Transcript: President Waheed’s testimony to the Commission of National Inquiry

This article was first published on Dhivehi Sitee. Republished with permission.

Mohamed Waheed Hassan Manik, who took oath of office as President of the Maldives on February 7 2012, gave an interview to the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) on May 8 2012. Dhivehi Sitee has seen a copy of the English translation of the interview. Shared here is Dhivehi Sitee’s reading of the document. Some of the questions and responses have been summarised for brevity. Where I have been unable to decipher a coherent meaning from the translation, I have left the text and words as is, marked [sic].

Could you tell us details of how your meeting with the Coalition on 30 January 2012?

Leaders of the Civil Alliance first asked me to meet them on 20 January. By then they had been protesting for several days and nights. It was Adhaalath Party President Imran who called and requested the meeting. I think it was a Friday. I said I could meet him at 4:00 p.m. I informed President Nasheed via an SMS. If you wish, you can send someone from the President’s Office to participate, I told him. There was no response. Circumstances prevented them from coming, so the meeting did not happen.

A few days passed, and he called me again. I think it was the night of 30 January. They would come to meet me after the protests ended for the night.

Usually, the protests ended late. Some nights they went on until 2:00. Some people stayed up watching the protests on television till about 1:00. Me too. I usually stayed up until the end. They did not come at 12:00 as agreed. I received information they were coming to see me after a meeting elsewhere. When they came, there were about fifteen or twelve of them.

There were some leaders, leaders of protests too. This included Imran, Umar Naseer…I can’t recall their names right now…they came. As it was, before this meeting, I happened to have said something about Abdulla Ghaazee’s arrest. First I wrote a blog post saying I did not agree with the decision, and that I wasn’t happy about it.

Later, at a press conference I gave at the President’s Office, I said,

“I still believe he [Abdulla Ghaazee] should be released. But he mustn’t return to the bench until all issues surrounding him were addressed.”

From then on, everyone was ‘indignant’ [sic] with me. At the same time, I was becoming more popular among the protesters. Others, however, were not happy with me for saying that Abdulla Ghaazee should be released though not allowed on the bench.

I thought this was the reason they wanted to meet me. To ask me about what I had said. Considering how they do things, I assumed they were putting it on. It had been a long time since the protests started and, at the time, they were losing momentum. I thought it was just a PR stunt.

I believed, and still do, that Abdulla Ghaazee should have been released.

When they did turn up, I told them why I thought Abdulla Ghaazee should be released.

“He was arrested extra-legally. But, with the problems surrounding him, a judge of a court, he shouldn’t be on the bench,” these were my thoughts.

Even if requested by the judiciary, or acting on his own volition, Abdulla Ghaaze must not return to the bench until all investigations pending against him were completed. That would have been the best for peace and harmony.

“If there is a change in leadership, given how the protests are going, are you ready to take on the responsibilities of the government?” they responded.

“There is no need for a question like that. If, for any reason, the President steps aside, I should take his place. That’s my legal responsibility”, I told them.

“Say you had to carry out the responsibility. What would you do then?” one of them, I don’t know who, asked me.

“I am a member of a small party. This government came to power in a coalition,” I responded. If I were to take on the responsibility, I said, “I will work with everyone.”

“If that’s how you stand, we are with you,” they responded.

“We have a pact now,” one of them said to me as they left.

That was how the meeting went.

**********

There was a cabinet meeting the next morning. The moment I walked in, before I was able to say a word, Sheikh Hussein Rasheed jumped up.

“That was some meeting last night! I will not sit at the same table with someone who’s been in such a meeting!” Sheikh Hussein Rasheed walked out.

Other Ministers wanted to know what I had discussed at the meeting. I got a little upset.

“None of your business. I don’t have to answer to Ministers,” I said. I was really very displeased with them.

“I don’t have to tell you anything,” I said. “It’s not that I am going to keep it from you, it’s just that there’s no need for such questioning.”

The questions came mostly from people like Shifa, Zulfa, Hassan Latheef. The rest had none to ask.

I told them what I have just told you, what happened [at the meeting], what we talked about.

They began asking more questions. The President interrupted.

“The Vice President has explained what happened. That’s the end of it,” he said.

There were no more questions; it was the last time we talked about it. That was during a working meeting. Later that day, in the afternoon, there was an official meeting. No questions were asked.

*********

Did anyone in the Civil Alliance ask you not to resign under any circumstances?

Yes, that’s possible. I am not someone who has ever thought of resigning. I had been given a post…it is possible that if someone had asked me if I planned on resigning, I would have said ‘No, I have no such plan.’

Why should anyone even ask me such a question? I don’t know why I should resign at all.

**********

Why did you make a statement at around 2:30-3:00 on the morning of 7 February asking everyone to act within the law. You also warned the military and police. Why?

Yes. As usual, we were watching the protest. What we saw that night was unusual. We saw the police leaving the place [Artificial Beach] and a fight breaking out. As far as I remember, I do make such statements on occasion. So I gave a statement that night, too, asking everyone to act according to the law.

“If things carry on like this, it may get out of control,” I thought.

No one was asking me anything, no one sought my counsel. As Vice President, I was very concerned with what was happening. That’s why I gave the statement, so everyone could hear.

**********

How much truth is in the statement that President Nasheed called you on the 7th and received no response?

The last time President Nasheed spoke to me was at tea, after the cabinet meeting. I haven’t spoken to him since. If he had called me, there would be a call log, right? His number is still in my phone as HEP. If he had called me, my phone would register a missed call, right? He did not call me. Had he wanted to, there were plenty of options. We are both under the protection of the SPG [security detail]. If he had asked one of the officers to call me, or fetch me, they would have done so. I don’t believe he called me at all.

**********

Did you contact any political leaders of the Civil Alliance during the events of 7 February?

Not even slightly do I recall talking to any political leaders that night.

Is there any truth to President Nasheed’s various, and changing, statements that you were a leader in this mutiny, that deals had been made and other such stories?

I have no such information.

President Maumoon made a statement that night. Did you have any role in that?

I did not talk to President Maumoon. I first talked to Maumoon only after this change was brought.

**********

Why did you not attend the cabinet working session on the morning of 7 February?

As you know, so much was happening in Male’ that day. Huge events. On TV I saw President Nasheed go out to the Republic Square. I saw fighting. I forgot it was a working day, that a cabinet meeting was scheduled for the day. The whole day was so chaotic, I completely forgot about the cabinet meeting. I didn’t think anyone would be going to work that day so I stayed home. We hadn’t slept that night.

In the afternoon, Abdulla Shahid called to say the President was about to resign. This, too, made me sure there wouldn’t be a cabinet meeting that day. Isn’t this to be expected in a situation like this?

The way things were going, it just didn’t occur to me there would be a cabinet meeting that day. I would have been really anxious when I heard the President was to resign. I didn’t hear it from the President, he did not talk to me or call me. Abdulla Shahid did.

“It will only be official when I receive the letter. I haven’t got it yet. I’ll call you when I have it,” Shahid said.

One and a half hours later he rang me again. He had received the letter. Would I come to the People’s Majlis and take the oath?

So, actually, I didn’t know there was a cabinet meeting that day. No one from the President’s Office called to say a Cabinet meeting was on, no one called to invite me.

I forgot. But, surely someone from the President’s Office could have phoned and asked if I were coming? Nobody did. There were cabinet ministers around him when he resigned, I saw it on TV. I only learned later that his resignation had been preceded by a cabinet meeting.

**********

It has been alleged that, during a time of such crisis, you failed to perform your responsibilities as Vice President. How do you respond?

To fulfil my responsibilities, I made a statement. I believed I had to say something, so I made a statement urging obedience to the law. I said I was willing to help in anyway I can with everything. I made the statement because no one in the government was in touch with me.

President Nasheed didn’t call me. He made no attempt to discuss things with me. And, given our relationship at the time, I didn’t want to take the initiative and get involved in things he hadn’t invited me to. He hadn’t called me, so I didn’t know how things were going. But I did call [retired Major General] Moosa Jaleel sometime in the morning, when the police-military confrontation began. He did not answer.

Did President Nasheed ask you then, or at any time, to finish up and go? To ‘retreat’ [sic] or resign?

No. Never. But, back when the whole cabinet resigned, he discussed the possibility of mid-term elections with a lot of people. Mid-term elections could only be held if both of us resigned together. But, even then, he did not ask me to resign. I learned indirectly that he, or others, wanted me to resign.

The British High Commissioner, in a meeting about a year and a half ago, asked me what my plan was.

“How will I know what to do? It’s not been discussed with me. When the time comes, I will do the best for my country,” I replied.

**Dhivehi Sitee Note: What the transcript says next is below in quotation marks. I am not sure of the meaning of the paragraph, so I have left it as it is. **End of Note

Then he asked me what was Plan B, I told him that Plan B was to go according to this within this unrests, then the High Commissioner asked me if so what was Plan C. Nobody replied to that, then the Commissioner told that it is talking to each other. Plan C was not followed later.

**********

How much truth is in the statement that you sent some people to take over TVM before President Nasheed resigned?

My younger brother called me to tell me he was there. But it was after I took my oath. He worked in TVM for a long time, and would go there on other people’s request. I don’t know the details. I told him to remain there until we knew what was going on. He did. I began working on handing over TVM to MBC the next day. Within two days of me becoming President—in less than 48 hours—the board of MBC came to meet me.

“I’ll see what I can do,” I said. I handed over the responsibility of handing over TVM and Radio Maldives to MBC to the Attorney General. It took several days—around two weeks, I think, to make the required changes to the board, transferring assets and such like. As soon as the changes were completed he [brother] left TVM.

Do you believe that the situation got to a level where President Nasheed had to resign?

No, I don’t believe that. Not at all. I was surprised. President Nasheed is not someone who does things that easily. From what I have seen, he never did anything he did not want to do. I believe that things could have been resolved through talking. Why that didn’t happen, I don’t know.

How come people who led things that day have been given such high posts?

‘We all expected it to turn like this’ [sic]. When things changed, and I came to be in charge, my first priority was to maintain law and order. The Attorney General advised me, too, that I should first secure the Police, Home Affairs, and Defence.

So I gathered members of all political parties and continued to do things according to their advice. They suggested those names. They are not people I know.

But then again, I don’t know a lot of people.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Translation: PPM MP Abdulla Yameen’s testimony to CoNI

This article was first published on Dhivehisitee. Republished with permission.

Progressive Party of Maldives (PPM) Parliamentary Group Leader, 2013 Presidential candidate and half brother of former President Gayoom, Abdulla Yameen, testified to the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) on 30 April 2012 regarding the end of the first democratically elected government of the Maldives. This is a translation of parts of the testimony dealing specifically with the events leading to and on 7 February 2012, as told by Yameen.

PPM began leading demonstrations or protests when Abdulla Ghaazee [Abdulla Mohamed of Criminal the Court] was arrested. Our primary concern rose from seeing then president Nasheed increasing his political power in the Majlis. That’s why PPM decided to protest. These sentiments are shared by other political leaders working with us. We all believed President Nasheed was trying to consolidate all powers in his own hands. Article 115 of the Constitution gives the President certain authorities. President Nasheed was exercising more power than we found acceptable—more than is acceptable in a democracy—to create positions and to amend laws that restricted his powers. He was doing all this in the Majlis to usurp all powers into his own hands.

From then onwards, trust was an issue amongst us. It was getting very serious. All us political people, especially PPM, became convinced that these efforts were an attempt to completely sideline the Constitution and just take all three branches of power into his hands. We saw the arrest of Abdulla Ghaazee as a manifestation of this. For Nasheed, some parts of the criminal justice system were a problem. This, therefore, was an attempt to meddle in it. We, the PPM, decided then that we would not let it happen. Arresting a judge, the chief judge of the criminal court, that’s one thing. There was, at the same time, also the problem of interfering with the judiciary.

In all this, my position as a member of parliament worked to our benefit: we got the opportunity to run a parallel assessment of the situation, an oversight type of exercise, from within the parliament. We summoned Abdulla Ghaazee to the National Security Committee. I don’t know the date, but it was some months before he was arrested. It was in relation to a complaint filed by MDP. I was the Chair.

The issue was why Abdulla Ghaazee’s court was releasing major criminals. Abdulla Ghaazee came with tons of documents showing how cases had been filed, reasons for release—he brought some very confident print-outs. Here you can really register their dissatisfaction, unhappiness, with Abdulla Ghaazee. We had the benefit of being in possession of this knowledge.

We also summoned Moosa Jaleel to the Committee. Sorry, Moosa Jaleel was summoned to the 241 Committee, and so was Police Commissioner Faseeh. We wanted to find out the details of Abdulla Ghaazee’s arrest.

Because we were privy to this sort of information, we did not in any way want to tolerate the level of interference Nasheed was planning to run in the judiciary. We absolutely did not want to accept that. So, to free the judiciary—and because this is symbolised by Abdulla Ghaazee’s arrest—we, the PPM, took the initiative and began these protests. Other opposition parties, and the Madhanee Itthihad too, participated. We did this work for, if I recall correctly, 21 days.

In the midst of this, I went to Singapore for about a week, partly because a family medical trip had been planned. I came back on the night of the sixth.

These protests and all, they were not intended for bringing down the government. Nor were they held in anticipation of it. We wanted to continue, relentlessly continue, the protests until Abdulla Ghaazee was free. That’s why we began the protests and we were not going to stop until it happened.

So, I came back on the night of Sixth [February] around 11:00. I knew there were two protests on two sides but, that night, I did not feel like participating in either. I just wanted to retire for the night, so I went home and slept.

Around daybreak, the house phone rang persistently. A servant answered, and brought the phone upstairs. Our party Deputy Leader Abdulraheem wanted to speak to me urgently.

When I returned the call, he updated me on the situation.

“Police, from among the security forces, were protesting at the Republic Square.” Until then, I had no idea.

“Various political leaders are making statements. A senior figure from PPM should do the same. Why don’t you go on VTV to make a statement advising, or encouraging, police and military to remain within legal boundaries? Or, if you prefer, a crew is ready to be dispatched to your house.”

I decided to go to VTV. I got ready for the statement. The anchor introduced me, ‘I am in the studio with the Mulaku Atoll Member…’

At that moment, the CEO of VTV Khaleel, no Ameen, came in.

“Stop. Don’t show Yameen yet. We have already been attacked once this evening. From what we know, an MDP group has left the Republic Square and come into the inner city. If Yameen appears on VTV, we’ll be attacked again. I’d really appreciate if you didn’t do this,” Ameen said.

So I didn’t get a chance to speak. I even remained in their waiting room for a while, to give an interview when things subsided. After about fifteen minutes, they decided it was unwise for me to give an interview right then, in case of further damage to their studio.

I spent altogether about half an hour at VTV, went home, and watched television. I had overheard in VTV that a police/military confrontation was imminent. I watched until it was over in the morning, then went to bed hoping for a couple hours’ rest. But I couldn’t sleep for long. By some time past nine, I think, I was up.

I had two missed calls from Ibu, Ibrahim Mohamed Salih, Hinnavaru MP and MDP Parliament Group Leader. That was between nine and ten. I can’t tell you the exact time.

“Yameen, President Nasheed has decided to resign,” Ibrahim Mohamed Solih said to me on the phone.

“What you can do is ensure his personal protection, personal security. Guarantee it,” he continued.

“I have heard what you are saying. But President Nasheed is… I would like to hear it from President Nasheed himself… otherwise…”

“I will arrange it. President Nasheed will call you shortly,” he said.

But that call did not come that soon.

Around 10:00am, from what I recall, I received an SMS from Indian High Commissioner, ambassador Mulay. “It’ s urgent, a time of national crisis”, he said.

Mulay requested a meeting. A little background on this – I meet Mulay on his request from time to time to discuss political issues. He had requested a meeting before I left for Singapore, too.

“Perhaps when I return,” I told him. I was taking a daytime flight.

So, when he requested the meeting on this day, I agreed. When I went to see the him it was between 11:00 and 12:00. Again, I cannot tell you the exact time. The High Commissioner was alone in his office.

“Yameen, can you negotiate a three-day period for Nasheed in which to sort all this out?” Mulay said.

“What do you mean?” I asked.

“I believe that if you personally face the security forces and the public, and give them your word, they will accept it. So why don’t you speak to them and tell them that Nasheed sent you to hear and note to their grievances and to assure them that if they gave him three days, all their grievances would fully and exhaustively addressed.” Mulay laid out his idea.

“That a very unreasonable request,” I said to the High Commissioner. “I don’t represent President Nasheed. And, I don’t agree with your belief that the security forces will listen to what I have to say. Nor can I see in what capacity I would be going there. And, I doubt if President Nasheed has suggested this. Ibrahim Mohamed Solih rang me this morning and indicated President Nasheed intended to resign. But President Nasheed haven’t confirmed yet.”

“MDP leader Didi is here. Would you mind negotiating with Didi?” the Indian High Commissioner asked me at this point.

“Negotiate what?” I asked him. “I find it a difficult, but since Didi is already here, I might as well meet him. No problem.”

“Shall I invite Thasmeen? Shall I also get Gasim here?” Mulay asked. He also answered himself.

“I think if PPM and MDP are represented, we can continue this discussion even if Thasmeen and Gasim aren’t here.”

So I agreed.

As he entered, Didi said in Dhivehi, “I have credentials to negotiate on behalf of President Nasheed.”

“Negotiate what, Didi?” I asked. “And, how do I know that you have your credentials? Do you have a letter?”

“No, I don’t have a letter,” Didi replied.

“Why don’t we speak in English, Mulay is here too,” I said to Didi. Mulay was sitting right across from me.

“I have told Didi to establish his credentials,” I updated Mulay on my discussion with Didi. “I know Didi is the party leader, but I don’t know he is an envoy of President Nasheed. He has to establish his credentials.”

Mulay agreed.

Didi called President Nasheed from his hand phone. From what I have learned since, listening to an interview Didi gave later, Nasheed did not want to talk with Didi much at that point. He asked to talk with me instead.

Didi handed the phone over to me.

President Nasheed and I had a conversation. I found him to be very cool, collected, even jolly. There did not seem to be any problem at all.

“Yameen, I have decided to step down. I have decided to resign. I am not the kind of person who wants to remain in power against the pulse of the people. I don’t want to rule by force,” he said.

“But,” he continued, “I am going to go to the President’s Office shortly—I have already invited the press—and I will resign in front of them. So I am going to the press now. If you are thinking of addressing the rally, I would like it if you did so after my announcement to the press.”

He himself said he had invited the press.

“I am going to the President’s Office to resign in front of the press,’ that’s what he said.

He even joked a bit, and said to me in English, “Yameen, you are still my friend.”

Still in English, he said,“Please ensure my personal security.”

I assured him that, but I also adde it was not advisable given the atmosphere on the island.

“My idea is to resign and head to my family home or to my wife’s residence,” he said.

“It may not be safe,” I replied. “Even if the security forces give you protection, the island is in a uproar. Why don’t you go to Arah [Presidential retreat island] or somewhere for two or three days with whomever you want? Or by yourself, if you like? That’s an option too.”

“I will talk to the security forces and with my party about your personal security and all of those things”, I added.

“If you are still my friend,” I asked him, “why then did you arrest me extra-legally two or three times for no reason?”

“I was arrested twenty-seven times,” he responded.

“How come? What? It was my brother that arrested,” I said.

“Yameen, these things happen in politics,” he said. So, I also saw Anni’s serious side.

In my assessment of the conversation there was absolutely nothing to indicate that he was that under stress. He laughed and joked. As I said, I found him a very collected person.

“I will see to the personal security issue and try to make sure no harm comes to you,” I assured him.

As soon as Didi came in, he had told me about a phone call from Ibu.

“I told him I am in a discussion with Yameen and Ambassador Mulay, so he hung up,” Didi told me. But I later heard Didi saying in an interview that Ibu told him on the phone about Anni’s decision to resign.

This [resignation] is not something I came to learn the next day. I was told this earlier the same morning. He did not confirm it to me later as I was told he would. Then the discussion with Mulay occurred.

“He has offered to resign,” I told both Ambassador Mulay and Didi at the end of the phone call with President Nasheed.

“He is going to meet the press in a few moments to announce it. So what is there to negotiate?” I said.

“In that case, shall I invite President Waheed to arrange for the oath of office and such?” Mulay responded.

“Sir,” I said, “Isn’t it too early for that? Anyway, that’s Waheed’s decision.”

That’s how the meeting ended.

My assessment of it is that President Nasheed and Mulay had a discussion about the grievances that they [security forces] might have, and wanted me to take down those grievances to get a three day respite for President Nasaheed. They thought if I were to give my word to the security forces and the public, they would listen to me. That’s how the day’s discussions went. Unfortunately, before room could be made for negotiations, President Nasheed voluntarily tendered his resignation.

**********

Did I have any information about President Nasheed making a concentrated effort towards judicial reform?

Yes, but I only learnt of that after the government had ended. I didn’t know about it before because I had been away for the most critical seven or so days of this. I was in Singapore for personal health reasons. I did not have an opportunity for spontaneous exchange of information. So, actually, I learned about President Nasheed’s intention to establish a Judicial Reform Commission—or in whatever name it maybe—only after the government changed. It was on the 8th that I came to know he had entertained such ideas. The hope was that, if the 7th had not become such a fearful day, it would have been commissioned as such. But I learned of this afterwards. On the eighth.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Summary: Former President’s testimony on February 7 transfer of power

This article first appeared on Dhivehisitee. Republished with permission.

On 4 July, 2012, Mohamed Nasheed, President of the Maldives until  February 7 that year, testified at the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) on how his government came to an end. Present were co-chairs of the Commission Justice Selvam and Ismail Shafeeu, members Dr Ibrahim Yasir, Dr Fawaz Shareef and Ahmed Saeed. Observing for the international community were Sir Bruce Robertson and Professor John Packer.

In essence, my statement is very small… I was forced to resign. I resigned under duress. I was threatened. If I did not resign within a stipulated period it would endanger mine and my family’s life. I understood they were going to harm a number of other citizens, party members. They were going to literally sack the town. I felt that I had no other option, other than to resign.

Despite CoNI being a national inquiry looking into the highly suspicious end of a government elected by the people, all testimonies collected have been kept from the public. Having come into possession of a copy of the transcript of Nasheed’s spoken testimony to CoNI on 4 July, I have summarised its contents and shared it with you here. What is contained here is not Nasheed’s entire testimony that day, but only the parts concerning the last few hours of his presidency. Care has been taken, however, to ensure no information has been taken taken out of context, added, or deleted from the text and to remain faithful to Nasheed’s words as contained in the transcript.

President Mohamed Nasheed arrived at Bandaara Koshi at 5:00 am on 7 February 2012. Operation Liberty Shield was supposedly underway, but the place was almost deserted. About 300 personnel in total, most of them in plainclothes, milled about lethargically. There were several generals present—Chief of Defence Moosa Jaleel, General Shiyam, General Nilam, General Ibrahim Didi. The military HQ was on red alert, but most of the generals looked as if they were on holiday.

From the late evening of 6 February, Nasheed had been busy trying to control the situation from Mulee Aage, his residence. Judging from police behaviour during protests on the preceding days, the President was convinced the police must be removed from the scene. He knew plans were afoot to have his government illegally overthrown in a coup. A week earlier, he received a seven page letter from military intelligence. It outlined in detail a plot to illegally overthrow the government.

Attempting to control the situation on the evening of February 6, he had two major concerns: the police might attack MDP supporters, and they might attack the military. On hindsight, the president would come to see that he could also have arranged for MDP supporters to disperse. Other actions would have led to other consequences. But, at that moment in time, he trusted his supporters to maintain order more than he did the police. He was assured by the MDP MP leading the protests there would be no disruptions.

He ordered the police to be removed and for the military to takeover.

Seven hours later, the military was yet to take any action.

The President felt he must go to the scene. He needed to see for himself, assess what was happening. That is the kind of person he was.

Before he left, he checked with the military personnel inside the headquarters.

“We have the capacity to bring out a 1000 troops,” they assured, beckoning him.

Nasheed walked to the HQ. What he found were the generals who looked as if they were on vacation, and no plan of attack. He had suspected as much. As a history enthusiast, he had studied in detail every coup that took place on the islands in the past 200 years.

He could read the signs, he knew when a coup was brewing.

**********

Inside, Nasheed met with his Home Minister Afeef, Defence Minister Tholhath, and Commissioner of Police Ahmed Faseeh.

“What should I do?” he asked them each individually.

Each replied the police must be restrained, arrested.

Twice, the military advanced only to retreat shortly afterwards. They treated the police with kid-gloves, there was no command. As the situation deteriorated, Nasheed rang the Chief Justice and the Speaker of Parliament. He felt that all organs of the state should be present at such a crisis. Both men agreed to come.

Nasheed also rang various MDP MPs, requesting their help at the scene. And, he made several attempts to contact the Vice President.

“But, of course,” those attempts were futile.

“The Vice President should be behind the President at a time like this,” Nasheed thought. “He should have come on his accord to be here.”

Waheed did not come. Nor did he answer the phone. Perhaps he was asleep? He was still up at 2:00 a.m. in the morning, Nasheed knew. The Vice President had appeared on television then, with a statement on the events.

Incidentally, Nasheed’s wife Laila and Waheed’s wife Ilham shared the same make-up artist. Whatever the whereabouts of Waheed, through his wife’s beautician, Nasheed would later learn that by 7:00 am of 7 February, Ilham was groomed for a special occasion.

In the early hours of 31 January, Waheed had met with the opposition in his home. Nasheed sought him out in the intervening period, but Waheed avoided him. The Vice President provided the President with neither advice nor assistance. When quizzed by Ministers in their government, Waheed refused to share any information about his meeting with the opposition.

Speaker Shahid and Chief Justice Faiz never turned up.

Some MPs did respond to Nasheed’s call for help. From his vantage point inside the military headquarters, Nasheed saw how each were beaten up. The attacks on individuals soon became a barrage, spreading across the entire area. It was to continue for the next two hours.

“In the net”

Inside the headquarters, the President’s phone had very little reception. It was not because the signal was jammed, although it should have been. Jamming the signal and providing him with another phone would have been a good strategy, Nasheed thought. He saw General Shiyam on the phone, sending a constant stream of text messages and receiving many phone calls. “Who but the President should Shiyam be in touch with at that moment in time?” Nasheed wondered.

Despite the bad reception, from time to time, President Nasheed received updates from members of his government and MDP. He heard about MNBC One being under attack. He heard police and military had taken over the airport, had control of the immigration counters.

He also heard Gayoom was up all night, co-ordinating the anti-government efforts from Malaysia. According to reports Nasheed received, on receiving news that he was at the military headquarters Gayoom said, “He is in the net.”

For all intents and purposes, Nasheed was now a captive, falsely imprisoned inside the military headquarters. His security detail, the Special Protection Group [SPG], were guards, not protectors. Their leadership was changed the day before, a man called Rauf replaced the former Chief. Rauf was in charge of protecting the President and his family, but, all day he languished outside the gates. No assurances of safety were forthcoming from him.

**********

Through the course of the next two hours, Nasheed went up and came down several times. He saw MP Mariya Didi being attacked. It was astounding. He saw the Deputy Minister being attacked. He saw other MPs assaulted. He saw the police headquarters being attacked.

[Between 7:00 and 8:00 in the morning] Nasheed went outside to speak to the mutinying police. His Police Commissioner no longer believed they were police, and refused to negotiate with them. Nasheed’s attempt was in vain. He could not agree to their demands for a pardon. It was not that he didn’t have the power or the authority.

“But”, he thought, “who am I to pardon before an investigation?”

Still, he promised them he would do his best for them. His promise went unheeded by the mutineers.

Inside the military HQ, he tried to talk to the soldiers. He had tried to do the same earlier, when he took a walk inside the premises shortly after his arrival. Some of the soldiers were playing chess, he noticed. Before he could conclude his walk, General Shiyam had intercepted him.

“They don’t want you to be walking around here,” the General said. He did not give a reason. It was possible soldiers of lower ranks had been told not to obey the President’s orders.

This time he met with about fifty soldiers from the lower ranks.

“You are taking the country to the dogs. You must do something,” he wanted to tell them.

“My wife is being attacked by MDP supporters,” one of them replied.

“A policeman has been murdered,” said another.

“That is not true. We don’t do that. We are a party in government and we govern,” the President responded.

“Will you come out with me to restrain a rebellious force?” he asked.

“If even 10-20 people agreed, I will lead them out,” the President thought.

Only one of them was willing. The rest said the President should resign.

*********

Nasheed saw police re-enforcements arriving in Male’ on speedboats. The boats belonged to Gasim Ibrahim’s Villa company.

“Strange,” he thought. Never in his position as Commander in Chief had he ordered the security forces to use Gasim’s vessels. All of them were in uniform.

“We will lynch you. We will hang you,” Nasheed heard them. They had ropes.

The violence escalated to a level Nasheed had never imagined he would see in the Maldives.

“I am going to die right now if I don’t resign”, he thought. Naseem [former foreign minister Mohamed Naseem] arrived.

“Mohamed Amin was standing right here when he was lynched,” Nasheed remarked. Amin was the first president of the Maldives. His bloody end in the hands of an angry mob is described in the recently published Orchid, reminding the public afresh of violence past.

Nasheed contemplated his options. He could go out and face the crowd, leave the rest to God.

“Please don’t do that,” Naseem pleaded with Nasheed. The Minister was crying. Both of them had grown up listening to the stories of Amin’s lynching. MP Riyaz joined Naseem’s plea.

“You are being silly. You don’t need to die today. There will be a tomorrow.”

**********

“Back off! We are opening the gate!” the President heard.

Nazim, Riyaz and Fayaz walked into the HQ when the gates, earlier shut under a direct order from the Presdent, were opened. There was no reason for them to be in the building, no capacity in which they could legally enter the premises.

The President knew when Nazim had arrived, he had heard the uproar with which the man’s presence had been greeted. Through the walls of the second floor room in which he was in, the President also heard Nazim address the crowds through a megaphone. He never met Nazim or the other two men inside the military HQ. Nor did he know which part of the building they were in. Once they arrived, Nasheed could not move without being restrained by someone.

“You cannot go there,” General Shiyam said when he tried to go upstairs, to the second wing. The General, whose lack of uniform at a time when the military was on red alert appeared to Nasheed as a sign of desertion, was categorical in his order. He offered no explanation.

“Someone else…someone from the opposition…Nazim? Umar Naseer? Someone was there”, the President would later speculate. “Someone was controlling operations from the other wing of the building.”

Twice the SPG, under new chief Rauf’s command, physically restrained the president. When Nasheed heard about MDP Haruge being ransacked he felt it was his duty to go. Faisal, now a major, held him back. Their excuse was that it was not safe for the president.

They checked his belongings. He had to ask their permission to use the toilet.

“Am I under arrest?” he asked.

Nasheed realised how foolish the question sounded. “I cannot be under arrest”, he thought. “But, of course, I am,” he countered himself.

Jailed several times during Gayoom’s regime for dissent, once detained in solitary confinement for 18 months, the President was familiar with arrest procedures. If he were to use the toilet without permission, they would break in. He had experienced it first hand twice before. His current guards had ‘Forensics’ written all over them.

Among them were faces he could never forget—they belonged to individuals who had interrogated and tortured him before. Soon after Nasheed’s first child was born and while he was expecting his second, one of them had ransacked his home. The man had meticulously gone through every single toy belonging to his young daughter.

“He wants to re-enact that,” Nasheed thought.

He knew these people well. He knew Abdulla Riyaz, was aware of the type of person he is. These people were not searching for anything in specific. The President knew it was an attempt to undress and demoralise him.

“They are trying to make you capitulate,” Nasheed thought. He knew torture and punishment were their preferred tactics.

“People outside are shouting and calling for you to be lynched”, they told him.

“You are going to lynch me from the inside,” he retorted.

**********

The President made the decision to resign at the precise moment he heard the gates ofBan’deyri Koshi being opened. He could hear the din of the baying crowd right outside.

“Mr President, if you don’t resign, they will kill you. They will sack [sic] Male’”, General Ibrahim Didi had told him earlier. The General sincerely believed it was his duty to defend the President with his life. Now, he was failing miserably. Twice the military had advanced and retreated. General Didi, an honourable man, offered to resign. Nasheed observed with concern that it was not beyond the General to contemplate suicide.

“I have only a few minutes to live”, the President now thought. The situation was dire, the country was under threat. Both his life and that of his wife, Laila, were in mortal danger. Laila had no protection in Mulee Aage, she had been forced to leave with their children. He was also convinced MPs Mariya, [Ahmed Easa] and Ibu [Ibrahim Mohamed Solih] had been killed.

But, Nasheed knew it was not safe for him to resign inside the military headquarters. Once the attack on the HQ began, four large bricks were thrown into the second floor room he was in. His precise location was no secret to the attackers outside. The bricks had left large holes in the glass. Shooting into the room through those holes would be easy.

Nasheed was aware there were guns all around him. The generals had guns, he was convinced. Even if the armoury was locked, they had the keys. As Nasheed would later come to understand, guns were moved that day from Coast Guard ships, from other barracks. There are pictures showing some of the movements. He heard KK [Kalhuthukkalaa Koshi] troops were going to join the police in their mutiny. He saw the troops. He heard that when the renegade police and military took over MNBC One earlier, they used guns and were in possession of firearms.

The President knew he must leave the building. He agreed to resign.

“But”, he said, “it would be better if I do not do it from here. I must have fresh clothes, a shave.” He was looking for an escape.

It did not work. His captors had the clothes and toiletries delivered to the HQ.

His resignation speech was to be made at a press conference in the President’s Office shortly.

Resignation: “The biggest rogue letter was written by me.”

Nasheed was taken the short distance to the President’s Office in a car. A large mob, composed not of the public but of police and military personnel, surrounded the car. They were screaming. They were banging on the President’s car. There was no security, no decorum.

Nazim, Riyaz and Fayaz were already at the President’s Office.

“These people should not be here,” he thought.

The President’s staff made several vain attempts to stop the three men. Defying everyone’s wishes and all protocol, they got into the dedicated President-only lift with Nasheed. Within the enclosed space, in the presence of Riyaz and Fayaz, Nazim dictated the words that should be in his resignation letter.

In his office, the President did not put the words on paper. It did not occur to him that he should, for he had never had any intention of resigning. For him, the agreement to resign was a ruse, a way of escaping death and leaving the military headquarters.

“The Speaker wants the letter,” Nazim told him. The President hesitated. He went to the window and looked outside. The situation appeared even worse than before. He looked at Nazim. There was a tell-tale bulge in his trousers.

“He has a gun,” Nasheed was convinced. He would later make out its outlines in a picture of Nazim with his back to the camera, taken after the resignation press conference.

“You cannot back out now. You have to go all the way,” Nazim said. The President knew clearly that his life was under threat, that he would not be allowed to live.

He began writing the letter. Twice he broke down. But he knew that if he did not remain composed, if he did not maintain decorum, there would be chaos. He took care composing the letter, including only the bare minimum of what Nazim had dictated. He would only write enough to keep Nazim happy. It was all an act. Theatre. A lie to save his life.

“The biggest rogue letter was written by me,” Nasheed would say later. He was baffled when Speaker Shahid accepted the letter, it followed none of the required official documentation processes. Nasheed wrote the letter himself. There were no reference numbers, its only nod to officialdom was the emblem on the presidential notepad he used.

Shahid is the type of person who takes pride in receiving letters. Normally, he would have telephoned Nasheed on receipt of the letter. On this day, he was silent. There was no contact. Official documentation rules require proof receipt. No such record exists for President Nasheed’s resignation letter.

Before the press conference, Nazim dictated to him what he should say in his resignation speech.

“Tell the people to keep calm and remain at home. Tell them no one should come out on the streets. Ask Moosa and Mariya to remain silent. Tell other party members not to say anything. Don’t say anything about me. You must say nothing about duress. Say that you are doing it of your own accord. Of your own free will,” Nazim dictated to Nasheed.

As with the letter, Nasheed did not say what Nazim wanted. Instead, he took Nazim’s ideas and polished them up and said the bare minimum needed to save his life and country. He did not state that he was resigning of his own free will. He did not include any instructions for Moosa Manik, Mariya Didi or anyone else to stay at home.

For Nasheed resigning was not the best option. It was the only option.

Dr Azra Naseem has a PhD in International Relations

All comment pieces are the sole view of the author and do not reflect the editorial policy of Minivan News. If you would like to write an opinion piece, please send proposals to [email protected]

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Translation: Former Police Commissioner’s statement to CoNI

This translation first appeared on Dhivehisitee. Republished with permission

This is a translation of an extract from the former Police Commissioner Ahmed Faseeh’s testimony to the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) on the events of 7 February 2012. Despite being a national inquiry, none of the evidence has been shared with the public. Faseeh’s testimony was leaked on the Internet recently.

It was the evening of 6 February 2012. Like all other nights, there would be protests. Aware of this, we pushed protesters back from near MTCC to the market area. Displeased, they moved to the Artificial Beach. The protest kicked off around 9:00.

On one side was the so-called Coalition – PPM, Qaumee Party, Jumhooree Party, these parties. There were about 200-300 of them. On the other side was MDP—actually, it was pro-MDP supporters—with 200 or so people.

I was in and out of the Ops Room. The phone rang.

“Withdraw the police, Faseeh.” It was our Minister.

“Why?” I asked.

“Faseeh, withdraw the police. Every night, things end the same way now. They are the ones making things worse.”

A superior or not, I respond only when I am clear on what I am being asked to do, and when I know whether it can be done or not. I quickly assessed the situation. There were violent people on one side, some of them carried stones. People on both sides had planks of wood. Our troops were in the middle. We were concentrating on keeping them apart.

Around 9:30-10:00 [pm] the phone rang. It was the President.

“Faseeh, we cannot trust the police now. Every night this is allowed to drag on until about 3:00. Withdraw them.”

I dispatched Farhad Fikry, head of directorate, to take stock.

“The situation is very bad. If we withdraw, things will get worse,” Fikry reported back five minutes later.

It was around this time that I realised the President did not trust us either.

The only option was for the military to take over. Back when the protests began we made a collective request for military assistance through the Home Ministry. The law allows us to do that.

I rang Defence Minister Tholhath Ibrahim.

“Sir, here is what is happening”, I updated him. “I will not withdraw until you come.”

“No problem,” Tholhath said, “I’ll get a team ready.”

I think they took about twenty-five minutes. They are slow, not very practised on the streets. I doubted their ability to tackle the situation.

Our boys came to the Republic Square once the military took over. I think there were about three platoons. There are 30 in each platoon; and there were about 90 people.

Around 10:30, I was in my office with Assistant Commissioner Sadiq, and an older colleague, discussing the situation.

“Hear that?” Sadiq interrupted.

We went to the balcony. They were running up and down, screaming filth. I rushed downstairs from my fourth floor office. Deputy Commissioner Atheef and were running down too.

‘Ganja Bo!’ [Pothead!], the boys shouted. A lot else too.

I knew then these boys were no longer following orders.

They were leaving in lorries. Atheef managed to grab the key off one of the vehicles. Two platoons left, one couldn’t. Some may have left on other vehicles, I am not sure. I did not see that. This was Marine Drive, in front of Boduthakurufaanu Magu police [building]. I used the western exit.

I was in shock. And why wouldn’t I be? This was definitely not acceptable police behaviour.

My phone rang.

“They are going past our house towards MDP Haruge”, a close friend reported. He lives on Ameenee Magu, near Dharubaaruge.

“Police are headed West, shouting filth. We’ll destroy it, they are saying. This is about MDP Haruge. I think they are going to the Haruge. Check what’s going on!”

Soon I received information they went to the area under military control, beat up MDP people there. As if that wasn’t enough, the next platoon headed to MDP Haruge, beat more people up, vandalised the place. They did a whole lot of other things.

I felt dejected, drained, seeing such indiscipline from the police.

After doing whatever it was they did, they returned to the Republic Square. I think there were about 90 on the helipad. Some more police stood on the sides. A few Blues on standby, too. Roughly, there were about 100, 150 boys milling about.

I rang my Deputy, Muneer.

“Talk to them. Ask them about what they just did. Ask them what. Why.” I instructed him.

It was around 10:30, from what I recall. Muneer attempted to talk to a deputy commissioner.

“La ilaha ilallah!” he reported back. “Those people are beyond talking. They are barbaric; they are not following orders.”

I saw Deputy Commissioner Atheef. I was standing outside the police [building], behind the flag, on the pavement. I intended to talk to them but I saw their behaviour and changed my mind. I saw Atheef going into the crowd. No sooner did he go in, he came back out. The place was in complete chaos, I knew then. There was no discipline, no order.

Around 11:00, I called Tholhath and went to the military headquarters. The current Chief of Defence Force General Shiyam, former Chief of Defence Force Moosa Ali Jaleel, Colonel Ziyad, Tolhath, and former Brigadier General Ibrahim Didi were there.

“The police have mutinied,” I said to Tholhath. “They are not following my orders. I don’t have a force to control them. I cannot do anything until you have them isolated. I have only the Blues, who can’t control them. I am helpless.

It’s impossible to talk to them. If approached, they shout filth. That’s the level they have sunk to. They broke into MDP Haruge, vandalised it. They are acting on their own. They are not ‘right’ any more.”

“Don’t worry, Faseeh. I will do that now,” Tholhath reassured me.

Order after order was given. Jaleel also. Orders were recorded at 1:30, 2:30, 3:30, 4:30. Nothing happened.

Outside, a rumour had taken hold: the military were coming out to beat the police.

“The military are about to come out, we must confront them,” this is what was being said. Of course, it affected the Blues and all other police. The Blues moved closer, began mingling with them. Now they numbered about 300 altogether.

Around 3:30 [a.m.] Ibrahim Didi came in.

“We don’t have the capacity to control them without causing great casualties. The police will be very strong if they come with batons and gas,” he said to Tolhath.

The same thing happened many times. It dragged on.

Meanwhile, outside, they kept calling for the President to resign. They jumped up and down. They screamed. “Ganja Boa Resign!”, reverberated across the air.

Until then, I thought this was perhaps about the arrest of Abdulla Ghaazee, or about being taken into military custody. Or maybe they were exhausted and angry, forced to control protests every night.

But, listening to the “Ganja Boa Resign!” screams, I realised. It was political.

Once again, I felt dejected.

Suddenly, the President arrived. It was 4:30, 5:00.

“Do it before sunrise, or it can’t be done. This is a small thing, is it not? Even I can do it. Shall I do it?” The President was speaking to Jaleel.

“No, no,” was the reply. The military came out then.

There were three platoons, from what I can remember. They formed a line outside the entrance of the police building. Those police were on the helipad. They were shouting loudly. The place was about to erupt. A confrontation between the military and the police seemed imminent. Any announcement we made, they responded with loud screams. It was, really, specifically, impossible to continue.

The military advanced. It retreated. Advanced, retreated. Those gentlemen just couldn’t do anything. They went out, they came back in. The military failed.

Dawn had broken, the first prayer call had been sounded. I remember it as being around 5:45. Between 5:45-6:00. Or maybe it was past 6:00. Between 5:45 and 6:15 anyway. The President called me to a meeting.

Home Minister, Defence Minister, Chief of Defence Force Jaleel, current Chief Shiyam, General Didi, General Nilam were also present.

“What’s your view?” the President asked me.

“Same as before. I don’t have any power right now. The only way is through the military. And that still has not been done,” I replied.

“Why don’t you talk to them?”

“Yes, I can do that,” I said, and left immediately.

I did my morning prayer. I had been unable to till then.

“I want to meet with them,” I told my secretary. “Assess the situation.”

“There are members of public, there are others. They don’t seem right, Sir.”

I thought it better to ask four or five senior boys among them to come and meet with me instead.

Earlier the President had given me a message to relay to the boys.

“We pardon you for all the things that we can pardon you for. Of course, if you have hit somebody, it cannot be done.”

It was a good message he came with, is it not?

“There are no seniors. We are all equal, and we speak with one voice,” was their response to my request for a meeting.

“But there would be people senior in rank!” They ignored me.

I asked Head of Intelligence to find out what the mood was like among them. To negotiate.

“They would like to come and talk,” he reported back.

I waited for a long time, then went up for breakfast. It was past 7:00. The din from outside suddenly grew incredibly loud. I went up on the terrace to look. Enmass, police on the helipad were running towards Najah Art Palace. Towards the Chandhani Magu and Orchid Magu intersection. They ran hard, they were screaming.

A group of MDP people had arrived when police were chanting their pledge. The police were running to beat them up.

I don’t know…I did not bother with breakfast, I went straight to my room. Afterwards, I slipped quietly out to my office, that is, the Commissioner’s administrative office.

Outside the police gates! Outside the police gates there was chaos. The police—screaming, throwing stones…more.

“They have started damaging the police [building] now,” some female office staff reported.

I think I called Tholhath. I vaguely remember doing that. But I am not sure. I think I said to him, “They are now attacking police. Find a way to stop them.”

Some of the military, about 60 or 90, came out. In full riot gear. But they could not control the police.

The military and the police confronted each other. They damaged a military truck, threw things at the main gate of the military headquarters. If one threw a canister, the other did the same. If one side threw a stone, the other threw three back. Back and forth they went. Time passed. Some military personnel joined them.

“Superintendent Ibrahim Manik is being brought out, people kicking and beating him!” a female officer suddenly cried. It was true. They were kicking him like he was a football. I saw, but I could not look for long.

“Sir, you shouldn’t come out to investigate. They might see you and come for you. They may beat you too,” someone said.

“Jinah is also being taken out,” I heard next.

I saw people being beaten. I heard destruction, the sound of glass shattering, then falling.

“They are looking for you too. A Shahil and a Khithram were here asking for you,” my secretary said. Those two had been in the SO.

“We pretended you were not here,” she said.

There were about six boys standing guard at the door leading to my section. I was in there with the door to the Commissioner’s administrative office closed. There were two bodyguards with me, and my administrative staff. Some boys who wish me well were outside. I was protected.

They brought back news of places damaged.

“The mess room has been destroyed,” they told me.

“Who did it?”

“They did it. The police.”

When police started destroying police property, when they started beating people up, it really upset me. They were beyond control, beyond reason.

Around 10:30-11:00, Colonel Nazim, F.A [Mohamed Fayaz] and Abdulla Riyaz [current CP] arrived. If you are in the police, you know who these three gentlemen are. Two of them are ex-police. The third, Nazim, is ex-military.

“We are going into the military HQ to talk,” they announced.

“What are these people doing here? What is going on?” I wondered.

It was Nazim on the megaphone. I know his voice, he is a classmate of mine. Three years.

“We have met with the military leaders. I have ordered the president to resign. He will be resigning in the next one and a half to two hours. I have also ordered the Police Commissioner and his two Deputies to write their resignation letters without condition,” Nazim was saying.

All control was lost. I must save my life, I thought. I told my secretary to write a letter seeking an honorary retirement. I put the letter on my desk and sat there. I was afraid, I was a captive in the room. Time passed.

I think it was around 13:30 when I heard of the President’s resignation.

Around 2:00, I heard Superintendent Fairoosh was looking for me. They are based on the floor above me.

I had heard of outsiders entering the building — Hassan Saeed, Gasim Ibrahim, Sheikh Imran, these people. There had been a takeover, I knew.

I went up to meet Fairoosh.

“Sir, you have to meet all the officers,” he said. There were several in the room. There was destruction in the room, too. And in the Minister’s office. I walked across the shattered glass on the floor and sat down at the end of the table.

“This is not the worst day. It sets a dangerous precedent. It is sad,” I started.

“Are you not resigning?” Fairoosh asked.

“I have resigned. I have written the letter. But I do not know who to give it to,” I said.

Fairoosh was the automatic leader. Remember I said I ran downstairs, suddenly, at the start of all this? He is one of the boys who met me then.

“What is going on, Sir? This has to be corrected!” he said to me then. He was abrupt, brisk. Disrespectful. He had been a part of it from the beginning. Now he was asking me about my retirement.

“I intend to retire, but I do not know who to hand the notice in to,” I replied.

Shortly after, I heard Fairoosh was now the Acting Commissioner. I was shocked. My retirement was yet to be accepted. They took it upon themselves. Apparently, they even took a vote. Sadiq’s name was proposed, he withdrew it. Anyway, it was Fairoosh that was selected.

This is how things happened.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Local media links proposed foreign expert for CoNI review to MDP-commissioned report

A foreign legal expert sought by parliament’s Government Accountability Committee to help review the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) was also behind a report concluding former President Mohamed Nasheed had resigned under duress, local media has reported.

According to local media, a legal team including Associate Professor of Public International Law and Director of Centre for International Justice at University of Copenhagen Anders Henriksen was selected to help oversee the parliamentary review.

The Sun Online news agency today reported that Henriksen, who had been chosen to oversee parliaments CoNI review – delayed late last month over a reported lack of funds – had previously been commissioned by the opposition Maldivian Democratic Party (MDP) to produce a legal report on February’s controversial transfer of power.

The report was published in July 2012.

“To the extent that a ‘coup d’etat’ can be defined as the ‘illegitimate overthrow of a government’, we must therefore also consider the events as a coup d’etat,” read the analysis co-produced by Henriksen, entitled ‘Arrested Democracy’.

The legal team were one of two parties that applied to oversee the review, according to local media.

Sun Online cited sources within the commission as claiming that Henriksen had been chosen after being identified as the most capable party to conduct the review.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Comment: Commonwealth must reopen CoNI in light of new evidence

Dear 
Secretary 
General Kamalesh Sharma,

New 
evidence 
has 
emerged which
 casts
 doubt
 over
 the
 validity
 of 
the 
final 
report
 by
 the
 Commission
 of
 National
 Inquiry 
(CoNI),
 published
 in
 August
 2012.

Following
 its
 publication,
 CoNI’s
 report
 was
 sent
 to 
the 
relevant 
Maldivian 
parliamentary 
oversight
 committee, 
who
 decided
 to 
investigate 
the 
facts 
and
 procedures 
of 
the 
report
 to 
ensure
 its 
accuracy. 
Through
 careful 
review
 of 
the
 report, 
it
 has 
been revealed
 that 
vital 
evidence 
relating 
to 
CoNI’s 
core 
mandate was
 ignored
 and 
no 
explanation 
was 
given 
as 
to 
the 
reason
 for
 this,
 despite 
claims 
by 
CoNI
 that 
no 
information 
was 
disregarded.

CoNI’s
 mandate
 was 
to 
investigate 
whether 
President 
Nasheed
 resigned
 under 
duress,
 due 
to
 threats
 to
 his 
life, 
or 
not. 
The 
committee
 summoned
 Former
 Commissioner 
of 
Police, 
Ahmed
 Faseeh; 
Former 
Chief 
of 
Defense
 Force, 
Moosa 
Ali 
Jaleel;
 Brigadier 
General,
 Ahmed
 Nilam; 
Former 
Chief 
Superintendent 
of 
Police, 
Mohamed 
Hameed 
and 
Former 
Superintendent
 of Police, 
Mohamed
 Jinah
 under
 the 
power
 vested 
in 
a
 parliamentary 
committee
 by 
Article
 99 
of 
the 
Constitution.

Former 
Chief 
of 
Defense 
Force 
Jaleel; 
Former 
CS
 Hameed
 and
 Brigadier
 General 
Nilam
 confirmed
 to 
the 
committee’s
 investigation that
 there 
was 
a 
plot 
to
 assassinate
 President
 Nasheed
 and 
that
 on 
the 
7th 
of 
February
 2012,
 the 
environment
 was 
such
 that 
President 
Nasheed
 had 
reason
 to 
believe 
that 
his 
life 
was 
in
 danger.

This 
information 
was 
further
 verified
 when 
PPM
 Deputy 
Leader,
 Umar
 Naseer,
 in 
an 
interview 
with 
Minivan 
News, 
confirmed 
that
 the
 ousting
 of 
President 
Nasheed
 “did
 not
 happen
 automatically” 
and
 that 
“planning, 
propaganda
 and 
lots 
of 
work” 
went
in 
to
 oust 
the 
constitutionally‐elected 
President. 
Mr 
Naseer 
refused
 to 
cooperate 
with 
the
 Commonwealth
 approved
 CoNI.

In
 addition,
 former
 cabinet 
minister
 (for
 the
 present
 government),
 Ms
 Dhiyana Saeed
 has 
published
 a 
memoir
 regarding 
the
 events 
of
 7th 
February
 2012,
 and
 states
 that 
a
 certain 
‘Mr
 X
 and 
Mr
 Y’
 (later
 revealed
 as 
Deputy 
Speaker
 of 
the
 Parliament,
 Mohamed 
Nazim
 and
 MP 
Mohamed
 Nasheed
 respectively)
 had 
spoken
 to 
her
 of 
a
 plan
 to
 assassinate
 President
 Nasheed,
 in 
which
 the 
present 
Minister 
of 
Defence
 and 
the
 Commissioner 
of 
Police 
were
 involved.

It 
is 
a 
grave
 matter 
of 
concern,
 that 
none 
of 
these 
issues 
were
 highlighted 
by 
the 
two observers 
appointed 
by 
the 
Commonwealth
 to 
CoNI’s 
investigation.

In 
light 
of 
the 
above,
 it 
is 
evident
 that 
the 
validity 
of 
the 
CoNI 
report 
is 
questionable. 
These 
are 
the 
three 
issues 
we 
would
 like 
to 
see 
the 
Commonwealth
 focusing
 on:

1. 
Reopening 
the 
CoNI 
report
 in 
the 
light 
of 
the 
latest 
information
 and 
establishing why
 these 
testimonies 
and 
evidence 
from
 leading
 members
 of 
the 
military 
and
police 
were 
not 
included
 in
 the 
CoNI
 report.

2.
 Overseeing 
a 
further 
inquiry 
into 
the 
threats
 against
 the 
life 
of 
the 
former 
head
 of 
state, 
President
 Mohamed
 Nasheed.

3. 
Pressuring 
the 
current
 president
 to 
establish 
a 
caretaker 
government
 until 
free 
and
 fair 
elections 
can 
be 
held.

Lucy Johnson is a member of UK-based NGO, Friends of Maldives

All comment pieces are the sole view of the author and do not reflect the editorial policy of Minivan News. If you would like to write an opinion piece, please send proposals to [email protected]

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

President Waheed orders officials “shun” Parliament oversight committee

In a letter sent to Parliament Speaker Abdulla Shahid Sunday (January 20) President Mohamed Waheed stated that cabinet members, government officials, and members of the security forces will “shun” Parliament’s Government Accountability Committee, according to Haveeru.

Waheed stated that until Shahid ensures Majlis and Committee actions are “in line” with the Maldivian constitution and Parliament’s rules of procedure, government officials will not adhere to summons by the Committee on Oversight of the Government, reports Sun Online.

This continues the government’s trend of resistance to the Executive Oversight Committee probe of the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI).

The Committee is currently conducting an inquiry into the controversial transfer of power that took place February of last year. It has so far interviewed senior military officers, police officers and senior officials of both the current and former government. The former Maldives National Defence Force (MNDF) chiefs have claimed that former President Mohamed Nasheed had no choice but to resign on February 7, 2012, following a police and military mutiny.

The Committee previously requested President Hassan to hand over statements of key figures of the former government and military officials given to CoNI.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Comment: Maldives competitive, combative, yet cooperative, too

With Maldivian President Mohamed Waheed Hassan Manik returning two [the “political parties” and the “privileges” bills] of the three crucial bills passed by parliament, the stage is now set for a possible, limited confrontation between the executive and the legislature, all over again.

For the third “public assemblies” bill, the president has given his assent, but the opposition Maldivian Democratic Party (MDP) says it would defy the law if it came to that.

The president has rejected the bill that mandates 10,000-strong membership – up from the existing 3,000 – for political parties to be registered by and with the Election Commission (EC).

As the Maldivian budget allocates 0.1 percent of the GDP for the state funding of political parties, which in turn is based on registered membership, the law has serious consequences for smaller parties. Included in the list are the Gaumee Ithihaad Party (GIP) of President Waheed and the Dhivehi Qaumee Party (DQP) of his Special Advisor Dr Hassan Saeed. The DQP was the second runner-up in the first round of presidential polls in 2008.

The Maldives is a nation where democratic education and elections are a costly affair. Given the vast seas that have to be traversed for a campaign – even in individual parliamentary constituencies. as well as the small number of electorate covered in comparison to other countries – few political parties can sustain themselves without state funding.

With other political parties neck-deep in campaigning for the presidential polls due later this year, any last-minute changes in the law could have consequences for them all.

The “political parties” bill regarding privileges of parliament and MPs, which has also been returned to parliament by the president, has limited application. However, the bill assumes greater significance in the context of some government ministers and other political party leaders in the government ridiculing parliamentarians, and threatening [to remove] them from public platforms.

In the case of the religion-centric Adhaalath Party (AP) for instance, together the two bills could stall its recent efforts to project itself as the self-appointed defender of Islam among Maldivian political parties, protecting Maldivian people’s rights via their elected representatives. Needless to point out, the AP does not have any elected member in the People’s Majlis (parliament).

President Waheed aims at regulating public assemblies and rallies through the third bill. It is a reaction to the MDP rallies following the February 7 transfer-of-power, some of which turned violent. Protests and counter-protests had a tendency to multiply, and the security forces had little power or even the scope to regulate them; especially considering the distance between rival groups’ rallies.

Armed with the 2008 constitutional guarantee protecting the citizens’ rights in the matter, an air of permissiveness was threatening tranquility in the tourism-driven country.

Consensus and cohabitation

Parliament is in recess at present, and is not expected to meet again until March. It is almost a foregone conclusion that the house will vote the two bills be returned to the President, enabling a mandatory assent for both, within 14 days of such passage.

The opposition MDP as the single largest party cannot protest in the interim considering party leader and former President Mohamed Nasheed similarly returned a bill amending the Finance Act, only to grant his assent at the last-minute after the Majlis passed it a second time.

However, what is interesting is the combination of votes that each of these bills polled. Though moved by MDP members in the Parliament, the ‘political parties’ bill and the ‘privileges’ bill had the support of the Progressive Party of Maldives (PPM) and the Dhivehi Rayyithunge Party (DRP), the top two parties in President Waheed’s government.

The MDP opposed the bill regulating public assemblies, but other political parties in the government mustered their strength to have it passed.

The combination can pose an embarrassment, though not a challenge, to the government in general and President Waheed in particular, when parliament votes on the two returned bills. The MDP can then actively consider moving the no-confidence motion against President Waheed, which it has been talking about for a long time.

The government parties can be expected to rally around their President – whose term expires later this year – to deny the mandatory two-thirds vote for the impeachment of the head of state.

For the MDP, it could still serve a limited purpose – that is if they are capable of putting together a winning alliance.

Indications are that every party in the government now wants to put up a candidate for the presidential polls, and could rally round the top one in the second, run-off round. Some parties in the coalition may also develop other ideas during the second-round polls, where MDP’s Nasheed may be considered.

What needs noting at such a stage is the emergence of ‘consensus politics’ in present-day Maldives, both inside and outside Parliament, at a time when the nation is otherwise burdened by political divisions and personality clashes.

Independent of the issues involved, it could also set the tone for ‘cohabitation politics’, where the executive and the legislature would be seen as learning to live with each other. The Maldives would then have matured into a democracy capable of voting on issues, inside parliament and outside, moving away from personalities even while retaining the party-tag, to a limited extent at the very least.

Jarring notes, still?

What may send out a jarring note against this background is the MDP’s declaration that the bill regulating public assemblies could not stop the party from launching its promised ‘revolution’. Considering that the ‘revolution’ call was given by at meeting of the MDP’s National Council that had discussed the pending criminal case against President Nasheed, the two may be inter-linked. Thereby hangs a tale, as any conviction of President Nasheed on the charge of ordering the ‘illegal detention’ of Criminal Court Chief Judge Abdulla Mohamed while he was in power could disqualify him from contesting the elections.

Apart from the ‘Nasheed case’, the Supreme Court is already seized with litigation pertaining to the powers of the legislature vis-a-vie the judiciary; particularly in the summoning of sitting judges trying President Nasheed before a house committee.

Interestingly, the majority decision of the parliament, endorsed also by Speaker Abdulla Shahid, favours the sovereignty of the people under the constitutional scheme, represented by the supremacy of Parliament over the powers and independence of the judiciary. A judicial interpretation in context would have consequences that the infant democracy has to learn in the interim.

Of equal importance in the Nasheed case, in terms of the immediacy of the circumstances involved, would be any case proceeding from the second passage of the “political parties” bill, with mandatory assent from the President. The Adhaalath Party has already declared its intention to fight it out legally, but such a course would now have to wait until after the bill becomes law.

The question is if the judiciary has adequate time to adjudicate on the issue between the time the bill becomes law and the notification for fresh elections to the presidency. If not, would the status quo be maintained in the matter? If in the process, would any judicial stay of the new law pending final disposal be challenged by the legislature, but not the executive as it exists now?

Revisiting CoNI report

Even as these complicated questions beg acceptable and adaptable answers, the MDP has gone ahead with revisiting the report of the Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI), which upheld the power-transfer of February 7 last year. The MDP-controlled Parliament Committee on Government Oversight has opened investigations on the CoNI Report, which has been endorsed by the incumbent Government and the international community alike.

Under powers purportedly entrusted to it, the committee has decided to summon President Waheed and President Nasheed to appear before it. The committee has also decided to get two external experts (obviously of its choice) to comment on the CoNI report. As if tit-for-tat, a temporary committee of parliament, where the government has a majority, has decided to investigate the commissions and omissions of the Nasheed presidency with renewed vigour.

More recently, the MDP members of the committee, meeting in the absence of other party members, have directed the nation’s Prosecutor General (PG) to proceed legally against incumbent Defence Minister Mohammed Nazim and Police Commissioner Abdullah Riaz on charges of violating Article 99 of the Constitution, by their refusal to honour the panel’s summons, for their interrogation on the CoNI Report. However, the committee has spared Ahmed Shiyam, chief of the Maldivian National Defence Forces (MNDF).

The committee’s views are opposed to those of Attorney General Azima Shakoor, who had earlier written to Speaker Abdullah Shahid that the proceedings were at variance with the Majlis’ Rules of Procedure, and has failed to protect the rights and privileges of individuals summoned before it. If taken forward, this has the potential for a clash between constitutional institutions, though ultimately if approached the Supreme Court could clarify the position.

Apart from the legislative business and judicial pronouncements, such initiatives too have consequences that would cancel out each other at one level, but complicate matters otherwise.

What the political parties need to understand and accept is the fact that neither in constitutional terms, nor in political terms, are such measures expected to give them an additional advantage, either in domestic elections or with the international community.

For that to happen, they have to be seen as winning the presidential polls first and the parliamentary polls next year. The rest of it would be dismissed as fencing by their domestic constituencies and wagering by the international community.

In the process, they would have dissipated their own energies and also frustrated their constituencies, at home and afar. For they are all still working on more problems that the nation can ill-afford and is even more ill-equipped to handle, not on solutions to the existing problems, which are also of their own making.

The writer is a Senior Fellow at Observer Research Foundation

All comment pieces are the sole view of the author and do not reflect the editorial policy of Minivan News. If you would like to write an opinion piece, please send proposals to [email protected]

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)

Deadline to seek foreign experts for CoNI investigation extended

The deadline to seek two foreign experts for investigation into the report of Commission of National Inquiry (CoNI) has been extended, local media has reported.

Parliament’s Committee on Oversight of the Government decided to extend the deadline until Sunday, as proper procedure was not followed when the announcement was published on the website by the parliament office, local media stated.

Committee Chairperson and Maldivian Democratic Party (MDP) MP Ali Waheed was quoted by local media as saying that the announcement, written in English, had been published in the Dhivehi section of the parliament website rather than in the English section.

“I am concerned about what the employees of the parliament office have done. It’s not acceptable that an announcement that should have been published in the English section was published in the Dhivehi section. We have to pay attention to this,” Waheed was quoted as saying in Sun Online.

Committee members said that individuals interested in applying for assisting in the investigation of the CoNI report did not have any information on how to apply for this post, local media reported.

The announcement seeks two experts who have experience working in world legislative assemblies, who are willing to work with the committee members for two weeks.

Likes(0)Dislikes(0)