A few years later, Vijaya’s nephew and Prof Carlo Fonseka’s
son, Suranga, who was my housemate in Boston, explained the phenomenon in the
following terms: ‘Vijaya was popular and the Left thought that they could,
through him, push their agenda’. Now
that’s a far cry from classical Marxist conceptualization of ‘revolution’, even
for what certain sections of the 4th International would have called
‘revisionist’ or even ‘downright retrograde’ leftists (as they dubbed parties
such as the CP and LSSP). Even
self-styled Marxist ideologues like Dayan Jayatilleke were swayed, which means
that half-baked, confused Marxists like Kumar David must be forgiven for
supporting the LTTE against the Sri Lankan security forces.
The masses viewed Vijaya in terms very different to how the
Left saw him. His relative position in
the politico-ideological spectrum was hardly important to them. Vijaya was a celluloid hero true but one
whose humanity in real life was abundantly acknowledged by each and every person
who had opportunity to meet him.
Wherever he went, there were crowds.
Whether these crowds were equivalent to ‘votes’ is of course another
matter, Vijaya never won an election after all and even if, as alleged, he was
robbed of victory no one will claim he was going to win in a landslide.
At the time, though, it is quite understandable that Old
Left saw in Vijaya a ray of hope given the state of the Left’s political
fortunes. A breakaway faction from the
SLFP, after all, is something much bigger than a splinter from the splintered
Left, even an SLFP in the doldrums, one might add.
And so, Vijaya was to be the ‘Left Candidate’ in 1988. Vijaya was to spearhead the campaign for the
Provincial Councils to be held a few months later. The SLFP may or may not have been worried,
but there was no reason for the UNP to be scared. Vijaya would split the opposition vote. This was obvious. A Vijaya-less USA contesting in elections
boycotted by the SLFP did not make any waves, even if one were to factor in election
malpractices of the kind we haven’t seen since 2001.
The JVP, then proscribed, and operating through its proxies,
principally the Inter University Student Federation (IUSF) and the secretive
‘Deshapremis Janatha Vyaparaya’ (DJV), on the other hand, did have reason to
worry. Vijaya was appealing to the JVP’s
political base, the rural masses probably including significant sections of the
youth. Whatever misgiving the people had
of the Old Left, they loved Vijaya. They
loved him even though they may not have agreed with him on the thorny issue of
the Indo-Lanka Accord and its outcome: the IPKF and the 13th
Amendment.
It was then not about elections. It was about the movement of political
loyalties on both political and non-political grounds in a country that fast
moving towards anarchy. The regime was
dictatorial and unpopular. The JVP had
chosen to go the way of armed insurrection. The SLFP was painting itself out of
the picture. Sarath Muttetuwegama, the
one-man opposition, virtually, was dead. The LTTE had earned a breather
courtesy India. The Indians were
here. Vijaya emerged in this context and
with a message that appealed to left-leaning youth of both the Sinhala and
Tamil communities (the EPRLF and PLOTE were ‘friends’ and were ‘unofficially’
included in the Alliance).
On February 16, 1988, Vijaya Kumaratunga was gunned
down. The JVP never accepted
responsibility, but then again the JVP still operates as though its political
hands are clean. I remember meeting a
staunch JVP supporter at the Galaha Junction. We walked towards the Arts
Faculty together. He referred to the
poetic note penned by Sirilal Kodikara in the Communist Party newspaper, Aththa (The Truth) under the name
‘Ranchagoda Lamaya’. The finger was
pointed at two personalities: ‘Jaathivaadaye
visa kiri pevu amma’ (The mother who fed the poisoned milk of racism) and
to the ‘father’ who promoted political assassinations and terrorism (I forget
the exact lines). There’s truth in this,
because that strange ‘couple’ (individuals or perhaps political realities) were
indeed culpable. But it was hard to
swallow what was implied: the trigger-puller and the person who ordered the
assassination, were somehow guiltless or that they were only marginally
implicated.
The JVP-led ‘Action Committee’ of Peradeniya did not permit
any form of mourning. Vijaya was
ridiculed for crimes of omission and commission. Very few saw mirth in these
insults. Vijaya was a personality that
was larger than political loyalties and antipathies. You did not have to agree with him to like
him. You did not have to like him to
mourn him.
Had he lived? Well,
that’s conjecture but the political equation was such that he would not have
stumped either the UNP or the SLFP. He
was assassinated. The USA, icon-less, floundered. Many key activists of the SLMP were
killed. After the bheeshanaya, Vijaya’s widow went back to the SLFP and took with her
key figures of the party. From 1994 to
2005, one can argue, we had an SLMP President, but that’s taking ‘logic’ too
far.
As for the USA, it happily or unhappily joined hands with the UNP in the face of the JVP onslaught, with leader after leader being assassinated. The SLMP split, one faction being led by Chandrika into the SLFP and the other, led by Ossie Abeygunasekara going green. The Old Left, predictably, stood with the SLFP.
It’s twenty five years since Vijaya was slain. Since then we’ve had ‘stars’ take to
politics. None have had the appeal that
Vijaya had. Maybe they were smarter,
less innocent, for twenty five years later, they are ‘somewhere’. Vijaya is no more. Whether this is good or bad, is another
story. We lost a great actor, a magnetic
personality, a fledgling politician (all things considered). A good man,
certainly.
1 comments:
great article to remember Vijay. I remember the day he was assasinated, I was only 6 years old and it seemed all of Sri Lanka stopped. I am a great admirer of Vijay but he is no more, Sri Lanka has changed so much, we will never get those days back and I have migrated abroad and look back at the good old days
Post a Comment