Analysis
Sri Lanka’s international
straitjacket
The failure of Sri
Lanka’s peace process is partially due to the simplistic
government-versus-LTTE formulation adopted by international
mediators.
by | Sunil
Bastian
seva |
While the history of the current
process of Sri Lanka’s globalisation goes back to the
colonial period, the opening up of the country’s economy
40 years ago worked to intensify it. The civil war that has
plagued the island nation for more than two decades has done
almost nothing to undermine this dynamic. Rather, the conflict
has brought the international system into affairs that had
hitherto been protected on the basis of the nation’s
sovereignty. Today Sri Lanka is indeed a fragmented state,
part of which is controlled by the LTTE, but all of which
is now inextricably linked to the global politico-economic
system.
Unfortunately, it is largely
the contradictions of the global system that have exerted
such influence on Sri Lanka, leading to pessimism in the context
of the breakdown of the peace process. The dynamic today is
relatively straightforward: on one side, violence and conflict;
on the other, a framework for the peace process, dominated
by international actors, that is not working. Even when the
war was being fought at its highest intensity in the past,
this had not been the case. For example, at the time of the
People’s Alliance regime’s ‘war for peace’
strategy, war was a reality, but the space for peace was still
open and available. Today that space is closed, given a procedural
structure that seems ineffectual, while the violence continues.
Within Sri Lanka there have
been diverse responses to the intervention of international
actors in the country’s peace process. The Sinhala nationalists
and old-style leftists have been uncomfortable with it, and
some have actively opposed it. Some liberal internationalists,
on the other hand, view the world community as a bunch of
do-gooders, eager to deliver peace to the island. They ignore
the politics and power-play that are part and parcel of these
interventions in a globalised world. The construction of the
term ‘international community’ itself is a ploy
to hide the politics inherent in this dynamic. What Sri Lanka
needs today is an analysis that can highlight the politics
of power in these interventions, so that its citizens can
spot the contradictions, as well as the opportunities available
to promote the cause of peace.
Growth in conflict
The liberalisation of the Sri Lankan economy in 1977 was a
turning point in the expansion of the involvement of international
actors in the country’s affairs. Sri Lanka was the first
country in Southasia to liberalise, and the process generated
a tremendous response from the aid agencies. At one time,
Sri Lanka received one of the highest per capita levels of
international aid in the world, both bilateral and multilateral.
While the civil war has forced some donors to rethink their
policies, Sri Lanka has consistently enjoyed the commitment
of key donors, including Japan, the World Bank, the Asian
Development Bank and the International Monetary Fund. From
around the mid-1980s, the latter three accounted for about
75 percent of foreign aid to the country.
Meanwhile, the implementation
of Sri Lanka’s economic-reform process has always been
more important to these key donors than concerns over the
civil war. Aid from them has regularly been reduced, adjusted
or diverted to new projects depending on how successful the
Colombo government has been in carrying out the economic-reform
agenda towards the further development of liberal capitalism
on the island. The war was for a long time only of concern
to these organisations to the extent that it impacted on the
economic agenda. But the Sri Lankan economy has been performing
reasonably well despite the conflict, with an average of four
to five percent annual growth. This has not been the eight
percent growth that mainstream economists have been hoping
for in order to equal the East Asian miracle, and certainly
Sri Lanka would have performed better had there been no civil
war. But the fact remains that the conflict has not significantly
affected the country’s economy, which in turn has allowed
donors to view the country as relatively ‘stable’.
According to international
indicators, Sri Lanka is no longer a ‘poor’ country,
but rather a ‘low middle income’ one, with an
annual per capita income of more than USD 1000. The economy
has diversified from its agricultural base, and a significant
portion of people now earn an income in sectors linked to
the global economy. A large number also make use of global
labour markets. Although Sri Lanka has a heavy burden of foreign
debt, many believe that the debt-service ratio, meaning the
proportion of export earnings spent on servicing foreign debt,
is still at a manageable level. In addition, there is no danger
of Sri Lanka defaulting on debt-service payments. Of course,
this relative success does not mean that the country has solved
its development problems. Both the economy and society show
the usual social contradictions of a capitalist economy. Nonetheless,
it is crucial to note the fact that, seen through the logic
of capital, Sri Lanka has performed reasonably well in the
midst of the civil war.
A number of factors explain
this peculiar picture. First, the core of economic production
has been confined to areas surrounding the capital. Close
to 50 percent of the gross domestic product is now within
the Western Province, close to Colombo. So long as the war
is confined to the north and east – which were never
particularly important economically, even before the conflict
began – the economy can function perfectly well. Many
sectors in Sri Lanka, not to mention the incomes of more and
more of its people, depend on the health of the global economy.
Hence, if the global economy performs better, so too does
Sri Lanka’s – regardless of the war. Finally,
several other factors have helped Sri Lanka to achieve economic
gains while simultaneously waging an expensive war: generous
donor support, the reduction of the burden on the state coffers
by getting rid of loss-making state enterprises, and the relative
degree of autonomy that the central bank has maintained.
The entry of the Norwegians
as mediators in the peace process coincided with the breakdown
of this order. This took place during 2000 and 2001, years
of a global economic recession. Then, in 2001, the same year
that a severe drought struck the island, the LTTE carried
out a devastating attack on the country’s only international
airport – the nerve centre for an economy that depends
on global linkages. These factors combined to produce a negative
economic growth in 2001 for the first time since Independence.
The International Monetary fund came up with a rescue loan
package, and the People’s Alliance government of Chandrika
Kumaratunga requested the Norwegians to act as mediators in
negotiations with the LTTE.
However, it was the United
National Front (UNF) government, elected in December 2001,
that made use of the Norwegians’ entry to sign a Ceasefire
Agreement, embark on an extensive programme of economic reforms,
consciously expand the internationalisation process, and include
the US, EU and Japan as co-chairs of the peace process. The
political objectives of the UNF strategy – led by Ranil
Wickramasinghe, the nephew of former President Junius Jayawardene,
the architect of Sri Lankan liberalisation – included
not just peace, but also the pushing of the economic-reform
agenda begun by President Jayawardene. This agenda, which
developed independently of the peace process, had its sights
on an extensive reform programme covering all aspects of the
economy. The Wickramasinghe government consciously sought
international support for both of these agendas. This strategy
lasted for a very short period, however, and its neo-liberal
peace was defeated by both Sinhala and Tamil nationalism,
working side by side.
Two-sided stranglehold
The current situation is thus one wherein a war is being fought
and fuelled by nationalist forces on both sides. At the same
time, contradictions of the international set-up inherited
from the Wickremasinghe period are not only complicating matters,
but do not allow much hope for securing a long-term settlement.
The Norwegians, who are very
much wedded to the Ceasefire Agreement (CFA) secured during
the UNF period, are working with a framework much more suited
to an inter-state conflict based on a two-actor model. Hence,
the CFA recognises only two sides, the LTTE and the Colombo
government. There is an acceptance of the presence of two
armies, rules of engagement and no-go areas between these
two armies, and rules dictating how either side can withdraw
from the agreement.
This set-up entirely ignores
the complexities of conflicts that build on the basis of identity
politics. It legitimises the demands of the LTTE as the sole
representative of the Tamils, and undermines space for democracy
within the Tamil population. It also forgets that there have
always been struggles for political supremacy among Tamils,
even while simultaneously fighting the Sri Lankan state. The
LTTE has taken care of this issue by eliminating its opponents.
Meanwhile, the rights of the Muslim population have not been
given due importance, thus pandering to a position among Tamil
nationalists that has deliberately ignored Muslim rights by
creating a notion of a Tamil-speaking people.
The two-actor structure of
the CFA also cannot take into account the complexities of
politics among the Sinhalese, which is fought through a problematic
multi-party system. The Norwegian approach gives the impression
of being based on ‘primordialist’ interpretations
of identity conflict, where a monolithic group of Sinhalese,
represented by the Colombo government, is fighting a monolithic
group of Tamils, represented by the LTTE. As such, the Norwegians
are involved as impartial mediators between these two ‘underdeveloped’
communities, to find a ‘rational’ solution that
only Europeans can provide.
The formation of the ‘co-chairs’
group came about due to initiatives of the UNF government,
and not the other way around. In order to understand the positions
of the co-chairs, it is important first to focus on the individual
policies of each of these countries. The fundamental objective
of the Japanese, US and EU policies is one of security and
stability, in order to continue work on the economic agenda,
and promote capitalism in the island. At the very beginning
of the peace process there were divergences from this position,
mainly among EU countries. Pressure from the global ‘war
on terror’, however, has pushed these countries into
uniform alignment. The recent ban on the LTTE by the EU as
a ‘terror’ group is a reflection of this policy
convergence, made with the objective of establishing stability.
This position is strengthened
by support given by multilateral agencies such as the World
Bank and the Asian Development Bank, which work on the basis
of a similar policy perspective. Of course, promoting negotiations
is an important element in this strategy, with the aim of
ensuring security. But the fundamental motivation of supporting
negotiations is very different from the objectives behind
the Norwegian two-actor, impartial-negotiator model. Suddenly
what becomes more important is not balancing between warring
parties, but rather the stability of an established state
in order to promote capitalism.
Despite the presence of this
fundamental position, it is not one that the ruling classes
of Sri Lanka can take for granted. Continuation of this policy,
after all, will depend on the good behaviour of those elites.
Developments such as a stepped-up military strategy could
worsen the humanitarian crisis, increase human-rights violations,
instigate a greater flow of refugees and destabilise the core
areas of the economy – evolutions that would clearly
go against the policy objectives of the co-chair countries.
Similarly, any significant reversal of the economic agenda,
or any move to undermine the influence of the co-chairs by
courting other international actors, could also bring about
a change in the international approach.
As much as the two-actor model
reveals contradictions that undermine the chance for long-term
peace in Sri Lanka, the policies of the co-chairs have their
own inconsistencies. For example, even while calling for negotiations,
two of these actors – the EU and the US – have
banned the LTTE as a ‘terrorist’ organisation.
Though prescriptive statements are made about human rights,
humanitarian crises and the like, there remains a continuous
flow of foreign aid from these key donors, so long as the
reform agenda is maintained by the Colombo authorities. Promotion
of the private sector likewise continues unabated, with the
support of many agencies. Finally, although security and stability
are the underlying motives of this approach, there is very
little commitment to actually support Sri Lanka through military
means.
The contradictions of this
international conundrum create complicated problems for those
who accept that working with international actors is essential
in the current context of global capitalism. This is relevant
not only for Sri Lanka, but for other countries in Southasia
as well – particularly in the situations of internal
conflict that have become such an integral part of the region’s
socio-politics. Unfortunately, our dominant response to these
complicated issues is generally one of two. We either remain
within a framework of liberal internationalism that naively
believes in the goodness of an ‘international community’;
or our response originates among nationalists of various guises,
who believe in an ahistorical notion of sovereignty.
The time has come for us in
the global south to break through this conceptual trap, which
does not provide us a framework with which to deal with these
international interventions. All our societies are now already
a part of globalised capitalism. Our belief in the sovereignty
of the nation-state will not isolate us from it. Neither can
we afford to go along with liberal internationalism naively.
Globalisation, while integrating the world, also brings out
differences more sharply. How global factors affect South
Asia will thus be a result of our own histories and social
conditions. Only a much closer look at our specific historical
situations will help us to identify spaces within global capitalism
that we can make use of for our own purposes. And only in
this lies the foundation for a new politics with which to
deal with international intervention.
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