Features

BETWEEN ABSTRACTION & EMPATHY IN SARATH CHANDRAJEEWA’S VISUAL PARAPHRASES – PART III

Published

2 years ago

2024/04/22

Thilina Walpola

Prof Panditharathne and Sarath with the statue of Sir Ivor Jenning

by Dr. Santhushya Fernando, Dr. Laleen Jayamanne and Professor Sumathy Sivamohan

Unwritten I, II, III

In Sarath’s exhibition Visual Paraphrases there are three abstract paintings titled Unwritten I, II, III presenting an ‘open’ sequence with the Roman numerals. Why not the current Arabic numerals, we wonder. However, they were not hung together on the walls but arranged among the other more painterly abstract and semi-abstract expressionist work. Despite this, we will consider all three together as the artist himself has offered us a numerically abstract sequence rather than a spatially contiguous one and in so doing has stirred us conceptually to think their interrelationships even as we go deeper into the surface of these works. How shall we do this? Does a surface have depth? Might we slide laterally on it? As Sumathy might say, the ‘interstices’ or ‘gaps’ among the three paintings are significant in their quality of openness, a provocation for thought to take wing, one hopes.

The word ‘Unwritten’ is itself significant, different from the more familiar ‘Untitled’ as it makes one want to know the ‘what’ and ‘why’ of it? It seems significant that Unwritten I was painted on a ‘samara’ ground of the familiar and appealing orange colour and suggested by a wall at the Jaffna Railway Station that Sarath once saw. They appear to be graffiti like markings of fragments of letters, layers of them and also erasures, in black. The lines are ordered horizontally but the surface is disorderly, patches of scrubbings.

In this specific context any sign of erasure carries a hint of violence, memory of linguistic violence in Lankan political history and ethno-nationalism; the tarred Tamil Street signs of the 1950s. Sarath who was a child at the time, was told about the impact of the ethno-nationalist program of 1958 by his father who worked in Jaffna at that time as a multi-lingual policeman. He has visited Jaffna as a child while his father worked there, when he himself lived in Nuwara-Eliya with his grandparents.

Unwritten II evokes ancient history, rock and copper inscriptions and the ‘writing’ or motifs are highly ornamented, like calligraphy – ‘beautiful writing’ and suggests Shodo, ‘the way of the brush’ as in Japanese painting. The soft colours of the ornamental motifs, often curved, are pastel against a reddish hue and the edges of the painting are frayed like an ancient parchment. Whereas, Unwritten I’s hard-edged clearly delineated border makes it self-contained. One wonders if Sarath painted these three works also in chronological progression with one painting leading to the other or if all three were first conceived prior to painting. But then how do we as academics know how an artist’s mind works, its subtle unconscious processes. One feels that these paintings open a portal to ‘pre-subjective’ or pre-personal sensations, intensities and affects. There is no narcissistic Ego in this zone, much less a Super-Ego of the artist in search of his (sic) marketable signature.

“Eyeless in Gaza at the Mill with slaves” Samson Agonistes, Milton (1671)

And Unwritten III is the Ur image (also privileged as the cover image of the catalogue), a tribute to the primordial genesis of the human ‘will to write’… It feels as if making the two previous paintings has propelled Sarath into this embryonic zone of emergence of mark making by hand. The marks in this painting appear to be letters in an embryonic state, appearing to make meaningful shapes or letters. But the plethora of lines are in a virtual state, not yet actualised into letters, words, alphabets, writing. There are no hard or torn edges to this painting which appears without a framing frame as though the movements which animates it can go on without limit, like language itself.

This painting creates a sensation of movement because of the large centred circles. On closer observation they appear not to be concentric circles but a spiral of sorts, which is a dynamic line in nature as in the most ancient nautilus shell or a whirl pool. The horizontal lines in the top half of the painting are fairly tightly arranged, stable, made up of small pieces of charcoal pasted on to the surface of the painting, one by one, creating a slight thickness, a 3D effect, whereas the linear pencil lines are faint and light. But the marks swept up in the spiral are looser, almost playful as it sweeps it all up.

The swirling spiral is lightly brushed with a touch of gold and silver which makes one focus on the ‘ground’ or ‘surface’ of the painting which also has a few dabs of pure white paint. But neither art historical terms feel quite right because the markings seem to emerge from it rather than being simply on it. Are we seeing an embryogenesis of the ‘will to write’, one wonders; a kind of cellular drama of the momentous human struggle to create writing.

As the abstract shapes jostle and play around, writing begins to emerge as a letter here and there or a line about to turn into a familiar letter, say, in Brahmi, Sanskrit, Sinhala or … The overall Black & White with many shades of greys in between, modulates the space. Its regular rhythmic repetitions are like those of nature (not mechanistically uniform) therefore they stimulate the mind’s potential to differentiate this shape from that, this impulse of the hand from that, this material from that. The impulses of the hand and mind, a feel for texture, are perhaps more palpable to ‘the beholder’ of the painting face to face. This is the heady zone of intuitive perceptual awareness or consciousness.

This unusual painting feels like a tribute to the impulse and struggle of language creation as writing, in the movement of the hand, eye and brain in mark making. It’s a play of forms before they solidify into this or that language. A play impulse is perceptible in the many movements (scribbling, doodling, erasing … patterns of lines). We see the struggle of the mind, hand, eye moving towards that profound form of human abstraction, language as such (a symbolic form) which differentiate the human from other animal species but with whom we do share profound feelings.

They say that we started talking way before we began to write. Talking also is a form of abstraction, giving meaning to sounds coming out of the mouth and into the ears. The feel of the painting, its opacity is such that it just might be imagined as a paleo-anthropological object dug up by Siran Deraniyagala (and others), awaiting decipherment.

Sarath wanted a delicate grid of Gauze for his ground/surface/background (which is it?), pasted on a hard board to paint Unwritten III on. What are the implications of this faintly visible choice of a non-geometric grid? It is a hand-made, loosely woven light material with replete cultural and political weight, during this war in West Asia which Israel is waging against the Palestinians in Gaza.

There, where in ancient times, named after the prosperous cosmopolitan port city, Gauze was woven in cotton and silk. But now in Gaza, gauze has become a rarity to dress wounds with because hospitals have been bombed. In the subtle texture of gauze in Unwritten III the mind’s eye feels the presence of a body and of wounds it suffers because the eye itself has acquired the qualities of a touch that heals. Alois Riegel names this mode of up-close perception ‘Haptic’, which is related to a sense of touch. Many, perhaps touched by this painting, had asked Sarath from where they could by the ‘Gauze Boards’.

It is no accident that Unwritten III was purchased by Mr H. D. Premasiri, Sponsor and Chairman of the famed book shop happily named, Sarasawiya (University). It is worth remembering here and informing the Anglophile reader who may not know this history that Sarasawiya also published one of the most significant cultural magazines or newspapers and also sponsored the very first film festival of Sinhala films raising its cultural prestige among the intelligentsia of the country.

The journalists who wrote for the paper were among the most astute commentators on the arts and culture at large. Unwritten III now hangs in the Sarasawi collection at the recently opened branch in Panadura. It’s a pity though that all 3 abstract works were not bought by one collector or by a mandated Contemporary Art Institution and hung together. But we can imagine that an imaginary ‘Museum without Walls’ (ha! Malraux,) might float them in the air, where the winged painting, Flying Doors and Windows of Sundarampuram-Jaffna will no doubt welcome them!

Critical Reception

It appears to be the case that the Colombo centred art world elite and University academics in the Sinhala medium (those invited), have failed to attend this small, modest and quietly engrossing exhibition.

As for the distinguished embassy folk with an interest in Lanka’s cultural life, Sarath’s title is probably too foreign. But unusually, Sarath was trained in Britain, Russia, Japan, with work experience in Florence due to generous scholarships from the governments of these nations. Sarath’s statement of intention (sans rhetoric), is brief and craftsman like in its pragmatism, as is the title, dry even. In the catalogue essay Rev Fr Theodore Fernando Warnakulasuriya S.J. (former professor of the Open University), cautions the viewer not to expect a common authorial signature in a repeatable style to be neatly subsumed under this or that avant-garde ‘ism’.

In an interview with Sarath in English by Naveed Rozais (The Sunday Morning, Brunch), the focus was refreshingly not on ‘the angst of the artist-persona’, but rather on Fine Arts pedagogy and the need for a change in the school curriculum to include training in clay modelling (mati-vada) so as to study the third dimension of depth, to get a feel for it in childhood. It’s Sarath’s 6th solo exhibition and it’s been 18 years since his Path of Visual Arts, in 2005, which was a retrospective of his work (from its beginning in 1990), also at Barefoot Gallery, organised by his past pupils. There has been a flurry of enthusiastic pieces on the current exhibition in Sinhala, both in the press and in blogs, but no long review as yet.

We wonder how robust the theoretical literature on Lankan abstract art is in the three languages and what sort of history abstract art has had in the recent past, since, say, the pioneering work of H. A. Karunarathne in the late 50s. We hope our critical essay (backed up with research), with a principled theoretical-methodological framework will contribute to the existing discourse of Lankan abstract art and be translated into Tamil and Sinhala. Within this context it was heartening to learn that some of Sarath’s former students, now Art Teachers from Jaffna, did come all the way and stayed in a hotel overnight, spending the following day at the exhibition. And some folk had gone to see it several times.

Dominic Sansoni’s Barefoot Art Gallery

In this force field Dominic Sansoni continues to play a significant independent role (oblivious to the cut and thrust of polemics and the deep seated, decades long ferocious, unrelenting hostility to Sarath), at his Barefoot Gallery. As a photographer and the inheritor of Barbara Sansoni’s immense arts and crafts legacy, he has acted with principle, imagination and flare, in widening the public sphere for the arts. In this, he (as a gifted photographer himself), is in that brilliant lineage of Christian Burgher artists of Lanka such as Lionel Wendt, Geoffrey Beling, Aubrey Collette, David Paynter, Chris Greet (his nephew and stage and film actor), Arthur Van Langenburgh (gifted theatre director and known to Laleen as Uncle Arthur at St Bridget’s where he directed Gilbert and Sullivan Operas in the 60s), and Dominic’s mother Dr. Barbara Sansoni (Uncle Arthur’s niece), come immediately to mind.

As VC of the UVPA, Sarath nominated Barbara for an Honorary Ph.D., for her great contributions to Lankan culture, arts and crafts and the economy. It’s worth trying to trace this Christian cultural lineage (for Laleen, as a lapsed Roman Catholic), because she heard recently that a doctoral thesis on Christian Art in Sri Lanka was deemed, by at least one Sinhala examiner, to be not a category of Lankan art! She knows that there is much more of it (including Modernist Chapels in which she has once prayed, designed by Valentine Gunasekera, her brother-in-law), than Sinhala-Buddhist Nationalists would care to know. How can such academics continue to teach in our Universities? Sarath himself has made some significant Christian art in Bronze for the Basilica at Thewatte, though he himself is not a Christian he values the cultural contribution of all the religions of Lanka.

It is also Dominic who made the unusual suggestion, on his visit to Sarath’s Atelier, to include his six year-old granddaughter Ananya Ranmuthugala’s three paintings in his exhibition. Sarath writes his ‘Letter to my Grand-daughter with love’ in paint. It’s a series of neat little hearts in shades of pink and yellow, including flowers and a butterfly, very carefully painted-in without the spilling out.

A bit like the kind of ‘colouring in’ that children who start drawing are instructed to do in Kindy, and so get obsessed about neatness, staying within the contours. Sarath places the hearts within a few rectangles and Ananya responds with her own letters to her grand pa but with spirited expressionist type painterly gestures and bright colours, no doubt inspired by her grandfather’s bold strokes. There is no trace of ‘the art class’ here, though Ananya does take classes with Sarath, along with other children from 5-15. But she also has the rare gift of painting alongside her old grand-father. In writing this piece we also worked alongside each other because it appears to us as a respectful way to collaborate, to make tracks in unfamiliar zones. (Concluded)

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Features

The Venezuela Model:The new ugly and dangerous world order

Published

2 days ago

2026/01/9

Thilina Walpola

The US armed forces invading Venezuela, removing its President Nicolás Maduro from power and abducting him and his wife Cilia Flores on 3 January 2026, flying them to New York and producing Maduro in a New York kangaroo court is now stale news, but a fact. What is a far more potent fact is the pan-global impotent response to this aggression except in Latin America, China, Russia and a few others.

Colombian President Gustavo Petro described the attack as an “assault on the sovereignty” of Latin America, thereby portraying the aggression as an assault on the whole of Latin America. Brazilian President Luiz Inácio Lula da Silva referred to the attack as crossing “an unacceptable line” that set an “extremely dangerous precedent.” Again, one can see his concern goes beyond Venezuela. For Mexican President Claudia Sheinbaum the attack was in “clear violation” of the UN Charter, which again is a fact. But when it comes to powerful countries, the UN Charter has been increasingly rendered irrelevant over decades, and by extension, the UN itself. For the French Foreign Minister, the operation went against the “principle of non-use of force that underpins international law” and that lasting political solutions cannot be “imposed by the outside.” UN Secretary General António Guterres said he was “deeply alarmed” about the “dangerous precedent” the United States has set where rules of international law were not being respected. Russia, notwithstanding its bloody and costly entanglement in Ukraine, and China have also issued strong statements.

Comparatively however, many other countries, many of whom are long term US allies who have been vocal against the Russian aggression in Ukraine have been far more sedate in their reaction. Compared to his Foreign Minister, French President Emmanuel Macron said the Venezuelan people could “only rejoice” at the ousting of Maduro while the German Chancellor Friedrich Merz believed Maduro had “led his country into ruin” and that the U.S. intervention required “careful consideration.” The British and EU statements have been equally lukewarm. India’s and Sri Lanka’s statements do not even mention the US while Sri Lanka’s main coalition partner the JVP has issued a strongly worded statement.

Taken together, what is lacking in most of these views, barring a negligible few, especially from the so-called powerful countries, is the moral indignation or outrage on a broad scale that used to be the case in similar circumstances earlier. It appears that a new ugly and dangerous world order has finally arrived, footprints of which have been visible for some time.

It is not that the US has not invaded sovereign countries and affected regime change or facilitated such change for political or economic reasons earlier. This has been attempted in Cuba without success since the 1950s but with success in Chile in 1973 under the auspices of Augusto Pinochet that toppled the legitimate government of president Salvador Allende and established a long-lasting dictatorship friendly towards the US; the invasion of Panama and the ouster and capture of President Manuel Noriega in 1989 and the 2003 invasion of Iraq both of which were conducted under the presidency of George Bush.

These are merely a handful of cross border criminal activities against other countries focused on regime change that the US has been involved in since its establishment which also includes the ouster of President of Guyana Cheddi Jagan in 1964, the US invasion of the Dominican Republic in 1965 stop the return of President Juan Bosch to prevent a ‘communist resurgence’; the 1983 US invasion of Grenada after the overthrow and killing of Prime Minister Maurice Bishop purportedly to ensure that the island would not become a ‘Soviet-Cuban’ colony. A more recent adventure was the 2004 removal and kidnapping of the Haitian President Jean-Bertrand Aristide, which also had French support.

There is however a difference between all the earlier examples of US aggression and the Venezuelan operation. The earlier operations where the real reasons may have varied from political considerations based on ideological divergence to crude economics, were all couched in the rhetoric of democracy. That is, they were undertaken in the guise of ushering democratic changes in those countries, the region or the world irrespective of the long-term death and destruction which followed in some locations. But in Venezuela under President Donald Trump, it is all about controlling natural resources in that country to satisfy US commercial interests.

The US President is already on record for saying the US will “run” Venezuela until a “safe transition” is concluded and US oil companies will “go in, spend billions of dollars, fix the badly broken infrastructure, the oil infrastructure, and start making money” – ostensibly for the US and those in Venezuela who will tag the US line. Trump is also on record saying that the main aim of the operation was to regain U.S. oil rights, which according to him were “stolen” when Venezuela nationalized the industry. The nationalization was obviously to ensure that the funds from the industry remained in the country even though in later times this did lead to massive internal corruption.

Let’s be realistic. Whatever the noise of the new rhetoric is, this is not about ‘developing’ Venezuela for the benefit of its people based on some unknown streak of altruism but crudely controlling and exploiting its natural assets as was the case with Iraq. As crude as it is, one must appreciate Trump’s unintelligent honesty stemming from his own unmitigated megalomania. Whatever US government officials may say, the bottom line is the entire operation was planned and carried out purely for commercial and monetary gain while the pretext was Maduro being ‘a narco-terrorist.’ There is no question that Maduro was a dictator who was ruining his own country. But there is also no question that it is not the business of the US or any other country to decide what his or Venezuela’s fate is. That remains with the Venezuelan people.

What is dangerous is, the same ‘narco-terrorist’ rhetoric can also be applied to other Latin American countries such as Columbia, Brazil and Mexico which also produce some of the narcotics that come into the US consumer markets. The response should be not to invade these countries to stem the flow, but to deal with the market itself, which is the US. In real terms what Trump has achieved with his invasion of Venezuela for purely commercial gain and greed, followed by the abject silence or lukewarm reaction from most of the world, is to create a dangerous and ugly new normal for military actions across international borders. The veneer of democracy has also been dispensed with.

The danger lies in the fact that this new doctrine or model Trump has devised can similarly be applied to any country whose resources or land a powerful megalomaniac leader covets as long as he has unlimited access to military assets of his country, backed by the dubius remnants of the political and social safety networks, commonsense and ethics that have been conveniently dismantled. This is a description of the present-day United States too. This danger is boosted when the world remains silent. After the success of the Venezuela operation, Trump has already upended his continuing threats to annex Greenland because “we need Greenland from the standpoint of national security.” Greenland too is not about security, but commerce given its vast natural resources.

Hours after Venezuela, Trump threatened the Colombian President Gustavo Petro to “watch his ass.” In the present circumstances, Canadians also would not have forgotten Trump’s threat earlier in 2025 to annex Canada. But what the US President and his current bandwagon replete with arrogance and depleted intelligence would not understand is, beyond the short-term success of the Venezuela operation and its euphoria, the dangerous new normal they have ushered in would also create counter threats towards the US, the region and the world in a scale far greater than what exists today. The world will also become a far less safe place for ordinary American citizens.

More crucially, it will also complicate global relations. It would no longer be possible for the mute world leaders to condemn Russian action in Ukraine or if China were to invade Taiwan. The model has been created by Trump, and these leaders have endorsed it. My reading is that their silence is not merely political timidity, but strategic to their own national and self-interest, to see if the Trump model could be adopted in other situations in future if the fallout can be managed.

The model for the ugly new normal has been created and tested by Trump. Its deciding factors are greed and dismantled ethics. It is now up to other adventurers to fine tune it. We would be mere spectators and unwitting casualties.

Features

Beyond the beauty: Hidden risks at waterfalls

Published

2 days ago

2026/01/9

Thilina Walpola

Bambarakanda waterfall. Image courtesy LANKA EXCURSIONS HOLIDAYS

Sri Lanka is blessed with a large number of scenic waterfalls, mainly concentrated in the central highlands. These natural features substantially enhance the country’s attractiveness to tourists. Further, these famous waterfalls equally attract thousands of local visitors throughout the year.

While waterfalls offer aesthetic appeal, a serene environment, and recreational opportunities, they also pose a range of significant hazards. Unfortunately, the visitors are often unable to identify these different types of risks, as site-specific safety information and proper warning signs are largely absent. In most locations, only general warnings are displayed, often limited to the number of past fatalities. This can lead visitors to assume that bathing is the sole hazard, which is not the case. Therefore, understanding the full range of waterfall-related risks and implementing appropriate safety measures is essential for preventing loss of life. This article highlights site-specific hazards to raise public awareness and prevent people from putting their lives at risk due to these hidden dangers.

Flash floods and resultant water surges

Flash floods are a significant hazard in hill-country waterfalls. According to the country’s topography, most of the streams originate from the catchments in the hilly areas upstream of the waterfalls. When these catchments receive intense rainfalls, the subsequent runoff will flow down as flash floods. This will lead to an unexpected rise in the flow of the waterfall, increasing the risk of drowning and even sweeping away people. Therefore, bathing at such locations is extremely dangerous, and those who are even at the river banks have to be vigilant and should stay away from the stream as much as possible. The Bopath Ella, Ravana Ella, and a few waterfalls located in the Belihul Oya area, closer to the A99 road, are classic examples of this scenario.

Water currents

The behaviour of water in the natural pool associated with the waterfall is complex and unpredictable. Although the water surface may appear calm, strong subsurface currents and hydraulic forces exist that even a skilled swimmer cannot overcome. Hence, a person who immerses confidently may get trapped inside and disappear. Water from a high fall accelerates rapidly, forming hydraulic jumps and vortices that can trap swimmers or cause panic. Hence, bathing in these natural pools should be totally avoided unless there is clear evidence that they are safe.

Slipping risks

Slipping is a common hazard around waterfalls. Sudden loss of footing can lead to serious injuries or fatal falls into deep pools or rock surfaces. The area around many waterfalls consists of steep, slippery rocks due to moisture and the growth of algae. Sometimes, people are overconfident and try to climb these rocks for the thrill of it and to get a better view of the area. Further, due to the presence of submerged rocks, water depths vary in the natural pool area, and there is a chance of sliding down along slippery rocks into deep water. Waterfalls such as Diyaluma, Bambarakanda, and Ravana Falls are likely locations for such hazards, and caution around these sites is a must.

Rockfalls

Rockfalls are a significant hazard around waterfalls in steep terrains. Falling rocks can cause serious injuries or fatalities, and smaller stones may also be carried by fast-flowing water. People bathing directly beneath waterfalls, especially smaller ones, are therefore exposed to a high risk of injury. Accordingly, regardless of the height of the waterfall, bathing under the falling water should be avoided.

Hypothermia and cold shock

Hypothermia is a drop in body temperature below 35°C due to cold exposure. This leads to mental confusion, slowed heartbeat, muscle stiffening, and even cardiac arrest may follow. Waterfalls in Nuwara Eliya district often have very low water temperatures. Hence, immersing oneself in these waters is dangerous, particularly for an extended period.

Human negligence

Additional hazards also arise from visitors’ own negligence. Overcrowding at popular waterfalls significantly increases the risk of accidents, including slips and falls from cliffs. Sometimes, visitors like to take adventurous photographs in dangerous positions. Reckless behavior, such as climbing over barriers, ignoring warning signs, or swimming in prohibited zones, amplifies the risk.

Mitigation and safety

measures

Mitigation of waterfall-related hazards requires a combination of public awareness, engineering solutions, and policy enforcement. Clear warning signs that indicate the specific hazards associated with the water fall, rather than general hazard warnings, must be fixed. Educating visitors verbally and distributing bills that include necessary guidelines at ticket counters, where applicable, will be worth considering. Furthermore, certain restrictions should vary depending on the circumstances, especially seasonal variation of water flow, existing weather, etc.

Physical barriers should be installed to prevent access to dangerous areas by fencing. A viewing platform can protect people from many hazards discussed above. For bathing purposes, safer zones can be demarcated with access facilities.

Installing an early warning system for heavily crowded waterfalls like Bopath Ella, which is prone to flash floods, is worth implementing. Through a proper mechanism, a warning system can alert visitors when the upstream area receives rainfall that may lead to flash floods in the stream.

At present, there are hardly any officials to monitor activities around waterfalls. The local authorities that issue tickets and collect revenue have to deploy field officers to these waterfalls sites for monitoring the activities of visitors. This will help reduce not only accidents but also activities that cause environmental pollution and damage. We must ensure that these natural treasures remain a source of wonder rather than danger.

(The writer is a chartered Civil Engineer specialising in water resources engineering)

By Eng. Thushara Dissanayake ✍️

Features

From sacred symbol to silent victim: Sri Lanka’s elephants in crisis

Published

2 days ago

2026/01/9

Thilina Walpola

The year 2025 began with grim news. On 1st January, a baby elephant was struck and killed by a train in Habarana, marking the start of a tragic series of elephant–train collisions that continued throughout the year. In addition to these incidents, the nation mourned the deaths of well-known elephants such as Bathiya and Kandalame Hedakaraya, among many others. As the year drew on, further distressing reports emerged, including the case of an injured elephant that was burnt with fire, an act of extreme cruelty that ultimately led to its death. By the end of the year, Sri Lanka recorded the highest number of elephant deaths in Asia.

This sorrowful reality stands in stark contrast to Sri Lanka’s ancient spiritual heritage. Around 250 BCE, at Mihintale, Arahant Mahinda delivered the Cūḷahatthipadopama Sutta (The Shorter Discourse on the Simile of the Elephant’s Footprint) to King Devanampiyatissa, marking the official introduction of Buddhism to the island. The elephant, a symbol deeply woven into this historic moment, was once associated with wisdom, restraint, and reverence.

Yet the recent association between Mihintale and elephants has been anything but noble. At Mihintale an elephant known as Ambabo, already suffering from a serious injury to his front limb due to human–elephant conflict (HEC), endured further cruelty when certain local individuals attempted to chase him away using flaming torches, burning him with fire. Despite the efforts of wildlife veterinary surgeons, Ambabo eventually succumbed to his injuries. The post-mortem report confirmed severe liver and kidney impairment, along with extensive trauma caused by the burns.

Was prevention possible?

The question that now arises is whether this tragedy could have been prevented.

To answer this, we must examine what went wrong.

When Ambabo first sustained an injury to his forelimb, he did receive veterinary treatment. However, after this initial care, no close or continuous monitoring was carried out. This lack of follow-up is extremely dangerous, especially when an injured elephant remains near human settlements. In such situations, some individuals may attempt to chase, harass, or further harm the animal, without regard for its condition.

A similar sequence of events occurred in the case of Bathiya. He was initially wounded by a trap gun—devices generally intended for poaching bush meat rather than targeting elephants. Following veterinary treatment, his condition showed signs of improvement. Tragically, while he was still recovering, he was shot a second time behind the ear. This second wound likely damaged vital nerves, including the vestibular nerve, which plays a critical role in balance, coordination of movement, gaze stabilisation, spatial orientation, navigation, and trunk control. In effect, the second shooting proved far more devastating than the first.

After Bathiya received his initial treatment, he was left without proper protection due to the absence of assigned wildlife rangers. This critical gap in supervision created the opportunity for the second attack. Only during the final stages of his suffering were the 15th Sri Lanka Artillery Regiment, the 9th Battalion of the Sri Lanka National Guard, and the local police deployed—an intervention that should have taken place much earlier.

Likewise, had Ambabo been properly monitored and protected after his injury, it is highly likely that his condition would not have deteriorated to such a tragic extent.

It should also be mentioned that when an injured animal like an elephant is injured, the animal will undergo a condition that is known as ‘capture myopathy’. It is a severe and often fatal condition that affects wild animals, particularly large mammals such as elephants, deer, antelope, and other ungulates. It is a stress-induced disease that occurs when an animal experiences extreme physical exertion, fear, or prolonged struggle during capture, restraint, transport, or pursuit by humans. The condition develops when intense stress causes a surge of stress hormones, leading to rapid muscle breakdown. This process releases large amounts of muscle proteins and toxins into the bloodstream, overwhelming vital organs such as the kidneys, heart, and liver. As a result, the animal may suffer from muscle degeneration, dehydration, metabolic acidosis, and organ failure. Clinical signs of capture myopathy include muscle stiffness, weakness, trembling, incoordination, abnormal posture, collapse, difficulty breathing, dark-coloured urine, and, in severe cases, sudden death. In elephants, the condition can also cause impaired trunk control, loss of balance, and an inability to stand for prolonged periods. Capture myopathy can appear within hours of a stressful event or may develop gradually over several days. So, if the sick animal is harassed like it happened to Ambabo, it does only make things worse. Unfortunately, once advanced symptoms appear, treatment is extremely difficult and survival rates are low, making prevention the most effective strategy.

What needs to be done?

Ambabo’s harassment was not an isolated incident; at times injured elephants have been subjected to similar treatment by local communities. When an injured elephant remains close to human settlements, it is essential that wildlife officers conduct regular and continuous monitoring. In fact, it should be made mandatory to closely observe elephants in critical condition for a period even after treatment has been administered—particularly when they remain in proximity to villages. This approach is comparable to admitting a critically ill patient to a hospital until recovery is assured.

At present, such sustained monitoring is difficult due to the severe shortage of staff in the Department of Wildlife Conservation. Addressing this requires urgent recruitment and capacity-building initiatives, although these solutions cannot be realised overnight. In the interim, it is vital to enlist the support of the country’s security forces. Their involvement is not merely supportive—it is essential for protecting both wildlife and people.

To mitigate HEC, a Presidential Committee comprising wildlife specialists developed a National Action Plan in 2020. The strategies outlined in this plan were selected for their proven effectiveness, adaptability across different regions and timeframes, and cost-efficiency. The process was inclusive, incorporating extensive consultations with the public and relevant authorities. If this Action Plan is fully implemented, it holds strong potential to significantly reduce HEC and prevent tragedies like the suffering endured by Ambabo. In return it will also benefit villagers living in those areas.

In conclusion, I would like to share the wise words of Arahant Mahinda to the king, which, by the way, apply to every human being:

O’ great king, the beasts that roam the forest and birds that fly the skies have the same right to this land as you. The land belongs to the people and to all other living things, and you are not its owner but only its guardian.

by Tharindu Muthukumarana ✍️
tharinduele@gmail.com
(Author of the award-winning book “The Life of Last Proboscideans: Elephants”)