Let me just say at the outset that I didn’t vote for this government. In fact, I tried to convince in my own small way as many people as I could to not vote the incumbent president or his party. I want to make that clear now, before it becomes fashionable to hate this lot (which, I suspect, it’s already starting to) and I’m accused of being a contrarian. I voted Ranil, for reasons I have expressed here and elsewhere, and I shall always stand by that decision. Okay. Now, with that out of the way, I just want to say: the NPP government must be protected at all costs.
Yes. Really. Until and unless they fuck up colossally the way Gota did, it is imperative that the Dissanayake administration not only be allowed to see its first term through but is actively supported every step of the way (within reason obviously). There is a good, sobering reason the NPP must continue to be in power for the next five years, and it has nothing to do with how awesome they are, because clearly they’re not. Far from it; so fucking far that a bunch of fresh-out-of-A/L interns could conceivably do a better job. Sure, I’m exaggerating for effect, but is it really that far from the truth? Just look at how they handled the rice and coconut issues, or more recently the islandwide blackout. It’s total amateur-hour here, and they’re already running out of excuses. Worse, they see even good-faith, constructive criticism as sabotage. Worse still, they’re arrogant beyond belief while being terrible at their job. But here’s the kicker: as obnoxious as they are, as frustrating as their shenanigans can be, it’s important that these guys stick around, even if it means we’re run by a learn-on-the-job clown show, because the alternative, as things stand now, is pretty bleak.
Something wicked this way comes
What might be this ominous alternative? Well, it’s a safe bet that it isn’t Ranil. As much as it pains me to say it, there is no universe in which the man can realistically be expected to win a presidential election; 2005 was as close as it was ever going to get (damn you, Prabha). The UNP-SJB reunification talks are going nowhere, and Sri Lanka’s so-called “centre-right” is a joke. I despise the SJB and its leadership (save for a few like Harsha and Kabir), but I could hold my nose and vote them if it came down to it, as it did at the parliamentary polls in November. The problem however is that, every election cycle that passes, it seems less and less clear that Sajith has the mass appeal that his populist persona should be expected to command. Now, that’s not because populism is dead. It’s alive and well, the NPP being its current mandated custodians. It’s because Sajith is just not the guy, for reasons that are apparent to anyone but his closest allies. And annoyingly it doesn’t look like he can be persuaded to give up the reins anytime soon. The point is, the immediate alternative is not Ranil; nor is it Sajith. There is no discernible “third force” either. There used to be, but they’re in power now. That leaves only two possibilities: a Rajapaksa comeback, or something worse. My money is on something worse.
I’m automatically ruling out here commonly cited aspirants to the throne like Champika, because at least in his case I think, and possibly Champika himself believes, that that ship has sailed. While guys like Champika are certainly not without their baggage — and you and I would rather vote a cactus — these are seasoned politicians, so even if he did win, it wouldn’t be the worst outcome (I say this fully aware of his problematic record). One thing you can more or less guarantee with these types is that, whatever they might have said in the past, especially when in opposition, they know better than to upset the apple cart too much and, crucially, they can be reasoned with, at least up to a point. Politicians are also a mercifully unprincipled bunch, which means that, on a long enough timeline, no ideologue can expect to survive. Adapt or perish, they must; and sometimes ‘adapt’ can mean ‘change beyond recognition’. Eventually, every “radical”, every “libertarian”, every “fascist” gets in line. They have to, out of sheer necessity. Of course, there are and have been exceptions; exceptions that cost this country dearly. But as a general rule, I think it sort of works. However, and herein lies the rub, every now and again, an upstart emerges, an “outsider” with unearned confidence in their grandiose vision and their calling to “fix” what cannot be fixed. They are a kind of force, larger than the sum of their internalities, and a formidable one if allowed to be; a force that, once unleashed, mere realpolitik will not contain.
I’m not necessarily referring to a specific individual, though one certainly springs to mind even at this early stage. Think of it more as a vacancy of sorts, one that many are lining up to fill but a handful will get the call for the interview and only one will clinch the job. The employer, in this admittedly tenuous metaphor, is of course the ‘bai’ vote bloc, who elected Gota en masse and have now switched their allegiance to the NPP. It won’t be long before they start looking for a new champion. Such is their fickleness, their mind-numbing inability to commit to a cause.
To bai or not to bai
What is a baiya anyway? It no longer means an uncritical meat-rider of the Rajapaksas. A baiya is basically, in my view at least, a roughly middle-class Sinhala Buddhist voter who has for decades been fed a diet of regressive left-nationalism, addicted to state-subsidised luxuries relative to the poor (Umesh and Yolani have a whole paper on the political economy of this phenomenon, though they don’t use the word baiya), and whose loyalty can essentially be bought with empty promises wrapped in populist rhetoric, or coaxed out of by pointing at a real or imagined threat or, more tragically, by invoking in them the fear of the other. For many years now, this demographic has been voting more or less as a single bloc as evidenced most recently by the landslide election of Gota followed by the complete and utter rejection of his entire family, and their eventual replacement by AKD and the comrades (band name, anyone?). It won’t be long now before these same voters are pining for their next saviour; and you just know a good few of the candidates are consulting their astrologers as we speak.
While no one seems to have made much headway, there may be at least one favourite; and they’re not wasting any time. Already, this person is sowing the seeds of a coming culture war. You can see it in their immaculately crafted statements, their sleek multimedia messaging about the sanctity of marriage, about womanhood and all that is holy. You can see it in their apparent horror at the quietest, most inconsequential discussion on sexual minorities and their rights. Chances are, being the savvy comms person they are, this person is trying to position their platform as Sri Lanka’s answer to MAGA, but with a veneer of respectability and entrepreneurial intellectualism. It hasn’t been a month since Trump’s inauguration and their vocabulary is already teeming with tired gender-war language imported straight from the US, while, ironically, screaming blue murder at American soft-power initiatives. The plan is clearly to position themselves as a viable alternative to the NPP, especially in the absence of a halfway decent centre-right opposition coalition.
But perhaps I’m being premature and not very fair. Who knows how they will turn out if and when they’re actually in power? But here, again, is that pesky rub. Both locally and globally, there is historical precedence for anyone outside the “establishment” being a veritable disaster waiting to happen. (By establishment in this case I mean the political mainstream, which the JVP always belonged to, no matter how much they pretended otherwise). Such leaders also, notoriously, display a distinct lack of the kind of emotional intelligence and empathy required to build an inclusive society. Why would this time be any different?
In AKD we trust (because who the fuck else is there in this government?)
Assuming the NPP doesn’t run the economy into the ground (huge assumption, I realise, but I think they can be trusted to bungle along without total self-immolation, all thanks to Ranil, Nandalal, Mahinda S, the IMF and, of course, the taxpaying public), provided that AKD continues to be sensible and pragmatic with the finance portfolio even if everyone around him stays a giant toddler. In such a scenario, where despite its inexperience the NPP government manages to stay the course (Ranil’s course, I might add), a catastrophe à la 2022 can be avoided and the current level of macro stability can prevail. The problem, however, is that by then the public will have forgotten why they voted for change in the first place. (I don’t believe they actually voted for change, but let’s pretend they did). See, as desirable as stability is, it also breeds political restlessness, and a point comes at which folks start to go a little schizo and see bogeymen everywhere. There is also the fact that early-onset anti-incumbency is now practically the default state of most democracies around the world, where no matter how big they win, governments everywhere are kept on their toes from, like, day one. Progressive or even liberal governments have a tendency to be followed by hawkish right-wing administrations when those in power are unable to address rising discontent.
Vibe shift
Given all this, it is almost inevitable that the NPP is going to have to eat humble pie sooner rather than later. The difference this time is that the next battle for the bai vote will be fought not on grounds of economic ideology, as it logically should be so soon after the worst financial crisis in decades, but, rather, on the most toxic kind of identity politics imaginable, because that’s what’s now in vogue. You can thank the woke left for that. The US-based one, that is. It wasn’t some CIA-backed psy-op. To simplify grossly but not unfairly, it was privileged, far-left(ish), and yes, mostly white academics who had no idea how good they had it holding the Democratic Party to ransom during Trump’s first term as part of some misguided “resistance”. Cancel culture was real and rampant; not a week would go by without someone, somewhere having to incur a massive social cost for the mildest transgression (remember cultural appropriation? Thank heavens that “debate” is over). This only got worse in the Biden years, particularly during the last few months, with these weirdos actively damaging Kamala’s prospects because “fuck the system” (sound familiar?). While it may have been well-intentioned — lord knows America is far from perfect for Black and trans folk — the discourse, driven in part by social media algorithms, only served to create extreme levels of polarisation. And then, out of nowhere, Elon Musk bought Twitter, and everything changed. The “vibe shift” was nearly instantaneous and really quite tangible, as the November US election result went on to show. People could relax a bit now without having to watch their every word. But this new sense of freedom came at a heavy price. The backlash to wokism was as inevitable as it was ugly. Instead of irritating, know-it-all tankies, Twitter is now full of conspiracy-brained far-right troglodytes whose naked racism would make Hitler recoil. It’s gotten to the point that the platform is all but unusable to even the most hardened free speech absolutist. Which is why the three of you are here reading this word vomit and not a 280-character tweet. Oh, and also, we’re now living in a second Trump term, so there is that.
Anyway, how is any of this relevant to us, you might ask? Well, fortunately or unfortunately, with or without USAID or DOGE or whatever, and in spite of Trump’s tireless efforts at geopolitical suicide, America continues to exert tremendous amounts of influence globally, particularly in terms of informing the zeitgeist. As internet penetration grows, the civic space even in small democracies like ours is increasingly online and located on almost exclusively US-owned platforms. It stands to reason, then, that our politics will at least superficially ape theirs, particularly as more and more younger people get the vote. (I’m not even going to get into the complexities that AI will introduce or its invariable effects on older voters; this post is already too long). While local politics will remain local, I think these culture war skirmishes are going to be unavoidable. They will, however, be fought in our ideological trenches, on our terms, emphasising our prejudices and our injustices. They will not be recognisably American, but the fallout will not be dissimilar to what’s currently going on in the US under Trump, Vance, and that freakshow billionaire (which, by the way, is objectively awful, and it’s not “woke” to recognise that).
What now?
Look, none of this may end up happening. It’s early days and it’s still not impossible that this government will surprise us down the road. In a good way. But I can’t help but be sceptical, given the er… talent involved. What is clear is that their own base — or more accurately, what everyone thinks is their base because the actual number is still probably closer to 3% than it is to 6.8 million — cannot be counted on for patience nor understanding. These guys may be two, three, maximum four major fuckups away from an #AKDgoHome, and I would honestly hate for it come to that, and so should you. Political instability is not good for anyone; certainly not for an economy that’s only just started to breathe again. It’s vital therefore that, whatever your politics, you do not root for the NPP to fail. What we can do, instead, is to put pressure on the government to perform. Actual lives are at stake.
I couldn’t care less if they forget their own manifesto; most of it was wishful thinking anyway. But they do need to get the basics right. For that, bipartisan support is essential, as is a strong opposition that can hold the government to account without sabotaging its every move. Clearly, the SJB in its current form is not the party to do that. If the ongoing talks with the UNP fail, sensible folk from both camps who are liberally inclined must explore other possibilities (*cough* Harsha *cough*). There is also no harm in opening their doors for the right kind of SLPP dissidents. What they absolutely must not do though, in desperation for a win, is throw their lot in with known bad actors. Short of that, however, everything is permissible. If Sri Lanka’s centre-right’s fundamental problem is that they can’t ever get themselves elected, or hold on to power on the rare occasion they are elected, then a little harmless flirtation with populism will not be entirely ill-advised. It may even be healthy because, honestly, populism gets a bad rap. The ultimate objective of politics is, after all, power, and without power all your good intentions are all they will ever be. So use whatever tools are at your disposal sensibly and judiciously and do what you must, within reason.
Such a centre-right mobilisation starting from the ground up will of course take some time, which is another reason why it’s important that the NPP stays put, at least for the next five years. Bad actors are waiting with their mouths open for early signs of discontent, and they’re already liking what they’re tasting. It won’t be long till the fickle bai bloc is ripe for the picking yet again, and if these would-be saviours are allowed to wage their destructive culture war, the nascent centre-right may well give up and go home.
The Aragalaya tends to be associated with leftism because of who came to dominate it (I won’t say ‘hijack’), but there is no denying that it was a triumph of civic consciousness. There is no reason that a liberal, growth-oriented, and, yes, capitalist political formation cannot be the spiritual successor to that historic awakening. If a win for the centre-right is allowed to be robbed by the likes described above, then there really is no hope for this country.
So yeah, let’s make sure it doesn’t come to that.