Cash for Columns: Sri Lanka’s Crisis of “Paid Journalism” Comes Under Scrutiny
In the cafés of Colombo’s political district, rumours travel faster than headlines. But over the past month, one allegation has exploded beyond gossip into a national controversy: claims that a network of journalists and online media operators in Sri Lanka were allegedly paid to publish politically motivated attacks against the National People’s Power (NPP) government, state institutions, and selected businesses.
The allegations, now circulating widely among political activists and media watchdog circles, were amplified by the online platform Colombo Wire, which claims to have uncovered evidence involving approximately 35 journalists and web-based media outlets allegedly engaged in “journalism for hire.”
The accusations strike at the heart of Sri Lanka’s fragile media credibility — a profession already battered by decades of political patronage, intimidation, propaganda wars, and financial vulnerability.
According to campaigners connected to the investigation, several online portals intensified criticism of the government during the recent depreciation of the Sri Lankan rupee against the US dollar, portraying the currency slide as proof of economic collapse and administrative incompetence.
Yet critics now point to what happened next.
Within days, the rupee partially recovered and, according to regional market data, became one of the stronger-performing currencies in South Asia during that trading period. The same websites that aggressively amplified panic during the depreciation, campaigners allege, remained noticeably silent about the rebound.
“This is not journalism. This is narrative manipulation,” one Colombo-based activist said. “If you report the fall, but deliberately suppress the recovery, then the objective is not informing the public — it is influencing public psychology.”
The controversy has ignited calls for a formal investigation into media financing, political influence operations, and the opaque ownership structures of many Sri Lankan digital news outlets.
Several activists are now demanding that the NPP administration introduce disclosure laws compelling media organisations to publicly declare their funding sources, foreign sponsorships, advertising income, and political affiliations.
The debate is especially sensitive because the NPP government came to power promising democratic openness and a less repressive media environment than previous administrations. Critics argue that certain actors may now be exploiting that freedom for commercial or geopolitical purposes.
“What we are witnessing is the privatisation of propaganda,” said one media analyst in Colombo. “In the past, governments controlled narratives directly. Today, narratives can be outsourced through sponsored journalism disguised as independent reporting.”
The allegations also extend beyond domestic politics.
Campaigners claim some journalists and editors allegedly received financial benefits, overseas scholarships, sponsored travel, consultancy arrangements, or indirect diplomatic support linked to foreign missions operating in Colombo. No official evidence has yet been publicly produced to substantiate the claims, and no foreign mission has formally responded to the allegations.
Nonetheless, the accusations have intensified longstanding suspicions that Sri Lanka’s strategic location in the Indian Ocean has transformed parts of its media ecosystem into a battleground for influence operations involving competing regional and global powers.
Sri Lanka has historically occupied a critical geopolitical position between India, China, the United States, and Middle Eastern interests. As economic instability deepened after the 2022 crisis, concerns about foreign influence over domestic narratives also increased.
The controversy has further reopened debate around high-profile defence and corruption investigations, including the long-running scrutiny surrounding the floating armoury operated by Avant Garde Maritime Services.
Activists are now openly questioning whether favourable coverage or aggressive counter-campaigns linked to certain commercial interests may have involved financial inducements to online media operators.
“These websites operate like political mercenaries,” alleged one anti-corruption campaigner. “Today they attack a minister. Tomorrow they defend a businessman. The direction changes depending on who pays.”
Sri Lanka’s digital media sector has expanded rapidly during the past decade, partly because traditional newspapers and television stations suffered severe financial decline. Hundreds of websites now compete for advertising revenue, political patronage, and social media engagement.
But the sector remains largely unregulated.
Unlike established broadcasters, many online portals are not required to disclose ownership structures, editorial accountability, or funding arrangements. Critics argue this regulatory vacuum has created fertile ground for misinformation, covert influence campaigns, and extortion-style journalism.
Several journalists contacted regarding the allegations strongly rejected the accusations.
One editor dismissed the claims as “an authoritarian attempt to intimidate independent media,” arguing that criticism of government policy should not automatically be labelled corruption.
Another Colombo-based journalist warned that calls for regulation could easily become a pathway toward censorship.
“Sri Lanka has a terrible history of suppressing journalists,” he said. “If politicians start deciding which criticism is genuine and which is ‘paid,’ democracy itself becomes endangered.”
That warning resonates deeply in a country where journalists have historically faced disappearances, assaults, surveillance, and exile.
The murder of Lasantha Wickrematunge remains one of the most internationally recognised symbols of attacks on press freedom in Sri Lanka. Any proposal involving media investigations therefore carries profound political sensitivities.
Yet even defenders of press freedom privately acknowledge that financial corruption inside sections of the industry is an open secret.
Underpaid reporters, collapsing advertising markets, politically aligned ownership, and intense competition for online traffic have created conditions where ethical boundaries can become dangerously blurred.
Some media observers say the real crisis is not merely corruption, but the collapse of sustainable independent journalism itself.
“When journalism cannot financially survive honestly, parts of the industry inevitably become vulnerable to manipulation,” one senior editor explained. “The public then stops trusting everyone — including genuine investigative reporters.”
Campaigners behind the current allegations insist their objective is not censorship, but transparency.
They are calling for:
- Mandatory disclosure of media ownership structures;
- Public declarations of foreign funding and sponsored travel;
- Stronger financial auditing of online news organisations;
- Clear ethical standards for digital journalism;
- Independent oversight mechanisms rather than direct state control.
Whether the NPP government chooses to pursue such reforms remains uncertain.
For now, the controversy has exposed a deeper national anxiety: that in modern Sri Lanka, information itself has become a commodity traded between politics, money, diplomacy, and influence.
And in a country still recovering from economic collapse, public trust may ultimately prove more valuable — and more fragile — than the rupee itself.