Even though the killing of the Weligama Pradeshiya Sabha Chairman is being portrayed as yet another episode of organised crime in Sri Lanka’s underworld saga, the attempt to downplay the incident seems disturbingly well organised. The assassination – the 101st contract-style killing this year – reveals more than just a pattern of violence and exposes the moral decay within a State apparatus that has become comfortable with impunity.
The murder of a sitting Local Government Chairman, in his office, during working hours, in one of the country’s main tourist hubs, should have triggered mass outrage. Instead, it has been met with cynical justifications and character assassinations by those who should be upholding the rule of law. The Public Security Minister’s first reaction was not to express remorse, announce an investigation, or reassure the public, but to condemn the victim’s character. That, in itself, tells a story far more chilling than the shooting.
If background checks were to be conducted on the National People’s Power’s (NPP) 159 Members of Parliament including the Minister himself, how many would emerge with spotless records? Why, then, is the regime so determined to vilify the dead before the facts are known? Is it to distract the public from the Government’s failure to provide the protection the victim had explicitly requested two months prior? Shockingly, the victim had stated in his letter that he needed protection from gangsters already in Police custody! Or is it an effort to bury the uncomfortable truth that Sri Lanka’s law enforcement machinery is becoming increasingly selective?
Whatever the excuse, the killing of the Local Government Chairman in Weligama, the hub of the southern tourism belt, has sent shockwaves far beyond its provincial borders, impacting not just law and order but the country’s tourism fortunes and, by extension, the economy. Tourism, which has just begun to recover from years of economic and political instability, cannot thrive in an environment where people are gunned down in broad daylight. Incidents like this validate the US State Department’s recent travel advisory warning its citizens about Sri Lanka’s current security environment.
The Government, however, appears blind to the economic implications of such events. It does not seem to realise that Sri Lanka’s economy remains fragile and cannot afford the luxury of deadly distractions. Every act of lawlessness, every sign of instability, chips away at the delicate confidence the country is struggling to rebuild. If Sri Lanka is to stand on its feet again, it must earn its way through integrity, not propaganda. The Weligama killing is not just about one man’s death, for it also mirrors the broader moral and structural bankruptcy that defines the State. A Government that fails to protect life is unlikely to protect livelihoods.
Earlier this week, Rural Development and Social Security Minister Dr. Upali Pannilage made a startling revelation. According to him, 80% of Sri Lankan families have applied for ‘Aswesuma’ welfare benefits, despite only one-third of them being genuinely in need. Out of 5.2 million families in the country, 4.3 million have applied for welfare which is reserved for the poorest of the poor. That means four out of every five households in Sri Lanka now seek some form of State support. Pannilage called this a symptom of “mental poverty” and blamed the country’s political culture for nurturing a dependency mindset.
Although he is not entirely wrong, his statement reeks of hypocrisy when it comes from a Government whose very rise to power was built on romanticising poverty and vilifying wealth. Many of the NPP’s 159 MPs paraded as ‘poor comrades of the people’ before the election. They ate, travelled, and campaigned on handouts from the very citizens they now accuse of having a ‘taking mentality.’ The comrades feigned austerity until the time came to declare assets. It is only then that the extent of their wealth emerged, with many multimillionaires masquerading as poor revolutionaries. So, if the people have developed a habit of ‘taking,’ they have merely followed the example of their leaders.
For decades, successive governments have used welfare as a political currency. From ‘Janasaviya’ to ‘Samurdhi’ to ‘Aswesuma,’ welfare schemes have been less about social protection and more about political protection. Budgets have been inflated with subsidies, handouts, and relief packages to curry favour with voters, even when the Treasury was running on thin ice.
The NPP, which prided itself on being different, will have to face the same test. Will it continue the culture of handouts, or will it have the courage to shift from relief to reform? Every rupee borrowed for welfare is a rupee stolen from the future; a future already mortgaged to international creditors. The regime, despite its rhetoric of ‘system change,’ has already borrowed billions and printed over a trillion rupees within its first year. The painful lesson of bankruptcy, that a nation cannot borrow its way to prosperity, appears to have been forgotten all too soon.
True recovery will not come from loans or slogans. It will come only when the State learns to live within its means – to spend what it earns, and to earn what it spends. That requires discipline from the people as well as their leadership – something that is sadly missing if the current state of ‘Aswesuma’ and the asset declarations of the leadership are anything to go by.
If the Government’s handling of law and order reveals its moral bankruptcy, its management of State enterprises exposes its financial one. The recent audit report of SriLankan Airlines stands as a tragic metaphor for the entire nation of how a once-proud entity is now drowning in losses and excuses.
Under the previous administration, SriLankan Airlines had reported a profit of Rs. 3.8 billion for the 2023/’24 financial year. Under the current regime, that has reversed to a staggering loss of Rs. 7.6 billion in 2024/’25. The group’s revenue has fallen by Rs. 36 billion year-on-year, while passenger numbers have also declined despite higher tourist arrivals. Employee costs have risen to nearly Rs. 33 billion, and the Auditor General’s report has warned that the airline’s liabilities exceed its assets, casting doubt on its ability to survive as a “going concern”.
The supreme irony is that the same Government that is boasting about saving Rs. 95 million by cutting perks to former presidents has presided over a Rs. 7.6 billion loss – 120 times the amount ‘saved’ – involving the State-owned airline, which is being kept afloat through punitive taxes on food, clothing, transport, and wages.
The question then arises as to why the Government continues to pour billions into a failed enterprise. The answer is political. SriLankan Airlines is not an airline per se to those in authority; it is an entire political ecosystem. Controlling an entity that handles Rs. 7 billion in public funds allows control of contracts, appointments, and influence. The Rs. 7.6 billion lost this year could have built over 1,500 new schools at Rs. 5 million each.
At the same time, the NPP Government seems intent on restructuring the profitable Ceylon Electricity Board (CEB) under the pretext of ‘reform,’ which many argue is a prelude to privatisation. The regime wants to palm off a profit-making institution that is also critically important to the security of the nation, while clinging to a loss-making one. Intriguing indeed.
While tourism remains one of Sri Lanka’s few viable paths to recovery, the Weligama killing, the surge in gang-related shootings, and the general erosion of law enforcement are challenging the modest progress being made. Tourists might overlook poor roads or power cuts, but they will not ignore fear. The morbid spectacle of a Local Government Head being executed in broad daylight in a seaside tourist hub will likely send a far stronger message than any travel brochure could counter.
The Government’s apologists would argue that crime happens everywhere. True, but in functional democracies, the response is swift, impartial, and transparent. In Sri Lanka, it is political, selective, and often self-serving. Following the Weligama killing, both the Minister in charge of the Police and the Police went out of their way to label the victim as an underworld figure, not only assassinating his character as he is yet to be declared guilty of any crime by a court of law, but also insinuating by doing so that the killing could thus be justified.
The regime must realise that it cannot preach law and order while law enforcement is selective. It cannot talk of economic reform while protecting inefficiency. It cannot call for sacrifice from citizens while wasting billions in mismanagement and political vanity. The people will eventually see through it, as will investors and the world. No country can grow when its leaders feed off the State while its citizens feed off handouts.