Features

Seeing the market through the spectre

Published

5 years ago

2021/09/21

By Panduka Karunanayake

Leftist ideologues like to create an image of ‘the market’ as a terrible place, like how grown-ups frighten children with their ghost stories. The market is portrayed as a ruthless, heartless machine that thrives on unfairness and corruption, crushing the poor and fattening the rich. It must have become easier to create this image after the Soviet bloc fell in the 1990s and China emerged out of communism soon afterwards, because after that people quickly forgot that socialist and communist economies too have markets – even markets every bit as ruthless, heartless, unfair and corrupt as any capitalist market. Today, these ideologues can write as if the market and capitalism are synonyms. Everything ‘un-socialist’ can be easily ‘explained away’ by saying that it ‘promotes marketisation’.

No amount of argument or explanation would change these ideologues’ minds – after all, an ideologue is a person who pursues an ideology in an inflexible manner. But let me set out some related matters, for the benefit of the rest of us.

Emergence and evolution of the market

Markets have probably existed throughout human existence, because human beings are social animals that thrive on social interaction. There is an illuminating passage in Charles Darwin’s book The Voyage of the Beagle, where he described an encounter with the inhabitants of Tierra del Fuego in South America, who were ‘primitive’ hunter-gatherers and nomads with no previous encounter with civilisation:

“Some of the Feugians plainly showed that they had a fair notion of barter. I gave one man a large nail (a most valuable present) without making any signs for a return; but he immediately picked out two fish, and handed them up on the point of his spear. If any present was designed for one canoe, and it fell near another, it was invariably given to the right owner.”

This passage shows that they were well-versed in the moral principles – such as free choice, trust, fairness and reciprocity – associated with exchange of goods and services that form the basis of the functioning market.

The market became prominent after the emergence of agriculture about 10,000 year ago. Agriculture enabled farmers to produce a food surplus, which then enabled the rest of the villagers to work on other crafts – promoting division of labour and specialisation. This created an overall increase in the quality of the villagers’ lives, because they now had a wider variety of produce to consume. Villagers now depended on each other more, for the produce they wished to consume. As the village increased in size and complexity, a place where producers and consumers could meet, to exchange goods and services, became a necessity. In the physical realm this was the marketplace, and in the conceptual realm it was the market. Initially, exchange occurred through the barter system without a medium of exchange, but the invention of money made it easier.

But until industrialisation, this market was small and sluggish. It produced very little, compared to today. Most of what a village produced was consumed within it, and only a tiny proportion of it left the village, to be consumed by outsiders – the market was still not much more than the marketplace.

Reason for smallness

The reason for this smallness was not entirely because there were no industrial factories. The villagers could have produced more if they wanted to, but they didn’t, because they saw that any extra produce created problems. There were difficulties with storing it, protecting it, preserving it or transporting it elswhere, and in any event the lords could easily expropriate it under the feudalistic modes of production. Items that were considered luxury items were an exception; they were carried to distant destinations by camel, caravan or boat.

But starting in the eighteenth century, industrialisation changed all that. Factories produced large quantities of produce (or ‘commodities’) cheaply, and the market expanded to distribute a much larger variety and quantity of goods much more widely. Specialisation became the norm and a necessity. The crucial factor that made all this possible was probably the improvement in transport. Look at your lunch plate today, and try to figure out from where and how far each of the food items on it – not to mention the plate itself or the energy for the fire that cooked your lunch – have come from.

Today, production and consumption are almost totally separated from each other (with a few exceptions, like farmers who sell their produce by the roadside in front of their homes, and ‘factory outlets’). It is the market that enables this to happen. The market, which is no longer simply the marketplace, gives us access to a bewildering variety of goods and services, thereby enabling us – even the poorest amongst us – to enjoy a greater choice and higher quality of life, compared to pre-industrial times. The healthcare and education that even the poorest amongst us enjoy would not reach them if not for the market.

As an example, let us take soap. Until industrialisation this was a luxury item that only the elite enjoyed. In Roman times, even the elite cleaned themselves mostly by simply immersing themselves in their baths and rubbing off dirt; indeed, using soap would have made the bath too disgusting to get into. Soap was available only to those in the very highest echelons of society. The masses were ‘dirty’ and their skin was infested with scabies, pediculosis and lice, and they commonly suffered diseases like impetigo and erysipelas – they lacked even the water necessary to wash themselves (especially hot water in cold climates). But today, soap is so ubiquitous that we take it for granted – it was industrialisation that enabled its cheap mass production and the market that enabled its wide distribution.

Value of simple things

The real value of something as simple as soap was driven home powerfully to me in the aftermath of the 2004 tsunami, when people had lost everything and were accommodated in make-shift camps. What did they ask for, from the donors and volunteers who went to help them? First, they asked for food, water and certain medicines. A few days later, they began asking for soap, a change of clothing and sanitary pads: after three or four days, they were itching and suffering with fungal skin infections. That was an unfortunate re-enactment and reminder of the pre-industrial life of the masses. I remembered how a textbook of public health that I had read a few decades earlier had cleverly classified infectious diseases according to whether they were prevented by soap and water, clean drinking water, safe food, and so on. The post-tsunami experience showed me the sagacity of that – and the value of the ubiquitous soap, industrialisation and the market.

In his book The Third Wave, Alvin Toffler compared a modern-day market to an efficient telephone exchange or switchboard. A switchboard connects thousands of senders and recipients accurately and enables messages to be sent across to their intended destinations – like producers, consumers, and goods and services in the market. Like telephone messages, goods and services are produced, sent across and consumed according to need and availability: demand and supply.

Such a market cannot exist on its own. It needs inputs from important sectors in society, such as law and order (which upholds the right to private property, prevents or punishes theft, and arbitrates when there are contractual disagreements), education (which creates an educated and trained workforce, not only for manufacture but also for distribution), communication, energy, transport, ports, etc. Such external supports have existed not only in capitalist markets but also in pre-capitalist and socialist markets. These supports are provided because everybody realises that markets are useful to everyone, especially when the population expands and the demand for commodities increases.

So, to say that something should be abhorred because it promotes ‘marketisation’ is disingenuous.

Organising the market

Markets can be organised in various ways. It helps to think of these as lying on a spectrum ranging from capitalism to communism, which are the extreme forms at the two ends. In-between, there are lots of compromises, combinations or ‘middle ways’. For instance, the current Chineses model is sometimes called state capitalism – a good example of a middle way.

But the natural form of the market that emerged spontaneously was the free market: a market where no authority-imposed restrictions or controls, nor introduced any encouragements or inducements. The activities in the free market merely recognised the concepts of private property and voluntary exchange, and operated on demand and supply. That was all.

Opponents

Throughout this time, the free market has had many opponents who have tried to impose limits or controls to it. Division of labour and specialisation were resisted – by the cultural elite who tried to maintain the status quo in society, such as the caste system in ancient society and feudal-peasant relations in medieval times. During industrialisation when factories came up, that was resisted too – by guildsmen who felt that their business was threatened, and those like the Luddites who felt threatened by the new manufacturing technology. Karl Marx proposed that private property, including ‘the means of production’, should be taken over by the state and brought under its control.

Some of the concepts that they used against the growth of the free market were traditional values such as loyalty and caste-based duties (especially upheld by the cultural elite), simplicity in life and charity as well as opposition to ‘ursury’ and banks (especially the clergy), and equality. It is only now, after centuries of change, that words like ‘industry’ (which initially meant industriousness), ‘entrepreneurship’ and ‘individualism’ have emerged as ‘good words’, to create an environment conducive to a free market. Charles Dickens’ novel Martin Chuzzlewit nicely captured the mood of the era when industrialisation was struggling to emerge through the feudal society, by portraying the struggle of a typical ‘upstart’ who had to go to America to make a fresh start.

According to Stephen Fry, even today, the typical British comedy mostly parodies the upstart’s ineptness (“celebrate failure”), whereas the typical American comedy glorifies the industrious entrepreneur or smart-aleck (“life is improvable”). When we read comments about the market, we must take care to ‘read’ this subtext too.

Inequality

Ironically, inequality had previously been tolerated and even celebrated, as long as the only inequality was between the elite and the masses – the masses were ‘equal’ in their poverty and the elite were rich by birthright. But after industrialisation, the moment the masses gradually became enriched and a middle class emerged, inequality became a big social issue. When a part of the masses remained poor and another part became better-off, socialism was born. Different segments of the masses quickly became each other’s enemies – thanks to socialism. It was an example of applying the brakes even before the vehicle had started to move in earnest. They were ennobled by socialism’s new words, like ‘fraternity’ and ‘equality’ – which basically meant, ‘Those who are not poor like you are not one of you, and have no right to be rich if you too cannot be rich’.

But while the leaders of socialism may have harboured such beliefs, their proletariat comrades had simpler minds. In his book The Road to Wigan Pier written after World War One, George Orwell, himself a socialist, reflecting on the tensions and contradictions in English society as it grappled with this new-found inequality and ‘class struggle’, wrote:

“To the ordinary working man, the sort you would meet in any pub on Saturday night, Socialism does not mean much more than better wages and shorter hours and nobody bossing you about….[No] genuine working man grasps the deeper implications of Socialism. Often, in my opinion, he is a truer Socialist than the orthodox Marxist, because he does remember what the other so often forgets, that Socialism means justice and common decency….His vision of the Socialist future is a vision of present society with the worst abuses left out, and with interest centring round the same things as at present – family life, the pub, football, and local politics.”

Orwell’s main message was that any effort to ‘improve’ society, by whatever name, that had lost touch with the common man was bound to deteriorate into a fascism. The remainder of the twentieth century proved him right.

Today, Orwell’s England has come through quite nicely in spite of the disintegration of the British Empire soon afterwards, and shows none of the class struggle and poverty Orwell’s and Dickens’ books have recorded. So, should we champion an equality of the poor, or should we patiently work towards a gradually enriching society with a tolerable level of inequality?

Necessary controls

At the same time, it is also advisable to control some forms of exchange in the market. For instance, if a country considers that it is necessary to ensure food security through its own, local cultivation of important crops, it is wise to put in place some safeguards to protect local agriculture from the adverse effects of competition from imported foods, at least for important foods. Even advanced capitalist countries like USA and Japan do this (for wheat and rice, respectively).

Similarly, it would be prudent to protect certain crucial markets, such as the energy sector and ports. It is also important to ensure distribution of crucial goods & services (such as healthcare, basic education, basic housing, basic clothing, basic transport) for all members of society, with a view to protecting the poor who have limited purchasing power. This requires the institution of safety nets and price control. In this age of climate change, resource depletion and environmental degradation, nobody would argue against environmental protection, which naturally requires the imposition of certain restrictions on the free market. Finally, nobody would argue that sectors such as national defence and law & order should be floated in the free market. So markets do need judicious controls and regulation.

More than ‘free’

On the flip side, in some markets there are mechanisms created specifically to encourage a bigger flow of goods & services than what the natural, ‘free’ market would sustain. These include patent laws, laws restricting monopolies, bankruptcy laws, the financial and share market, and so on; some of them may be good, while others are not.

The market is then not merely a place of exchange; it is also a place to make massive profits, where the falling crumbs accumulate to produce huge volumes of ‘wealth’. There are those who would profit exactly from this, while such ‘wealth generation’ or ‘productivity’ brings no intrinsic value to society while needlessly destroying our environment and culture – this can then become the new status quo that these new elite wish to protect.

Conclusion

A free market would promote exchange of goods & services and increase the volume of exchange, and this in turn would increase employment, productivity, taxation and funds for welfare expenditure. Both restricting it and encouraging it, while sometimes necessary, must be done only cautiously. Naturally, therefore, both extremes – and their supportive ideologies – are not good. What we need to have is a ‘middle-way’ market that enables enough economic activity and protects the poor, while protecting the environment for future generations.

So, there is no need to fear the market. What we need to do is understand it, be able to predict its behaviour, and try to modify it so that it creates the benefits we need and avoids harm. The child must grow up, overcome the fear of ghosts and learn to deal with darkness. Disingenuous, sleight-of-hand arguments that promote the darkness are of no use, and their supportive ideologies can only lead to fascism – as the twentieth century amply taught us.

The writer teaches medicine in the University of Colombo (email:

panduka@clinmed.cmb.ac.lk). He acknowledges helpful comments from Professor Sirimal Abeyratne (Professor of Economics, University of Colombo) and Dr G. Usvatte-aratchi.

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Features

Your six-year-old needs a tablet like a fish needs a smartphone

Published

13 hours ago

2026/03/25

Sahan Weerasooriya

THE GREAT DIGITAL RETHINK — PART II

Nordic countries handed tablets to toddlers and called it early childhood education. Now they’re taking the tablets back, handing out pencils, and hoping nobody noticed. Meanwhile, the Global South is still signing the tablet contracts. Someone should probably warn them.

The Tablet Arrives in Preschool

It is 2013, a government minister stands in a preschool in Stockholm, handing a shiny tablet to a four-year-old. Press cameras click. A press release announces that Sweden is building the digital classrooms of the future. The child, who until recently had been learning to hold a crayon, now swipes confidently at a screen. Innovation! Progress! The future!

Fast forward to 2023, the same Swedish government, or at least its successors, announces that preschools were wrong to make digital devices mandatory. Children’s reading comprehension is declining. Books are going back on the shelves. Pencils are making a comeback. The preschool tablets are being quietly wheeled into storage, and nobody wants to talk about the press release.

What Finland Actually Did — And Is Now Undoing

Finland has long held a special place in the global education imagination. When PISA scores are published and Finland sits at or near the top, education ministers from Seoul to São Paulo take note and wonder what they are doing wrong. Finland is the benchmark. Finland is the proof that good education is possible.

Which makes it all the more significant that Finland, in 2025, passed legislation banning mobile phones from classrooms. Not just recommending restraint. Not just issuing guidelines. Banning them, with teachers empowered to confiscate devices that disrupt learning. The law covers both primary and secondary schools. It came after years of evidence that children were distracted, and that Finland’s own PISA scores had been falling.

But the phone ban is only part of the story. The deeper shift in Finnish primary education has been a quiet reassertion of analogue fundamentals. Early literacy is being treated again as a craft that requires time, patience, practice and, crucially, a pencil.

Sweden gave tablets to toddlers. Then took them back. The pencils were in a drawer the whole time.

Sweden’s Spectacular U-Turn

Sweden’s reversal is arguably the most dramatic in recent educational history, because Sweden had gone further than most in embracing early-years digitalisation. The country had not merely allowed devices in preschool, it had in places mandated them, treating digital interaction as a developmental right alongside physical play and social learning. There was a logic to it, however misplaced: if the future is digital, surely children should encounter that future as early as possible.

The problem is that young children are not miniature adults navigating a digital workplace. They are human beings in the early stages of acquiring language, developing fine-motor-skills, building concentration and learning to regulate their own attention. These are not processes that are enhanced by a swipeable screen. Research on early childhood development is consistent on this point: young children learn language through conversation, storytelling, and physical manipulation of objects. They learn to write by writing, by the slow, muscular, tactile process of forming letters with a hand.

By 2023, Swedish education authorities had seen enough. Reading comprehension scores were down. Handwriting was deteriorating. Teachers were reporting that children were arriving in primary school unable to hold a pen properly. The policy reversed. Books came back. Cursive writing was reintroduced. The national curriculum was amended. And Sweden became, instead, a cautionary tale about what happens when you swap crayons for touchscreens before children have learned what crayons are for.

Australia: Banning Phones at Lunch

Australia’s approach to primary school digitalisation has been somewhat less ideologically charged than Scandinavia’s, and accordingly its reversal has been more pragmatic than philosophical. Australian states and territories arrived at phone bans largely through the accumulating pressure of parent complaints, teacher frustration and growing evidence that smartphones were damaging the social fabric of school life, not just in classrooms, but in playgrounds.

Queensland’s ‘away for the day’ policy, introduced in Term 1 of 2024, was notable precisely because it extended beyond lesson time to cover break times as well. This was a direct acknowledgement that the problem was not simply digital distraction during learning, it was the way that always-on connectivity was transforming childhood itself. Children who spend every break time on a phone are not playing, not resolving social conflicts face to face, not developing the unstructured social skills that primary school has always, if accidentally, taught.

The cyberbullying dimension added particular urgency in Australia, where research showed that many incidents of online harassment between primary-school children were occurring during school hours, facilitated by the phones sitting in their pockets. Banning the phone at the school gate did not solve the problem of online cruelty, but it did remove the school day as a venue for it.

The Science of the Pencil

The cognitive argument for handwriting in primary education is, it turns out, and far more interesting than the popular ‘screens bad, pencils good’ slogan suggests. The research on note-taking in university students, the finding that handwritten notes produce better conceptual understanding than typed notes, has a more fundamental parallel in primary education.

When a young child learns to write by hand, they are not merely practising a motor skill. They are encoding letters through physical movement, which activates memory systems that visual recognition alone does not reach. Studies in developmental psychology suggest that children who learn to write letters by hand recognise them faster and more accurately than those who learn through typing or tracing on screens. The hand, it appears, teaches the brain in ways the finger-swipe does not.

This does not mean that digital tools have no place in primary education, nobody sensible is arguing that children should graduate from primary school unable to use a keyboard. The question is sequencing and proportion. The emerging consensus, hard-won through a decade of failed experiments, is that foundational literacy and numeracy need to be established through analogue means before digital tools are introduced as supplements. Screens can follow pencils. Pencils, it turns out, cannot follow screens without catching up on what was missed.

The hand teaches the brain in ways the finger-swipe does not. And it took a decade of falling scores to rediscover this.

The Rest of the World Is Still Buying Tablets

Here is the uncomfortable part. While Finland legislates, Sweden reverses course and Australia bans phones from playgrounds, a large portion of the world’s primary schools are doing the opposite. Governments across South and Southeast Asia, Sub-Saharan Africa and Latin America are actively expanding device programmes in primary schools. Tablets are being distributed. Interactive whiteboards are being installed. AI tutoring apps are being piloted. The logic is identical to the logic Finland and Sweden followed 15 years ago: modernise, digitalise, equip children for the future.

The vendors selling these systems are not telling ministers about the Swedish U-turn. The development banks financing device programmes are not adjusting their models to reflect the OECD’s inverted-U curve. The international consultants advising education ministries are largely still working from a playbook written in 2010.

The lesson of the Nordic reversal is not that screens are evil, it is that screens at the wrong stage, in the wrong proportion, without the right pedagogical framework, undermine the very foundations they are supposed to build on. That lesson is available. The question is whether anyone is listening.

What Primary Schools Actually Need

Literacy and numeracy are not enhanced by early device saturation. They are built through reading aloud, through writing by hand, through mathematical reasoning with physical objects, and through the irreplaceable medium of a skilled teacher who knows their students.

Technology in primary education works best when it supplements a strong foundation, not when it substitutes for one that has not yet been built. Sweden and Finland did not fail because they used technology. They failed because they used it too extensively, and without asking what it was actually for. That question — what is this for? — is the one that every primary school system in the world should be asking before it signs another tablet contract.

SERIES ROADMAP Part I: From Ed-Tech Enthusiasm to De-Digitalisation | Part II: Phones, Pens & Early Literacy (this article) | Part III: Attention, Algorithms & Adolescents | Part IV: Universities, AI & the Handwritten Exam | Part V: A Critical Theory of Educational De-Digitalisation

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

Features

Government is willing to address the past

Published

2 days ago

2026/03/24

Sahan Weerasooriya

Minister Ratnayake

Minister Bimal Rathnayake has urged all Sri Lankan refugees in India to return to Sri Lanka, stating that provision has been made for their reintegration. He called on India to grant citizenship to those who wished to stay on in India, but added that the government would welcome them back with both hands if they chose Sri Lanka. He gave due credit to the Organisation for Eelam Refugees Rehabilitation (OfERR), an NGO led by S. C. Chandrahasan, the son of S. J. V. Chelvanayakam, widely regarded as the foremost advocate of a federal solution and a historic leader of the Federal Party. OfERR has for decades assisted refugees, particularly Sri Lankan Tamils in India, with documentation, advocacy and voluntary repatriation support. Given the slow pace of resettlement of Ditwah cyclone victims, the government will need to make adequate preparations for an influx of Indian returnees for which it will need all possible assistance. The minister’s acknowledgement indicates that the government appreciates the work of NGOs when they directly assist people.

The issue of Sri Lankan refugees in India is a legacy of the three-decade long war that induced mass migration of Tamil people to foreign countries. According to widely cited estimates, the Sri Lankan Tamil diaspora today exceeds one million and is often placed between 1 and 1.5 million globally, with large communities in Canada, the United Kingdom and Australia. India, particularly Tamil Nadu, continues to host a significant refugee population. Current figures indicate that approximately 58,000 to 60,000 Sri Lankan Tamil refugees live in camps in India, with a further 30,000 to 35,000 living outside camps, bringing the total to around 90,000. These numbers have declined over time but remain one of the most visible human legacies of the conflict.

The fact that the government has chosen to make this announcement at this time indicates that it is not attempting to gloss over the human rights issues of the past that continue into the present. Those who suffered victimisation during the war may be encouraged that their concerns remain on the national agenda and have not been forgotten. Apart from those who continue to be refugees in India, there are more than 14,000 complaints of missing persons still under investigation according to the Office on Missing Persons, which has received tens of thousands of complaints since its establishment. There are also unresolved issues of land taken over by the military as high security zones, though some land has been released, and prisoners held in long term detention under the Prevention of Terrorism Act, which the government has pledged to repeal and replace.

Sequenced Response

In addressing the issue of Sri Lankan Tamil refugees in India, the government is sending a message to the Tamil people that it is not going to gloss over the past. The indications are that the government is sequencing its responses to problems arising from the past. The government faces a range of urgent challenges, some inherited from previous governments, such as war era human rights concerns, and others that have arisen more recently after it took office. The most impactful of these crises are not of its own making. Global economic instability has affected Sri Lanka significantly. The Middle East war has contributed to a shortage of essential fuels and fertilizers worldwide. Sri Lanka is particularly vulnerable to rising fuel prices. Just months prior to these global pressures, Sri Lanka faced severe climate related shocks, including being hit by a cyclone that led to floods and landslides across multiple districts and caused loss of life and extensive damage to property and livelihoods.

From the beginning of its term, the government has been compelled to prioritise economic recovery and corruption linked to the economy, which were central to its electoral mandate. As the International Monetary Fund has emphasised, Sri Lanka must continue reforms to restore macroeconomic stability, reduce debt vulnerabilities and strengthen governance. The economic problems that the government must address are urgent and affect all communities, whether in the north or south, and across Sinhalese, Tamil and Muslim populations. These problems cannot be postponed. However, issues such as dealing with the past, holding provincial council elections and reforming the constitution are not experienced as equally urgent by the majority, even though they are of deep importance to minorities. Indeed, the provincial council system was designed to address the concerns of the minorities and a solution to their problems.

Unresolved grievances tend to reappear in new forms when not addressed through political processes. Therefore, they need to be addressed sooner rather than later, even if they are not the most immediate priorities for the government. It must not be forgotten that the ethnic conflict and the three decade long war it generated was the single most destructive blow to the country, greatly diminishing its prospects for rapid economic development. Prolonged conflict reduced investment, diverted public expenditure and weakened institutions. If Sri Lanka’s early leaders had been able to negotiate peacefully and resolve their differences, the country might have fulfilled predictions that it could become the “Switzerland of the East.”

Present Opportunity

The present government has a rare opportunity to address the issues of the past in a way that ensures long term peace and justice. It has a two thirds majority in parliament, giving it the constitutional space to undertake significant reforms. It has also demonstrated a more inclusive approach to ethnic and religious minorities than many earlier governments which either mobilized ethnic nationalism for its own purposes or feared it too much to take political risks to undertake necessary reforms. Public trust in the government, as noted by international observers, remains relatively strong. During her recent visit, IMF Director General Kristalina Georgieva stated that “there is a window of opportunity for Sri Lanka,” noting that public trust in the government provides a foundation for reform.

It also appears that decades of public education on democracy, human rights and coexistence have had positive effects. This education, carried out by civil society organisations over several decades, sometimes in support of government initiatives and more often in the face of government opposition, provides a foundation for political reform aimed at justice and reconciliation. Civil society initiatives, inter-ethnic dialogue and rights-based advocacy have contributed to shaping a more informed public about controversial issues such as power-sharing, federalism and accountability for war crimes. The government would do well to expand the appreciation it has deservedly given to OfERR to other NGOs that have dedicated themselves addressing the ethnic and religious mistrust in the country and creating greater social cohesion.

The challenge for the government is to engage in reconciliation without undue delay, even as other pressures continue to grow. Sequencing is necessary, but indefinite postponement carries risks. If this opportunity for conflict resolution is not taken, it may be a long time before another presents itself. Sri Lanka may then continue to underperform economically, remaining an ethnically divided polity, not in open warfare, but constrained by unresolved tensions. The government’s recent reference to Tamil refugees in India is therefore significant. It shows that even while prioritising urgent economic and global challenges, it has not forgotten the past. Sri Lanka has a government with both the mandate and the capacity to address that past in a manner that secures a more stable and just future for all its people.

By Jehan Perera

Features

Strategic diplomacy at Sea: Reading the signals from Hormuz

Published

2 days ago

2026/03/24

Sahan Weerasooriya

The unfolding tensions and diplomatic manoeuvres around the Strait of Hormuz offer more than a snapshot of regional instability. They reveal a deeper transformation in global statecraft, one where influence is exercised through calibrated engagement rather than outright confrontation. This is strategic diplomacy in its modern form: restrained, calculated, and layered with competing interests.

At first glance, the current developments may appear as routine diplomatic exchanges aimed at preventing escalation. However, beneath the surface lies a complex web of signalling among major and middle powers. The United States seeks to maintain deterrence without triggering an open conflict. Iran aims to resist pressure while avoiding isolation. Meanwhile, China and India, two rising powers with expanding global interests are navigating the situation with careful precision.

China’s position is anchored in economic pragmatism. As a major importer of Gulf energy, Beijing has a direct stake in ensuring that the Strait of Hormuz remains open and stable. Any disruption would reverberate through its industrial base and global supply chains. Consequently, China advocates de-escalation and diplomatic resolution. Yet, this is not purely altruistic. Stability serves China’s long-term strategic ambitions, including the protection of its Belt and Road investments and maritime routes. At the same time, Beijing remains alert to India’s growing diplomatic footprint in the region. Should India deepen its engagement with Iran and other Gulf actors, it could gradually reshape the strategic balance in areas traditionally influenced by China.

India’s approach, in contrast, reflects a confident and increasingly sophisticated foreign policy. By engaging Iran directly, while maintaining working relationships with Western powers, New Delhi is positioning itself as a credible intermediary. This is not merely about energy security, though that remains a key driver. It is also about strategic autonomy the ability to act independently in a multipolar world. India’s diplomacy signals that it is no longer a passive player but an active shaper of regional outcomes. Its engagement with Iran, particularly in the context of connectivity and trade routes, underscores its intent to secure long-term strategic access while countering potential encirclement.

Iran, for its part, views the situation through the lens of survival and strategic resilience. Years of sanctions and pressure have shaped a cautious but pragmatic diplomatic posture. Engagement with external actors, including India and China, provides Tehran with avenues to ease isolation and assert relevance. However, Iran’s trust deficit remains significant. Its diplomacy is transactional, focused on immediate gains rather than long-term alignment. The current environment offers opportunities for tactical advantage, but Iran is unlikely to make concessions that could compromise its core strategic objectives.

Even actors on the periphery, such as North Korea, are closely observing these developments. Pyongyang interprets global events through a narrow but consistent framework: regime survival through deterrence. The situation around Iran reinforces its belief that leverage, particularly military capability, is a prerequisite for meaningful negotiation. While North Korea is not directly involved, it draws lessons that may shape its own strategic calculations.

What emerges from these varied perspectives is a clear departure from traditional bloc-based geopolitics. The world is moving towards a more fluid and fragmented order, where alignments are temporary and issue-specific. States cooperate on certain matters while competing with others. This creates a dynamic but unpredictable environment, where misinterpretation and miscalculation remain constant risks.

It is within this evolving context that Sri Lanka’s strategic relevance becomes increasingly visible. The recent visit by the US Special Envoy for South and Central Asia, Sergio Gor, to the Colombo Port; is not a routine diplomatic courtesy call. It is a signal. Ports are no longer just commercial gateways; they are strategic assets embedded in global power competition. A visit of this nature underscores how Sri Lanka’s maritime infrastructure is being viewed through a geopolitical lens particularly in relation to sea lane security, logistics, and regional influence.

Such engagements reflect a broader reality: global powers are not only watching the Strait of Hormuz but are also positioning themselves along the wider Indian Ocean network that connects it. Colombo, situated along one of the busiest east–west shipping routes, becomes part of this extended strategic theatre. The presence and interest of external actors in Sri Lanka’s ports highlight an emerging pattern of influence without overt control a hallmark of modern strategic diplomacy.

For Sri Lanka, these developments are far from abstract. The island’s strategic location along major Indian Ocean shipping routes places it at the intersection of these global currents. The Strait of Hormuz is a vital artery for global energy flows, and any disruption would have immediate consequences for Sri Lanka’s economy, particularly in terms of fuel prices and supply stability.

Moreover, Sri Lanka must manage the competing interests of larger powers operating within its vicinity. India’s expanding regional role, China’s entrenched economic presence, and the growing attention from the United States all converge in the Indian Ocean. This requires a careful balancing act. Aligning too closely with any one power risks alienating others, while inaction could leave Sri Lanka vulnerable to external pressures.

The appropriate response lies in adopting a robust foreign policy that engages all major stakeholders while preserving national autonomy. This involves strengthening diplomatic channels, enhancing maritime security capabilities, and investing in strategic foresight. Sri Lanka must also recognise the growing importance of non-traditional security domains, including cyber threats and information warfare, which increasingly accompany geopolitical competition.

Equally important is the need for internal coherence. Effective diplomacy abroad must be supported by institutional strength at home. Policy consistency, professional expertise, and strategic clarity are essential if Sri Lanka is to navigate an increasingly complex international environment.

The situation in the Strait of Hormuz thus serves as both a warning and an opportunity. It highlights the fragility of global systems, but also underscores the potential for skilled diplomacy to manage tensions. For Sri Lanka, the challenge is not merely to observe these developments, but to position itself wisely within them.

In a world where power is no longer exercised solely through force, but through influence and presence, strategic diplomacy becomes not just an option, but a necessity. The nations that succeed will be those that understand this shift now and act with clarity, balance, and foresight.

Mahil Dole is a senior Sri Lankan police officer with over four decades of experience in law enforcement and intelligence. He previously served as Head of the Counter-Terrorism Division of the State Intelligence Service and has conducted extensive interviews with more than 100 suicide cadres linked to terrorist organisations. He is a graduate of the Asia-Pacific Centre for Security Studies (Hawaii).

By Mahil Dole
Senior Police Officer (Retd.), Former Head of Counter-Terrorism Division, State Intelligence Service, Sri Lanka