BY Methmalie Dissanayake
On September 21st, President Anura Kumara Dissanayake—leader of the Marxist-Leninist Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) and the National People’s Power (NPP)—will mark his first year in office. Swept into power on a formidable wave of public demand for systemic change, the anniversary is both a milestone and a moment of reckoning. High expectations are colliding with the harsh realities of an economy still reeling from the 2022 crisis.
This tension is starkly captured by the Anura Meter, a new online tracker which reveals that out of 22 key manifesto pledges, only one has been fully delivered. This has drawn sharp criticism from opponents, who accuse the president of abandoning his campaign promises. “This government is walking the same path as former President Ranil Wickremesinghe,” they charge—a potent accusation, given the historic rivalry between Wickremesinghe’s pro-market United National Party (UNP) and the JVP-led NPP’s platform of social and economic reform.
Much of the criticism is aimed personally at Dissanayake—popularly known as AKD—for continuing the same IMF-backed economic recovery program initiated by Gotabaya Rajapaksa and continued by Wickremesinghe. This is a particularly jarring turn for a leader who once famously declared, “no country in the world has been saved by going to the IMF.”
AKD’s anniversary, therefore, raises a fundamental question: is the gap between political rhetoric and the reality of governance inevitable in Sri Lanka? It’s an opportunity to examine not just what governments deliver, but whether rigid adherence to campaign promises truly serves the public good in a nation grappling with fragility, instability, and economic hardship.
A reality check: The Anura Meter
The Anura Meter, a public initiative by Manthri.lk and Verité Research, tracks 22 of AKD’s most prominent 2024 manifesto commitments. The findings are unsettling for his administration:
- Fully Implemented: 1 promise (an amendment to the PAYE tax system)
- Partially Implemented: Roughly 35%
- Initiated: About 14%
- No Recent Public Updates: Nearly 45%
The most significant structural commitments—abolishing the executive presidency, repealing the Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA), conducting a full public debt audit, and delivering an alternative to the IMF framework—remain stalled.
This lack of progress is compounded by a lack of transparency. Verité Research notes that the government’s uneven reporting makes tracking these promises a difficult task. While symbolic reforms like scrapping certain perks for former presidents have been welcomed, they are no substitute for the deeper constitutional and institutional changes pledged on the campaign trail. For instance, while the government has announced that a draft bill to replace the draconian PTA will be gazetted, there are no updates on amending the controversial Online Safety Act, leaving critical issues like transitional justice and accountability in limbo.
A historical disconnect
Sri Lankan presidents have historically treated election manifestos more as guidelines than as binding contracts. This pattern highlights a deep disconnect between pre-election rhetoric and post-election governance. President Mahinda Rajapaksa’s career-defining achievement—ending the civil war—was notably absent from his 2005 “Mahinda Chintana” manifesto. Likewise, President Chandrika Kumaratunga’s peace efforts were attacked by the opposition for “dividing the country,” showing how political narratives can clash with the complex realities of governing.
History shows that no Sri Lankan president has been strictly confined to their manifesto. Instead, they have consistently made adjustments based on prevailing circumstances.
Historically, the JVP and its NPP alliance built their political identity around their manifesto, setting themselves apart by accusing other parties of failing to present concrete plans. Now, in a twist of irony, the very tool they used to gain power has become a liability. This self-imposed standard is precisely why the administration is subject to intense scrutiny for any deviation from its pledges—far more so than its predecessors.
Narrative over detail: how votes are won
This historical trend is mirrored in public perception. Decades of perceived political deception have taught voters to be pragmatic, if not cynical. Manifestos are often likened to “poetic recitations” at a festival—beautiful words that garner support but are dismantled once their purpose is served.
Voters, in turn, tend to rally around a powerful central theme rather than the intricate details of a policy document.
- Ranasinghe Premadasa’s appeal was empowering the underprivileged.
- Chandrika Kumaratunga promised to end a ‘seventeen-year curse’ in 1994.
- Mahinda Rajapaksa masterfully leveraged a patriotic, war-winning narrative.
- The Yahapalana government led by Maithripala Sirisena came to power promising to catch thieves and restore good governance.
- Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s 2019 victory was built almost entirely on a platform of national security, followed by the situation created after Easter Sunday terror attacks in 2019.
AKD is no different. His core narrative centers on eradicating corruption, punishing those responsible for the economic crisis, bringing back stolen public money by politicians and ensuring it never happens again. Public support for him stems from this central promise, not a detailed study of his manifesto.
AKD’s pragmatism
President Dissanayake’s first year already illustrates the necessity of adapting to the realities of governance. His government’s approach on several key issues demonstrates a pivot from rigid ideology to pragmatic action:
- The promise to repeal the PTA is now being pursued through a replacement bill, suggesting a more nuanced approach to national security.
- The JVP’s historically strong anti-Israel stance has softened into more diplomatic engagement, acknowledging complex international realities.
- The decision to skip the Shanghai Cooperation Organisation (SCO) summit, despite close ties with China, shows that a government must navigate a web of geopolitical interests that can override ideological leanings.
These examples underscore a crucial lesson: governing requires adapting to real-world challenges, which may necessitate deviating from initial pledges. A government’s perspective, particularly on international relations, is fundamentally different from that of a social activist and often demands difficult choices.
The decisive power of the middle-class dream
In Sri Lanka’s fragile economic environment, a leader’s ability to govern for the public good is directly tied to the aspirations of the middle class. Nurtured on dreams of social mobility and prosperity (often dubbed the “Singapore dream”), this demographic expects their government to foster those ambitions.
Failure to meet these expectations can be politically fatal. Mahinda Rajapaksa, despite ending the war, was voted out in 2015 when he was perceived as unable to sustain the middle-class dream. Similarly, the Aragalaya protests against Gotabaya Rajapaksa were fueled by the collapse of these hopes, triggered by prolonged power cuts and economic ruin.
The rise of AKD to power — from just 3% of the total vote in 2019 — was largely driven by his ability to appeal to the middle class. In the lead-up to the 2019 presidential election, he even made significant changes to his appearance, presenting himself in a way that differed from the traditional image of a JVP leader, and continued it for several years. This strategy was carefully designed to resonate with the middle class and soften the JVP’s image, distancing it from its violent past.
This means that for AKD to succeed, his governance must demonstrate that the middle-class dream is, at the very least, being maintained. This may require pausing or adjusting certain manifesto promises if they do not contribute to this critical outcome. The future of his presidency hinges on his ability to manage these expectations. As the largest demographic in Sri Lanka, if middle-class sentiment turns against him, the tide could be unstoppable.
Flexibility
Ultimately, a president’s primary duty is to preserve their power to govern a stable country. This responsibility is even more pronounced when considering the regional context. While Sri Lanka grapples with its economic recovery, it maintains a degree of social stability that has become rare in South Asia at the moment. Several neighboring countries are currently navigating volatile political situations, civil unrest, and internal conflicts. Preserving Sri Lanka’s relative peace is therefore a paramount objective, adding another layer of complexity to the president’s decisions.
In a fragile economy facing massive debt repayments from 2028, Sri Lanka cannot afford political instability. A sudden deviation from the current economic path, however popular on a political stage, could plunge the country back into crisis.
In this complex environment, flexibility is not a weakness but a necessity. It means deviating from pledges, forming new alliances, and making pragmatic decisions that may not align with initial rhetoric. External pressures, from international creditors to trade partners, can force significant policy shifts. Rigidly adhering to a manifesto in the face of such forces would be a political suicide mission.
While AKD’s core anti-corruption narrative remains his anchor, it alone is not enough. He must convince the nation’s largest demographic that their aspirations are safe. The challenge for AKD, and any future leader, is to bridge the gap between aspirational rhetoric and the adaptive, often difficult, realities of effective governance. In Sri Lanka today, the public good is better served by a leader who can adjust their course rather than one who rigidly follows a map drawn in a different time.
Although breaking manifesto promises is not a crime, it raises important questions about transparency and accountability. A leader and a government may deviate from their initial manifesto to some extent — but this should be done in a way that keeps the public informed. This approach could make election manifestos genuinely meaningful documents and protect the integrity of the democratic process.
It is reasonable to allow some flexibility for changing circumstances once power has been won. The government’s counterargument to the criticism is that a manifesto is intended for the entire term — five years — and therefore, not all promises can be fulfilled within the first year in office. However, this places a responsibility on the president and the government to set clear key performance indicators (KPIs) and communicate progress effectively to the public, ensuring transparency and accountability throughout the term.