-By Political Editor
(Lanka-e-News -17.April.2025, 11.10 PM) In Sri Lanka’s ever-theatrical political stage, where the line between diplomacy and delusion is often blurred by leftover arrack fumes and third-hand gossip, Dr. Dayan Jayatilleka has emerged once again—glass in one hand, theory in the other—to proclaim the arrival of Indian-funded defence factories on Lankan soil.
A seasoned diplomat, a self-styled intellectual, a former Marxist, a sometime nationalist, a cocktail connoisseur, and an all-weather political shape-shifter—Dayan Jayatilleka’s latest revelation comes not from classified cables or state intelligence, but apparently from his own imagination, or perhaps from an overindulgent conversation over wine with an old buddy from Delhi.
According to Dr. Dayan, India—yes, the India of Narendra Modi—is set to build defence factories in Sri Lanka. Missiles? Helicopters? Guns? Grenades disguised as Ceylon tea bags? Perhaps even submarines in Diyawanna Oya? Dayan doesn’t say.
What he does say, however, is enough to spark outrage, confusion, and satire in equal measure.
At a recent seminar attended by a handful of aging Cold War theorists and over-ambitious postgraduate students, Dr. Dayan declared that India had agreed to set up defence manufacturing units in Sri Lanka. No documentation. No MoU. No official Indian press release. Just the good doctor and his eternal belief that a dramatic assertion is worth more than a verified fact.
“It’s a strategic development, an Indian footprint in our defence sector, a reality of regional geopolitics,” he said, swirling his glass like a Bond villain before a monologue.
But here’s the issue: no one else—neither the Indian High Commission nor the Sri Lankan Ministry of Defence—has confirmed any such agreement. The only thing more invisible than the factories are the footnotes in Dayan’s speech.
Let’s pause for a moment to ask the obvious: What kind of "Dr." is Dr. Dayan Jayatilleka? Surely not a physician, unless the medicine is poured from a Bordeaux bottle. A PhD, perhaps—but in what? Marxist theory? Global confusion? Intellectual opportunism?
He once taught political science. He once aligned with ultra-left movements. Then he morphed into a nationalist hawk, before becoming a UN envoy, and finally a philosopher of wine and world affairs. Along the way, he’s penned countless articles praising and panning everyone from Fidel Castro to Mahinda Rajapaksa—often in the same year.
Dayan’s real qualification? Adaptability.
He can speak in Leninist tones at a socialist forum in Havana and switch to geopolitical fear-mongering at a think-tank dinner in Colombo. In short, the man can talk. And talk he does. About Indian missiles. About Chinese tea diplomacy. About global power shifts. About almost anything—except what really matters: evidence.
Now, let’s examine the claim. Would India, currently hosting the biggest election in human history, quietly sneak into Sri Lanka and set up defence production units without even a press conference?
Where?
When?
With whose money?
On whose land?
Under what law?
Dr. Dayan offers none of these details. No coordinates. No schematics. No supply-chain strategy. Just a vague suggestion that India “agreed”—as if Modi casually jotted it down on a napkin while sipping coconut water with Dinesh Gunawardena.
Perhaps the factory will be located next to a tea estate. Perhaps they will turn tea factories into gun assembly lines. Perhaps gunpowder will be blended with BOPF.
It’s so absurd, even Bollywood wouldn’t write this script.
To understand Dayan’s motives, one must remember his past connections to New Delhi. He was once part of the intellectual circle that engaged with Indian diplomats during the height of EPRLF’s collaboration with the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF). Varadaraja Perumal, a footnote in Lankan history and a fascination in Dayan’s mind, was once saluting Indian generals while Dayan looked on admiringly—perhaps even hoping for a medal or a ministry.
Those were the days. Dayan had relevance. He had access.
But now, in 2025, things have changed.
The NPP Government has rewritten Colombo’s foreign policy playbook. Their connections to New Delhi are far deeper and more current than Dayan’s decaying Rolodex. Suddenly, Dayan is no longer the whisperer to the Indian ambassador. He’s a political orphan—unwanted by the Rajapaksas, distrusted by the JVP, and tolerated by the UNP only when they need a columnist who quotes Gramsci.
This sudden irrelevance may explain the theatrical claim: “Look! Look! India is militarizing Sri Lanka under NPP!”
It’s a desperate cry for attention in a geopolitical world that no longer reads Dayan’s emails.
There’s an irony in Dayan accusing the NPP of “selling out” to India. This, from a man who once leaked sensitive backchannel discussions to friendly newspapers, who allegedly sought foreign sponsorships during key constitutional moments, and who has changed political colors more often than a chameleon on an LED dance floor.
Let’s be honest. This isn’t about Indian missiles. It’s about Dayan’s missile-sized ego.
He wants back in. Into relevance. Into newsrooms. Into power circles. Into business-class flights to Moscow or Beijing (with a quiet stay in Paris if the wife insists). And what better way to stir the pot than inventing a fictional Indian defence factory?
It’s an opportunistic move. He wants the NPP to flinch. He wants Beijing to notice. He wants Modi’s team to call and ask, “Who’s leaking our imaginary plans?”
To their credit, the NPP hasn’t even bothered to respond to Dayan’s hallucinations. Unlike the previous governments—who would have scrambled to issue denials, set up committees, or hold urgent pressers—the NPP has wisely chosen silence.
Because engaging with Dayan’s claim is like arguing with a cloud.
Still, behind the scenes, NPP insiders reportedly laugh at the whole episode. “Missile factory near a tea estate? What next—Putin’s private sub parked at Beruwala?” one official joked.
Another simply said: “Dayan is doing what he always does—making himself useful to the highest bidder, even if the bidder is a bottle of cheap Merlot.”
But beware, warns a growing chorus of political voices. If Dayan continues to fabricate, provoke, and manipulate, certain truths from the past may resurface.
For example:
His time under J.R. Jayewardene’s protective wing during the 1987–89 period, when others were being "disappeared," and he was giving lectures on Trotsky.
His close ties to certain Colombo embassies, who found his analysis fascinating—until it turned out to be recycled from a 1983 editorial.
His long record of being a political nomad—from EPRLF sympathizer to Rajapaksa cheerleader to SJB advisor—depending on who footed the hotel bill.
If Dayan doesn’t tone down the rhetoric, the old files may open. And when they do, we may finally discover whether his diplomatic wine cellar was funded by UN allowances or something more... generous.
In the end, the real question isn’t whether India is building defence factories in Sri Lanka. It’s whether anyone still takes Dr. Dayan Jayatilleka seriously.
Because in the realm of defence, diplomacy, and national security, we cannot afford to let armchair analysts with fading connections and thirsty egos hijack the national conversation.
If India builds a factory—we’ll know. If NPP signs an agreement—it will be tabled in Parliament. If defence production comes to Sri Lanka—it will not be because Dr. Dayan tweeted it from a wine bar.
So to the dear Doctor, here’s a final word:
Retire the theatrics. Recycle the rhetoric. And remember—Sri Lanka is not your wine cellar.
-By Political Editor
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by (2025-04-17 17:37:26)
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