A.M.M.Muzammil
COLOMBO
The NPP secured an unprecedented parliamentary majority, triumphing in both the presidential and general elections with a pledge to usher in a new era of justice, fair play, and inclusivity. The Muslim community stood shoulder to shoulder with the party in this historic victory, demonstrating unwavering solidarity.
For the first time in the community’s political history, Muslim women—proudly adorned in hijabs—turned out in remarkable numbers, openly canvassing for support and actively participating in major campaign rallies. Their visible and vocal presence marked a groundbreaking shift, symbolizing both trust in the NPP’s promises and a bold assertion of their political voice.
The Muslim community—long marginalized, traumatized, and systematically dehumanized by successive governments—had, in a moment of fragile hope, placed its deepest aspirations and lingering faith in the newly elected NPP government. For a people whose dignity has been repeatedly trampled, whose voices have echoed unanswered through the corridors of power, it is neither unnatural nor unreasonable to seek redress.
The Muslim community had placed unwavering faith in the NPP, trusting it to uphold justice. Yet, when the government unveiled its inaugural 22-member cabinet, not a single Muslim was included—a stark exclusion, despite their overwhelming support. What followed was not justice, but a cruel irony, a betrayal so sharp it echoed Shakespeare’s lament: “the most unkindest cut of all.”
The absence was not merely an oversight; it was an erasure, a silent dismissal of a community that had stood firmly behind the promise of fairness. The wound was not just in exclusion—but in the shattering of trust.
For the first time since independence, Sri Lanka’s Cabinet stands without a single Muslim minister—a stark departure from historical precedent. Every previous government, without exception, ensured at least one Muslim representative in the cabinet, recognizing the importance of inclusivity and diversity in national leadership. The absence of such representation now sends a troubling message of exclusion. Even Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s government—widely accused of racism—included Ali Sabry in the Cabinet.
If the NPP’s primary criterion for appointing a minister is qualifications, skills, and political acumen, then what does Ramalingam Chandrasekaran— sworn in as Cabinet Minister of Fisheries and Aquatic Resources—bring to the table, beyond his role in securing the Jaffna seat in the general election?
To claim there are no educated Muslim professionals among the newly elected MPs with political acumen is not just disingenuous—it is an outright affront. This is more than a feeble excuse; it is blatantly discriminatory, systematically excluding Sri Lanka’s second largest minority from fair representation.
Appointing ministers from minority communities ensures that these groups have a direct voice at the highest levels of government, enabling policies that more accurately reflect their needs and aspirations. This inclusive approach fosters a deeper sense of belonging and recognition.
In countries like Canada, diverse representation in ministerial roles fosters more equitable policymaking and strengthens trust between minority communities and government institutions. This inclusive governance enhances social cohesion and empowers marginalized groups to actively shape their futures.
No sooner had the Muslim community absorbed the sting of exclusion than another blow fell—this time, reopening wounds still raw from years of institutionalized discrimination. President Anura Dissanayake’s appointment of Dr. Anil Jasinghe as Health Secretary was not merely a bureaucratic decision; it was a searing reminder of the darkest days of the pandemic, when his tenure as Director General of Health Services became synonymous with the cruel mandate of forced cremations.
That policy, a grotesque violation of both faith and dignity, had etched itself into collective memory as a symbol of state-sanctioned marginalization. Now, with his elevation, the ghosts of that anguish return—haunting a community that has carried the weight of demonization since the end of the war in 2009.
History, it seems, repeats itself—not as tragedy, but as betrayal. Blow after crushing blow!
President Anura Kumara Dissanayake rose to power championing justice and institutional reform, with a explicit commitment to repeal Sri Lanka’s controversial Prevention of Terrorism Act (PTA). Yet in a troubling reversal, his administration has weaponized this same legislation against a 22-year-old Muslim youth, arresting him for the non-violent act of displaying a pro-Palestinian sticker—an offense demonstrably unconnected to terrorism.
The disproportionate enforcement in this case has not only violated fundamental rights but also jeopardized the young man’s employment prospects and eroded public trust in the NPP’s governance. It highlights a troubling misuse of counterterrorism measures for minor offenses, deepening the alienation of marginalized communities and casting doubt on the administration’s commitment to reform.
While the NPP government grandly proclaims there is no place for racism in Sri Lanka, it remains conspicuously silent on the Muslim community’s ongoing struggle to reclaim two historic mosques—the 120-year-old Mahara Prison Mosque and the Ekala Jumma Mosque—both forcibly seized by state agencies and closed to worshippers.
These sacred spaces, once vibrant centers of faith, now stand as stark symbols of institutionalized discrimination. The Muslim community, denied its fundamental right to worship, watches and waits: Will the NPP honor its rhetoric with action? Will it redress this injustice and restore these mosques to their rightful purpose?
The answer will reveal whether the government’s commitment to equality is merely performative—or a promise it intends to keep.
In the 2025 local government elections, the NPP secured a total of 4.5 million votes, a significant decline from the 6.8 million votes received in the 2024 Parliamentary elections. This represents a loss of 2.3 million votes within just six months.
The sharp drop in support can be attributed, in part, to the NPP’s perceived stubbornness and intransigence—particularly its exclusion of Muslim cabinet members—alongside other factors that alienated the Muslim community. As a result, Muslim voters overwhelmingly shifted their support to rival parties, a trend clearly reflected in the Eastern Province and other Muslim-majority electorates.
It is high time the NPP conducts a thorough, introspective postmortem of its declining support among Muslim voters and begins treating the Muslim community with the respect and equality they deserve. The Muslim community must not be exploited as mere “karapincha leaves”—valued for their utility only to be discarded afterward.
As Abraham Lincoln wisely observed, “You can fool some of the people all of the time, and all of the people some of the time, but you cannot fool all of the people all of the time.” The NPP would do well to heed these words and rebuild trust through genuine inclusivity and equitable representation.
