The 20th Amendment has been pushed through with the same haste as its predecessor, with little consideration of public opinion and those represented by the public to represent their opinion, choosing to tow their respective party lines. No surprises anywhere.
The debate and vote, in the midst of rising cases of Covid-19, lockdowns, and even the first Covid-19 death in more than a month, had all the circus-like hallmarks of present-day parliamentary politics – catcalling and insulting slogans amid juvenile behaviour from both sides of the divide; a protest vehicle parade, Third Reich-inspired arm bands, and embroidered protest masks courtesy the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB); the stars and stripes raised inside the chamber; and the arrival of one Member of Parliament (MP) straight from prison, this time clad in personal protective equipment (PPE) to boot. And too few sane voices appealing to their fellow MPs to stand by their principles. Meanwhile, former Prime Minister Ranil Wickremasinghe’s United National Party (UNP), which propelled the 19th Amendment in part to create a stronger premiership for Wickremasinghe, is now reduced to a toothless farce, unable to even appoint a member to its sole parliamentary seat.
The damp squib of the two-day debate preceding Thursday (22) night’s vote showcased another feature of our present parliamentary culture. Debates, good or bad, do little to impact a final vote which goes all too predictably along party lines. In which event, parliamentarians need do little to make rousing, eloquent speeches fluent in the subject matter. MP Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, commenting on the experience of watching her peers, said: “The debate descended to the level of a bunch of boys trying to be macho, hurling insults at each other across the aisle; talking utter rubbish.”
One wonders how many of the 225 had actually read the amendment in full, and of those, how many have the faculty to make sense of its contents in the context of the very serious job of constitution making. It says a lot about our elected representatives that over 50 of the parliamentarians who voted to effectively repeal the 19th Amendment voted “for” it in 2015. Twenty of our senior MPs have in fact, voted for all four of the recent constitutional amendments – the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th – unconscionable as that may seem.
In the run up to the debate, there had been enough said publicly and privately to suggest there was considerable discomfort even within the ruling party over some clauses at least. That in the end, even those vocal politicians submitted to the amendment is a sad indictment of their inability to take a principled stand for or against what they believe in. Or that they may be battered into submission for whatever reason.
Which brings us full circle to one of our favourite topics – the quality of those that represent us. Long gone are those representatives who voted in representation of their electorate and in keeping with their conscience. The collective responsibility held by Parliament has given way to a culture of yes men (and a few women) whose parliamentary actions are in sole allegiance to their party and/or their political masters. How far do they realise that in those hallowed halls, they represent far more than their narrow political ambitions? That in their hands lies the future trajectory of not just the country’s development but also the country’s morality and conscience?
The debate and vote, in the midst of rising cases of Covid-19, lockdowns, and even the first Covid-19 death in more than a month, had all the circus-like hallmarks of present-day parliamentary politics – catcalling and insulting slogans amid juvenile behaviour from both sides of the divide; a protest vehicle parade, Third Reich-inspired arm bands, and embroidered protest masks courtesy the Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB); the stars and stripes raised inside the chamber; and the arrival of one Member of Parliament (MP) straight from prison, this time clad in personal protective equipment (PPE) to boot. And too few sane voices appealing to their fellow MPs to stand by their principles. Meanwhile, former Prime Minister Ranil Wickremasinghe’s United National Party (UNP), which propelled the 19th Amendment in part to create a stronger premiership for Wickremasinghe, is now reduced to a toothless farce, unable to even appoint a member to its sole parliamentary seat.
The damp squib of the two-day debate preceding Thursday (22) night’s vote showcased another feature of our present parliamentary culture. Debates, good or bad, do little to impact a final vote which goes all too predictably along party lines. In which event, parliamentarians need do little to make rousing, eloquent speeches fluent in the subject matter. MP Dr. Harini Amarasuriya, commenting on the experience of watching her peers, said: “The debate descended to the level of a bunch of boys trying to be macho, hurling insults at each other across the aisle; talking utter rubbish.”
One wonders how many of the 225 had actually read the amendment in full, and of those, how many have the faculty to make sense of its contents in the context of the very serious job of constitution making. It says a lot about our elected representatives that over 50 of the parliamentarians who voted to effectively repeal the 19th Amendment voted “for” it in 2015. Twenty of our senior MPs have in fact, voted for all four of the recent constitutional amendments – the 17th, 18th, 19th and 20th – unconscionable as that may seem.
In the run up to the debate, there had been enough said publicly and privately to suggest there was considerable discomfort even within the ruling party over some clauses at least. That in the end, even those vocal politicians submitted to the amendment is a sad indictment of their inability to take a principled stand for or against what they believe in. Or that they may be battered into submission for whatever reason.
Which brings us full circle to one of our favourite topics – the quality of those that represent us. Long gone are those representatives who voted in representation of their electorate and in keeping with their conscience. The collective responsibility held by Parliament has given way to a culture of yes men (and a few women) whose parliamentary actions are in sole allegiance to their party and/or their political masters. How far do they realise that in those hallowed halls, they represent far more than their narrow political ambitions? That in their hands lies the future trajectory of not just the country’s development but also the country’s morality and conscience?