Sri Lanka’s opposition is trapped in a political loop, three camps parroting the same IMF-friendly script, echoing Ranil’s failed legacy, and pretending to be different while marching in the same tired direction.
Harsha says the government will do what Harshala says. There is no real disagreement in this case, and that is the fundamental problem with Sri Lanka’s opposition. Since there is no principled division, no matter who emerges from these two or three groups, no matter who takes over power, the path remains unchanged.
The same path. The same principle. The same medicine. The same recipe. The same remedy. The same doctor. Yet the patient is not getting better. The nation remains sick, and what is desperately needed is a way out of this recycled remedy.
Now Harsha claims, “You are going entirely as we said.” “This is not what you said before. However, you are now following the path we prescribed. Now we are happy. We congratulate you.”
That is Harsha’s smug declaration. When you say this, there is no need for an opposition party at all. Let the government do exactly as it is. If the same path was correct, they could have just let Ranil continue with it. That is exactly what it looks like today.
And then, no one will believe that replacing these politicians matters. If all are doing the same thing, why bring in new faces? The patient remains with the same sickness, only under a different doctor’s name.
What the nation needs is a camp with a different political programme.
The best mocking line after Anura became president came from Wimal, who gleefully highlighted that the opposition was cheering a government walking the exact path they once condemned.
Today, Sri Lanka’s opposition is divided into three parts. The main opposition is the Samagi Jana Balavegaya (SJB). Then there is Namal’s Podujana Peramuna (SLPP). Finally, the remnants of the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) and the United National Party (UNP). Among these, the SJB and UNP have perfected the art of claiming ownership over government policies.
If education reforms are introduced, SJB and UNP are likely to shout:
“These are the reforms Ranil brought 40 years ago. The JVP opposed them then, but today they support them. This is our victory. The reforms we pushed decades ago are now implemented. We wish them well.”
This is the story SJB and UNP spin about Harini’s education reforms.
And about IMF conditionalities? Their script is even worse:
“We were the first to push for IMF support. The JVP always opposed the IMF. Now they follow our path. We congratulate the JVP for finally waking up.”
This is the kind of self-congratulation that defines today’s opposition.
Even on postal workers’ fingerprint policy, they play the same game. Minister Nalinda announces the measure and SJB-UNP echo:
“We also proposed the same thing. We support it. When we suggested it, the JVP went on strike. We are pleased they now accept our policies.”
Anura has now been president for almost a year. The people are exhausted from the same speeches. What they don’t need is an opposition clapping from the sidelines and saying, “We are happy because the government is following our path.”
What the country requires is an opposition that declares: “The government is wrong. We are right.”
The absence of such an opposition is glaring. Even Mahinda, once the face of resistance against the IMF, is silent. The SLFP and SLPP, once defenders of strikes, no longer protest. They have been absorbed into Ranil’s political machine, endorsing what they once fought.
The JVP today insists it played the role of opposition then and will play the role of government now. Their argument carries weight. Because an opposition that celebrates being copied is not opposition, it is complicity.
J.R. once said to gain power, a party must transform itself, just as a camel must contort to pass through the eye of a needle. But today’s politicians ignore this wisdom. Instead, they recycle the same storylines.
When Bandaranaike signed the Bandaranaike-Chelvanayakam pact, he didn’t say, “This is our policy, and the government is finally following it.” He took to the streets, carrying symbols of Sinhala Buddhist pride, showing defiance. That is what opposition looked like.
In 2000, Chandrika brought forward a peace package. Ranil, instead of claiming ownership, burned it in Parliament. In 2002, when Ranil called for a ceasefire with the LTTE, Chandrika accused him of betrayal. Even Kadirgamar labeled Norway’s involvement a betrayal. They didn’t clap and say, “This is what we wanted.” They fought.
That fighting spirit is gone. Now, they only cheer.
By repeating Ranil’s narratives, today’s opposition undermines its own credibility. The constant echo chamber invalidates their politics and reveals their weakness.
What the country needs is different. The people are crying out for leadership that says:
“We reject IMF directives. The IMF is not the only solution to Sri Lanka’s problems. We have an alternative programme.”
“Ranil’s education reforms are unsuitable for today. We need reforms by actual education experts, not outdated committees recycled by Ranil and Gota.”
“We need an opposition that engages with trade unions. Trade unions are vital to protect workers’ rights.”
The nation is desperate for an opposition willing to stand tall, voice dissent, and create a new vision. The question that hangs over Sri Lanka’s politics now is this:
“Who will build that opposition? He will be the next president.”
