Sri Lanka’s aragalaya: The role of a citizen movement during crisis

On June 9, 2022, in Sri Lanka’s commercial capital, Colombo, thousands of protestors marched into the President’s official residence demanding his resignation. The swarms of anti-government protestors shouted slogans such as “Go Home Gota”, a spin on then President Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s name, and a reaction to the country’s ongoing economic crisis. 

Between 2021-22, Sri Lanka faced its first sovereign debt default and worst economic crisis since gaining independence in 1948 from colonial Britain. Corruption, poor policy decisions, and the mismanagement of public funds were some of the main reasons for the crisis, made worse by the government’s handling of the growing challenges. As the economic crisis reached a peak, the Central Bank governor used the last remaining foreign exchange reserves to repay debt rather than default, convinced that the island did not need external support. With no more funds to import essentials (food, fuel, and medicine), the country endured food inflation, shortages of fuel, cooking gas, and medicine, electricity cuts, and reached an economic standstill. Against this backdrop, Sri Lankans began protesting. Silent protests and vigils soon grew into an almost islandwide movement referred to as the “people’s protest” or the “aragalaya” (the struggle) demanding and leading to the resignation of President Gotabaya Rajapaksa. 

Since then, the Sri Lankan economy has painfully shifted towards recovery — a culmination of several factors including changed leadership within its state financial institutions, financial assurances from its foreign creditors, and a reform plan by the International Monetary Fund (IMF). However, the people’s protest played a crucial role in pushing back against an indifferent government and demanding leadership change. This article explores the people’s movement to attribute its success to a few key elements: (1) the inseparable relationship between the economics and politics of the country; (2) the participation by its privileged and main electoral voting blocs; and (3) the creativity and ingenuity of the protest movement. 

Background 

For an island of 22 million sitting below India’s southernmost tip, Sri Lanka has seen a wave of crises. From 1983 to 2009, the country experienced a civil war that divided its majority Sinhala Buddhist population and minority Tamils. Following this, extremist factions committed communal violence against its minority Muslim population, and in 2019, a local ISIS-inspired extremist group attacked minority Christians on Easter Sunday. Sri Lanka’s fault lines are ethnic, religious, and linguistic. 

Politically, the Rajapaksas dominated politics for most of the period between 2005 to 2022. Sri Lankans hailed President Mahinda Rajapaksa a “national hero” for ending the war in 2009, despite reports of severe war crimes. Rajapaksa denied accusations of human rights violations, introduced an era of censorship and forced disappearances, and soon became synonymous with nepotism, corruption, unsustainable borrowing and overspending. The Rajapaksa’s corruption reached blatant levels, even costing the family the 2015 election (when citizens shifted towards an opposition coalition). However, their promise of security and safety and the need to step in as a “strong leader” always held sway among the post-war population (while others simply benefited from the political family’s corrupt and racist policies). 

In 2019, his brother and former Defense Secretary Gotabaya Rajapaksa was elected President, while Mahinda Rajapaksa continued as Prime Minister. Gotabaya Rajapaksa initiated a series of unfeasible policy decisions that exacerbated existing cracks in the economy, compounded by the COVID-19 pandemic and leading to the economic crisis.

The Politics of Economics 

The economic crisis and the subsequent protests were a citizens’ awakening to the full extent of power enjoyed by the Rajapaksas, and the realization that the economy could not be separated from political corruption. The crisis was a result of policy and political decisions both recent and decades old. 

During post-war Sri Lanka, against a backdrop of declining concessional funding and pressure from the international community to investigate war crimes, then President Mahinda Rajapaksa began several ”white elephant” development projects. These projects offered minimal value to the country but maintained the facade of development and allowed the political family to continue gaining favor among their constituents. These projects were also often the result of unsolicited bids and failed feasibility studies, while contributing to Sri Lanka’s debt accumulation. 

Meanwhile, just before the economic crisis, in early 2020, President Gotabaya Rajapaksa enacted tax cuts as part of an election promise (although Sri Lanka struggled with low tax collection) and a sudden chemical fertilizer ban that severely affected agriculture. Even at the height of the crisis, the Rajapaksa government remained in denial about the magnitude of the issue and refused to enact reform, unwilling to seek help from “Western institutions”, or give in to protest demands and resign. Many months later, new Central Bank Governor Nandalal Weerasinghe (crucial to later reviving Sri Lanka’s economy) would publicly state that the extremity of the crisis could have been avoided if the country had simply approached the IMF for a bailout sooner. 

The crisis went beyond an economic issue to strip bare the indifferent government, flailing and failing to undo years of harmful policies. The unbearable consequences of the crisis forced many citizens to recognize that the Rajapaksa’s racist and divisive policies (issues that minority populations, activists, journalists, and economists had been amplifying for many years) could have ripple effects that reached them. 

Participation Privilege

Throughout the country’s history, Sri Lankans have had many reasons to come together in protest. Despite state repression and police brutality, minority communities have historically protested forced disappearances and land grabs by the military and demanded justice against targeted violence. Activists have challenged discriminatory laws, while workers have demanded increased wages and an end to labor exploitation. However, similar to conflicts in the past, the protests have often stayed within markers of identity or class, led by and limited to the people most affected by the issue. 

Unexpectedly, the aragalaya, a grassroots, organic, and voluntary movement stemming from protests and funded by donations, witnessed large-scale participation across ethnic, religious, and linguistic lines over several months in 2022. Key reasons for the sheer scale and willingness of protestors to defy a government popular for suppressing activists were the severity of the crisis and the participation of privileged groups. 

In 2022, as Sri Lanka’s inflation reached 69.8% (compared to its single-digit standard), driven largely by its food inflation soaring at 94.9%, debt repayments piled up, and the country’s depleted reserves brought to a pause its essential imports of food, medicine, and fuel. Any available food and medicine were limited and expensive – eggs, milk, and meat were a luxury for families surviving on two or fewer meals a day, while long-drawn electricity cuts reached a peak of 13 hours daily. Queues for fuel and cooking gas stretched out across the streets for days as households began sourcing firewood to cook. By July 2022, 38% of households were considered food insecure, and the government reported an increase in child undernutrition for the first time in six years. The crisis spread quickly and widely while deeply affecting poor and vulnerable communities. 

Queues for fuel and cooking gas stretched across streets for days. Photo credits: AFP/Getty Images

As a response to the broad economic crisis, a diverse group of Sri Lankans joined in protest, including more than just the most affected economic groups. In particular, the participation of the majority Sinhalese population and the middle class was vital to its momentum. The Sinhalese make up roughly two-thirds of Sri Lanka’s population. Unlike previous protests based on minority demands, the participation of the majority Sinhala population in the aragalaya, while inviting to its minority communities, significantly contributed to the movement’s ability to sustain itself over several months. 

The aragalaya also set itself apart from previous protests with its considerable middle-class participation. A study by researchers Yolani Fernando and Umesh Moramudali points to the role of the middle class, which has become Sri Lanka’s most critical voting bloc. As the government’s model of low taxes and high energy subsidies supported middle-class consumption, the government in turn enjoyed popularity with this growing segment. The eventual middle-class participation didn’t just offer numbers to the movement, but tipped the scales and signaled to the government that its most devoted voter group was unhappy.

The Aragalaya 

The protests became a dynamic and inclusive space of learning, creativity, and community, requiring participation and presence, and driven by digital activism. The primary organizers, young people, mainly students, along with activists, trade unions, and some opposition political party members, occupied and designated parts of the protest site. Along with placards, chants, and catchy slogans, the site included a community kitchen to feed protestors, a makeshift library with books about Sri Lanka and its history, a legal aid clinic, a medical clinic, teach-ins by historians and academics educating the public, educational film screenings, and sessions with religious leaders representing all faiths. 

The protest site was dubbed “GotaGoGama” roughly translating to the village demanding Gota to leave, with Gota a nickname for the President and “Gama” meaning “village”. Photo credits: Nazly Ahmed

Tents and a makeshift library at the site. Photo credits (left to right): Nazly Ahmed and The Asia Foundation

Teach-in. Photo credits (left to right): Nazly Ahmed

Protestors celebrated the diverse religious and cultural festivals by boiling milk during the Sinhala and Tamil New Year and gathering to break Ramadan fasts. Artists showcased protest art, or sang and danced. Sri Lankans joined from different parts of the country, and on most days the protest site spilled out onto the roads and pavements with families and protestors of all ages, even imitating a “carnival-esque” theme, although protest chants could always be heard in some corner. The aragalaya also recognized Sri Lanka’s darker days by honoring the thousands of civilians killed during Sri Lanka’s final stages of the war, significant for a nation with failed reconciliation. 

The aragalaya’s locations also played a part in its success. The protests took place in many spaces, from central public locations to the doorsteps of houses; during state curfews, citizens would stand at the edge of their homes holding placards in protest. However, the primary location remained an ocean-side urban park called Galle Face Green. The park, usually frequented by families, kite fliers, and young lovers, was a space often accessed by the public, and once converted to a protest site, symbolic too. Prior to the movement, the state sanctioned the park as an “agitation site” for any grievances, not expecting the space to be used exactly as suggested, overflowing with agitated citizens. The park also sits at the hub of commercial Colombo near the Presidential Secretariat (Office of the President), Central Bank, and top-tier hotels, and overlooks one of the many infrastructure projects that are part of Sri Lanka’s overspending and debt. Sri Lankans gathered to protest the struggle to access basic goods against symbols of large-scale corruption and debt. 

An “occupy-style” movement against Colombo’s skyscrapers and an ongoing BRI development (Port City project). Photo Credits: Chulani Kodikara

The After

The aragalaya that started from economic unhappiness sustained itself on anti-corruption — a slow and steady pushback on the corruption pervading both the country’s politics and as a result, its economy. However, as with most movements, the protests did not remain peaceful, witnessing escalations between protestors and security personnel, along with arrests, injuries, destruction of property, and some deaths. Pro-government protestors disrupted and attacked the protest site, while online and offline discourse about the approach of the protests remained hotly debated. But the culmination of it all – the storming of the Presidential house (including a dip in the President’s swimming pool) – forced President Gotabaya Rajapaksa to flee and resign. The Rajapaksas’ almost 20-year hold on Sri Lankan politics ended. The aragalaya had achieved what it had set out to do. 

Following this, unpopular interim President Ranil Wickremesinghe (elected by a parliamentary vote) violently cracked down on protests — a seeming show of power, although Wickremesinghe cited the need to establish stability in order to obtain IMF support. In March 2023, the IMF approved a reform program and the country moved forward with debt restructuring and recovery. In late 2024, Sri Lankans rejected the political elite to elect a new and different political party.

Although the severe impacts of the crisis linger, its citizen movement secured many wins.  In November 2023, Sri Lanka’s Supreme Court issued a symbolic ruling holding several top officials, including former President Gotabaya Rajapaksa and Prime Minister Mahinda Rajapaksa, responsible for the crisis. The people-led and purely domestic intervention narrowly missed descending into further chaos and revealed that its people could unify despite entrenched ethno-religious tensions, even if only under the most dire circumstances. Most importantly, the crisis forced citizens to acknowledge that the promise of national security (by authoritarian-style figures such as the Rajapaksas) could no longer justify the level of ongoing political corruption.

Yet the aragalaya also highlights the many challenges ahead. While the protests mobilized nearly all, the island’s North and East (main areas impacted by the civil war) remained mostly removed as they continued to be sidelined from the country’s development agenda. Sri Lankans are yet to receive accountability and justice for the series of crises in their violent history.

Conclusion

Although a small island, Sri Lanka offers many economic, political, and social lessons to others and itself. The aragalaya is proof that citizen actions do hold power while citizens of privilege hold greater responsibility. The island’s story is a signal that the relationship between politics and economics cannot be ignored – bad policies can severely harm the everyday lives of people. For Sri Lankans, the movement is a reminder that the protests were an overwhelming and unique response to one moment in its recent past. There is much work to be done. 

Notes

• Notably, these protests witnessed restrained military and police deployment until much later (particularly after Gotabaya Rajapaksa’s resignation and under Ranil Wickremesinghe’s leadership). Although unclear why, one could theorize that the Rajapaksas did not expect the peaceful protests to mobilize so quickly and for their own political popularity to diminish at the same speed.
• A recent excavation of the Chemmani-Siththupaththi mass grave site in Jaffna in June 2025 uncovered over 100 additional skeletal remains, highlighting the ongoing efforts of truth seeking post-war and challenges to justice and accountability.

The views expressed in this article are those of the author and do not represent those of any previous or current employers, the editorial body of SIPR, the Freeman Spogli Institute, or Stanford University.