Independence with unity

As we mark our Independence Day once again, for many citizens this anniversary has, in recent years, become another ritual stripped of real meaning. Flags are raised, speeches delivered, and parades held, but beneath the ceremony lies a deep sense of disillusionment. Independence, for a nation, is not merely the absence of colonial rule but also it is the presence of dignity, equality, opportunity, and justice for all its people. On these counts, Sri Lanka continues to fall painfully short of its true potential.

Decades of corruption, economic mismanagement, and a brutal civil war have left lasting scars. Two generations were lost to violence, fear, and missed opportunity. Institutions were weakened, trust in governance eroded, and divisions hardened along ethnic, religious, and political lines. Rather than a day of celebration, Independence Day has increasingly become a moment of reflection tinged with frustration and a reminder of what could have been, and what still has not been achieved.

Against this backdrop, the election of President Anura Kumara Dissanayake, along with his Government’s overwhelming mandate in Parliament, was widely seen as a turning point. It was meant to break the monotony of failed promises and recycled leadership, and to herald an era of meaningful change. The scale of the electoral mandate, cutting across the North and the South, was a rare and powerful signal that the people were speaking in a single voice, demanding transformation, accountability, and a new political culture.

That hope, however, remains only partially fulfilled. While not everything has been a disappointment, the monumental change many expected has yet to materialise. Structural reforms have been slow, and the deep-rooted divisions that once dragged the country into war continue to persist. The grievances of minority communities, long acknowledged but rarely addressed with sincerity, remain unresolved. Reconciliation cannot be postponed indefinitely, nor can it be reduced to symbolic gestures that fail to alter lived realities.

Acts such as signing the national anthem in two languages, while important symbols of inclusion, ring hollow in the absence of meaningful systemic change. True unity cannot be manufactured through ceremony alone. It must be built through policies that ensure equality before the law, fair access to resources, genuine political representation, and respect for cultural and linguistic diversity. Without these, symbols risk becoming performative, offering the appearance of progress without its substance.

Independence must mean that every citizen regardless of ethnicity, religion, or region feels an equal sense of belonging to this country. It must mean that the wounds of the past are addressed through truth, justice, and reconciliation, not silence or selective memory. It must mean that governance serves the people rather than entrenched interests, and that corruption and impunity are confronted rather than tolerated.

If Independence Day is to regain its meaning, President Dissanayake and his administration must act decisively on the mandate given to them by the people. That mandate was not merely to govern differently, but to govern courageously and to dismantle systems that perpetuate inequality and division, and to replace them with institutions worthy of a modern, pluralistic democracy.

A truly independent Sri Lanka would be one where its people are united not by enforced conformity, but by shared ownership of their future. Only then can Independence Day become more than a date on the calendar, becoming instead a genuine celebration of a nation finally at peace with itself, and proud to call this land its own.