-By Geo Political Correspondent
(Lanka-e-News -29.March.2025, 11.20 PM) Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi is no stranger to grand promises. With his characteristic flair, he arrived in Sri Lanka, spoke of friendship, development, and a bright future for the Indian Tamils in the hill country—only for reality to tell a different tale. The promised upliftment remains a distant dream, and Colombo is beginning to wonder: is Modi a leader of action, or just another politician who speaks in poetic election slogans and leaves them behind like footprints in the sand?
Let’s start with the most pressing concern—the plight of the Indian Tamils in Sri Lanka’s upcountry. This is a community with a long and painful history. Brought in by the British to work on tea plantations, their descendants remain trapped in economic and social stagnation. They are Sri Lankan citizens by nationality, but their identity remains shackled to their Indian roots. And what has changed for them? Not much.
When Modi visited, he assured them better housing, schools, healthcare facilities, and sports complexes. The result? A handful of shanty one-bedroom houses, symbolic rather than substantial. These tea workers continue to live in what can only be described as modern-day bonded labor conditions—ironically, many of these tea plantations are now managed by Indian companies. The Indian government promised to be their savior, but it seems their welfare was little more than a footnote in Modi’s grand regional ambitions.
For a leader who prides himself on strong governance and decisive action, this is a glaring failure. But then again, Sri Lanka is not unfamiliar with India’s habit of making promises only to watch them gather dust.
Then there is the case of Katchatheevu Island—a thorny issue in India-Sri Lanka relations. During the last Indian parliamentary elections, Modi and his foreign minister, Dr. S. Jaishankar, loudly proclaimed their intention to reclaim Katchatheevu from Sri Lanka. Nationalist sentiment soared. The BJP rallied its Tamil Nadu base with fiery speeches.
But once the votes were counted and the political dust settled, what happened? Modi and Jaishankar quickly retreated, brushing off the issue as mere campaign rhetoric. The message was clear: Katchatheevu was never really on their agenda—it was just another tool in their electoral playbook.
Now, Indian fishermen who stray into Sri Lankan waters find themselves arrested, despite Modi’s reassurances. The proposed GPS-based transmitter to distinguish Indian from Sri Lankan boats seems more like a bureaucratic distraction than a real solution. The Tamil Nadu fishermen feel betrayed, and Sri Lanka, watching from the sidelines, sees this for what it is—India’s consistent pattern of making grand claims for domestic consumption and then quietly stepping away when confronted with geopolitical realities.
As if these diplomatic missteps weren’t enough, there remains another demand hanging over Modi’s visit—the long-awaited apology from India for the atrocities committed by the Indian Peacekeeping Force (IPKF) during their intervention in Sri Lanka in the late 1980s.
The scars of that period remain fresh in the memories of many Sri Lankan Tamils. The IPKF, sent under the Indo-Sri Lanka Accord, was supposed to be a stabilizing force. Instead, their mission turned into a bloodbath. Allegations of human rights violations, including rape and civilian massacres, remain unanswered. Sri Lankan Tamils in the north and east continue to demand an apology, but Modi’s government remains silent.
India, which frequently lectures other nations on human rights, seems unwilling to confront its own past. But history has a way of catching up, and Colombo will not forget so easily.
Sri Lanka, despite its grievances, still recognizes the importance of maintaining good ties with India. As Modi lands in Colombo, he will be welcomed with smiles, handshakes, and ceremonial fanfare. But behind the diplomatic pleasantries lies a hard truth—India cannot take Sri Lanka for granted.
Modi, famous for his yoga skills and body stretches, might need to stretch his memory a bit more to recall his unfulfilled promises. After all, he is no longer just the Chief Minister of Gujarat, where populist rhetoric could be shrugged off. As the Prime Minister of the world’s largest democracy, his words carry weight, and his failures have consequences.
Sri Lankans are patient, but they are not fools. If Modi continues to treat his commitments as mere political slogans, he will face protests, boycotts, and public outrage on his future visits. The Indian government may be Sri Lanka’s closest ally, but that does not mean Sri Lankans will remain silent forever.
Yet, for all his missteps, Modi does have one undeniable skill—branding. He is, after all, the man who turned his humble past as a chaiwala (tea-seller) into a political advantage. So here’s a suggestion: if nothing else, let Modi at least become Sri Lanka’s best tea ambassador.
Sri Lanka produces some of the finest tea in the world, and who better to promote it than a Prime Minister whose life began selling chai on railway platforms? Imagine the global marketing potential—Modi, standing before the world, saying, “I have visited Sri Lanka, and I tell you, the best tea in the world comes from here!”
It would be a win-win: Sri Lanka gets free marketing, and Modi gets to rebrand himself as the world’s most powerful chaiwala. Because if he continues breaking promises, that may be the only legacy he has left.
Narendra Modi remains one of Sri Lanka’s most influential and closely watched international figures. His government’s relationship with Colombo is vital for regional stability, economic cooperation, and diplomatic ties. But his repeated failures to follow through on commitments—whether to Indian Tamils, Tamil Nadu fishermen, or the broader Sri Lankan public—are eroding his credibility.
Sri Lanka does not need empty words. It needs action.
So, Prime Minister Modi, welcome to Colombo. You are our neighbor, our friend, and an important regional leader. But leadership is not measured by promises alone—it is measured by keeping them.
Because if you don’t, Sri Lanka will remember. And next time, the welcome might not be so warm.
-By Geo Political Correspondent
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by (2025-03-29 20:05:08)
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