Politics is made of revolving doors. Made for goings and comings. There was a time when people used to watch and lampoon Ronnie De Mel. And later Anura Bandaranaike. Pole-vaulters, they were called. Since then we’ve had cross-overs galore. There are no longer party stalwarts. They are temporary residents, strangers seeking a roof on a rainy night. Parties are not parties but IDP facilities.
Today it is all about here today, gone tomorrow, back again the day after. It has come to point where people might as well vote for party and allow party to nominate representative to Parliament. Election time is a moment for quick political calculation. It is a time for politicians to gamble. They have to pick the winner; they have to calculate where to stand now so that they can have a running start to the bag of goodies that is theirs for picking later.
Of course this is not what is said at the grand-farewell, organized usually by the welcoming party. It is about ideological differences, about disillusionment with the leadership, wanting to do the right thing by the people, serving the nation etc etc. It all boils down to one thing: prospects. If you’ve burnt your boats and have been reduced to a nonentity, you might as well quit and if you are jumping aboard a more stable ship all the better.
A lot of things are said when loyalties shift. Politicians have big mouths. They talk a lot. They forget that they are all potential IDPs. They forget that some of what they say gets recorded and that some people have memories. Crossing-over time is then a moment for recollection, of looking back in anger and throwing quotes at the bad guy and the party he has taken refuge in.
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