“Rebellion is born when rulers forget they are meant to serve” – Confucius
The 10 days from 17-26 September are more than just a cluster of anniversaries in Sri Lanka’s political calendar. They are a reminder of the cycles of promise, betrayal, upheaval, and resilience that have defined this nation since independence. In this short span, the nation commemorates the birth of its first Executive President (17), the 79th anniversary of the United National Party (UNP) (20), the first anniversary of the National People’s Power (NPP) Government (23), the annual United Nations General Assembly sessions (24) where Sri Lanka takes its place on the world stage, and the assassination of S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike (26), whose death reshaped the country’s political trajectory.
Each of these events offers lessons, and together, they form a mirror reflecting not only where we have been, but also where we stand today – and perhaps where we are headed if the people fail to hold their rulers accountable.
Junius Richard Jayewardene, Sri Lanka’s first Executive President, assumed the presidency in 1978 and wasted no time in ushering in an economic transformation unprecedented in South Asia. While most of the region was still mired in command economies and socialist experiments, Sri Lanka under Jayewardene dared to embrace a Western-style open economy. The impact was immediate. Export processing zones were established, an export-oriented manufacturing sector took root, and global attention turned to the small island nation that seemed to leapfrog ahead of its peers. Singapore, and even China in its early reform years, closely studied the Sri Lankan model.
The generosity of international partners further fuelled this momentum. Japan gifted Sri Lanka a new Parliament, a state-of-the-art hospital at Sri Jayewardenepura, and the Sri Lanka Rupavahini Corporation. Britain funded the mighty Victoria Dam while other nations pitched in to fund the multi-dam mega Mahaweli project. Ports and airports were expanded. For a fleeting moment, Sri Lanka stood as a symbol of what was possible in the developing world.
Yet history would not be kind. The ethnic riots of 1983 and the quick descent into full-scale civil war derailed that trajectory. The Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) insurrection in the late 1980s, ironically under Jayewardene’s watch, plunged the nation into bloodshed and repression. The ‘engine of growth’ spluttered and then stalled. The tragedy of Jayewardene’s legacy is that he built the foundation for prosperity but could not prevent the fissures of ethnicity from ripping it apart. The lesson being, development without inclusion is fragile and economic success without social justice is unsustainable.
Fast forward to 2025. On 23 September, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake will mark his first anniversary in office. The JVP, reborn as the NPP, has come full circle – from staging armed insurrections in the 1970s and 1980s to leading a democratically elected Government. The symbolism is rich. The very movement that once sought to topple governments through rebellion now governs from the Presidential Secretariat. Yet symbolism is not substance and the first year of NPP rule has been one of mixed fortunes.
Economically, the Government can claim modest credit. S&P Global Ratings upgraded Sri Lanka’s sovereign rating last week, signalling stability. But stability is not growth. The country remains stuck in low gear, with projections for expansion tepid at best while ordinary Sri Lankans still wait for the promised relief on fuel, electricity, and cost of living. Politically, the NPP is facing growing discontent. The anti-corruption crusade that propelled it to power has yielded little beyond the prosecution of small fry. The so-called ‘big fish’ continue to remain elusive while nothing is spoken about the Easter Sunday attacks investigation. Worse, some in the Government itself now face scrutiny.
The allegations against Minister Wasantha Samarasinghe are particularly damaging. His attempts to deflect by pointing fingers at others have backfired with social media erupting, asking uncomfortable questions like how did those who once claimed to live hand-to-mouth amass millions? How come those who accepted bunches of bananas, rice, coconuts, clothes, and even donations for visiting funerals, suddenly declare millions in ancestral wealth? And if this wealth truly was ancestral, where are the tax records to prove it? The hypocrisy stings all the more because these were the same voices that proclaimed, “We don’t need what the people don’t have.” Now, while the masses still struggle with inflated bills and cost of living, ministers are dabbling in cryptocurrency investments. The betrayal is palpable.
Beyond economic disappointment for the people lies a darker trend – the growing authoritarian instincts of the NPP leadership. Consider the chilling remarks of a top NPP trade union activist, now Mayor of Kaduwela, who last Friday (19) warned union leaders not to challenge the Government. His words – boasting that the NPP had seized power through protests and was prepared to “kill as well as die” to keep it – sounded less like democratic politics and more like the rhetoric of revolutionary militancy. He also warned the current union leaders to “carefully study” his party’s history, an ominous warning. This is the same individual, who while in Opposition, mobilised unions to fight against CEB restructuring. In government, he insists the same reforms are acceptable. What was treachery under Wickremesinghe is suddenly patriotism under Dissanayake.
At the UNP’s 79th anniversary celebrations yesterday (20), many speakers warned of a ‘fascist regime’ taking root. Comparisons were drawn to Adolf Hitler, who too came to power through democratic means before dismantling democracy itself. Such warnings may sound alarmist but they should not be dismissed lightly. History is full of examples where democratic movements, once in power, became the very tyrannies they had fought. Ranil Wickremesinghe, often written off as politically finished, echoed the sentiments of most speakers claiming that the Government was attempting to establish a constitutional dictatorship. He went a step further and called on the collective Opposition to take to the streets with 1,000 rallies. The UNP anniversary seemed more than a nostalgic gathering, turning out to be a show of Opposition unity with representatives from all Opposition parties in attendance. Whether this unity can translate into electoral strength remains to be seen. But the mere fact of a united Opposition front is significant. For the first time since the NPP’s electoral victory, there is the hint of an alternative political narrative.
But even as these domestic dramas unfold, President Dissanayake is set to attend the UN General Assembly in New York. While the trip will be an opportunity to court international partners, it will also be a test of the international community’s acceptance of Sri Lanka’s economic and political reforms.
Last but not least, 26 September marks the anniversary of the assassination of S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike in 1959. It can be argued that his death changed the course of Sri Lanka’s political history, elevating Sirimavo Bandaranaike as the world’s first woman Prime Minister and cementing the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) as a formidable force. Today, the once-mighty SLFP lies in shambles, reduced to irrelevance. Its demise is a reminder of how quickly political fortunes can shift, and how parties that fail to adapt are swept aside by history.
The lessons of September are many. Jayewardene’s legacy is that bold economic reforms can ignite growth, but without addressing social divisions they can collapse into conflict. The NPP’s first year has taught that revolutionary rhetoric is easy, but governing with integrity and consistency is hard – that promises without delivery breed disillusionment and hypocrisy corrodes legitimacy. The UNP anniversary gathering underlined the fact that the Opposition, however weakened, can regenerate when democracy itself is threatened. The lesson from S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike is that no political dynasty or party is eternal. Power is fleeting; only service to the people endures.
Confucius’ warning remains as relevant today as it was centuries ago: rebellion is born when rulers forget they are meant to serve. The NPP came to power on the wings of hope, vowing to clean up corruption, ease economic burdens, and restore dignity to governance. One year later, it risks squandering that trust. The choice before the NPP is stark. It can return to its roots, live up to its promises, and prove that a revolutionary party can govern democratically and ethically. Or it can feed on its authoritarian instincts, enrich its leaders, and silence dissent, inviting the rebellion that Confucius warned of.
The events of late September remind us that Sri Lanka’s history is one of constant struggle between promise and betrayal, democracy and authoritarianism, hope and despair. Whether the future tilts towards progress or regression depends not only on those in power, but on the vigilance and courage of the people.