Features
Saving Sinharaja: A rainforest under threat
(Excerpted from the authorized biography of Thilo Hoffmann by Douglas. B. Ranasinghe)
Sinharaja is the last undisturbed extent of rainforest in Sri Lanka. It lies across the boundary between the Sabaragamuwa and Southern Provinces, within the Ratnapura, Galle and Matara Districts.
The protected area officially named Sinharaja, so situated, is part of a larger forest of that name. The rest of it includes Forest Reserves or Proposed Reserves under other names, some of which are mentioned below. In their midst lay the Sinharaja Forest Reserve and the Sinharaja Proposed Forest Reserve, a continuous area of forest divided thus for formal reasons.
In the late 1960s politicians, administrators and even the public were unaware of the unique value of rainforests. The State began to intensify the exploitation of wet-zone forests to meet the growing demand for timber, especially plywood. Questions relating to the environment, the conservation of unique systems of biodiversity, gene pools, and the other natural riches such forests yield were not asked.
The State Timber Corporation, contracted by the Forest Department under its Forestry Master Plan, commenced log extraction in the wider Sinharaja area from the Morapitiya-Runakanda forest.A plywood and chipboard complex with a processing capacity of four million cubic feet per year was built with Romanian aid at Kosgama. This was 85 km northwest of Sinharaja.
It was decided that the wood to feed it would be taken from Sinharaja, mainly the two Sinharaja Reserves, and that for this purpose the entire extent of pristine rainforest they held was to be selectively logged. Aid was obtained from Canada for this project to be carried out by mechanized means on a massive scale.
Outside the forest the Canadian contractors built and widened roads, strengthened bridges and culverts, and set up a large timber yard at the Dela railway station (the KV line’ then extended to this area and beyond), from where the timber would be freighted to the Kosgama factory. They cleared and built from Veddagala to Sinharaja a wide road sufficient for their equipment to be hauled in and for huge lorries to transport the timber out.
Into Sinharaja they moved the heaviest logging and extraction machinery then known. Where the Research Station stands today there rose a machine yard and repair shop, the ground soaked with engine fuel and lubricants.
The need to rescue a forest
At the time that the State turned to it in the quest for material self-sufficiency, Sinharaja was regarded as remote and mysterious, and had hardly ever been visited by a biologist, or even explored.In 1969 at the Annual General Meeting of the WNPS its President, Thilo Hoffmann, made special mention of the threat to this unexplored but invaluable asset of the country.
The following year a deputation from the General Committee of the Society led by him met the Chairmen d the State Timber and Plywood Corporations. Through them they persuaded the Forest Department to spare 1,000 to 1,200 acres of Sinharaja as a scientific reserve.
Delegations from the WNPS continued to bring the matter up at meetings with relevant Government committees and agencies. With Thilo they met the Conservator of Forests, too, for this purpose.
At the AGM for 1971 in December that year, member Vere de Mel moved the following resolution; and he in particular urged repeatedly that the Society should take further action.
“That this Society requests its Committee, if after a full study it considers it desirable to do so, to use every possible means to check the denudation of the Sinharaja Forest Reserve for the purpose of exploiting its timber for a Government Plywood Factory.”
It was up to Thilo, to initiate the action. He decided to visit the forest. Sam Elapata Jr., a long-standing committee member of the WNPS, and a close friend of his, lived at Nivitigala near Sinharaja. In an article on Thilo in the 50th anniversary issue of Loris (1986), he recounts that Thilo came to his house, and what he said, thus:
“Sam, let’s go and see the Sinharaja in its pristine glory before the people ravage and exploit it. I would like your children also to see it, because it is their heritage. Maybe one of them will remember it as it was and what has happened to it, and we may still make a conservationist out of him.” He was already thinking of the future.
Thilo spent three days, February 26-28, 1972, on extensive trips into the Sinharaja Reserves and the surrounding areas, partly with Sam, his small son Upali and Chandra Liyanage. He observed and noted the status of the forest, its fauna and flora, the people and their economy.
What he saw convinced him that the Society had to do all in its power to persuade the Government that the intact forest was worth far more than the timber, and that the Sinharaja logging project should be entirely abandoned.
The campaign
He realized that this was no easy task, especially at that time when awareness of conservation concerns was very limited indeed. An unprecedented campaign was necessary. As a basis for it, Thilo considered that it was his duty to describe and explain what was at stake. Without convincing reasons the Society would have no chance of either drawing other individuals and NGOs into their “Save Sinharaja” campaign, or of getting the Government to listen to them.
Thilo now wrote the monograph titled The Sinharaja Forest 1972. The inclusion of the year in the title was meant to indicate the threat to this age-old natural system through human interference and its transitory status at that point of time. Here, also, for the first time a Ministry of the Environment was proposed. This remarkable work, published as a booklet by the WNPS, never attained later the prominence it deserves. It is reproduced here as Appendix VII.
Very little information about Sinharaja was then available. About the only record was a report by J. R. Baker in the Geograpbical journal titled The Sinharaja Rain forest of Ceylon”‘. Baker had camped in the vicinity of Sinharaja from the end of July to the beginning of September 1936, and visited the fringes of the forest. He wrote:
“The villagers in the vicinity of Sinharaja … are Buddhists … They hold the forest itself in great veneration and consider that any crime committed in it is particularly evil. The killing of animals and the eating of flesh are contrary to the precepts of Buddhism … For this reason pressure was brought to bear upon me not to place my camp actually within the forest.”
Thilo says in his monograph:
“The people of the Sinharaja country are friendly and hospitable. We were received in several houses and offered king coconut and hakuru.”
He also describes in detail the sustainable and limited use they made of forest produce. The area was very thinly populated with few villages and hamlets, accessible only on foot. Thus the peripheral human impact on the forest was negligible.
Two thousand copies in English and 1,000 in Sinhala of the booklet were printed. With its impact the WNPS managed to bring together a large number of NGOs for the sole purpose of opposing the logging of Sinharaja. Thilo wrote a memorandum addressed to the Prime Minister which was then co-signed by all those who lent their support.
It was the first time that so many different organizations were united in a single goal and acting together under one umbrella for conservation in Sri Lanka. Many NGOs supported the appeal to Government, among them the Soil Conservation Society of Ceylon, Geographical Society of Ceylon, Ceylon Natural History Society, National Agricultural Society and Planters’ Association.
The Ayurvedic Practitioners’ Association readily joined, as valuable and rare medicinal plants in Sinharaja make it a vital “Nature’s pharmacy”. Dr S. R. Kottegoda, Professor of Pharmacology and Dean of the Faculty of Medicine at the University of Ceylon, Colombo, also signed. Other well-known personalities in the list included former Conservators of Forests, Directors of Irrigation and Surveyors General, a few members of Parliament and journalists. The media also helped, to some extent.
Thilo realized the importance of involving the Buddhist clergy in the struggle, and sought, through Mr Sumith Abeywickrama of the Soil Conservation Society, the support of the Ven. Neluwe Gunananda Thero, Sanghanayaka of the Galle Pirivenas. The latter understandingly gave his full co-operation and associated himself with the document to the Prime Minister. The President of the All-Ceylon Buddhist Congress, Dr G. P. Malalasekera too was a signatory.
The main concerns expressed and arguments put forward in the memorandum were the following, in summary.
* Once it is mechanically logged natural regeneration will not take place, and it will be lost forever as a unique living monument of evolution.
*The evolution of the forest should continue for the sake of the gene pool. Once it is destroyed it could never be re-created by man.
*Only 9% of the wet zone in Sri Lanka is covered by forest. Experts state the extent should be 25%.
Sinharaja has not been studied systematically. It has a large number of indigenous species. It has great potential for study, research and new products from which prosperity may spring.
*Logging will affect the daily lives of people with ensuing flash floods and landslides. A good quality of life for the people is only possible in a high-quality environment.
The historic document (Appendix VIII) was submitted to Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike on 18 May 1972.
It was followed on June 5 by Hoffmann’s suggestions to the Ministry of Planning on how to meet the country’s need for timber. Some of the suggestions put forward were: study of the technology of rubber wood for its use in plywood; enrichment of 250,000 acres of degraded and secondary wet zone forest with mahogany, which is an all-purpose timber, and other useful species including quick-growing plywood timbers; temporary import of plywood logs for immediate relief if necessary; and an island-wide campaign for the planting of suitable tree species in home gardens, spare plots and wasteland.
The response
As a result of this opposition, the Government appointed a Committee, with George Rajapaksa, then Minister of Fisheries, as chairman. ‘There were hearings and deliberations. These went on for several years. ‘The WNPS, too, gave evidence. This, though crucial, is barely mentioned in the final report!
The Forest Department and its Ministry, as well as the Ministry of Industries and other interested parties, including the Canadian contractors, used all their very considerable powers and influence to convince the Government and the public that logging Sinharaja was in the overall greater interest of the nation. Canadian forestry experts were cited. An Indian botanist was brought down to argue and bolster the case for exploitation. Even socio-economic reasons were adduced to justify it.
The Canadians had claimed that with selective logging the forest would regenerate in 20 years. But at the rate of extraction needed for the supply of wood as required by the contract the entire extent of the wider Sinharaja forest would be gone through in 12 years. Yet the Indian agreed with their plan.
The position of the WNPS was steadily supported by Willem Meijer, a Dutch botanist with wide experience in the tropics and expert scientific knowledge of rain-forests. Then teaching at a university in the USA, he was in Sri Lanka to revise sections of Trimen’s Flora as the author of several of its chapters. He argued against the “experts” regarding the regrowth of the tropical trees at Sinharaja, which he estimated would take from 40 to 80 years, and he strongly warned against any disturbance to the unique forest”. The Indian botanist was countered by Hoffmann, in the article reproduced as Appendix IX.
All this was to no avail. The mechanized logging of the two Sinharaja Reserves began. It was claimed that those opposing it were cranks and obstructionists, who merely pursued an anti-national hobby. Thilo was once even threatened with bodily harm by the contractors.
The official publication of the report of the Rajapaksa Committee would be delayed until 1976.
However, since 1973 its contents were conveyed to the Press and the WNPS. It was a great disappointment. Most of it dealt with yield estimates, felling quotas, and the question of how and from which Reserves the enormous quantities of timber required by the Kosgama factory were to be procured. Ecological considerations seemed to be of no concern.
The report contended: “Re representatives of the Society (who) came before the committee, it was pointed out to them that in September 1970 their Society had agreed to the exploitation of Sinharaja provided an area not less than 1,000-1,200 acres was left in an undisturbed state, however between then and now the Society has changed its views considerably and repeatedly requested that the whole of Sinharaja should be set apart for purposes of scientific study.”
Already Hoffmann had written in The Sinharaja Forest the following passage which explained and represented the Society’s momentous change of view.
“Before visiting the area I believed the selective logging, as planned for the two Sinharaja reserves would be a sensible and acceptable economical measure. After days of careful observation in the field and subsequent study of the many factors involved, I have come to the firm conclusion that the two Sinharaja reserves should be left alone, and that they serve the nation best in their present, totally unexploited state.”
The Government report proposed that 4,200 acres in the Sinharaja Reserves should be left as an arboretum. But of this, as Hoffmann pointed out, not much more than 2,000 acres was intact rainforest: the rest had already been logged. As President of the WNPS Thilo Hoffmann continued the struggle with no letup, among other actions, writing several more persuasive and well-reasoned documents.
The continued pressure brought some relief The Prime Minister’s office informed the Society that there would be negotiations with the Canadian Government to modify the contract, for the time being to exploit only 1,500 acres at lesser intensity in the north-western part of the Sinharaja Reserves, and to carry out the mechanized logging first at the Delgoda and Morapitiya-Runakanda Reserves.
The General Committee of the WNPS, including its President, visited Sinharaja on March 8, 1975. Loris records “that they were deeply moved and greatly depressed by the permanent and irrevocable changes … inflicted.” The felling of each large tree in a rainforest destroys or damages smaller trees, other flora and fauna, along and around its line of fall. In addition, the wide “skid tracks” of the machinery to approach the trees and remove the timber had destroyed more of the forest.
These were then planted with mahogany, an exotic tree, in this unique indigenous ecosystem. (It is the area altered in this manner that is today mainly accessible to the visiting public.) They also:
noted with surprise that … the size of the authorized Pilot Project of 1,500 acres had been greatly exceeded. They were told that “an extension had been given” and that by now 3,000 acres have been logged, possibly even more.
As Hoffmann remarked, in the 22,000 acres of the two Sinharaja Reserves there was now “no more than 15,000, probably 10,000 acres only, of untouched quality forest left””. (That is, 6,000 and 4,000 ha, respectively.) Of this the State had agreed eventually to protect from logging, in effect, only 2,000 acres (or 800 ha), a simply insufficient, and vulnerable, area – representing a forest type which not long before had covered much of the low- and midlands of the country.
Sinharaja continued to be cut down without due control. The mechanized logging was not shifted to the other Reserves. A year later the outlook was grave, and the “heart of the forest”, as Hoffmann called it, was being destroyed.
After all the effort it seemed that the battle was lost. At this point Thilo wrote the paper entitled ‘Epitaph for a Forest: Sinharaja – 1976’ in Loris19 (Appendix XI) to yet again urge the attention of the public, persuade the State, and prevent the tragedy which today many find unthinkable.
The damage until now had been held back and slowed down by his relentless efforts. But if events continued to run their course the lucrative main logging contract would be extended, with Canadian aid. All the rest of Sinharaja would be destroyed.
In 1977 a new Government was elected. Thilo immediately tried to obtain a personal interview with the Prime Minister, J. R. Jayewardene. Fortunately, he succeeded very quickly. The latter’s Private Secretary, Nihal Weeratunge would always be helpful in conservation matters. Now politicians and administrators had become sufficiently aware of the continuous agitation to preserve Sinharaja and the reasons for it. At last, the persuasion met with a favourable reception and response.
Swiftly the State decreed that logging in the Sinharaja Reserves should cease entirely. It was decided that all wet-zone forests were to be given complete protection. The machinery and the vehicles were removed. The contractors departed. Sinharaja was saved.
Sinharaja today
Today Sinharaja is recognized as an important part of a `biological hotspot’, i. e. one of the areas of the Earth with the highest biological diversity, which Sri Lanka is assessed to be. It is the first natural feature in the country designated a World Heritage Site. An information brochure by the Forest Department describes Sinharaja as “the heart of the nation”. Had it been logged 35 years ago, as they wanted to, it would now be a severely degraded forest area, like so many others.
Thilo remarks: “I wished Sinharaja to be placed under the Fauna and Flora Protection Ordinance (Wildlife Department), because at that time only the status of National Park could give it the necessary legal protection. The Forest Department, of course, opposed this strongly, and eventually created its own rival to the Ordinance, namely the National Heritage Wilderness Area Act, for the sole purpose of keeping Sinharaja under its control. Under this Act Sinharaja was declared a National Wilderness Area in 1989. I believe since then no other area has been so declared by the FD.
In this connection it must be recalled that it was the Forest Department which used all the power, money and influence at its disposal to make sure that all of Sinharaja would be exploited for timber and to prevent it being preserved for posterity. They nearly succeeded!
Both the Department of Wildlife Conservation and particularly the Forest Department had their own agendas which often (and in the case of the FD, more often than not) were in plain opposition to sensible and effective conservation policies and projects. The title of the Head of the Forest Department, Conservator (now -General) of Forests, was actually a misnomer.
After the letter to the Prime Minister was submitted, the WNPS, under Hoffmann, had fought on unaided for the cause of Sinharaja. Even the co-signatories had been content to leave it at that. However, we find that even by 1978, as the Secretary of the Society wrote in his Annual Report, after the lonely seven-year battle by the WNPS “everybody else seems to be claiming credit for saving Sinharaja”!
In 1991 Thilo Hoffmann wrote in Loris20 of his endeavour: “This constitutes one of the few major victories which my direct personal involvement during over three decades in the conservation movement achieved. Only long after the battle was over did the Forest Department begin to realize the value of the untouched forest and started to give it meaningful protection and scientific study.
“A new law was promulgated, called the National Heritage Wilderness Areas Act (1985) and Sinharaja is today the only site declared under it. It has also received international recognition as a World Heritage Site (UNESCO). The logged portion of the forest offers interesting possibilities for scientific study about the effects of logging and regeneration whereas the major untouched portion of the forest remains a unique Sri Lanka system of inestimable value. I am confident that Sinharaja will now survive for all time and that the people of Sri Lanka will treasure it with the love and respect it deserves. The struggle was worth it.”
The largest untouched tropical rainforest in Ceylon, Sinharaja had taken at least 100 million years to evolve.
Features
Aragalaya betrayed?
‘The treason of the intellectuals’ in the age of populism – Part I
Sri Lankans recently celebrated the fourth anniversary of the Aragalaya, which, some believe, ushered in an era of Left populism in Sri Lanka. Left politics in Sri Lanka has been ravaged by a crisis, since the late 1970s. It was basically one of an inability to regain the mass basis the Left lost in the 1977 elections. The Left was pushed out of the coalition government, led by Sirimavo, by the right-wing forces, within it, in the context of the global oil crisis that led to the adoption of austerity measures by the government.
This crisis of the Left exploded with the mass uprising ,known as the Aragalaya, which began with the hashtag campaign ‘Gota Go Home’. The nature of its development has come under scrutiny by critics who allege that hidden international hands orchestrated the movement. Nevertheless, the Aragalaya—which developed into an authentic citizen action—ultimately ended in a counter-revolution. The current JVP/NPP government came to power by riding the wave of public awakening that accompanied the Aragalaya.
Is the JVP/NPP government Leftist?
Even though the Western international media, as part of a strategy to manipulate the JVP/NPP administration from time to time, calls it a left government, it works very closely with the right-wing local capitalist class and international financial agencies.
Subaltern or elite?
While there was some initial attempt to identify the JVP/NPP government’s class basis as ‘subaltern,’ in the face of criticism, this formulation was changed to ‘non-elite’. It is correct that, generally, members of the new regime do not belong to the strata of the political elite of the traditional aristocracy and bourgeoisie. However, it can be argued that those who are holding the leadership of the NPP government are those with the aspiration of becoming the new elite. They are the emerging political elite, representing both the rural and urban petty-bourgeois strata.
The leadership consists of those who have risen to the top in professional fields and the bureaucracy, led by those in the fields of academia, medicine, engineering and technology, law, management, business, accountancy, and administration, alongside those who have traditionally been political activists and trade union leaders. Political power has been captured by these petty-bourgeois class elements that have embraced a technocratic ideology. Rallied around them is the capitalist leadership that directs chambers of commerce and is tied in with international capital.
In essence, the current regime represents an alliance formed between the petty-bourgeois and capitalist groups and international finance capital—an alliance that, by now, has replaced the popular bloc formed with ‘janathawa’ (the people) during the election campaign, leading to the formation of the government.
The new elite represents the heirs of the nationalist-Left tendency of the generation of the ‘56 daruwo,’ represented by the JVP, a social force that Bandaranaike released in 1956. The mainstream of the political change of ’56 came to be represented by Bandaranaike’s own party, the SLFP, whose promise of building a common man’s era fizzled out with the regime, led by Mahinda Rajapaksa, coming to an end in 2015. At long last, true representatives of the rural and urban petty bourgeoisie have assumed political power after a long-drawn-out struggle, however, shedding their Left credentials in the process. This is the generation that Gunadasa Amarasekara, the doyen of jathika chintanaya, controversially hoped would take responsibility for the future of the country. While they have assumed political power, their formulation of, what they call, punarudaya (the Renaissance) seems to be at odds with Amarasekara’s wish to recover the ‘Sinhala Buddhist civilisational consciousness’—a point which requires a separate discussion, at another time.
Some of the leftists, who joined the NPP to form the government, seek to justify their choice by claiming that the new regime stands for the two-stage revolution ‘a la Lenin’—that is, first, the bourgeois-democratic stage and then the proletarian-socialist stage; Sri Lanka will achieve industrialisation in the first stage, under punarudaya, or the Renaissance. What is not made clear is how Sri Lanka could industrialise while being under the grip of international finance agencies whose actions, economists argue, from the very beginning of their involvement in the Sri Lankan economy, have preempted even the remotest possibility of the country becoming an industrialised one. With its claim to bringing about economic stability and growth, the government has moved away from serving the genuine interests of the people, and the country, in the fields of economy, polity, and culture, as its critics point out, as briefly outlined in the next section of this article.
It is claimed that the theory of left populism was formulated in opposition to right-wing populism, which furthered the neoliberal agenda. Going by what is outlined below, can the JVP/NPP government be identified as a left-populist one?
Not economic democracy, but autocracy?
Left political parties, groups, and individuals in Sri Lanka widely hold that the crisis of Left politics has been intensified with the current government assuming power. According to their criticisms, the JVP/NPP government is not a Left government.
The current government entered into an agreement on debt restructuring with the IMF based on the conditions imposed by them, despite the expectations of the masses that rallied around the JVP/NPP election campaign and the promises made in its own election manifesto to renegotiate it. Accordingly, placing the larger burden of the haircut of the debt restructuring on the EPF of the working people has been carried out by the JVP/NPP government without any changes to the original plan.
It is apparent that the current government’s economic programme, from its inception, has been directed by the leadership of the representatives of the capitalist class, led by the chambers of commerce. The government has been mainly formulating and implementing government policy, based on the debt provided and the conditions imposed by the IMF and its affiliated institutions, the World Bank and the ADB, rather than on the felt needs of the Sri Lankan people.
An unbearable tax burden is imposed on the people. The government boasts that it has filled the Treasury with trillions of rupees, including the wealth it has exploited, via those taxes. Not only the poor but also the middle classes are oppressed by the unbearable burden of an ever-rising cost of living.
Poverty and malnutrition, which are major determinants of living standards, remain at high levels under the current government. According to official reports, 25 percent of the population lives in extreme poverty, while 80 percent of them live in rural areas. The poverty of the Tamil community, living in plantations, is even higher. Neoliberal economists themselves say that if calculated according to the real cost of living, the population living below the poverty line would be one-third of the total population. Women and children—and among them, girls—suffer the most from all this.
Sri Lanka’s micro-finance and credit crisis has trapped hundreds of thousands of people, mainly rural women, in a deep debt trap through predatory high-interest loans, leading to over 200 reported suicides. Activists have already expressed fears that the Microfinance and Credit Regulatory Authority Act, recently passed by the government, is designed to blame victims and will contribute to the erosion of consumer protections in such a regulatory framework by placing the onus of protection on borrowers. They stress that the Act does not include sufficient provisions to protect micro-finance and credit consumers.
Critics point out that not only our economic sovereignty but also our political sovereignty and security have been compromised by the secret agreements signed by the current government with the global American empire (US-Sri Lanka Security Memorandum of Understanding/Government Partnership Program (2025)) and the regional Indian power (India-Sri Lanka Security Partnership Agreement (2025)).
This government is strengthening relations with Israel—a nation that has embarked on a policy of genocide against Palestinians—and is maintaining cooperation with Israeli intelligence agencies and the military.
The current government has declared the private sector and the market mechanism, not the state sector, as the engine of economic growth at a level surpassing previous governments.
The government has accepted the neoliberal vision of subjugating large areas of social life to the logic of commodification. By allowing the market to behave as it sees fit, people have been subjected to the ruthless control of the market, except in the case of a few essential goods.
Critics have accused the current government of subtly but carefully implementing the privatisation of state-sector institutions, a move that the previous government had withheld in the face of public opposition. Services, essential to the survival of ordinary people and the middle class, such as public healthcare and education, are increasingly being brought under the influence of the market. There is no clear attempt to free passenger transport from the clutches of a rapacious private sector. The energy sector—oil and electricity supply—continues to be driven towards privatisation through fragmentation.
It is instructive here to note what Bhaskar Sunkara, Editor of Jacobin—the popular Left magazine published in New York that strongly backed Zohran Mamdani’s bid for Mayor—has to say on social infrastructures:
“Health care, education, transportation, energy, and telecommunication are not consumer goods but social infrastructures on which participation in modern life depends.
Organizing them through profit-seeking intermediaries that ration by price rather than need introduces predictable distortions. The result is a system that undermines both equality and efficiency. Decades of comparative experience suggest that public provision in these sectors can deliver better outcomes at lower social cost, precisely because it aligns provision with social need rather than purchasing power.” (‘We Need a Socialism After Capitalism,’ Jacobin, April 2026)
Serious damage to the natural environment and biodiversity continues under the current government. Deforestation, fragmentation of wildlife habitats, and human-wildlife conflicts have intensified. The release of protected lands to local and foreign private investors for so-called development, ignoring environmental impact assessments (for example, the Mannar wind farm projects), and the failure to stop illegal land acquisition and sand mining, which have undermined biodiversity, especially in the dry zone, are continuing.
The introduction of a biometric national identity card, funded by an Indian grant, in conjunction with the massive digitalisation programme, launched under the private sector operation, poses a serious risk of being used to unnecessarily restrict individual freedoms and to be used by the Sri Lankan government and foreign states to suppress citizens when necessary. Overall, it is clear from global experience that digitalisation, in the name of national security, is building a surveillance state. (To be continued)
by Kumudu Kusum Kumara
Features
The illusion of foolproof identity: Are even biometrics under threat by AI?
For quite a few decades,we have nonchalantly operated under a comforting and standard assumption that our bodies are our ultimate legal deeds. The features of every human body are quite unique. We have been taught that while passwords can be guessed, documents can be forged, and keys can be stolen, the biological architectures of our physical selves remain fundamentally unassailable and distinctly foolproof. Your face, your fingerprints, the unique landscape of your eye, are nature’s barcodes, forged from an intricate mix of genetics and intrauterine chance, utterly distinct to each of us among billions of people. This absolute distinctiveness made “biometrics”; automated methods used to recognise, authenticate, or identify individuals based on their unique biological and behavioural characteristics, the golden child of universally accepted global security. Amongst many other things, they are even trusted to unlock smartphones, provide access to sensitive portals, secure multi-billion-dollar wire transfers, cross international borders, and even safeguard top-secret military complexes.
Yet for all that, a profound and deeply unsettling shift is occurring, even beneath our own feet. The rapid acceleration of generative Artificial Intelligence (AI) and digital cloning technologies has begun to split open this relationship between biological reality and identity confirmation. Today, sophisticated software can replicate human voices with terrifying accuracy using mere seconds of feed-in audio, synthesise flawlessly lifelike videos of public figures saying things they never ever verbalised, and generate artificial fingerprints or facial configurations designed specifically to trick electronic gatekeepers. The comforting illusion that our bodily metrics are fool-proof is perhaps dissolving to quite a significant extent, casting a real-time shadow across the infrastructure of modern trust, even in everyday life.
Beyond the Fingerprint: The Expanding Universe of Identity
To understand the intricacies and depth of the current risks, one must look beyond the traditional hallmarks of identity verification. Perhaps the average person is clearly and deeply familiar with standard facial recognition, thumbprints, and the striking, complex rings of retinal imagery. Indeed, human biology offers an incredibly vast and nuanced spectrum of unique identifiers. Science and industry have quietly harnessed a long list of alternative indices to verify the identities and details of exactly who we are.
Consider iris recognition, which maps the intricate, visible coloured ring surrounding the pupil of the eye, or palmprint authentication, which tracks the expansive system of major lines, wrinkles, and minute ridges across the entire hand. Beyond these lie vascular biometrics, often referred to as vein pattern recognition, which uses near-infrared light to capture the unique layout of blood vessels seen beneath the skin of a finger or palm, a map completely invisible to the naked eye.
Furthermore, behavioural traits have proven just as distinct as anatomical ones. Voice biometrics analyses the physical anatomy of the vocal tract, nasal cavities, and vocal cords to isolate distinct sound frequencies. Gait analysis evaluates the precise, rhythmic mechanics of how an individual walks, tracking joint angles and weight distribution. Even keystroke dynamics, the precise cadence and rhythm with which you type on a keyboard, and ear acoustic geometry, which measures the unique way sound waves echo back out of your specific ear canal, have been successfully deployed to establish undeniable proof of identity.
The Pro Side: Unmatched Convenience and Safety
The historical arguments in favour of biometric systems remain incredibly compelling, which explains their near-ubiquitous adoption. First and foremost is the argument of unmatched convenience. Biometrics elegantly solve the “human error” factor inherent in traditional security appliances. You cannot lose your iris on a crowded train; you cannot accidentally leave your unique vein patterns at home; and you cannot forget the complex “password” of your facial geometry. It is an identity architecture that is permanently attached to the user, eliminating the friction of remembering combinations of symbols or carrying physical keys.
From a general, social and systemic perspective, biometrics have provided an unprecedented layer of objective truth. In criminal justice, fingerprint and DNA databases have exonerated the wrongfully accused, reunited missing children with families, and brought dangerous fugitives to justice based on definitive physical evidence rather than fickle, unreliable human memory. At international borders, automated biometric gates process millions of travellers daily with high efficiency, flagging authentic security threats while speeding up travel for the public. In the financial sector, a glance at a smartphone or a press of a thumb could prevent billions of dollars from being fraudulently stolen in identity theft and sham transactions every year by ensuring the actual account owner is physically present.
The Dark Side: When Your Body Becomes a Vulnerability
Despite these immense benefits, the reliance on biological markers has always harboured a fundamental flaw: the absolute permanence of the data. If a hacker steals your credit card number or a critical password, you can easily log online, cancel the account, and generate a completely new string of random characters. The breach is a nuisance, but it is entirely correctable and is fixable. However, if a malicious actor steals the high-resolution digital file containing your retinal map, your facial architecture, or your voice print, you cannot change your body. You cannot reset your eyes; you cannot easily forge a new set of fingers. Once a biometric signature is compromised, it is compromised for the rest of your life.
This permanence creates a highly centralised vulnerability. Biometric authentication systems do not store your actual finger or face; they store a mathematical digital template derived from them. These templates are housed inside vast corporate and government databases, and even universal digital portals. As cyberattacks grow increasingly sophisticated, these databases represent high-value targets for digital thieves. The terrifying consequence is that a single security breach at a major technology company or a government agency could permanently expose the personal physical keys of millions of citizens simultaneously.
The AI Shadow: Faking even the Unforgeable
This brings us to a profound paradigm shift driven by modern artificial intelligence. The traditional and abiding defence of biometrics was that physical traits could not be replicated in real-time. A photograph of a face could not trick a system looking for depth, and a recorded voice lacked the dynamic shifts of live speech. However…, surprise, SURPRISE…, AI has completely shattered these firmly held conventions and inferences.
Generative Adversarial Networks (GANs), a class of AI models in which two neural networks compete against each other, are now capable of analysing thousands of images or audio clips of an individual and creating a near-flawless synthetic clone. A clone refers to an exact copy, duplicate, or true genetic replica of another organism, cell, or object. The term applies across several fields and implies an absolutely identical real-life descriptor. Using these tools, fraudsters can create “deepfake” videos that mimic the precise micro-expressions, skin textures, and even the blink rates of a targeted executive, acclaimed scientist, an economist of global repute or even a political leader. In 2024, an employee at a multinational firm in Hong Kong was tricked into paying out 25 million dollars after attending a video conference call where every other participant was an AI-generated digital clone of his real-world colleagues.
Similarly, voice cloning has become a weaponised tool for financial scams. With less than ten seconds of audio scraped from a social media post, AI can synthesise a voice that is indistinguishable from a loved one or a bank official, perfectly matching the acoustic biometrics used by telephone banking systems. Even more alarming is the concept of “Master Prints”: the AI-generated, synthetic fingerprints that combine the most common ridge patterns found across the human population. Much like a master key that can open many different locks, these synthetic prints can trick biometric sensors up to 20% to 30% of the time, completely undermining the premise of absolute individuality.
Implications for the Future: Rebuilding Trust
The realisation that biometrics can be systematically manipulated has immense implications for the future of global society, law, and security. We are stepping into an era where we can no longer trust our eyes or ears to verify the identity of the person on the other side of a digital connection. This breakdown of trust threatens to disrupt not only financial institutions but also the very foundations of democratic systems, where synthetic video and audio can be deployed to frame individuals or fabricate digital evidence.
To survive this environment, the security industry must completely abandon the concept of the commonly used single-factor biometric authentication. The future will require a multi-layered approach. Biometrics will likely be coupled with behavioural signals that change dynamically over time, or physical tokens like cryptographic hardware keys. Furthermore, security developers are engaged in an intense arms race to create “deepfake detectors”; AI systems designed specifically to analyse incoming files for the microscopic digital artefacts left behind by generative software, verifying that a human face or voice is biologically real and is happening in real-time.
Legally and ethically, this shift demands robust new frameworks. Governments worldwide are beginning to recognise that our biological signatures require the same, if not greater, legal protections, as our financial assets. Laws must be strictly enforced to punish the unauthorised creation of digital clones and to compel corporations to encrypt biometric data using advanced, non-hackable methods.
A Balanced Path Forward
Ultimately, and even surprisingly, biometrics are neither a flawless saviour nor an inherent curse. They are powerful tools caught in the crossfire of an abiding technological evolution. They continue to offer unparalleled efficiency and security when implemented correctly. However, the dangerous myth of their absolute infallibility must be permanently laid to rest.
As artificial intelligence continues to blur the line between the real and the synthetic, our approach to identity must become as dynamic as the technology threatening it. We must stop viewing our physical bodies as unshakable passwords. True security in the modern age will not come from blindly trusting our biological uniqueness. It can only come from our collective vigilance, technological adaptation, and the implementation of robust, multi-layered digital defences that protect the sacred boundaries of who we really are.
by Dr B. J. C. Perera
MBBS(Cey), DCH(Cey), DCH(Eng), MD(Paediatrics), MRCP(UK), FRCP(Edin), FRCP(Lond), FRCPCH(UK), FSLCPaed, FCCP, Hony. FRCPCH(UK), Hony. FCGP(SL)
Specialist Consultant Paediatrician and Honorary Senior Fellow, Postgraduate Institute of Medicine, University of Colombo, Sri Lanka.
An independent free-lance correspondent.
Features
Human-caused leopard deaths soar in Sri Lanka’s Central Highlands, new study warns
A groundbreaking international study, spanning 17 years, has revealed an alarming rise in human-caused deaths of the endangered Sri Lankan leopard, with the majority of fatalities concentrated in the tea estate landscapes of the Central Highlands.
The peer-reviewed study, titled “Human-Caused Leopard Deaths in Sri Lanka Are Concentrated in Central Highlands’ Estate Mosaics: Evidence From 17 Years of Mortality Records,” was recently published in the prestigious scientific journal Wiley’s Wildlife Letters.
The research team was led by conservation scientist Sanjaya Weerakkody and comprised a distinguished group of local and international researchers, including Vimukthi Gunasekara, Sethil Muhandiram, Try Surya Harapan, Kithmi R. Gunasekara, Bandini Jayasena, John B. Wilson, Prathiba M. Amugoda, Tharika de Silva, Chathuranga D. Hathurusinghe, Ahimsa Campos-Arceiz, and Enoka P. Kudavidanage.
The scientists represented a broad collaboration of institutions, including the Southeast Asia Biodiversity Research Institute of the Chinese Academy of Sciences, Yunnan Provincial Tropical Rainforest and Asian Elephant Conservation Innovation Team in China, LeopardCon Sri Lanka, Oklahoma State University in the United States, the Department of Natural Resources of Sabaragamuwa University of Sri Lanka, and the Tropical Ecosystems Research Network.
Speaking on the significance of the findings, researcher Sethil Muhandiram said the study provides the clearest picture yet of how human pressures are driving leopard mortality in Sri Lanka’s hill country landscapes.
“We found that plantation landscapes, especially tea estate mosaics in the Central Highlands, have become major hotspots for leopard deaths. Most concerning is the widespread use of wire snares, which continue to silently kill leopards and other wildlife,” Muhandiram said.
According to the findings, researchers analysed leopard mortality records from 2008 to 2024 and documented 164 human-caused deaths across the island, averaging nearly 10 deaths annually. More worryingly, the study found that leopard deaths have steadily increased over time, underscoring intensifying human-wildlife conflict in Sri Lanka.
The study identified wire snares as the leading cause of death, accounting for over 62 percent of cases where the cause was known. Many of these snares are believed to have been set for wild boar and other animals but ended up trapping leopards.
“Snaring is now one of the greatest threats facing the Sri Lankan leopard outside protected areas. Unless immediate action is taken to remove snares and strengthen enforcement, these deaths will continue to rise,” Muhandiram warned.
Plantation landscapes, especially tea estates in the Central Province, emerged as the most dangerous habitats for the country’s apex predator.
Researchers found that nearly 47 percent of all recorded leopard deaths occurred in the Central Highlands, while the Nuwara Eliya District alone accounted for 38.4 percent of fatalities, despite covering only a small portion of the leopard’s estimated range.
Researchers warned that the patchwork of tea estates, fragmented forests, villages, and agricultural lands has become a deadly landscape for leopards attempting to move between habitats.
The study also found that adult male leopards were disproportionately affected, a trend scientists caution could have serious implications for breeding populations and the long-term survival of the species.
Sri Lanka’s leopard, scientifically known as Panthera pardus kotiya, is an endemic subspecies found nowhere else in the world and is already listed as endangered.
Muhandiram stressed that conservation efforts must move beyond national parks and include estate landscapes where leopard-human interactions are increasing rapidly.
“Conservation cannot focus only on protected areas anymore. Leopards are surviving in human-dominated landscapes, and protecting them will require cooperation from estate communities, plantation companies, Wildlife authorities, and policymakers,” he said.
The study has further emphasised that leopard conservation in Sri Lanka can no longer focus solely on protected areas such as the Yala National Park, as significant leopard populations are increasingly surviving in estate and rural landscapes vulnerable to human pressures.
Researchers concluded that without immediate and coordinated action, Sri Lanka risks losing one of its most iconic and ecologically significant species to escalating human-induced threats.
By Ifham Nizam
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