Four words summed up the outlook for retired general Sarath Fonseka when he boarded a black BMW and sped away from his hotel last night as the emphatic loser in Sri Lanka’s presidential election.
“I’m going to hell,” he told The Times with a dry smile when asked what he would do now that Mahinda Rajapaksa, the incumbent, had been declared winner in the first poll since the Tamil Tigers’ defeat in May.
As the former army chief who led the campaign against the Tigers, the general had been assigned 70 soldiers and ten vehicles to protect him from an attack by the rebels’ remnants or successors. Once the results were out, however, his bodyguard was ordered back to barracks — a nail in the coffin for a man who still bears the scars of an assassination attempt in 2006.
After a tense stand-off with troops surrounding the hotel, the defeated general sped off to an unspecified destination in a motorcade of only five cars carrying mostly civilian aides. His departure capped a day of a political melodrama that confirmed President Rajapaksa’s unassailable grip on power on this island, but undermined its once proud status as South Asia’s oldest democracy.
It began in the early hours when troops surrounded the Cinnamon Lakeside hotel — a popular British tourist haunt where the general and other opposition leaders had moved their campaign headquarters the previous night. The reason for the army’s move, it said, was that the general had an entourage of 400 people, including armed deserters, who were possibly planning a coup. “They are highly trained military people,” said Brigadier Udaya Nanayakkara, an army spokesman. “We are suspicious about their gathering.”
The general denied using deserters and handed over nine retired soldiers but the military cordon remained in place to the bemusement of tourists and guests attending a wedding inside the hotel.
By midday it was clear that Mr Rajapska had won as much as 60 per cent of the vote, but the general stayed silent, locked in consultations with the opposition politicians who had backed him. Finally, he emerged from his room to announce that he rejected the results and had sent a letter to the independent election commissioner asking him to nullify the poll. “Victory has been grabbed away from us by the Government,” he said, adding that he would mount a legal challenge. “There is no democracy here.”
He accused Mr Rajapaksa of using the state media to attack him, misappropriating public funds for his campaign and preventing displaced Tamils from voting.
Even as he was speaking, the final results were being announced by Dayananda Dissanayake, the Election Commissioner, dashing opposition hopes that the general could split the vote of the ethnic Sinhalese majority and win enough support from minority Tamils and Muslims to deny Mr Rajapaksa another six years in power.
Mr Dissanayake appeared to agree with the opposition’s complaints, saying that state media had violated his guidelines and other government institutions had behaved in an embarrassing way. But he is unlikely to review the result because he declared his intention to resign immediately. “I request to be released,” he said yesterday. “I cannot bear this any more.”
Mr Rajapaksa, who came to power in 2005, dismissed such concerns and promised to rebuild ties with Western countries, which have distanced themselves over alleged war crimes during the conflict with the Tigers.
He also said that General Fonseka’s life was not in danger. But with no sign of protests to support him, and no security to protect him, analysts said the general had few options but to drop his challenge or head overseas.
He admitted as much earlier in the day, saying the removal of his security detail would leave him as “naked prey”. He has residency rights in the US and two daughters studying in Oklahoma. One opposition leader suggested the General might head to India when he said he was meeting a foreign diplomat “from a neigbouring country” to negotiate safe passage.
As he prepared to confront the troops outside the hotel last night the general insisted he would continue his political career. But he admitted his options were limited. “Actually I might see you in the UK,” he told The Times. “I might need asylum there.”
“I’m going to hell,” he told The Times with a dry smile when asked what he would do now that Mahinda Rajapaksa, the incumbent, had been declared winner in the first poll since the Tamil Tigers’ defeat in May.
As the former army chief who led the campaign against the Tigers, the general had been assigned 70 soldiers and ten vehicles to protect him from an attack by the rebels’ remnants or successors. Once the results were out, however, his bodyguard was ordered back to barracks — a nail in the coffin for a man who still bears the scars of an assassination attempt in 2006.
After a tense stand-off with troops surrounding the hotel, the defeated general sped off to an unspecified destination in a motorcade of only five cars carrying mostly civilian aides. His departure capped a day of a political melodrama that confirmed President Rajapaksa’s unassailable grip on power on this island, but undermined its once proud status as South Asia’s oldest democracy.
It began in the early hours when troops surrounded the Cinnamon Lakeside hotel — a popular British tourist haunt where the general and other opposition leaders had moved their campaign headquarters the previous night. The reason for the army’s move, it said, was that the general had an entourage of 400 people, including armed deserters, who were possibly planning a coup. “They are highly trained military people,” said Brigadier Udaya Nanayakkara, an army spokesman. “We are suspicious about their gathering.”
The general denied using deserters and handed over nine retired soldiers but the military cordon remained in place to the bemusement of tourists and guests attending a wedding inside the hotel.
By midday it was clear that Mr Rajapska had won as much as 60 per cent of the vote, but the general stayed silent, locked in consultations with the opposition politicians who had backed him. Finally, he emerged from his room to announce that he rejected the results and had sent a letter to the independent election commissioner asking him to nullify the poll. “Victory has been grabbed away from us by the Government,” he said, adding that he would mount a legal challenge. “There is no democracy here.”
He accused Mr Rajapaksa of using the state media to attack him, misappropriating public funds for his campaign and preventing displaced Tamils from voting.
Even as he was speaking, the final results were being announced by Dayananda Dissanayake, the Election Commissioner, dashing opposition hopes that the general could split the vote of the ethnic Sinhalese majority and win enough support from minority Tamils and Muslims to deny Mr Rajapaksa another six years in power.
Mr Dissanayake appeared to agree with the opposition’s complaints, saying that state media had violated his guidelines and other government institutions had behaved in an embarrassing way. But he is unlikely to review the result because he declared his intention to resign immediately. “I request to be released,” he said yesterday. “I cannot bear this any more.”
Mr Rajapaksa, who came to power in 2005, dismissed such concerns and promised to rebuild ties with Western countries, which have distanced themselves over alleged war crimes during the conflict with the Tigers.
He also said that General Fonseka’s life was not in danger. But with no sign of protests to support him, and no security to protect him, analysts said the general had few options but to drop his challenge or head overseas.
He admitted as much earlier in the day, saying the removal of his security detail would leave him as “naked prey”. He has residency rights in the US and two daughters studying in Oklahoma. One opposition leader suggested the General might head to India when he said he was meeting a foreign diplomat “from a neigbouring country” to negotiate safe passage.
As he prepared to confront the troops outside the hotel last night the general insisted he would continue his political career. But he admitted his options were limited. “Actually I might see you in the UK,” he told The Times. “I might need asylum there.”
