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A visit to Marga

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By Uditha Devapriya

“The ideological direction of the journal will be radical in that it will unremittingly question the values and systems that hinder development. It stands for an equitable and humane social order which will eradicate social and economic privilege and which will leave no room for the concentration and arbitrary exercise of power in any form.”

“About Marga”, Marga Journal, Volume I, 1971

A random jaunt in Borella took me and my research assistant to Marga Institute, in my old hometown at Kotte. Sri Lanka’s oldest development think-tank – and Sri Lanka’s oldest such institution – Marga was formed in 1971 to promote and facilitate research into the island’s socioeconomic problems. That its founding coincided with the first JVP insurrection is not fortuitous: as Gamini Samaranayake would point out, the insurrection proved for the first time that an armed group could threaten the State. Among other commentators, Gamini Keerawella, Gananath Obeyesekere, Fred Halliday, and Hector Abhayavardhana grappled with the JVP’s origins, what it was doing, and where it intended to go. It was in the midst of these often-fiery debates and discussions that Marga came to be.

Marga’s origins were linked to two distinct but interrelated developments: the expansion of the country’s welfare system and social services, and the displacement of the old colonial elite. The turning point, obviously, was 1956: a year which, as I have written before, meant many things to many people. Yet whatever the political repercussions of the nationalist-populist wave that swept across the country in its wake, the 1956 election led to a shift in the country’s economic trajectory. This shift may or may not have completely uprooted the old order: as Regi Siriwardena noted in a response to Kumari Jayawardena, 1956 “diverted the discontent of the ‘underprivileged’ into false channels, and thus helped to preserve the fundamental class structure intact.” But its consequences were profound.

The repercussions of these developments were felt more tangibly in the 1960s. During that decade, the country’s population rose by 2.6 million, more than a quarter. This exerted a significant pressure on productive capacity and social services – or to be more specific, as Gamani Corea observed, on “education, health, and other facilities in the social sphere, and above all employment opportunities.” It did not help that the university system was rapidly expanding as well: from 1950 to 1965 the student population rose from a meagre 2,000 to a massive 10,000. What these figures indicate was that more and more people were entering the education system and benefitting from social services, even as the country’s productive capacity was stagnating: it was in this period that Sri Lanka experienced a severe balance of payments crisis, compelling the IMF to form an Aid Group for the country.

                                                                                                                        LSSP stalwarts 

The country, in other words, was facing a classic developmental cul-de-sac. Its social welfare schemes were growing to unsustainable levels, but the economy was not generating the surpluses needed to maintain them. This was as true of university education as of primary and secondary education: from 1956 to 1963, the number of students enrolled in primary and secondary schools jumped from a little less than 170,000 to almost 250,000. Statistics, however, tell us only part of the story: what is more important are the social groups which benefitted from these developments. Simply put, reforms such as the Sinhala Only Act, the nationalisation of schools, and the introduction of the vernacular as a medium of instruction entrenched a Sinhala petty bourgeoisie. This petty bourgeoisie, as Gamini Keerawella has aptly observed, “educated their children in the firm expectation that it was the best possible investment.” A JVP pamphlet from 1970 underlies these expectations clearly:

“Our poor parents having a thousand and one hopes for us spent the fruits of the sweat of their labour on education instead of spending it on food or clothing or building a house. We studied hard, keeping up in the nights, till our eyes ached. We sat examinations. We passed examinations. We obtained degrees… Finally, as a punishment we were forced to loiter in the streets and face the insults and the laughter of the capitalists.”

The contradiction here was an echo or a microcosm of the contradictions buttressing the economy. It was, broadly, a problem of industrialisation, or the lack thereof. An exporter of primary commodities, Sri Lanka had waded through several booms, busts, and slumps since independence. In fact, contrary to what commentators and writers who should know better argue, the economy was stagnating even before 1948: despite a somewhat impressive array of road and rail networks, the country had been run down to the ground by a century and a half of plantation colonialism. There are several ways of diagnosing this problem, and there were fierce debates over what could resolve it: some felt that the plantation sector needed to be encouraged, in the hope it would spur growth. Yet such a prognosis – a trickle-down theory rehashed for settler states – could not resolve the dilemma of a sector which thrived on the very impoverishment of rest of the economy.

In 1957 a group of economists visited Sri Lanka. The group included Joan Robinson and John K. Galbraith. Keynesian in their outlook, they made a sweeping set of recommendations for the country. In the course of her study, the Cambridge educated Robinson made a remark about the country which economists and historians keep returning to: she bluntly observed that “you Ceylonese had eaten the fruit before you planted the tree.” Those quoting her, however, have failed to place this remark in its proper context: Robinson was writing about trade unions, and she was referring to their demand for a greater share of profits and the absence of “energetic, enterprising, and thrifty capitalists” who could be expected to share those profits. Her statement showed clearly that whatever “native capitalists” that Sri Lanka had were not capable of spurring the kind of growth which the country needed, particularly in the face of an expanding public sector and social welfare system.

The Sri Lankan Left tried to tackle this issue in its own special way. It advocated State intervention and the socialisation of the means of production. Yet the Left was undone by two fundamental contradictions. On the one hand, while it had enjoyed some support among the rural masses through the plantation community, the UNP government, facing a formidable threat to their interests, stripped this community of their citizenship, rendering them stateless overnight. On the other hand, the S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike government’s mobilisation of Sinhala nationalist forces deprived the Left of a rural progressive-populist base, and stunted whatever links it had established between the working class and the rural middle-class, or between nationalist and anti-imperialist forces. This made the Left more amenable to the idea of electoral compromise, paving the way for a rapprochement with the SLFP which would divide, weaken, and eventually cripple it.

In any case, the newly emerging rural middle classes in the 1960s spoke a different language and needed to be pandered to by a different political setup. Despite the breakup of the Communist Party into Russian and Chinese factions, there was a perception, widely shared, that neither the comprador elite nor the mainstream Left could resolve the problems of the     country. The breakup of the Communist Party and the LSSP’s decision to align with the SLFP led to a tenuous debate in the Left, a debate that was temporarily lulled by the formation of the Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP). Whatever illusions the old liberal elite and the Old Left – much of which, after all, hailed from the same Westernised and urban background – shared at this point were fundamentally at odds with the aspirations and the anxieties of the classes which these new parties sought to represent. To quote Regi Siriwardena, “the JVP and the LTTE were children of a different political culture.”

The Old Left had its own views of the JVP, which need not concern us here. Suffice it to say that while the LSSP’s main theoretician, Hector Abhayavardhana, castigated the JVP for veering to the right of right-wing governments and the left of left-wing governments, the likes of N. M. Perera and Colvin R. de Silva summoned the bogey of CIA sponsored military coups to tar the party as a right-wing conspiracy against a left-wing government. This was of course the obverse of what was happening: a left-wing government, elected on a popular mandate, had been threatened by a left-wing group. The JVP, for its part and in pursuit of electoral popularity, equated the UNP with the SLFP, drumming up support among sections of the middle-class, or rural petty bourgeoisie, who had felt let down by both parties. It was in light of these developments that the need for a development research institution, which could examine the country’s developmental dilemmas, was first articulated. Marga Institute emerged from these discussions. Given the scale and complexity of the issues it was seeking solutions for, its contribution had to be seminal, significant, substantive.

The very first issue of the Marga Journal outlined these problems and dilemmas. Edited by Godfrey Gunatilleke, the Journal was overseen by a Board of Management which included Regi Siriwardena and Gamani Corea. The first issue contained articles by some of the top intellectual minds of the day, including Ralph Pieris. The introduction set the tone for the rest of the Journal: in its first paragraph, it pointed out that compared to “the intellectual activity in most other developing countries, Ceylon had little to offer in the form of serious writing by Ceylonese on contemporary social and economic problems.” It then went on to point out the need “for a more productive and socially responsive intellectual community”, which could facilitate research into these problems. In this context, Marga set as its aim the promotion of “the conditions for the growth of a more active intellectual community” in the country. The editorial, however, was aware of the financing issues that could beset such an endeavour, and to this end recommended that it “establish a fund which will initially help to maintain the journal till it is established on a sound financial basis.”

Over the next few decades, Marga’s contribution to development research remained, to say the least, substantive. It set the tone and the pace for other institutions, both independent and State-funded, and became something of a landmark in the context of civil society and academia in the country. To say that is not to belittle, still less ignore, the convulsions in civil society and academia which the institute had to wade through: as Vinod Moonesinghe has observed in a research paper, the neoliberalisation of the country’s economy after 1977 led to a fundamental shift in the way civil society outfits, especially NGOs, operated. Many of these outfits developed a “hegemonic identity” that was more political than economic, or more “rights” oriented than “development” oriented. Ahilan Kadirgamar’s point about the evolution of these institutions, that there has been “a shift away from analysing agriculture and food which research centres focused on four decades ago”, can be reiterated here as well. In that light, Marga remains defiantly symbolic of the alternative paths that think-tank outfits, especially those concerned with development, could have traversed.

This country urgently needs a rehaul if not overhaul of the idea of development, research institutions, and think-tanks. The shift to private sector funding and State patronage – the latter, in my view, much less onerous than the former – has led to a few think-tanks and institutions, concentrated in Colombo and limited to the English-speaking elite and middle-classes, dominating civil society discourse in the country. Organisations like Marga showed that it was possible, in the context of their time, to rethink development, and to raise not just the material-economic but also the moral-ethical dimensions of growth in the Global South. But that was a time when economics was dominated by figures like Gamani Corea, S. B. D. de Silva, and G. V. S. de Silva. Godfrey Gunatilleke, the founder of Marga, is very much active, an indefatigable contributor to development debates in this country. Yet such voices are few and far between. To continue their legacy, to add to what they have contributed, it is necessary to rethink development research. That is what Marga once did, what Marga can once again do, and what Marga in fact should be doing.

The writer is an international relations analyst, researcher, and columnist who can be reached at udakdev1@gmail.com.



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Features

Following the Money: Tourism’s revenue crisis behind the arrival numbers – PART II

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(Article 2 of the 4-part series on Sri Lanka’s tourism stagnation)

If Sri Lanka’s tourism story were a corporate income statement, the top line would satisfy any minister. Arrivals went up 15.1%, targets met, records broke. But walk down the statement and the story darkens. Revenue barely budges. Per-visitor yield collapses. The money that should accompany all those arrivals has quietly vanished, or, more accurately, never materialised.

This is not a recovery. It is a volume trap, more tourists generating less wealth, with policymakers either oblivious to the math or unwilling to confront it.

Problem Diagnosis: The Paradox of Plenty:

The numbers tell a brutal story.

Read that again: arrivals grew 15.1% year-on-year, but revenue grew only 1.6%. The average tourist in 2025 left behind $181 less than in 2024, an 11.7% decline. Compared to 2018, the drop is even sharper. In real terms, adjusting for inflation and currency depreciation, each visitor in 2025 generates approximately 27-30% less revenue than in 2018, despite Sri Lanka being “cheaper” due to the rupee’s collapse. This is not marginal variance. This is structural value destruction. (See Table 1)

The math is simple and damning: Sri Lanka is working harder for less. More tourists, lower yield, thinner margins. Why? Because we have confused accessibility with competitiveness. We have made ourselves “affordable” through currency collapse and discounting, not through value creation.

Root Causes: The Five Mechanisms of Value Destruction

The yield collapse is not random. It is the predictable outcome of specific policy failures and market dynamics.

1. Currency Depreciation as False Competitiveness

The rupee’s collapse post-2022 has made Sri Lanka appear “cheap” to foreigners. A hotel room priced at $100 in 2018 might cost $70-80 in effective purchasing power today due to depreciation. Tour operators have aggressively discounted to fill capacity during the crisis recovery.

This creates the illusion of competitiveness. Arrivals rise because we are a “bargain.” But the bargain is paid for by domestic suppliers, hotels, transport providers, restaurants, staff, whose input costs (energy, food, imported goods) have skyrocketed in rupee terms while room rates lag in dollar terms.

The transfer is explicit: value flows from Sri Lankan workers and businesses to foreign tourists. The tourism “recovery” extracts wealth from the domestic economy rather than injecting it.

2. Market Composition Shift: Trading European Yields for Asian Volumes

SLTDA data shows a deliberate (or accidental—the policy opacity makes it unclear) shift in source markets. (See Table 2)

The problem is not that we attract Indians or Russians, it is that we attract them without strategies to optimise their yield. As the next article in this series will detail, Indian tourists average approximately 5.27 nights compared to the 8-9 night overall average, with lower per-day spending. We have built recovery on volume from price-sensitive segments rather than value from high-yield segments.

This is a choice, though it appears no one consciously made it. Visa-free entry, aggressive India-focused marketing, and price positioning have tilted the market mix without any apparent analysis of revenue implications.

3. Length of Stay Decline and Activity Compression

Average length of stay has compressed. While overall averages hover around 8-9 nights in recent years, the composition matters. High-yield European and North American tourists who historically spent 10-12 nights are now spending 7-9. Indian tourists spend 5-6 nights.

Shorter stays mean less cumulative spending, fewer experiences consumed, less distribution of value across the tourism chain. A 10-night tourist patronises multiple regions, hotels, guides, restaurants. A 5-night tourist concentrates spending in 2-3 locations, typically Colombo, one beach, one cultural site.

The compression is driven partly by global travel trends (shorter, more frequent trips) but also by Sri Lanka’s failure to develop compelling multi-day itineraries, adequate inter-regional connectivity, and differentiated regional experiences. We have not given tourists reasons to stay longer.

4. Infrastructure Decay and Experience Degradation

Tourists pay for experiences, not arrivals. When experiences degrade, airport congestion, poor road conditions, inadequate facilities at cultural sites, safety concerns, spending falls even if arrivals hold.

The 2024-2025 congestion at Bandaranaike International Airport, with reports of tourists nearly missing flights due to bottlenecks, is the visible tip. Beneath are systemic deficits: poor last-mile connectivity to tourism sites, deteriorating heritage assets, unregistered businesses providing sub-standard services, outbound migration of trained staff.

An ADB report notes that tourism authorities face resource shortages and capital expenditure embargoes, preventing even basic facility improvements at major revenue generators like Sigiriya (which charges $36 per visitor and attracts 25% of all tourists). When a site generates substantial revenue but lacks adequate lighting, safety measures, and visitor facilities, the experience suffers, and so does yield.

5. Leakage: The Silent Revenue Drain

Tourism revenue figures are gross. Net foreign exchange contributions after leakages, is rarely calculated or published.

Leakages include:

· Imported food, beverages, amenities in hotels (often 30-40% of operating costs)

· Foreign ownership and profit repatriation

· International tour operators taking commissions upstream (tourists book through foreign platforms that retain substantial margins)

· Unlicensed operators and unregulated businesses evading taxes and formal banking channels

Industry sources estimate leakages can consume 40-60% of gross tourism revenue in developing economies with weak regulatory enforcement. Sri Lanka has not published comprehensive leakage studies, but all indicators, weak licensing enforcement, widespread informal sector activity, foreign ownership concentration in resorts, suggest leakages are substantial and growing.

The result: even the $3.22 billion headline figure overstates actual net contribution to the economy.

The Way Forward: From Volume to Value

Reversing the yield collapse requires

systematic policy reorientation, from arrivals-chasing to value-building.

First

, publish and track yield metrics as primary KPIs. SLTDA should report:

· Revenue per visitor (by source market, by season, by purpose)

· Average daily expenditure (disaggregated by accommodation, activities, food, retail)

· Net foreign exchange contribution after documented leakages

· Revenue per room night (adjusted for real exchange rates)

Make these as visible as arrival numbers. Hold policy-makers accountable for yield, not just volume.

Second

, segment markets explicitly by yield potential. Stop treating all arrivals as equivalent. Conduct market-specific yield analyses:

· Which markets spend most per day?

· Which stays longest?

· Which distributes spending across regions vs. concentrating in Colombo/beach corridors?

· Which book is through formal channels vs. informal operators?

Target marketing and visa policies accordingly. If Western European tourists spend $250/day for 10 nights while another segment spends $120/day for 5 nights, the revenue difference ($2,500 vs. $600) dictates where promotional resources should flow.

Third

, develop multi-day, multi-region itineraries with compelling value propositions. Tourists extend stays when there are reasons to stay. Create integrated experiences:

· Cultural triangle + beach + hill country circuits with seamless connectivity

· Themed tours (wildlife, wellness, culinary, adventure) requiring 10+ days

· Regional spread of accommodation and experiences to distribute economic benefits

This requires infrastructure investment, precisely what has been neglected.

Fourth

, regulations to minimise leakages. Enforce licensing for tourism businesses. Channel bookings through formal operators registered with commercial banks. Tax holiday schemes should prioritise investments that maximise local value retention, staff training, local sourcing, domestic ownership.

Fifth

, stop using currency depreciation as a competitive strategy. A weak rupee makes Sri Lanka “affordable” but destroys margins and transfers wealth outward. Real competitiveness comes from differentiated experiences, quality standards, and strategic positioning, not from being the “cheapest” option.

The Hard Math: What We’re Losing

Let’s make the cost explicit. If Sri Lanka maintained 2018 per-visitor spending levels ($1,877) on 2025 arrivals (2.36 million), revenue would be approximately $4.43 billion, not $3.22 billion. The difference: $1.21 billion in lost revenue, value that should have been generated but wasn’t.

That $1.21 billion is not a theoretical gap. It represents:

· Wages not paid

· Businesses not sustained

· Taxes not collected

· Infrastructure not funded

· Development not achieved

This is the cost of volume-chasing without yield discipline. Every year we continue this model; we lock in value destruction.

The Policy Failure: Why Arrivals Theater Persists

Why do policymakers fixate on arrivals when revenue tells the real story?

Because arrivals are politically legible. A minister can tout “record tourist numbers” in a press conference. Revenue per visitor requires explanation, context, and uncomfortable questions about policy choices.

Arrivals are easy to manipulate upward, visa-free entry, aggressive discounting, currency depreciation. Yield is hard, it requires product development, market curation, infrastructure investment, regulatory enforcement.

Arrivals theater is cheaper and quicker than strategic transformation. But this is governance failure at its most fundamental. Tourism’s contribution to economic recovery is not determined by how many planes land but by how much wealth each visitor creates and retains domestically. Every dollar spent celebrating arrival records while ignoring yield collapse is a waste of dollars.

The Uncomfortable Truth

Sri Lanka’s tourism “boom” is real in volume, but it is a value bust. We are attracting more tourists and generating less wealth. The industry is working harder for lower returns. Margins are compressed, staff are paid less in real terms, infrastructure decays, and the net contribution to national recovery underperforms potential.

This is not sustainable. Eventually, operators will exit. Quality will degrade further. The “affordable” positioning will shift to “cheap and deteriorating.” The volume will follow yield down.

We have two choices: acknowledge the yield crisis and reorient policy toward value creation or continue arrivals theater until the hollowness becomes undeniable.

The money has spoken. The question is whether anyone in power is listening.

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Misinterpreting President Dissanayake on National Reconciliation

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President Dissanayake

President Anura Kumara Dissanayake has been investing his political capital in going to the public to explain some of the most politically sensitive and controversial issues. At a time when easier political choices are available, the president is choosing the harder path of confronting ethnic suspicion and communal fears. There are three issues in particular on which the president’s words have generated strong reactions. These are first with regard to Buddhist pilgrims going to the north of the country with nationalist motivations. Second is the controversy relating to the expansion of the Tissa Raja Maha Viharaya, a recently constructed Buddhist temple in Kankesanturai which has become a flashpoint between local Tamil residents and Sinhala nationalist groups. Third is the decision not to give the war victory a central place in the Independence Day celebrations.

Even in the opposition, when his party held only three seats in parliament, Anura Kumara Dissanayake took his role as a public educator seriously. He used to deliver lengthy, well researched and easily digestible speeches in parliament. He continues this practice as president. It can be seen that his statements are primarily meant to elevate the thinking of the people and not to win votes the easy way. The easy way to win votes whether in Sri Lanka or elsewhere in the world is to rouse nationalist and racist sentiments and ride that wave. Sri Lanka’s post independence political history shows that narrow ethnic mobilisation has often produced short term electoral gains but long term national damage.

Sections of the opposition and segments of the general public have been critical of the president for taking these positions. They have claimed that the president is taking these positions in order to obtain more Tamil votes or to appease minority communities. The same may be said in reverse of those others who take contrary positions that they seek the Sinhala votes. These political actors who thrive on nationalist mobilisation have attempted to portray the president’s statements as an abandonment of the majority community. The president’s actions need to be understood within the larger framework of national reconciliation and long term national stability.

Reconciler’s Duty

When the president referred to Buddhist pilgrims from the south going to the north, he was not speaking about pilgrims visiting long established Buddhist heritage sites such as Nagadeepa or Kandarodai. His remarks were directed at a specific and highly contentious development, the recently built Buddhist temple in Kankesanturai and those built elsewhere in the recent past in the north and east. The temple in Kankesanturai did not emerge from the religious needs of a local Buddhist community as there is none in that area. It has been constructed on land that was formerly owned and used by Tamil civilians and which came under military occupation as a high security zone. What has made the issue of the temple particularly controversial is that it was established with the support of the security forces.

The controversy has deepened because the temple authorities have sought to expand the site from approximately one acre to nearly fourteen acres on the basis that there was a historic Buddhist temple in that area up to the colonial period. However, the Tamil residents of the area fear that expansion would further displace surrounding residents and consolidate a permanent Buddhist religious presence in the present period in an area where the local population is overwhelmingly Hindu. For many Tamils in Kankesanturai, the issue is not Buddhism as a religion but the use of religion as a vehicle for territorial assertion and demographic changes in a region that bore the brunt of the war. Likewise, there are other parts of the north and east where other temples or places of worship have been established by the military personnel in their camps during their war-time occupation and questions arise regarding the future when these camps are finally closed.

There are those who have actively organised large scale pilgrimages from the south to make the Tissa temple another important religious site. These pilgrimages are framed publicly as acts of devotion but are widely perceived locally as demonstrations of dominance. Each such visit heightens tension, provokes protest by Tamil residents, and risks confrontation. For communities that experienced mass displacement, military occupation and land loss, the symbolism of a state backed religious structure on contested land with the backing of the security forces is impossible to separate from memories of war and destruction. A president committed to reconciliation cannot remain silent in the face of such provocations, however uncomfortable it may be to challenge sections of the majority community.

High-minded leadership

The controversy regarding the president’s Independence Day speech has also generated strong debate. In that speech the president did not refer to the military victory over the LTTE and also did not use the term “war heroes” to describe soldiers. For many Sinhala nationalist groups, the absence of these references was seen as an attempt to diminish the sacrifices of the armed forces. The reality is that Independence Day means very different things to different communities. In the north and east the same day is marked by protest events and mourning and as a “Black Day”, symbolising the consolidation of a state they continue to experience as excluding them and not empathizing with the full extent of their losses.

By way of contrast, the president’s objective was to ensure that Independence Day could be observed as a day that belonged to all communities in the country. It is not correct to assume that the president takes these positions in order to appease minorities or secure electoral advantage. The president is only one year into his term and does not need to take politically risky positions for short term electoral gains. Indeed, the positions he has taken involve confronting powerful nationalist political forces that can mobilise significant opposition. He risks losing majority support for his statements. This itself indicates that the motivation is not electoral calculation.

President Dissanayake has recognized that Sri Lanka’s long term political stability and economic recovery depend on building trust among communities that once peacefully coexisted and then lived through decades of war. Political leadership is ultimately tested by the willingness to say what is necessary rather than what is politically expedient. The president’s recent interventions demonstrate rare national leadership and constitute an attempt to shift public discourse away from ethnic triumphalism and toward a more inclusive conception of nationhood. Reconciliation cannot take root if national ceremonies reinforce the perception of victory for one community and defeat for another especially in an internal conflict.

BY Jehan Perera

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Recovery of LTTE weapons

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Sri Lanka Navy in action

I have read a newspaper report that the Special Task Force of Sri Lanka Police, with help of Military Intelligence, recovered three buried yet well-preserved 84mm Carl Gustaf recoilless rocket launchers used by the LTTE, in the Kudumbimalai area, Batticaloa.

These deadly weapons were used by the LTTE SEA TIGER WING to attack the Sri Lanka Navy ships and craft in 1990s. The first incident was in February 1997, off Iranativu island, in the Gulf of Mannar.

Admiral Cecil Tissera took over as Commander of the Navy on 27 January, 1997, from Admiral Mohan Samarasekara.

The fight against the LTTE was intensified from 1996 and the SLN was using her Vanguard of the Navy, Fast Attack Craft Squadron, to destroy the LTTE’s littoral fighting capabilities. Frequent confrontations against the LTTE Sea Tiger boats were reported off Mullaitivu, Point Pedro and Velvetiturai areas, where SLN units became victorious in most of these sea battles, except in a few incidents where the SLN lost Fast Attack Craft.

Carl Gustaf recoilless rocket launchers

The intelligence reports confirmed that the LTTE Sea Tigers was using new recoilless rocket launchers against aluminium-hull FACs, and they were deadly at close quarter sea battles, but the exact type of this weapon was not disclosed.

The following incident, which occurred in February 1997, helped confirm the weapon was Carl Gustaf 84 mm Recoilless gun!

DATE: 09TH FEBRUARY, 1997, morning 0600 hrs.

LOCATION: OFF IRANATHIVE.

FACs: P 460 ISRAEL BUILT, COMMANDED BY CDR MANOJ JAYESOORIYA

P 452 CDL BUILT, COMMANDED BY LCDR PM WICKRAMASINGHE (ON TEMPORARY COMMAND. PROPER OIC LCDR N HEENATIGALA)

OPERATED FROM KKS.

CONFRONTED WITH LTTE ATTACK CRAFT POWERED WITH FOUR 250 HP OUT BOARD MOTORS.

TARGET WAS DESTROYED AND ONE LTTE MEMBER WAS CAPTURED.

LEADING MARINE ENGINEERING MECHANIC OF THE FAC CAME UP TO THE BRIDGE CARRYING A PROJECTILE WHICH WAS FIRED BY THE LTTE BOAT, DURING CONFRONTATION, WHICH PENETRATED THROUGH THE FAC’s HULL, AND ENTERED THE OICs CABIN (BETWEEN THE TWO BUNKS) AND HIT THE AUXILIARY ENGINE ROOM DOOR AND HAD FALLEN DOWN WITHOUT EXPLODING. THE ENGINE ROOM DOOR WAS HEAVILY DAMAGED LOOSING THE WATER TIGHT INTEGRITY OF THE FAC.

THE PROJECTILE WAS LATER HANDED OVER TO THE NAVAL WEAPONS EXPERTS WHEN THE FACs RETURNED TO KKS. INVESTIGATIONS REVEALED THE WEAPON USED BY THE ENEMY WAS 84 mm CARL GUSTAF SHOULDER-FIRED RECOILLESS GUN AND THIS PROJECTILE WAS AN ILLUMINATER BOMB OF ONE MILLION CANDLE POWER. BUT THE ATTACKERS HAS FAILED TO REMOVE THE SAFETY PIN, THEREFORE THE BOMB WAS NOT ACTIVATED.

Sea Tigers

Carl Gustaf 84 mm recoilless gun was named after Carl Gustaf Stads Gevärsfaktori, which, initially, produced it. Sweden later developed the 84mm shoulder-fired recoilless gun by the Royal Swedish Army Materiel Administration during the second half of 1940s as a crew served man- portable infantry support gun for close range multi-role anti-armour, anti-personnel, battle field illumination, smoke screening and marking fire.

It is confirmed in Wikipedia that Carl Gustaf Recoilless shoulder-fired guns were used by the only non-state actor in the world – the LTTE – during the final Eelam War.

It is extremely important to check the batch numbers of the recently recovered three launchers to find out where they were produced and other details like how they ended up in Batticaloa, Sri Lanka?

By Admiral Ravindra C. Wijegunaratne
WV, RWP and Bar, RSP, VSV, USP, NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc (Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)
Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defence Staff
Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd
Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation
Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

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