By Vishwamithra –

“It’s not what you look at that matters, it’s what you see” ~ Henry David Thoreau

The National People’s Power (NPP) and its leadership, headed by Anura Kumara Dissanayake, painted an immaculate and flawless picture on the election platform. Fatigued by the successive failures of previous governments, the people chose to believe them. However, that flawless, immaculate picture is now beginning to show some hints of weakness; the glorious painting is not all that divine. Its obvious follies are not inherent in the personalities of the party; nor have they been carried over by an external factor. Instead, the flaws seem to be dwelling inside the very system that the NPP professed to change, but has not yet managed to do so.

The fundamental flaw in any system can be traced to many factors; however, the individuals who occupy government offices matter far more than we often realize. Political theorists and designers of states frequently treat institutions as self-sustaining machines, operating on rigid rules and structural checks. Yet, a system is only as resilient as the human beings who run it. When those in power lack competence, integrity, or respect for the rule of law, the most meticulously crafted constitutional frameworks can collapse from within. Ultimately, human agency remains the ultimate variable in governance, transforming paper ideals into either functional societies or failed states.

Historically, this vulnerability has repeatedly exposed the limits of institutional design. The collapse of the Roman Republic serves as a premier example: its complex system of checks, balances, and shared power functioned for centuries, yet it was ultimately dismantled by the personal ambitions of individuals like Julius Caesar who prioritized personal power over constitutional norms. Similarly, the structural integrity of pre-WW 2 European diplomacy was completely undermined not by a lack of treaties, but by the miscalculations and appeasement strategies of specific leaders who failed to grasp the geopolitical reality of their era. In both cases, the machinery of governance was helpless against the flaws of its operators.

We see this exact dynamic mirrored in modern politics, where human choices continue to override systemic design. The starkly divergent national responses to the COVID-19 pandemic demonstrated that identical bureaucratic and public health frameworks yielded wildly different outcomes based entirely on the communication styles, decisiveness, and political will of individual leaders. Furthermore, the modern decay of public trust in democratic institutions rarely stems from flawed founding documents; rather, it is driven by contemporary politicians who weaponize polarization for short-term gain. When the occupants of high office prioritize self-preservation over institutional stewardship, the system does not just fail—it is actively dismantled by the very hands meant to uphold it.

The same sociopolitical dynamics govern the current environment that surrounds the Sri Lankan government headed by the NPP. Having been bequeathed a system that may be flawed in some specific areas and manned by avaricious bureaucrats who depend on their fidelity to even more venal politicians, the present administration has, willy-nilly, come to terms with the very system it must use as a vehicle to deliver results for the common man and woman.

The real conundrum the government finds itself in is not a new phenomenon; its origins are not, in real terms, recent either. Democratically elected governments have had to grapple with this recurring issue, much to their dismay and to the utter pleasure of the opposition. The real problem resides in their experience, or lack thereof, in handling such parliamentary and presidential matters.

I may appear to have touched a nerve that both AKD and the NPP would prefer to disregard. Given its sensitive nature, this subject represents a recurring irritant, or perhaps more accurately, a nagging political issue. But AKD and the leadership of the NPP must realize the most elementary factor that decides the validity and legitimacy of good political leadership: leaders are judged in times of crisis. During peacetime, even a mediocre leader may survive simply because there are no immediate factors threatening their hold on power. In times of crisis, however, even the greatest leaders face a real-time verdict.

The fabric that they wove around their own legitimacy, validity, and purity must survive the harsh and pressing tensions of the various sociopolitical and economic threads that hold it together. Unlike in the past, current social tensions are subjected to minute-by-minute scrutiny by social media, amplifying the brutal stresses and anxieties caused by its very presence. Anura Kumara Dissanayake and his administration do not have the luxury of complacency. They cannot afford it. While their displaced rivals plot comebacks in five-star hotel lobbies—wined and dined by corporate oligarchs to the tune of millions—the NPP government faces a far grittier reality. To survive, NPP leaders must reject the intoxicating trap of elite politics. Instead, they must chain themselves to the unglamorous, exhausting warfare of fixing the everyday crises choking ordinary citizens in every forgotten corner of this country.

In other words, the government simply cannot afford to display any tears in the fabric they so painstakingly wove during the election. Even if such fissures do appear, they must be in a position to frame them as natural and unavoidable, rather than as a reflection of specific personalities. They set a very high bar for themselves; the image they projected was too smooth and cozy; the very personalities voters identified with were seemingly beyond question. In such challenging circumstances, the electorate is becoming increasingly demanding and impatient.

Minister Lal Kantha was one character the electorate used to identify with chaos and indiscipline. Yet he has become a personality of calm and strategy. His approach to agriculture and plantations is calculated and strategic, quite contrary to his past roles and the intense activism of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP), linking him to disruptive mass movements. Since taking over, his approach as the Minister of Agriculture, Livestock, Lands, and Irrigation has been very structured. He has taken a highly hands-on, accessible approach to governance, including inviting citizens to raise ministry-level issues directly with him.

On the other hand, the optics around Prime Minister Harini Amarasuriya was greatly exaggerated and as a result much was expected of her. But the people have begun to question her abilities and capacities. As the first female Prime Minister since 2000 and the first from an academic and activist background, expectations for systemic, rapid change were very high. The transition from being an academic and opposition MP to managing the heavy machinery of the state—especially in education and higher education—is inherently difficult. It is a common critique that the sheer weight of these initial expectations has led to growing scrutiny and questions from the public regarding the capacity to deliver on complex governance issues.

Fissures and holes have become apparent where such were not expected to appear at the beginning of the NPP government. Many other Ministers and Junior Ministers may also be among those corrupted along the way. In politics, corruption is a given passage through which almost every practitioner has to travel, emerging either stained or unstained, strictly according to the beholder of events.

Corruption apart, governance miscalculations, the failure to anticipate obvious natural events (such as severe floods), and the non-accomplishment of election promises would ultimately come into play at the next elections. Yet, the undisputed mediocrity of the current opposition and its leadership will certainly help the NPP navigate even the stormiest of waters, regardless of the relative political inexperience of their bedfellows.

Temporary patchwork will not fix the problem. A semi-permanent revolving task force dedicated to auditing the entirety of government work—a politically neutral study group, well-equipped both intellectually and materially—might be a way out. However, without total commitment to incorrupt governance and efficient implementation from top to bottom, this task force will only serve as a tool for the smoother operation of statecraft, rather than solving the root issues.

While contemporary political proposals often look toward formalized ‘Super-Ministries’ or statutory ‘Economic Delivery Units’ to drive development, they echo the functional logic of the JR Jayewardene era. The ‘Development Secretaries Meeting’ proved that informal, executive-backed coordination can bypass bureaucratic inertia. However, unlike today’s proposals—which must navigate complex legal challenges, judicial reviews, and global financial compliance—the historical model relied on raw executive dominance to fast-track national infrastructure.

While Jayewardene’s ‘Development Secretaries Meeting’ prioritized centralized, executive-led execution to bypass red tape, contemporary governance proposals focus on formalized legislative oversight—such as Sectoral Oversight Committees—shifting the national priority from raw infrastructural speed to structural transparency and anti-corruption compliance.

AKD and his brains-trust must find an equilibrium between the pace of development and the guardrails necessary to prevent corruption, while avoiding excessive bureaucratic red tape. A nuanced examination of government initiatives and their broader historical and philosophical contexts exposes the intricate issues that ruling parties must navigate. Pursuing policy based solely on ideological grounds inevitably leads to systemic failure, reminiscent of how Sirimavo Bandaranaike managed the Sri Lankan state and economy. Such an approach yields universally detrimental outcomes.

*The writer can be reached at vishwamithra1984@gmail.com