winning president doesn't do things in halves. Six years ago, Mahinda Rajapaksa tried to talk peace with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam – and failed. So he made his brother the defence secretary, injected resources into the military like never before, gathered some efficient commanders around him and obliterated the LTTE in the face of biting international criticism over alleged human rights violations. Today, he displays the same enthusiasm towards cultivating himself as he did then towards vanquishing Velupillai Prabhakaran, the clandestine leader of the Tamil Tigers. Prabhakaran was a ruthless killer. He assembled a sophisticated terrorist organization from scratch, forcibly recruited children to his army, slaughtered hundreds of civilians including Tamil politicians that he considered to be a threat or traitorous, and amassed an inventory of weapons that continues to baffle the mind. But if there is one thing that worked for Prabhakaran that now appears to be working for President Rajapaksa, it is the magic of the personality cult. No ruler, however popular, can sustain himself solely on the basis of performance. As the years progress, the public gets dissatisfied with the status quo and seeks change. That change will usually come through elections unless a leader is astute enough to safeguard his or her long-term survival in more ways than one. President Rajapaksa has certainly mastered the art. As a politician, he has proved himself astute, suave, focused, and strategic. He could charm the whiskers off a cat. And for when the charisma is no longer enough, he has put in place structures and legal provisions that will ensure his continuity. Earlier this year, he garnered a two-thirds majority in parliament by wooing over opposition members. This allowed him to change the constitution removing the two-term limit imposed on a ruling executive president. He then cemented his position through the same constitutional amendment by taking over appointments to all independent oversight institutions in the country. Crucially, this includes the Elections Commission that was introduced by a previous amendment to safeguard the integrity of the electoral process. It is this commission – staffed with the president's men – that will oversee the next presidential election. He is also empowered to appoint the auditor general who investigates government accounts, members of the judiciary, constituents of a commission tasked with probing bribery and corruption and officials of the public service commission. There isn't a single independent oversight institution left in the country. Last week, crossover parliamentarians that supported him to pass this ‘attractive' amendment were among those rewarded with ministerial posts at a cabinet reshuffle. An enormous cabinet comprising 62 ministers and 34 deputy ministers was sworn in on November 22. It came two days after President Rajapaksa took oaths for his second term (although he won the election ten months ago) at an expensive ceremony ending several days of costlier celebrations that also commemorated his 65th birthday. At first, it was not entirely clear what this mammoth cabinet will do. Another of President Rajapaksa's strategies has been to gather close family members, relatives, friends and henchmen around him like a protective cloak. His last cabinet – sworn in after the April 2010 parliamentary election – was proof of this. Most ministers were delegated negligible responsibilities and largely disappeared from the public eye. In contrast, more than 90 powerful government institutions were shared among the president, his younger brother Basil Rajapaksa (an elected MP) and another brother, Gotabaya, who is defence secretary. Telephones at the Department of Government Printing rang off the hook last week. Callers were eager to find out whether a special gazette outlining the subjects and functions of the new ministers was ready. The department's website was also jammed by too many users. Such intense curiosity about who will handle what might be a sign of interest in how much power, money and other resources will come under the control of the Rajapaksa brothers this time round. Meanwhile, splintering the cabinet into 62 ministries has evidently taken its toll on creativity. Several ministers will either have to trespass on each other's turf or do nothing. For instance, one cabinet member is tasked with public coordination while another is assigned public administration. One is expected to deal with something called ‘national assets' while another is in charge of ‘state assets'. One minister will sort out ‘rural affairs' while another will ensure that ‘urban affairs' are in order. What ‘affairs' these may be is anybody's guess. In the meantime, another minister will look after ‘rural community development' which apparently does not fall into the above category of ‘rural affairs'. The president is the minister of finance but has deployed another to tackle international monetary cooperation. The president is also minister of ports and aviation but another is minister of civil aviation. There is one minister for scientific affairs and another technology and research; one for transport and another for private transport services. There is one minister each for social integration, social welfare and social services. And so on. What, in actual fact, will this whole caboodle do? The gazette was not released last week because last minute additions to the draft kept coming from the presidential secretariat even after the official ceremony on November 22. Two ministers and several deputy ministers took oaths later in the week, prompting fears the cabinet would expand even further. When the gazette was finally printed this week, it bore few surprises. Ten ‘senior ministers' were not assigned any government institutions to oversee at all and it remains uncertain if they even have place at cabinet meetings. At least two cabinet ministers also have nothing under them. However, the president and his two brothers – Economic Development Minister Basil Rajapaksa and Defence Secretary Gotabhaya Rajapaksa – together control 86 powerful government departments, public corporations and institutions. Some departments (like the Attorney General's Department) are ‘missing' from the list. This may be an indication that another gazette will be issued quietly in future taking these too under the control of the president. There is no doubt that a cabinet of this proportion will be heavy on the public purse. Not only must tax payers meet the salaries of ministers, they must fork out money for rent payments (homes and offices), emoluments for numerous personal staff and advisors, allowances, education expenses for their children, vehicles and fuel, security and backup, stationery, sustenance, foreign travel, utility bills, telephone bills and other benefits voters know nothing about. And, yet, the majority of Sri Lankans remain willing to forgive their president anything – even barefaced nepotism, tremendous wastage and the obvious erosion of their civil liberties. For one thing, he has steamed ahead with extensive road building and other vital infrastructure projects such as power stations and a new port. But this may also be where the personality cult comes into play. Ever since he won the war in May 2009, and even before, President Rajapaksa has successfully propped up his image using gimmicks that sell among the majority Sinhala Buddhists. Chief among these is the liberal use of his face – with that charming smile framed by a neat, coal black moustache – on billboards, posters and other advertising tools. President Rajapaksa has also done nothing to discourage comparisons with ancient Sri Lankan kings; if anything, he has revelled in it. Songs hailing him as a monarch are played at public functions and on state television. News bulletins on these stations usually dedicate entire segments to one or other of the Rajapaksas, leaving the rest out in the cold (except when they are heard to be praising the president). A week of celebrations was held from November 15-22 to mark his birthday and second term inauguration, funded by the public. Despite it all, President Rajapaksa is well on his way. His future is successfully equated with the future of Sri Lanka. The message is that if he fails, Sri Lanka fails too – and one of the president's greatest achievements is that an entire nation willingly believes this. Namini Wijedasa is a senior journalist in Colombo __
