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Amid winds and waves: Sri Lanka and the Indian Ocean – III

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Sirimavo / SWRD / DS

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)



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Opinion

Ranasighe Premadasa: Man of the Masses

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Premadasa

I was struck by the article written by MDD Pieris in The Sunday Island, under the title, “Free school uniform decision taken in minutes on a platform in Bakamuna” by President Premadasa. I am penning this piece as a tribute to this remarkable visionary in social development and grassroots economic policy, who was tragically assassinated by an LTTE suicide bomber in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.

The term of Sri Lanka’s first Executive President, J. R. Jayewardene (JRJ), was ending in 1989. As the constitution required, JRJ decided to call a presidential election. After some uncertainty within the United National Party (UNP) about who should be the next candidate, then-Party Chairman Ranjan Wijeratne and JRJ’s security advisor Ravi Jayewardene (JRJ’s only son) thought the best candidate was Prime Minister Ranasinghe Premadasa. They realised that the country was moving from elite-centred, Colombo-focused politics toward a more populist, grassroots and security-dominated phase.

They advised the President JRJ and party stalwarts accordingly.

At a UNP Parliamentary Group and Working Committee meeting, J. R. Jayewardene proposed Premadasa’s name. To maintain party unity and avoid an internal contest, he also arranged for Premadasa’s main political rivals from the UNP, Lalith Athulathmudali and Gamini Dissanayake, to second the nomination. This move made Premadasa the unanimous party choice.

Premadasa played a key role in the UNP’s landslide victory in the 1977 parliamentary election, boosting its grassroots membership through his “Man of the Masses” image. He was then appointed deputy leader of the party.

The second Presidential Election took place on December 19, 1988, amid severe unrest. The Janatha Vimukthi Peramuna (JVP) called for a boycott and staged a violent protest in the south.

Despite a low voter turnout and violence, the election went ahead, and Premadasa won a clear majority of valid votes, defeating main opposition candidate Sirimavo Bandaranaike from the SLFP. Ranasinghe Premadasa was sworn in on January 2, 1989, as Sri Lanka’s second executive president.

Premadasa was a strong nationalist who campaigned for the withdrawal of the Indian Peace Keeping Force (IPKF), whose presence was unpopular among the Sinhalese majority. He saw the Liberation Tigers of Tamil Eelam (LTTE), actively fighting the IPKF, as a potential ally in this effort.

His predecessor JRJ did argue that the Tamil issue was a very ancient problem and therefore external mediation might be necessary, which partly explains why he accepted Indian involvement leading to the 1987 accord.

In a pointed critique of India, Premadasa believed that the ethnic conflict could be resolved internally without foreign intervention.

He invited the LTTE and the JVP for talks as part of a strategy to end the prevailing dual insurrections, bring the groups into the democratic process, and secure the withdrawal of the IPKF from Sri Lanka. The LTTE accepted the offer and sent a delegation to Colombo for talks.

The LTTE delegation was transported by helicopter from the Mullaitivu jungles to Colombo. Premadasa arranged for LTTE ideologue Anton Balasingham and his wife, Adele, to fly to Colombo from London via Air Lanka at government expense. The LTTE team was provided with tight security managed by the Special Task Force (STF). During their stay in Colombo, LTTE cadres were permitted to retain their personal weapons as part of the security arrangements.

During the Premadasa–LTTE talks, the LTTE visited the homes of key traditional Tamil democratic leaders, such as A. Amirthalingam and V. Yogeswaran, for discussion and assassinated them, effectively destroying moderate Tamil parliamentary politics.

Both the JVP and Premadasa were opposed to the Indo-Lanka Accord and the IPKF presence, which provided a shared point of interest. He called an All Party Conference (APC) to resolve the problem through dialogue. JVP, however, refused to attend this conference. He then launched a brutal crackdown on the JVP using extreme counter-insurgency methods under the direct supervision of State Minister for Defence General Ranjan Wijeratne.

A period remembered for severe human-rights abuses and some opposition members even took the matter to the UN Commission on Human Rights. The crackdown ended with JVP leader Rohana Wijeweera being killed.

At the request of the President Premadasa, India withdrew the IPKF between September 1989 and March 1990.

Rural Unemployment and 200 Garment Factory Programme

Premadasa was from a humble, urban, working-class background, rose through grassroots politics in Colombo and had a better understanding of the grievances and aspirations of people of rural areas compared to JRJ. He knew the main problem was the unemployment of rural youth. He also knew that developing agriculture alone would not help solve this problem. He therefore decided to take industries to rural areas and embarked on the famous 200 garment factory programme.

He logically explained what his objective was when a prominent university professor of the time asked him what he was aiming to achieve through the programme.

He said one of the main problems Sri Lanka faced was rural unemployment, especially among the youth. Unless this issue was addressed, there would be no meaningful development in the country, as these youths would become pawns of political activists.

He identified unemployment as the root cause of political violence. Therefore, he wanted industrialisation to reach rural areas.

But he said there are obstacles. Sri Lanka, being an agriculture-based country, has most people not used to “industrial discipline.” It had been largely an Agricultural, Public-sector oriented and Plantation-based economy and society since colonial era and even after independence. The majority Sinhalese are accustomed to an easy life working in the paddy fields and practing Chena cultivation for thousands of years.

A common feature of the few factories established since Independence, both public and private, was the high absenteeism during the paddy harvesting periods, which left the management in a precarious situation.

Many rural youths had never worked in a factory environment with fixed working hours, meeting production targets, strict quality control and assembly-line work.

Without industrial discipline among the rural folks, no investor would risk his money setting up factories in rural areas. Some rural girls working in the Katunayake FTZ faced significant problems. They face isolation and lack of support, sexual risks and exploitation, language barriers, and more. When they work in a factory close to their homes, most of these issues could be resolved, Premadasa said.

On the other hand, garment manufacturing isn’t too complicated technology-wise. So, it was easy to train mechanics in preventive and break-down maintenance and operators in operational aspects.

He also knew it would help integrate rural areas into the export economy, and into a global value chain (GVC) moving beyond traditional free trade zones like Katunayake and Biyagama.

World Textile and Apparel (T&A) production went through three main phases, mostly based on production costs. First, in the 1970s in Hong Kong, Singapore, the Republic of Korea, and Taiwan, and during 1985-1990, they (Factory owners) reduced production and moved operations to the Philippines, Indonesia, Thailand, and Malaysia. The third phase involved shifting to countries like Bangladesh, Pakistan, Sri Lanka, Laos, Nepal, and Vietnam during the early 1990s. Premadasa aimed to take advantage of this trend.

His target was to create about 100,000 jobs, with factories typically employing at least 500 workers and giving employment opportunities in rural areas. Preference was deliberately given to economically disadvantaged families, helping spread incomes beyond urban centres.

Structural changes initiated to facilitate 200 garment factory programme

The Greater Colombo Economic Commission (GCEC), established in 1978 under JRJ, was originally created to manage Free Trade Zones (FTZs) like Katunayake and attract export-oriented foreign direct investment (FDI) into specific zones.

Premadasa transformed the GCEC into a national-level investment facilitator and renamed it the Board of Investment of Sri Lanka (BOI). It was more of a functional transformation and expansion of the GCEC role. With BOI, he established a centralised decision-making structure to expedite project approvals and reduce bureaucracy.

BOI effectively served as a “one-stop shop”, which was crucial because garment investors required speed and predictability.

President Premadasa Meeting the Potential Investors

\Working out the strategy with his handpicked officials, President Premadasa convened a meeting of potential investors at BMICH. The first meeting played a key role in launching the garment factory programme and demonstrated his hands-on, interventionist approach to economic development.

There were many would-be investors, mainly locals and entrepreneurs from countries like South Korea, Singapore and other Newly Industrialised Countries (NICs).

Premadasa personally addressed attendees and explained his vision of moving investment into rural districts. He said there are tax holidays on offer (the length varies by location, especially for rural/”difficult” areas), duty-free import of machinery and raw materials would be allowed, and guaranteed access to U.S. garment quotas under the Multi-Fibre Arrangement (MFA). The quotas would be allocated based on location: 10,000 dozen for non-difficult areas, 25,000 dozen for difficult areas and 50,000 dozen for the most difficult areas.\

He also said land, electricity, water, roads, and telecommunication would be provided by the state through the Board of Investment (BOI), the government agency responsible for promoting and facilitating investment. On the finance side permission to open foreign currency accounts would be allowed, and access to loans (including foreign currency banking units) would be available.

Premadasa requested investors to set up their factories to employ around 500 workers per factory and prioritise recruitment from low-income rural families. He also requested to provide meals (or subsidised food) to workers. It was however not a formal legal requirement written into BOI agreements.

He also offered duty-free import of a luxury vehicle (e.g., Benz car) after project completion.

Premadasa then concluded the meeting, assuring them that he will meet in a month or so to assess the progress.

At the progress review meeting held at the same venue, Premadasa asked if anyone had problems. About 10% of the attendees raised their hands, and the president asked them to move to the side. Then he said, “I will work with those who don’t have problems,” and asked the others to leave the chamber. This was how Premadasa achieved his goals.

Opening of factories under the programme

Premadasa personally supervised the progress of the programme. All initial problems reported to him by investors through his officials were quickly resolved.

He often had a clock tower built near many factories opened under the “200 Garment Factories Programme.” He believed that factory workers—mostly young people who had previously worked in agriculture or informal jobs—needed to adapt to strict working hours and punctuality. The clock tower served as a visible public timekeeper for workers and the surrounding community and it symbolized the transition from a village lifestyle to an industrial work culture.

Although Sri Lankan youth initially lacked technical skills and industrial discipline, they were able to assimilate into the garment industry relatively quickly because training requirements were short, production systems simplified tasks and strong factory training programs were introduced with the public institutions like Sri Lanka Institute of Textile & Apparel (SLITA). Above all literacy levels among the Sri Lankan youths were high.

This adaptability is one reason why Sri Lanka became a major garment exporter in the 1990s.

He attended numerous factory opening ceremonies from the late 1980s to the early 1990s, especially in less underdeveloped areas like Matale, Polonnaruwa, and Monaragala. Some factories launched under this programme have now grown into large conglomerates with factories in many other countries.

Success of the garment factory programme The 200 Garment Factories Programme played a pivotal role in transforming Sri Lanka into a global hub for apparel manufacturing, while also introducing modern industrial employment to rural districts for the first time.

Today, the garment industry continues to be Sri Lanka’s largest export sector, underscoring the lasting impact of this initiative.

J.R. Jayewardene’s modernisation strategy

It was JRJ who attempted to modernise Sri Lanka after coming to power.

Although JRJ’s government (1977–1989) achieved many successes in modernising the country, leading to economic development and improved living standards through major economic liberalisation and constitutional changes, it also faced numerous failures.

The benefits of the open economy concentrated in urban and Western Province areas. Expansion of the private sector and open economy did not absorb educated youth from rural areas. As a result, there was a huge mismatch between the education system and job market contributing to youth frustration and radicalisation, especially in the south.

Premadasa, after coming to power as Executive President of Sri Lanka, attempted to correct many weaknesses under the previous president, while taking forward the “Modernisation Programme” launched by him. Through “200 Garment Factories Programme” he attempted to take “National Development” to rural areas.

Another area he attempted to rectify was the recruitment process in public employment, which was often based on political patronage and arbitrary appointments made based on party loyalty. He directed that vacancies—particularly for non-technical jobs in the public service and state institutions—be filled through competitive written examinations and interviews, rather than ministerial recommendations.

Unfortunately, Premadasa’s main failure was underestimating the LTTE’s long-term goals. He only sought a political opening with the LTTE, mainly to achieve one objective: the withdrawal of the IPKF. Although he succeeded, the LTTE quickly turned against the government and launched the Second Elam War in June 1990 after attacking police and military targets.

Premadasa was assassinated in an LTTE suicide bomber attack in Colombo exactly 33 years ago.

The LTTE continued its insurgency until its defeat in 2009.

by Rohan Abeygunawardena
abeyrohan@gmail.com)

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Opinion

The pointer who showed the moon: Professor Y. Karunadasa (1934–2026)

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Prof. Karunadasa

On 27 April 2026, Sri Lanka lost a quiet giant. Professor Y. Karunadasa, one of the world’s foremost scholars of Abhidhamma and Buddhist philosophy, passed away in Colombo. He was 92.

For those who never sat in his classroom, the name might sound distant. But for anyone who has ever wondered what the Buddha really meant by anatta (no‑self) or sabhāva (intrinsic nature), Karunadasa’s work was a lantern in the dark. He did not write to impress other academics. He wrote to make the Dhamma clear.

Born in 1934, he graduated with First Class Honours in Pali from the University of Ceylon in 1958. A decade later, his PhD thesis from the University of London became his landmark book, The Buddhist Analysis of Matter. One reviewer called it “the final word on the subject for many years to come.” He later served as Dean of Arts at the University of Kelaniya and founded its Postgraduate Institute of Pali and Buddhist Studies. The nation honoured him with Sri Lanka Sikhamani in 2005.

Yet his true gift was teaching. He once said he loved students who knew nothing about Buddhism. “It’s more adventurous,” he explained. “For those already exposed, it’s not so fascinating. In a way, it’s easier because they carry no prejudices.” He taught at SOAS, Toronto, Calgary, and Hong Kong, but he always returned to Sri Lanka – because, he said, “the Dhamma lives best where the language of the texts is still spoken.”

What exactly made his scholarship so special? Before Karunadasa, Western, and even some Asian scholars, often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism – a medieval invention far from the Buddha’s original words. Karunadasa spent four decades proving otherwise. He showed that Abhidhamma is not a later corruption but a natural extension of the early suttas. His analysis of sabhāva (intrinsic nature) was revolutionary: he demonstrated that the Abhidhamma schools never posited eternal substances, only conditioned, momentary realities. In doing so, he rescued the entire Abhidhamma tradition from the charge of being “proto‑Hindu” or essentialist. Philosophers in London and Chicago began citing him alongside Western phenomenologists. Yet he never lost his Sri Lankan accent or his habit of drinking plain black tea while discussing citta and cetasika.

His most profound contribution was to Abhidhamma, the analytical heart of the Buddha’s teaching. Western scholars often dismissed Abhidhamma as dry scholasticism. Karunadasa showed it was a living philosophy of mind and matter, free from eternalism and nihilism. He argued that the Buddha’s refusal to posit a permanent self was not a mere negation but an invitation to see reality as a process – a stream of conditioned moments, luminous and awake.

What made him rare was his humility. He never claimed to be a meditation master or a saint. He was a reader of texts, a lover of words, a man who believed that truth shines brightest when pointed at, not possessed. “I present what I find,” he said. “Whether one decides to accept it is an individual matter.”

I recall a small story that students often told. Once, a young monk asked him after a lecture, “Venerable Professor, after all this analysis, does the self exist or not?” Karunadasa smiled. “That question,” he said, “is like asking whether the flame in this oil lamp is the same as the flame a moment ago. The Buddha’s answer is neither ‘yes’ nor ‘no’ but ‘it is not proper to say so.’ Learn to live with the question, and you will be freer than any philosopher who claims to have an answer.”

Students remember him not for grand speeches but for small kindnesses – a patient explanation of a Pali compound, a gentle nod when a young scholar stammered through a seminar. He never raised his voice. He never needed to.

The Buddha once said that the Dhamma is like a finger pointing to the moon. Do not stare at the finger, he warned. Professor Karunadasa spent a lifetime perfecting that finger – polishing it, straightening it, making sure it pointed true. We may now look at the moon and remember the hand that showed us where to turn.

May his passing be his final lesson: that even the greatest scholar must one day let go. And in that letting go, become the silence from which all teaching first arose.

May he attain the supreme bliss of Nibbana!

Dedicated to the memory of a teacher who never stopped learning.

K.L. Senarath Dayathilake

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Opinion

Fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, and contemporary governance challenges

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Central Bank of Sri Lanka / Ministry of Finance

Sri Lanka is currently facing a complex set of interrelated economic, social, and governance challenges that cannot be attributed to a single policy failure or institutional weakness. Rather, these challenges reflect deeper structural issues that have evolved over time and now manifest as systemic constraints on economic stability and effective governance.

The key issues at the centre the current debate include fiscal discipline, the role of the Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance, governance challenges, the experience of public administration, and the capacity for effective policy implementation.

This short paper aims to lay the foundation for this discussion by initiating a focused and structured dialogue on these critical issues.

Fiscal Discipline: Current Status and Core Challenges

Fiscal discipline refers to the government’s ability to maintain a balance between its revenue and expenditure. It is a fundamental requirement for macroeconomic stability. However, an assessment of Sri Lanka’s current situation indicates that this balance remains significantly weakened.

Over the past three decades, government revenue as a share of GDP has steadily declined. From approximately 18–20 percent in the 1990s, it fell to nearly 9 percent in the early 2020s. While recent tax reforms have contributed to a gradual recovery, government expenditure has remained persistently high at around 20–25 percent of GDP. This imbalance has resulted in sustained budget deficits and a significant accumulation of public debt.

Within this context, constrained revenue growth and structural weaknesses in expenditure management have emerged as key factors shaping the country’s long-term fiscal outlook.

In 2024, tax revenue increased to 12.4 percent of GDP, up from 9.9 percent in 2023, and is projected to reach 14.8 percent in 2025. While this reflects a positive trend, it remains insufficient to ensure fiscal sustainability.

Expanding the tax base, strengthening tax compliance, and rationalising tax exemptions remain critical priorities. However, these efforts are constrained by structural factors, including the large size of the informal economy, weak income reporting mechanisms, and low levels of formalsation among small and medium-sized enterprises.

In addition, the heavy reliance on indirect taxation represents a structural imbalance. Currently, around 70–75 percent of total tax revenue is derived from indirect taxes, while direct taxes account for only about 25–30 percent. Among these, Value Added Tax (VAT) contributes a disproportionately large share, whereas income and corporate taxes remain relatively limited. Such a structure has implications not only for revenue stability but also for income distribution.

Tax administration continues to face operational challenges, including limited administrative capacity, technological constraints, weak enforcement, and persistent issues of tax evasion and avoidance.

Therefore, despite recent improvements in revenue performance, deeper structural reforms in the tax system are essential—particularly increasing the share of direct taxation and broadening the overall tax base.

The expenditure side presents equally significant challenges. According to the 2025 budget, government expenditure is estimated at around 21.8 percent of GDP, while revenue stands at approximately 15.1 percent. This reflects a substantial and persistent fiscal gap, the closure of which requires difficult and often politically sensitive policy choices, including borrowing, revenue enhancement, or expenditure rationalisation.

A particularly pressing concern is debt servicing. According to the World Bank, nearly half of government revenue between 2024 and 2027 may be absorbed by interest payments. This represents a significant fiscal risk. If a large share of public revenue is allocated to debt servicing, the fiscal space available for education, healthcare, social protection, and productive investment becomes severely constrained.

Public debt management therefore remains highly vulnerable. Although debt restructuring efforts have been undertaken, their long-term success depends critically on sustained fiscal discipline. Without this, debt sustainability risks re-emerging as a major macroeconomic concern.

The financial performance of state-owned enterprises further compounds these challenges. In 2024, 52 major state institutions reported combined losses exceeding LKR 150 billion. Key entities such as the Ceylon Electricity Board, Ceylon Petroleum Corporation, SriLankan Airlines, and the Sri Lanka Transport Board continue to exert pressure on public finances. Notably, in the first half of 2025 alone, the Ceylon Electricity Board recorded a loss of LKR 13.2 billion.

Taken together, the challenge of fiscal discipline is not isolated. It reflects a broader structural imbalance arising from weak revenue performance, ineffective expenditure control, high debt burdens, rising debt servicing obligations, and persistent losses in state-owned enterprises.

Accordingly, addressing these challenges requires more than incremental adjustments. It calls for a comprehensive and sustained restructuring of public financial management to restore long-term fiscal stability.

The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance: Roles and Performance

Against this fiscal backdrop, the role and effectiveness of key economic institutions become critically important. The Central Bank and the Ministry of Finance are the two principal institutions responsible for macroeconomic management in Sri Lanka. The Central Bank is tasked with maintaining price stability and financial system stability through monetary policy, while the Ministry of Finance is responsible for the design and implementation of fiscal policy.

In recent years, the Central Bank has adopted a tight monetary policy stance to contain inflation. This represents a necessary and positive adjustment. However, a key concern lies in the clarity, consistency, and credibility of policy communication. When markets, investors, and the public do not receive clear and predictable signals regarding the future direction of policy, an uncertain environment emerges. Under such conditions, investment decisions are often delayed, market volatility increases, and overall economic confidence weakens.

With regard to the Ministry of Finance, the central issue is the gap between policy intent and effective implementation. While targets have been set to increase tax revenue, progress in broadening the tax base and strengthening compliance remains limited. This reflects not only technical challenges but also deeper institutional constraints.

Another critical area is the reform of state-owned enterprises. Although policy intentions and reform frameworks have been articulated, implementation has been slow and uneven. This delay imposes an additional burden on fiscal discipline, as continued losses in these institutions ultimately translate into increased public expenditure and fiscal pressure.

At the same time, the International Monetary Fund has emphasised, particularly in the context of the 2026 budget, the need for stronger revenue mobilization, disciplined expenditure management, improved tax compliance, and enhanced public financial management. These recommendations reinforce the urgency of institutional strengthening.

It would be overly simplistic to conclude that these institutions have entirely failed in their mandates. However, it is evident that they have not yet achieved the expected levels of efficiency, coordination, and transparency required under current economic conditions.

A key structural weakness lies in the limited coordination between monetary and fiscal policy. When these two policy domains are not aligned, their outcomes can be mutually undermining. For example, while the Central Bank may pursue tight monetary policy to control inflation, expansionary fiscal policies or excessive government spending can offset these efforts.

Going forward, strengthening institutional effectiveness requires more than clarifying mandates. It demands improved policy coordination, stronger implementation capacity, and more transparent and credible communication. These elements are essential to restoring confidence among markets, investors, and the public.

Governance Challenges and the Experience Gap: Reality and Limits

Beyond institutional performance, governance capacity itself remains a central concern. One of the most prominent criticisms directed at the current administration is the perceived lack of experience in public governance. This concern cannot be entirely dismissed. A governing team with limited experience may face significant challenges in managing the complexity of the state apparatus, fiscal risks, international commitments, and institutional processes.

However, it is insufficient to interpret this issue solely as an individual limitation. It must also be understood as a systemic challenge. In the presence of a strong advisory framework, data-driven decision-making processes, and effective coordination within a professional public service, the impact of limited experience can be mitigated to a considerable extent.

Conversely, when such institutional mechanisms are weak, the absence of experience can have more pronounced consequences. These may include delays in decision-making, misalignment of policy priorities, and increased policy instability. In such an environment, governance becomes more uncertain, and institutional trust tends to erode.

Therefore, the issue cannot be adequately captured by simply referring to a “lack of experience.” The more fundamental challenge lies in the interaction between limited experience, institutional weaknesses, and deficiencies in decision-making frameworks.

This perspective is reinforced by an observation shared in response to this discussion:

“The appointment of underqualified individuals and political appointees to senior positions in the Treasury and the Ministry of Finance can significantly contribute to such challenges. In the past, many of these roles were held by experienced senior public servants and capable economists, who possessed a deep understanding of public financial policy and governance.

It is not sufficient to characterise such issues merely as a ‘cyber incident.’ They should also be understood as manifestations of deeper systemic gaps. Accordingly, the government must identify and decisively address these gaps. However, there is limited evidence of such preparedness at present.”

This view underscores the need to assess governance challenges not only at the level of individuals, but also at the institutional and systemic levels.

Accordingly, a sustainable long-term response requires strengthening professionalism within the public sector, ensuring greater transparency and meritocracy in appointments, and institutionalizing more structured and evidence-based decision-making processes.

Priority Reforms for Immediate Action

Addressing the challenges outlined above requires a set of coordinated and decisive reforms. These actions are not optional; they are essential to restoring fiscal stability and rebuilding public confidence.

First, public expenditure must be realigned based on clear strategic priorities. Resources should be redirected away from politically popular but low-impact spending toward areas that support economic growth, strengthen human capital, and enhance social protection.

Second, the tax system must be simplified, made more equitable, and significantly broadened. Rather than increasing the burden on a narrow base of existing taxpayers, policy efforts should focus on expanding the tax base, strengthening compliance, and improving the efficiency of tax administration.

Third, reforms of state-owned enterprises must be accelerated without delay. The continued reliance on public funds to sustain loss-making institutions is fiscally unsustainable. Comprehensive restructuring is required, including improvements in governance, pricing mechanisms, operational efficiency, and accountability frameworks.

Fourth, transparency must be strengthened as a core principle of public financial management. Timely and credible disclosure of fiscal data—including debt positions, the financial performance of state-owned enterprises, and progress on reform implementation—is essential to building trust and ensuring accountability.

Finally, accountability mechanisms must be reinforced. Clear responsibility must be assigned for policy decisions, and outcomes must be systematically monitored and evaluated. Sustainable improvements in governance depend on the consistent application of accountability.

In conclusion, Sri Lanka’s current economic and governance challenges cannot be attributed to a single cause. They reflect a broader systemic imbalance arising from weak fiscal discipline, institutional limitations, communication gaps, shortcomings in policy implementation, and constraints in governance capacity.

An economy is not merely a collection of numbers; it is fundamentally a system built on trust. Rebuilding that trust is not optional—it is essential. It requires immediate and credible action to strengthen fiscal discipline, institutional accountability, transparency, and policy consistency.

This remains the defining challenge facing the current administration.

by Prof. Ranjith Bandara

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