Features
Territorial policing in Ratnapura and a dreaded transfer to Jaffna
(Excerpted from the memoirs of Senior DIG (Retd.)
Kinglsley Wickramasuriya)
When I took over Ratnapura Division I found that there were a large number of pending disciplinary inquiries and out of this many were the cases where the charge-sheeted officers have been interdicted from service for trivial reasons that I considered to be unjust punishment. I called for all those files where disciplinary inquiries were pending from the ‘Strength Clerk’ and went through them one by one burning the midnight oil.
I worked on them even during weekends and saw to it that those that had been interdicted unjustly were reinstated. At the same time, I saw to it that the accumulation of those delayed inquiries was expeditiously disposed of and justice meted out.
While at Ratnapura, I started experimenting with the inspection methodology that I learned under DIG CR Arndt and systematizing my inspections of Police stations, visits, and night rounds so that I knew exactly what I was going to do next. With this, I kept up the surprise element in the Division so that no one knew at what moment and where I would surface. I eventually prepared a ‘Handbook of Inspections’, a virtual guideline for inspections based on management principles for the guidance of inspecting officers. Furthermore, I devoted my free time to developing the sports talent in the Division which enabled the Division win the coveted prize for seven-a-side Rugger.
The MP for Ratnapura once dropped in at my office and made representations on behalf of one of his constituents against Kuruvita Police and wished that I direct Kuruwita Police to take action that would favor his constituent. Accordingly, I made inquiries and found that OIC Kuruwita had acted properly. I informed the MP accordingly and left it at that. But the MP wouldn’t accept the position. He appeared in my office a second time and wanted me to do things the way he wanted.
When I made it clear that that was not possible, he threatened to have me transferred alleging that he knew what I was doing when I was in the ISD covering the UNP etc. I was surprised how he knew what I was doing in the ISD as what I did there was on a ‘need to know’ basis unless somebody inside had squealed against me. I told the MP that what I did at the ISD was none of his business and dared him to arrange a transfer for me as that would be the best that could happen to me at that time.
I had come to Ratnapura on transfer from the ISD because of the IGP’s position on promotions. By then I had come to a situation where I was sick of moving house now and then, and particularly arranging transfers for my wife whenever I went on transfer. Once she nearly lost her job owing to the Education Department’s difficulty in finding her a suitable school in an area to which I was assigned. Finally, having found a school in Colombo on my transfer to ISD, I decided to leave the family behind in case of future transfers.
Here in Ratnapura, I was without my family and was going through enormous difficulties, running a house. However, I had an understanding with the IG Ana Seneviratne who knew my problems that he would bring me back to Colombo at the earliest possible time. So, a transfer would have been very welcome. Nevertheless, I stood by the action taken by the OIC despite the MP’s threat, as that was the proper action to take.
In another instance when 1 walked into the Ratnapura police station one morning, I found Mr. Vasudeva Nanayakkara, well-known as a prominent activist of the left, seated on a bench inside the station. I inquired why he was there and was told that he had been detained for hoisting a black flag on the road opposite the police station in protest against the government on some political issues.
When I went into the matter, I found that this was a bailable offence where a person need not be detained. Accordingly, I instructed the HQI to release him on bail without allowing him to become a ‘hero’ at the expense of the police action. As a result of his release, we avoided him making an issue out of the incident.
During the rainy season, Ratnapura town and the surrounding area get flooded. During this period police are called upon to play the good Samaritan rescuing stranded people, distributing dry rations to those marooned, and operating other emergency services. Floods sometimes cut my bungalow off from the rest of the town and I had to be transported by boat. Police depended on the Navy for boats for rescue operations and these boats were very useful for such duty. We had to work in close collaboration with the Government Agent and his staff in carrying out flood relief work. So the SSP Ratnapura and the Government Agent worked in close collaboration to provide relief to the community at such times. As a result, we developed a close relationship.
Meanwhile I did a round of inspections of several police stations in the Division on the new lines learned under DIG Arndt, developing a new management approach to inspections of Police Stations. Several OICs of stations treasured the reports I gave them based on how they managed their stations. They kept copies of extracts for future reference.
I too drew immense satisfaction from the results I achieved at these inspections. They were not mere `book inspections’ but real value-added assessments that gave proper directions to the OICs showing their strengths and weaknesses.
The exposition of ‘Kapilavastu relics’ was another important event during my tour of duty at Ratnapura. The sacred relics were brought to Avissawella and Prime Minister Dudley Senanayake graced the occasion. All security arrangements were arranged by me. Range DIG Sylvester Joseph was on hand to supervise the arrangements. The event passed without any untoward incident.
The much wanted transfer finally came in August 1978 to Mount Lavinia Division, thanks to IG Police, Ana Seneviratne who kept his word.
Mount Lavinia
Mt. Lavinia and Moratuwa Police Districts came under the Division. There was much crime reported at Mt. Lavinia police station. So much so that officers attached to the Crime Branch were unable to make use of their leave and were under heavy work pressure. Looking for ways to ease this pressure, I came upon a system of community policing adopted by my predecessor, Superintendent Vamadevan used during the communal riots.
That was mostly a system of joint `Neighborhood Watch’ by the citizens and the Police. I revived the system by establishing Neighborhood Patrols throughout the police station area with some success proving that ‘prevention is better than cure.’
Before my taking over the Division a mutinous situation had taken place at the Moratuwa police station where several juror officers had reported ‘sick’ over some issue. I became aware of it when the disciplinary inquiry file came to me after the completion of the disciplinary inquiry.
I took a very serious view of the breakdown in the discipline where even officers on probation had participated. I recommended severe punishment for the miscreants. The DIG, however, took a different view and dealt with those found guilty leniently.
Motor races and Bellanwila Perahera were two other major events that I had to look after during this period. In both these officers from outside the division had to be brought in for special duty. Looking after their discipline and welfare was a major and difficult commitment that needed previous planning and proper organization.
Motor races in Mount Lavinia were an ad hoc event organized at the behest of Minister Athulathmudali who was the MP for the area. I used a double-decker bus as my Command Room from where I could survey the entire area of operation. This was a new experiment I carried out later to be used successfully at the Bellanwila Perehara as well. The minister commended the security arrangements made for the motor races and was pleased that everything went well.
The Mount Lavinia police station was in a dilapidated state and was due for repairs. Having received funds to build a new police station the foundation stone was laid. Minister Lalith Athulathmudali and Range DIG Sylvester Joseph were present on the occasion.
Barely a year had passed when I was suddenly called up by the IG to his office and asked to go in charge of the Jaffna Division. DIG Cyril Herath who was in charge of the Northern Range was also with him. From their conversation, I understood that they were in a bit of a difficult situation to find someone to go in charge of the Jaffna Division. IG said that it was only for one year and that one year of service in the North was being made mandatory for all officers in the Department.
It was difficult to say NO to either officer, IG Ana Seneviratne or DIG Cyril Herath, and back out of the situation for they were two officers in the Department for whom I had the highest respect. Fearful though of the uncertain situation in Jaffna because of the prevailing political violence, I agreed to the transfer.
When I came home and informed the family of the impending transfer to Jaffna, they were highly agitated. I decided to go alone without the family leaving them behind in Colombo promising them that they could join me during the school holidays. Anyway, going to Jaffna was a fearful proposition not knowing what exactly was in store for you. That being how I felt about the transfer you can just imagine what the family situation may have been.
Apart from my security, I had to worry about running a house. Although the security situation had changed, government regulations regarding establishment matters had not. As a result, we had, to fend for ourselves as in a normal situation and bear the additional burden.
Jaffna (Community Policing Experiment)
So, I took the train and reported to Jaffna on August 5, 1979. I was picked up at Jaffna’s end by the HQl Gunasinghe who was waiting for me. There was a huge bungalow of Dutch vantage inside Jaffna Fort that was to be my official residence. Adjoining was the King’s House where the VIPs stayed when visiting Jaffna. My house was equipped with a few pieces of government furniture, an iron bed, a few chairs, etc.
A civilian office peon was prepared to cook for me. My driver was quartered in the nearby single men’s barracks and was available in an emergency. My office was just outside the Jaffna Fort. Inside the Fort were some tennis courts where some civilians played.
I came to Jaffna at a time when the government had declared a state of Emergency and sent Brigadier (Bull) Weeratunga with troops with an edict from President J.R. Jayewardene to annihilate terrorism in the North within 72 hours. The general atmosphere in the entire peninsular was one of eerie silence.
By 6.00 pm the entire peninsula would put up shutters and there was hardly a soul to be seen on the streets after dark. Fear, mistrust, and suspicion were the order of the day. So much so, that once when I visited Kankesanturai (KKS) the ASP told me that he would not go even to the toilet without his weapon.
But after about two weeks in Jaffna, I found that everybody including the police had misread the prevailing general situation.
Crimes were being committed by ordinary criminals blaming them on LTTE and going Scot-free. With the army moving in, the hardcore LTTE cadres left the shores and fled to South India. It was easy for ordinary criminals, therefore, to go on the spree pretending to be LTTE. With this assessment of the situation, I went before the Police in Jaffna HQ station and later all over the peninsular urging them that the solution lies with the community cooperating with the police and urging launching a campaign to solicit police – community cooperation. But the police were skeptical that anything worthy will result from such an approach. Their response was negative.
Albeit this negative attitude of the police, I decided to summon a meeting of the leading citizens of Jaffna town and I was careful to include TULF supporters among the participants. The Mayor of Jaffna Visvanathan was one prominent among them. All OICs of stations in the peninsula were also summoned to witness the proceedings.
In my opening speech, I analyzed the crime situation in the peninsula and the fear created thereby and convinced the audience that crimes were being committed by ordinary criminals in the guise of terrorists taking advantage of the current situation and that the need of the hour was public support for police to contain this trend successfully. My appeal for public support went down well with the audience and their response was positive.
Not even two weeks elapsed after the first meeting at Jaffna HQ that a case of public intervention in a robbery of an old couple in the Kopay Police Station area was reported. A few members of the public had grappled with the robbers, arrested them, and handed them over to the police. On hearing of this, I immediately proceeded to the police station, summoned those members of the public who braved the incident, and presented them with a letter of commendation for their bravery. The event was given wide publicity in the local press.
I went around to the other police stations as well with the same message to be hailed by the participants as a positive step with the promise of cooperation.This demonstration of support for the police from the community proved to the police that their negative assessment was faulty and that there was a large measure of goodwill flowing that has to be organized and sustained. I was wracking my brain about how to achieve this objective when suddenly I came upon an idea that helped me solve the problem.
Thinking of a solution I was alarmed that the current trend was one of a movement that had placed popular trust in me. This was not at all conducive to sustainability. If the movement was to continue even after I left confidence needed to be placed not on a personality but on a system or an organization. So, I decided to design a system that would be in the hands of the local people rather than on an individual.
Evolving of Police-Public Relations Committees in respect of each police station was the result. The Committees worked according to a given Constitution adopted by each Committee based on power-sharing and democratic principles. I went around the peninsula once again to each police station explaining the scheme and establishing the committees. The main idea was to bring the police closer to the community in a collaborative effort to ensure safety, peace, and harmony in the community.
To bolster this scheme police organized sports meets and celebrations during the Sinhala / Tamil New Year period as usually done by the police in the other areas of the country. People enjoyed these events immensely and thanked the police for their leadership. I was invited to several places for the distribution of prizes which I gladly did accompanied by my wife.
While I was in the process of ‘winning the hearts and minds’ of the community it was also important to win the confidence of the Catholic Church. Inspector Pathmanathan attached to Jaffna HQ Police Station paved the way for this. He took me to the Bishop of Jaffna and after a cordial conversation and explanation of what I was doing in Jaffna to restore peace and harmony, I was able to win his support for my campaign. Eventually, we were able to celebrate Christmas with Police Christmas Carols with the Police Band and the Cultural Troupe of the Police Reserve in attendance.
Apart from all this activity, considering the influence the TULF had on the general population in the area I thought it prudent to establish a rapport with its hierarchy if my program was to be successful. So, the Police—Community Relations program opened the door for a relationship with the TULF as well. I was open handed in my response to various requests made by the TULF that I could be generous with.
The high command was treated with all due courtesy and respect. After all, Mr. Appapillai Amirthalingam was the Leader of the Opposition. As the law order situation improved and tranquility returned in the peninsula, I paid a courtesy call t o him and briefed him about the law and order situation in the peninsula and my Police—Community Program.
He was pleased that I was doing my best to serve the people and promised every possible support stating that he did not wish to see any more bloodshed in the region. Taking this opportunity later and on the instructions of IG Police, I arranged a conference of all the Police — Community Relations Committees of the peninsula to review the work they have done. Mr. Amitralingam graced the occasion as the chief guest. Te event was attended by DIG (NR) P. Mahendran. Jaffna GA was represented by his Deputy.
Addressing the gathering Leader of the Opposition spoke of the bitter relations with the police that he and his wife had experienced in the past and that he was happy the situation has changed for the better with a word of praise for the work being done by the PCR Committees. He was empathetic toward the difficulties the police officers were undergoing. He repeated these sentiments in Parliament when he spoke on November 26, 1980 (Hansard Column 881-882).
Further, in the course of participating in these PCR meetings, I had the occasion to listen to some of the difficulties that the people faced in their transactions with the police. One major problem was the difficulty faced by the public in courts on account of the first complaint being recorded by police officers not proficient in the Tamil language. The maority of policemen were Sinhala speaking,
To overcome this problem, I immediately made internal arrangements to ensure that as far as possible Tamil Speaking officers were put on ‘Reserve Duty’ so that the first complaint is properly recorded to circumvent the legal problems in courts.
In addition, I started Tamil classes for Sinhala speaking officers with the help of volunteers and offered them all facilities in the study of the language. Unfortunately, I didn’t have the opportunity of learning the language myself as nearly all those came in contact with in my daily routine, spoke either in English or was conversant in Sinhala. Even my office peon whom I had given strict instructions to speak to me in Tamil avoided doing so. Nevertheless, this disability did not deter me from being close to the ordinary man on the street.
Features
New arithmetic of conflict: How the drone revolution is inverting economics of war
The contemporary global landscape is currently defined by two distinct but interconnected theaters of conflict that are fundamentally reshaping the future of military engagement, as noted by political analyst Fareed Zakaria. This shifts the advantage toward smaller states, or even non-state actors, who do not need to defeat a superpower in direct confrontation; they only need to sustain a constant level of low-cost harassment. In the Middle East, the escalating tensions between the United States and Iran have moved beyond traditional brinkmanship into a high-stakes confrontation centred on the Strait of Hormuz and regional infrastructure. This direction is characterised by Iran’s sophisticated use of asymmetric ‘precise mass’ to challenge American naval and technological superiority, forcing a re-evaluation of how a superpower maintains deterrence against a revolutionary regime that views its own hardware as expendable. This theatre serves as a primary example of how a medium-sized power can utilise low-cost, high-volume technology to neutralize the traditional advantages of a much wealthier adversary, potentially driving the region toward a dangerous nuclear threshold as conventional red lines are blurred.
Simultaneously, the war between Ukraine and Russia has become the world’s preeminent laboratory for the digital transformation of the battlefield. The direction of this conflict has shifted from a 20th-century war of attrition into a 21st-century war of algorithms, where the most critical ammunition is no longer just artillery shells, but data and software. Ukraine’s rapid adaptation—turning commercial drones into precision interceptors and using AI to process millions of combat images—has created a template for modern survival against a larger industrial power. Together, these two conflicts signal a global transition where the ‘exquisite’ military models of the past are being dismantled by the ‘new arithmetic’ of mass-produced precision. This essay examines how the inversion of war economics in these regions is ensuring that future supremacy will not belong to those with the most expensive platforms, but to those who can master the integration of industrial-scale with near-real-time software intelligence.
Fundamental departure
The ‘New Arithmetic of Conflict’ represents a fundamental departure from the 20th-century military paradigm, shifting the focus from high-cost, high-performance ‘exquisite’ systems to the power of ‘precise mass.’ For the last 50 years, military supremacy—particularly for the United States and its allies—has been defined by technologically superior platforms, such as the F-35 fighter jet or the Tomahawk cruise missile. While these systems are undeniably magnificent in their capabilities, they are also incredibly costly and irreplaceable in the short term. Because they take years to design and manufacture, losing even a handful in active combat is strategically damaging and painful for a modern military. This old model relied on a limited number of high-end assets that were slow to produce and even slower to replace, creating a vulnerability that smaller, more agile adversaries have now begun to exploit.
This traditional economic model is being turned upside down by the rise of cheap, commercial-off-the-shelf technology that achieves results previously reserved for superpower budgets. The emergence of the Shahed-type drone, which costs approximately $35,000, illustrates this shift perfectly. Unlike a $2 million cruise missile, these ‘one-way’ drones are built from common parts and can be launched in massive swarms. This creates a state of ‘precise mass,’ where the sheer volume of incoming, low-cost threats can overwhelm even the most sophisticated and expensive defence systems. The attacker no longer needs a massive industrial base to strike with precision; they only need the ability to scale simple, autonomous hardware.
Perhaps the most radical aspect of this inversion is the ‘cost-exchange ratio’ between attack and defence. In the past, an attacker generally had to spend more to destroy a target than a defender spent to protect it. Today, the arithmetic favours the attacker by an order of magnitude. To intercept a single $35,000 drone, a defender may be forced to fire a Patriot interceptor missile that costs roughly $4 million. This means the defender is spending over 100 times more than the attacker just to maintain the status quo. This economic reality suggests that a wealthier nation can effectively be ‘bankrupted’ or depleted of its ammunition reserves by a much smaller state or even a non-state actor using constant, low-cost harassment.
Primary laboratory
Ukraine has served as the primary laboratory for this new era of warfare, demonstrating that the real value in modern conflict is shifting from hardware to software and data. Ukrainian forces are producing stinging interceptor drones for as little as $2,000, capable of taking down far more expensive hardware. More importantly, they are treating battlefield data as a strategic asset, using millions of annotated images from combat flights to train drone AI. This creates a cycle of rapid wartime adaptation where lessons from the battlefield are turned into mass production in days rather than years. Ultimately, the winner of future conflicts may not be the nation with the finest individual platforms, but the one that can combine a small number of ‘exquisite’ weapons with a vast, intelligent, and cheaply networked mass of autonomous systems.
Building on the distinction between the ‘exquisite’ and the ‘expendable,’ the shift in military doctrine reflects a move away from the post-Cold War reliance on a small number of ultra-sophisticated assets toward a more resilient, high-volume architecture. For decades, Western military superiority was predicated on having the most advanced technology in the sky or on the sea, but the sheer cost and complexity of these systems have created a ‘fragility of excellence.’ When a single stealth fighter costs over $100 million, its loss is not merely a tactical setback but a national news event and a significant blow to the overall fleet’s readiness. This creates a psychological and strategic ‘risk aversion,’ where commanders may hesitate to deploy their most capable assets in high-threat environments for fear of losing an irreplaceable piece of national infrastructure.
Furthermore, the industrial reality of ‘exquisite’ systems is that they are built on highly specialised, low-volume production lines. In a high-intensity conflict, the rate of attrition—the speed at which equipment is destroyed—can quickly outpace the capacity of a modern industrial base to replace it. If a nation can only produce a few dozen advanced interceptors a year but loses hundreds of drones or missiles in a single week of combat, the mathematical deficit becomes insurmountable. This bottleneck has forced a re-evaluation of what constitutes a ‘good’ platform; the priority is shifting toward systems that are ‘good enough’ to be effective but cheap enough to be lost without compromising the mission or the budget.
In contrast to these legacy systems, the ‘expendable’ model treats hardware as a consumable resource, much like ammunition. By utilising modular designs and civilian-grade components, nations can mass-produce thousands of autonomous units that are inherently ‘attrition-tolerant.’ This does not mean the end of high-end technology, but rather its repositioning. Instead of a single $100 million jet trying to do everything, the future likely involves a ‘high-low’ mix where a few exquisite platforms act as command-and-control hubs, orchestrating vast swarms of cheap, expendable drones. This evolution ensures that even if the enemy successfully targets dozens of units, the collective network remains functional, shifting the strategic advantage back to the side that can sustain the fight through industrial scale and digital adaptability.
Concept of ‘precise mass’
The concept of ‘precise mass’ represents a strategic pivot where quantity possesses a quality of its own, enabled by the democratization of high-end technology. Historically, precision was a luxury available only to the world’s most advanced militaries, requiring specialised Guidance Systems and satellite constellations. Today, the ‘New Arithmetic’ flips this model by integrating commercial-off-the-shelf components—such as GPS chips found in smartphones and engines from hobbyist aircraft—into lethal, autonomous platforms.
This shift allows smaller states and non-state actors to achieve tactical objectives that once required a superpower’s budget, effectively levelling the playing field through the clever application of low-cost innovation.
The ‘Shahed Model’ serves as the primary case study for this transformation. By producing ‘one-way’ suicide drones for approximately $35,000 each, Iran has created a weapon that is essentially a flying piece of ammunition.
Because these drones are built from common, globally available parts, they are insulated from many traditional supply chain disruptions and can be manufactured at an industrial scale that far outpaces sophisticated cruise missiles. This approach prioritises ‘good enough’ technology—systems that are sufficiently accurate to hit a target but inexpensive enough to be deployed in staggering numbers without financial second-guessing.
The true power of this model is realised through ‘swarm tactics,’ which weaponise the mathematical limitations of modern air defences. When a country launches dozens or even hundreds of these low-cost drones simultaneously, it forces the defender into a ‘saturation’ crisis. Even the most advanced missile defence systems have a limited number of interceptors and can only track a finite number of targets at once. By flooding the airspace with cheap decoys and suicide drones, an attacker can ensure that while many units are shot down, a sufficient percentage will inevitably leak through to strike their targets. This creates a state of ‘precise mass,’ where volume becomes the ultimate delivery mechanism for precision, rendering traditional, high-cost defence umbrellas increasingly obsolete.
This evolution signifies that the era of the ‘silver bullet’—the single, perfect weapon—is giving way to the era of the ‘steel rain.’ In this new environment, the strategic advantage shifts to the side that can manage the highest rate of ‘precise attrition.’ Success is no longer measured by the technical sophistication of a single strike, but by the ability to sustain a continuous, overwhelming flow of autonomous threats that exhaust the enemy’s resources, patience, and defensive capacity.
‘Bankruptcy of the Defence’
The ‘Bankruptcy of the Defence’ represents a critical failure in the modern military-industrial complex’s ability to counter asymmetric threats. In the 20th century, the financial burden of warfare typically fell on the aggressor, who had to invest in expensive bombers or long-range missiles to penetrate a nation’s borders. Today, that economic gravity has shifted entirely. The most radical part of this inversion is the ‘cost-exchange ratio,’ a mathematical reality that turns defensive success into a financial liability. When a defender successfully intercepts a threat, they are often winning the tactical battle while simultaneously losing the economic war.
This disparity is most visible in what can be called the ‘$4 Million Solution.’ In modern conflict zones, we regularly see sophisticated air defence batteries—designed to intercept high-altitude ballistic missiles—being forced to engage low-speed, ‘suicide’ drones. Using a $4 million Patriot interceptor to neutralise a $35,000 Shahed-type drone is an unsustainable strategy. Even if the defence achieves a 100% intercept rate, the attacker is essentially ‘trading up’ in value at a staggering scale. The defender is forced to expend a finite, high-cost resource to eliminate a nearly infinite, low-cost nuisance, creating a logistical bottleneck where the supply of interceptors can never meet the demand of the swarm.
This ‘Losing Game’ fundamentally alters the grand strategy of global powers. Mathematically, when a defender is spending over 100 times more than the attacker per engagement, they are participating in a process of rapid financial and material depletion. As Fareed Zakaria notes, this ‘new arithmetic’ shifts the advantage toward smaller states, insurgent groups, or even criminal organisations. These actors do not need to defeat a superpower’s navy or air force in a direct confrontation; they only need to sustain a constant level of low-cost harassment. Over time, the cost of maintaining a ‘perfect’ defense becomes so high that it can effectively bankrupt a wealthier opponent or force them to withdraw from a region simply because the price of protection has become greater than the value of the presence.
Interceptors alone won’t do
Ultimately, this economic inversion suggests that the future of defence cannot rely on ‘exquisite’ interceptors alone. The current model is built on a scarcity of precision, but in an era where precision is mass-produced, the defense must find a way to make interception as cheap as the intrusion. Until a nation can field directed-energy weapons or low-cost kinetic interceptors that match the $35,000 price point of the threat, they remain trapped in a defensive paradigm that is both mathematically flawed and strategically exhausting.
The final piece of this military evolution is the emergence of Ukraine as the ‘Great Laboratory’ of modern warfare, where necessity has birthed a model of adaptation that operates at wartime speed. This environment has transformed the country from a passive recipient of aid into a sovereign architect of a new kind of combat. Central to this transformation is the development of the ‘STING’ interceptor drone. Produced by groups like Wild Hornets for approximately $2,000, these drones can reach speeds of 280 km/h—fast enough to chase down and destroy the lumbering Shahed drones that have plagued Ukrainian infrastructure. By mid-2025, these low-cost predators had already downed over 3,000 enemy targets, proving that a $2,000 solution could reliably neutralize a threat costing tens of thousands, further tilting the economic scales in favor of the agile defender.
However, the most significant output of this laboratory is not the hardware itself, but the data it generates. Defense Minister Mykhailo Fedorov has noted that Ukraine now possesses a unique array of battlefield data that is unmatched anywhere in the world, including millions of annotated images gathered during tens of thousands of combat flights. In a historic move, Ukraine has begun opening access to this ‘digital ammunition’ through a dedicated AI platform. This allows international partners and defense firms to train their algorithms on real-world combat footage—spanning everything from electronic warfare interference to the movements of camouflaged ‘turtle tanks’—bridging the ‘sim-to-real’ gap that often causes sophisticated Western drones to fail in unpredictable, messy environments.
‘Software-defined’ battlefield
This data-centric approach has led to a ‘software-defined’ battlefield where the loop between a lesson learned, and a technical update is measured in days. Ukraine is now moving toward a procurement model where AI-driven analytics, rather than manual requests, determine which systems are purchased based on their real-world effectiveness. By treating every drone sortie as a data point in a broader matrix, the Ukrainian military is effectively closing the loop on procurement and employment, ensuring that only the most effective, attrition-tolerant technologies reach the front. This institutionalisation of failure analysis into the next generation of software means that the ‘Made in Ukraine’ badge has become a global gold standard for battle-proven, autonomous technology.
Ultimately, the implications of this laboratory stretch far beyond the current conflict. As human judgment gradually gives way to computer algorithms for target detection and navigation, the war’s most valuable legacy may be the creation of the world’s first ‘algorithmic’ military. The transition from industrial mass to algorithmic precision suggests that the countries that prevail in the future will not be those with the largest stockpiles of stagnant hardware, but those that can own and manage the ‘data polygons’ necessary to refine their autonomous systems in near-real time. Ukraine is no longer just fighting a war; it is hosting the debut of a future where data is the ultimate force multiplier.
The inversion of war economics signifies a fundamental shift where industrial capacity and software integration have eclipsed the traditional pursuit of ‘technological exquisiteness’ as the primary metrics of military power. For decades, the measure of a superpower was its ability to field a small number of nearly invulnerable, multi-million-dollar platforms. However, in the modern landscape, these ‘exquisite’ systems are increasingly vulnerable to ‘precise mass’—vast swarms of low-cost, autonomous drones that can be produced at a rate of thousands per day. This transition means that the ‘physical platform’ is becoming a commodity, while the true competitive advantage lies in the ‘compute foundation’ and ‘software-defined’ capabilities that allow these systems to be networked and updated in real-time. Consequently, the victor in future conflicts will not necessarily be the nation with the most expensive fighter jet, but the one that can maintain a resilient, high-volume industrial base capable of sustaining an ‘attrition-tolerant’ force that evolves faster than an adversary can target it.
Double-edged sword for smaller nations
For smaller nations like Sri Lanka, the arrival of this new military era offers a double-edged sword of strategic opportunity and profound vulnerability. Traditionally, small states were sidelined in the global arms race due to the prohibitive costs of ‘exquisite’ platforms like advanced fighter jets or missile destroyers, which often consumed unsustainable portions of a national budget. However, the shift toward ‘precise mass’ means that countries with limited resources can now develop significant deterrent capabilities through the localised production of low-cost, high-impact autonomous systems. By investing in software-defined defences and domestic drone manufacturing, a nation like Sri Lanka can achieve a level of coastal and territorial security that previously required a superpower’s investment. Not only that, but Sri Lanka can also develop into an export market for the new precise technology which has a wide demand from warring countries. Conversely, the democratisation of these ‘one-way’ technologies also means that non-state actors or regional adversaries can more easily threaten national infrastructure, forcing small nations to prioritise digital resilience and rapid technological adaptation over the maintenance of ageing, high-cost legacy hardware.
by Prof. M. W. Amarasiri de Silva
Features
Turning science into action: Prof. Gothamie Weerakoon calls out Biodiversity “Narratives”
In an exclusive interview with The Island, Ifham Nizam speaks with Professor Gothamie Weerakoon—Senior Curator and leading researcher on lichens and slime moulds at the Natural History Museum—who offers a candid, evidence-driven critique of corporate sustainability, global biodiversity governance, and the realities facing countries like Sri Lanka.
With over 450,000 specimens under her care and more than 100 new lichen species described through fieldwork across South and Southeast Asia, Prof. Weerakoon brings a rare combination of deep scientific expertise and frontline ecological observation.
Her message is clear: biodiversity loss is accelerating, and much of what is presented as “progress” remains largely unproven.
Excepts of the full interview
Q: The Natural History Museum speaks of turning science into action—what evidence is there that businesses are actually changing behaviour rather than rebranding sustainability narratives?
A:There is emerging evidence of change, but when biodiversity is the focus, the gap between action and narrative becomes much more visible.
Some companies are moving beyond broad commitments by measuring their impacts on ecosystems, setting targets to halt biodiversity loss, and reporting through frameworks like TNFD (Taskforce on Nature-related Financial Disclosures). But these are still the exceptions.
Real change becomes evident when businesses transform supply chains—eliminating deforestation-linked commodities, adopting regenerative agriculture, and working with local communities to restore ecosystems. Investment in habitat restoration and science-led, location-specific action also signals progress.
However, without clear baselines, measurable outcomes, and long-term commitment, biodiversity claims risk remaining abstract. At present, biodiversity is still more visible in corporate language than in verified outcomes.
Q: Are multinational corporations genuinely reducing their biodiversity footprint, or simply shifting environmental costs to developing countries like Sri Lanka?
A: The reality is mixed, but there is strong evidence that impacts are often being shifted rather than reduced.
Consumption in wealthier economies continues to drive habitat loss in biodiversity-rich regions. In countries like Sri Lanka, export-driven sectors, such as agriculture and rubber, contribute to deforestation and habitat fragmentation.
Companies may improve their environmental performance, domestically, while outsourcing ecological damage to regions with weaker regulation. So while awareness is increasing, most corporations are not yet reducing their global biodiversity footprint.
Q:How do you distinguish between credible biodiversity action and corporate greenwashing in real terms?
A:Credible action is science-based, measurable, and location-specific.
Companies must establish baselines, quantify their ecological impacts, and demonstrate real outcomes—such as reduced deforestation or restored habitats—verified independently.
Greenwashing, on the other hand, relies on vague terms like “nature-positive” without evidence. It often highlights small projects while ignoring major impacts, or depends on offsets instead of reducing harm.

Red Christmas lichens are not a species found in Arctic habitats. Instead, it is characteristic of tropical and subtropical regions, indeed found in the Sinharaja Forest Reserve, particularly in the Morningside and Pitadeniya areas
The key test is simple: can a company prove that biodiversity loss linked to its operations is declining in specific places over time? If not, it is likely narrative rather than action.
Q:Many biodiversity commitments remain voluntary—should there be legally binding global standards for corporate accountability?
A:Yes, there is a strong case for binding standards.
Voluntary commitments lead to uneven progress and make it difficult to separate genuine action from superficial claims. Legal frameworks could ensure consistent reporting, accountability, and minimum standards.
However, biodiversity is highly local. Any global system must allow for flexibility and support developing countries rather than imposing rigid rules.
Q:What sectors are currently causing the most irreversible biodiversity damage, and why are they still operating with limited restrictions?
A:The most damaging sectors include agriculture, forestry, mining, and fossil fuel extraction.
Agriculture—especially large-scale monocultures—drives deforestation and habitat loss. Mining and fossil fuels cause long-term ecological disruption, while marine ecosystems suffer from overfishing.
These sectors persist with limited restrictions because they are economically powerful, biodiversity loss is harder to quantify than carbon emissions, and global supply chains allow impacts to be outsourced. Regulation also remains fragmented and weakly enforced.
Q:In countries like Sri Lanka, development projects often override environmental concerns—how can science-based tools realistically influence political decision-making?
A:Science-based tools can make biodiversity loss visible and measurable.
Environmental impact assessments, ecological mapping, and predictive models allow policymakers to understand trade-offs clearly. When ecological risks are quantified, they become harder to ignore.
The key is integrating these tools into planning systems so environmental considerations are not optional, but a core part of decision-making.
- Phyllopsora species in Monatne forest of Sri Lanka
- Green Algal lichens are dominant in wet mountains in Sri Lanka
Q:Can biodiversity conservation truly coexist with large-scale infrastructure and energy projects?
A:Yes—but only if biodiversity is considered from the beginning.
Projects must be designed using science-based planning, avoiding sensitive ecosystems and incorporating mitigation strategies like wildlife corridors and habitat restoration.
Conservation and development are not inherently incompatible, but poor planning creates conflict.
Q:Are global biodiversity frameworks failing to address ground realities in developing economies?
They often fall short in implementation.
A:Global frameworks provide guidance, but must be adapted to local conditions. Developing countries face capacity constraints and competing priorities.
Success depends on building local scientific capacity, aligning goals with economic realities, and ensuring flexibility in how targets are applied.
Q:What role should governments play when businesses resist biodiversity regulations citing economic pressures?
A:Governments must act as regulators and enforcers.
They should establish clear legal standards, backed by monitoring and penalties. At the same time, incentives—such as green finance and technical support—can help businesses transition.
Economic arguments should not override ecological realities, especially when long-term costs of biodiversity loss are considered.
Q:Are financial institutions doing enough to penalise environmentally destructive investments?
A:Not yet. While awareness of biodiversity risk is increasing, short-term profits still dominate decision-making. ESG frameworks exist, but enforcement is weak.
Stronger systems are needed—binding criteria, independent audits, and better integration of ecological risk into financial decisions.
Q:How can local communities be given real decision-making power rather than token consultation?
A:Communities must be recognised as partners, not stakeholders.
Legal rights, participatory planning, and co-management systems are essential. Traditional knowledge should be integrated with scientific data.
Without real authority, consultation becomes symbolic rather than meaningful.
Q:What immediate, science-backed interventions can be implemented in Sri Lanka?
A:Practical steps include restoring mangroves, creating wildlife corridors, and community-led reforestation.
Using GIS mapping and monitoring systems can identify high-risk areas, while sustainable livelihood programmes reduce pressure on ecosystems.
These interventions must be evidence-based and locally adapted.
Q:How can policymakers protect biodiversity-rich regions from short-term exploitation?
A:Through zoning laws, protected areas, and mandatory environmental assessments.
Valuing ecosystem services in economic planning is also critical. When biodiversity is treated as an economic asset, it becomes harder to ignore.
Q:What mechanisms exist to hold corporations accountable when biodiversity damage crosses borders?
A:International agreements, supply chain regulations, and reporting frameworks like TNFD play a role.
Financial institutions, legal systems, and civil society also contribute to accountability. But enforcement across borders remains a major challenge.
Q:Is there sufficient transparency in corporate biodiversity reporting?
A:No—current systems are inconsistent and largely voluntary.
Many companies fail to quantify their impacts, and independent verification is limited. Without standardised metrics and audits, transparency remains inadequate.
Q:How can biodiversity be integrated into national economic planning without slowing growth?
A:By recognising that biodiversity supports economic resilience.
Nature-based solutions—such as mangrove restoration or sustainable agriculture—deliver both ecological and economic benefits.
Strategic planning can align conservation with development rather than treating them as opposing goals.
Q:What are the long-term economic risks of biodiversity loss in South Asia?
A: They are severe. Declining pollination, soil degradation, and fisheries collapse threaten food security. Loss of forests and wetlands increases disaster risks.
Ultimately, biodiversity loss undermines economic stability and increases vulnerability to climate shocks.
Q:How can science communication better influence public opinion and policy?
A: By making data accessible and relevant.
Visual tools, storytelling, and collaboration with media can translate complex science into actionable insights. Public engagement is essential for policy change.
Q:Are current conservation models too dependent on international funding?
A:Yes, and that creates vulnerability.
Long-term sustainability requires diversified funding—government support, private investment, and community-based initiatives.
Local ownership is key to lasting impact.
Q:Ultimately, who should bear the greatest responsibility for reversing biodiversity loss?
A:Responsibility is shared—but governments hold the greatest leverage.
They set the rules, enforce regulations, and shape economic systems. Corporations and consumers also play critical roles, but without strong governance, progress will remain limited.
Prof. Weerakoon’s assessment is both measured and uncompromising: biodiversity loss is no longer a distant ecological issue—it is an economic, political, and social crisis.
Aligned with the mission of the Natural History Museum, her message is clear: the future of conservation depends not on promises, but on verifiable, science-based action grounded in real ecosystems—not narratives.
Features
Looming shadow: How and why a distant war could threaten vitality of Sri Lankan healthcare
An Independent Freelance Correspondent
As the sun sets over the Indian Ocean, the tranquil beauty of Sri Lanka feels many a world away from the smoke, thunder, misery and deaths in the Middle East, taking place in the midst of a senseless war. Yet for all that, in our interconnected world, a butterfly might flit its wings in the Gulf, and a storm might eventually break over our own little paradise island, as a strange reversal of the status quo. However, the escalating conflict in the Middle East is no longer just a distant headline for Sri Lankans; it is an ominous cloud gathering that threatens the very backbone of our much-bandied social contract, our healthcare system.
While we often view war through the lens of geopolitics or rising oil prices, the “Ground Zero” of its impact in Sri Lanka may well be the hospital ward, the local dispensary, and the dinner tables of our most vulnerable citizens, just as much as it would impact on the healthcare professionals who are responsible for maintaining a well-oiled machine; the pun being intentional.
The Fuel Paradox: When Mobility Becomes a Luxury
Our health service runs on wheels as much as it does on training and wisdom. The entire system has to be supported by energy. The Middle East remains the lifeblood of our energy supply, and any disruption to the Strait of Hormuz would send immediate shockwaves to our fuel pumps. Lack of fuel, as well as skyrocketing prices of oil, would have a cascading detrimental effect on our health service.
For the average citizen, a spike in fuel prices is not just a “transport issue” but a miserable calamity that could become a noteworthy barrier to life-saving healthcare. When bus fares double and three-wheeler charges skyrocket, a mother in a rural village may think twice and even hesitate to take her feverish child to the nearest Base Hospital. In the calculus of poverty, the cost of the journey often outweighs the urgency of the ailment, until and most unfortunately, it sadly and tragically becomes too late.
Furthermore, our healthcare workers, the doctors, nurses, public health midwives, clerks, orderlies, and other grades of minor staff, are certainly not immune to the impacts of the fuel crisis. Unlike many top-tier officials of the rest of the public service, most medical staff rely on their own vehicles or public transport to reach their posts. If fuel becomes a rationed luxury, we risk a kind of inevitable “silent strike” where the healers simply cannot afford to commute to the hallowed places of healing. The other grades of staff mentioned are certainly no less important to run the machine, and they will also be at the receiving end of the fuel crisis and transport problems.
A Bitter Pill: The Private Sector Squeeze
While the state provides free healthcare, the private sector has long acted as a vital pressure valve for the national system. However, the conflict is rapidly tightening the screws here as well.
=The Price of Healing: Most of our medicines and vaccines are imported. With global shipping routes disrupted and “war risk” insurance premiums surging, the landed cost of a simple strip of a commonly used medicine or a vital course of antibiotics to clear a lung infection would climb disproportionately.
=The “In-Patient” Inflation: Private hospitals are energy-intensive hubs. From the electricity that powers life-support machines to the diesel that runs emergency generators, rising costs will most unfortunately have to be passed directly to the patient.
=Consultation Charges: As overheads, maintenance costs, staff salaries, and medical supplies spiral, even the renowned Private Hospitals, as well as even the most dedicated private practitioners, would find themselves forced to increase fees.
When the private sector becomes unaffordable, those patients migrate back to the already overstretched state hospitals, creating a “domino effect” of long queues and exhausted resources.
The Empty Plate: Nutrition as the First Line of Defence will be in danger
Perhaps, the most insidious impact of the Middle Eastern crisis is the one that happens at the grocery store leading to great difficulties in getting food into the table. Sri Lanka relies heavily on remittances from our workers in the Gulf and the robust export of our “black gold”- Ceylon Tea. The war has stalled tea exports to major markets like Iran and Iraq, costing the industry millions every week. Simultaneously, if our workers in the Middle East face displacement, the flow of foreign exchange into our country, which would benefit even the villagers, might just dry up.
When a family’s income drops, the first thing to be sacrificed is often the “quality” and even the quantity of the food that comes onto the table. We might see a return to starch-heavy, protein-poor diets. For a pregnant mother, this means anaemia and untold risks to the yet-to-be-born baby. For a growing young child, it means stunting and weakened immunity. For the elderly, it will mean increasing the frailty of old age. We are essentially “importing” a future health crisis of malnutrition that no amount of free medicine can easily fix.
The Supply Chain Shadow
Modern medicine is a “just-in-time” industry. Many of our specialised vaccines and a variegated plethora of treatments require a “cold chain” – a continuous refrigerated journey. With major Gulf air hubs facing disruptions, these temperature-sensitive medicines must be rerouted. This adds days to the journey and increases the risk of “spoilage.” A vaccine that loses its potency due to a shipping delay is not just a financial loss; it is a lost shield for a child and even, older and elderly people.
Sadly, just like the fuel situation, there have not been any worthwhile efforts to “stockpile” at least some of the essential medicines. Of course, unlike just storing fuel to stockpile, medicines have their own problems with shelf-life and expiry dates. It is indeed a vexing problem that might cause a major, tricky situation at some time in the future. The government is planning to issue medicines for two months from the clinics etc. One only hopes that the currently available stock could be used effectively without that initiative leading to a desperate shortage of essential drugs.
Navigating the Storm: Some Ways to Mitigate the Crisis
This author has brought to light some of the issues that we may see in the future. However, it is not an exhaustive or complete list of all possible consequences. There could be quite a few more. While the situation is grave at present, it is perhaps not unmanageable. To protect the vitality of our healthcare, we must adopt a “War Footing” of preparedness:
1. Fuel Priority for Healthcare: The government must establish a “Green Lane” for healthcare personnel and emergency vehicles, ensuring that they have subsidised or prioritised access to fuel to prevent service interruptions. This has to include the private healthcare personnel as well.
2. Strategic Buffer Stocks: We must move away from “just-in-time” imports and build a minimum 6-month buffer stock of essential medicines and vaccines. We need to utilise regional cooperation with neighbours like India to diversify supply routes.
3. Strengthening Primary Care: By investing in local dispensaries and public health midwives, we can treat ailments before they require expensive hospital stays, as well as extended forms of treatment, reducing the transport burden on patients.
4. Nutritional Safety Nets: Expanding school meal programmes and providing fortified food supplements to pregnant mothers can act as a firewall against the malnutrition that is likely to be caused by economic shocks.
5. Digital Health Integration: Expanding “telemedicine” can allow specialists to consult with rural patients remotely, saving both the doctor and the patient the high cost of travel.
A Call for Preparedness, but not a Harbinger of Panic
It is ever so easy to read these points and see a looming, tremendously gloomy fog that could envelop our revered Motherland in the not-too-distant future. However, from a clearer perspective, the purpose of this analysis is not for the writer to act as a prophet of doom, but for this enterprise to serve as a wake-up call for proactive management and to take all necessary steps, well in time, to avoid a catastrophe.
Our health service is the crown jewel of our nation. It has been built on the Herculean effort of generations who believed that health is definitely a right, and certainly not a privilege. To protect it, we must look beyond our borders and understand that the proverb “a stitch in time saves nine” is what we need now. We must strengthen our social safety nets before the ripples of the Middle Eastern war become a tidal wave that hits our shores. We need to act purposefully now, to be able to steadfastly cushion whatever blows that might come our way in the future.
This is not a forecast of a disaster that is one-hundred per cent certain to occur. In stark contrast, it is meant to be a sober and sombre analysis of possible ramifications that we must prepare for today, to save the lives of our people and look after their health tomorrow.
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.
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