Features

Flood Relief Should Help Victims, Not Bureaucracies

Published

6 months ago

2025/12/21

A bridge damaged by Cyclone Ditwah in the Badulla District on 13 December undergoing repairs. (Photo by Ajith Perera/Xinhua)

Sri Lanka has the capacity to respond to disaster. Donors should let it.

When floods swept through Sri Lanka in late November and early December, the need for swift assistance was undeniable. Lives were disrupted, livelihoods destroyed, and communities left exposed. In moments like these, speed matters. Judgment does too.

That is why the announcement on December 11 by Marc-André Franche, the United Nations resident coordinator in Sri Lanka, deserves closer attention. Mr. Franche said the U.N. was seeking to mobilize $35 million from donors, to be channeled through U.N. agencies for flood relief. About $9.5 million, he noted, had already been pledged, including by the European Union, Switzerland, Britain and the United States.

No one disputes that Sri Lanka needs help. The question is why the United Nations is setting up a parallel funding channel at all, when the Sri Lankan government has already activated its Disaster Management Fund, administered through national disaster authorities, and is actively seeking donor contributions for it.

U.N. appeals typically follow disasters when national institutions lack the capacity to deliver aid, when markets have collapsed, when donors distrust state systems, or when conflict makes neutrality essential. That logic held after the 2004 tsunami when large stretches of Sri Lanka’s coastline were under the control of the LTTE and again during the 2022 economic crisis when the government had reached an all-time low in terms of public distrust. It is much less obvious that any of those conditions apply today.

The United Nations, of course, has an argument of its own. Its agencies can move quickly in the first days of a crisis, drawing on pre-positioned stocks, standing contracts and surge staff. Many Western donors prefer routing funds through the U.N., pointing to fiduciary safeguards, standardized procurement rules and the political insulation that multilateral channels provide. In fragile or conflict-affected settings, neutrality can be indispensable.

In Sri Lanka’s current context, however, those arguments carry less weight. The government retains full territorial control. Markets are functioning. Public financial-management systems have undergone internationally validated reforms. Speed matters most in the first days of a disaster, precisely the window for which the U.N.’s global emergency fund, CERF, is designed. Beyond that initial phase, the rationale for diverting large sums into parallel bureaucratic systems weakens considerably. The prime minister announced this week that Sri Lanka has now moved into the next phase of recovery following the initial rescue and relief operations, making it all the more important that a parallel system not be entrenched. Coordination does not require financial control, and fiduciary risk alone cannot justify structural inefficiency where capable national systems already exist.

This debate is not confined to humanitarian aid. Earlier this year, Sri Lanka’s foreign minister rejected calls for expanded investigations by the Office of the High Commissioner for Human Rights, arguing that externally driven accountability mechanisms risk undermining domestic processes and deepening political polarization. The government has maintained that questions of accountability and reconciliation should be addressed through Sri Lanka’s own legal and institutional frameworks. Whether one agrees or disagrees, the position reflects a consistent assertion by the state: parallel international mechanisms are not a substitute for functioning national systems. That logic applies as much to disaster response as it does to human rights oversight.

The government also maintains, credibly, that it has the administrative capacity, market access and logistical reach to manage emergency relief. After years of painful reform following the economic crisis, transparency in public finance has become a point of national pride. That assessment is not based on government assertion alone. In the wake of Sri Lanka’s economic crisis, both the International Monetary Fund and the World Bank have publicly acknowledged improvements in the country’s public financial management, transparency and fiscal oversight.

As part of the IMF-supported reform program, Sri Lanka has strengthened budget reporting, procurement controls and audit functions, while the World Bank has expanded technical assistance aimed at modernizing treasury systems, improving cash management and increasing the transparency of public expenditure. These reforms are incomplete and fragile, but they represent a material shift from the post-tsunami and post-economic crises period and are precisely the kinds of national systems donors say they want to support rather than bypass.

Moreover, there is no shortage of food or basic goods. What cannot be sourced locally can be procured quickly from neighboring countries. Logistically, too, U.N. agencies rely heavily on government departments, local NGOs and the private sector to deliver assistance. They no longer maintain the extensive field operations they once did during the civil war and the tsunami, which further weakens the argument that international organizations are best placed to manage large-scale delivery.

At its core, this debate is not really about the United Nations at all. It is about how donors and international organizations can best help countries like Sri Lanka recover from crises such as Ditwah. Notably, it is almost exclusively Western donors, as announced by the United Nations, that have chosen to channel assistance through this parallel mechanism, alongside a contribution announced by Japan a few days later. By contrast, countries from the Global South and other non-Western states — including India, China, Pakistan, Nepal, the Maldives, Saudi Arabia, the United Arab Emirates, Russia and Myanmar — have provided support largely through state-led mechanisms. The contrast is striking. It raises legitimate questions about why donor approaches diverge so sharply, and whether such differences risk blurring the lines between humanitarian assistance and broader geopolitical considerations, including perceptions of neutrality.

So why route scarce donor dollars through the U.N. and other large international organizations?

One explanation lies in the U.N.’s own financial distress. Its global budget is under unprecedented strain, weakened by chronic nonpayment from major contributors. In that environment, disasters also become opportunities to mobilize resources for the U.N. system itself, some of which eventually reach victims after passing through multiple institutional layers. Those layers come at a cost.

Donors, too, face incentives that discourage questioning the status quo. Aid ministries operate within rigid annual budget cycles and are under pressure to commit and disburse funds within a given fiscal year. Channeling money through large multilateral agencies offers a convenient solution: funds move quickly off national balance sheets, fiduciary responsibility is formally transferred, and donor governments can report internationally that they are supporting recognized humanitarian institutions. This dynamic helps explain why donor behavior often clusters around multilateral channels, particularly among Western governments operating within similar fiscal and political constraints, even when alternative models may offer greater value for money.

A major sector-wide analysis by Humanitarian Outcomes, linked to ALNAP, found that humanitarian financing dominated by large multilateral agencies is often slow and administratively heavy, particularly in the early days of a crisis. High transaction costs, including reporting requirements, compliance procedures and repeated donor processes, reduce the share of funds that reach people when they need them most.

Officially, U.N. agencies recover between seven and 13 percent of funds as “programme support costs,” money retained at headquarters for back-office functions. These funds never reach country offices. Beyond this, agencies charge the full cost of what they define as direct project expenses to donor-funded budgets. These include international and national staff salaries, consultants, vehicles, security, office rent, information technology, monitoring and evaluation, and donor-specific reporting.

Independent research by Development Initiatives and repeated observations by the U.N. Board of Auditors show that once these administrative and management costs are included, non-beneficiary expenditures can consume more than 40 percent of project budgets. In practical terms, a dollar routed through multilateral humanitarian channels may deliver less than fifty cents of tangible assistance on the ground.

(By contrast, providing direct cash assistance to victims of natural disasters typically costs less than five percent in administrative overhead and has been shown globally to be among the most effective and dignified forms of aid when local markets are functioning.)

Sri Lanka has seen this before.

After the 2004 tsunami, the U.N. system raised an unprecedented $120–140 million for Sri Lanka across agencies including UNICEF, the World Food Program, UNDP, UNHCR, WHO and FAO. Yet independent evaluations found that a year later, less than half of these funds had been disbursed — and “disbursed” often meant transferred to another intermediary rather than translated into houses, boats or livelihoods.

A senior U.N. official remarked at the time that “we have built many houses in our financial systems, but not a single one on the ground.”

In one telling episode, staff were encouraged to boost “delivery” figures by purchasing vehicles deemed necessary for field operations. Each U.N.-specification Land Cruiser cost roughly $40,000. At the government’s post-tsunami grant rate in 2005, that sum could have rebuilt more than 16 fully destroyed houses, housing roughly 80 people.

And it is not just a legacy of the tsunami years.

Recent experience offers a cautionary example. In June 2022, the United Nations launched a Humanitarian Needs and Priorities Plan for Sri Lanka, appealing for $149.7 million to assist 3.4 million vulnerable people across sectors including food, health and protection. The U.N.’s own Financial Tracking Service records that $182.4 million in humanitarian assistance flowed to Sri Lanka that year. Yet there is not a single publicly available document that consolidates how this money was actually spent, let alone one that distinguishes administrative and program costs from aid delivered on the ground.

The U.N.’s Sri Lanka Annual Results Reports for 2022 and 2023 avoid financial reporting altogether, focusing instead on broad, self-reported “results” that are difficult to verify. As of December 2025, the Annual Results Report for 2024 has still not been made public, an omission that would be unacceptable in most other institutional settings.

To be fair, the distrust that followed the tsunami and resurfaced during the 2022 economic crisis did not emerge in a vacuum. Weak governance, corruption scandals and the politicization of aid eroded donor confidence and justified heightened scrutiny at the time. But the lesson should not be that parallel systems are a permanent substitute for national ones. It should be that rebuilding trust requires transparency, independent oversight and accountability anchored in domestic institutions, not bypassing them indefinitely.

Sri Lanka’s experience is not unique. Evaluations from Indonesia after the Sulawesi earthquake, the Philippines after Typhoon Haiyan and India following the Kerala floods point to a similar conclusion: where capable state systems exist, parallel humanitarian financing often delays the transition from response to recovery rather than accelerating it.

The international humanitarian system, including U.N. agencies, also suffers from predictable incentive problems. Success is measured by money raised and money spent, not by recovery speed, resilience built or local capacity strengthened. Under annual appropriations and performance metrics focused on throughput, institutions optimize for what they are measured on. The result is a system that excels at mobilization and spending but struggles with efficiency and long-term impact.

There is one partial exception. The U.N. Central Emergency Response Fund, or CERF, is designed to provide rapid liquidity in the earliest days of a crisis. In early December, Sri Lanka received $4.5 million from CERF. Even here, transparency matters. Much of this funding replenishes pre-positioned stocks already drawn down, reimbursing existing expenditures rather than creating net new capacity. Public visibility into how those stocks are valued and how CERF disbursements align with national recovery plans remains limited.

None of this is an argument for excluding the U.N. altogether. Its technical expertise in water and sanitation, logistics, disease surveillance, and the protection of women and children can be invaluable. But that expertise is most effective when embedded within government systems, supporting ministries and local administrations, and focused on building durable national capacity rather than running parallel delivery structures.

Sri Lanka has learned hard lessons from past experiments. After the tsunami, $10 million in donor funds administered through UNDP were used to establish a Donor Assistance Database intended to track aid flows. It never delivered on its promise. Housed in an ad hoc agency that no longer exists, it disappeared along with the institution and the money.

A more constructive model is within reach. Donors could capitalize the Disaster Management Fund directly, subject to independent audits, real-time public dashboards and agreed performance benchmarks. The U.N. could provide embedded technical advisers and act as a third-party monitor, stepping in operationally only if clearly defined capacity thresholds fail.

Such a model would also clarify institutional roles. The Ministry of Finance would retain responsibility for budget execution, procurement and financial reporting. The Central Bank could support real-time monitoring of fund flows, liquidity management and payment systems, ensuring both speed and traceability. Parliamentary oversight, exercised through existing committees, would provide an additional layer of accountability, reviewing expenditures, audit findings and performance against agreed benchmarks. Together, these institutions offer a framework for transparency and control that donors routinely demand, without outsourcing financial authority to parallel external structures.

This is not to suggest that the government can or should act alone. Effective disaster response depends on a wide ecosystem that includes local NGOs, community-based organizations, the Sri Lankan private sector and international partners. Each brings capabilities the state does not always possess, from last-mile delivery and social trust to logistics, technology and specialized expertise. But direct intervention by international actors should be grounded in a clear, justifiable and verifiable comparative advantage, and accompanied by accountability mechanisms that are transparent, measurable and aligned with national systems. Absent that test, parallel intervention risks weakening, rather than strengthening, the very capacities disasters expose.

If the goal is genuine national ownership, stronger domestic institutions and cost-effective, sustainable results that reach those most affected, then the current model for delivering and accounting for aid deserves closer scrutiny. Rethinking that model is not optional; it is essential. The choice is not between national systems and international expertise. It is between financing delivery and financing bureaucracy.

The U.N. works in Sri Lanka at the government’s invitation. The country pays assessed contributions, provides prime land in Colombo rent-free, and covers utilities and services. That gives Sri Lankans not just the right, but the obligation, to ask hard questions.

If the U.N. secretary-general has pledged “all possible assistance,” as reported, the most constructive step now would be a simple one: support the Disaster Management Fund rather than compete with it.

As José Ramos-Horta, the Nobel Peace Prize–winning president of Timor-Leste, once observed of the vast U.N. administration that governed his country after independence, billions were spent “on Timor-Leste, but not in Timor-Leste.”

Sri Lanka, having learned once at great cost, should not have to learn that lesson again.

by a special correspondent

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Features

Power crept into the Sangha and is now tearing it apart

Published

1 day ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

A file photo of Buddhist monks engaged in a protest

For more than a century, Sri Lankan society has lived with a quiet contradiction at the heart of its religious life. On the one hand, the Buddhist monk is revered as the embodiment of moral discipline, selfrestraint, and renunciation. On the other, the modern monk has become a public figure, political actor, administrator, media personality, and in some cases power broker whose influence extends far beyond the temple. This contradiction has been tolerated, even celebrated, for decades. But recent events, most notably a widely publicised case involving a senior monk accused of grave moral misconduct, have forced the country to confront a painful truth: the institutional conditions that make such scandals possible are not new. They are the predictable outcome of a long historical process that H. L. Seneviratne described with remarkable clarity in The Work of Kings. The moral deterioration visible today is not an aberration. It is the culmination of a centurylong transformation in the identity, function, and authority of the Sangha.

To understand how we arrived at this moment, it is necessary to revisit the argument Seneviratne made nearly three decades ago. His thesis was simple but profound: the modern Sri Lankan monkhood has taken on the ‘work of kings.’ By this he meant that monks, instead of confining themselves to the renunciant life prescribed by the Vinaya, have assumed the secular responsibilities once associated with precolonial kingship, such as protecting the religion, organising society, guiding the nation, and enforcing moral order. This shift, he argued, was not a natural evolution of Buddhist tradition but a modern invention shaped by colonialism, nationalism, and the anxieties of a society struggling to redefine itself in the face of foreign domination. The monk became a symbol of national identity, a guardian of cultural authenticity, and a leader in the struggle for political autonomy. In the process, the boundaries that once separated the monastic from the worldly began to dissolve.

Transformation

The consequences of this transformation were not immediately visible. For decades, the activist monk was celebrated as a patriot, a reformer, and a moral guide. His involvement in education, social welfare, and nationalist mobilisation was seen as a necessary response to colonial pressures and missionary competition. But beneath the surface, the foundations of monastic discipline were slowly eroding. The Vinaya, which had served for centuries as a rigorous framework for regulating monastic life, was increasingly overshadowed by the demands of public engagement. The communal structures that once ensured accountability, senior supervision, collective confession, and the daily rhythms of monastic routine, were weakened by the pressures of modernity. Monks who travelled constantly, managed institutions, or lived independently in urban temples found themselves outside the traditional systems of oversight that had long protected the integrity of the Sangha.

Scandal

It is within this historical context that the recent scandal must be understood. The case shocked the nation not only because of the severity of the allegations but because it shattered the public’s assumption that the monkhood remains a bastion of moral purity. Yet the shock itself reveals a collective denial. For years, Sri Lankan society has been aware, sometimes quietly, sometimes openly—of the growing gap between the ideal of the monk and the realities of modern monastic life. Stories of misconduct, financial irregularities, political manipulation, and abuse of authority have circulated with increasing frequency. But each incident has been treated as an isolated failure, a personal weakness, or an unfortunate exception. What has been missing is recognition that these incidents are symptoms of a deeper structural problem.

Seneviratne’s analysis helps illuminate this problem. When monks take on the work of kings, they inevitably enter domains of power that expose them to temptations the Vinaya was designed to avoid. Handling money, managing institutions, cultivating political patrons, and exercising authority over laypeople create opportunities for ego, ambition, and moral compromise. The monk who becomes a public figure is no longer shielded by the anonymity and humility of the renunciant life. Instead, he becomes a celebrity, a leader, and in some cases an object of uncritical devotion. This elevation brings with it a dangerous form of immunity. Laypeople who revere a monk for his public achievements may hesitate to question his behaviour. Politicians who rely on monastic support may protect him from scrutiny. The media, which often treats monks as moral authorities, may be reluctant to investigate allegations that challenge the sanctity of the robe.

The recent scandal illustrates how these dynamics can converge. The monk at the centre of the case was not an obscure figure. He was a respected preacher, charismatic leader, and head of a prominent institution. His public image was built on years of service, teaching, and community engagement. Yet it was precisely this public stature that allowed him to operate without meaningful oversight. The institutional structures around him, administrators, lay supporters, and junior monks, were either unwilling or unable to challenge his authority. The very qualities that made him a respected figure in the eyes of the public also made him untouchable within his own institution. When allegations finally emerged, they revealed not only personal wrongdoing but a systemic failure of accountability.

Failure that is not unique

This failure is not unique to one temple or one monk. It reflects a broader pattern within the modern Sangha. As monastic institutions have grown in size, wealth, and influence, their internal governance has struggled to keep pace. Many temples operate as semiautonomous entities controlled by a single monk or a small group of monks. Financial transparency is limited, administrative oversight is weak, and the mechanisms for addressing misconduct are often informal or ineffective. The traditional structures of monastic discipline, such as the Sangharama procedures for adjudicating offences, are rarely used in modern contexts, partly because they require collective participation and partly because they are illsuited to the complexities of contemporary institutional life. In practice, this means that monks who wield significant authority can act with little fear of internal sanction.

The politicisation of the Sangha has further complicated matters. Since the midtwentieth century, monks have played an increasingly prominent role in electoral politics, nationalist movements, and public policy debates. This involvement has given them access to political networks that can be mobilised to protect their interests. It has also created a culture in which monks are valued not for their adherence to the Vinaya but for their ability to influence public opinion, mobilise voters, or lend moral legitimacy to political causes. In such an environment, the monk who is politically useful may be shielded from criticism, while the monk who adheres strictly to the renunciant ideal may find himself marginalised or ignored.

The result is a profound distortion of monastic identity. The monk who once sought liberation from worldly attachments is now encouraged to cultivate influence, authority, and public recognition. The monk who once lived under the strict supervision of senior elders now operates in a world where independence is celebrated and oversight is minimal. The monk who once relied on laypeople for basic sustenance now controls vast resources, manages institutions, and commands the loyalty of thousands of followers. This inversion of traditional roles has created a fertile ground for moral deterioration.

Yet it would be a mistake to interpret this deterioration as evidence that the Sangha as a whole is corrupt. Many monks continue to live lives of remarkable discipline, humility, and spiritual dedication. In remote forest monasteries, small village temples, and meditation centres across the country, monks quietly uphold the ancient ideals of the renunciant life. They are not the ones who appear on television, lead political rallies, or manage large institutions. Their work is invisible, their influence subtle, and their commitment unwavering. The crisis facing the Sangha today is not a crisis of individual morality but a crisis of institutional identity. It is the product of a centurylong transformation that has blurred the boundaries between the monastic and the secular, the spiritual and the political, the renunciant and the worldly.

If Sri Lanka is to address this crisis, it must begin by acknowledging the structural nature of the problem. The temptation to treat each scandal as an isolated incident must be resisted. Instead, the country must confront the uncomfortable reality that the modern configuration of monastic life is fundamentally at odds with the principles of the Vinaya. The Sangha cannot simultaneously function as a political force, a social service provider, a media institution, and a spiritual community without compromising its integrity. The more monks are drawn into the world, the more vulnerable they become to the moral dangers that the Buddha warned against.

Reform, therefore, must focus not only on punishing individual offenders but on rethinking the institutional structures that enable misconduct. This includes strengthening internal governance, enhancing financial transparency, restoring the authority of senior elders, and reestablishing the communal practices that once ensured accountability. It also requires a broader cultural shift in how laypeople relate to monks. Blind devotion must give way to informed respect. Reverence must be balanced with responsibility. The robe must be honoured, but it must not be used as a shield against scrutiny.

Seneviratne’s work offers a valuable starting point for this rethinking. His analysis reminds us that the crisis facing the Sangha is not the result of moral decline alone but of historical forces that reshaped the identity of the monkhood. By tracing the evolution of the activist monk, he shows how the Sangha became entangled in the political and social structures of the modern nationstate. This entanglement has brought both benefits and dangers. It has allowed monks to play important roles in education, social welfare, and national development. But it has also exposed them to the corrupting influences of power, wealth, and public acclaim.

The challenge now is to disentangle the Sangha from these influences without undermining its ability to serve society. This will not be easy. The activist monk has become deeply embedded in the cultural and political fabric of the country. Many laypeople expect monks to be leaders, reformers, and guardians of national identity. Politicians rely on monastic support to legitimise their agendas. Media institutions depend on monks for content, commentary, and moral authority. Reversing this trend will require a collective effort from monks, laypeople, and political leaders alike.

Ultimately, the future of the Sangha depends on its ability to reclaim the renunciant ideal that lies at the heart of Buddhist monasticism. This does not mean withdrawing from society entirely, but it does mean reestablishing the boundaries that protect the monk from the dangers of worldly involvement. It means recognising that the true strength of the Sangha lies not in its political influence or institutional power but in its moral authority, its spiritual discipline, and its commitment to the path of liberation. The recent scandal, painful as it is, may serve as a catalyst for this reevaluation. It has exposed the vulnerabilities of the modern monastic system and forced the country to confront the consequences of a centurylong transformation.

To understand how the Vihara Devalegam Act relates to the perceived moral deformation of the clergy, it is necessary to examine how property management, state law, and monastic discipline intersect in the modern era. Historically stemming from the Buddhist Temporalities Ordinance No. 19 of 1931, this act serves as the primary legal framework governing the ‘temporalities’—meaning the secular wealth, extensive landholdings, and material donations belonging to Buddhist temples and shrines. While ancient kings granted these vast tracts of land to support the monkhood’s spiritual pursuits, the modern codification of this law has inadvertently fostered a system where property rights frequently supersede spiritual accountability.

The core of the crisis lies in the commercialisation of the monastic order that this legal framework enables. By treating temple lands as economic assets and vesting absolute administrative power in individual chief monks or lay trustees, the act has contributed to the rise of what critics term a monastic middle class. Access to vast, unregulated financial resources, rent from lands, and corporate donations has fundamentally shifted the focus of certain segments of the clergy away from the traditional path of worldly renunciation and spiritual guidance. Instead, it has driven a preoccupation with business investments, the accumulation of private capital, and luxury lifestyles, which deeply alienates a public looking to the Sangha for moral leadership.

The institutional flaws embedded in the Vihara Devalegam Act find a stark, real-world manifestation in the recent criminal case involving Venerable Pallegama Hemarathana Thero. As the chief priest of Anuradhapura and the custodian of the Atamasthana—the eight highly venerated Buddhist shrines, including the sacred Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi—Hemarathana Thero occupied one of the most powerful and wealthy positions within the Sri Lankan Sangha. His arrest on charges of sexual abuse of a minor girl perfectly illustrates how the structural defects of the Act facilitate not only moral decay but also the systemic obstruction of justice.

The core of this intersection lies in the vast, unaccountable wealth generated by the temporalities of the Anuradhapura shrines. Under the Vihara Devalegam Act, the chief custodian exercises immense, virtually unchecked control over temple revenues, state-backed land management, and millions of rupees in daily donations from millions of global pilgrims. It is precisely this immense financial liquidity that enabled the alleged deployment of vast sums of money to the victim’s family.

Furthermore, the situation underscores the profound policy failures cited regarding the helplessness of the monastic hierarchy and state enforcement. When child protection authorities initially attempted to act, the National Child Protection Authority noted severe delays and institutional resistance, stating they practically had to force the police to execute the arrest. The monk’s immediate retreat to a private hospital in Colombo upon the advancement of the criminal probe, followed by his release on bail, mirrors the exact loop described where wealthy monastics deploy high-priced legal defence teams funded directly or indirectly by their institutional positions. Because the Vihara Devalegam Act does not provide a mechanism for the immediate, unconditional forfeiture of temporal administrative rights upon a criminal indictment, the accused retains his structural power throughout the legal process. The Pallegama Thero scandal stands as definitive proof that without a fundamental overhaul of how temple wealth is legally governed and disciplined, the material benefits guaranteed by ancient temporalities will continue to shield the worst elements of moral deformation from the rule of law.

If Sri Lanka can learn from this moment and if it can recognise the structural roots of the crisis and commit to meaningful reform, then the Sangha may yet emerge stronger, more disciplined, and more faithful to its ancient ideals. But if the country continues to treat each scandal as an isolated failure and if it continues to ignore the deeper institutional problems that Seneviratne identified, then the moral deterioration we see today will only deepen. The work of kings, when performed by monks, carries a heavy price. It is time to decide whether that price is worth paying.

by Professor Amarasiri de Silva

Features

Kondachchi wind farm and battery storage project to boost energy security, says Power Ministry Secretary

Published

1 day ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

The Power and Energy Ministry’s drive towards energy security and renewable energy expansion received a major boost yesterday with the signing of a tripartite cooperation agreement for the development of the 150 MW Kondachchi Wind Power Project and an integrated Battery Energy Storage System (BESS) in Mannar.

The agreement was signed at the Ministry of Power auditorium under the patronage of Power Minister Anura Karunatilaka and Deputy Power Minister Arkam Ilyas.

Speaking at the event, Ministry Secretary G. M. R. D. Aponsu described the project as a transformative investment that would strengthen the country’s electricity network while supporting Sri Lanka’s transition towards cleaner energy sources.

“The Kondachchi Wind Power Project represents a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s renewable energy journey. By combining large-scale wind generation with advanced battery energy storage technology, we are creating a more resilient and reliable power system capable of meeting future energy demands while reducing dependence on imported fossil fuels,” Aponsu said.

The project will be developed at Silavathurai in the Kondachchi area of Mannar on lands owned by the Sri Lanka Cashew Corporation. It is expected to utilise some 31 modern wind turbines with a total installed capacity of at least 150 MW.

Aponsu said the inclusion of an integrated battery storage facility would help address the variability associated with wind power generation and ensure stable electricity supply to the national grid.

“The battery energy storage component is a key feature of this project. It will enable the efficient integration of renewable energy into the grid and enhance overall system stability, which is essential as Sri Lanka increases the share of renewables in its energy mix,” he said.

According to the Ministry, the wind farm is expected to generate nearly 525 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually, significantly reducing the country’s expenditure on imported fuel and strengthening national energy security.

The project is also expected to contribute to Sri Lanka’s climate commitments by reducing carbon dioxide emissions by an estimated 372,750 tonnes annually.

“This investment delivers both economic and environmental benefits. It will reduce greenhouse gas emissions, support sustainable development objectives and help Sri Lanka move closer to achieving its renewable energy and climate targets,” Aponsu noted.

The project will be implemented under a Public-Private Partnership (PPP) arrangement using the Build, Own and Operate (BOO) model. The Asian Development Bank is providing technical and financial advisory support through its Transaction Advisory Services programme.

The signing ceremony was attended by Pradeep Perera, Chairman of the National System Operator (Pvt) Ltd., and Takeyo Koike, Head of Market Development and Public-Private Partnership Division of the ADB, among other distinguished guests.

The Ministry said comprehensive Environmental Impact Assessments and avifaunal studies have been undertaken to ensure minimal impacts on bird populations, nearby communities and agricultural lands. A dedicated 220-kilovolt transmission system will also be constructed to connect the project to the national grid.

“The Kondachchi Wind Farm is a strategic national project that will help secure Sri Lanka’s energy future while accelerating the country’s transition towards sustainable and affordable electricity generation,” Aponsu said.

Energy sector experts view the project as one of the most important renewable energy initiatives currently being pursued in Sri Lanka, combining utility-scale wind generation with modern energy storage technology to enhance grid reliability and long-term energy sustainability.

By Ifham Nizam

Features

Saudi Arabia sets new benchmark in Hajj management as 1.7 million pilgrims complete sacred journey

Published

1 day ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

Ambassador Al-Kahtani

Interview with Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka

Saudi Arabia has once again demonstrated its unparalleled capacity to manage one of the world’s largest annual religious gatherings, with this year’s Hajj pilgrimage concluding successfully despite extreme temperatures and the immense logistical challenge of accommodating more than 1.7 million pilgrims from around the world.

In an exclusive interview with The Island, Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka, described the 2026 Hajj season as a resounding success, crediting the achievement to the visionary leadership of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister, and the coordinated efforts of multiple government agencies working around the clock to serve pilgrims.

The Ambassador noted that nearly 3,500 Sri Lankan pilgrims participated in this year’s Hajj under the quota allocated to Sri Lanka, benefiting from enhanced healthcare services, sophisticated crowd-management systems, expanded shaded areas and cutting-edge digital solutions introduced by the Kingdom.

With Saudi Arabia continuing to invest heavily in infrastructure, technology and pilgrim services under Vision 2030, Ambassador Al-Kahtani said the Kingdom remains committed to ensuring that pilgrims from around the world perform their religious duties in safety, comfort and tranquility.

The Saudi envoy also highlighted the growing partnership between Saudi Arabia and Sri Lanka, emphasising expanding cooperation not only in Hajj affairs but also in trade, investment, education, culture and institutional exchanges.

Following are excerpts of the interview:

Q: How do you assess this year’s Hajj season?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: This year’s Hajj season was a resounding success, thanks to the Almighty Allah and the integrated efforts of the government of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, led by the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister. This success was reflected in the efficiency of crowd management, the quality of services provided to the Hajj pilgrims and the effective coordination among the various relevant authorities, which enabled pilgrims to perform their rituals in an atmosphere of security, tranquility and ease.

Q: How many Sri Lankan pilgrims performed Hajj this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The number of Hajj pilgrims from the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka reached approximately 3,500, within the quota allocated to Sri Lanka for this season.

Q: Are there any discussions regarding increasing Sri Lanka’s quota in the future?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:Hajj quotas are determined according to approved regulatory mechanisms that take into account a range of considerations. The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continue to study various aspects related to developing Hajj services and accommodating the allocated numbers for all countries, in coordination with the concerned parties.

Q: What were the most prominent special arrangements implemented this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The operational plans for this season focused on enhancing the safety and comfort of the Hajj pilgrims, especially given the climatic conditions and high temperatures. Measures included expanding shaded areas, increasing water distribution points and enhancing health and ambulance services, in addition to developing the transportation system and traffic management within the holy sites.

Q: What are the most prominent digital systems and smart services that were provided?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:The Kingdom continues to implement its digital transformation objectives for the Hajj and Umrah system. The scope of electronic services offered through the Nusuk platform and application has been expanded, along with the development of digital systems for issuing permits, managing crowds, guidance and health services. This contributes to increasing the efficiency of services and improving the pilgrim’s experience at all stages of their journey.

Q: How were the challenges of overcrowding and heat addressed?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities adopted an integrated crowd-management system based on modern technologies and real-time data analysis. This was coupled with intensified health-awareness campaigns, expanded organised movement routes and increased deployment of field, medical and emergency teams. These measures support the safety of the Hajj pilgrims and reduce the risks associated with crowd density and climatic conditions.

Q: Were there special services for the elderly and sick?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Yes. The Kingdom paid special attention to the elderly and people with special health needs by providing specialized medical services, assistive transportation and facilities equipped to meet their needs, in addition to field teams working to provide humanitarian support and necessary healthcare throughout the Hajj period.

Q: How successful was the Kingdom in combating irregular Hajj permits?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continued to rigorously implement the regulations and instructions governing Hajj, utilising modern technologies and advanced monitoring procedures to reduce violations related to irregular Hajj. These efforts contributed to enhancing the safety of pilgrims, improving crowd-management efficiency and maintaining the smooth flow of movement within the holy sites.

Q: How would you describe Saudi-Sri Lankan cooperation in organising Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Cooperation between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka is characterised by continuous and constructive coordination in all matters related to Hajj. The relevant authorities in both countries work jointly to ensure the provision of the best services for Sri Lankan pilgrims and enable them to perform their rituals with ease and peace of mind.

Q: How many Hajj pilgrims were there globally, and what were the main challenges?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: According to official statistics, the number of Hajj pilgrims this year reached 1,707,301 from various countries around the world. The main challenges included managing large crowds, ensuring public safety and providing health, transportation and accommodation services within a specific geographical and temporal scope. These challenges were addressed through advanced and integrated operational plans, which contributed to the smooth and successful completion of the Hajj season.

Q: Are there any future expansion projects?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The Kingdom continues to implement strategic development projects within the framework of Vision 2030, including developing the infrastructure in Makkah and the Holy Sites, and enhancing transportation networks and smart services. This contributes to raising the quality of services provided to pilgrims and Umrah performers and improving their long-term experience.

Q: How are Saudi-Sri Lankan relations strengthened outside the context of Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Relations between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka are witnessing continuous development in many areas, including political, economic, trade, cultural and educational cooperation, in addition to developing exchanges between institutions and the private sector. This reflects the two countries’ keenness to strengthen the bilateral partnership and achieve common interests.

Q: What message would you like to convey to Sri Lankan Muslims?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: We extend our sincere congratulations to the Hajj pilgrims who have completed their Hajj rituals, and we ask Almighty Allah to accept their pilgrimage. We also assure Muslims in Sri Lanka that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia places serving the Two Holy Mosques and the guests of Almighty Allah at the forefront of its priorities and continues to develop the Hajj and Umrah system to achieve the highest standards of quality and safety.

By Ifham Nizam