The Tamil Question in a Changing Sri Lanka: The Limits of Dissanayake’s Leftist Agenda
As Sri Lanka heads toward a significant parliamentary election, the recent presidential victory of Anura Kumara Dissanayake has ignited hopes for political transformation. For the first time, the grassroots Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) and National People’s Power coalition (NPP) have gained a foothold in national leadership by winning over large sections of the Sinhala population, including many former Rajapaksa voters, raising expectations for systemic change.
Dissanayake’s rise and first actions as president marks a significant shift away from the entrenched power of political elites like the Wickremesinghes, the Kumaratungas, and the Rajapaksas, and represents a grassroots movement of lower-middle-class Sinhala voters disillusioned by economic crises and corruption. However, while Dissanayake’s ascent signifies a genuine challenge to the patronage-driven politics of the south, this shift remains deeply embedded in Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism, leaving the crucial Tamil question unresolved.
A failure to engage with the Tamil demands for justice, accountability, and autonomy is not just a moral lapse; it’s a strategic misdiagnosis that will ultimately prevent Dissanayake from realizing the economic and social reforms he envisions, even for the Sinhala south. The massive and economically disastrous militarization of Tamil-speaking regions, unaddressed war crimes, and the state’s ethnonationalist character are inseparable from the island’s broader economic crisis.
Since assuming office, Dissanayake has positioned himself as a leftist reformer, introducing a series of symbolic and practical changes aimed at dismantling Sri Lanka’s entrenched political elite. His announcement of a reduced cabinet and prioritization of anti-corruption measures underscore a commitment to break with the past, appealing to voters who view his presidency as a means of challenging the status quo. These early moves have resonated strongly with the disaffected lower-middle-class Sinhala base, particularly those frustrated with elite corruption, economic decline, and outright crisis under previous administrations.
Yet for decades, the JVP’s platform has combined leftist principles with a nationalistic approach that emphasizes anti-imperialism and Sinhala unity, underscoring Sinhala-Buddhist sentiment and sidelining Tamil autonomy and justice in favor of a more centralized vision of the Sri Lankan state. The result is a form of leftist nationalism that, while challenging elite corruption and advocating for economic reforms, ultimately reinforces the exclusionary aspects of Sri Lankan governance.
The Tamil question in Sri Lanka has deep history, dating back to the colonial era and intensifying after independence in 1948. By the 1970s, systemic discrimination, repeated pogroms, and land colonization gave rise to a Tamil nationalist movement calling for Eelam, an independent Tamil state. The armed conflict that ensued, beginning in 1983, saw immense human rights abuses and ultimately led to the defeat of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam in 2009. However, despite the cessation of active armed conflict, issues of militarization, land dispossession, and enforced disappearances continue to affect Tamil communities. Successive governments have largely actively sidelined Tamil demands for accountability and autonomy, viewing these issues through an ethnonationalist lens that sees any sort of justice as a threat to the Sinhala-Buddhist state.
The JVP’s historical roots lie in anti-elite, anti-imperialist, and anti-establishment mobilizations, which have often conflated Tamil autonomy demands with foreign threats. This tendency emerged in the early 20th century as the Sinhala left aligned its anti-colonial sentiments with a nativist approach the vilified Indian Tamil and South Indian laborers, framing their demands as threats to Sinhala sovereignty. While Dissanayake’s victory signals a departure from the Colombo-based elites, it is not a move toward genuine pluralism or inclusivity for the Tamils in the North-East.
Today, the NPP’s stance on Tamil issues continues to be defined by a rigid adherence to Sinhala-Buddhist unity. Dissanayake and his party have consistently rejected power-sharing with the Tamil-majority North and East, while remaining indifferent to the ongoing militarization of these regions. Their refusal to demilitarize or withdraw the military from civilian spaces – including Buddhist shrines built on Tamil land – further cements the party’s commitment to the Sinhala-Buddhist hegemony.
This continued militarization comes at a significant economic cost. Despite the economic crisis and its fallout, Sri Lanka insists on retaining one of the largest militaries in the world, measured in terms of personnel per capita. The almost exclusively ethnically Sinhalese military is largely stationed in the Tamil-speaking North-East, where it is actively engaged in land dispossession, the construction of Buddhist temples, surveillance, and repression. This militarization simultaneously diverts resources away from civilian development and denies Tamils the autonomy they demand over their land and governance. The persistent focus on military expenditure undermines the prospects for long-term peace and prosperity, ensuring that the economic crisis deepens while the Tamil question remains unresolved.
Moreover, the JVP’s position against the 2000s peace process remains a defining marker of this exclusionary stance. The opposition to the peace process and rejection of post-tsunami aid-sharing with Tamil regions illustrate the JVP’s tendency to view the Tamil issue solely through a Sinhala-nationalist lens. By positioning Tamil autonomy as a concession to Western imperialism, the intrinsic legitimacy of Tamil demands for justice and accountability is overlooked.
Dissanayake’s administration has repeatedly undermined calls for justice and rejected international pressure for accountability, including his opposition to the recent United Nations Human Rights Council resolution, coupled with the appointment of accused war criminals to key positions in government. This approach reflects a continuation of state policies that prioritize Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy over a genuine commitment to human rights and equitable governance. The party’s refusal to acknowledge the Tamil genocide and its ongoing attempts to silence Tamil voices – whether through the Prevention of Terrorism Act or the refusal to address issues of land rights and disappearances – highlight that the NPP’s leftist reform agenda remains incomplete without a radical break from the entrenched Sinhala-Buddhist nationalism that shapes its politics.
Despite the initial optimism surrounding the new presidency, Dissanayake’s and his administration’s failure to address the Tamil question reveals the limitations of his political vision. In failing to engage, Dissanayake’s administration will remain mired in the same majoritarian politics that characterized the regimes he claims to oppose.
Contrary to the unity-focused rhetoric that the party espouses, Dissanayake has consistently reassured the Sinhala-Buddhist establishment of his commitment to upholding their privileged status. While addressing over 1,500 monks in Maharagama, he provided “assurances” to the Sangha that Article 9 of the Constitution, which gives Buddhism the “foremost place” in Sri Lanka, would remain untouched. In September, another coalition member promised that the NPP would not only protect Article 9, but also “nurture and nourish Buddhism, as this is obviously a majority Sinhala Buddhist country.”
The NPP’s commitment to protecting Buddhism’s constitutional dominance reflects the ruling coalition’s unwillingness to shift from an ethnonationalist foundation that continues to marginalize Tamil communities and their claims for self-determination. Instead of questioning the hierarchy that Sinhala-Buddhist supremacy creates, the NPP is entrenching it further, reinforcing a vision of Sri Lanka where the state’s legitimacy and unity are inherently tied to a Sinhala-Buddhist identity.
Anti-corruption initiatives, intended to foster accountability and break from past cronyism, are ultimately incompatible with this logic of an ethnostate, where the protection of Sinhala-Buddhist dominance overrides inclusive, transparent governance. The ethnonationalist focus ensures that expenditures, such as the excessive militarization, are protected rather than scrutinized, as they’re framed as necessary for “national security” rather than acknowledged as a part of a broader pattern of exclusion and control. Consequently, while the new administration may attempt to reduce ministerial excess and reclaim state assets, these efforts remain surface-level fixes to a deeper systemic issue.
Without addressing this foundational issue, anti-corruption reforms will ultimately fall short, as the structural advantages accorded to the Sinhala-Buddhist majority inherently perpetuate unequal resource allocation and unaccountable governance. By refusing to critically engage with majoritarianism, the current administration risks merely reshaping the Sinhala-Buddhist structures that lie at the root of Sri Lanka’s problems rather than dismantling them.
As the country looks toward the parliamentary elections, Sri Lankans are faced with an opportunity to critically assess what Dissanayake’s leftist revival truly entails. For the JVP-NPP coalition to distinguish itself from the corrupt regimes it critiques, it would need to demonstrate a genuine break from the Sinhala-Buddhist history that has defined Sri Lankan politics. However, while Dissanayake poses a genuine threat to the traditional Sinhala elite, his unwillingness to confront Sinhala-Buddhist majoritarianism ensures the continuity of Sri Lanka’s exclusionary political structure.
As long as Tamil demands for justice and autonomy remain silenced, Sri Lanka’s leftist revival will be incomplete, reinforcing instead of dismantling the ethnonationalist state that the JVP has historically upheld. Dissanayake’s inability to break with the nationalist framework, especially in relation to the Tamil question, exposes the limits of his political project, making it just another chapter in Sri Lanka’s violent and unstable ethnonationalist history.
