By Adolf
The Government’s response to Cyclone Ditwah has triggered unprecedented public anger—and rightly so. Sri Lankans expected leadership, coordination, and urgency. Instead, they witnessed delay, confusion, and a disastrous lack of preparedness that cost lives, livelihoods, and public confidence. From the very outset, the administration failed to grasp the scale of the crisis, and by the time meaningful action was taken, the damage was already beyond control.
At the heart of the criticism is the appointment of a Defence Secretary who lacks both the command experience of a full force and the institutional respect required to lead a national disaster response. A catastrophe of this magnitude demands crisis-management expertise, battlefield discipline, and the trust of the armed forces. Instead, Sri Lanka was left with an official ill-equipped to coordinate multi-agency responses or inspire confidence among field officers. This weakness became apparent within hours of the cyclone’s landfall.
President Anura Kumara Dissanayake further undermined the national response by sending two of the most unpopular ministers—Sunil Handunnetti and Wasantha Samarasinghe—to the frontline. To the public, their presence resembled a political performance rather than genuine leadership. Their inability to offer clarity, direction, or reassurance deepened national frustration. For many Sri Lankans, it was a tragic side-show in the midst of a national emergency. PM Harin handling the press conference with all smiles showed similar disrespect.
Cyclone Ditwah has now claimed at least 153 lives, with 191 people still missing. The scale of destruction continues to rise. The JVP/NPP Government finds itself in a political storm far more severe than the cyclone itself. Public sympathy—once the NPP’s strongest asset—is evaporating. A government that came to power promising competence and integrity cannot afford such failures, especially during its first true national test.
One of the most damning shortcomings was the Government’s disregard of early warnings. Meteorological authorities reportedly alerted the administration as early as 12 November, urging the establishment of a joint preparedness mechanism. The Director General of the Department of Meteorology even reiterated these warnings on television weeks before the cyclone intensified. The Government, however, assumed the storm would pass with minimal impact. This complacency mirrors the infamous 2019 admission that authorities knew of an impending Easter Sunday attack but underestimated its scale. Sri Lankans are now experiencing a painful déjà vu.
A further failure was the lack of coordination among State institutions. Declaring Friday the 28th a public holiday—without clearly identifying essential services—resulted in administrative paralysis. Grama Niladharis, divisional secretaries, and key officials were unavailable when the public needed them most. In heavily affected areas, some divisional secretaries even refused emergency procurement out of fear of future corruption accusations. Evacuations were delayed, and critical supplies—water, food, medicine—were not procured in time.
As the State machinery stalled, ordinary citizens stepped in. Communities formed volunteer teams, prepared meals, provided transport, rescued families, and offered medical assistance. Sri Lankans demonstrated unity and compassion while the Government struggled.
To make matters worse, authorities failed to disseminate warnings in all three national languages. Tamil-speaking communities received vital updates far too late—an unnecessary and unacceptable breach of the country’s trilingual communication policy.
President AKD issued the gazette naming essential services only by midday on the 29th—long after the crisis had peaked.
Cyclone Ditwah exposed more than a gap in preparedness; it revealed a profound leadership vacuum. If the Government does not act swiftly, transparently, and decisively, it risks losing the trust that brought it into power. People are running out of patience with President Anura’s media theatrics, attacks on the opposition, and the remanding of individuals as political optics.
The private sector figures within the administration—Hans Wijesuriya, Sarath Ganegoda, Arjuna Herath, Pravir Samarasinghe, Duminda Hulangamuwa, and Yosef Haniff—must now lead from the front. If they fail to assert competence and discipline in governance, they too will face the public’s wrath in the days ahead.
