In the ongoing storm of political debate and national elections, a crucial question gets buried under party slogans and power plays: What, exactly, are local elections supposed to be for?
The phrase “can’t see the forest for the trees” comes to mind. Originally penned by 16th-century English writer John Heywood, the idiom means failing to grasp the bigger picture because of being too focused on the details. But in Sri Lanka’s political landscape, the reverse may be true we’re so obsessed with the forest that we’ve forgotten the trees altogether.
Local government elections are supposed to be about precisely that local issues. Grassroots representation. Who can fix the potholes, ensure clean water, or streamline waste management not who has the best foreign policy or grand economic blueprint. Yet time and again, these elections are hijacked as proxy wars for national parties. They’ve become referendums on whoever is in power, turning local governance into a side-show in a larger political theatre.
Without strong local councils, the national tree is barren even if the forest looks green. A healthy democracy demands empowered local governments that represent real people, not party machinery. But the problem runs deeper.
Many believe we’ve got the structure backwards: perhaps local elections should come before national elections, not after. A bottom-up approach, rooted in real people’s needs, might finally displace the decades-old top-down system that has failed to deliver. National issues like foreign policy or infrastructure dominate headlines, but what about street-level issues like markets, transport, or schools?
In the most recent local elections on May 6, the ruling National People’s Power (NPP) party faced a significant drop in voter turnout only around 60%, compared to nearly 80% in the presidential vote. Analysts cite voter fatigue and disillusionment. Many NPP supporters expected tangible results following the party’s national triumphs but found little delivered. Even those who didn’t vote voiced a silent protest: What’s the point, they ask, if local councils are just extensions of national parties?
Therein lies the paradox. Local elections should not be won based on national popularity. A party’s performance in general elections should not give them a free pass at the grassroots level. Instead, voters should choose councillors based on their track records in towns and villages, their local knowledge, and their ability to address community concerns.
The May 6 results where many councils were forced into coalition may actually be a blessing. For once, there’s diversity. There’s bargaining. There’s the possibility of real democracy where governance is not dictated by one party’s will but shaped by compromise and representation.
But this window will slam shut if opposition parties treat local councils as weapons to sabotage the NPP’s national agenda. If councils become platforms for political vendettas instead of people’s progress, Sri Lanka will slide further from reform.
What’s needed is a new playbook. One that strips national political labels off local candidates and focuses instead on independents with integrity, or at least locally committed leaders with a proven record of service. Local governance should be operational, not ideological. Real leadership at this level isn’t about slogans it’s about delivery.
If we can minimize partisan divides and embrace local coalitions, Sri Lanka might just crack the code for truly participative governance. The challenge is to reject “party-first” politics and instead nurture a system that listens, adapts, and uplifts from the ground up.
It’s time to think differently. If people at the grassroots voters, activists, local leaders act independently of national party dictates, they can bring balance to national policy, not with loud protests, but with smart, grounded action.
Imagine a system where the best ideas from local councils bubble up to shape national conversations. Imagine manifestos born out of community plans, not central party war rooms. Imagine accountability that runs both ways.
That’s how we kill the “No Action, Talk Only” culture that has long plagued Sri Lankan politics.
To get there, local government must be held to the highest standards. Legislated accountability, mandatory audits, and strict consequences for corruption are non-negotiables. Waste, bribery, and abuse have plagued councils for too long. The people finance these institutions they deserve transparency and results.
And what of the provincial councils, those nebulous bodies that are neither fully national nor truly local? Born from the Indo-Lanka Accord to appease Tamil separatists, they now function as bureaucratic middlemen with overlapping responsibilities and little direction. Their role needs urgent clarity: are they the wood, the trees or just dead leaves?
The NPP’s push for a new Constitution might be the perfect opportunity to ask that question. If taken seriously, this moment could mark a historic rebalancing of power not just between parties, but between people and their government.
The real question isn’t who wins the next election. It’s whether we finally build a system where local power means real power.
