by Luxman Aravind
For more than six decades, the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna built its political identity around confrontation with the existing state structure. Its language was not the language of gradual reform, compromise, or institutional adjustment. It was the language of transformation, resistance, and the complete rejection of a political order it described as corrupt, exploitative, and morally bankrupt. The JVP did not present itself as another participant in the traditional political competition. It presented itself as the alternative to that entire political culture.
That history cannot be erased simply because the movement has now entered the centre of state power.
The greatest contradiction facing President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and the National People’s Power government is not whether they can defeat their political opponents. That was always the easier task. The real question is whether a movement that spent decades defining itself through opposition, criticism, and rejection can suddenly convince the country that it has mastered the far more difficult responsibility of governing, rebuilding, and delivering results.
Destroying an existing order and constructing a functioning state are not the same political skill. A movement can gain popularity by exposing failures. A government must prove itself by creating solutions.
This is the uncomfortable reality facing the new administration.
President Dissanayake’s recent parliamentary speech demonstrated this contradiction clearly. A significant portion of his address was devoted to the idea of civility, acceptable behaviour, and the moral standards expected from critics of the government. The language sounded responsible. No democratic society should reject the importance of respectful political debate. But the deeper question remains unanswered. Who has the authority to define what is civilized and what is not?
In a democracy, criticism is not an act of vulgarity. It is a fundamental responsibility of citizenship.
The irony is that many movements that once demanded the right to challenge power often become uncomfortable when that same right is exercised against them. The political language of resistance is easy when standing outside government institutions. The real test begins when the same movement occupies those institutions and discovers that criticism does not disappear simply because the critics are now challenging those who once demanded accountability.
This is the oldest contradiction of political power.
Those who spend decades demanding that governments answer difficult questions eventually find themselves in the position of having to answer those same questions.
The concern surrounding the President’s speech was not merely what he said, but what he avoided saying. The country is facing serious questions about economic recovery, institutional independence, corruption investigations, public confidence, state reform, and whether the promises made during years of opposition politics can survive the realities of administration. These are not issues that can be replaced by political theatre or emotionally powerful speeches.
A government cannot permanently govern by reminding citizens how bad previous governments were. At some point, every new government must stop explaining the failures of the past and begin explaining the achievements of the present. This is where the JVP’s historical contradiction becomes impossible to ignore.
For decades, the party argued that Sri Lanka’s political system was corrupted beyond repair. It claimed that traditional parties were trapped in networks of privilege, family politics, financial influence, and institutional decay. That message resonated deeply with a population exhausted by disappointment and repeated political failures. But power creates a new responsibility.
A party that spent decades promising to replace a broken system must now prove that it can operate within that system without becoming another version of what it once opposed.
The question is not whether the JVP has changed. Political movements must change if they want to govern. The question is whether the transformation is deep enough to alter political behaviour, not merely political language.
Because history has repeatedly shown that revolutionary movements often face their greatest crisis after victory. Opposition politics rewards certainty. Governance requires humility. Opposition politics thrives on exposing contradictions. Governance requires solving them.
A movement can survive by saying that the entire system is the problem. A government must identify which parts of that system can be repaired, which institutions must be strengthened, and how change can be achieved without creating new forms of political arrogance.
The danger begins when a government starts believing that because it came to power with a morally superior narrative, its decisions automatically become morally superior. No government receives permanent moral authority from its history. Every government must earn legitimacy every day through transparency, accountability, and performance.
The JVP’s past cannot be its permanent defence. A revolutionary background does not automatically produce revolutionary governance. A history of opposing corruption does not automatically guarantee the elimination of corruption. A reputation for honesty does not remove the obligation to answer questions.
The people did not elect the JVP merely because they wanted a different group of politicians delivering speeches. They elected it because they wanted a different political reality. That reality will not be measured by how effectively the government criticizes its enemies. It will be measured by whether institutions become stronger, whether corruption declines, whether justice becomes independent, and whether ordinary citizens experience meaningful improvement in their daily lives.
The most dangerous moment for any political movement comes when it begins confusing its own story with the truth itself. Every successful movement eventually faces the same temptation. It begins by saying that society must change, then slowly begins believing that society must change according to its own definition of what is correct.
That is how political movements that begin with promises of liberation sometimes create new forms of control. The JVP’s greatest challenge is therefore not defeating the old political class. That chapter has already changed. Its greatest challenge is proving that it is not simply another chapter in the same political book.
The people who brought this movement to power are not asking for revolutionary speeches anymore. They are asking for competent government. They are not asking who destroyed the past. They are asking who can build the future. The ultimate paradox of political power is that those who spend decades demanding accountability eventually discover that accountability is the highest price of power itself.
The JVP has reached the point where history is no longer judging what it promised to destroy. History is now watching what it chooses to build.
