Plight Of The Poorest Of The Poor; Is It Getting Better Or Worse?

“In a country well governed, poverty is something to be ashamed of. In a country badly governed, wealth is something to be ashamed of.” – Confucius

February 25, 2017

In a desolate landscape, orphaned by any promise of rain or wind, in a still gloomy surrounding of trees and shrub, a lone farmer is tilling his land until sunset. Sunset in this arid zone is a spectacle of rioting colors, all the colors of the rainbow, from crimson red to violet and orange and blue, all dancing to a riotous order. But our farmer is woefully oblivious of that brilliant splendor. Far out on the horizon, a hazy column of clouds deters any human eye from seeing the fine line that divides land and the skies. But the hoeing goes on for it is the season for preparation of the soil before rains arrive, filling the manmade tank allowing the field channels to gush along the precious waters to the land of the farmer. Bare-bodied and exposing a half-starved, an almost emaciated figure of man, our farmer’s daily life is made up of physically tiring tasks. Whether driving a heavy digging hoe into a hardened earth and turning it around, one hammering after another, with sweat pouring down from his frail shoulders to his hollow parts of the outer stomach, or finishing flimsy repairs to a worn-out thatched roof of his old shack of home, he is not impeded by rain or shine. Demands on his labor are not foreclosed.

We have not yet arrived at the doorstep of a total disarray of our economic life. We hope that where administration of governmental affairs is in tatters, the economy collapsing, where all vital indices are showing an alarming downward trend, men, women and children drifting on the streets like ants without a queen-ant, will not arrive soon. Today there is no foreign enemy to point the finger at or as against a target to galvanize a hapless army of unarmed men; instead we have wretched politicians taking credit for an unknown accomplishment. The farmer had gone through this worthless terrain of early-twenty-first-century-politics. Snaking from one selfish leader to another, he has gone weary of the journey. The social burden he carries is enormous and his knees are buckling down- one physically and the other spiritually. Physically it’s emaciating him beyond recognition. The strapper of a man at the time he married his village sweetheart, is now a mere skeleton with some occasional flesh here and there. Our farmer was never affiliated to any political school of thought nor was he attached to any political organization at village level.

This great human odyssey is being played in every corner of our rural hamlets and villages. Their inhabitants’ inexorable struggle to keep their families contended and their stomachs full and spirit breathing is a hard daily routine. To relieve their melee of cruel hardships imposed by their own lack of education, their being born with no bequest of land from their parents and with many mouths to feed, their being exploited by the village lender and a heartless system that keeps trampling the poor and rewarding the rich and avaricious is a great story to tell. It is a great tale to chronicle.

Successive governments have failed to do the bare minimal for the poor, except perhaps the exception of R Premadasa, despite his dubious record in the exercise of governmental power, somewhat dictatorially- as argued by some, in a Stalinist-fashion. Premadasa is one political leader who has no match when determining to accomplish quite difficult tasks for the poorest of the poor. When Premadasa spoke for the poor, no political leader doubted his commitment. No organization doubted his authenticity.

Ransinghe Premadasa did not hail from those exalted halls of urban sophistication. In fact he did not pay any respect for that class which was rich in snobbery and miserably deficient in real commitment to alleviation of poverty. Classified as belonging to déclassé, Premadasa is one leader who commanded the respect of those so-called sophisticated class to an infinite degree and at the same time treated them like mere mortals whose riches were mainly owing to the closeness of connection they enjoyed with those in power. I have written extensively on the subject of ‘Premadasa Exceptionalism’, but that was principally limited to his social and political milieu. Premadasa’s accomplishments in the field of economic development are creditworthy to say the least. Although his Executive Presidential tenure was slashed down way before he completed his full term, his term as Prime Minister, as second-in-command in the J R Jayewardene-government was the one that brought much fame and praise. As Minister of Local Government, Housing and Construction, Premadasa’s contribution to the massive development program undertaken during that time was not second to the stupendous accomplishments of Gamini Dissanayake in the Lands and Mahaweli field and Lalith Athulathmudali’s achievements in the development of the Port.

When one looks at the present set of politicians, one does not find another R Premadasa. R Premadasa’s rivals were not limited to the traditional Opposition. Late in his career they came from within. And he did not handle that with prudence and wisdom. With the departure of Premadasa, the destiny of the United National Party also took a nasty twist. Seventeen years in power is too long for any party to be holding reins of power.

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