John Adams, renowned as both a profound political philosopher and the second President of the United States, left a lasting impact with his assertion, “A government of laws, and not of men.” This principle highlights the idea that authority, regardless of its stature, is bound by the rule of law rather than individual whims.
In a constitutional democracy, where governance is defined by a codified set of rules, even the highest echelons of power are not above these established provisions. Currently, approximately 167 countries adhere to various forms of constitutional frameworks, and about 24 have embraced a robust model of democracy. While the term “constitutional democracy” may evoke complex ideological debates, its essence is straightforward: it signifies that all states are constitutional.
Consider Great Britain as a prime example. Our citizens learned from their 10th Grade Social Studies textbook that the UK lacks a single written Constitution, yet the nation remains firmly entrenched in constitutional democracy. The absence of a codified Constitution has not deterred Britain from upholding democratic principles. Despite being led by a monarchy with a royal dynasty, the core of British governance lies in its democratic evaluation system, which has evolved over the past three centuries. The essence of British governance is reflected in its evolved democratic practices, which have developed over centuries. This is underpinned by historical documents such as the Magna Carta and legislative measures like the Right to Recall law introduced in 2015, alongside numerous ordinances enacted by the Westminster Parliament.
This complex introduction is intended to provide context for understanding the current chaanges in Sri Lanka. Like Great Britain, Sri Lanka is a wonderful nation with an established democratic framework. Unfortunately, it is disheartening that the political leadership in Sri Lanka does not fully embrace John Adams’s fundamental principle: that laws and constitutions are the property of the State, not the personal assets of individuals.
To grasp this issue fully, we must delve a bit deeper. Sri Lanka has been recognised as a republic since 1972, with the term “republic” deriving from Greek origins, signifying the exploration of the practical concept of rule by the people in essence. Presently, Sri Lanka operates under its Second Republic Constitution, which was enacted in 1978. This framework aligns with the fundamental characteristics of a republic observed on the global stage, particularly the election-based selection of leaders known as the Leadership race through elections.
Recent developments
Recent developments highlight the relevance of this republican characteristic. Last month, two Fundamental Rights petitions were submitted to the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka. If the Court grants the relief requested in these petitions, it could lead to the postponement of the upcoming Presidential Election, illustrating the dynamic interplay between constitutional principles and electoral processes.
However, the Supreme Court of Sri Lanka rejected both petitions, not only dismissing them but also imposing Court fees on the petitioners. This decisive action highlights the Court’s unconditional commitment to safeguarding the Constitution, a duty that is often taken for granted. To see a contrasting example, one needs to look no further than Indonesia.
On 27 November, Indonesia will hold elections for governors, deputy governors and mayors. A significant issue has arisen concerning President Joko Widodo’s third son, who will turn 30 only a month after the election. This age requirement is a constitutional stipulation for candidates vying for the Jakarta Governorship. The issue primarily concerns the President’s family rather than national interests yet the Supreme Court’s response to this matter when the President sought their interpretation has puzzled the public, leaving many Indonesians surprised by the Court’s focus.
The Indonesian Top Court ruled that the age requirement of 30 years for candidates applies only to those running for regional positions, not to individuals like Kaesang Pangarep, the President’s youngest son. The Court determined that this age limit does not extend to candidates nominated by top political parties and groups for higher offices. This decision has triggered widespread criticism from law-abiding citizens, who accuse the Court of facilitating nepotism and favouring family politics.
In Sri Lanka, a similar manoeuvre occurred during the 19th Constitutional Amendment, which raised the minimum age for presidential candidates from 30 to 35. While this amendment was largely seen as a positive reform, there were suggestions that the age increase was intended to prevent younger figures, such as Namal Rajapaksa, from entering the presidential race. This raises a critical lesson: the misuse of constitutional amendments for personal or political gain, a practice exemplified both in Indonesia’s recent legal controversies and Sri Lanka’s own constitutional history.
Let’s return to the core issue. We’ve emphasised that leadership should be established through elections, as constitutional democracy mandates. So why do we encounter petitions, rumours and allegations in the Courts? The answer is straightforward: our current leader has seemingly undervalued the significance of the ballot paper.
The primary ambition of our next President seems to be to keep the undecided voters in suspense, hoping to secure their support through confusion and uncertainty. However, the principles of constitutional democracy will not support such a strategy. Instead, on 17 October, our countrymen will select a new President through a process overseen by the five-member Election Commission.