Wobbly Tooth Journalism: The Curious Case of Uvindu Kulakulasuriya and the Politics of Convenient Exile
In Sri
Lanka’s increasingly crowded media landscape, where credibility is currency and
consistency is character, few figures generate as much quiet controversy as the
editor of Lanka Telegraph. Marketed for years as an “exiled journalist,” Uvindu
Kulakulasuriya has carefully cultivated the image of a fearless critic
operating from afar. Yet today, many are beginning to ask: is this exile a
political necessity—or a convenient branding exercise?
More
importantly, what direction does his political commentary actually take?
The Art of Ambiguity
Kulakulasuriya’s
recent writing on Sri Lankan politics—particularly on the National People’s
Power (NPP) government—reveals a peculiar pattern. One week, he raises sharp
criticisms. The next, he extends what looks like an olive branch. When
challenged, he retreats behind humour: “It was only a joke.” When
confronted with backlash, he claims he was merely “testing the waters.”
This is
not investigative journalism. It is what many now describe as wobbly tooth
journalism—writing that shakes loudly but bites softly, offering noise
without substance.
Such
ambiguity allows the writer to remain politically “safe” at all times: critical
when convenient, conciliatory when necessary, evasive when exposed.
Bedroom Commentaries and Political Guesswork
Writing
about Sri Lankan politics from a distance is not inherently flawed. Many
serious analysts operate abroad. The problem arises when distance turns into
detachment.
Kulakulasuriya’s
commentary increasingly resembles political fortune-telling from a London
bedroom rather than grounded analysis from the field. His pieces often lack
engagement with grassroots realities, labour struggles, rural education
challenges, and welfare dependency cycles.
Instead,
readers are served speculative theories, selective outrage, and half-formed
critiques—particularly on sensitive issues such as education reform, judicial
restructuring, and social welfare policy.
On
education reform, for instance, his writings betray a limited understanding of
structural decay, teacher shortages, curriculum stagnation, and rural-urban
disparities. On judicial policy, his arguments appear more ideological than
empirical. On welfare reform, they ignore fiscal constraints and demographic
pressures.
In short:
strong opinions, weak foundations.
Playing Both Sides of the Political Fence
Another
troubling trend is Kulakulasuriya’s apparent willingness to outsource
criticism. Certain contributors are encouraged to publish glowing accounts of
NPP popularity while subtly inserting doubts and insinuations. The result is a
dual-track narrative: public neutrality, private scepticism.
This
strategy—criticise without owning the critique—may protect reputations, but it
damages journalistic integrity.
It raises
a simple question: if you believe something is wrong, why not say it openly and
defend it with evidence?
Journalism or Personal Projection?
Over
time, a pattern emerges. Kulakulasuriya often writes as though he alone
understands Sri Lankan politics, as though decades of activists, economists,
trade unionists, and policy experts are somehow less informed than him.
When his
analyses fail, they are reframed as “experiments” or “provocations.” When his
predictions collapse, they are dismissed as “misunderstood satire.”
This is
not accountability. It is evasion.
True
journalism stands by its claims. It corrects mistakes publicly. It learns from
error. It does not hide behind irony.
Ignoring Economic Realities
Perhaps
most striking is the disconnect between Kulakulasuriya’s pessimism and Sri Lanka’s
evolving economic indicators.
Despite
immense structural challenges, the NPP government’s crisis management has been
acknowledged by institutions such as the International Monetary Fund and the Asian
Development Bank. Foreign reserves have stabilised. Debt restructuring has
advanced. Fiscal discipline has improved.
These
developments do not mean perfection. But they deserve serious analysis, not
casual dismissal.
To ignore
such data is to replace journalism with narrative-building.
The Missing Voice of the Poor
Most
troubling, however, is what rarely appears in Kulakulasuriya’s writing: the
voices of ordinary Sri Lankans.
The garment worker struggling with inflation.