Ajith Dharmapala: The Man in Britain Who Thinks He Can Run Sri Lanka’s Police From a Distance
There is always one man living abroad who believes he sees Sri Lanka more clearly than those who are actually inside it. This week, that role appears to have been enthusiastically embraced by Ajith Dharmapala, a former police officer who now seems determined to present himself as a one-man oversight committee, intelligence analyst, political commentator and, perhaps in his own imagination, the future Director General of Scotland Yard.
Dharmapala’s recent comments about police transfers, political interference and underworld killings in Sri Lanka have been dramatic, detailed and confidently delivered. The only problem is that they seem to rely more on storytelling than evidence.
According to his version of events, a senior police officer in Monaragala was transferred because he had begun exposing politically sensitive links between criminal suspects and local political figures. Dharmapala alleges that Minister Vatagala was involved in transfering the Monaragala HQI in order to protect a local JVP politician, Prasad Dharmapriya.
That is an extremely serious accusation.
But serious accusations require serious evidence.
So far, Dharmapala appears to offer little more than a narrative. He speaks of police officers acting independently, of suspects being arrested without informing senior officers, of criminal networks linked to underworld figure Karandeniye Sudda, and of a wider conspiracy involving political protection. Yet none of these claims have been supported by documents, witness testimony, official complaints or public evidence.
Instead, what the public is hearing resembles a detective novel.
Dharmapala claims that three suspects — Mahesh Angoda, Kalum Milan and Dhanushika — were arrested in connection with the killing of lawyer Buddhika Mallawarachchi and his wife Nisansala near Army Headquarters. He suggests that after those arrests, shootings in Sri Lanka became less frequent, implying that the suspects had links to a wider network of organised crime.
Again, perhaps there is truth in some of these claims. Perhaps there are genuine questions that deserve investigation. But in any functioning legal system, there is a difference between suspicion and proof.
One cannot simply appear on television, present a theory, connect names together and expect the public to treat it as established fact.
If Dharmapala believes the transfer of the Monaragala HQI was improper, there are formal mechanisms available. Sri Lanka has a National Police Commission. Officers who believe they have been unfairly transferred or politically targeted can make representations through official channels. Complaints can be filed. Evidence can be produced. Witnesses can be called.
That is how institutions are meant to function.
Instead, Dharmapala seems to prefer the role of long-distance investigator, sitting in Britain and delivering dramatic monologues about who is corrupt, who is compromised and who is secretly protecting criminals.
It raises an obvious question: what exactly qualifies him to act as the unofficial guardian of Sri Lanka’s police service?
Being a former OIC of Ragala Police Station may provide operational experience. It does not automatically make someone an authority on every police transfer, every political decision or every criminal investigation taking place across the country.
Dharmapala speaks as though he alone has uncovered a vast hidden truth that nobody else can see. He speaks as though he possesses some rare Sherlock Holmes-like instinct for criminal investigation. He speaks as though Sri Lanka’s police command structure is simply waiting for his advice from Britain before making its next move.
But policing is not conducted through gossip, television speculation or overseas commentary.
If there was misconduct by the Monaragala HQI, then a transfer could be justified. If there was abuse of power, then disciplinary action could be justified. Police officers are not immune from accountability simply because someone claims they were “too honest” or “too independent”.
What is striking is that Dharmapala seems unwilling to consider that possibility. In his version of events, the transferred officer is automatically the victim, the minister is automatically guilty and the entire system is automatically corrupt.
That is not analysis. That is assumption.
Even more curious are his claims about the future of the Police Commission. Dharmapala has suggested that the current chairman, Lalith Ekanayake, is nearing the end of his tenure and that the government may appoint a retired military officer in his place.
Perhaps that may happen. Perhaps it may not. But once again, Dharmapala presents speculation as though it were insider intelligence.
There is a growing habit among certain commentators to speak with absolute certainty about events they cannot possibly verify. They offer rumours dressed up as facts. They present theories as conclusions. They use the language of insider knowledge while avoiding the burden of proving anything.
That is dangerous, especially when discussing the police, the underworld and political interference.
Sri Lanka certainly has a long history of politicised policing. Transfers have often been influenced by politicians. Investigations have been stalled. Powerful people have escaped scrutiny. Nobody seriously disputes that.
But if one wishes to expose wrongdoing, it must be done responsibly. Evidence matters. Credibility matters. Institutions matter.
Otherwise, the public is simply left with another man in Britain behaving as though he is the Commissioner of the Metropolitan Police, the head of MI5 and Sherlock Holmes all rolled into one.
Sri Lanka does not need more self-appointed detectives offering theories from afar.
It needs facts.