“Doubts Emerge Over Political Competence of Samabima Party Head”
In a calculated bid to reinsert himself into Sri Lanka’s increasingly fragmented political discourse, Dipthi Kumara Gunaratne, leader of the Samabima Party, has turned to the arena of public debate as a vehicle for political rebranding—an approach that critics argue subtly aligns him with the ideological orbit of former President Ranil Wickremesinghe.
Speaking during a recent interview on the “Ideas Front” YouTube channel, Gunaratne asserted that “politics is not tribalism,” a statement that, while outwardly appealing to pluralism and rational discourse, appears to be part of a broader effort to reposition himself within Sri Lanka’s evolving political centre. The remark, delivered in Sinhala, comes at a time when political actors across the spectrum are recalibrating their narratives ahead of anticipated electoral shifts.
The interview, hosted by journalist Narada Bakmeewewa, offered Gunaratne a platform not merely to articulate ideological positions but to craft a renewed public persona—one that distances itself from rigid partisan loyalties while, paradoxically, signalling a degree of ideological sympathy toward the governance style associated with Wickremesinghe.
Observers note that Gunaratne’s emphasis on “non-tribal” politics is less a philosophical declaration and more a strategic communication device. In the Sri Lankan political lexicon, accusations of “tribalism” often refer to deeply entrenched party loyalties and ethnicised political alignments. By rejecting this notion, Gunaratne positions himself as a rationalist voice—yet his concurrent rhetoric suggests a quiet endorsement of the technocratic, stability-first governance model that Wickremesinghe has long championed.
During the discussion, Gunaratne also revisited the contentious handling of the COVID-19 pandemic under former President Gotabaya Rajapaksa. He argued that Sri Lanka had managed the crisis “at a higher level than the United States,” and went so far as to defend Rajapaksa’s oft-criticised claim that “we did it best,” insisting that the statement contained an element of truth.
This defence is particularly noteworthy given Gunaratne’s current positioning. By acknowledging the relative effectiveness of Rajapaksa-era pandemic controls, he appears to be constructing a narrative of pragmatic evaluation rather than ideological opposition. Such framing allows him to selectively validate past administrations while maintaining a forward-looking stance—an approach consistent with political actors seeking to broaden their appeal beyond traditional voter bases.
Also participating in the discussion was political analyst Vipula Karunatillake, who offered a complementary perspective. Karunatillake characterised the COVID-19 pandemic as an “unavoidable situation,” explaining that his group had supported the Rajapaksa government during that period for precisely that reason. He extended this logic to the present political climate, arguing that the current challenges facing Sri Lanka are similarly unavoidable, thereby justifying his group’s support for the incumbent administration.
This framing of political crises as “inevitable” serves to normalise shifting allegiances—a phenomenon that has become increasingly visible in Sri Lanka’s post-crisis political landscape. Analysts suggest that such narratives provide intellectual cover for repositioning, allowing political actors to align themselves with prevailing power structures without appearing opportunistic.
Gunaratne’s participation in the “Ideas Front” programme must therefore be understood not merely as an isolated media appearance but as part of a broader strategy of discursive engagement. By entering the public debate space—particularly through digital platforms with growing youth audiences—he is attempting to cultivate a constituency that values intellectualism and policy-driven discussion over traditional party politics.
Yet, the underlying question remains: is this a genuine ideological evolution, or a calculated attempt to mirror the centrist pragmatism associated with Wickremesinghe? Critics argue that Gunaratne’s rhetoric, while cloaked in the language of independent thought, ultimately converges with the policy continuity narrative that Wickremesinghe has sought to project since assuming leadership during Sri Lanka’s economic crisis.
Indeed, Wickremesinghe’s political brand has long been built on notions of stability, international credibility, and technocratic governance—qualities that resonate with segments of the electorate fatigued by populist volatility. By subtly aligning with these themes, Gunaratne may be positioning himself as a secondary conduit for the same ideological current, thereby expanding his relevance within a crowded political field.
At the same time, his willingness to defend aspects of the Rajapaksa administration introduces a layer of complexity. Rather than adopting a binary stance, Gunaratne appears to be crafting a hybrid narrative—one that acknowledges the perceived strengths of past governments while advocating for a depoliticised, debate-driven future.
The strategic use of platforms such as YouTube underscores the changing dynamics of political communication in Sri Lanka. Traditional media, once the primary battleground for political messaging, is increasingly being supplemented—if not supplanted—by digital forums that allow for longer-form, ostensibly more nuanced discussions. For politicians like Gunaratne, this shift offers an opportunity to engage directly with audiences without the constraints of conventional media framing.
However, the effectiveness of this approach remains uncertain. While intellectual discourse may urban, educated voters, it risks alienating constituencies that prioritise tangible policy outcomes over abstract debate. Moreover, the perception of ideological inconsistency—particularly in a political culture that values loyalty—could undermine efforts to build a coherent and credible brand.
Ultimately, Gunaratne’s latest media appearance highlights the fluidity of Sri Lanka’s landscape, where alliances are increasingly shaped by circumstance rather than doctrine. Whether his emphasis on “non-tribal” politics will translate into electoral traction—or merely reinforce perceptions of opportunistic alignment—will depend on his ability to convert rhetoric into a consistent and compelling political programme.
For now, his engagement in public debate appears less an end in itself than a means to an end: the careful construction of a political identity that is at once independent, pragmatic, and—perhaps most significantly—compatible with the enduring influence of figures like Ranil Wickremesinghe.