Sinhala Buddhist Vote Base and the Presidential Election

Six weeks before the 2005 presidential election, Victor Ivan works through whether it can be won on Sinhala Buddhist votes alone. He begins by conceding the JVP’s pre-2004 argument was arithmetically sound: had the SLFP, JVP and EPDP contested together in 2001 they would have outpolled the UNP-led alliance by 27,579 votes. Contesting as one in 2004 they gained only 5,019 votes on their separate 2001 total, took 108 seats without a majority, and were outpolled by the combined opposition by some seven lakhs — 46.04% against 53.96%. But a presidential election is a different instrument: two contenders, one national constituency, and a winner who must clear half the vote. Ivan estimates the Sinhala Buddhist electorate at 6,094,667 of roughly 9.16 million valid votes, meaning a candidate relying on it alone would need 75% of it — a target he does not think easily attainable. He notes too why minorities prefer the presidential system: with the Sinhala vote split between the main parties, their votes can decide who becomes head of state.

Overcoming the disaster

Victor Ivan treats the December 2004 tsunami as a test the Sri Lankan state failed. Warning instruments existed and went unused; the armed forces were instructed too late to be effective outside the north-east where they were already concentrated. Forty-eight hours after the waves the government allocated Rs 100 million in urgent relief — a hundred rupees a head for a million destitute — and eight days later the President’s office put reconstruction at Rs 100 billion against the Central Bank’s provisional Rs 400 billion, a sum equal to a full year of government spending or three years of Tokyo consortium aid. In twenty minutes the country lost lives and property comparable to twenty years of war. Ivan argues the two catastrophes cannot be addressed separately, since housing tsunami victims alone would affront those displaced by the fighting, and calls for a two-year all-party government charged with physical reconstruction and with enacting a new constitution — something he thinks civil society will have to compel the parties to accept.

Does Prabhakaran have an answer?

Victor Ivan reads Prabhakaran’s Heroes’ Day speech as a shrewd account of southern politics. The LTTE leader traces the breakdown back to Washington, where the UNP’s participation in the aid conference denied his organisation equal-partner status; he rejects every interim administration draft the government produced, insists talks resume on the LTTE’s own ISGA proposals, and refuses to see an interim authority tied to a final settlement — suspecting the President of wanting to please the JVP, mislead the international community, or simply prolong matters indefinitely. He then challenges every southern party to state publicly where it stands on territory, nationhood and self-determination, and warns that Tamil patience has limits. Ivan judges the ball now in Sinhala hands and finds none of them willing to hold it: Wickremesinghe wanting the talks to last until he is President, the President subordinating the ethnic question to her own invalidation problem, and neither able to move without the JVP’s consent. He closes with a warning that the Sinhala people may come to detest their own leaders enough to say Prabhakaran is good for us too.

Will a Parliamentary Election be a Solution to the Problem?

Victor Ivan evaluates whether holding a parliamentary general election will resolve the political deadlock between the President and the Prime Minister. Using electoral data under Sri Lanka’s Proportional Representation system, Ivan projects that neither a PA-JVP alliance nor the UNF can win an absolute parliamentary majority on its own. Consequently, any future government will be forced to rely on Tamil representatives from the North and East—most notably the LTTE-backed TNA—to form a majority. Ivan warns that this creates a severe governance paradox: a government reliant on LTTE-aligned MPs for its survival would struggle to credibly negotiate peace with the LTTE while maintaining public trust, ultimately leading to an even deeper political stalemate than before.

The Donkey and the Carrot

This article critiques the Sri Lankan government’s flawed approach to peace negotiations following the LTTE’s temporary withdrawal from talks. Author Victor Ivan argues that the government treats the conflict using a simplistic “carrot and stick” model appropriate for a defeated adversary, rather than treating the LTTE as an undefeated entity requiring parity and genuine trust. The piece warns against over-relying on international clout—specifically the U.S. factor—to intimidate the LTTE, which risks alienating both the Tamil rebels and neighboring India. Additionally, it highlights critical administrative missteps, such as excluding the LTTE from the Washington pre-aid conference and failing to implement post-war rehabilitation and resettlement programs due to bureaucratic inefficiency.

Democratization of the Country

This article explores the deeper socio-political fractures in Sri Lanka, arguing that the nation’s violent conflicts have been driven as much by caste oppression as by ethnic divisions. The author points out that both Prabhakaran in the North and Wijeweera in the South led armed rebellions that fundamentally challenged the entrenched dominance of the Vellala and Govigama castes. Highlighting historical examples of political exclusion based on caste—such as C.P. de Silva being denied party leadership—the article contends that Sri Lanka’s rigid political framework fails to accommodate marginalized voices. Ultimately, the author calls for a new, flexible constitution that guarantees true democratic participation and protects all minority groups from the tyranny of the majority.

Caste oppression and youth unrest

Writing on the twenty-second anniversary of the 1971 rebellion, Victor Ivan argues that caste oppression has been an underrated driver of youth revolt in both the south and the north. Drawing on Gananath Obeyesekera, Janice Jiggins and Bryce Ryan’s Caste in Modern Ceylon, he shows that JVP strength concentrated in areas where oppressed castes — Wahumpura, Bathgama, Nekathi — were dense, a pattern the Presidential Commission on Youth Unrest also recorded. These groups entered the capitalist economy late, gained education late, and remain under-represented in Parliament. Ivan extends the analysis to the Tamil militancy, reading it as a struggle against Vellala domination as much as for national freedom, and suggests that both movements refuse to disarm because returning to democratic politics would mean returning to high-caste dominance. A Ravaya reader survey finding the JVP still esteemed by a tenth of Sinhala society leads him to warn of room for a third uprising.

ද්‍රවිඩ ජනයා  – ලංකාවේ වමට අභියෝගයක්!

Writing in 1979, Victor Ivan challenges Sri Lanka’s Marxists — reformist and radical alike — over their deliberate silence on the Tamil national struggle in the north. They mount poster campaigns and solidarity rallies for oppressed nations abroad, he observes, yet stand mute before a struggle on their own doorstep. He tests their consistency against Bangladesh: the Awami League was no Marxist movement, but the Left correctly backed its independence struggle, measuring the case by whether the people were oppressed rather than by the class character of their leadership. Why, he asks, does that yardstick stop at Jaffna? Rejecting the equation of oppressor and oppressed nationalism — one cannot equate the Black Panthers with the Klan — Ivan argues that the Left’s opportunist alliance with Sinhala-Buddhist chauvinism is what makes it unable to support a just demand, and that only by joining the struggle rather than lecturing it from outside can Marxists rebuild the broken Sinhala-Tamil unity.