To heal, Sri Lanka needs to forge a new collective identity

Despite allegations of corruption, war crimes and attacks on journalists, the Rajapaksa government had a powerful mandate, which was strengthened nine months later when the brothers’ party, Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (Sri Lanka People’s Front), won a two-thirds victory. majority in parliament. Yet, during his short tenure, Rajapaksa pushed the country into bankruptcy, food insecurity and rising inflation.

Gotabaya announced his candidacy just days after the 2019 Easter Sunday bombings, promising a strong response to terrorism. In the months that followed, the frenzied coverage of newspapers and radio stations increased fear of Muslims (who comprise 10% of the population), and attacks on them increased. Gotabaya capitalized on this environment, portraying himself as the defender of the Sinhala-Buddhist majority, who would turn Sri Lanka into the Singapore of the Indian Ocean. The clergy, the media, the military, the political elite and local business tycoons all adopted the same rhetoric, handing their fate to him.

By March, hospitals were reporting shortages of essential medicines, and two elderly people had died queuing for gasoline. Unable to pay for fuel to produce electricity, the government instituted a rolling blackout, culminating in a 13-hour power cut at the height of a suffocating heat wave. That was the last straw for the people. Sri Lankan protesters took to the streets and asked Rajapaksa to step down.

The political class responded by playing musical chairs in the cabinet, while protesters occupied the area around the President’s Secretariat. The place which Rajapaksa had set aside as a ‘movement zone’ was renamed ‘Gota Gogama’ (‘Gota go village’). It became the home of argalaya (struggle) against the government, which has since raided the site and arrested some protest leaders.

Aragalaya has been unusual in that it has welcomed Sri Lankans of all ethnic backgrounds. In April, protesters outside the President’s Secretariat included activists from the Muslim community – outright denouncing Gotabaya’s radical sentiment. The protesters also cooked a mixture of water and rice (kanji) in memory of Tamil civilians killed during the final phase of the war, when indiscriminate shelling made it impossible for them to secure other food. Argalaya thus became a place where people lived as an alternative to the Rajapaksa brand of politics. The protesters celebrated unity among diversity, demonstrating that hope does not come from leaders but from the power of the people.

But does this solidarity simply reflect a marriage of convenience? Just two and a half years ago, many of these anti-government protesters supported Rajapaksa’s brand of majoritarian politics. Today they complain that Parliament is full of fraudsters and liars. Nevertheless, he voted for these traitors in a free and fair election.

Rajapaksa was given the mandate despite his famous record of corruption, authoritarianism and violence. The protests did not begin when the family stole public money or trampled minority rights, but when Sinhalese were called “extremists and terrorists” simply for demanding food.

The entities underpinning Gotabaya’s power have lost credibility. Businesses and others allying with Rajapaksa are being shamed on social media, and any elite Buddhist clergy who dare to join the protests are scolded. The army and police, once praised for their service, are now seen as vehicles of state repression and major media organizations have been criticized for inciting anti-minority sentiment.

Now the question is what will fill this void. Sri Lankans have a rare opportunity to forge a new identity based on this struggle for dignity. Sinhalese protesters have caught a glimpse of the violence and mistreatment of Tamils ​​after police fired tear gas shells and thrashed them. After seeing his business crumbling from a power outage, he now realizes what Muslims feel when angry mobs set his business on fire. And after feeling the effects of rapidly rising inflation, all families now recognize that plantation workers cannot live on $3 a day.

In each case, the Sinhala-Buddhist majority is given a window into decades of deprivation suffered by minorities. Sinhalese Buddhists are connecting with their inner Tamils ​​and Muslims. But only by building on this shared trauma can Sri Lankans turn their resentment towards Rajapaksa into a new social contract.

By renegotiating our communal bonds and ties, Sri Lankans can forge a new collective identity. This means rejecting majoritarianism and corruption and adopting a shared struggle for a free and prosperous future. ©2022/Project Syndicate

Priyanka Krishnamurthy is a former research analyst at the Ministry of Finance of Sri Lanka.

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