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By Devaka Gunawardena
Many progressives are joining the JVP-led campaign for Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s (AKD’s) presidential candidacy, National People’s Power (NPP). Although 30 constituent actors are involved, the JVP is the driving force. Thus, the focus of this article is on the party and its candidate.
Progressives are excited about AKD because of his more inclusive approach to politics. At the same there are limits to what the JVP can achieve because of its party structure. Can it defeat the potential emergence of proto-fascism in the form of Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s candidacy, and its stark implications for Sri Lankan democracy?
On the one hand, the JVP’s leadership has become moderate, moving away from the rhetoric of revolutionary socialism to a middle-class politics of anti-corruption. In AKD’s inaugural speech as presidential candidate on 18 August at Galle Face Green, for example, he did not focus on the working class (kamkaru pantiya). Instead, he made a few off-hand references to “working people” (waeda karana janathava). On the other hand, the JVP’s party form originates in the war-torn context of the Russian Revolution. It remains doubtful that it could be transformed from a Leninist party into one based on the decisions taken by a mass membership.
Even if the JVP was capable of such fundamental change, the urgent question is what it offers in the current moment. Many have argued that it should not be blamed for its economic policies (or complete lack thereof), compared with other mainstream parties. But if that’s the case, what’s the point of stumping for AKD in the upcoming election? The reality is that other than an explicit defence of democracy, the party does not have a clear, class-driven vision that could enable it to win mass support. Without this, there is no reason to see it as a capable alternative to the mainstream opposition to Gotabaya, the UNP.
That’s not to say that the UNP offers a solution. It even shares responsibility for the conditions in which proto-fascism can thrive. But is it worth putting time and energy into a project that doesn’t tackle the current struggle between democracy and hardening authoritarianism by engaging clearly in class politics? More crucially, can AKD’s campaign backed by progressives defeat the forces of reaction, which includes the very real possibility of a far-right regime that could change the entire terrain of Sri Lankan politics? Is making the wager in this dangerous moment worth it, given the JVP’s limitations?
Constraints and possibilities
To answer the immediate question of electability: it is possible, of course, that non-mainstream parties may supplement their strength with bold, radical ideas, depending on the context. The world is undergoing profound transformation, which creates space for alternative political forces. The value of the space for the left depends on how it approaches the next phase of struggle.
In the Sri Lankan context though, the priority is not to support an alternative candidacy bereft of class politics, but to defeat reaction, which would otherwise make it extremely difficult if not impossible to organise openly under a proto-fascist regime. It is just as likely, if not more so, that the self-styled political “outsider” who wins could represent such a possibility.
Moreover, even when a progressive alternative gains momentum, it doesn’t guarantee success. Several years ago, Syriza in Greece and Podemos in Spain were hailed as alternatives. More than the JVP, they developed from bottom-up, anti-austerity movements. In Syriza’s case, however, it did not continue organising to confront the European creditors. The result was a painful betrayal of its mandate, including carrying out austerity. Nor did Podemos move beyond a vague politics of discontent with “elites.” It eventually lost ground to right-wing populist forces such as Ciudadanos and the far-right Vox that operate on similar terrain.
On the other hand, as left commentators have noted, the much older Labor Party in the UK has offered more space for grassroots pressure. It has identified working class voters’ interests under the leadership of Jeremy Corbyn. In the US, the Bernie Sanders’ campaign is using the Democratic Party as a vehicle. It anticipates the possibility of a “dirty break” by incubating the forces that could build a new party that represents the interests of the working class.
Many have argued that the JVP should not be blamed for its economic policies (or complete lack thereof), compared with other mainstream parties. But if that’s the case, what’s the point of stumping for AKD in the upcoming election?
The point of these contrasting examples is that simply pointing to a “third force” is not enough. We must analyse its history and direction in view of the balance of forces within the party, the constraints imposed by the state, and the political stakes.
In Sri Lanka, the vagueness of the JVP’s politics undermines AKD’s appeal as a long-shot candidate. The party must continue to operate on the terrain of patronage politics. Whoever the UNP selects as its candidate would theoretically be more capable of marshalling votes from a wider swathe of groups. This argument is exemplified by the paradox of the stereotypical voter who voices their support for alternatives but ends up voting for their chosen “safe” candidate. We don’t have enough island-wide polling to measure support. Nonetheless, we can infer based on past elections alone that barring a mass movement that engages explicitly in class politics, people will vote along sectional lines. It remains far less certain that AKD could win over diverse sections of society.
Most importantly, the loss of the election to Gotabaya in this case wouldn’t simply be a mark of embarrassment. Rather, it could mean the fundamental transformation of Sri Lankan politics in a hard-authoritarian direction.
The constituency for change
The difference between the NPP and the defunct coalition government is that the latter depended on a fundamental polarisation between the Rajapaksa regime and its authoritarian imposition on society. Anti-corruption politics lacks the same urgency. Exceptions include the Lava Jato scandal in Brazil. That even ended up working to the advantage of the far right, leading ultimately to the election of Jair Bolsonaro after a judicial coup against former president Lula Da Silva. The Amazon now burns.
It is more than possible that Gotabaya could benefit equally from the popular desire to “throw the bums out.” In this regard, the discourse of corruption cuts both ways. Capitalising on frustrations with politicians in general could set a dangerous precedent for disenchantment with the nominally participatory institutions that sustain liberal democracy, even in its weak form.
As mentioned in a previous article, the limits of the NPP’s vision take us to the heart of the Sri Lankan left’s failure to distinguish between the diverse constituency that voted for change in government in 2015 and the outcome of that coalition government itself. The issue isn’t simply that politicians betrayed their mandate for reform. Rather, activists didn’t take advantage of the opportunity to build a mass movement capable of holding elected leaders accountable to a program of the left. The JVP itself is partially to blame. It engaged in media spectacles condemning politicians, rather than conducting a serious analysis of structural obstacles to reform.
In fairness though, even if organisers were focused on this task, it’s doubtful such a movement could have become sustainable in less than five years. That’s especially true in the face of hardening authoritarianism represented by forces demanding the restoration of the Rajapaksa clan and newer proto-fascist mobilisations by far-right Sinhala mobs. Strange things do happen though. Who could have imagined the surprise victories of both left and right around the world since the Great Recession of 2008?
If we are lucky enough to get a second chance by defeating the spectre of proto-fascism this election, the question is whether the left could use the political polarisation that defines the current moment to build a mass movement that asks relevant questions about economic democracy. This process could enable the left to consolidate its forces. Patient organising must continue until the left can represent itself as a concrete alternative in the ongoing battle between the forces of authoritarianism and democracy.
Fundamental questions
We must envision the path that is most likely to lead to success in this long-term struggle. That means laying out the practical steps: 1) generating ideas, 2) building a movement, and 3) identifying the appropriate party (or starting one) to carry out policies.
Progressives who support AKD—or other third-party candidates for that matter—in the current Presidential Election start from the final step and walk backwards. They identify a candidate from a party, who they believe is representative of a movement, which casts the shadow of a radical democratic program. That’s not necessarily the wrong approach.
Sanders, for example, highlighted the gap between the base and the leadership of the Democratic Party in the US during his 2016 campaign run. That split has become a persistent site of internal conflict. In the case of Sri Lanka though, for the reasons outlined above, it doesn’t appear that AKD’s JVP offers the same opportunity of becoming a vehicle for left politics. Nor is it likely to stimulate the revival of extra-parliamentary actors such as class struggle trade unions that could sustain transformation. The urgency of the moment, given the multiplying dangers to democracy, magnifies these limitations.
The demand for an alternative though implies fundamental questions. What defines the Sri Lankan left today? What is a viable break, both in political and economic terms, with the past 40 years of Open Economy policy, which has engendered the political decay on which the JVP fixates? How can we move from defensive struggles to demanding an expansion of the welfare state according to a deep understanding of universal rights? And what would this process require in terms of public investment and democratic planning in new industries?
Shifting the debate toward these questions could enable us to better grasp the critical stakes in the current election, and the collective action it requires to defeat proto-fascism. We can keep an eye on both the long-term and short-term, but we must connect the two. We must realise that future organising for visionary alternatives will be ruled out if we lose the present battle for democracy itself.
