Rajapakse must arrange a systematic withdrawal for the good of Sri Lanka:

Chaminda Lakshan, a 41-year-old father of two who was part of a group of distraught people who had been waiting for days for a meager gasoline ration at a price they couldn't afford, was shot dead by police on April 19 in Ram bukkana, Sri Lanka.

He joins a long list of persons who have been killed by the government for daring to criticize the institutionalized suppression of democratic dissent, or for expressing genuine grievances or inconvenient truths.

Most of these incidents have been followed by highly sanitized media announcements, most recently delivered by Senior Police Spokesman, the bland Ajith Rehana, SDIG, exonerating the agents of any wrongdoings even before an investigation was launched, portraying such killings as justifiable acts of self-defense or the use of appropriate force. In the lack of any witnesses other than the State agents responsible for the fatalities, or the unwillingness of witnesses to offer information for fear of retaliation, the inquiring magistrate is forced to accept the perpetrators' version.

DIG Rohana discreetly snuck in the rider that the victim Lakshan had two court cases against him during his formal testimony on the Rambukkana incident as if to imply that execution was justified in this case. Perhaps it escaped his notice that several members of the current Parliament have been, and continue to be, accused of various crimes at various times. Both the President and the Prime Minister are included.

All of the above murders occurred during the Rajapaksa administrations, with Mahinda as President and Gotabaya as Secretary of Defense, and most recently, with Gotabaya as President and Mahinda as Prime Minister. Between January 2015 and October 2019, no similar killings were reported. That regime was ineffective, but it did not use murder to quell opposition.

None of the assailants in the aforementioned killings have been brought to justice, as one might expect. In this case, Prasanna Ranatunga, the newly appointed Minister of Public Security, quickly justified the killing in Parliament, claiming that if the police had not opened fire to prevent the Bowser from being set on fire, at least 300 people would have died, though it has yet to be determined whether the protesters actually attempted to set the Bowser on fire.

The inquiry into the incident has been tainted from the start, with questions about its objectivity. The very first is "The Kegalle Magistrate dismissed a report documenting an incident that did not necessarily involve a crime. Wasana Navaratne, because the incident resulted in a death. Following that, a hastily constructed " "-port was chastised by her since it contained unacceptably many changes and deletions.

Eyewitnesses to the incident claim that live rounds were fired at fleeing citizens, and one eyewitness claimed on television at the funeral home of the late Lakshan, in the presence of Sarath Fonseka MP, a number of local Buddhist priests, and other people, that the police threatened to tie him up by his feet if he testified at the inquiry. The same man claimed several times that a ruling party MP's secretary was involved in manipulating events and establishing the atmosphere that led to the shooting. The claimed severity of the shooting—against unarmed civilians—and the nature of the commands provided to the shooters suggested that the shooting was not only a sham to prevent potential violence but motivated by a desire to kill.

There are also claims that the police set fire to a three-wheeler. Members of the Buddhist clergy who were present at the demonstration site allege that the protestors and the Rambukkana police officers on duty interacted in a friendly manner, but that the chaos was caused by a contingent from the Kegalle police, led by SSP Keerthiratne.

The IGP told the Human Rights Commission that he did not order the local police to open fire on the demonstrators. The CID has taken over the original investigation into the event, which had been handled by the Rambukkana Police. Overall, the sequence of events is eerily similar to earlier investigations, conducted under similar conditions, by successive regimes, in which state agencies were clearly seen to overstep their bounds. Everything points to a standard cover-up approach, which is common among Sri Lankan cops and frequent among fascist regimes around the world. Victims recant accusations, witnesses acquire amnesia, witnesses die or vanish with evidence, and crime sites are cleansed shortly after an incident, obliterating clues and preventing any effective detective inquiry.

Meanwhile, on the President's orders, a gazette notification has been issued, deploying the Tri-Forces to maintain public order in 25 designated districts. Surprisingly, there has been no public reaction to a development that is similar to pouring dynamite into a fire in the context of the existing unrest.

This is just another perfect illustration of Gotabaya Rajapakse's rigid worldview, in which there is no room for basic common sense, logical weighing of possibilities, or weighing of other points of view, all of which are jointly to blame for the country's current predicament. It is the restricted worldview of an ill-informed military guy who believes that the most effective way to exercise control is through the barrel of a rifle. Political power is defined as a fundamental component of the glue that holds a country together as well as the ability to control it. But, as we have seen all over the world, mistreatment leads to strong civic response and revolution; Sri Lanka now is the classic case of South Asia, if not the entire world.

The way a regime in power treats its ordinary citizens, the poor, the marginalized, and the vulnerable, demonstrates its character and integrity by ensuring that those classes have the same rights and access to basic needs and facilities, and, most importantly, to justice, as the economically, socially, and politically privileged. The value of a nation is best evaluated by how it treats its minority, especially in a multicultural culture. Our administration has failed on the first coast, as have previous regimes, and our country has failed itself on the second. But now is the time to make amends for both mistakes.

The existing leadership can and should embrace the people's verdict and relinquish power. The nation has proved its ability to heal and bridge the racial and religious divisions that successive rulers have exploited in order to obtain power in the recent rallies against a government that has lost legitimacy. For the first time since 1948, when the country gained independence. Sri Lanka, which has always been a broken society, has now become a nation in its hour of need.

Why must Gotabaya be so obstinate in the face of widespread opposition? He is not a career politician, but a man who rose to power as a result of a confluence of fortunate circumstances, including voter dissatisfaction with an inept previous regime, the adoration of a large segment of the Sangha, and brother Mahinda's fervent desire to keep a Rajapaksa in power until the launching pad for son Namal to run for the presidency, or the premiership, is secure. Another aspect is that letting go of the reigns poses a personal risk for individuals who have shamelessly misused authority through "malfeasance in office" for so long.

If Gotabaya Rajapaksa can drag himself out of the dark cavern that is his mind and, with the constitutional power still at his command, catalyze the change that the country so sorely needs, he can still prevent disaster and emerge from the current crisis with some dignity. A well-structured exit will allow for smooth restoration. If he does not, he and the Rajapaksa family, as well as the entire country, would be incinerated in the ensuing inferno.