If J.R. Jayewardene had not held a referendum, the 1988 rebellion would not have happened, a former JVP rebel told the media.
He asked: “What if J.R. had held a general election in 1982 instead?”
If a general election had been held, the JVP would almost certainly have won three or four seats. In the 1982 presidential election, Rohana Wijeweera polled 4.19% of the vote—more than Anura Kumara Dissanayake managed in the 2019 presidential election, when he received only 3.16%. This suggests that the JVP could have secured more seats in 1982 than it eventually did in 2020.
Had that happened, Wijeweera himself would have entered Parliament. In that case, J.R. would not have banned the JVP. Without the ban, the party would not have been forced underground, and without going underground, it would not have launched an armed rebellion.
If J.R. had held a general election in 1982 or 1983 under the proportional representation system, the opposition SLFP would likely have won 60–70 seats. Parliament would then have included leaders such as Vijaya Kumaratunga and Rohana Wijeweera, and Vijaya’s assassination might have been avoided.
But J.R.’s decision to hold a referendum changed everything. The first referendum was designed to extend the life of Parliament. J.R. was determined to win it “by hook or by crook”.
The opposition proposed a united front to defeat the referendum, but it never materialised. The vote was held while Vijaya Kumaratunga—the most charismatic figure in the opposition—was in remand custody, along with his colleagues Osi Abeyagunasekara and Felix Perera. J.R. knew that winning the referendum would be no easy task, and in several areas the government allegedly resorted to electoral fraud.
In the 1982 presidential election, SLFP candidate Hector Kobbekaduwa’s vote was reportedly cast through impersonation. In the Attanagalla electorate, SLFP polling agents were allegedly chased away. When the referendum results were announced, it was clear to the public that the election had been marred by allegations of fraud.
Renowned counter-terrorism expert Professor Rohan Gunaratna, in his book A Lost Revolution? The Inside Story of the JVP, describes these events in detail.
When the author asked President J.R. Jayewardene, while he was still in office, whether holding a referendum could be justified, he replied, “Yes.” Yet, after retiring from the presidency, when the same question was put to him again, J.R. admitted that holding a referendum had been a mistake.
In Sri Lanka, the very word “referendum” often brings to mind the infamous “lampu kalagedi” (rigged ballot box) episode. After the referendum was held, Elections Commissioner Chandrananda de Silva reportedly described it as a corrupt and fraudulent exercise.
Following J.R.’s referendum, in 2001 President Chandrika Kumaratunga decided to hold another referendum—this time to abolish the executive presidency and introduce a new constitution. But that was not her only motive; the immediate political crisis was the loss of her government’s parliamentary majority. The Muslim Congress, which had helped her secure that majority, withdrew from the coalition. With no majority left, the opposition UNP and JVP demanded an immediate parliamentary election. Knowing that she was likely to lose, Chandrika sought a way out.
At the time, the opposition had already filed an impeachment motion against Chief Justice Sarath Silva. Chandrika knew that if the motion came to a vote, the Chief Justice could be forced out. To silence the opposition and avoid exposing her lack of a parliamentary majority, she prorogued Parliament and announced a sudden poll.
The UNP plastered the country with posters calling her “Hitlerwati…” (“Like Hitler”). Both the UNP and JVP began informal talks to unite against her referendum. Mangala Samaraweera, one of Chandrika’s closest allies, calculated the numbers and realised that she could not win. If she withdrew the referendum, both she and her government would face political collapse. His solution was to seek JVP support.
The JVP set conditions, the first being the cancellation of the referendum. Cornered, Chandrika accepted. The referendum was immediately scrapped.
Now, twenty-five years later, the debate over referendums has resurfaced. This time, it is tied to a possible Supreme Court ruling that extending the retirement age of judges would require a referendum.
If such a referendum were held, the government would have to convince the public that spending billions merely to extend judges’ tenure was worthwhile. It might argue: “This referendum is to strengthen the judiciary so that thieves can be caught.” It might even claim: “Spending billions on a referendum to recover billions stolen from the people is no crime.”
Yet the public may recall that in the recent local government elections, the President and the government campaigned on a promise to catch thieves and clean up corruption. The people gave them only 43.26% of the vote. At that time, the opposition was divided. But in a referendum, the opposition would unite under a common symbol, giving it a major advantage.
Even in the local elections, the government failed to reach 45%, let alone 50%. To win a referendum, the government must secure at least 50%. It is a gamble.
If the government wins, the opposition is finished. If it loses, the government itself is finished.
Will the government cut its own throat?
