- Minister’s claim enough fuel stocks and all shipments expected; same evening Prez admits two oil shipments failed to arrive
- QR bungling as NPP reluctance to follow old systems, good or bad
- Opposition’s failure to act in unity
- AG’s Dept. double standards on Chamara Sampath Dasanayake and Kumara Jayakody charge sheets
Energy politics is nothing new to Sri Lanka.
In 1971, when the India-Pakistan war broke out, an oil-tanker with a full capacity of refined petroleum got stuck in the Indian Ocean in close proximity to Sri Lanka. As the ship could not enter Indian, West Pakistani or East Pakistani ports, the Singaporean oil company that owned the shipment offered it to Sri Lanka at a highly subsidised price. The Cabinet of Ministers of Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike’s Government discussed this offer, but Trade Minister T.B. Illangaratne lamented that there is no capacity for storage as the Kolonnawa tanks were full to their capacity. The ‘golden brain’ of Finance Minister Dr. N.M. Perera found a solution. “Let’s spread a rumour that there is a major oil shortage that is expected,” he suggested. A Cabinet ‘secret’ was leaked to three top inside story writers of the Daily News, the Times of Ceylon and the Sun. Cautious editors double checked with their Cabinet sources, who confirmed that ‘something to that effect’ was discussed. The following day, there were long queues at petrol sheds and in two days, the oil tanks at Kolonnawa were empty to take the new load of supplies from the stranded ship.
The current shortage is not a Cabinet-made one, but due to the same panic-buying mental condition. The authorities bungled by delaying the introduction of the quick response (QR) code system, fearing the charge that the same old formulae of the previous regime is followed intact. The Digital Economy Ministry rushed in with the QR system later, without proper preparation. This has resulted in massive queues and public ire.
Sri Lanka once again finds itself at the mercy of distant wars and disturbingly, familiar policy paralysis at home. The escalating conflict between the US, Israel and Iran has triggered a global energy shock, with oil prices surging past US Dollars ($) 100 and supply routes like the Strait of Hormuz disrupted. For a country that imports nearly all its fuel, the consequences have been swift and severe.
Within days, Sri Lanka has been pushed into emergency mode. Fuel shortages exceeding tens of thousands of metric tonnes have forced the Government into costly spot purchases, rationing, and ad hoc procurement.
A four-day work week, fuel quotas, and appeals for reduced consumption have followed. These are not strategic solutions; they are survival tactics. The ripple effects are already visible as fuel prices have risen sharply, with knock-on effects on transport and logistics. Food prices are expected to climb due to higher distribution costs, small businesses and daily wage earners face shrinking margins and uncertainty and public services, schools, and administration are slowing down.
This is eerily reminiscent of 2022 — not in scale yet, but certainly in direction.
The Government’s actions betray a reactive mindset. There are valid charges of political inertia and failure in crisis management as it is being done without a proper vision. Committees are being appointed, tenders floated, and emergency imports arranged, but, where is the anticipatory governance?
Evening news, morning truth: A Govt. in 2 acts
In Sri Lanka, truth now appears to have a shift system. By day, it is reassuring, composed, and fully stocked. By night, it is apologetic, delayed, and apparently stuck somewhere in the Indian Ocean.
On Tuesday morning (17) in Parliament, Energy Minister Kumara Jayakody confidently assured the country that sufficient fuel and stocks were available. In his morning briefing, Cabinet Spokesperson Dr. Nalinda Jayatissa, chest out and sleeves rolled, assured the nation that fuel stocks were sufficient, shipments were on schedule, and there was absolutely no cause for alarm. The tone was firm: “No queues, no crisis, no problem.”
By evening however, the script had undergone a dramatic rewrite. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, in a more sombre two-pocket attire, conceded that two expected oil shipments had, in fact, not arrived. Not delayed, not rerouted, simply absent, like guests who declined the invitation without notice.
As a wit commented, Sri Lankans are now governed by what appears to be two parallel administrations. The morning Government – optimistic, data-rich, and confidently wrong, and the evening Government – cautious, corrective, and quietly truthful.
The problem is not merely inconsistency. It is the growing suspicion that one half does not know what the other is saying — or worse, that both do, and simply hope that the public will not notice. If the Government cannot keep track of its own ships, how can it expect the country to stay on course?
Back to the queue? QR confusion
Government actions got unnecessarily delayed although there were clear warnings. Global tensions had been escalating for weeks, energy markets were already tightening and regional countries began contingency planning early. Yet, Sri Lanka appears to have been caught flat-footed again.
Even business chambers are now urging tighter foreign exchange controls and the prioritisation of essential imports. These measures should have been in place pre-emptively and not after the horse bolted.
Sri Lanka’s fuel story has taken yet another familiar turn, this time wrapped in a QR code. The re-emergence, confusion, and partial bungling of the QR-based petrol quota system has exposed a deeper political dilemma for the ruling National People's Power (NPP): how to govern a crisis without inheriting the tools of its predecessors.
The QR fuel quota system, introduced during the height of the 2022 crisis, was widely seen as one of the few functional emergency mechanisms under the previous Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP)-United National Party (UNP)-led administration. It was not perfect, but it worked. It reduced queues. It rationed scarce fuel efficiently and it brought a degree of predictability to the chaos.
Today, as global shocks from the Middle East once again squeeze supplies, the same system has been dusted off, but without the clarity, discipline, or conviction that made it effective.
The NPP’s initial hesitation is understandable. After all, embracing a system so closely associated with the previous regime risks undermining its narrative of “system change”. It is also an acknowledging that past governance had workable solutions.
But governance is not opposition politics. In a crisis, citizens do not care who invented the solution, only whether it works. What Sri Lanka is witnessing now is not a failure of the QR system itself, but a failure of implementation. It has to sort out mixed messaging on quotas and schedules and technical glitches and inconsistent enforcement.
This episode reveals a broader tension within the NPP. Its ideological instinct has been to break from past systems, reject old regime fixes. However, the administrative reality is that crises demand continuity, not reinvention.
Sri Lanka’s economic fragility leaves little room for experimentation during emergencies. Fuel supply chains, foreign exchange management, and logistics require precision and not political symbolism.
Opposition divided while the nation drifts
In moments of national strain, the strength of a democracy is measured not only by the Government that it elects, but by the Opposition that it tolerates. By that measure, Sri Lanka today is operating with only half a system.
As the country grapples with fuel uncertainty, rising costs, and policy confusion, the Opposition benches remain a theatre of fragmentation, energetic in rhetoric, but ineffective in unity.
Sri Lanka’s Opposition landscape is crowded but incoherent. We hear too many voices, but very little direction. The SJB, the UNP, and remnants of the SLPP, the upcoming Mawbima Janatha Pakshaya, all claim to offer alternatives. Yet, they rarely speak in one voice, even on issues where consensus should be obvious. On fuel shortages, they issue separate statements and no joint strategy. On economic management, they offer competing critiques but no unified proposal. There are loud accusations on governance failures of the JVP/NPP, but fail to offer coordinated actions or offer solutions. The result is political chorus without harmony, noise without impact.
As commentators say, the Government’s greatest asset is a divided Opposition. Ironically, the ruling JVP/NPP benefits not from flawless governance, but from a flawed Opposition.
Recent crises have offered multiple opportunities for Opposition unity. They include the contradictory messaging on fuel availability, the confusion over QR-based rationing and the broader economic anxieties triggered by global shocks. Each of these could have been a rallying point for a joint Parliamentary front, a unified public campaign, or even a common minimum programme. Instead, they became isolated talking points, claimed, contested, and ultimately diluted.
At the heart of the problem lies a familiar Sri Lankan political trait: leadership rivalry over institutional responsibility. Party leaders guard their individual brands and alliances are viewed as threats, not opportunities. Their electoral calculations override national urgency and the cost of this fragmentation is borne not in Parliament, but in the daily lives of citizens facing uncertainty.
“Dasanayake versus Jayakody” comparison
The Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption has filed indictments in the Colombo High Court against Jayakody over alleged corruption dating back to his time at the Lanka Fertiliser Company. The charges involve granting an unlawful benefit to a private contractor, causing a loss of about Rs. 8.8 million. Despite indictments, Jayakody remains a sitting Minister, with the Government saying that it will await due legal process before action.
Raising this issue in Parliament, Opposition Parliamentarian Chamara Sampath Dasanayake alleged that Jayakody was given preferential treatment and released on bail while he faced faster legal action, arrest and harsher treatment including remand custody.
Opposition MPs and critics have used Parliament to argue “double standards”, claiming that some individuals are rapidly prosecuted or politically targeted, while others like Jayakody are allowed to remain in office despite formal indictments. When in the Opposition, the NPP demanded resignations over mere allegations; now it waits for court verdicts.
This line of criticism is explicitly echoed in public commentary questioning whether the Government is now “protecting its own”.
Active foreign policy
Predictably, Sri Lanka issued a call for de-escalation and peace. But, beyond diplomatic platitudes, Sri Lanka’s foreign policy appears passive at a time when proactive neutrality could yield tangible benefits such as securing preferential fuel arrangements, and leveraging regional partnerships, notably with India, which has already received energy requests and is positioning itself as a logistical or diplomatic intermediary.
Instead of being merely a bystander to great power rivalry, Sri Lanka could revive its historic diplomatic tradition and help mobilise a coalition of neutral nations to push for peace. Sri Lanka could propose what might be called a Colombo peace initiative, a diplomatic effort bringing together neutral and middle-power nations that have no direct military stake in the conflict. Instead, Sri Lanka is once again a price-taker in global geopolitics.
The views and opinions expressed in this column are those of the author, and do not necessarily reflect those of this publication