Integrity and the politics of fake qualifications

Sri Lankan politics has often been marred by corruption, dishonesty, and a troubling lack of accountability. However, the recent resignation of Speaker of Parliament Asoka Ranwala has brought a long-standing issue into sharp focus—politicians who fake their educational qualifications. Ranwala’s resignation, following a controversy about the authenticity of his PhD, has ignited a much-needed discussion about the integrity of our political leaders.

In his resignation letter, Ranwala presented a highly improbable excuse: that while he had not faked his qualifications, it would take time to obtain the necessary certificate to prove that he held the required degree. The story of Ranwala is not an isolated one. In fact, there is a long and undistinguished list of politicians who have faked or exaggerated their educational qualifications to present themselves as more competent than they truly are.

Ranwala may very well be the first politician to face the consequences of such dishonesty. Unlike others who have managed to sidestep accountability, his resignation suggests that the tolerance for such misleading actions is beginning to wane. Sajith Premadasa, leader of the Opposition, was forced to admit that he had never completed his bachelor’s degree at London School of Economics afters years of claiming to be a graduate of that prestigious institution. Similarly, MP Namal Rajapaksa has long faced allegations of cheating during his law exams, during the time when his father held the office of president. While these allegations remain unproven, the fact that Rajapaksa—who had shown little academic promise before or after—was able to secure the highest marks in the final law college exam raises questions that cannot be easily dismissed.

What is perhaps more alarming than the specific cases of Ranwala, Premadasa, or Rajapaksa, is the larger culture of impunity that has allowed such behaviour to persist. Sri Lanka’s democracy does not require candidates to possess any particular educational qualifications to run for high office. There are no competency tests to assess whether elected officials can even read or write. Yet, many politicians choose to inflate their educational qualifications to project an image of competence.

This desire to embellish or fake qualifications is not merely a matter of vanity; it goes to the heart of the integrity of the individual, the party they represent, and the entire political system. These acts of dishonesty tarnish the trust placed in them by the electorate, who deserve to know the truth about the people they elect to represent them.

A democracy thrives on accountability. Politicians must be held to the highest standards of honesty and integrity. The public deserves leaders who are honest not just about their policies, but also about their backgrounds. As the case of Ranwala has shown, there are consequences for those who mislead the people they serve. This is a sign that the Sri Lankan electorate is becoming less tolerant of dishonesty in the political sphere—and this is a step in the right direction. 

Ultimately, the credibility of our leaders and the health of our democracy depend on the integrity of those who represent us. The resignation of Speaker Ranwala may be just one incident, but it should serve as a wake-up call to all politicians in Sri Lanka: the days of faking qualifications and evading accountability are numbered. The people demand better.