The recent Co-operative Society elections across Sri Lanka have quietly revealed a political undercurrent that the NPP can no longer ignore. While the party continues to project national confidence, the defeats in a series of key southern districts, including Kelaniya, Beruwala and Homagama, point to a deeper truth: the NPP’s grassroots strength is slipping.
In at least nine out of 14 co-operative contests, NPP backed groups suffered defeat at the hands of opposition or independent alliances. These are not isolated setbacks; they expose the widening gap between the government’s rhetoric of reform and the everyday reality of disillusionment among its base, particularly among the working class communities that lifted the NPP into power.
When President Anura Kumara Dissanayake took office, his government promised to restore democratic institutions that had long been neglected, particularly the Provincial Council (PC) elections, which have not been held since 2018. Early statements from NPP leaders suggested that polls would be conducted by early 2026, ensuring the revival of devolved governance under the 13th Amendment.
However, after the co-operative election defeats, that enthusiasm appears to have diminished. Within the NPP and JVP circles, some leaders are now calling for strategic patience, arguing that the government should focus on development and constitutional reforms before holding PC elections. In practice, this follows a familiar political pattern. Successive governments have used similar justifications, including delimitation and reform priorities, to defer provincial polls indefinitely. The NPP, once the loudest critic of such evasions, now seems poised to follow the same course.
The logic is straightforward: the NPP cannot risk another public test while its popularity weakens at the grassroots level. The co-operative results demonstrate that even in traditional left-leaning areas, the party’s support has eroded amid inflation, cost of living pressures and stalled reforms. Holding fresh elections, particularly in politically sensitive provinces, could expose the limits of its appeal beyond parliament and major urban centres.
Consequently, the postponement of PC elections is increasingly framed as an administrative necessity rather than a retreat from democracy. Behind this technical language, however, lies an uncomfortable truth: the NPP’s confidence in its people’s mandate is diminishing.
The victims of this political hesitation are not only the voters of the South but also the Tamil population of the North and East, whose right to devolved governance remains suspended. The 13th Amendment, established through the Indo–Lanka Accord of 1987, was intended to guarantee regional autonomy and self-administration. By continuing to delay PC elections, the NPP government risks further marginalising the Tamil people, replacing elected Provincial Councils with unelected governors accountable solely to Colombo.
This undermines the constitutional spirit of devolution and deepens the divide between the Northern and Southern populations. If a government that came to power promising to restore democracy now avoids fulfilling its constitutional obligations, it demonstrates a return to the same centralised arrogance that has fuelled ethnic mistrust for decades.
The most effective solution may lie not in politics but in law. If opposition parties, particularly Tamil representatives such as M.A. Sumanthiran challenge the delay in court, it could compel the NPP to act. A judicial order mandating PC elections would leave the government no choice but to honour its constitutional duty.
Several constitutional experts have already argued that the continued absence of provincial governance constitutes a breach of the 13th Amendment and Article 154 of the Constitution, both of which require the establishment of elected councils. A successful challenge could restore not only the councils themselves but also the principle of accountability that has steadily eroded.
The NPP’s co-operative election defeats are more than local setbacks; they represent a referendum on credibility. If the government chooses to hide behind reform agendas instead of facing the electorate, it risks repeating the very mistakes it once condemned. Postponing democracy to protect political comfort is not reform; it is regression.
Sri Lanka has waited long enough for its provinces to regain their democratic voice. For the Tamil people, each delay is another reminder that promises of inclusion remain unfulfilled. For the NPP, each postponed election erodes the moral ground upon which it claimed legitimacy. The choice before the government is clear: renew democracy or betray it.