By Adolf
Sunil Handunnetti’s political journey is one of the most puzzling reversals in recent Sri Lankan politics. There was a time—not too long ago—when Sunil was widely respected across party lines, admired even by those who disagreed with him ideologically. During his tenure as Chairman of the Committee on Public Enterprises (COPE), he earned a reputation as a diligent, fearless parliamentarian who took his responsibilities seriously. In that role, he exposed waste, excesses, and blatant mismanagement across several state-owned enterprises. His work put immense pressure on SOEs to present their accounts on time and adhere to basic standards of financial discipline.
For many Sri Lankans, Sunil Handunnetti symbolized the rare possibility of principled politics. He often overshadowed even the more prominent figures of his party, including Anura Kumara Dissanayake. His investigative style, command over facts, and unrelenting pursuit of accountability made him a household name. When he lost his parliamentary seat in the 2020 General Election, many attributed the defeat to political maneuvering by the Rajapaksa camp, suggesting that his boldness in exposing corruption had made him a target. Public sentiment at the time leaned towards sympathy; people felt a genuinely capable parliamentarian had been unfairly ousted.
Five Years Later
Fast forward five years, and the contrast could not be more striking. Sunil Handunnetti’s performance at a prestigious platform like the Economic Forum left the country stunned, but for all the wrong reasons. His lack of preparation, poor articulation, confused arguments, and especially his struggle with English communication did irreversible damage to his credibility. Recently Sunil Handunnetti, as the Industries Minister, made a bizarre statement in claiming Sri Lanka won a Nobel prize for tea, a significant slip-up that was widely criticized.In an era when public expectations are higher and political leaders are under constant scrutiny, such a performance was not merely an embarrassment—it became a turning point in how he was perceived.
Political Joker
Within days, he became the target of ridicule on social media and in political circles. Memes circulated rapidly. Critics began comparing him to A.J. Ranasinghe, the former State Minister under President Premadasa who became known more for theatrics and comedic blunders than governance. The comparison, unthinkable a decade ago, reflects just how far Sunil’s stature has fallen. Today, every public appearance risks becoming another round of mockery. When he speaks, people brace for a gaffe; when he pauses, they expect a blunder. The transformation from a respected watchdog of public finance to a figure of political amusement has been swift and savage.
This episode should concern the JVP/NPP leadership. A movement that campaigned heavily on competence, discipline, and a promise to do things differently cannot afford leaders who appear unprepared or unserious. Even President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has begun facing growing criticism on social media for inconsistency, tone-deaf remarks, and ill-timed jokes. If the NPP fails to get its act together, they risk sliding down the same credibility trap that consumed the Gotabaya administration—rising to power with massive public trust, only to lose it through poor performance and communication failures. The public is closely evaluating how the government handles the ongoing cyclone disaster, and already accusations of incompetence are emerging. Sajith Premadasa telling the government to “hand over and go” reflects a growing narrative that the administration is losing control of public confidence. Sunil Handunnetti’s fall from grace is not just about one man. It is a warning to the entire government: competence is not optional, and credibility once lost is almost impossible to regain.
