A former parliamentary Speaker breaks his silence to reveal the terrifying inside story of Sri Lanka’s Aragalaya crisis—the refused pleas, the hidden mace, and the moment democracy nearly died.
The former Speaker of Sri Lanka’s Parliament, Mahinda Yapa Abeywardena, has revealed a shocking account of the political chaos during the Aragalaya uprising. He describes a state in total collapse, where President Gotabaya Rajapaksa pleaded with senior figures to take charge. One by one, he says, former presidents and prime ministers refused. Even Ranil Wickremesinghe initially declined. The Speaker recalls warning Wickremesinghe they would both “witness the destruction of the country” if he didn’t act. The following day, Wickremesinghe agreed, patting the Speaker on the back and accepting the dire task of leading a nation without a functional Cabinet.
The economic crisis reached a critical point when a gas tanker carrying desperately needed fuel arrived but required a $20 million payment to unload. The government had no legal mechanism to authorize the payment. The Speaker was asked to find a solution, but convening Parliament was nearly impossible. At a tense party leaders’ meeting, most acknowledged the urgency, understanding that “without gas, ordinary people would die.” Yet, there was no legal way to unload the ship, authorize payment, or sign documents. The Speaker believed any unauthorized step would land him in prison. He recalls with regret how Ranil Wickremesinghe spoke sharply to the Prime Minister, insisting they would “manage somehow.” Minority party representatives opposed the move, which the Speaker saw as an attempt to aggravate the chaos rather than solve the national crisis.
Political pressure intensified as some leaders insisted the Speaker form a government including protest movement figures. He refused, arguing he “could not step even a single letter outside the Constitution.” Meanwhile, his official residence was surrounded by nearly 100,000 protesters openly threatening to kill him. He instructed staff to open gates if protesters stormed the premises, directing they be arrested and released to avoid escalation. He sent his family downstairs for safety, certain his house would be burned if he stepped outside. Later, at Parliament, his first action was to order the sergeant-at-arms to hide the parliamentary mace, symbolizing the institution’s authority and sovereignty. He believed its destruction would have been catastrophic for Sri Lanka’s democracy.
As violence escalated, leaders moved to army headquarters where Wickremesinghe monitored events on large screens. The Speaker hints at an undisclosed incident there. At a crucial evening meeting with senior military commanders and the police chief, news arrived that the first security barrier around Parliament had been breached. When commanders said they had no orders to act, the Speaker reminded them their uniforms and oaths pledged them to safeguard the nation’s institutions. He insisted they didn’t need instructions to fulfill that duty during a national crisis. Though the commanders left to take action, the Speaker admits he doesn’t know what they ultimately did, believing they barely managed to protect Sri Lanka’s parliamentary democracy from destruction.
Throughout the crisis, some urged the Speaker to seize power himself, but he rejected this as dangerous and destabilizing. Even President Rajapaksa’s departure became entangled in political obstruction when an airport trade union refused to let him leave. The Speaker had to call a party leader to resolve the matter, explaining the crisis began precisely because Gotabaya couldn’t leave peacefully. Reflecting on the entire Aragalaya period, he calls it “a great disgrace to Sri Lanka.” Yet he praises Wickremesinghe’s calm determination, noting that while other leaders were paralyzed by fear, Wickremesinghe arrived at his office daily at 7 AM, contacted world leaders personally, and worked urgently to restore fuel supplies. For this crisis leadership during Sri Lanka’s economic collapse, the Speaker insists Wickremesinghe deserves recognition. Despite everything, he’s proud of his role in preventing national collapse, warning the alternative could have been more tragedies like the MP killed during the unrest someone he had personally warned not to travel that day.
