Opinion
Amid winds and waves: Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean – III
Small-State Strategy: Navigating Asymmetry through Ambiguity
In navigating asymmetry through ambiguity, Sri Lanka’s experience is filtered through two deep and persistent frames that shape both its social consciousness and its foreign policy behaviour. The first is Sri Lanka’s long held an exaggerated sense of its own geopolitical indispensability. This perception, rooted in colonial and early postcolonial experiences, assumes that global powers view the island as a critical hub in the Indian Ocean. In practice, however, strategic value is fluid and shaped by technological and logistical developments. When Sri Lanka nationalised the British air base at Katunayake in 1956, the British swiftly developed the Gan base in the Maldives, illustrating that alternatives always exist. Over time, advances in aviation, satellite communication, and maritime technology have further reduced Sri Lanka’s earlier military and logistical centrality. Yet this inflated self-image continues to influence how decision-makers assess leverage and external engagement, often leading to overconfidence in negotiations and misjudged assumptions about international attention.
The second conditioning frame is a persistent belief that the international community is predisposed to harm or undermine Sri Lanka—whether due to ideological bias, geopolitical competition, or humanitarian critique. This perception has fostered a defensive, inward-looking national psyche that often interprets external pressure as existential threat rather than as opportunity for policy recalibration or reform.
Together, these two psycho-political frames—overestimation of strategic importance and an entrenched sense of external hostility—have deeply influenced Sri Lanka’s foreign policy behaviour. Successive political leaders have strategically mobilized these sentiments to consolidate domestic legitimacy, portraying themselves as protectors of sovereignty and national pride. However, this approach has also generated policy rigidity and self-imposed isolation. Ultimately, Sri Lankan leaders have become victims of their own narratives, as the very perceptions they cultivated for political survival have constrained the country’s strategic flexibility and reduced its capacity to engage pragmatically with an evolving international system.
In international relations scholarship, the foreign policy behaviour of small states has been a recurring site of inquiry for what it reveals about the exercise of agency under structural constraint. Classical realist and neorealist perspectives have tended to define small states primarily in terms of material capability deficits, emphasising their limited ability to shape systemic outcomes and their consequent need to navigate international hierarchies through alignment choices (Walt 1987; Rothstein 1968). Within this framework, strategies such as balancing, bandwagoning, hedging, and omni-enmeshment have been conceptualised as adaptive responses to external pressures (Schweller 1994; Kuik 2008). Yet, as critics of systemic determinism have argued, such typologies often obscure the domestic, ideational, and historical foundations of small-state behaviour (Hey 2003; Thorhallsson and Steinmetz 2017). More recent constructivist and post-structural approaches thus call attention to how small states actively construct their strategic identities, redefine vulnerability, and deploy narratives of autonomy or insecurity as instruments of statecraft (Ingebritsen 2006; Browning 2006). In this view, small states are not merely reactive but engage in continuous meaning-making processes that mediate between systemic constraints and national self-conceptions. Sri Lanka’s foreign policy behaviour, situated at the intersection of postcolonial identity, regional geopolitics, and domestic political contestation, illustrates this dynamic interplay between structural limitation and agential assertion—one that cannot be fully apprehended through systemic categories alone.
For Sri Lanka, smallness is not merely quantitative but situational: it derives from the island’s exposure to multiple centres of power within a confined maritime space. Geography ensures that external influence is perpetual; the challenge lies in managing its intensity. As such, Sri Lanka’s strategy cannot be understood simply as the pursuit of neutrality or non-alignment in a binary world. Rather, it represents a continuous process of interpretive balancing—adjusting posture and rhetoric in response to shifting configurations of regional and global power.
Central to Sri Lanka’s small-state outlook is a besieged mentality—a historically conditioned sense of vulnerability born from geography, colonial experiences, and post-independence insecurity. As an island adjacent to a continental giant and situated along vital sea-lanes, Sri Lanka has long perceived itself as simultaneously exposed and encircled. This strategic psychology has produced a defensive reflex in foreign policy: the pursuit of autonomy through caution, ambiguity, and balance.
This mentality does not imply passivity; rather, it provides the cognitive backdrop against which strategic choices are made. The fear of domination—by larger neighbours, external powers, or global institutions—has consistently shaped Sri Lanka’s diplomatic posture. It explains why successive governments have oscillated between engagement and withdrawal, openness and resistance. Whether confronting India’s regional predominance, Western human-rights pressures, or Chinese economic leverage, Sri Lankan leaders have tended to respond through a logic of managed uncertainty—keeping multiple relationships active while avoiding exclusive dependence.
In this sense, the besieged mentality functions as both constraint and catalyst. It constrains by fostering caution and a tendency toward defensive rhetoric, but it also catalyses creativity by compelling the search for diplomatic space in crowded strategic theatres. The result is a persistent preference for strategic ambiguity—a deliberate blurring of commitments that allows flexibility while signalling non-hostility to all sides. Sri Lanka’s small-state behaviour is not purely transactional; it is also profoundly normative. The island’s leaders have consistently justified diplomatic choices in the language of moral balance, restraint, and global peace. This moral vocabulary has allowed Colombo to elevate pragmatism into principle—to turn caution into an ethical stance.
D. S. Senanayake’s “Middle Path”
was the first clear expression of this ethos. As the country’s inaugural Prime Minister, Senanayake pursued moderation between rival power blocs, seeking cooperation without subordination. His vision of a balanced, independent foreign policy framed neutrality not as weakness, but as wisdom grounded in ethical restraint.
S. W. R. D. Bandaranaike
advanced this normative impulse through his aspiration to make Sri Lanka the “Switzerland of Asia.” His call for “Asian solidarity” and peaceful coexistence positioned the island as a moral actor in the decolonising world—one that could bridge East and West through principled neutrality and dialogue rather than alignment or confrontation.
Sirimavo Bandaranaike
gave this moral diplomacy its most ambitious institutional form through her leadership in the Non-Aligned Movement (NAM) and the Indian Ocean Peace Zone (IOPZ) proposal. Introduced in 1971, the IOPZ sought to transform the Indian Ocean into a demilitarised space dedicated to peace and development. This initiative embodied Sri Lanka’s attempt to recast small-state vulnerability as a platform for global moral leadership—an effort to shape international norms despite limited material power. Under her guidance, Colombo projected a peace-oriented identity that married normative aspiration with strategic foresight.
Together, these approaches reveal a continuous thread in Sri Lankan foreign policy: the fusion of strategic caution with ethical ambition. The “besieged mentality” of a small state has been reframed as a “peace drive”—the conviction that survival depends not only on careful calculation but on the ability to claim moral legitimacy in world affairs. In this sense, Sri Lanka exemplifies a broader small-state tradition in the Global South, where the projection of moral authority functions as a form of soft balancing. By framing neutrality as peace leadership, Colombo has sought to convert its lack of material power into diplomatic capital. This normative posture cannot erase vulnerability, but it provides a compelling language through which vulnerability can be managed, justified and reimagine.
However, the eruption of the ethnic conflict in the early 1980s fundamentally altered the trajectory of Sri Lanka’s foreign policy. The long-drawn war against the LTTE introduced an internal security crisis that reshaped Colombo’s external posture.
The diplomacy of moral balance and peace leadership gradually turned into the diplomacy of defence, justification, and damage control. The moral and peace-oriented diplomacy that had characterized Sri Lanka’s early decades was profoundly tested by the eruption of internal conflict. The ethnic crisis that escalated into civil war forced Colombo to shift its foreign policy focus from normative leadership to existential security. As the confrontation with the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) intensified, external relations were increasingly defined by the logic of the battlefield rather than the ideals of non-alignment. Diplomacy of principle and persuasion gradually had evolved into diplomacy of defence and justification. This transition marked a turning point in Sri Lanka’s foreign policy trajectory, as the island’s international engagement became dominated by the imperatives of war and survival.
From 1984 onward, the challenge posed by the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) became the dominant lens for Sri Lanka’s external relations. A foreign policy once anchored in non-alignment and regional cooperation gradually hardened into security-driven diplomacy. The pursuit of weapons and international recognition replaced earlier moral–normative ambitions. Colombo’s overriding priority became obtaining military assistance free from the human rights conditions imposed by Western partners. This pragmatic shift led Sri Lanka to cultivate ties with states willing to supply arms and intelligence on transactional terms. The long civil war thus reshaped both the priorities and methods of diplomacy: trade, development, and regional dialogue were increasingly viewed through a security lens. The search for external legitimacy mirrored the government’s domestic struggle for authority, marking a clear break from the island’s earlier idealism.
After the attacks of September 11, 2001, the global discourse on terrorism reshaped the international environment in ways that momentarily favored Colombo. The government successfully reframed its conflict with the LTTE within the emerging global war on terror, aligning its domestic struggle with a broader international narrative. Yet this new flexibility also deepened Sri Lanka’s dependence on selective bilateral partnerships, further eroding its earlier multilateral engagement. Where Sri Lanka had once sought to influence regional and global forums as a moral voice of the Indian Ocean—guided by the winds of non-alignment—it now navigated more turbulent waters, steering toward bilateral alliances dictated by immediate security needs.
The end of the civil war in May 2009 appeared to open a new chapter in Sri Lanka’s international relations. The military defeat of the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE) allowed the state to reassert territorial sovereignty and reimagine its strategic role within the Indian Ocean order. This post-war moment also revealed a deeper contradiction: the triumph of military victory coincided with a loss of international legitimacy. Freed from the immediate pressures of conflict, Colombo embarked on ambitious reconstruction and development initiatives, seeking partners beyond its traditional Western sphere.
Since the end of the war, Sri Lanka’s strategic position has evolved significantly, shaped by both its geostrategic location and the international response to alleged violations of International Humanitarian Law (IHL) during the final stages of the conflict. Western powers—particularly the United States, Britain, Canada, and the European Union—pressed Colombo to investigate alleged war crimes committed by both the government and the LTTE. These calls, gaining traction in global diplomatic forums, led to a marked deterioration in relations with Western capitals. Responding to a series of U.S.-backed resolutions at the UN Human Rights Council (UNHRC) became the central preoccupation of Sri Lanka’s post-war diplomacy. Driven by this overriding concern, Colombo increasingly aligned itself with powers capable of shielding it from Western diplomatic and economic pressure (Keerawella 2025)
In this context, relations with China acquired renewed politico-strategic significance. Beijing emerged as a principal defender of Sri Lanka in multilateral arenas, especially the UN Security Council, while simultaneously becoming the island’s largest source of foreign direct investment. Massive infrastructure projects—the Hambantota Port, Mattala Airport, the Southern Expressway, the Norochcholai coal power plant, and the Colombo South Harbour expansion—symbolized this deepening engagement. The 2013 Strategic Cooperative Partnership formalized cooperation across trade, finance, and strategic affairs, anchoring Sri Lanka more firmly within China’s sphere of influence. Alongside China, Pakistan and Russia offered diplomatic cover, reinforcing a pragmatic “Eastern turn” in Colombo’s diplomacy.
However, this reorientation came at a cost. Relations with the United States, the European Union, and India grew increasingly strained as accountability issues dominated international discussions. In response, Sri Lanka adopted a defensive diplomatic posture reminiscent of wartime rhetoric—reasserting sovereignty and rejecting external interference. Although official discourse shifted from war to peace and development, the underlying psychology of resistance persisted.
By 2015, the Yahapalana government sought to regain Sri Lanka’s lost international legitimacy by re-engaging with Western democracies and regional partners such as India, while preserving cooperative ties with China. This ambitious recalibration of foreign policy was closely intertwined with its commitment to domestic reconciliation and accountability mechanisms—objectives that had become central to restoring credibility abroad. Yet, these international undertakings soon collided with entrenched domestic political realities. Although the government introduced several initiatives to promote reconciliation and accountability, growing resistance in the South and divisions within the ruling coalition weakened their implementation. The Yahapalana leadership thus found itself caught between the crosswinds of international expectations and domestic opposition. Its inability to reconcile these competing pressures exposed the fragility of its consensus politics and ultimately left the government adrift—unable to sail successfully in either wind.
President Gotabaya Rajapaksa
, foreign policy again gravitated toward a more security-centered and China-friendly orientation, though domestic political and economic crises soon overwhelmed these ambitions. By the early 2020s, Sri Lanka found itself entangled—by design and by default—in the geopolitical currents of the Indian Ocean, its ports, debt obligations, and maritime position becoming focal points of great-power rivalry.
The emergence of the National Peoples’ Power (NPP) government marks yet another phase in Sri Lanka’s evolving foreign policy trajectory. Inheriting a complex political and strategic heritage, the new regime faces the enduring winds and waves of the Indian Ocean—an arena shaped by competing regional and global forces. As Karl Marx observed, “Men make their own history, but they do not make it as they please; they do not make it under self-selected circumstances, but under circumstances existing already, given and transmitted from the past. The tradition of all dead generations weighs like a nightmare on the brains of the living” (Marx 1852). This observation aptly captures the predicament confronting the NPP leadership: they must chart a new course in external relations while bearing the weight of accumulated legacies—strategic dependence, debt, and geopolitical vulnerability. Early indications suggest that the government is navigating these turbulent waters with caution, balancing idealistic aspirations for sovereignty and equity with the pragmatic necessity of engaging major powers in a volatile regional environment. Only time will reveal whether this cautious navigation will yield a more autonomous and principled foreign policy, or whether structural constraints will once again define the limits of Sri Lanka’s diplomatic agency.
The post-2009 era thus embodies both continuity and transformation. The moral–normative ideals of earlier decades—sovereignty, peace, and independence—continue to inform official discourse, but they now coexist uneasily with pragmatic alignments, economic dependency, and strategic vulnerability. Sri Lankan diplomacy seeks equilibrium in a multipolar world while remaining haunted by the psychological legacies of siege and moral loss. This ambivalent posture is not entirely new. During the Cold War, Colombo’s adherence to non-alignment masked a pragmatic recognition of regional realities: while championing anti-imperialist causes in global forums, Sri Lanka quietly cooperated with Western and Indian security interests to safeguard its own stability. The post-2009 period represents a contemporary parallel. As Chinese investment expanded under the Belt and Road Initiative, Sri Lanka sought to reassure India and the United States through parallel gestures—naval cooperation, affirmations of neutrality, and participation in Indo-Pacific dialogues—without formally aligning with any military bloc.
Such behaviour reflects a distinctive small-state hedging strategy: economic bandwagoning combined with political balancing. It aligns with the concept of “omni-enmeshment,” whereby smaller powers embed themselves in multiple, overlapping networks—economic, diplomatic, and security-related—to mitigate dependency on any single actor. For Sri Lanka, these networks encompass bilateral partnerships, multilateral institutions, and normative appeals to international law. Yet ambiguity carries its own risks. The flexibility that preserves autonomy can also generate mistrust among partners and domestic critics alike. The controversy over the 2017 Hambantota Port lease—often mischaracterized as a “debt trap”—illustrated the delicate balance between economic necessity and perceptions of sovereignty loss. Similarly, oscillations between alignments with India, China, and the West underscore the limits of strategic ambiguity when domestic institutions are weak and policy coherence erodes. (Part III to be published tomorrow)
By Chula Goonasekera,
on behalf of the LEADS Forum
Based on discussions with Ajith Wijemanna, Director General of the Department of Meteorology, and Kithsiri Abayasinghe, former Director of the Department of Meteorology
Sri Lanka may be facing another major natural challenge. Unlike many disasters, however, the warning signs are already visible, giving the country an opportunity to prepare before the situation becomes critical.
A recent discussion with two of Sri Lanka’s most experienced meteorologists highlighted concerns about the developing El Niño phenomenon and its potential consequences for the country. While no scientist can predict with certainty exactly how El Niño will evolve, current indications suggest the possibility of above-normal rainfall later this year, followed by reduced rainfall and potentially severe drought conditions in early 2027.
This is a warning Sri Lanka cannot afford to ignore.
Most Sri Lankans still remember the devastation caused by the Indian Ocean tsunami in December 2004. El Niño is fundamentally different. It does not arrive as a single catastrophic event. Instead, its effects can develop over many months, potentially bringing drought, water shortages, crop failures, extreme heat, wildfires, flooding and food insecurity.
The critical difference is that, unlike a tsunami, El Niño gives us time to prepare.
Sri Lanka therefore has a choice: act on the warnings now or pay a far greater price later.
We Must Not Wait for Disaster
The 2004 tsunami exposed Sri Lanka’s vulnerability to large-scale disasters and demonstrated the immense human and economic costs of inadequate preparedness.
El Niño cannot be prevented. However, many of its potentially damaging consequences can be reduced through early planning, effective coordination, public awareness and practical risk-reduction measures.
The purpose of this article is not to predict exactly what will happen. Rather, it is to ask a more important question:
Are we prepared for what could happen?
Depending on the intensity and evolution of El Niño, Sri Lanka could face:
· severe drought and prolonged dry spells;
· water shortages affecting households, agriculture and industry;
· reduced agricultural production and increased food insecurity;
· increased risks of forest and grassland fires;
· heatwaves and heat-related illness; and
· localised flooding caused by unusually heavy rainfall.
One threat deserves particular attention: wildfires.
During prolonged dry periods, fires can spread rapidly through forests and grasslands, destroying ecosystems, wildlife habitats, agricultural land, livelihoods and critical infrastructure, while placing enormous pressure on emergency services.
The lesson is straightforward: understanding potential worst-case scenarios before they occur greatly improves our ability to prevent them from becoming national catastrophes.
A Crucial Role for Disaster Management
We understand that Sri Lanka’s Disaster Management Centre (DMC) is already engaged in preparing the country for the potential impacts of a stronger El Niño event. Its focus must remain on helping communities prepare before emergencies arise, while ensuring that essential services continue to function during periods of crisis.
Disaster response and recovery come at a high cost to the public through government expenditure and taxpayer-funded resources. Investing in preparedness is therefore not only a humanitarian responsibility but also a sound economic strategy—particularly at a time when Sri Lanka continues to face considerable fiscal constraints and limited capacity to absorb another major shock.
The principle is clear:
Prevention is invariably less costly than recovery.
Every rupee invested in preparedness today can help prevent far greater social and economic losses tomorrow.
Listen to the Scientists
The public should pay close attention to forecasts and guidance issued by the Department of Meteorology.
At the same time, it is important to recognise that long-range forecasting is inherently complex. Climate systems involve countless interacting variables, many of which cannot be measured or predicted with complete accuracy months in advance.
When a forecast subsequently changes, this should not automatically be regarded as a failure of science. Forecasting is, by its nature, an assessment of probabilities and risks based on the best available evidence at a particular point in time.
The appropriate response is not to dismiss forecasts because they contain uncertainty, but to use them as tools for informed preparation.
What Should the Government Do?
The Government and relevant public institutions should urgently review Sri Lanka’s preparedness for drought, flooding, wildfires and extreme heat.
Key priorities should include:
· strengthening climate monitoring and early-warning systems;
· improving weather forecasting and public communication;
· developing comprehensive drought, flood and wildfire preparedness plans;
· enhancing reservoir, catchment and water-resource management;
· maintaining drainage infrastructure to reduce urban flooding;
· strengthening wildfire prevention, detection and response capabilities;
· investing in climate-resilient infrastructure; and
· establishing clear lines of responsibility and coordination among government agencies.
Coordination is particularly important. During a national emergency, citizens should never be left wondering which institution is responsible for taking action.
Water Security Must Be a National Priority
If prolonged dry conditions materialise, water security could become one of Sri Lanka’s most pressing challenges.
The country should strengthen groundwater protection, support the rehabilitation and maintenance of wells, and implement long-term water-security strategies in drought-prone regions. Such measures are important not only for human communities but also for agriculture, livestock and the natural ecosystems that sustain the country’s biodiversity.
Reservoirs and catchments must be managed carefully, while water conservation should be actively promoted among households, businesses, industries and farmers.
The key question is simple:
How much water will Sri Lanka require if the dry season lasts significantly longer than expected?
That question is far easier to answer before reservoirs begin to run dry.
Protecting Agriculture and Food Security
Agriculture remains highly vulnerable to drought and irregular rainfall. Significant disruption could result in rising food prices, reduced farm incomes and increased pressure on vulnerable households.
Sri Lanka should accelerate the adoption of drought-resistant crops, climate-smart farming techniques and efficient irrigation systems, including drip irrigation. Measures should also be taken to secure water and feed supplies for livestock, maintain strategic food reserves and strengthen weather-based advisory services for farmers.
Food security must be regarded not merely as an agricultural concern but as a matter of national resilience.
Preparing for Wildfires
Prolonged dry conditions can significantly increase wildfire risks. Sri Lanka must strengthen its capacity to prevent, detect and respond to fires before they escalate.
An effective strategy should rest on four pillars:
Prevention. Preparedness. Early detection. Rapid response.
Seasonal climate forecasts should be used to identify periods of heightened risk. Vegetation dryness, weather conditions and fire-prone regions should be monitored systematically, with modern technologies used wherever feasible.
Firebreaks should be established and maintained around vulnerable communities, forests and critical infrastructure. Dry vegetation and other combustible materials should be appropriately managed. Where environmentally and scientifically justified, carefully regulated controlled burning could also form part of an integrated fire-management strategy.
Human activity is responsible for many wildfires. During high-risk periods, open burning should therefore be restricted and unsafe land-clearing practices rigorously controlled. Public education campaigns should reinforce these measures.
Firefighting resources should be pre-positioned in high-risk areas before peak fire seasons begin. Adequate equipment and water supplies should be secured, and coordination strengthened among local authorities, fire services, forestry officials, disaster-management agencies and, where necessary, the armed forces.
Where practical and affordable, aerial firefighting capabilities should also be considered.
The guiding principle is straightforward:
Fight fires when they are small, rather than after they become uncontrollable.
Protecting Sri Lanka’s Natural Ecosystems
Healthy ecosystems are among the country’s most effective natural defences against climate stress.
Sri Lanka should protect wetlands and other water-retaining ecosystems, conserve forests, prevent unnecessary land clearing and fragmentation, and safeguard wildlife habitats from fire and degradation.
Forest conservation is not simply an environmental issue. It is central to water security, food security, biodiversity protection, public health and long-term national resilience.
Citizens Also Have a Responsibility
Preparedness cannot be the responsibility of government alone.
During dry periods, households should conserve water and avoid unnecessary waste. Communities should ensure that wells are cleaned, maintained and restored where necessary, particularly if prolonged disruptions to piped water supplies occur.
During periods of extreme heat, people should remain hydrated, avoid unnecessary outdoor activity and follow public health advice.
Families should maintain basic emergency plans and supplies. Communities in fire-prone areas should know evacuation routes and designated safe assembly points. Citizens should also avoid activities that could inadvertently start fires and remain alert to official warnings.
Particular attention should be given to vulnerable groups, including older people, people with disabilities and those with limited mobility. Communities should also be prepared for the health effects of wildfire smoke and deteriorating air quality.
From Response to Preparedness
Sri Lanka’s greatest challenge is not responding when disaster strikes. It is ensuring that natural hazards do not develop into national catastrophes.
This requires a fundamental shift from a culture of reaction to a culture of preparedness.
Government agencies, scientists, farmers, businesses, schools, community organisations and individual citizens all have important roles to play. A coordinated approach combining climate forecasting, land management, public education, community preparedness, early-warning systems and rapid emergency response can significantly reduce the risks posed by El Niño and other climate-related threats.
Even if severe drought conditions do not materialise, investments in preparedness will strengthen Sri Lanka’s resilience against future disasters. If severe conditions do occur, early preparation could save lives, protect livelihoods, reduce economic losses and prevent a difficult situation from escalating into a national crisis.
Sri Lanka has already learned, at enormous cost, the consequences of being unprepared. We should not wait for another disaster to teach us the same lesson.
The warning signs are present. The scientists are speaking. The risks are increasingly clear.
What remains is the political will and public commitment to act.
Preparation today will always cost less than recovery tomorrow.
After nearly 77 years of wildlife conservation, Sri Lanka must strengthen the institutions, professional leadership and political will needed to safeguard its natural heritage for generations to come.
By Dilum Alagiyawanna
Sri Lanka has a long and proud history of protecting its natural heritage. Generations of wildlife officers, forest officers, scientists, researchers, field staff and conservationists have worked, often under difficult circumstances, to protect our forests, wildlife and ecosystems. Their contribution deserves recognition and respect.
One important milestone in this journey came in October 1949, when the Wildlife department was established as a separate institution, following the Fauna and Flora Protection Ordinance of 1937 and the expansion of the country’s wildlife reserves. The creation of a dedicated department reflected an important recognition of the time: wildlife conservation required specialised institutional attention.
Today, nearly 77 years after its establishment, Sri Lanka has an opportunity not simply to reflect on that institutional journey, but to consider what kind of institutions and leadership we need for the next 75 years.
This is not an argument about the individuals currently holding positions in our conservation institutions. Nor is it intended to question the commitment, professionalism or sacrifices of the many public servants who have served these institutions over the years.
It is a broader institutional question.
What kind of leadership does Sri Lanka need to protect its natural heritage in the 21st century?
The issue is not who occupies a particular position today. It is whether our system of identifying, developing and appointing leaders is designed to meet the conservation challenges of tomorrow
A Changing conservation landscape
When many of our major conservation institutions were established, the principal challenges were relatively straightforward: establish protected areas, prevent poaching, enforce wildlife legislation and protect forests and wildlife from direct exploitation.
Those responsibilities remain fundamental.
But conservation today is considerably more complex.
Habitat fragmentation, expanding infrastructure, human-elephant conflict, climate change, invasive species, pollution, wildlife disease, road mortality, unplanned tourism and competing demands for land and water are placing increasing pressures on ecosystems.
Conservation can no longer be treated as an isolated environmental concern.
A highway can fragment a wildlife habitat. An irrigation project can alter an ecosystem. Poorly planned tourism can degrade a protected landscape. Agricultural expansion can affect wildlife movement. Climate change can alter species distributions, water availability and ecosystem resilience.
Conservation therefore intersects with agriculture, irrigation, energy, transport, tourism, disaster management, climate policy, land-use planning and national economic development.
It has become a multidisciplinary national policy challenge.
Beyond administration: What conservation leadership requires
There is nothing inherently wrong with a career public service.
Sri Lanka needs a professional, impartial and experienced public administration. Administrative knowledge, institutional memory and an understanding of government procedures are indispensable to the functioning of the State.
The question is whether administrative experience and seniority alone should be the principal criteria for leading institutions entrusted with complex living ecosystems and irreplaceable natural capital.
I believe they should not.
Leadership of major natural-resource institutions should combine administrative competence with scientific and technical understanding, field experience, strategic thinking, integrity, sound judgement and a demonstrated commitment to conservation outcomes.
This is not an argument for automatically replacing administrators with scientists. Nor is personal passion for nature, by itself, sufficient.
What Sri Lanka needs is mission-driven professional leadership.
A person leading a conservation institution should understand not only how to administer a government department, but also why that institution exists, what ecological outcomes it is expected to achieve and what may happen if those outcomes are not achieved.
Dr P. E. P. Deraniyagala: A legacy of scientific leadership
Sri Lanka’s own history provides a remarkable example of what can happen when scientific expertise, intellectual curiosity and institutional leadership come together.
Dr P. E. P. Deraniyagala was a zoologist, palaeontologist and naturalist whose contribution to Sri Lanka’s natural heritage extended far beyond the formal responsibilities of a government position.
He was appointed Director of the Colombo Museum in 1939 and, following the reorganisation of the museums, became the first Director of the Department of National Museums, a position he held until his retirement in 1963. His scientific work ranged from Sri Lanka’s living fauna to fossil elephants and other extinct prehistoric mammals.
It lies in what he brought to that position.
He brought scientific curiosity, intellectual independence, research capability and a lifelong commitment to understanding Sri Lanka’s natural heritage.
He did not simply administer an institution concerned with heritage. He contributed to the body of knowledge upon which our understanding of that heritage depended.
That is an important lesson for today.
Our conservation institutions must not merely administer conservation programmes. They must increasingly become knowledge-driven institutions capable of generating, interpreting and applying scientific evidence to management decisions.
From institutional continuity to institutional renewal
After nearly 77 years of experience, the appropriate response is not to criticise or dismantle the institutions that have served the country.
It is to ask how we can make them stronger, more scientifically capable, technologically advanced and better equipped for the next 75 years.
The challenges of 2026 are vastly different from those of 1949.
Satellite remote sensing, GIS, GPS telemetry, camera trapping, drones, genetic analysis, artificial intelligence and ecological modelling can transform how wildlife and ecosystems are understood and managed.
But technology alone cannot transform conservation.
Institutions need the scientific capacity to interpret information, the field capacity to collect reliable data and, above all, leadership capable of turning evidence into timely decisions.
A capable leader, however, also needs an institution with adequate resources, professional autonomy, scientific capacity and the authority to act. Leadership reform therefore cannot be reduced simply to changing individuals. It must also strengthen the institutional environment in which those individuals operate.
From species management to ecosystem stewardship
Sri Lanka must also move beyond a narrow concept of wildlife management.
An elephant is not simply an animal to be managed when it enters a village.
A leopard is not simply a species to be protected when a conflict occurs.
A forest is not simply a designated area on a map.
Each exists within a larger ecological system.
Effective conservation therefore requires landscape-level thinking: protecting habitats, maintaining ecological connectivity, securing watersheds, managing human activity and ensuring that development decisions properly account for ecological consequences.
Conservation expertise must therefore be incorporated into national development planning before decisions are made, rather than being brought into the process after environmental conflicts have already emerged.
Preventing conservation conflicts before they reach the courts
There is another reality that cannot be ignored.
For decades, conservationists, environmental organisations, researchers, professionals and concerned citizens have repeatedly found themselves having to seek administrative, political and sometimes judicial intervention when environmental concerns have not been adequately resolved through normal institutional processes.
The courts have consequently become an important safeguard for environmental protection.
But this should make us ask a deeper question.
Why should citizens repeatedly have to go to court to protect a forest, wildlife habitat, wetland or other environmentally sensitive area when the State already has institutions, laws, scientists and regulatory mechanisms designed to address these matters?
Judicial intervention is an essential component of a democratic system and an important safeguard for the public interest. But courts should not have to become the primary mechanism through which conservation policy is resolved, case by case.
A judicial determination necessarily operates within the legal and evidentiary framework before the court. It cannot substitute for a scientifically informed conservation policy or a strong institutional mechanism capable of identifying and resolving environmental risks at an early stage.
The objective should therefore be to build institutions strong enough to prevent many of these disputes from reaching the courtroom in the first place.
Conservationists and environmental organisations should ideally be able to engage with government institutions early in the decision-making process, supported by credible scientific evidence and transparent procedures, rather than being forced into the role of permanent opponents of the State.
Leadership that gets decisions right
This is precisely why Sri Lanka needs conservation leadership with the knowledge, independence, judgement and courage to make the right decisions at the right time.
Good conservation leadership is not simply about enforcing the law after a conflict has emerged.
It is about anticipating problems, understanding ecological consequences, identifying risks early and taking scientifically sound decisions before an issue becomes a political, social or legal dispute.
Sometimes the right decision may require saying no.
Sometimes it may require proposing a better alternative.
And sometimes it may require bringing scientists, communities, development agencies and political decision-makers together early enough to find a solution that protects both the public interest and the environment.
This is not about confrontation with governments or development.
It is about preventing unnecessary confrontation by getting the decision right in the first place.
The right leader can prevent a conservation problem from becoming an administrative problem, an administrative problem from becoming a political problem, and a political problem from ultimately becoming a legal dispute.
The best conservation decision is often the one that prevents the conflict from arising in the first place.
Conservation requires political will
Strong professional leadership, however, is not enough.
Conservation also requires political leadership with the vision, commitment and political will to support the right decisions, particularly when they may be difficult or politically inconvenient.
India’s Project Tiger, launched in 1973, provides a compelling example. The Government of India established the programme in response to the serious decline of tiger populations, creating a national conservation initiative that combined scientific management, protected areas and strong political commitment.
Indira Gandhi’s interest in environmental protection and her government’s support helped create the political conditions for major conservation initiatives during that period.
The lesson is not that political leaders should run conservation institutions.
It is the opposite.
Political leadership must create the space, authority and support for professional conservation institutions to do their job properly.
A scientifically sound decision made by a conservation institution can achieve little if political leadership is unwilling to stand behind it. Conversely, political will, working together with scientific and professional leadership, can turn a good conservation idea into a transformative national programme.
Sri Lanka needs both sides of this equation:
professional conservation leadership capable of making the right decisions, and political leadership with the will to support those decisions in the national interest.
The ideal relationship is not political interference in conservation.
It is political commitment to evidence-based conservation.
Natural Heritage Is National Capital
Sri Lanka’s natural resources should also be recognised as national capital.
Forests support water security.
Wetlands provide natural flood protection.
Healthy watersheds support agriculture and hydropower.
Biodiversity supports tourism.
Marine ecosystems support fisheries.
Intact landscapes provide resilience against climate-related disasters.
When these systems are degraded, the country incurs an economic cost.
The question should therefore not simply be:
How much will conservation cost?
It should also be:
How much will it cost Sri Lanka if we fail to conserve its natural capital?
This is why conservation expertise must be integrated into national development decision-making from the beginning.
Choosing the leaders for tomorrow
Sri Lanka does not lack people with knowledge, experience and commitment.
Our universities, research institutions, wildlife and forest services, professional organisations and civil society contain scientists, researchers, field practitioners and conservationists with considerable expertise.
What is needed is a system that allows this expertise to contribute more effectively to institutional leadership.
Future appointments to senior positions in natural-resource institutions should therefore consider more than administrative seniority.
They should consider:
Scientific and technical competence
Conservation and field experience
Strategic leadership
Institutional management capability
Integrity and independence
Understanding of communities and stakeholders
A demonstrated record of achieving meaningful outcomes
Such a system would not weaken the public service.
It would strengthen it by bringing administrative excellence and conservation excellence together.
The Wildlife Department is a useful lens through which to examine this broader question, but the issue extends far beyond wildlife. It concerns every institution entrusted with Sri Lanka’s forests, biodiversity, wetlands, coastal ecosystems, marine resources and other forms of natural capital.
What should Sri Lanka’s conservation institutions look like for the next 75 years?
Sri Lanka should be proud of the conservation institutions it has built since the middle of the last century.
But institutional pride should never become institutional complacency.
The establishment of the Wildlife Department in 1949 was itself an example of institutional adaptation. The country recognised that wildlife conservation had become sufficiently important and specialised to require a dedicated institution.
The same principle applies today.
The conservation challenges of 2026 are vastly different from those of 1949.
The answer is not to abandon what was built.
It is to evolve it.
We need conservation institutions that are stronger, more scientific, more innovative and better equipped to influence national development decisions.
We need leadership selection systems that recognise conservation as a specialised professional responsibility.
We need a public service in which administrative excellence is complemented by scientific expertise, field experience and a genuine commitment to conservation outcomes.
And we need political leadership with the vision and will to recognise that protecting natural capital is not an obstacle to national development, but an essential condition for sustainable national prosperity.
This is not about replacing individuals.
It is about building a better system for the future.
It is not about weakening existing institutions.
It is about strengthening them for the challenges ahead.
And it is not about choosing between development and conservation.
It is about ensuring that development does not destroy the natural capital upon which Sri Lanka’s long-term prosperity depends.
After nearly 77 years of dedicated wildlife conservation, perhaps this is the right moment to ask a fundamental question:
What should Sri Lanka’s conservation institutions look like for the next 75 years?
The answer should not reject the past.
It should be an ambitious evolution of it.
Because when the next generation looks back at our time, they will not judge us simply by how well we administered the institutions we inherited.
They will judge us by what forests remained standing, what species survived, what ecosystems remained intact, and whether we had the wisdom and courage to pass on Sri Lanka’s extraordinary natural heritage in better condition than we received it.
Author: Dilum Alagiyawanna is a telecommunications engineer turned environmental and wildlife conservationist, citizen scientist and wildlife documentary filmmaker. His work bridges science, public policy and sustainable development, with particular emphasis on the long-term conservation of Sri Lanka’s elephants and other threatened species.
On Monday 27 December 2021, according to a Flight Safety Foundation narrative, “Cessna 172L 4R-GAF (ex 4R-HDC) of Sakurai Aviation crash landed in a paddy field in Paththayam Watta, Kimbulapitiya, Negombo in the Gampaha district close to Bandaranaike International Airport (VCBI) after the aircraft suffered an engine RPM fluctuation and subsequent engine failure. Three of the four occupants were injured. The charter flight was on its way to Koggala Airport (VCCK) from Sigiriya Airport (VCCS) when the problems started to occur. It had initially taken off from Ratmalana Airport (VCCC) and was supposed to land there after departing Koggala Airport (VCCK). The flight was going to make an emergency landing at Bandaranaike International Airport (VCBI) but while the aircraft was descending the pilot in command informed the controller that he had no control over the engine power. During the final approach to runway 22 the pilot in command then declared a “MAYDAY” call and the aircraft crash landed soon after.”
The touchdown itself at the paddy field was safe but due to a concrete road, which was not visible from to air at low level and running across the field, the nose wheel hit it and broke off creating the destruction and injury.
With the economic recovery, the present government has started reconstructing the highways and expressways that were suspended in the recent past. In countries like the United States of America (USA) there are straight stretches of expressways and highways, at regular intervals, where light to medium size aircraft could safely land in an emergency unlike the accident described above. Not only that, that particular stretch of road is maintained by the local Regulating Authority like the Federal Aviation Administration (FAA) in the case of the USA.
A Safe Landing on an Expressway in India.
The Sri Lanka National Aviation Policy of 2017 also recommends that there should be helipads at regular intervals along the expressways/ highways to facilitate medical evacuation in case of motor accidents. It should be noted that the Minister in Charge of Aviation and Highways is one and the same
Will the Government spare a thought for safer multimodal transport especially when there is a push to make Domestic Aviation available for tourism? Or will it be just another pipe dream?
Capt. G A Fernando
Former member of the Accident Investigation Team, Civil Aviation Authority, Sri Lanka.(CAASL)
Immediate past President of Aircraft Owners and Operators Association, Sri Lanka. (AOAOA)
Nahida, Marufa help Bangladesh brush aside Indonesia
Showers will occur in the Western, Sabaragamuwa, Southern and Uva provinces and in Kandy and Nuwara-Eliya districts
Sun directly overhead Kalpitiya, Talawa, Sinharagama, Galkadawala, Nachchaduwa, Padikaramaduwa, Gomarankalla and Verugal about 12.10 noon today (01)
SJB asks what Speaker intended to do about allegations against CJ
Navy Chief attends strategic-level discussions in Delhi
ICRS: Sustained and collective efforts critical to address issue of missing persons
‘Dates have the highest sugar content to fight Coronavirus’
Sunday Island 27 December – Headlines
#SundayIsland 17th December – Headlines
Sunday Island – 28th March
Sunday Island Headlines – 21 March
Sunday Island – 21st February – Headlines
-
News4 days agoEight politicians in drug kingpin probe
-
Features2 days ago“Wrap Me Up in My Blazer”— A Gentlemanly Bradby Reminiscence
-
Business4 days agoSri Lanka opens up: A new season of direct connectivity
-
Features4 days agoRedefining ageing in Sri Lanka
-
Features6 days agoInsights from Chieftains of Uva: Genealogy of two Kandyan Families – Part II
-
Latest News5 days agoNepal-Tibet floods: What happened, what caused them and who is missing?
-
Editorial6 days agoWarning of power cuts: El Niño and corruption
-
Features6 days agoExport diversification: Missing the wood for the trees – Part I