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Bawa Art Industry: Lunuganga, and Chandrajeewa Atelier: Wennappuwa

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Geoffrey Bawa, Sarath Chandrajeewa and Anjalendran at the exhibition, "100 Impressions on Bronze", 1994, Sri Lanka National Art Gallery.

By Dr. Laleen Jayamanne

Art history annedotally

The pioneering Viennese Art Historian Alois Riegl wrote a book that was not very popular among traditional Anglo-American art historians but some of us film theorists poured over it, the prose a bit dry in translation, but with some powerful ideas. The book is The Late Roman Art Industry, an examination of the industrialisation of production in late antiquity (during the last stages of the Roman Empire), of previously handmade craft-work. Because film is an industrial artifact, this book provided some lateral ideas to us to think of the deep history of industrialisation of goods as commodities, including film and idea of legal contracts. But more urgently, it helped us to begin to understand the industrialisation of thinking in the Neo-Liberal globalised University. In Australia, we were ordered to produce more and more, faster and faster. No one spoke about quality. Hardly anyone had time to read each other’s work anymore and most tragically, students just speed-read bits and pieces without reading arguments carefully and thoughtfully. The globalised art industry of Biennales and Triennials, and mushrooming film festivals, are also products of this same dynamic of Neo-liberal capitalism where the market rules, after the dissolution of the Soviet Republics in 1991.

Within this savage market economy, talented artists become hyper competitive and are in danger of developing a repetitive formula. And curators may unwittingly encourage narcissistic mirror games, conforming to their perception of what matters. This creates weak art over time, deskilling artists and also cliques who operate through exclusionary tactics, where artists who do not fit in are shut out of the art and film history narratives and collections. In the fractious small art world of Sri Lanka this situation needs to be discussed openly, calmly and with rational rigour. This is my aim here as a Lankan who lives in Australia but who is engaged to some extent with the contemporary Lankan film culture, as a scholar of the Lankan cinema for over 50 years.

Riegl, was a founding figure of the discipline of art history, working in Vienna at the peak of its intellectual, artistic and political power in Europe just before the demise of the Austro-Hungarian Empire with World War One. He was also the curator of Islamic Art at the Museum of Decorative Arts in Vienna and the famous exhibition of Islamic fabric and carpets he curated just before his untimely death in 1905, was also visited by Henri Matisse. So an ancient Islamic civilizational crafted material and European high Modernism came into a generative contact in an imperial Art Museum. (Art history was invented by Winkleman at the Vatican museum, after he converted to Roman Catholicism. He studied Greek art there without ever going to Greece!). Riegel also lectured at the University of Vienna. There, Klimt’s famous allegorical murals caused a controversy and rejected, therefore an art historian defended them by giving a lecture titled, ‘What is Ugly?’, considering it seriously as an aesthetic category of Viennese modernism and of avant-garde art. And his far ranging books, on the Historical Grammar of the Visual Arts, and on ornament in particular, still provide vital ideas on ornament as a mode of thinking, a power of connectivity, rather than just prettified, picturesque, vegetal motifs. He starts with Egypt and arabesques his way through epochs of great cross-cultural exchange in trade and ideas and also wars.

Lankan Scholar/Artists

I am writing about this stuff now hoping that Lankan art historians and curators might just be tempted to consider seriously the work of two Lankan artists working in different art forms but both of whom are also scholars in their own right and are University Professors. Doing so would, I expect, considerably strengthen the intellectual discourses on art, connecting them to wider political and cultural ideas across social class, caste, ethnicity, languages and genre boundaries in Sri Lankan cultural production.

According to my brief non-specialist research, (being a film scholar and critic), Sarath Chandrajeewa is considered, by some, to be Sri Lanka’s preeminent contemporary sculptor working in Bronze and Terra Cotta (rathu mati), for well over 30 years. He was the star pupil of Tissa Ranasingha, with whom he studied bronze casting on a government scholarship, at the Royal College of Art, London. Ranasingha is considered the pioneering Lankan sculptor (monumental, portrait, and other), of the modern era after independence. Chandrajeewa also paints, and has produced large clay figurative relief murals of ‘the people’, and abstract tiled murals in a pedestrian tunnel, and has had a scholarly publishing project of significance for Lankan art history, and cultural theory more broadly, in my non-specialist opinion. But, I have been schooled by working in a Department of Art History and Film at the University of Sydney for a few decades, because ours was an interdisciplinary department. Chandrajeewa also founded with his patron, Harold Peiris, the Contemporary Art and Crafts Association of Sri Lanka (CACA) in 1990, to organise exhibitions and it still functions as a research institution. Like Riegl, he has published work off the beaten track of the art history protocol of specialising on one period, digging the same strata in delicious detail and not treading on jealously guarded intellectual ‘private’ territory. This approach of art historians, I think made rigid by the American academy, was a source of amazement to us film scholars because our discipline was organised differently, a bit unruly, with a much shorter history than art has and was inter-disciplinary in its very formation as film is a popular technological commodity, made for entertainment and making profit, first and foremost, with aspirations to become Art.

***

Professor Sumathy Sivamohan is the only independent woman filmmaker who has produced a significant body of films, exploring the muti-ethnic polity of Sri Lanka from the point of view of minority communities. While her body of work is still growing, she has a clear project of examining Lankan Nationalisms from the point of view of minority communities. Her Sons and Fathers is in Sinhala exploring the multi-ethnic formation of the Lankan film industry from its very inception. The civil war and its aftermath is the background to her research. As a professor of English, she is also a literary theorist who also teaches film and producers scholarly work. I am hoping that the few observations I make here may arouse a curiosity at the very least, to create opportunities to engage with her work seriously. Interdisciplinary dialogue has been essential for a long while now in any serious progressive public sphere of culture and without deep scholarship, what you often get is mere ‘art-speak’ one hears on Youtube, sometimes lively and generous and fun but often lacking the intellectual bite of complex ideas that one can take up and wrestle with and further explore by reading widely and debating, discussing and then use to further our understanding by writing. Sivamohan’s and Chandrajeewa’s work also happily converged in the book of poetry called Frames edited by the latter, forthcoming in late 2022, if there is no paper shortage! The name derives from the large stacks of door and window frames which have lost their functional utility after bomb blasts in Jaffna during the civil war.

The images of these blasted buildings, and their intact solid door and window frames share a space with the poetry and movingly enframe them. The book is an attempt to speak to that void across the linguistic barriers. Among the poems there is one by Sivamohan and also by her sister Dr. Rajani Thiranagama, her sister, who taught Anatomy at the Jaffna University and was assassinated by a LTTE gunman as she was riding home after teaching, within ear-shot of her home. Her photo is the only human face in the book. And I believe Sarath and Sumathy have not met each other as yet, except for a chance brief encounter at a meeting of artists, with the then President Maithripala Sirisena. Sumathy was the only artist there who spoke in Tamil, with a translator. And what better place to launch Frames than at MMCA that uses all three languages with a very long term record of engagement with promoting art making in the time of the civil war, especially in Jaffna and unusually have poetry readings there, too.

***

I gather the field of Sinhala film culture is highly evolved, robust, with heated debates, cult groups, brilliant theorists, a quarterly film journal, Chitrapata Magazine and numerous blogs and newspapers and so on. In the more polite middle class art world the surface is smooth and inviting, tri-lingual now in important institutions, though there is an undercurrent of violence and hostility camouflaged in specific instants, I am discovering, as I do my research. These appear to be of a professional nature. I am all too familiar with this mode of behavior, having taught in several Australian Universities for over 30 odd years and having fought tooth and nail, successfully, an effort to sack me on false charges about my teaching or lack thereof, in a provincial University. Professional rivalries and cruelty are quite well developed in Universities and the tactics and strategy familiar but what’s unique to Sri Lanka is the direct connections academics and some artists have to political power that appear limitless. It is shocking to hear an academic/artist boast of his direct access to people in power and even to the president of the country to deal with one’s conflicts.

Both Tissa Ranasingha and Sarath Chandrajeewa were also academics, the latter a VC of the University of Visual and Performing Art, as well, who tried to fundamentally transform a moribund feudal fine arts curriculum and ethos into a modern one that would educate the students according the best standards of fine arts education practice in the world and to become informed, responsible global citizens. They were both forced to resign due to actions authorised at highest levels of government. This story is public knowledge and I learnt of it only recently from information mostly available on the internet and some passing comments in an art book published in Australia edited by the Human Rights curator and architect of the Asia Pacific Triennale, of the Queensland Art Gallery, Caroline Turner.

***

The Geoffrey Bawa Lunuganga Trust, established after the celebrated architect’s death, has become a visionary educational institution, under the Lunuganga Trust. And the new Museum of Modern and Contemporary Art, directed by Senior curator Sharmini Pereira, aims to make it an inclusive centre of art education in this country and build its collection accordingly. And it is to these institutions that I address a call for an experimental move, of opening an exchange with these two senior scholar/artists. Might the launch of Frames at one of these institutions be the occasion to start this belated encounter? (The concluding part of this article will appear in the Midweek Review of 06 April)



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Regime change and the vacuum:Strategic lessons of Iraq and Libya

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Post-Gaddafi Civil war: the rebellion triggered by the arab spring of 2011 soon toppled the regime of Muammar Gaddafi. the power vacuum created by Gaddafi’s ouster has been exploited by local actors, as well as extraneous actors, with the only intention of making libya a war theatre for proxy wars and political disintegration

by Col. (R) Nalin Herath

There is a question that the international community must periodically ask itself: What happens to a State after its regime has been ousted?

The question is particularly relevant when examining Iraq and Libya. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were authoritarian rulers. Their governments were associated with political repression, human-rights violations and the suppression of political opposition. None of this should be ignored or excused. But recognising the failures of authoritarian rule does not prevent us from asking another, equally important strategic question:

Did the removal of these regimes adequately prepare for what came next?

The experience of Iraq and Libya suggests that removing a ruler is considerably easier than replacing the political, administrative and security architecture around that ruler.

Danger of confusing regime change with State reconstruction

A state is more than its leader. It consists of institutions, security forces, civil servants, courts, political structures, infrastructure, economic systems and, perhaps most importantly, an accepted monopoly over the legitimate use of force. When an authoritarian system has concentrated enormous power around one individual, removing that individual can expose weaknesses that were previously hidden. The strategic mistake is to assume that once the dictator has gone, a democratic and stable state will naturally emerge. History does not support such an assumption. The aftermath of Iraq demonstrates this particularly clearly. Following the 2003 invasion, the Coalition Provisional Authority issued Order No. 2, formally dissolving the Iraqi Ministry of Defence and the Iraqi Army, among other security institutions. A US congressional report later documented the enormous consequences of this decision, including the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of military personnel from the institutional framework of the state. Whatever the intentions behind the decision, the strategic consequence was that an established security structure had to be rebuilt while the country was simultaneously experiencing political upheaval and growing violence. That is a dangerous combination.

Iraq: Removing the structure before building the replacement

Saddam Hussein’s government was unquestionably authoritarian. It also reflected a complicated sectarian and political structure in which members of the Sunni minority occupied disproportionate positions of power despite being a demographic minority. But the question for strategic planners should not simply be whether Saddam deserved to remain in power. The question should have been:

What institutional structure would replace the system once he was removed?

An army can be politically controlled without being politically representative. A bureaucracy can serve an authoritarian government while still providing essential state functions. A security institution can be reformed without necessarily being destroyed. The distinction between reforming institutions and eliminating institutions is therefore critical. The post-2003 experience demonstrated the consequences of institutional disruption. Security vacuums contributed to insurgency and instability, while the process of rebuilding Iraq’s security forces took place amid an increasingly deteriorating security environment. The lesson is not that authoritarian institutions should never be reformed. The lesson is that state capacity should not be casually destroyed without a credible replacement.

Libya: prosperity, authoritarianism and institutional fragility

Libya presents an even more complicated case. Gaddafi’s government was authoritarian and deeply personalised. Political freedom was severely restricted, and the security apparatus was deliberately structured around regime survival. Yet Libya, under Gaddafi, also used substantial oil revenues to fund education, healthcare, infrastructure and social services. World Bank data from around the end of the Gaddafi era show life expectancy reaching approximately 75 years by 2011, skilled attendance at birth at 100 percent and measles immunisation at 98 percent. This does not prove that Gaddafi’s system was politically legitimate. It demonstrates something different: economic and social outcomes can coexist with authoritarian political structures.

The Great Man-Made River illustrates the scale of Libya’s investment ambitions. The World Bank described the project as one of the world’s largest engineering schemes, involving thousands of kilometres of planned pipelines to transport water from deep desert aquifers toward the populated coastal belt. The original project was estimated at approximately US$ 25 billion over several phases. Again, this should not become nostalgia for dictatorship. It should become a lesson in state capacity.

What happened after Gaddafi?

The post-2011 experience is perhaps the clearest illustration of the vacuum problem. Libya did not simply move from dictatorship to a consolidated democratic state. Instead, competing armed groups, political factions and institutions emerged. A UN economic and social affairs analysis concluded that the fall of the Gaddafi regime exposed weak state institutions and that the post-Gaddafi period was characterised by the proliferation of armed militias and institutional fragmentation.

The World Bank has similarly described how the security vacuum allowed armed groups to expand, while attempts to integrate them into the formal security apparatus produced a hybrid system in which state institutions and powerful armed groups operated alongside one another. This is the heart of the lesson. The consequences of regime change were also evident in Libya. The 2012 Benghazi attack, later portrayed in 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, illustrated the security vacuum that emerged after Gaddafi’s fall. The collapse of central authority allowed militias and competing armed groups to fill the space left by weakened state institutions. The lesson is clear: removing a regime may achieve military victory, but without a credible plan to rebuild the state, victory can quickly become a security vacuum.

When the state withdraws, something else occupies the space. If the replacement is not a legitimate national institution, the vacuum can be filled by militias, tribes, ideological movements, criminal networks or competing political authorities. The vacuum does not remain empty.

Terrorism question

There is another uncomfortable issue. Authoritarian regimes frequently suppress political and armed movements through coercive security systems. When those systems disappear abruptly, previously contained organisations can find new operating space. This does not mean that dictatorship is an appropriate method of counterterrorism. It means that counterterrorism cannot be separated from State capacity. The international community therefore needs to distinguish between defeating a particular terrorist organisation and maintaining the institutional conditions that prevent multiple armed actors from competing for power. The destruction of one regime does not automatically eliminate the forces that created insecurity. Sometimes it creates an environment in which those forces multiply.

Strategic mistake: winning the war but losing the peace

Military intervention can have a clearly defined operational objective. State reconstruction does not. A military campaign may successfully remove a government in weeks or months. Building legitimate institutions can take decades.This creates a fundamental strategic asymmetry. The shorter the planning horizon for intervention, the greater the danger of a long-term vacuum. The international community therefore needs to think beyond the first question: How do we remove the regime?

It must ask: Who governs the country the next morning? Who controls the borders? Who controls the security forces? Who pays government employees? Who maintains electricity, water and hospitals? Who protects critical infrastructure? Who administers justice? Who prevents armed groups from becoming alternative governments? Who provides political legitimacy? And perhaps most importantly: Who possesses the authority to enforce the decisions of the new state? If there are no convincing answers, regime change is only the beginning of the problem.

The lesson should not be that the United States or its allies should never intervene. Nor should it be that Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi should be rehabilitated as models of governance. The lesson is more practical. Regime change must never be confused with state-building.

Before dismantling an established political order, external powers need a credible understanding of the institutions that will replace it. Security-sector reform should normally distinguish between individuals who must be removed and institutions that must be preserved. A national army may need reform. A ministry may need restructuring. A security service may need accountability and civilian oversight. But destroying institutional capacity without having an operational replacement can create consequences far beyond the original objective.

Wider geopolitical lesson

The consequences of Iraq and Libya did not remain within their borders. State fragmentation affects neighbouring countries, migration, organised crime, arms trafficking, terrorism, energy markets and regional power competition. In today’s interconnected world, a failed transition in one country can become a security problem for an entire region. That is why intervention planning should include not only military objectives but also political, economic, humanitarian and security-sector objectives. The most important planning document may therefore not be the operational plan for removing the regime. It may be the plan for Day One after the regime has disappeared.

History should not be written as a simple choice between dictatorship and democracy. The real strategic challenge is more complicated. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were dictators. Their governments committed serious abuses, and their populations had legitimate grievances. But the failures of authoritarian rule do not automatically justify the destruction of state institutions without a credible plan for rebuilding them. The experience of Iraq and Libya demonstrates a fundamental principle of international security: A political vacuum is not neutral space. Someone will fill it. If legitimate national institutions cannot fill that space, armed groups, sectarian interests, extremist organisations or foreign-backed factions may do so. The ultimate lesson for the United States, its allies and the wider international community is therefore straightforward:

Removing a regime may win the immediate battle. Building a legitimate, functioning and secure state determines whether the intervention succeeds in the long term. The world should learn to ask not only “How do we remove the dictator?”. It must also ask:

“What happens to the country when he is gone?”

That may be the most important strategic question of all.

(The writer is the Secretary General of the Ceylon Chamber of Shipping, former Director General of the Institute of National Security Studies (INSS), and former Spokesman of the Ministry of Defence. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow at the London Dialogue. His areas of expertise include international relations, geopolitics, maritime affairs, national security, economic policy, and strategic governance. He is a consultant at JITT Group and a member of World Pace Board.).

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‘Death at the Sign of the Rook’

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Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 23

By Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha

As I have noted with regard to the adventures of John Rebus, I am indebted to Dinali Fernando and her husband Steve for whole hosts of thrillers. The latter strongly recommended Kate Atkinson when I borrowed four books. I wondered about this, for I had not been too impressed with her debut novel, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which was amongst the entries I had to judge for the Eurasian section of the Commonwealth Writing Prize. Two decades later, I had forgotten what it had been about.

But I am glad Steve persuaded me to read her. Kate Atkinson is distinctively British, and Death at the Sign of the Rook is set in a country house and the surrounding village, and seems a modern descendant of the laidback Agatha Christies I so much enjoy.

There are, however, many differences in that we have a policeman who can go rogue, like Rebus, with again a female sidekick who has a mind of her own, again like Rebus. But Jackson Brodie has retired and set up as a private investigator, while Reggie, a young lady, is still in the police.

There is a lesbian couple living in the converted dairy of the manor house, as has occurred in Agatha Christie too, in A Murder is Announced. But they are peripheral to the story, unlike Ben, the brother of one of them who left the army after losing a leg in Afghanistan. When he turns up at the Manor House to shelter from a snowstorm, along with its chatelaine, Lady Milton, he is asked to answer the door as various characters turn up, including Jackson and Reggie, who then starts fantasising about him.

The others who turn up are two couples, one from America, who have paid for a murder weekend at the hotel. The family is impoverished, and has sold lots of pictures to survive, but most recently a Turner had been stolen, almost certainly by Lady Milton’s housekeeper Sophie, who vanished one night along with the picture. Reggie had been involved in that investigation, but there had been no trace of either picture or young lady.

Jackson Brodie suspects a connection between that theft and the one he has been called in to investigate, which has not been reported to the police. The picture hung opposite the bed of an old woman whose carer vanished after she died, along with it. Her children, adopted twins, have asked Jackson to investigate and also try to trace the carer, though he suspects something strange in that they did not go to the police.

Kate Atkinson

Brodie, in studying the stolen art, is also struck by the disappearance of a Rembrandt from a house in Scotland, along with a member of the cleaning staff. He thinks the three women might be the same one.

But Brodie’s assumption that the three women who vanished when valuable pictures did were identical would not have helped except that Beatrice, as she was also called, kept turning up, including to the funeral home where the old lady’s body was kept. And then that picture turned up, in the village church, and was found by the local vicar, Simon Cate, whose life story is also a prominent feature of the novel. He was an aspiring actor but then smitten by faith, and became a priest, but in time he lost his faith. His wife left him after the death of their son, and he is now in this backwater, where he feels he is of no use to anyone. But he has a great feel for living beings, and his most successful service has been one in which he blessed pets. And he was deeply concerned about the bees that Ben looks after for his sister and her wife.

He too staggers into the manor house in the midst of the storm, in which everyone concerned loses their way comprehensively. But amongst those Ben lets in is a man in a tracksuit with cuts and bruises, who then vanishes after he has been led to a bedroom, when Ben went in search of brandy. We soon work out that it is the escaped murderer about whom Reggie has been alerted.

Simon also turns up, through the back door, carrying the picture and also a gun, for he has found the dead body of one of his parishioners when he went to her house in search of his mobile phone. She had been shot and he had picked up the gun he found there. But he could not tell the police, for though he called he had lost his voice, and for the last few days had communicated only through writing.

This chaotic mix of characters at the manor house is further complicated by the group of players putting on the murder mystery play though some members have either cried off or died before reaching the venue. So, there is much doubling up and confusion over who is an actor and who is not.

The grand now largely empty rooms of the manor house, and its various odd passages and multiple doors, make it a splendid set for the lunacy that runs on and on. Reggie finds herself in a pantry Atkinsonwith a dead body, though this turns out to be the nanny who fell down the stairs and was put there by Lady Milton’s younger son. And there is high drama on the roof when the murderer nearly kills Ben, but he is saved by Reggie, and when he tries to kill Brody with an axe, he is shot by Beatrice, who has been the maid who served at the dinner before the murder mystery play, and explains to Brody how she has managed all her thefts.

And then in the melee, she vanishes on a motorbike, along with the daughter of the old lady’s adopted daughter, the only person who seemed to grieve at the funeral, and to whom the old lady had left her house in a codicil to her will, which her children have not known about. She leaves the picture to the carer, but it is brought to Simon Cate as he lies in hospital, recovering from a heart attack which adds confusion to the play.

Wonderfully convoluted, but all very clear, despite the headlong pace of the book and its shifts from one scene to another, from one character to another (or rather combinations of them) and from one-time span to another. A writer and a detective well worth looking out for. e more books by her on Dinali’s shelves.

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Safety, security and teamwork in aviation

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Indian Captain Smit Machchhar injured in the cockpit attack

by Capt. (Ret.).G.A. Fernando, MBA

There are three essential components to a commercial airline operation: safety, security and teamwork.

Aviation and teamwork at the ‘sharp’ end of a commercial aircraft, i.e. the flight deck, is unique. Unlike many other teams, it may be quite literally the first and the last time a particular combination of small teams of two, three, or four individual airmen (or women) will fly together. Sometimes even in the same airline that employs them.

Therefore, to make conditions safe and practical, while understanding and trusting tech other, they have to rely on a series of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), and ‘Normal’ and ‘Emergency’ checklists for every conceivable situation. That is, to be able to do the right things, and do things right. In fact, there is a saying in aviation to the effect that ‘if you make a mistake in aviation, be original and make a new one’.

To ensure that safety standards are constantly maintained, airline pilots’ proficiency is tested every six months, in simulators, under the supervision of examiners from the civil aviation regulator. In Sri Lanka that organisaton is the Civil Aviation Authority-Sri Lanka (CAASL). Three simulator checks are conducted every 12 months in keeping with the tenet that ‘practice makes perfect’. A pithy adage not confined to the world of aviation warns that ‘prior preparation prevents piss-poor performance’.

The simulator exercises include rejected takeoffs, including in cross-wind situations, landings, engine fires and/or engine failures from a variety of causes, cabin pressurisation failure, precision and non-precision approaches, and landings in bad visibility – amongst other conditions that could be expected in actual flight.

In addition, a flight in a real airplane, on a regular passenger service under the supervision of an examiner from the airline, is undertaken to ensure that the company’s standard practices and procedures are carried out and maintained as prescribed in the airline’s manuals. These publications are in turn approved by the national regulator.

Crash axe

Finally, flight crew members must take a written test annually, on emergency equipment locations and procedures, with 90% as the pass mark.

Since the mid-1980s it has been mandatory for airline pilots to undertake a Crew Resource Management (CRM) programme once every two years. This training essentially emphasises what to do and what not to do to, in a specific emergency situation, or even during normal operations, to make the team cohesive and effective. During the course, the CRM facilitators discuss recent incidents and accidents that have occurred. Results of those events are recorded and could be retrieved, when necessary, by the official aviation bodies.

Not unexpectedly, it is demanding on a pilot to fulfill these requirements on a regular basis throughout his/her career, along with presenting for a bi-annual medical examination, all with the objective of retaining one’s licence to operate an aircraft. It may not be understood, therefore, by persons outside the aviation industry, or even some working in other aspects of an airline organisation, that it is often the passion for flight that keeps many pilots doing what they do to earn a living.

Security

Another important factor is the challenge of maintaining security in all aspects of airline operations, not least in the cockpit. The challenges are many, with new ones surfacing almost every day. It is therefore essential to be always prepared for the activities and ‘methods’ of perpetrators seeking to wreak evil on an aircraft and its occupants. As it is impossible for any airline or national security organisation to cover all aspects, systematic management of risks to effect a safe outcome becomes imperative.

Flydubai Incident

In the recent Flydubai incident of 30 September, 2026, a first officer (co-pilot) attacked the captain of the flight with a crash axe to accomplish his sinister motives, into which investigations are continuing. For the time being, it prompts the questions: should the crash axe be easily accessible to the flight crew? Or even be there at all? I believe it is a case of assessing the greater risk.

With regard to that event, and the circumstances that led to it, other deterrents could have been applied more thoroughly. For example, more thorough screening of pilots’ and other crewpersons’ backgrounds, with emphasis on their mental health, ideological affiliations and previous employment history. Separately, during a time of conflict in the Middle East, should Flydubai have even been operating between Dubai and Tel Aviv? Notwithstanding that cost-cutting and profit maximisation are key aims of any business, an airline’s apparent failure to conduct adequate psychological profiling of flight crew members, while continuing to operate ‘profitable’ routes, regardless of potential danger, can only be regarded and condemned as greed and disregard for human lives.

( Captain. Fernando, RCyAF, SLAF, Air Ceylon, Air Lanka, Singapore Airlines (SIA), SriLankan Airlines, Former Chief Pilot, Air Lanka Boeing 737, Former Deputy Chief Pilot, Lockheed L 1011, Former Crew Resource Management (CRM) Facilitator, SIA, Former Deputy Director (Air Operations) CAASL, Former President, Aircraft Owners and Operators Association Sri Lanka (AOAOASL), President, The Colombo Flying Club, Representative for Aviation, Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA), Hony, and Member Sri Lanka Society of Transport and Logistics.)

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