By Rusiripala Tennakoon –

Rusiripala Tennakoon

The government has now completed one year in office. Throughout this period, its public discourse has been dominated by a monotonous harangue of blaming the past. While this narrative may help sustain the morale of those who brought the administration to power—driven by their dissatisfaction with previous regimes—it has also confined the government’s operational momentum to a single, backward-looking theme. Such fixation risks exposing a glaring vacuum in progress across vital areas where citizens, both supporters and independent observers alike, had placed their hopes.

People are now beginning to feel the harsh realities of inflationary trends, shortages of essentials, and the unbearable competitive pressures faced by local producers. There is growing anxiety over the lack of meaningful initiatives to generate employment, particularly among the undereducated and rural youth. Meanwhile, the elite and educated sections express deep concern over the sluggish economy, the absence of coherent development programs, and the government’s apparent reliance on short-term, revenue-raising measures.

Simultaneously, unease is mounting over macro-level policy drift—especially regarding geopolitical balance and the maintenance of Sri Lanka’s traditional stance of independence and non-alignment. The government shows little sign of a convincing orientation toward these matters, resulting in an atmosphere of uncertainty and hopelessness among all but its most ardent loyalists.

In this environment, many government actions appear less as purposeful reform and more as an ongoing struggle for survival—marked by procrastination, distraction, and diversionary tactics. Such manoeuvres have begun to be seen as mere “red herrings,” designed to mark time rather than inspire progress.

The public is weary of the endless cycle of blame directed at the past, coupled with repeated efforts to revive unsubstantiated accusations against former regimes. Ironically, many government spokesmen now find themselves ensnared by their own words—echoing criticisms they once hurled at predecessors while sitting in opposition.

All these developments have collectively fostered a pervasive sense of despair and disbelief. A growing number of citizens now feel that improvement is unlikely, that change is beyond reach, and that the future offers little comfort beyond disappointment.

The Cost of Continuous Blame

The politics of blame has become the preferred refuge of those who have run out of ideas. It is easier to condemn the past than to construct the future; easier to recite the failures of others than to admit one’s own limitations. This pattern has now become institutionalised—every ministry, every press briefing, every policy statement begins with a lament about what went wrong before, as if that lament itself were a solution.

In the process, the government has drained its administrative energy into a campaign of justification rather than reform. The machinery of the State, instead of moving forward with purpose, spends its time defending the record of the present against the shadows of the past. Civil servants hesitate to act decisively, fearing that today’s decision may become tomorrow’s accusation. The culture of responsibility has quietly given way to a culture of self-protection.

The consequence is paralysis. Files move slowly, projects remain half-executed, and policy debates circle endlessly without conclusion. Investors, both local and foreign, read these signs of hesitation as uncertainty—and uncertainty is the enemy of confidence. The cost is not merely economic; it is psychological. When leaders appear preoccupied with explaining why they cannot deliver, the people lose faith that they ever will.

Moreover, continuous blame corrodes the moral standing of those who wield it. The public begins to notice the widening gap between words and performance, between indictment and achievement. The same politicians who once promised accountability now appear addicted to evasion. With every new accusation against the past, they quietly remind the public of their own inability to transcend it.

Ultimately, a government that governs through blame is one that admits defeat in the battlefield of ideas. It confesses that it has no vision powerful enough to replace the narrative it denounces. This is the true cost of continuous blame: the slow erosion of credibility, the decay of initiative, and the death of inspiration.

Governance Without Direction

Governance, at its core, is the art of choosing priorities and pursuing them with consistency. What the country has witnessed over the past year, however, is a government drifting without a compass—advancing one day, retreating the next, and constantly shifting the narrative to suit the moment. The result is a series of half-measures that neither inspire confidence nor deliver relief.

At the economic front, policies appear reactive rather than strategic. Tax revisions are announced, withdrawn, and re-announced in altered form. Import restrictions fluctuate according to revenue pressure rather than production needs. These inconsistencies have disoriented local entrepreneurs and frightened away potential investors who seek stability more than slogans.

Institutional coordination is equally fragile. Ministries work in isolation, issuing overlapping or contradictory directives. State agencies act like competing islands instead of components of a single structure. Such disarray has reduced governance to a patchwork of unconnected decisions, each made for survival rather than progress.

Public confidence, already fragile, has suffered further as the gap widens between promise and performance. Announcements of “national programs” are frequent, but follow-through is rare. Even well-intentioned initiatives collapse under the weight of bureaucracy and indecision. What is presented as reform too often becomes routine paperwork.

In the absence of a coherent direction, the government has resorted to symbolism—grand ceremonies, new committees, and periodic reshuffles—to create the illusion of movement. But ceremony is not strategy, and reshuffling cannot substitute for results. The people, though patient, are not blind; they see the noise but not the progress.

True governance demands a vision that unites, not a patchwork that distracts. It demands leaders who can set measurable goals, mobilise expertise, and communicate with clarity. Without such discipline, even a well-meaning administration drifts like a vessel without a rudder—carried by currents, not by course.

The Erosion of Public Hope

The most visible consequence of this drift is the slow but steady erosion of public hope. When a government operates without a clear policy framework, confusion seeps into every corner of administration. The nation is witnessing this in real time: pronouncements on taxation, electricity tariffs, fuel pricing, and even basic sectors like vegetable and paddy production reveal a leadership that is both unsure of direction and unaware of ground realities. Each announcement contradicts the previous one; each correction deepens the sense of uncertainty.

What is more alarming is the absence of intellectual depth within the ranks of decision-makers. The appointment of ministers, state ministers, and departmental heads who lack both exposure and background knowledge has turned governance into a classroom without a teacher. When such individuals attempt to justify or defend their baseless pronouncements, they only multiply the embarrassment and deepen the crisis of credibility.

This confusion is not merely administrative; it is systemic. The vacuum in knowledge and information has become a national liability. Policies are drafted without data, decisions are made without debate, and strategies are announced without study. In such a setting, the responsibility of restoring direction falls upon those who do possess experience, expertise, and integrity.

What the country now needs is a collective of credible minds—economists, technocrats, academics, professionals, and retired public servants—who can fill this vacuum. They should come together in subject-wise formations, hold public forums, and explain to the nation the true picture: what is happening, what is likely to happen, and what must be done.

Such an initiative, free from political allegiance, will serve multiple purposes. It will educate the public, expose false narratives, and most importantly, guide the rulers who seem to be groping in the dark. When the corridors of power lack wisdom, the wellsprings of national intellect must rise to illuminate them.

I therefore call upon those who are capable, informed, and committed to the nation’s future to begin this process—not for power, but for purpose; not for politics, but for the preservation of our country’s stability and dignity.

A Call for Reorientation

The time has come for the government to rise above the comfort of excuses and rediscover the discipline of purpose. One year in office is long enough to diagnose the nation’s ailments; the next must be devoted to curing them. The path forward cannot be paved with blame, confusion, and rhetoric. It must be guided by clarity, competence, and courage.

Leadership is not about finding fault; it is about finding solutions. Every administration inherits challenges—some deep-rooted, some newly born—but history remembers only those who dared to confront them. The nation now stands at a juncture where hesitation will cost more than mistakes, and silence will wound more than criticism.

The government must, therefore, reorient its priorities—from justification to action, from slogans to substance, from self-defence to nation-building. This requires humility to listen, wisdom to consult, and strength to implement. The wealth of knowledge scattered across this country—in its universities, institutions, and among retired experts—must be drawn upon before decisions are made, not after disasters occur.

Equally, the people must shed the helplessness of spectators and reclaim their rightful role as active citizens. National recovery cannot be outsourced to politicians alone. The voices of experience, professionalism, and conscience must join hands to rebuild what complacency has broken.

If the government continues to move as a caravan without direction, history will record it as one that travelled far but arrived nowhere. But if it pauses, reflects, and chooses a meaningful course, it can still redeem its purpose and the people’s trust.

It is not too late—but time is no longer on our side. The moment demands action, wisdom, and above all, honesty. The nation waits not for blame, but for vision; not for promises, but for proof that leadership still means service.