Sri Lanka's poll opens a new political divide

If Australians think about Sri Lanka in other than cricketing contexts, it will most likely be in connection with the island's bitter civil war and the flow of asylum seekers unleashed by the end of that conflict. The seaborne asylum seekers whose desperate plight last year revived contention about refugee policy in this country were Sri Lankan Tamils, which gives Australians - whatever stance they take in the so-called ''border protection'' debate - a particular interest in the outcome of Sri Lanka's presidential election.

In counting yesterday President Mahinda Rajapaksa had established a commanding lead over his main rival, former army chief Sarath Fonseka, after a poll in which more than 70 per cent of eligible Sri Lankans turned out to vote. The acrimonious and sometimes violent campaign preceding the election was evidence - were any needed - that the end of war is not the same as the beginning of peace. The new enmity between Mr Rajapaksa and Mr Fonseka, who worked closely together during Sri Lanka's war against the insurgent Tamil Tigers, suggests that the balance of Sri Lankan politics began to tilt in this election, the first in 26 years not to have been fought against the backdrop of war. That change may ultimately prove to be of greater consequence than the election result itself.

Mr Rajapaksa and Mr Fonseka are both considered heroes by the island's Sinhalese majority because of their victory over the Tigers, though each man claims that the other has tried to deprive him of due credit. Both have also been accused of human rights violations during the war, in which many civilians died. In the aftermath many others were interned, in concentration camp-like squalor, because they were suspected of having supported the Tigers. A US State Department report in October concluded that some of the military's actions could be described as war crimes, and the UN estimates that 7000 Tamil civilians died in the closing months of the war.

The savage repression after the Government's victory caused the exodus of asylum seekers; it did not, however, prevent the Tamil National Alliance, the minority's main political party, aligning itself with the Fonseka cause during the campaign. This was not only because there are no longer any Tigers threatening violent retribution against Tamils who participate in Sri Lankan civil politics, or even because Mr Fonseka has said that he is willing to face scrutiny of his role in the war, which Mr Rajapaksa refuses.

Mr Fonseka campaigned against the concentration of executive power in the office of president, calling for the prerogatives of parliament to be restored. That struck a chord with Tamils, who regard Mr Rajapaksa as the greater evil because of the Government's conduct of the war, with other minorities such as Sri Lanka's Muslim community, and above all with members of the Sinhalese majority alarmed by the spread of corruption in the Government. The result was a broad coalition unimaginable a year ago. It was a tentative alliance, united chiefly by opposition to Mr Rajapaksa and members of his family who have prospered during his time in office. The fact that Mr Fonseka was able to assemble such a coalition at all, however, points to the potential for a transformation of Sri Lankan politics in the years to come.

The pattern of voting in yesterday's election, however, suggests that this prospect remains a remote one. The turnout in Tamil areas was low, depriving Mr Fonseka of votes he needed to counter Mr Rajapaksa's support in the Sinhalese south of the country. It is hardly a surprise that Sri Lanka's old divisions still influence voter attitudes: more than 270,000 Tamils were interned after the war, and more than 100,000 remain in the camps. For the present, however, what matters most is what role military force will play in Sri Lankan politics - and in that respect, the commandos who surrounded Mr Fonseka's hotel yesterday are an ill omen.

© The Age