In the wake of the 2019 Easter Sunday attacks, Sri Lanka has grappled with many uncomfortable questions, but perhaps none more troubling than the posturing of those who have risen to prominence in its aftermath. Chief among them is Asanga Abeyagoonasekera—a self-styled national security expert whose journey through the upper echelons of policy circles reveals less about security acumen and more about opportunism, political patronage, and bureaucratic theatre.
Abeyagoonasekera has recently re-entered the public spotlight with a bold claim: that he received Indian intelligence three weeks before the Easter attacks and that this intelligence aligned with his earlier predictions. The implication? That he was right all along. The real question, however, is not why this alleged forewarning was ignored—but why, if true, he has not faced criminal consequences for failing to act.
The story broke when a Catholic priest, speaking on national media, raised unsettling questions about the think tanks operating in Colombo and their links—overt or covert—to those behind the Easter bombings. At the heart of this narrative is Abeyagoonasekera, whose rise was not forged through battlefield experience or strategic brilliance, but through proximity to power. His appointments to key national institutions—from the Lakshman Kadirgamar Institute to the Institute of National Security Studies—were widely viewed as political handouts, not meritocratic recognitions.
Despite having no depth in counter-terrorism, no academic rigour, and no operational experience, Abeyagoonasekera was tasked with shaping Sri Lanka’s national security framework. His contributions were often vague, speculative, and designed more for media appearances than serious policy work. His “Monthly Threat Forecast”—a 13-page document waved about on TV after the 2019 attacks—was a post-factum rationalisation, a classic opportunist’s tool.
Letters dating back to 2017 from then-Chief of National Intelligence Sisira Mendis had already warned Abeyagoonasekera’s institution about growing extremist ideologies in the Eastern Province. No action was taken. No research, no policy brief, no public alert. Silence followed a clear alarm.
In a recent letter to President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, dated April 2025, Abeyagoonasekera seeks reinstatement, framing himself as a misunderstood patriot wronged by political tides. He laments an “unexplained” transfer and claims he was offered a diplomatic post in Berlin—one he supposedly declined, though records suggest his request was rejected due to unprofessional conduct and lack of administrative tact. Repeated SMS pleas to then-President Gotabaya Rajapaksa reportedly went unanswered.
His claim of receiving Indian intelligence on April 4, 2019—a full three weeks before the attacks—is damning. If true, it establishes foreknowledge without action, which by any reasonable measure, amounts to gross negligence. The Supreme Court has already found the former president, defence secretary, IGP, and intelligence chief guilty of dereliction. Why then has Abeyagoonasekera escaped scrutiny?
There’s a deeper malaise beneath the headlines. Sri Lanka’s political institutions have too often elevated those who project power without embodying virtue. As Plato’s Republic warned, those who seek influence without wisdom endanger the state. Abeyagoonasekera’s ascent displaced qualified officers and injected spectacle into policy. He bypassed protocol, mishandled foreign relations, and turned state service into personal stagecraft.
His recent appeals to transparency and reform are laced with irony. In one breath, he pleads for a second chance; in another, he positions himself as a saviour. But those who truly serve do not need to remind us of it on every platform. His is not the story of a silenced prophet. It is the story of a man who failed to act when it mattered most—who watched, waited, and emerged from the rubble not with remorse, but with a résumé.
To those who still grieve the loss of Easter Sunday, his attempts to rebrand himself are not only offensive—they are dangerous. A society that allows such figures to drift through institutions unpunished, or even rewarded, will find itself ruled by those who shout the loudest, not those who serve best.
Let it be said plainly: Asanga Abeyagoonasekera is not a misunderstood patriot. He is a product and a perpetuator of the very dysfunction he now claims to critique. He must not be rehabilitated; he must be held to account.
To the priest who lifted the veil—do not be swayed by carefully crafted myths or repackaged credentials. Truth and justice lie not in performance, but in action. And the time for action is now.
