to be effective, necessarily required a mutually acceptable monitoring mechanism. This was entirely lacking. The International Committee of the Red Cross (ICRC), invited by the government to take on this role, declined on the ground of want of military expertise needed for successful implementation of the mandate.

The government then set up peace committees in six areas of the North East and invited four foreign delegates from three Western countries—Auden Holm and John Gabrielson from Norway, Lt. Col. Paul Henry Horsting from Holland, and Maj. Gen. C. Milner from Canada— to function as chair of these committees. Less than an optimal arrangement, this suffered a setback at the start, with bitter recriminations by the LTTE over the government’s failure to arrange a meeting between them and the foreign monitors prior to the latter being dispatched to Trincomalee and Batticaloa to commence their work. The process was grievously impaired by the absence of even the semblance of an effective authority to perform an indispensable function.

VI From beginning to end, a debilitating factor was excessive informality hardly commensurate with the nature of the issues involved. The government sought the LTTE’s concurrence to use, as an intermediary, a retired French diplomat, who had served as ambassador in Haiti and was willing to offer his services on the firm understanding that the government of France was in no way privy to his assignment. The LTTE saw no merit in this proposal because of its entirely unofficial character, and also because of the special relationship of the suggested intermediary with one party. As the talks floundered on the verge of collapse, and one final attempt to salvage them was decided upon, the person selected to spearhead the effort was a senior member of the Christian clergy, scarcely equipped with credentials for so daunting a task.

VII The structure of the talks called for a sharp focus on “existential” issues in the North and East as a preliminary to discussion of political issues. This part of the negotiation, however, was mired in rancour and suspicion throughout its course. Lifting of the economic embargo gave rise to incessant disputes which were never resolved. The border post at Thandikulam exemplified

this situation. Restrictions on fishing, opening of the Sengupidy road and its bearing on Pooneryn camp, and the movement of armed LTTE cadres in the East, were among the other issues which proved incapable of resolution. In the absence of any coherent strategy, the talks did not move forward.

The important question is whether these shortcomings were seriously considered, and a productive effort made to overcome them, in the Norwegian-facilitated negotiation which occupied the next phase. This is considered in the chapters which follow.

(Excerpted from The Sri Lanka Peace Process: An Inside View by GL Peiris)