From Comrades to Critics: Investigating the Disquiet of Ex-JVP Seniors with the NPP Government
An investigative review into ideology, displacement, and the politics of resentment
The rise of the National People’s Power (NPP) government marked a decisive rupture in Sri Lankan politics. For the first time, a political formation rooted in the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) tradition did not merely protest power but exercised it. Ministries were occupied, policy was drafted, and governance replaced rhetoric. Yet, almost immediately, an unexpected and curious opposition emerged, not from traditional rivals on the right, but from within the extended family of the old Left itself.
Former JVP seniors, some long removed from the party, some geographically distant, and others ideologically transformed, have become among the most relentless critics of the NPP administration. Their columns appear daily. Their commentary focuses obsessively on minor administrative missteps, procedural delays, or symbolic gestures that would barely register under previous governments. The question, therefore, is not whether criticism is legitimate in a democracy. It is. The question is why this criticism takes the particular form it does, and why it emanates so persistently from a specific cohort of former comrades.
This review is not personal. It is material. It asks whether what we are witnessing is ideological disagreement, journalistic vigilance, or something less noble: political jealousy dressed as analysis.
The Profile of the New Critics
Two names recur with remarkable frequency in this genre of commentary: Lionel Bopage and Sunanda Deshapriya. Both are former JVP figures. Both once spoke the language of revolutionary politics. Both now occupy a space closer to liberal or centre-right critique, often writing from outside the country or from positions detached from grassroots political engagement.
Their articles are not exposés in the classic investigative sense. They rarely reveal corruption, systemic abuse, or democratic erosion. Instead, they focus on tone, symbolism, alleged authoritarian tendencies, or perceived ideological backsliding. The disproportion between the gravity of the critique and the triviality of the trigger has not gone unnoticed by readers. In fact, among large sections of the Sinhala-language media audience, such writings have become a subject of satire rather than serious debate.
Sunanda Deshapriya: A Political Evolution or a Political Reversal?
Sunanda Deshapriya’s trajectory is instructive. Those who observed him during earlier periods remember a journalist deeply sympathetic to leftist causes and mass resistance. There are documented instances where he reported sympathetically on public anger following acts of political violence. One such moment was after the killing of Nalanda Ellawala in Kuruvita during an election campaign, followed by attacks on United National Party (UNP) properties in Ratnapura. At that time, Deshapriya did not rush to condemn the protesters. His reporting reflected an understanding of structural injustice and political rage. It was the language of the Left.
Fast forward to the present, and the contrast is stark. The same individual now applies an unforgiving liberal-democratic lens to the NPP government, often demanding standards of perfection rarely expected from any Sri Lankan administration, let alone one navigating economic collapse, institutional decay, and entrenched bureaucratic resistance.
This raises an unavoidable question: what changed? Was it ideology, or position? Is the criticism rooted in a coherent alternative vision, or in a sense of exclusion from the current political moment?
Critically, Deshapriya’s commentaries rarely acknowledge the structural constraints under which the NPP operates. Instead, they isolate incidents, magnify them, and present them as evidence of moral or ideological failure. For an audience familiar with Sri Lanka’s political history, this approach feels less like vigilance and more like score-settling.
Media Credentials and Political Motive
Investigative journalism demands a clear separation between public interest and personal grievance. When a journalist repeatedly targets a government for minor issues while remaining silent on far graver abuses under previous regimes, questions naturally arise about motive.
Is it legitimate to ask whether Deshapriya feels sidelined by the current administration? Is it unreasonable to wonder whether the absence of recognition, advisory roles, or informal influence has translated into hostility? These are not ad hominem attacks; they are standard questions of political economy within media analysis.
The ethical issue is not criticism itself, but whether media platforms are being used to prosecute personal vendettas under the guise of democratic concern.
Lionel Bopage: Distance and Disproportion
Lionel Bopage presents a different, but related, case. A former General Secretary of the JVP, he now writes from abroad, physically removed from the social and political realities of contemporary Sri Lanka. His interventions frequently revive outdated ideological disputes or internal party debates from decades past, presenting them as urgent critiques of the current NPP government.
Here, the question of jealousy becomes harder to avoid. Under Bopage’s leadership, the JVP never achieved the electoral or governmental breakthrough that the NPP has now accomplished. History is not kind to unrealised ambitions, and politics is rarely generous to those who feel surpassed by their successors.
Why, then, does Bopage feel entitled to lecture Sri Lankan readers on governance choices from afar? On what democratic basis does someone not residing in the country, not accountable to its electorate, and not engaged in its daily struggles, position himself as a moral arbiter of the NPP’s performance?
Criticism from the diaspora can be valuable. But it demands humility, context, and factual rigour. What readers increasingly encounter instead is abstraction without accountability.
From Left to Centre-Right: An Ideological Migration
A striking feature of these critiques is how closely they now align with narratives traditionally advanced by centre-right and liberal establishment circles. Concerns about “authoritarian tendencies,” “populism,” and “lack of consultation” echo talking points long used to discredit left-wing governments globally.
This ideological migration is not, in itself, a crime. Political evolution is legitimate. What is questionable is the refusal to acknowledge that evolution honestly. Former revolutionaries now speak as if they still occupy the moral high ground of the Left, while deploying arguments indistinguishable from those of the old elite.
Minor Issues, Major Obsession
Perhaps the most telling aspect of this phenomenon is the obsessive focus on minor governance issues. A poorly worded statement. A delayed appointment. A symbolic gesture misinterpreted. These are elevated into evidence of catastrophic failure.
For readers accustomed to decades of corruption, nepotism, and impunity, such criticism appears not merely disproportionate, but absurd. It trivialises the very concept of accountability by reducing it to pedantry.
The Politics of Being Left Behind
At its core, this conflict may have less to do with policy and more to do with relevance. The NPP represents a generational and organisational shift. It has moved beyond the personalities and debates of the old JVP. Those who once occupied central roles now find themselves spectators rather than participants.
For some, this displacement is accepted with grace. For others, it curdles into resentment.
Criticism or Comedy?
Sri Lanka needs critical journalism. It needs dissenting voices. It needs rigorous scrutiny of those in power. But it also needs intellectual honesty.
When criticism becomes repetitive, petty, and disconnected from material realities, it loses its force. When former comrades appear unable to celebrate a historic left-wing victory without immediately trying to undermine it, readers are entitled to ask why.
The challenge to Lionel Bopage, Sunanda Deshapriya, and others is simple: raise the bar. Engage with policy, not personality. Analyse structures, not symbols. Criticise with proportion, not pettiness.
Otherwise, the risk is clear. What presents itself as fearless critique will continue to be received as something far less dignified: the politics of jealousy, performed daily, and increasingly, ignored.