The UNP’s terminal-stage crisis goes digital

There is something darkly comic about watching the United National Party attempt to “vibe with the youth” while stubbornly refusing to embrace anything genuinely new. The launch of the party’s ‘Smart UNP Digital Drive’, ostensibly aimed at attracting younger members, is merely the latest episode in a three-decade saga of missed opportunities, hollow gestures, and institutional self-delusion. As with almost everything the UNP has done over the past 30 years, this too has landed with a dull thud.

Nothing quite captures the irony of this initiative like the image of Ranil Wickremesinghe, political lifer, serial election loser, and the very embodiment of the party’s stagnation, attempting to sell “youthful energy” and “digital transformation” to a generation that has known nothing but his dominance over the party resulting in its absolute demise. If hope had an opposite, it would be the sight of a geriatric leader who refuses to relinquish control lecturing young people about innovation and the future.

Speaking at the launch, Wickremesinghe claimed the ‘Smart UNP’ initiative would transform the party into a “Digital Party,” capable of communicating effectively with younger generations and preparing future leadership to handle emerging technological and global challenges. The UNP unfortunately does indeed suffer from a communications problem, but that is not its core crisis. The real issue is far more fundamental, that it has nothing of substance left to communicate.

The collapse of the UNP from the most formidable political force in the country to near-total electoral irrelevance is not the result of poor messaging or outdated platforms. It is the direct consequence of a catastrophic failure of leadership and vision. Wickremesinghe’s decades-long refusal to step aside has strangled internal renewal, alienated the electorate, and drained the party of credibility. No digital campaign can paper over that reality.

Equally damaging has been the barely concealed disdain Wickremesinghe has long displayed toward the electorate, whom he appears to regard as either too simple to understand his “highbrow” policies or easily manipulated through patronising promises. His infamous pledge to give all schoolboys gold bracelets rings hollow not because young people lack humour, but because they are politically astute enough to recognise cynicism when they see it.

Today’s youth are not apathetic or naive. If anything, they are more politically aware than previous generations, acutely conscious of how eight decades of political mismanagement by figures like Wickremesinghe have robbed them of opportunity, stability, and hope. They understand that political power is not something handed over based on vibes, branding exercises, or social media campaigns. It is a matter of public trust.

A party that has refused to reform, clung to the same leadership for over 30 years, and visibly run out of ideas does not claw its way back into relevance through gimmicks dressed up as innovation. The youth of this country are not waiting for better hashtags; they are waiting for accountability, courage, and genuine change.

If the UNP is serious about appealing to the next generation, the prescription is painfully obvious. The geriatrics who have made careers out of hoarding political power must retire—and stay retired. Any hope of resurrection requires a clean break from the old boys’ club elite that has already been decisively rejected by the electorate, youth included. Until then, the UNP’s digital drives will remain what they truly are, a tragic comedy staged by a party unwilling to accept that the future cannot be led by those who refuse to let go of the past.