POLITICAL

The Mandate That Came From the Margins: Has the NPP Misread Minority Politics After Its Historic Victory?

Colombo Voice – Third Series | Political Analysis

When Anura Kumara Dissanayake won the presidency in September 2024, the result was widely interpreted as a revolt against corruption, dynastic politics, and authoritarian misrule. But beneath the national narrative lay a quieter, more decisive truth: the victory of the National People’s Power (NPP) was decisively enabled by ethnic minorities, particularly Tamil voters in the North and East and Muslim voters across the country. 

This was not an accidental alignment. It was a conscious, collective political decision by communities that had, for decades, voted defensively—often choosing leaders they distrusted simply to block leaders they feared more.

In 2024, they chose differently.

The Minority Vote That Changed the Equation

Tamil voters, long trapped within identity-centric politics, broke ranks with traditional Tamil parties. Muslim voters, defying their own political leadership, rejected the SJB candidate openly endorsed by Muslim party elites and instead voted in large numbers for Anura Kumara Dissanayake.

This was not ideological conversion to Marxism or left-populism. It was a vote for rupture—a deliberate rejection of ethnic polarisation and communal brokerage politics.

Minorities voted for the NPP because they believed:

• Ethnic tension needed to end

• Governance had to be reset

• The Rajapaksa era of intimidation, exclusion, and selective violence must never return

For Muslims in particular, the memory of forced cremations under Gotabaya Rajapaksa, mob violence, surveillance, and collective suspicion was still raw. The NPP symbolised a break from that trauma.

A Vote Against Fear, Not For Privilege

Muslims did not vote for the NPP expecting patronage. They voted because they believed Anura Kumara Dissanayake would unite the country on civic lines, not ethnic ones.

Tamil voters, meanwhile, consciously sidelined Tamil nationalist elites. Identity politics had delivered neither dignity nor development. The NPP represented a fresh start—central governance without ethnic hostility.

This was, historically, one of the most politically mature minority voting behaviours Sri Lanka has ever seen.

And Then Came the Cabinet

It is here that the disquiet begins.

When the new government was formed, there was not a single Muslim cabinet minister appointed. Nor was there meaningful cabinet-level representation that minorities could identify as their political conduit.

For the Muslim community—particularly those who had defied their own leaders to support the NPP—this came as a profound shock.

The question that began circulating in mosques, community organisations, and professional circles was blunt:

“You asked us to support you. We did. So why are we invisible now?”

Representation Is Not Tokenism—It Is Political Reality

The NPP’s internal logic appears to be rooted in a post-ethnic ideal: that the government represents all citizens equally, regardless of race or religion. In theory, this is admirable.

In practice, Sri Lanka is not a post-ethnic society.

Ethnic minorities do not experience the state abstractly. They experience it through recognition, access, and delegated authority. Throughout Sri Lankan history—under UNP, SLFP, SLPP, and coalition governments—minority communities have been politically engaged through identifiable leaders within government structures.

This is not unique to Sri Lanka.
It is how minority governance functions globally.

Even in systems that officially reject identity politics—China, Vietnam, and several Middle Eastern states—minorities are carefully represented through trusted intermediaries. Not because ideology demands it, but because stability requires it.

The Muslim Political Culture the NPP Underestimated

Muslim political behaviour operates within a distinct cultural and global context.

Political Islam—whether moderate or conservative—is not merely local. It is transnational, sensitive to symbolism, recognition, and perceived respect. Community legitimacy is not built only through policy delivery but through visible inclusion.

The absence of a Muslim cabinet minister was therefore not read as neutrality. It was read as distance.

More dangerously, it placed Muslim NPP supporters in a vulnerable position. They had already broken with traditional Muslim parties. Now they were being questioned by their own community:

“You rejected our leaders for this—what did you gain?”

This is how political trust erodes.

Tamil Expectations: A Parallel Anxiety

In the North and East, similar concerns are emerging.

Tamil voters consciously rejected Tamil identity politics in favour of national reform. But they are now watching closely. If Muslims—who delivered a decisive swing—can be politically sidelined, what assurance exists for Tamils?

The fear is not of discrimination, but of political invisibility.

Minority voters are not asking for ethnic governance. They are asking for structured engagement.

Friendly Leaders, Structural Blindness

There is an irony here.

Several senior NPP figures are personally well-versed in minority cultures:

• Tilvin Silva, from Beruwala, a historic Muslim centre

• Vijitha Herath, fluent in Tamil and experienced in cross-ethnic political engagement

• Anura Kumara Dissanayake, publicly committed to national unity

There is no evidence of prejudice or hostility.

What appears to be missing is practical understanding of how minority politics actually functions—not emotionally, but structurally.

Friendship is not representation.
Good intentions are not political architecture.

Can Majoritarian Leaders “Represent” Minorities?

A core assumption within the NPP seems to be that a non-Muslim or non-Tamil leader can adequately represent minority concerns through institutional channels.

This is partially true—but only up to a point.

Certain issues—religious affairs, cultural sensitivities, international Muslim networks, Tamil post-war reconciliation—require insider legitimacy. Without that, even well-intentioned interventions lack trust.

A GCC diplomat reportedly remarked after a Colombo meeting:

“The NPP had the perfect opportunity to anchor Muslim confidence early. Now we are hearing complaints—from Sri Lankan Muslims—to Gulf embassies.”

That is not a trivial signal.

Missed Opportunity, Not Malice

This is not an accusation of betrayal. It is an analysis of a missed political opportunity.

The NPP could have:

• Appointed a Muslim cabinet minister as a transitional bridge

• Used that platform to engage the community institutionally

• Gradually built a new generation of Muslim NPP leadership

This phased approach has precedent everywhere. Radical overnight transformation of minority political behaviour is unrealistic.

Instead, the current posture risks being interpreted as:

“Thank you for your votes. Governance will proceed without you.”

That perception—fair or not—is politically dangerous.

Global Context Matters

Muslim politics today is not confined within national borders. Community grievances are quickly internationalised—through media, diplomatic channels, and transnational religious networks.

Ignoring that reality does not make it disappear. It magnifies backlash.

Sri Lanka has already experienced how international Muslim opinion can shape diplomatic relationships, particularly in the Middle East.

The Stakes for the NPP

The NPP’s greatest achievement was breaking ethnic voting patterns. Its greatest risk now is recreating minority distrust through structural oversight.

Minority voters did not ask for special privilege. They asked for recognition, dialogue, and political presence.

Without that, the coalition that enabled historic change may quietly fracture.

The Test of Inclusive Power

The NPP did not win alone. It was carried to power by those who believed Sri Lanka could finally transcend fear politics.

That belief must now be honoured—not rhetorically, but institutionally.

Understanding minority political culture is not a concession to communalism. It is the price of national cohesion.

The question before the NPP is simple, but urgent:

Will it govern for minorities, or with them?

The answer will determine whether September 2024 becomes a turning point—or a missed moment in Sri Lanka’s long struggle for inclusive democracy.