UNP at 80

The United National Party, which marks its 80th anniversary this week, was once the grand old party of Sri Lankan politics. Founded in 1946 by D. S. Senanayake through the amalgamation of three right-leaning, pro-Dominion political forces, the UNP was not merely another political party but the principal vehicle through which Ceylon moved towards self-government and, ultimately, independence.

In the first parliamentary elections of 1947, the UNP emerged as the dominant force and formed the government that guided Ceylon into independence in 1948, with D. S. Senanayake becoming the country’s first Prime Minister. What followed was an extraordinary succession of political giants, D. S. Senanayake, his son Dudley Senanayake, Sir John Kotalawala, J. R. Jayewardene and Ranasinghe Premadasa. Each, in his own way, left an indelible mark on the country’s political history.

Yet the UNP that celebrates its 80th anniversary today bears almost no resemblance to the party that once dominated Sri Lanka. Its decline over the past three decades has been nothing short of astonishing. A party that once commanded governments and shaped the political destiny of the country has been reduced to a political shell. Its leadership has become disconnected from the electorate to the point of loathing, its organisational machinery, and its capacity to articulate a compelling vision for the future appears almost non-existent.

The tragedy is not simply electoral defeat. Political parties can lose elections and return. The tragedy of the UNP is that repeated defeats have failed to produce self critique or renewal. Instead of allowing a new generation to emerge, the party’s leadership has clung to power, seemingly unable or unwilling to recognise that political survival sometimes requires political succession.

This is particularly tragic because Sri Lanka desperately needs the political space the UNP once occupied. A credible centre-right party, committed to economic liberalism while capable of appealing across ethnic and religious divisions, could provide a natural counterweight to a government pursuing a more socialist economic orientation. Such a party could offer voters a genuine alternative rather than merely another version of the politics of patronage.

Instead, the UNP has increasingly come to symbolise many of the very practices that have discredited Sri Lankan politics ranging from patronage, personality-driven politics, political expediency and the willingness to compromise principle for power.

The events of 2022 represented perhaps the lowest point. The manner in which the UNP leadership secured political power amid the collapse of the Rajapaksa government, despite the prevailing opposition consensus and without a meaningful electoral mandate of its own, exposed just how far the party had travelled from its historic roots. What might once have been regarded as political ingenuity instead came to be seen by many as the ultimate expression of a party desperate to retain relevance at any cost.

There is little reason today to expect the UNP, in its present form, to stage a dramatic revival. Parties do not survive merely because of their history, famous names or historic achievements. They survive because they renew themselves, listen to voters and offer a credible vision of tomorrow.

The UNP has failed that test.  Its 80th anniversary should therefore be less a celebration than a moment of reflection. Sri Lanka should remember what the UNP once represented but also learn from how it collapsed.

For a party that produced political giants and once stood at the centre of the nation’s destiny, its present condition is a profound political tragedy. Oh, what a tragedy for the party of giants.