Sri Lanka’s e-NIC project

Polling amid a pandemic while preserving rule of law

Originally appeared on The Daily FT

By Prof. Rohan Samarajiva

As I let the contending views on how and when the General Election should be held wash over me, I am comforted by the fact that most participants in the conversation cite provisions from the Constitution. Those arguing that the Constitution is silent on the specific question before us, including the Elections Commission, want the Supreme Court to give a solution. In all, good signs that constitutionalism has not been abandoned. Constitutionalism is respect for words on paper that say what power holders can and cannot do; it is basically about the widespread respect for law; it is at the core of rule of law. In an essay I wrote just before the 2010 Presidential Election and then twice in 2015, just before the Presidential Election and then in a reflection on the Election and the subsequent 19th Amendment, I described the Sri Lankan polity as being torn between the default Kandyan feudal mindset and Constitutionalism. In 2010 we went one way and in 2015 the other way. Where will we end up in 2020?

Ending the impasse
The references to Articles of the Constitution by proponents of holding elections before the country returns to normalcy is obviously a good thing. It indicates that they place weight on what the Constitution says various entities can and cannot do. One hopes that the independent Election Commission will be able to navigate the rough waters ahead. They wished to seek guidance from the Supreme Court on the unanticipated situation the country finds itself in. But only the President can seek such interpretations according to the Constitution. The President’s refusal to serve as a conduit for the Election Commission has put the Commission in a hard place. What it can now do is to seek advice and assistance from the Attorney General and several independent counsel, recognised as eminent practitioners of constitutional law. The final decision will have to be made by the Commission. But the larger context is not conducive to optimism.

Why no emergency?
Let’s take the curfew and the various orders issued in relation to it. A curfew is a serious infringement of liberty. Millions have been prevented from engaging in their livelihoods; many have been compelled to draw down their savings and even pawn their valuables; businesses have suffered enormous losses; and so on. Thousands have been arrested for curfew violations. Let me be clear. These have been necessary sacrifices. I agree with the emergency measures that were implemented on advice from experts within Government on control of epidemics and from various parties including a trade union representing Government doctors. The success of the preventive measures may be seen by the relatively low incidences of cases (though it appears that South Asia is an outlier in terms of the disease). According to a recent report in The Hindu: “According to the latest figures, the eight SAARC nations account 1.1%, approximately of the world total of 2,265,727 coronavirus cases. In terms of fatalities, the SAARC total is half a percentage point or (0.49%) or 768 of the total of 155,145 people who have died of the infection.” This must be seen in relation to the fact that these eight countries are home to 21% of the world’s population. Yet, I am discomfited by the lawlessness of the anti-COVID-19 measures. In law-governed societies, the state does not violate the liberty of the citizens outside the powers set out in some form of written law. In countries that give primacy to the rule of law, actions necessary to deal with extraordinary events such as disasters, civil unrest and epidemics are taken under legislation that set out “states of exception” or states of emergency, which is the term used in Sri Lanka. The basic idea is that a piece of legislation defining the start and end of a state of emergency is approved by the Legislature and amended periodically as necessary. All actions during the state of emergency are taken according to emergency regulations promulgated under the law. These regulations are worked up by the Executive and need not be approved by the Legislature prior to coming into effect. But their very existence in written form allows the Legislature to modify or rescind them later and, most importantly, for affected citizens to challenge actions taken beyond what is permitted by regulation. Because of the abuse of the Public Security Ordinance, No. 25 of 1947, by various governments, especially by the 1970-1977 Government headed by Sirimavo Bandaranaike, the law was amended in 1978 to require monthly approval for the extension of the state of emergency by Parliament. Even though the ruling coalition in 1994-2000 had a wafer-thin majority, it managed to use emergency powers by going through this procedure month after month.

Absence of the rule of law
If ever there were circumstances meriting the declaration of a state of emergency, it is now. But the powers set out in the Public Security Ordinance are not being invoked. Curfews are being declared, people are being arrested, livelihoods are being affected, businesses are being closed and opened all without any specific authority granted by regulations promulgated under the Public Security Ordinance. And sadly, surprisingly, no one, including those who seek to represent the people at the General Election that is in contention, seems to care. No one is making a fuss about this fundamental disregard of the Rule of Law. This is why I am pessimistic about constitutionalism in Sri Lanka. The silence and implicit concurrence of citizens and opinion leaders indicate the dominance of the Kandyan feudal mindset. The King is all-powerful and can do anything. What need do we have for written law?

The opinions expressed are the author’s own views. They may not necessarily reflect the views of the Advocata Institute or anyone affiliated with the institute.

Election in the time of pandemic: Electronic voting offers no solution

Originally appeared on The Daily FT

By Prof. Rohan Samarajiva

At a time when people are being urged to maintain social distance to prevent transmission of COVID-19 and elections have been announced, it is natural to think of electronic voting from remote locations as a solution. 

Many reasons exist for modernising the way votes are cast, including the enfranchisement of our expatriate workers and the speeding up of the counting of votes. But what is most attractive at this time is the possibility of eliminating the need for people to congregate and thereby increase the risk of disease propagation. 

Electronic voting machines versus electronic voting
Most prominently, India, which conducts the world’s largest election, has used electronic voting machines (EVMs) over multiple elections. EVMs automate a single component of the voting process. Voters would still have to come to designated locations and have their eligibility to vote and their identities established in conventional ways. 

EVMs can be designed to allow persons with disabilities to exercise their right to vote. They can reduce errors in tabulation and speed up the release of results, but they do not eliminate the need for people to congregate. They are also not a solution to the problem of allowing expatriate workers to vote.

Properly validated EVMs are all that are required for this particular solution. There is no requirement even for data connectivity. The EVM can store the votes and can transmit them when connectivity is available. The concern is about whether the EVMs have been manipulated and whether there is an audit trail in case questions are raised at a later time. 

There are solutions to the identified problems. But given the tendency of our political actors to raise questions about jilmart for no reason other than unhappiness with the outcome, it is best that EVMs be approached with caution with primacy being given to trust issues. 

Voting from remote locations
Electronic voting, also described as internet voting, is a more radical solution in that it changes many elements of the voting process. Here, the need to bring voters to specific locations during specific time periods is reduced and possibly eliminated. Within a defined time period (which can be much longer than the usual few hours), persons can cast their votes from wherever they are, including from foreign countries. 

The verification of eligibility and identity will no longer be done by the examination of identity cards, the reading aloud of names, the checking of lists by observers and so on. The voter will be in a distant location not under observation by any official. There would have to be fool-proof technological methods to verify eligibility and identity. 

There is a country that conducts elections using electronic voting: Estonia. I have met Estonian citizens who have voted in national elections while they were travelling in foreign lands. Electronic voting depends on two preconditions: the existence of advanced digital identity authentication systems and the ability to connect to the election system using the Internet. Estonia, one of the most advanced nations in terms of ICTs, satisfies both criteria. 

Over the years, the number of persons voting remotely in Estonia increased to the highest proportion: 44% in 2019. That means that even with the remote voting option available, more than half the voters chose to go a polling booth to exercise the franchise. Electronic voting will not easily displace conventional voting. It is wrong to think that electronic voting is a quick fix to the problem of conducting an election amid a global pandemic.

An incremental approach
But we do need to work on technological solutions to the problems faced by Sri Lankan citizens temporarily resident in foreign countries and by those within Sri Lanka who are living or working in locations other than where they are registered to vote. Trust is of paramount value. Therefore, it would be best to start small and gradually expand. 

The most logical starting point is voting for the workers registered with the Sri Lanka Bureau of Foreign Employment. They are legally required to be registered. 

When they register, it would be possible to issue a smart card that is capable of authenticating identity in a manner like in Estonia. 

Remote internet-based voting is the only fair and comprehensive solution for citizens living in foreign countries. Putting polling booths in Sri Lankan embassies is not a feasible solution, because the distances voters would have to travel to cast their vote would be enormous in many cases. 

For example, the embassy in Saudi Arabia is in Riyadh. It would take over eight hours of driving to get there from Jeddah, for example. And Saudi law does not mandate granting of leave to vote in foreign elections. 

Once remote voting using electronic means has been tried out successfully, the solution can be extended to those in government who now use postal voting, and then to private-sector employees who now have to take time off to vote and so on. 

If the internecine squabbling among Government entities that has so far stymied efforts to introduce identification and authentication services for citizens can be brought under control, the process can be fast-tracked so that all citizens can exercise the right to vote at times and from places of their choosing. But none of this will help with holding an election in April 2020.

How should we think about the e-NIC program? Prof Mehta offers insights from India's experience

With the recent passing of regulations, the Sri Lankans government to issue new digital id cards with a central database of citizens have come under scrutiny. When Advocata hosted Indian political analyst Prof Pratap Bhanu Mehta earlier this year we asked what lessons Sri Lanka can learn from India's digital ID project Aadhar

 

Q: Sri Lanka is planning to introduce a digital Id called the e-nic project. In India, you have experience with the Aadhar project that’s digitized millions of identity data. What can we learn from this in Sri Lanka

A: This is something that is going to be a big challenge for the future. There is no question in terms of ease and convenience. Some form of digital ID is very attractive. There’s almost a kind of utopian romance people associate this notion of, one ID, one authentication and all services open up- you don’t need multiple cards, multiple agencies.  Certainly we want a way of redeeming the promise. You can’t roll back the tide of technology and in any case we’re doing that with private companies, Google, Facebook all the time, so why not harness for a public purpose?

I think the real danger is that these are tools of surveillance and and these are also tools of control and you need to see new, robust privacy legislations. You need a consent architecture for it- how is this information is going to be used? and what are you consenting to when you use this ID. You need an information architecture -- who is allowed to share what and with whom? Because with that digital ID, depending on how it is designed, can potentially reveal a lot of information about a person. It has to be embedded in deep institutional safeguards.

In India, the worry is that -- and most of us were moderate proponents of Aadhar -- we are rushing into the ease and convenience part, but frankly there is very little protection on privacy and almost no protection on surveillance. And as the experience of democracy is globally showing you have to safeguard against the possibility that authoritarian elements within our societies might use this information and data to control and surveil populations, and you need safeguards against that.

Prof Mehta who was an earlier a moderate proponent of Aadhar wrote a hard hitting Column on the project arguing the project has gone too far.  Sri Lanka’s e-NIC project is even more casual on concerns around privacy and transparency.

The video of the exchange is below