-By Our Special Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -03.Nov.2024, 10.20 pm) Ranil Wickremesinghe, a man who wears his confidence like a second suit, walked into a recent diplomatic luncheon ready to charm and impress. After all, he’s Sri Lanka’s “economic savior,” as he might tell you, and an advocate for his own self-styled brand of governance. But what he got instead was an unexpected and, some say, deserved “diplomatic smack” from an ambassador not interested in fairy tales.
Sources at the gathering report that Ranil began with a casual, modest boast about his achievements over the past two years. Or, as modestly as he could, anyway. “I have led this country to recovery,” he reportedly said, looking as though he were picturing his face on a future currency note. “When I took the helm, the nation was in tatters. But look where we are now. We’re recovering, there’s hope, and I’ve had to make all the tough decisions.”
The diplomat, respected for her shrewd and often unsparing assessments, was initially seen nodding politely. But when Ranil started to wax lyrical about his accomplishments—crediting himself as the mastermind who averted a crisis and rescued millions from hunger—the diplomat reportedly felt compelled to interrupt. “That’s all well and good,” her began. “But why, then, did you declare the country out of bankruptcy just three weeks before the election in September?”
Ranil, it seems, was taken aback. This wasn’t the response he expected, nor the audience he had hoped to win over with tales of his “visionary” leadership. The diplomat, however, wasn’t finished.
“Let’s not pretend here,” the diplomat continued. “Everyone in the international community knows that your claims didn’t match up to reality. We understand it was an election season, but to declare the country financially secure so close to the polls? That’s… questionable, to say the least.”
For a moment, a hush fell over the table as attendees turned their gaze towards Ranil, awaiting his response. A diplomat from a most power country tried to break the tension by rearranging their cutlery, but even that metallic clink couldn’t cut through the silence.
In his usual fashion, Ranil recovered and offered a smooth response. “It was all part of the plan with the IMF,” he explained, leaning in, as if sharing a closely-guarded secret with a confidant. “We needed the people to believe in recovery. Sometimes leadership is about inspiring hope.”
The diplomat, unimpressed, reportedly chuckled. “Hope is one thing,” they replied. “But misleading the public is quite another. Let’s keep the two separate.”
For those in attendance, it was as if the room temperature had dropped a few degrees. Ranil, typically quick with a rebuttal, was visibly thrown off. As he gathered his thoughts, the diplomat went on to deliver what one guest described as “a master class in diplomatic truth-telling.”
The diplomat proceeded to remind Ranil that the world was watching Sri Lanka’s economic crisis with sympathy and a willingness to help. But, they added, “You can’t expect the international community to take you seriously when you make bold claims that don’t hold up.” This was no ordinary reproach; it was the kind of pointed truth that, according to witnesses, had Ranil visibly unsettled.
Then came a warning that Ranil was certainly not expecting: “And let’s also keep from suggesting that the current NPP government is on the brink of collapse, and linking NPP with recent bus crash of the KDU students. President Anura Kumar’s administration has been showing real progress, attracting Western investment and building partnerships. If Sri Lanka is truly on the path to recovery, it’s because the groundwork is being laid now. Not from convenient declarations three weeks before elections.”
The reminder hit close to home, not just for Ranil but for those who had supported his administration’s narrative. After all, the IMF negotiations, the careful coaxing of foreign investors, and the seemingly endless stream of reassuring statements had all been part of a carefully orchestrated performance. But here was a reminder, from one of the international community’s respected figures, that performances only go so far.
And if that wasn’t enough, the diplomat moved on to an even more sensitive topic. There were rumors, he pointed out, of pending investigations. Whispers in the international circles about potential probes into past misconduct, human rights abuses, and a history Ranil would prefer to keep out of the limelight. “If these investigations come to light,” the diplomat suggested, “it could affect your ability to enter Western countries. This isn’t something to take lightly.”
The room, by now, was spellbound. Here was a man who had been planning to use the luncheon as an opportunity to talk up his accomplishments, only to find himself under a diplomatic microscope, reminded of truths he would rather overlook.
When the diplomat finished speaking, the room lingered in silence. Ranil, once effusive and full of tales about his leadership, had gone quiet. It was, by all accounts, a first.
Of course, the diplomatic world has its own etiquette and subtle language, and no one openly “slaps” another person in such settings. But, as one attendee later said, “In the world of diplomacy, a well-placed truth delivered at the right moment can land harder than any slap.”
Ranil managed to finish his meal, but observers noted that he ate in smaller, more contemplative bites than before. Those hoping for a lively debate or a hearty defense were left disappointed, as Ranil seemed to understand that anything he said now would only deepen the hole he had found himself in.
Afterward, the “diplomatic slap” became the talk of Colombo’s social circles. Had Ranil learned a lesson? Would he soften his rhetoric, embrace a more measured approach, or at the very least, avoid declaring victory before the battles are won? Only time would tell.
But if there was one takeaway from the afternoon, it was that even presidents need to be mindful of their narratives. The international community, as it turns out, has a long memory and a sharp ear for stories that don’t quite add up. And for Ranil, who has always viewed himself as a master of diplomatic maneuvering, this was a lesson that words alone won’t carry the weight of a country’s hopes and struggles.
As the luncheon came to a close, Ranil’s aides quickly ushered him out, though one could almost imagine the ghost of that diplomat’s words following him down the halls: “Remember, hope is important. But truth, Ranil—that’s where real leadership lies.”
The stories quickly spread, but the lesson lingers: in a world of polished words, sometimes it’s the blunt truth that resonates most.
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by (2024-11-03 17:01:39)
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