Ranil Wickremesinghe and the depths of our despair

 Ranil Wickremesinghe

“The fault, dear Brutus, is 

not in our stars, but in 

ourselves, that we are 

underlings” – Julius Caesar, William Shakespeare

An old timer, a person who had moved closely with the leading politicians of his times, once told me about the renowned speechmaking of a historically decisive political leader of the era; the sound, the fury and the literal flood of the speeches, was a sight to behold he said. Assuming the role of a visionary, the man orated with a convert’s passion, an air of drama, portentous words flowing from a wide-open mouth, uncontrolled, everyone and everything within reach left wet, sprayed with saliva. 

The speaker, wrapped up in his own clever choice of word and phrase, probably did not notice the pulled handkerchiefs of his followers. Even if he did, he possibly did not care. They were in awe, he knew it; a leader to the manor born, and his manor was the largest of them all.

Bandaranaike was all things he denounced. Born to privilege, an anglicised man whose upbringing was unquestioningly colonial; tutored at an acclaimed British university, a very conventional marriage, there was nothing of the rebel until much later, when that kind of rebellion had become safe and gainful. 

With the introduction of the concepts of representative democracy and the universal franchise everything changed. The rules of the game were rewritten; a whole new culture was born. If the old elite aspired to continued leadership now, they had to rearrange themselves, become the new elite. ‘The wish is the father to the thought’ said the Bard. To prosper in the emerging political culture, it was now essential to decode the mass mood; their hopes, fears, tastes and dispositions. In that art, Bandaranaike proved masterful; speeches flowed freely, spit sprinkled liberally. 

Taking a broad sweep of the decades 1950s and ’60s, we see resurgent Asia, more specifically, Japan, South Korea, Singapore, Malaysia, Taiwan laying in these years the foundation for their subsequent stellar rise to economic stardom. We were equally busy; making speeches, emphasising particularities, legitimising delinquency, embracing nonsense – scuttling the ship.

A dry, dismissive interview

Recently on YouTube I watched an interview of the UNP Leader Ranil Wickremesinghe by Darshana Handungoda, a popular blogger. Although there were no obvious similarities, yet, this interview, for some reason, brought the slobbering speech making of the 1950s to mind.

While I groped for the similarity, the differences were apparent. Apart from the unescapable gap between the two widely-separated eras (1956 and now), there were other dissimilarities aplenty. If Bandaranaike was appealing to ideals, was passionate, seducing with his words, Wickremesinghe was dry, limited, even dismissive. Bandaranaike offered a cause, something more than the satisfaction of immediate needs; language, culture, a sense of control over a nation’s destiny, invaluable to a people long subjugated by alien forces. True, the Bandaranaike project did not work out too well, somethings even going very badly, perhaps an undertaking beyond their scope and capability; but all the same, it inspired, was uplifting at the time.

There is no upliftment in the Wickremesinghe words; he says the economy has gone bad since November 2019 (prior to that, he was more or less running the economy), offering himself as the solution, once again. The nation is hugely indebted, when in control of the economy, he was paying off these debts. Handungoda did not probe him, others are not servicing the nation’s debts? Did Wickremesinghe fast-track the payment of the loans? At the interview, neither party referred to the actual growth rate of our economy 2015-’19 (the economy slowed down markedly).

There is a kind of vision for the poor rural folk; long production lines, factories turning out low tech, low margin products like underwear and cans of fish, using imported cloth, coated steel, aluminium and accessories. “Why are you against the GSP plus, don’t you like jobs being found?” he threw at Handungoda, who clearly was challenged by the former Prime Minister making points with speculative economic references. 

Generalised Scheme of Preferences (GSP) is a method by which the richer countries attempt to assist the poorer countries by giving easier access to their markets. The European Union concessions to exporters from struggling economies is a similar scheme, and is not without its critics. How many extra jobs were found through the concession (which, in any event is a short- term arrangement valid only until the economy of the recipient reaches an agreed level)? What are the political/social arrangements demanded of the recipient country by the EU? Have our national unemployment figures improved since GSP plus? Handungoda did not ask. TV interviews do not produce facts and figures; they are more entertainment than enlightenment.

When at an interview, Wickremesinghe has a habit of making a loud ‘mhin’ sound, perhaps involuntary, accompanied with something like a nervous twitch of the shoulder. Generally, in a conversation such a sound is made by the listener to indicate his attention to the interlocutor. In this case the ‘mhin’ was unusually loud, impatient and even intimidating. When there is an imbalance of social power, a huge language imposed limitation of sophistication, the interviewer is uncomfortable, unable to parry the darts being thrown at him randomly. With lesser personalities, with less thought-out diversions, Handungoda does better.

Regardless of anything else, the assessment of the Ranil Wickremesinghe career and personality is anchored on his role in the infamous bond scam. Mahendran, the man he appointed Governor of the Central Bank, against the counsel of many, had not only given up Sri Lankan citizenship (for Singapore) but was also the father-in-law of Arjun Aloysius, a leading dealer in Treasury bonds. 

In one of the many sleight of hands in this damnable saga, even before Mahendran’s appointment became public, Aloysius resigned from the chairmanship of Perpetual Treasuries, the company under which he dabbled in Treasury bonds. As subsequent events showed, this was an eyewash, contemptuous of the public’s intelligence. Aloysius remained the driving force in what is a family company. For a gullible people, the reality of the situation did not matter, an apparent removal of a conflict of interest in the form of Aloysius’s resignation will suffice.

As any interviewer would indeed do, Handungoda asked Wickremesinghe about his relationship with Mahendran. He deflected, “Naturally, I know them all, Nivard Cabraal, Indrajit Coomaraswamy,” perhaps same school, played cricket, parents were friends; the full colonial gibberish.

Handungoda did not want to know from Wickremesinghe whether Mahendran, prior to his appointment, was a fundraiser for him or the UNP. Whether, after Mahendran absconded to Singapore, the Prime Minister had met him or even contacted him, was not raised. The former Prime Minister spoke at length about his take on the bond controversy. As far as he was concerned, there was no loss to the Government, if at all, it was only a question of a potential conflict of interest. 

This was not a tentative hypothesis of a national leader dispassionately assessing the errant actions of a high public officer. His role in the overall scheme is so intertwined, that in defending the other, he defends himself. In fact, long before the country realised the enormity of the betrayal of their trust, the Prime Minister and his political cohorts were rushing to obscure the fiendish scandal.

Many offenders point to other wrongdoers to mitigate their own actions. In this case too, there is finger pointing at a previous Governor (of the Central Bank), alleging misdoings in relation to the issue of bonds. However, it is not the finger of Mahendran pointing, but that of the Prime Minister himself. How about Nivard Cabraal’s sister working for Aloysius? The investigations must cover that period too, he opined.

If there were no losses for the Government when Mahendran sold bonds to Aloysius, how is it then that there are losses when Cabraal sold bonds to Aloysius? If the only issue is a mere question of conflict of interest, why all the hush-hush, hundreds of telephone calls to officials/politicians (with telephones eventually ending up in swimming pools), text messages suggestive of conspiracy and of inside information, followed up with generous payments all around?

Trenchant defence

Not all dealers were given notice of this particular issue (of bonds), the bulk of the bonds sold that day went to Perpetual Treasuries. On the day of the auction, several bigwigs working closely with the Prime Minister turned up at the bank for a ‘breakfast’ meeting (the cost of fried eggs and coffee too surely borne by the Government) with the Governor who was hyperactive; Government banks were asked to bid low, the bond issue amount was peremptorily increased. Much later, after it had become a controversial question, there appeared a very brief note, unreferenced, undated, to justify the suddenly increased debt creation.

We are told, that this is how the Government of Sri Lanka went about raising billions of rupees of debt. So casually was everything done, they may well be ordering a cup of black coffee. The then Prime Minister says nothing untoward happened, if at all, only a possible conflict of interest.

He even takes credit for the court initiated stay on the properties of Perpetual Treasuries – “There is no loss, we are holding billions of company money. But since there is no loss, the company may take the matter to court to get their money back.” There is no reference to the cornering of the bond market by one dealer, the absence of other dealers including the Government banks, the secondary market especially the EPF; the defence was trenchant.

And that most fundamental question, not only to Ranil Wickremesinghe, but also to the politically conscious society at large; why after five years of premiership, the PA, his rival party, is not only expected to win easily, but is aiming to win two-thirds of the seats in Parliament? A career built on selling a false image, has ended with only him believing the falsehoods.

I think Dharshana Handungoda had brought one prepared question with him, which he asked, out of context, with an air of awe, “What is the last book you have read and what is the last movie you watched?” Ranil Wickremesinghe is not a movie critic, nor by any stretch of the word a man possessed of greater sensibilities in the art of cinema. When a person bestowed with elite status does something which every other man does ordinarily, our society sometimes raises the former to a status of an icon. Today, if a minister were to drive a vehicle (a four-wheel drive for sure) to the nearest grocery shop, there will be many praises for his simplicity, “he drove his own vehicle!” Such is the prevailing buffoonery. 

However, it is the other question, about the book, that worries. 

Each culture may carry a different standard, but in any assessment, more nuanced is the badge of an intellectual. The generally held opinion in certain quarters, I too have heard it being said, is that Ranil Wickremesinghe is a dedicated reader. Generally, this is said with wonder, “Neil Armstrong landed on the moon, Ranil Wickremesinghe reads books!”

What is a standard routine for an intellectual, a white collar worker, or even the moderately literate in an advanced culture, reading has become a wonderment in our society. In such countries, most functioning adults spend a good part of their average day reading in various forms. In addition to general literature, there are so many concepts and ideas relevant to each person in the written form, that to miss out, is to lose out. To a truly educated mind, reading is not only a habit, it is of himself, without reading, he ceases to be.

One cannot but lament the depth of our despair. Only a generation back, we had politicians like J.R. Jayewardene, N.M. Perera, Colvin R. De Silva, Felix Dias Bandaranayake, S.J.V. Chelvanaykam, Bernard Soysa, Pieter Keuneman and more recently Lakshman Kadirgamar. No one asked them what book they last read. Books and they were one, it drew no comment, reading was part and parcel of their makeup.

Here we have to go back to Bandaranaike, whose policies have gradually but inevitably led to an education level now shown inadequate, uncompetitive and uninspiring. Any parent conscious of world realities will desire a foreign education for their children, if they can afford it. That is not an option for most. Coming through the system as it is, there are many, who, undoubtedly bright, yet, can see the world’s complexities only through a small prism. Interpreting the world by the standards of the familiar, by reference to local characters and experiences, they turn everything into folklore, imagination overcoming reality. The country is small, its achievements unremarkable, yet in that imagination there lives sterling leaders, golden brains, golden tongues, intelligent voters and endless potency. There is no extracurricular reading today, for a fertile mind, the narrow confines of the literature available in the vernacular has no appeal. It is limiting as well as inhibiting. Handungoda has been told that Ranil Wickremesinghe reads many books, and they are in English. Due to language limitations, these books remain out of reach, a mystery never cleared. He sighs, he feels a pang.

Now, the reason why the Handungoda/Wickremesinghe interview reminded me of the dribbling speeches of the Bandaranaike era came to me. At the end of the day, both leave us wet, and probably neither cared.