My mother carries a diary of my grandmother, a poignant reminder of the sacrifices made in the name of public service. It details how my grandmother, a reasonably wealthy woman, was left with so little after her husband, my grandfather, had devoted his life to his community and country.
Though he was a self-made man, a teacher, a Principal, a scholar, and a Member of Parliament with an immense reputation for virtue, my grandfather left nothing for his family, not even enough money to afford his own casket. His service was total, but its cost was borne by his family. My mother keeps that diary, I believe, as a reminder that there is no glory in blind service at the expense of one’s family.
This anecdotal history seems to be a template for the new Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP)/National People’s Power (NPP) Government’s attitude towards public service. It reinforces the dangerous myth that public service is the most noble cause and can only be fulfilled by one who sacrifices everything.
In this view, public servants should not be rewarded for their immense effort and power. It’s a belief deeply embedded in the psyche of people like Anura Kumara Dissanayake and the JVP, whose recent success has come after a long road of blood, sweat, and tears. This narrative, while powerful, is a pseudo-free public service that takes away all accountability for a leader’s actions.
Public service is not a part-time passion project; it is a full-time, serious job of nation-building. It is a dangerous myth that everyone works for free. Only a handful of individuals are financially independent enough to do so. What about the rest?
When public leaders are at the mercy of businessmen, their decisions become tilted towards business agendas, not the nation’s best interests. It’s a fundamental management principle: not paying people a reasonable remuneration is a bad policy. Expecting those who hold immense power to work for an altruistic purpose is simply a terrible policy.
I have learnt this lesson firsthand. Despite being a third-generation politician, I came from the corporate world. My career was built on the principles of financial integrity and professionalism. When I entered politics, I was determined to conduct my public life with the same standards, ensuring I earned an honest living to support my family.
The JVP’s narrative, however, painted everyone in the opposing camp as rogues, and even Balasuriya, a family name tied to public service, lost an election over this powerful narrative.
The emotional toll of that period was immense. As a loving husband and a father to two beautiful young daughters, I could never justify sacrificing their future on the altar of a political myth. My story isn’t one of glory, but a simple truth: one must be financially secure to serve without compromise.
I have heard Lee Kuan Yew’s argument about the need to pay public representatives well to attract the best talent. While this might not be politically palatable in Sri Lanka, the core principle holds true. Evidence suggests that inadequate salaries lead to more corruption, not less.
We cannot expect people to dedicate their lives to the betterment of the country if they are not provided the basic means to survive. Reasonable remuneration is required so that people who have a passion for public service can have an opportunity to dedicate their lives to the country.
However, salaries alone will not combat corruption. It is just as important to establish effective monitoring systems and eliminate the impunity that many politicians and people in high positions have enjoyed for so long in Sri Lanka.
Ultimately, politics reflects society at large. As I have heard from my father, who served as a politician himself, “You cannot expect an island of virtue in an ocean of corruption.”
Before we jump on the bandwagon and argue that MPs should not get pensions or salaries, we should ask ourselves honestly what sacrifices we are willing to make in our own careers and for how long, at the expense of our families.
*The writer is a former State Minister of Foreign Affairs. He is a third-generation politician and a former corporate executive.
*The article was published on The Sunday Morning.
