Politics
The peasantry and the middle-class

by Uditha Devapriya
Faced with the prospect of pauperisation, Sri Lanka’s lower middle-class is getting restive and radicalised. With hiking prices and plummeting incomes, they are on the verge of taking to the streets. The government’s policies may well push them over the edge.
This is the closest the country has come, since the second JVP insurrection, to a full-scale middle-class rebellion. Of course it is unfair to put the blame entirely on the government. Like every other such institution, it is limited in what it can do. Yet, its mismanagement of the present situation has served to alienate the middle-class further.
The peasantry, too, is getting restless. The tipping point has been the government’s policy on fertilisers. While the adverse impact of chemical fertilisers has gone on record and while a transition to organic fertiliser, or less harmful chemical varieties, has been in the offing for decades, the transition itself has not been phased out. The government for its part remains optimistic about crop yields, while foreign news outlets publish report after report exposing the flaws of its policies. Even the latter outlets take a balanced approach on the issue: hence both The Economist and Al-Jazeera, in otherwise cogent critiques of the fertiliser imbroglio, quote farmers saying that they would prefer organic, and that conventional pesticides have been affecting their health badly for years.
If recent developments tell us anything, it’s that the situation forebodes a conjuncture of the middle-class and the peasantry. Political commentators have noted as much: many of them seem to think that, in banning imports of chemical fertilisers on the one hand and of luxury and consumer goods on the other, the government has united two otherwise diametrically different classes. While they do not jump to conclusions yet, they contend, if not suggest, that this could lead to full-scale protests and riots in the future.
The argument has to be further analysed for its implications to fully seep in. Historically, Sri Lanka’s lower middle-class has always been upward-aspiring and conservative in its outlook. Yet to speak of a monolithic social group would be a little fallacious: like the peasantry with whom they are united today, they remain stratified and diverse.
The main difference between these classes lies in the pecking order in which they feel the heat of economic downturns: despite the crunch they have suffered over successive periods and governments, the middle-class has managed somehow to realize their aspirations. I am by no means contending that the ride has been easy for them; merely that they have had much less scope for radicalisation than has the peasantry.
What then would a conjuncture between these two groups imply? It would imply, first and foremost, a reconciliation of their class interests. Such a reconciliation would in turn aid the Left when it formulates its tactics against the regime. This, in turn, would help the Samagi Jana Balavegaya, the country’s foremost Opposition, to turn from its pandering to orthodox economic theory to a more fire-in-the-belly approach to the issues at hand.
For its part the Left has not let off the possibility of these developments. That might explain, on the one hand, the recently held discussion between the JVP and the FSP, and on the other, the dissensions within the Communist Party over the teachers’ salary issue. The SJB seems tentatively to be undergoing a paradigm shift within its ranks, but it remains divided – split would be a better way of putting it – between its left and right wings. That is why, while not a few MPs advocate a reversal of price controls, other MPs call for such measures.
The SJB is yet to come out with a coherent programme. To be fair, the JVP and FSP are yet to come out with one too, but they have held more consistent stances on economic issues, and issues to do with the peasantry and working class, than the SJB. The UNP for all intents is dead as a dodo, and while I will not dismiss the possibility of elements in the SJB calling for a return to the parent party, the latter remains united only in the person of its sole MP. By contrast, the SJB is more diverse, though much less articulate. The present crisis and its class conjunctures might radicalise it. This, however, remains to be seen.
The question as to whether a radical class bloc consisting of the lower middle-class and the peasantry remains viable, in the long term, is one I really can’t answer. Certainly, as long as the present crisis – a crisis not wholly of the government’s doing – will continue, so long will these groups remain united with each other. But to hedge all bets for a radical formation on the unification of these groups would be untenable. Why do I say that?
For all its defiance of the government, Sri Lanka’s lower middle-class is only as radical as circumstances permit it to be. While a sociological study of this milieu is yet to be written, all one can say, based on its behaviour and voting patterns, is that it has traditionally chosen the path of radicalisation only in the absence of countervailing influences.
Its animus against the regime is based in the restrictions imposed on luxury goods, as well as the controls imposed, and then eliminated, on food prices. While it has reacted much more angrily to the latter owing to the essential nature of food items, its response to the clampdowns on imported goods has been no less intense.
A closer examination of these reactions gives us a glimpse into the thinking underlying this social group. Middle-class opposition to restrictions on imported consumer goods depends largely on the extent to which the middle-class has turned those goods into status symbols. The government, to be clear, has imposed limits on high-end products: this is obvious if one examines the full list. What, then, can we conclude about middle-class responses to those restrictions? Not just that this class forms a crucial part of an economy that rests so much on imports, but that it has come to measure itself based on whether it can afford such imports. This is what explains the many memes, posted well before the pandemic hit, that compare vehicle prices in Sri Lanka with prices elsewhere. Insofar as their aspirations as a globalised middle-class remain denied, then, they remain a radicalised group.
Their attitude to price controls reveals their thinking even more. Before the Gotabaya government backtracked on emergency regulations, the urbanised middle-class opposed price controls. This had less to do with their opposition to the regime than with their animus against government-imposed controls: then as now, much of this milieu, especially its youth, prefer free markets to state intervention. The more suburbanised or ruralised middle-class, on the other hand, remained divided: while poorer sections seemed to favour price controls, more affluent sections appeared to oscillate between acceptance of a need to impose such controls during a crisis and opposition to the notion that such measures need to be in place even after a crisis. There was also anger, among this particular segment of the middle-class, at hoarders, but no critique as such of how market forces, in the long term, ensure supplies for those who can afford them and shortages for those who cannot.
With the opening up of the food sector to market forces – forces determined less by vague laws of demand and supply than by the diktats of hoarders and intermediaries – the poorer middle-class, the lower middle-class, has united itself against the government’s reversal of price controls. Of course the more affluent segments remain in favour of the government’s backtracking – “not a popular decision, but the right decision”, one tweet runs – but this is a view shared by an elite minority; for the rest, even the rest of the middle-class, the controls remain preferable to the squeezing of disposable incomes that awaits them with ever-rising prices. Not that the latter group has completely abandoned their thinking about privatisation and state regulations: “Free markets are good,” one of them told me the other day: “just not when there’s a pandemic.” I prefer what another friend said, only half in jest: “free markets are good, just not when real free markets are tried.”
The implications of these points to the formation of a radical class bloc should not be lost on anyone, certainly not on the SJB and even less so on the Left (JVP-FSP). If the point that the country’s lower middle-class can swing both ways (opposing import restrictions and also the lifting of price controls) holds true, then the impact of economic recovery on this class must be appraised by any opposition hedging all its bets for a resistance against the government on the unification of the middle-class with the peasantry and working class. Put simply, the Left should, when joining hands between a pauperised middle-class and subaltern groups – what Partha Chatterjee once called “the dangerous classes” – consider the possibility of the middle-class to revert to its comprador instincts once recovery kicks in.
In a column I wrote not too long ago, I predicted that when the global economy would start to recover from the slump it was going through earlier this year, the harmony that prevailed between the government and its corporate backers would dissipate. I realise now that I was wrong in thinking this honeymoon would break up two years into the future: it is very much happening now, even if only slightly. I am certain, nevertheless, that whatever unity is there between the radicalised middle-class and the peasantry will also not last for long: it too will start dissipating once recovery kicks in. The task of a Left formation should therefore be, not to incorporate middle-class elements and cave into them, but to chart a programme which prioritises the interests of those done down hardest by the crisis: not a class that opposes the government over the jacking up of iPhone prices, but a class that stares helplessly as policies not of their choosing push them deeper into the pit. The role of the Left, accordingly, should be to radicalise the mainstream, and not be co-opted by the mainstream.
The writer can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com
Features
Could Trump be King in a Parliamentary System?

by Rajan Philips
Donald Trump is sucking almost all of the world’s political oxygen. Daily he is stealing the headline thunder in all of the western media. The coverage in other countries may not be as extensive but would still be significant. There is universal curiosity over the systemic chaos that Trump is unleashing in America. There is also the no less universal apprehension about what Trump’s disruptive tariffs will do to the lives of people in reciprocal countries. There are legitimate fears of a madman-made recession not only in America but in all the countries of the world. There is even a warning from a respected source of a potential repeat of the Great Depression of the 1930s.
The question of this article obviously shows its Sri Lankan bias. For there is no country in the world that has been so much preoccupied, for so long, on so constitutional a matter – as the pros and cons of a parliamentary system as opposed to a presidential system. And only in Sri Lanka will such a question – whether Trump could be a king in a parliamentary system – makes sense or find some resonance, any resonance. Insofar as the current NPP government is committed to reverting back to its old parliamentary system from the current presidential system, the government could use all Trump and his presidential antics as one of the justifications for the long awaited constitutional change.
A Historical Irony
It is not that every presidential system is inherently prone to being turned into an upstart monarchy. The historical irony here is that America’s founding fathers decided on a presidential system at a time when there was no constitutional model or prototype available in the world. In fact, the American system became the world’s first constitutional prototype. The founding fathers had all the experiential reason to be wary of the parliamentary system in England because it was associated with the King who was reviled in the colonies. Yet the founding fathers were alert to the risks involved. James Maddison reminded that “If men were angels, no government would be necessary;” and John Adams warned that man’s “Avarice, Ambition, Revenge or Gallantry, would break the strongest Cords of our Constitution as a Whale goes through a Net.”
But for over 200 years, no American president tried to break the country’s political constitutional system for reasons of avarice, anger and revenge, as Trump is doing now. Presidents in other countries with far less traditions of checks and balances have been dealt with both politically and legally for their excesses and trespasses. In Brazil, the system was turned against both the current President Lula and his previous successor Dilma Rousseff. In between them, Jair Bolsonaro imitated Trump in Brazil and even tried to launch a coup after his re-election defeat in 2022, emulating Trump’s insurrection in Washington, in January 2021. But in Brazil, Bolsonaro has been accused of and charged for his crime, while in America its Supreme Court let Trump walk away with immunity and to be back as president for another round.
In Philippines, the current government of President Ferdinand Marcos Jr. has turned over its former President Rodrigo Duterte to stand trial at the International Criminal Court in The Hague, on charges of crimes against humanity for his allegedly ordering the killing of as many as 30,000 people as part of his campaign against drug users and dealers. In Sri Lanka, Mahinda Rajapaksa tried to be king, unsuccessfully sought a third term, and set up the system for family succession. But the people have spurned the Rajapaksas and questions as to whether they have been given undue protection from prosecution keep swirling. To wit, the contentious Al Jazeera interview of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe.
In the US, Trump is nonstick and remains untouched. Unlike the prime minister in a parliamentary system, an American president has no presence in the legislature except for the ceremonial State of the Union address. And unlike no other president before him, Trump has created the theatre of daily press conferences, rather chats, before an increasingly hand picked group of journalists. There he turns lies into ex cathedra pronouncements, and signs executive orders like a king issuing edicts. No one questions him instantly, his base hears what he wants them to hear, and by the time professional fact checkers come up with their red lines, Trump and his followers have moved on to another topic. This has become the daily parody of the Trump second term.
No prime minister in any parliament can get away with this nonsense. Every contentious statement will be instantly challenged and refuted if necessary. Parliamentary question periods are the pulse of the political order especially in crisis times. After being in the House of Commons gallery during a visit to England, President Richard Nixon was astonished at the barrage of questions that Prime Minister Harold Wilson had to face and provide answers to. These are minor differences that are hardly noticed in normal times. But the Trump presidency is magnifying even the minor shortcomings of a major political system.
Trump’s cabinet is another instance where the American system is falling apart. The President’s cabinet in America is based on unelected officials approved by the Senate. Until cabinet secretaries or ministers have generally been well equipped academics or professionals and were selected by successive presidents based on their known political leanings. Their ties to corporate America were well known but that was always somewhat qualified by the clear motivation to excel by providing exceptional service to the country.
Trump’s second term cabinet comprises a cabal of self-serving ‘yes’ men with no stellar background in the academia or the professions. They are all there to do Trump’s bidding and to disrupt the orderly functioning of government. Their ineffectiveness is now daily manifested in the drama over Trump’s decisions on tariffs which vary by the time of day and his mood of the moment. The reciprocal countries do not know what to expect, but they have learnt that any agreement that they reach with Trump’s ministers means nothing and that there will be nothing certain until Trump makes his next announcement.
Americans, and others, will have to go through this for the next four years, but in a parliamentary system there could be quicker remedies. A prime minister cannot erratically hold on to power for a full term, and as British parliamentary experience has recurrently shown prime ministers are brought down by cabinet ministers when they have outlived their usefulness to the government and the country. There is no such recourse available in the US. The device of impeachment is simply inoperable in a divided legislature and Trump has demonstrated this twice in one term.
Growing Pushback
Yet after the initial weeks of shock and awe, push-back to Trump is now growing and is slowly becoming significant. Within America the resistance is mostly in the courts, especially the lower federal courts, where the judges are ordering against the stoppage of USAID contract payments, the manifestly illegal firing of government employees, indiscriminate accessing of government data by Musk and his DOGE boys, and the barring by executive order of a law firm that had once represented Hillary Clinton from doing business with the federal government.
Also, in the highly watched case against the deportation order served on the Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil, a Palestinian with Green Card status and married to a fellow Palestinian who is a US citizen, the courts have ordered the government to stop the deportation process until the case is resolved. Mr. Khalil was a prominent leader of the student protests at Columbia against the Israeli devastation of Gaza, and the District Judge ordering the temporary ban on deportation is Jesse Furman, an exceptionally qualified American Jew who was appointed by President Obama and was once touted as a potential Supreme Court judge.
The wider push-back is mostly overseas and is predicated on retaliatory tariffs by countries that Trump is imposing tariffs against. In different ways and for different reasons, China and Canada are aggressively pushing back. Mexico is resorting to both flattery and firmness. And the EU is launching a systematic response. Other countries will be forced into the fray if Trump lives up to imposing the much anticipated reciprocal tariffs against all countries that now charge tariffs on imports from the US.
Even without tariffs their uncertainty has been enough to roil markets with stock indices plunging dramatically from the heights reached soon after the November election and the much promised regime of monumental tax cuts. One of the worst stock slumps has been that of Elon Musk’s Tesla. In what is being considered to be the worst such slide in the history of the auto industry, Tesla has lost all of the 90% increase in value it achieved after the presidential election and now gone lower than its pre-election value. Between December 2024 and March 2025, Tesla’s dollar worth fell from $1.54 trillion to $777 billion, a near 50% drop.
Tesla’s misfortune is a schadenfreude moment for those who abhor Musk for his political trespasses. Political aversion is certainly a factor in Tesla’s misfortunes and declining sales, but materially not the main one. Other factors that are more significant are issues with the brand products and stiff EV competition from China. But political distractions catch the eye, and protesters have been turning up at the Tesla dealers in the US. Trump called them the lunatic left and to boost his buddy’s products he even stage managed a sales pitch for Tesla vehicles at the White House driveway. And this is after executively rescinding all of Biden’s initiatives to boost the production and use of Electric Vehicles. What better way to make America great again?
Fighting Oligarchy
Political commentaries in the West are preoccupied with speculations over how, when and where all of Trump’s orders and initiatives will impact people’s lives and their politics in America. One comforting constant is the presidential term limit that will stop Trump’s presidency in January 2029, although Trump will never stop musing about a third term in office. Just like annexing Canada, purchasing Greenland and expropriating Gaza. Mercifully, he has not made any claim to immortality.
The elusive variable is the response of the people. So far, Trump has been able to maintain his hold over his base and he is pulling a tight leash on the Republicans in Congress to toe the line given their narrow margins in both the House and the Senate. The base is indicating support to all his madman initiatives even though Trump has fallen back to his usual negative approval rating (more people disapprove than approve of him) in popular opinion polls. What is not clear is when the public will turn on the president if he actually imposes tariffs on consumer goods, keeps firing government employees, and keeps eroding social welfare.
Trump won the election promising to bring down the prices and cost of living instantly, but everything he is doing now is driving up the costs and people will start registering their dissatisfaction. Unlike in Britain there is no tradition to cheer the monarch and damn the government. Sooner or later, Americans will have nothing to cheer their king for, but everything to damn him, because this ersatz king is also their government.
There are scattered protests in many parts of America, with people showing up at local town hall meetings organized by Republican congressmen. But the protest against the deportation of Columbia University student Mahmoud Khalil is likely to gather traction and is already drawing a spectrum of supporters including progressive Jewish and other American citizens. A Jewish organization called Jewish Voice for Peace has organized a sit in protest in support of Khalil in the lobby of Trump Tower in New York. Other high rise buildings may be targeted.
More resoundingly, Senator Bernie Sanders has launched a national tour for “Fighting Oligarchy” and drew a crowd of ten thousand people at his first stop in Michigan. The tour will be a teaser to the Democratic Party leadership that is currently stuck in its tracks like a hare caught in Trump’s headlights. The Party is going by the calendar and waiting for its turn at the next mid-term elections in 2026, and the full election year in 2028 to elect the next president. The old campaign heavyweight James Carville has publicly advised the party to “play dead” until Trump’s systemic chaos turns the people against the Administration. Not everyone is prepared to be so patient.
New York Congress woman Alexandria Ocasio-Cortez (AOC) is not prepared to “completely roll over and give up on protecting the Constitution.” She wants immediate and consistent opposition to Trump and not to play the waiting game according to the electoral calendar. Trump for one does not wait for anything and breaks every rule to advance his indeterminate agenda. Among the Democrats, AOC has the most extensive social media base, and many Democrats are encouraging her to take the next step and announce her candidacy for New York’s Senate seat. She is a shrewd politician and is well positioned to open another front against Trump, paralleling the national tour that Bernie Sanders has launched.
Features
Politics with People: A Failure of the Sri Lankan Old Left

By Uditha Devapriya
Sri Lanka’s lurch into universal suffrage in 1931 had certain consequences for the Left. For one thing, it compelled the Left to seek a balance between a radical socialist programme and the challenges of mass electoral politics. Upon its establishment in 1935, the Lanka Sama Samaja Party (LSSP), brought together by an unusual and exceptional cohort of Western-educated anti-imperialist activists, sought to achieve this balance. It fielded candidates across the country, concentrated along the southwestern quadrant where support for the Left was strongest, and fought within a parliamentary framework.
The D. S. Senanayake government’s (1947-1952) disenfranchisement of the Indian Tamil community deprived the Left, by now divided between the Trotskyites and the Communists, of its strongest electoral base. Radical historiography holds it that this is what pushed the Left to embrace Sinhala nationalism, even chauvinism, to the exclusion of more progressive forces. Kumari Jayawardena, for instance, has commented that “a marked preoccupation with electoral success led to the erosion of the internationalist attitudes the Left had adopted from the outset.” Accordingly, from opposing Sinhala Only in 1956, the LSSP and Communist Party capitulated to popular nationalist forces soon thereafter.
In later years, splinter groups from the LSSP and Communist Party – and of course the JVP – heavily criticised the coalitions that the Old Left built with the SLFP. The latter’s political orientation, not surprisingly, became a subject of hot debate within the Left. The LSSP and Communist Party preferred to view it as a petty bourgeois outfit, capable of radicalisation despite a profusion of right-wing forces. The dissenting groups within the Old Left, including the LSSP (Revolutionary) wing, begged to differ. The JVP went one step ahead and deigned to call it a bourgeois formation, no different to the United National Party.
Perhaps the most correct characterisation of the SLFP would be petty bourgeois, or small capitalist. From its inception, it was backed by a vague combination of often contradictory class interests: from petty merchants to Buddhist monks to the peasantry and urban workers. They did not speak in one voice. In terms of class, nothing substantive brought them together. The anti-imperialist politics they espoused and championed, as Newton Gunasinghe has reminded us, was not so much in relation to the ownership of the means of production in the country as the identity, specifically ethnicity, of the owners themselves. While that does not belittle the radicalism many of them harboured, it has to be admitted that their radicalism was somewhat ideologically sterile.
Politics does not, to be sure, operate in a vacuum. As Vinod Moonesinghe has reminded us, the Left’s forays into parliamentarianism – into coalition-building and no contest pacts with the nationalist petty bourgeoisie – were guided by necessity rather than expedience: they had no alternative but to use the electoral process. The difference between the Old and New Left, in this regard, is that from the inception the Old Left were aware of the need to target the masses through the vote, while the New Left, five or six years into their history, mounted independent Sri Lanka’s first anti-State insurrection. A decade later, the JVP tried to work within the electoral system, but was pre-emptively ejected, first by the meagre results of the 1982 polls and then by the UNP’s proscription of the party.
My critique of the Old Left – that is, those who chose to cohabit with the SLFP – is that they did not challenge Mrs Bandaranaike’s lurch to the right as forcefully as they should have. The United Front, elected on a massive wave of anti-UNP sentiment in 1970, represented South Asia’s broadest left-wing alliance. Both the LSSP and Communist Party could have, or should have, made it clear that they mattered as much to the SLFP as the SLFP mattered to them. Historians of the Old Left point to two developments that forestalled such possibilities: the insurrection and the subsequent economic crisis. Yet these, by themselves, should not have made the Old Left handmaidens of the SLFP, and Mrs Bandaranaike.
The most historically accurate interpretation of what happened to Mrs Bandaranaike by 1975 – the year of rupture, when the SLFP and Old Left parted ways – is that she went the way of other bourgeois nationalist leaders in the Third World. As with Nasser in 1965, she could not prevent her own government, including members of her family, from pushing it to the right. This tendency, which came to be represented by Felix Dias Bandaranaike her nephew and Minister of Justice, should not in itself have aborted the Left’s project. Yet by 1975, with the world on the cusp of transition to neoliberal globalisation – Sri Lanka under J. R. Jayewardene later became the first South Asian state to open to neoliberalism – the Left had been consumed by the very forces it chose to cohabit with.
I neither defend nor deride the Old Left’s choices here, though I will reiterate that it should have been more strident about where it stood in relation, and in opposition, to the SLFP. There are those who fault the LSSP for caving into Sinhala nationalist forces. My critique is not that they caved into or kowtowed to them – purely because, in the context of mass politics in the country, it was impossible to do business without them – but that it became supinely incapable of radicalising such forces. When, today, nationalist commentators claim that the likes of N. M. Perera destroyed Sinhalese businessmen through the United Front government’s land reforms, one realises how futile it was to expect nationalist ideologues to be handmaidens in any radical programme. Perhaps the lesson here is not that nationalist forces cannot be turned to the Left, but that the Left must play an active role in turning them to the Left. In this, the Old Left failed – somewhat dismally.
Uditha Devapriya is a regular commentator on history, art and culture, politics, and foreign policy who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com. Together with Uthpala Wijesuriya, he heads U & U, an informal art and culture research collective.
Features
As superpower America falls into chaos, being small is beautiful for Sri Lanka

by Rajan Philips
“You may not be interested in the world order-but it is interested in you,” opines The Economist in its latest lead editorial, entitled “Dealing with the Don.” It is about America’s new Godfather, aka Don Corleone, aka Donald Trump, and the blitzkrieg beginning of his second presidential term that is causing, what the editorial calls, “the rupture of the post-1945 order.” It may be that the post 1945 order has run its course and needs a radical overhaul. But not for the reasons that seem to be motivating President Trump, and certainly not for whatever endgame he has in his mercurial mind. More than anything, in his second term Trump is presiding over America’s implosion into chaos and its spillover onto the world at large. It is super power devolving into super chaos.
Whether or not the world order is interested in Sri Lanka, the island country is in a fortuitously good place while other countries and polities are caught up in one way or another in the global waves emanating from the American vortex. Being small as island countries go, to recall Bishop Lakshaman Wickremesinghe’s felicitous phrase, has its benefits. There was a time, in the 1970s, when Ernst Friedrich Schumacher visited Sri Lanka touting his new, and over time very popular, book, “Small Is Beautiful: Economics As If People Mattered,” which included a chapter on “Buddhist Economics;” the island’s socialist intellectuals quietly laughed at him.
But the concept – small is beautiful – struck a chord in more ways and places than one. It strikes for Sri Lanka now quite meaningfully as people in bigger countries are struggling to make sense of Trump and to avoid being hit by debris from his erratic executive orders. Sri Lanka has had its ordeals – too severe and too many of them, in fact, for its size and endowments. Yet after a tumultuous overthrow of a government that had gone awry, the people have helped themselves to a new government that for all its innocence in governance is a perfect fit for a small country caught in the topsy turvy world of Donald Trump. For all its shortcomings, the NPP government has shown a remarkable restraint in the rhetoric of foreign policy, a temptation that almost none of its predecessors were able to resist. It is wise to be non-aligned without the rhetoric of non-alignment.
It could also be argued that there is nothing remarkable about showing restraint to Trump, because every government in the world is showing not merely restraint but are even faking deference to avoid the pain of whiplash Trump tariffs. It does not matter whether you are neighbours like Canada and Mexico, or if you are separated by oceans, like China and India. Europe is picked on with disdain. Africa is irrelevant and the Middle East could be managed with the Israeli military doing Washington’s bidding. Only Russia is spared, with inexplicable deference shown to Vladimir Putin. Only China has simply said that it is ready for any war, trade or any other, that Trump might be fancying.
White House or Fight House
The first leader of any other country not to fake deference to Trump and not fail to call out his Vice President, the insufferable JD Vance, is Ukrainian President Volodymyr Zelensky. He paid the price for it by being bundled out of the White House last Friday. Taking turns to insult and humiliate their Ukrainian guest, the American President and Vice President accused Zelensky of being disrespectful and ungrateful to their country while also accusing him of showing a preference for the Biden Admisnistration. Contentious meetings using colourful language do take place between word leaders and their teams, but they are always behind closed doors and spicy details come out years later in retirement memoirs for historical amusement. What happened in Washington last Friday was unprecedented; but, true to form, Trump called it “good for TV” – the be-all and end-all of his persona.
As usual, Trump’s Republican loyalists have been praising their fearless leader and his VP for standing up for their country, as if America needs some standing up to the beleaguered leader of a battered country. Trump’s main pique against Zelensky was the latter’s first refusal to sign a ransom agreement bartering away in perpetuity Ukraine’s critical minerals for half a billion dollars without any assurance for Ukraine’s security. A modified agreement was then drafted and Zelinsky flew to Washington for its signing last Friday. But things went off script as Zelensky chose to speak his mind. A return visit is now being planned for next week, with Zelensky going to Washington accompanied by French President Macron and British Prime Minister Starmer to show respect to the Don.
The Economist sees a new hierarchy in a new world order that are in the making. Number one, apparently, is America. The second tier below belongs to countries with resource endowments and unaccountable leaders – Russia, China, and Saudi Arabia. And the third rung goes to the old West of Europe and erstwhile American allies and longstanding neighbours like Canada. The unmentioned are the rest even though India looms from the shadows, too populous to ignore.
Sri Lanka can stay where it is unseen and hopefully untouched by reciprocal tariffs. And the opposition can make noise for the recall of the current Ambassador from Colombo to Washington. That will eventually happen but not due to any local political noises. The UNHRC like all of UN might be in a quandary. But the Council is going through the motions in Geneva and the government is playing its part. The real answer to the proceedings in Geneva could and should come out of genuine changes at home. A systematic and retroactive crack down to eradicate the country’s criminal infrastructure, and nationally inspired political change whether it comes through Clean Sri Lanka or a New Constitution, or both.
Trump’s Achilles Heels
There is also a new hierarchy in the making within America, and that could ultimately prove to be the Achilles heel of the Trump presidency. The world can only watch and wait. At the top are President Trump and First Buddy Musk. The hegemon and the henchman. There are cracks yet between the two, but few checks are emerging. After weeks of nonstop savaging of the US institutions of government and foreign aid by Elon Musk and his handful of laptop storm troopers going by the name of the Department of Government Efficiency (DOGE), there are signs of slowdown and rethinking. Not surprisingly.
Achieving efficiency in government is always a necessary and laudable goal. President Clinton eliminated about 400,000 jobs during his presidency, but that took several months of effort and selectivity spearheaded by Vice President Al Gore. Not some buddy like Musk. Musk’s method is to be random and reckless, and that has created chaos and the need to recall retrenched employees in essential services. A second reason for the slowdown is growing judicial restiveness towards Musk’s operations.
In a small but not insignificant setback to the Administration, the Supreme Cout by a 5-4 majority sided with a Federal District Judge who had ordered the Trump Administration to lift the funding freeze on USAID operations that Trump had imposed on his very first day in office. The judge’s order was for the government to pay for projects and contractors whose work had been completed, and payment approved, before Trump assumed office.
The constitutional question as to whether Trump has the authority to override laws and disband institutions like the USAID, just on an executive whim, is still being battled in lower federal courts. The Trump team’s expectation is to let the cases go to the Supreme Court and ultimately get a favourable verdict from highest court with its 6-3 conservative majority.
The setback this week was on an appeal that Trump rushed to have the Supreme Court stop the lower court order to make payment for completed work some of which involved humanitarian relief operations. Delayed payments and non-payment to subcontractors has been Trump’s modus operandi in his real estate business. Musk did that with employees at Twitter before he turned it into X. They were extending their method to government’s contractual payments.
The case drew attention with Oxfam that gets no money from USAID, joining other agency plaintiffs against the government cuts. A remarkable nugget about the case is the District Judge who ordered the government to pay for completed work. His name is Amir Ali, a 40 year old Arab-Canadian-American. Born in Kingston, Canada, he completed a degree in Software Engineering at the University of Waterloo, and went on to do Law at Harvard. He made a quick name as a civil rights and constitutional lawyer, winning over half dozen cases he argued before the Supreme Court, and winning over even conservative judges.
Obviously, Ali and other judges who are ruling against Trump have got their detractors and their share of threats. That reportedly includes a reportedly racist taunt by Musk that Ali should be doing software engineering instead of helping non-existent NGOs receiving government payments. That is America. There is room for Amir Ali just as there is room for Elon Musk. Who prevails depends on the day of the week. Literally, for as Canadian Prime Minister Justin Trudeau said, when asked by a reporter about his handling his battles with Trump over tariffs, “It’s Thursday!”
Tariffs are another area where Trump is mercurially insistent but is being forced to reverse course from one day to another. He arbitrarily imposed a flat 25% tariffs on all imports from Canada and Mexico, in addition to further taxes on steel and aluminum imports. All in clear violation of the free trade agreement between the three countries, which Trump renegotiated and signed on during his first term.
Prime Minister Trudeau called Trump’s tariffs a trade war that is aimed to cripple the Canadian economy and ultimately achieve the annexation of Canada as the 51st state of America. Trump has been obsessively musing about annexing Canada ever since he started his second term, in addition to his musings over Gaza, Greenland and the Panama Canal. But the annexation talk has riled up Canadians across the political spectrum and at every social level.
The federal and provincial governments in Canada are all on board for retaliatory tariffs against American goods until Trump removes the tariff threat altogether. And the Canadian public is gung ho about boycotting American goods and ceasing travel to America as tourists. The Trump Administration may not have quite expected the Canadian backlash, which comes on top of market turbulence and investor panic within America. The upshot has been almost daily announcement of tariffs and their withdrawals the next day – with a face saving pause until a future date.
There is no one actually in support of tariffs, in America or anywhere, except Trump himself. His cabinet of lackeys have no backbone to tell him what they really think about the idea, and so they are left to soften the blow by securing postponements from the Don. April 2 is the next date to watch for universally reciprocal tariffs that Trump has so far threatened to impose against all countries. Sri Lanka will have to be watchful, but there is still too much time left for Trump to change his mind multiple times. There is no point on betting on what he is going to do next. It is better to enjoy being small and not caught in the crossfire.
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