-By LeN Political Editor
(Lanka-e-News -09.June.2025, 11.30 PM) In the gilded halls of Sri Lankan politics, where theatrical oration often masquerades as conviction, and grandstanding substitutes for governance, there thrives one particularly flamboyant figure – the ever-entertaining, ever-elusive, ever-evolving Dayasiri Jayasekara. Lawyer, karate champion, pop singer, former Minister, and self-declared reformist — yet more recently, better known as the country’s most contradictory political chameleon.
Dayasiri Jayasekara’s political trajectory has been anything but dull. A man capable of delivering a fiery speech on parliamentary ethics one day and backtracking on wildly inaccurate claims the next, Jayasekara embodies a uniquely Sri Lankan blend of performance politics and policy vacuousness.
The man who began his journey in politics with youthful ambition under the banner of the Sri Lanka Freedom Party (SLFP) in the mid-1990s has now become a symbol — not of principled resilience — but of political elasticity. He is a politician who has turned ideological somersaults with the grace of a gymnast, yet with the reliability of a windsock in a cyclone.
Jayasekara burst into public view during the 1997 local government elections, winning the highest number of preferential votes in the Paduwasnuwera Local Authority. A golden boy of the SLFP Youth Wing under President Chandrika Bandaranaike Kumaratunga, he even spearheaded the ‘Sarasamu Lanka’ programme to galvanize youth support. His early years included plum bureaucratic roles: Coordinating Secretary to the Ministry of Justice and International Trade, Chairman of the Mineral Sands Corporation, and later Lanka Phosphate. All under the aegis of his mentor, Professor G. L. Peiris.
But ambition is a slippery slope in Sri Lankan politics. In 2001, Jayasekara defected to the opposition United National Party (UNP), launching a parliamentary career that saw him become a rising star in the Kurunegala District. He secured 52,457 preferential votes in 2004, ballooning to a staggering 132,600 in 2010 — the highest in the district.
At this point, the story could have followed the familiar arc of loyalty and perseverance. But this is Dayasiri. The moment required ideological conflict. And so began his war with Ranil Wickremesinghe — a war of press conferences, televised diatribes, and dramatic walkouts.
Jayasekara branded Wickremesinghe a “dictator,” declared the UNP was undemocratic, and joined a faction demanding leadership change. Alongside Sajith Premadasa, he paraded as the moral conscience of the UNP, until 2013 when, in an act of political irony so blinding it might melt irony itself, he defected to the SLFP-led UPFA government — helmed by none other than Mahinda Rajapaksa, then at the peak of his centralising power.
The result? A record-breaking 300,000 votes in the provincial council election — outshining even former President Kumaratunga — and his anointment as Chief Minister of the North Western Province. His reward for “rebelling against dictatorship” was a comfortable post under an administration whose record on authoritarianism is, at best, controversial.
Jayasekara’s penchant for melodrama isn’t limited to the parliamentary floor. In an age of social media virality and theatrical populism, he has even dabbled in a singing career, releasing music videos where the lyrics are less controversial than his speeches but no less confusing.
Yet, even these excursions into soft entertainment can’t conceal a growing record of inaccuracies and misstatements that would be comical were they not also damaging.
Take, for instance, his recent BMW bungle — a faux scandal he manufactured during a press briefing. The MP claimed that a luxury BMW owned by the North Central Provincial Council had been sold for a meagre Rs. 5 million — an allegation meant to stir up outrage and accusations of corruption.
It was a perfectly executed soundbite. Until, of course, it wasn’t.
The Council promptly revealed that the vehicle had been sold for Rs. 21.8 million, and that the tender process brought in a total of Rs. 124 million through a transparent and well-audited process.
Faced with evidence, Jayasekara issued a limp apology, citing “inaccurate reports” in newspapers as the source of his misinformation. “I accept the mistake and am taking steps to correct it,” he announced, as though this were a routine clerical error, not a calculated political bombshell.
It is worth noting: in a political culture where fake news spreads faster than facts, and retractions seldom match the original headline’s visibility, Jayasekara’s apology was seen by critics as too little, too late. After all, once the mud is flung, it rarely lands only on its target.
To observers of Sri Lanka’s political theatre, Dayasiri Jayasekara is both a veteran and a paradox. He rails against party dictatorships, only to embrace the warmth of stronger hands. He calls for youth reform, but clings to a dated patronage model. He demands transparency, while misinforming the public about government tenders.
In fact, Jayasekara’s statements over the past two decades resemble a patchwork of ideological contradictions:
On Democracy: In 2010, he criticised Ranil Wickremesinghe’s leadership as undemocratic. But by 2015, he had joined a Cabinet under President Sirisena — whose party was not elected through a majority mandate — in what critics called a backroom compromise to hold onto power.
On Nationalism: At times, he flirts with Sinhala nationalist rhetoric, yet distances himself when international observers begin to sniff.
On Corruption: He speaks with righteous fury on corruption scandals — until it’s his own party, or own slip-up, that’s in the spotlight. Then it becomes a question of “misunderstanding” or “media exaggeration.”
This political promiscuity is not just a Dayasiri trait; it is a symptom of a wider rot in Sri Lankan political discourse — where public memory is assumed to be short, and performance substitutes for policy.
But unlike some of his quieter contemporaries, Jayasekara insists on staying at centre stage. Whether it’s attacking opposition leaders, storming out of party meetings, or crooning folk-pop ballads on YouTube, he cannot help but be noticed.
Many of his detractors, including those in the UNP and even the SLFP itself, have branded him a political clown — one who lurches from issue to issue with no clear ideology, only a desire for relevance. The phrase "political circus act" now follows him like a shadow.
Yet perhaps “clown” is the wrong metaphor. Jayasekara is no fool; he is shrewd, opportunistic, and unencumbered by ideological burdens. He understands — better than most — that politics in Sri Lanka is not won by ideas, but by survival. And survive he has.
That survival, however, has come at the cost of credibility. The BMW debacle was just one of several instances where his casual relationship with truth was laid bare. His tendency to shoot from the hip, to court controversy and then retreat into apology, is not the mark of a reformer. It is the mark of a man who believes politics is more about theatrics than transformation.
As Sri Lanka enters a new political era — with growing public demand for accountability, transparency, and a break from personality-driven politics — the question for Dayasiri Jayasekara is whether his old playbook still works.
Does the Sri Lankan public, battered by economic hardship and institutional collapse, still have the appetite for his brand of political pantomime? Or will they finally begin to reward those who deliver more than they perform?
In his next press conference — or perhaps his next song — Jayasekara will no doubt try to answer that. Until then, the country watches, weary-eyed, as one of its most mercurial actors continues his act.
Because in the end, Dayasiri Jayasekara is not a caricature. He is not a clown. He is a creation — of a system that rewards noise over nuance, and gestures over governance.
And so the circus continues.
Editor’s Note: The Lanka-e-News Political Debate is a daily series raising unfiltered questions about policy, power, and representation. Tomorrow’s topic: “The Commissioner General of Prisons Thushara Upuldeniya, set a world record with suspension and detention ?” Stay tuned.
-By LeN Political Editor
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by (2025-06-09 22:26:34)
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