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Formulating a National Policy on disability

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Disability studies in the universities

(Excerpted from Memories that linger – my journey in the world of disability by Padmani Mendis)

Prof. Chandra Gunawardene was the Dean of the Faculty of Education at the Open University of Sri Lanka, OUSL, at the turn of the century. I was recommended to her by her friend Prof. Swarna Wijetunge who had been a Professor of Education at the University of Colombo. Prof. Wijetunge was a member of the National Education Commission. She had always been sensitive to the poor quality of education available to disabled children. Prof. Gunawardene was keen to take action to uplift this through improvement in teacher education.

So she obtained the approval of the OUSL in 2004 to set up within the Open University a Department of Special Needs Education. She asked for my help to do this and had me recruited to the Faculty as a Senior Consultant. I set about getting the preliminary arrangements done. Meanwhile she also recruited to the Department of Special Needs Education two senior lecturers. She arranged for these two to proceed directly to the University of Lahore and return with their Doctoral Degrees to start academic activity in the Department. One of the first such activities was a Bachelor of Education Honours in Special Needs.

University of Colombo

The University of Colombo, since 2009 was running an “Ability Centre for Students with Disabilities”. It was helping students in a small way. Ashoka Weerawardena was running this centre.

Aloka Weerasekera had in 2012 obtained a degree from the Faculty. Aloka, as a student, had helped the Faculty and his disabled colleagues within it, to deal with the some of the problems they faced. And even after he graduated he continued to help Ashoka at the Ability Centre.

A new dean, Prof. Athula Ranasinghe, was appointed to the Faculty of Arts in 2011. He proposed that it was time that the Faculty demonstrated greater academic leadership in disability. Aloka and I were brought in to join the staff of the Department of Sociology on a planning committee to find a strategy for putting into practice this academic support for disability.

The end result of the planning committee’s deliberations was the setting up in 2014 of the Centre for Disability Research, Education and Practice popularly called CEDREP.

In the same year the US Embassy came in with a grant to finance improvements to the Ability Centre for the benefit of students. This Centre was upgraded and had its role and name changed to the “Support Centre for Students with Disabilities”. I was a frequent visitor to assist Ashoka with what I could. CEDREP called on me for advice in the early years when they needed it.

Disabled People to the Forefront

A significant outcome of CBR at the grass roots was the setting up of disability self-help groups. Fridsro helped in this in the government-supported CBR areas throughout the island. Unfortunately, government workers later made these into District Disability Organisations over which they could and did have influence. As was to be expected, the autonomy within the small self-groups was gone. Many disabled people who had been empowered through their self-help group were disillusioned and turned away.

Others, such as Nishar Sharif, persist even today, raising the issue of their rights and their inclusion within the district and province. Navajeevana encouraged the formation of self-help groups in the CBR areas they supported. These also developed into Divisional Disability Organisations. I have met some on my visits to the south. Although they are sustained with some financial support from Christoffel Blinden Mission, CBM, they maintain their autonomy and empowerment and participate in area development planning and activities.

In Sri Lanka there has not even until now been any kind of Disability Movement. In Colombo personable individuals set up organisations to publicise the needs of particular disability groups. Occasionally they would obtain sponsorship to implement interventions. Some have been led by disabled people themselves and others have not. There was debate about these at the time. Within the world of disability, it was felt that the organisation had to be managed by disabled people themselves to be recognised as a Disabled Peoples’ Organization (DPO). If it was managed by a non-disabled person or people, then it was thought of as an NGO.

S. L. Hettiarachchi

So the Sri Lanka Council for the Blind (SLCB) which was actually single-handedly run by S. L. Hettiarachchi, himself with visual impairment and totally unable to see, was considered to be an NGO. Its president, although only in a nominal role, was not disabled. Soon after I started working with the School of Social Work, I met Mr. Hettiarachchi. I used to meet him often thereafter for a chat in his office. We developed a close life-long friendship until he passed away in 2015.

With Mr. Hettiarachchi in the driving seat, the SLCB carried out many activities for young people – particularly, courses which imparted skills and knowledge scarce elsewhere such as in Mobility and Orientation and Information Technology. On a Saturday morning I would often drop in for a chat with the young people there.

What impressed me most was the Library the SLCB developed with an extensive collection of both written and audio publications made easily accessible to the many who availed of its resources. Mr. Hettiarachchi then extended the library to the thirteen Special Schools for the Blind located throughout the island and were registered with the Ministry of Education. He later sought and obtained support for this from Sight Savers International, SSI.

Three years later SSI requested me to evaluate the impact of their support to benefit children. One of the most interesting findings regarding project’s impact was the children’s increased love of reading. Many had become avid readers. Many had taken to reading a new book every two to three days. Many had shown improvement in language development, reading and writing skills, grammar, vocabulary and verbalisation. It strengthened my belief that it was the SLCB, as organisations were at the time, that had the greatest impact on disabled people.

Premadasa Dissanayake and Cyril Siriwardene

Another disabled person with whom I shared both a working relationship and friendship was Premadasa Dissanayake. Premadasa hailed from a village in Badulla in the Uva province. He came to Colombo as a wheel-chair user to seek employment. This he got at the Gangarama Temple in Colombo, first learning the skill of watch repair and then as a teacher of other young people both those who had disabilities and others who had not, to acquire the same skill.

He never forgot his roots and later, when he was able to implement field programmes, they were located around the village he came from. He impressed others with his honesty, diligence and hard work.

Premadasa was the core of the, Sri Lanka Foundation for Rehabilitation of the Disabled (SLFRD), which he established with support. Within this, he had soon set up a workshop to produce a range of appliances required by people with mobility impairments – wheelchairs, tricycles, crutches and so on. This workshop called Rehab Lanka bid for and obtained tenders for these and was a regular supplier to both the Ministry in Colombo and to Departments of Social Services in the provinces.

With funding from the Swedish Organisation of the Handicapped International Aid Foundation, he moved into community-based work. I enjoyed very much walking the villages in Badulla with his staff.

Such was the recognition Premadasa had that one of Sri Lanka’s leading garment manufacturers negotiated an agreement between Rehab Lanka and Marks and Spencer popularly known as M & S, the well-known chain of retail stores in the UK. Premadasa trained workers of the garment factory to produce the items they made for M & S. Training was done according to the technical and quality requirements as stated in the agreement between M & S and Rehab Lanka.

Working with Premadasa at Rehab Lanka was Cyril Siriwardene. Cyril had started using a wheelchair since he had met with a road traffic accident while serving in the Air Force. With his assertive but pleasant personality and skilled use of the English Language Cyril was soon recognised as a leader and disability spokesperson both by disabled people and by others.

It was Cyril, Premadasa and Mr. Hettiarachchi that established a dialogue with the Ministry of Social Welfare. This was the time that Viji Jegarasasingham (Mrs. J) had come to the Ministry as an Additional Secretary. She was open to it.

Ministry of Social Welfare

The Ministry of Social Welfare and disability groups soon had a regular conversation. An outcome of this was that in 1996 the first Disability Law was passed. This law was concerned mostly with the setting up of a National Council for Persons with Disabilities (NCPD), and with strengthening the provision of disability services within government. The NCPD was of course to be chaired by the Minister of Social Welfare.

As a positive step, the law ensured a majority participation of disabled people and their representatives in the NCPD, recognising their right to decision making in matters that affected them.

Recognising this in law but not, unfortunately, in practice. It is still the Ministry of Social Welfare that makes all decisions in the field of disability. Even in the making of a new law, a seemingly continuous process started in the year 2004 and is as yet incomplete.

I was not aware of the preparation or enactment of that law in 1996. Maybe I was too concerned with international work at that time. I served however on two consecutive National Councils, the first of which was set up as soon as the law came into effect in 1996.

My experience was that we did not really do anything to bring about changes in the lives of disabled persons and their families. Much of the monthly meetings dealt with acceding to requests by disability organisations and disabled people for financial assistance for a range of purposes from renovating buildings to organising sports events to staging concerts by disabled people.

Disability work was still very much based on charity. The disability representation at large on the National Council however appeared to be satisfied sitting with the minister every month and telling him of their woes. A vivid recollection I have of the first council is the minister, while sitting at the head of the long table, tucking in with satisfaction into a bowl of fruit salad. I must also say that to me he seemed not even to listen to what was being said.

National Policy on Disability

At the beginning of this decade there was some visible activity in the Ministry of Social Welfare as it concerned the world of disability. A newly introduced government regulation called on each ministry to develop national policies in areas it was mandated for. For our ministry this included disability.

Consulting the few disabled people she interacted with at the time, Mrs. J had appointed a renowned disabled person to make a draft national policy on disability or NPD. Repeated reviews and revisions did not result in a satisfactory document. This was apparently leading to some frustration all round. Mr. Hettiarachchi talked with me about it, and I wrote for him a brief note on how a national policy may be developed. It had to be a participatory and consultative process.

Together with his colleagues he took this to Mrs. J and they suggested she talk with me about it. The result was that she asked me whether I could do this. I said of course, but with two conditions. One was that the ministry appoints a committee to make the task participatory, and the second – you will not believe it – that she appoints me as Chairperson and let me suggest to her the 12 members that should constitute the committee. I knew my Sri Lanka and she obviously knew me.

The Minister was informed, letters of appointment were received and very soon the committee and our support staff were seated round a table at the ministry – not the one I referred to earlier and there was no bowl of fruit salad.

Our committee represented people with the most prevalent disabilities through their organisations, and those sectors that had to be most involved with disability and disabled people. We started our work with reports from them, each related to the area of their particular concern. Followed by discussion about the situations presented and very preliminary policy suggestions.

In spite of the wide representation on our committee one large gap was evident. No one really knew the situation of disabled people and their families in our country. It was my task to inform Mrs. J that we had to determine this through a socio-economic survey before we could go ahead with policy formulation. All she said was, “How much will you need?” It was then my responsibility to bring to her quotations from three sources known for their experience in conducting such tasks.

She selected one and said she would find the money required. This was Rs. 750,000 for an island-wide sample survey. Nielson Sri Lanka completed the report in three months. Together with the Rs. 400 each member was paid by the ministry as transport cost per meeting, the preparation of the NPD cost just over Rs. 900,000. Our committee took joy comparing this to what the formulation of a draft National Employment Policy cost at about the same time – Rs. 13 million. That cost was met by a foreign donor and the policy was never approved.

During the many meetings that followed, we interviewed dozens of persons, both as individuals and as groups. We had Mrs. J arrange for us interviews with secretaries of ministries, heads of institutions and UN and other agencies, DPOs and NGOs with whom we consulted on the content and formulation of the policy. In this way we benefited from the experience and insight of a countless number of people.

When we presented the National Policy on Disability that our committee had produced to the minister who was at the time Ravindra Samaraweera, he asked me why we had taken four months when he had asked for it in three. But he was pleased and soon had it approved by the Cabinet of Ministers.

Those were Sri Lanka’s good times. Now, but precious memories.

Disability Rights Bill (DRB)

The success achieved by her Ministry with the publication of the National Policy appeared to motivate Mrs. J to take this process further. So within a few months she had appointed another committee to ensure legal validity for the Policy. This time I was appointed Chairperson with no notice of it. The four other members of the committee she selected were all attorneys. One also had experienced disability, having had visual impairment from a very young age. He had his wife read out to him at home the documents that the committee had written or typed as text.

Our mandate was to see if the existing law of 1996 was adequate to implement the NPD. And if it was not, to draft a new Disability Rights Bill. Well, that was how the task was stated, but there was no doubt in anyone’s mind that a new Bill was essential. A new law was needed to ensure the fulfilment of the rights of disabled people.

Preparation for drafting this document required a completely different process. As members, we gathered together all published laws in Sri Lanka that had any relevance to our task. We also gathered together laws that had been made by other countries. Then we sat down to reference these and gather precedent information that we could be used for our draft bill. We also sought the help of many individuals to advise us on sections of the draft.

On completing a preliminary draft, we had the ministry translate it for us into Sinhala and Tamil and opened these to the general public. This preliminary draft was amended with the feedback received. The first draft Disability Rights Bill (2006) was submitted to cabinet for approval as was required at the time. Mrs. J was happy to inform us when approval was received within two weeks.

She asked us whether the committee would continue to help the ministry get the draft through the Legal Draftsman’s Department, which we did with negotiations and simple compromise. We continued to help the Ministry with the next step, which was the Attorney General’s Department.

Here we met our first obstacle. This was the attorney rather junior at the time, tasked with the review and approval of it. We never got it past her. I see that attorney is still in the department, now almost at the top. Well, sad to say, that Bill is still a draft.

Later in 2009, the whole process changed completely. This was when a new Minister came in. He had the bill redrafted by an individual whose name is unknown to this date. Politicisation was in force. Numerous revisions and drafts have been made since then, and the process is even now ongoing. My personal view is that the ministry fears that with a new bill, it will lose control over disabled people and over disability. So, no new Disability Rights Law.

Sad, sad Sri Lanka. Sad for the situation of our disabled people whose rights are yet to be recognised in Law.



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The NPP Government is more than a JVP offspring:

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Rohana Wijeweera

It is also different from all past governments as it faces new and different challenges

No one knows whether the already broken ceasefire between the US and Iran, with Israel as a reluctant adjunct, will last the full 10 days, or what will come thereafter. The world’s economic woes are not over and the markets are yo-yoing in response to Trump’s twitches and Iran’s gate keeping at the Strait of Hormuz. The gloomy expert foretelling is that full economic normalcy will not return until the year is over even if the war were to end with the ceasefire. That means continuing challenges for Sri Lanka and more of the tough learning in the art of governing for the NPP.

The NPP government has been doing what most governments in Asia have been doing to cope with the current global crisis, which is also an Asian crisis insofar as oil supplies and other supply chains are concerned. What the government can and must do additionally is to be totally candid with the people and keep them informed of everything that it is doing – from monitoring import prices to the timely arranging of supplies, all the details of tender, the tracking of arrivals, and keeping the distribution flow through the market without bottlenecks. That way the government can eliminate upstream tender rackets and downstream hoarding swindles. People do not expect miracles from their government, only honest, sincere and serious effort in difficult circumstances. Backed up by clear communication and constant public engagement.

But nothing is going to stop the flow of criticisms against the NPP government. That is a fact of Sri Lankan politics. Even though the opposition forces are weak and have little traction and even less credibility, there has not been any drought in the criticisms levelled against the still fledgling government. These criticisms can be categorized as ideological, institutional and oppositional criticisms, with each category having its own constituency and/or commentators. The three categories invariably overlap and there are instances of criticisms that excite only the pundits but have no political resonance.

April 5 anniversary nostalgia

There is also a new line of criticism that might be inspired by the April 5 anniversary nostalgia for the 1971 JVP insurrection. This new line traces the NPP government to the distant roots of the JVP – its April 1965 founding “in a working-class home in Akmeemana, Galle” by a 22-year old Rohana Wijeweera and seven others; the short lived 1971 insurrection that was easily defeated; and the much longer and more devastating second (1987 to 1989) insurrection that led to the elimination of the JVP’s frontline leaders including Wijeweera, and brought about a change in the JVP’s political direction with commitment to parliamentary democracy. So far, so good, as history goes.

But where the nostalgic narrative starts to bend is in attempting a straight line connection from the 1965 Akmeemana origins of the JVP to the national electoral victories of the NPP in 2024. And the bend gets broken in trying to bridge the gap between the “founding anti-imperialist economics” of the JVP and the practical imperatives of the NPP government in “governing a debt-laden small open economy.” Yet this line of criticism differs from the other lines of criticism that I have alluded to, but more so for its moral purpose than for its analytical clarity. The search for clarity could begin with question – why is the NPP government more than a JVP offspring? The answer is not so simple, but it is also not too complicated.

For starters, the JVP was a political response to the national and global conditions of the 1960s and 1970s, piggybacking socialism on the bandwagon of ethno-nationalism in a bi-polar world that was ideologically split between status quo capitalism and the alternative of socialism. The NPP government, on the other hand, is not only a response to, but is also a product of the conditions of the 2010s and 2020s. The twain cannot be more different. Nothing is the same between then and now, locally and globally.

A pragmatic way to look at the differences between the origins of the JVP and the circumstances of the NPP government is to look at the very range of criticisms that are levelled against the NPP government. What I categorize as ideological criticisms include criticisms of the government’s pro-IMF and allegedly neo-liberal economic policies, as well as the government’s foreign policy stances – on Israel, on the current US-Israel war against Iran, the geopolitics of the Indian Ocean, and the apparent closeness to the Modi government in India. These criticisms emanate from the non-JVP left and Sinhala Buddhist nationalists.

Strands of nationalism

To digress briefly, there are several strands in the overall bundle of Sri Lankan nationalism. There is the liberal inclusive strand, the left-progressive strand, the exclusive Sinhala Buddhist Nationalist (SBN) strand, and the defensive strands of minority nationalisms. Given Sri Lanka’s historical political formations and alliances, much overlapping goes on between the different strands. The overlapping gets selective on an issue by issue basis, which in itself is not unwelcome insofar as it promotes plurality in place of exclusivity.

Historically as well, and certainly after 1956, the SBN strand has been the dominant strand of nationalism in Sri Lanka and has had the most influential say in every government until now. Past versions of the JVP frequently straddled the dominant SBN space. Currently, however, the dominant SBN strand is in one of its more dormant phases and the NPP government could be a reason for the current dormancy. This is an obvious difference between the old JVP and the new NPP.

A second set of criticisms, or institutional criticisms, emanate from political liberals and human rights activists and these are about the NPP government’s actions or non-actions in regard to constitutional changes, the future of the elected executive presidency, the status of provincial devolution and the timing of provincial council elections, progress on human rights issues, the resolution of unfinished postwar businesses including the amnesia over mass graves. These criticisms and the issues they represent are also in varying ways the primary concerns of the island’s Tamils, Muslims and the Malaiyaka (planntationn) Tamils. As with the overlapping between the left and the non-minority nationalists, there is also overlapping between the liberal activists and minority representatives.

A third category includes what might be called oppositional criticisms and they counterpose the JVP’s past against the NPP’s present, call into question the JVP’s commitment to multi-party democracy and raise alarms about a creeping constitutional dictatorship. This category also includes criticisms of the NPP government’s lack of governmental experience and competence; alleged instances of abuse of power, mismanagement and even corruption; alleged harassment of past politicians; and the failure to find the alleged mastermind behind the 2019 Easter bombings. At a policy and implementational level, there have been criticisms of the government’s educational reforms and electricity reforms, the responses to cyclone Ditwah, and the current global oil and economic crises. The purveyors of oppositional criticisms are drawn from the general political class which includes political parties, current and past parliamentarians, as well as media pundits.

Criticisms as expectations

What is common to all three categories of criticisms is that they collectively represent what were understood to be promises by the NPP before the elections, and have become expectations of the NPP government after the elections. It is the range and nature of these criticisms and the corresponding expectations that make the NPP government a lot more than a mere JVP offspring, and significantly differentiate it from every previous government.

The deliverables that are expected of the NPP government were never a part of the vocabulary of the original JVP platform and programs. The very mode of parliamentary politics was ideologically anathema to the JVP of Akmeemana. And there was no mention of or concern for minority rights, or constitutional reforms. On foreign policy, it was all India phobia without Anglo mania – a halfway variation of Sri Lanka’s mainstream foreign policy of Anglo mania and India phobia. For a party of the rural proletariat, the JVP was virulently opposed to the plantation proletariat. The JVP’s version of anti-imperialist economics would hardly have excited the Sri Lankan electorate at any time, and certainly not at the present time.

At the same time, the NPP government is also the only government that has genealogical antecedents to a political movement or organization like the JVP. That in itself makes the NPP government unique among Sri Lanka’s other governments. The formation of the NPP is the culmination of the evolution of the JVP that began after the second insurrection with the shedding of political violence, acceptance of political plurality and commitment to electoral democracy.

But the evolution was not entirely a process of internal transformation. It was also a response to a rapidly and radically changing circumstances both within Sri Lanka and beyond. This evolution has not been a rejection of the founding socialist purposes of the JVP in 1968, but their adaptation in the endless political search, under constantly changing conditions, for a non-violent, socialist and democratic framework that would facilitate the full development of the human potential of all Sri Lankans.

The burden of expectations is unmistakable, but what is also remarkable is their comprehensiveness and the NPP’s formal commitment to all of them at the same time. No previous government shouldered such an extensive burden or showed such a willing commitment to each and every one of the expectations. In the brewing global economic crisis, the criticisms, expectations and the priorities of the government will invariably be focussed on keeping the economy alive and alleviating the day-to-day difficulties of millions of Sri Lankan families. While what the NPP government can and must do may not differ much from what other Asian governments – from Pakistan to Vietnam – are doing, it could and should do better than what any and all past Sri Lankan governments did when facing economic challenges.

by Rajan Philips

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A Fragile Ceasefire: Pakistan’s Glory and Israel’s Sabotage

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Smokes over Beirut: Israel’s Ceasefire Attack on Hezbollah in Lebanon

After threatening to annihilate one of the planet’s oldest civilizations, TACO* Trump chickened out again by grasping the ceasefire lifeline that Pakistan had assiduously prepared. Trump needed the ceasefire badly to stem the mounting opposition to the war in America. Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu wanted the war to continue because he needed it badly for his political survival. So, he contrived a fiction and convinced Trump that Lebanon is not included in the ceasefire. Trump as usual may not have noticed that Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Shariff had clearly indicated Lebanon’s inclusion in his announcement of the ceasefire at 7:50 PM, Tuesday, on X. Ten minutes before Donald Trump’s fake deadline.

True to form on Wednesday, Israel unleashed the heaviest assault by far on Lebanon, reportedly killing over 300 people, the highest single-day death toll in the current war. Iran responded by re-closing the Strait of Hormuz and questioning the need for talks in Islamabad over the weekend. There were other incidents as well, with an oil refinery attacked in Iran, and Iranian drones and missiles slamming oil and gas infrastructure in UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Qatar.

The US tried to insist that Lebanon is not part of the ceasefire, with the argumentative US Vice President JD Vance, who was in Budapest, Hungary, campaigning for Viktor Orban, calling the whole thing a matter of “bad faith negotiation” as well as “legitimate misunderstanding” on the part of Iran, and warning Iran that “it would be dumb to jeopardise its ceasefire with Washington over Israel’s attacks in Lebanon.”

But as the attack in Lebanon drew international condemnation – from Pope Leo to UN Secretary General António Guterres, and several world leaders, and amidst fears of Lebanon becoming another Gaza with 1,500 people including 130 children killed and more than a million people displaced, Washington got Israel to stop its “lawn mowing” in southern Lebanon.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu agreed to “open direct negotiations with Lebanon as soon as possible,”. Lebanese President Joeseph Aoun has also called for “a ceasefire between Israel and Lebanon, followed by direct negotiations between them.” Israel’s involvement in Lebanon remains a wild card that threatens the ceasefire and could scuttle the talks between the US and Iran scheduled for Saturday in Islamabad.

Losers and Winners

After the ceasefire, both the Trump Administration and Iran have claimed total victories while the Israeli government wants the war to continue. The truth is that after more than a month into nonstop bombing of Iran, America and Israel have won nothing. Only Iran has won something it did not have when Trump and Netanyahu started their war. Iran now has not only a say over but control of the Strait of Hormuz. The ceasefire acknowledges this. Both Trump and Netanyahu are under fire in their respective countries and have no allies in the world except one another.

The real diplomatic winner is Pakistan. Salman Rushdie’s palimpsest-country has emerged as a key player in global politics and an influential mediator in a volatile region. Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Chief of Defence Field Marshal Asim Munir have both been praised by President Trump and credited for achieving the current ceasefire. The Iranian regime has also been effusive in its praise of Pakistan’s efforts.

It is Pakistan that persisted with the effort after initial attempts at backdoor diplomacy by Egypt, Pakistan and Türkiye started floundering. Sharing a 900 km border and deep cultural history with Iran, and having a skirmish of its own on the eastern front with Afghanistan, Pakistan has all the reason to contain and potentially resolve the current conflict in Iran. Although a majority Sunni Muslim country, Pakistan is home to the second largest Shia Muslim population after Iran, and is the easterly terminus of the Shia Arc that stretches from Lebanon. The country also has a mutual defense pact with Saudi Arabia that includes Pakistan’s nuclear cover for the Kingdom. An open conflict between Iran and Saudi Arabia would have put Pakistan in a dangerously awkward position.

It is now known and Trump has acknowledged that China had a hand in helping Iran get to the diplomatic table. Pakistan used its connections well to get Chinese diplomatic reinforcement. Pakistani Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar flew to Beijing to brief his Chinese counterpart and secured China’s public support for the diplomatic efforts. The visit produced a Five-Point Plan that became a sequel to America’s 15-point proposal and the eventual ten-point offer by Iran.

There is no consensus between parties as to which points are where and who is agreeing to what. The chaos is par for the course the way Donald Trumps conducts global affairs. So, all kudos to Pakistan for quietly persisting with old school toing and froing and producing a semblance of an agreement on a tweet without a parchment.

It is also noteworthy that Israel has been excluded from all the diplomatic efforts so far. And it is remarkable, but should not be surprising, the way Trump has sidelined Isreal from the talks. Prime Minister Netanyahu has been enjoying overwhelming support of Israelis for starting the war of his life against Iran and getting the US to spearhead it. But now the country is getting confused and is exposed to Iranian missiles and drones far more than ever before. The Israeli opposition is finally coming alive realizing what little has Netanyahu’s wars have achieved and at what cost. Israel has alienated a majority of Americans and has no ally anywhere else.

It will be a busy Saturday in Islamabad, where the US and Iranian delegations are set to meet. Iran would seem to have insisted and secured the assurance that the US delegation will be led by Vice President Vance, while including Trump’s personal diplomats – Steve Witkoff and son-in-law Jared Kushner. Iran has not announced its team but it is expected to be led, for protocol parity, by Iran’s Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, and will likely include its suave Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi. Vice President Vance’s attendance will be the most senior US engagement with Iran since Secretary of State John Kerry negotiated the 2015 nuclear deal under President Obama.

The physical arrangements for the talks are still not public although Islamabad has been turned into a security fortress given the stakes and risks involved. The talks are expected to be ‘indirect’, with the two delegations in separate rooms and Pakistani officials shuttling between them. The status of Iran’s enriched uranium and the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz will be the major points of contention. After Netanyahu’s overreach on Wednesday, Lebanon is also on the short list

The 2015 nuclear deal (the Joint Comprehensive Action Plan) took months of negotiations and involved multiple parties besides the US and Iran, including China, France, Germany, UK, Russia and the EU. That served the cause of regional and world peace well until Trump tore up the deal to spite Obama. It would be too much to expect anything similar after a weekend encounter in Islamabad. But if the talks could lead to at least a permanent ceasefire and the return to diplomacy that would be a huge achievement.

(*As of 2025–2026, Donald Trump is nicknamed “TACO Trump” by Wall Street traders and investors as an acronym for “”. This term highlights a perceived pattern of him making strong tariff threats that cause market panic, only to later retreat or weaken them, causing a rebound.)

by Rajan Philips

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CIA’s hidden weapon in Iran

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We are passing through the ten-day interregnum called a ceasefire over the War on Iran. The world may breathe briefly, but this pause is not reassurance—it is a deliberate interlude, a vacuum in which every actor positions for the next escalation. Iran is far from secure. Behind the veneer of calm, external powers and local forces are preparing, arming, and coordinating. The United States is unlikely to deploy conventional ground troops; the next moves will be executed through proxies whose behaviour will defy expectation. These insurgents are shaped, guided, and amplified by intelligence and technology, capable of moving silently, striking precisely, and vanishing before retaliation. The ceasefire is not peace—it is the prelude to disruption.

The Kurds, historically instruments of Tehran against Baghdad, are now vectors for the next insurgency inside Iran. This movement is neither organic nor local. It is externally orchestrated, with the CIA as the principal architect. History provides the blueprint: under Mohammad-Reza Shah Pahlavi, Kurdish uprisings were manipulated, never supported out of sympathy. They were instruments of leverage against Iraq, a way to weaken a rival while projecting influence beyond Iran’s borders. Colonel Isa Pejman, Iranian military intelligence officer who played a role in Kurdish affairs, recalled proposing support for a military insurgency in Iraq, only for the Shah to respond coldly: “[Mustafa] Barzani killed my Army soldiers… please forget it. The zeitgeist and regional context have been completely transformed.” The Kurds were pawns, but pawns with strategic weight. Pejman later noted: “When the Shah wrote on the back of the letter ‘Accepted’ to General Pakravan, I felt I was the true leader of the Kurdish movement.” The seeds planted then are now being activated under new, technologically empowered auspices.

Iran’s geographic vulnerabilities make this possible. The Shah understood the trap: a vast territory with porous borders, squeezed by Soviet pressure from the north and radical Arab states from the west. “We are in a really terrible situation since Moscow’s twin pincers coming down through Kabul and Baghdad surround us,” he warned Asadollah Alam. From Soviet support for the Mahabad Republic to Barzani’s dream of a unified Kurdistan, Tehran knew an autonomous Kurdish bloc could destabilize both Iraq and Iran. “Since the formation of the Soviet-backed Mahabad Republic, the Shah had been considerably worried about the Kurdish threat,” a US assessment concluded.

Today, the Kurds’ significance is operational, not symbolic. The CIA’s recent rescue of a downed F-15 airman using Ghost Murmur, a quantum magnetometry system, demonstrated the reach of technology in intelligence operations. The airman survived two days on Iranian soil before extraction. This was not a simple rescue; it was proof that highly mobile, technologically augmented operations can penetrate Iranian territory with surgical precision. The same logic applies to insurgency preparation: when individuals can be tracked through electromagnetic signatures, AI-enhanced surveillance, and drones, proxy forces can be armed, guided, and coordinated with unprecedented efficiency. The Kurds are no longer pawns—they are a living network capable of fracturing Iranian cohesion while providing deniability to foreign powers.

Iran’s engagement with Iraqi Kurds was always containment, not empowerment. The Shah’s goal was never Kurdish independence. “We do not approve an independent [Iraqi] Kurdistan,” he stated explicitly. Yet their utility as instruments of regional strategy was undeniable. The CIA’s revival of these networks continues a long-standing pattern: insurgent groups integrated into the wider calculus of international power. Israel, Iran, and the Kurds formed a triangular strategic relationship that terrified Baghdad. “For Baghdad, an Iranian-Israeli-Kurdish triangular alliance was an existential threat,” contemporary reports noted. This is the template for modern manipulation: a networked insurgency, externally supported, capable of destabilizing regimes from within while giving foreign powers plausible deniability.

Iran today faces fragility. Years of sanctions, repression, and targeted strikes have weakened educational and scientific hubs; Sharif University in Tehran, one of the country’s leading scientific centres, was bombed. Leaders, scholars, and innovators have been eliminated. Military readiness is compromised. Generations-long setbacks leave Iran exposed. Against this backdrop, a Kurdish insurgency armed with drones, AI-supported surveillance, and precision munitions could do more than disrupt—it could fracture the state internally. The current ten-day ceasefire is a mirage; the next wave of revolt is already being orchestrated.

CIA involvement is deliberate. Operations are coordinated with allied intelligence agencies, leveraging Kurdish grievances, mobility, and ethnolinguistic networks. The Kurds’ spread across Iran, Iraq, Turkey, and Syria provides operational depth—allowing insurgents to strike, vanish, and regroup with impunity. Barzani understood leverage decades ago: “We could be useful to the United States… Look at our strategic location on the flank of any possible Soviet advance into the Middle East.” Today, the calculation is inverted: Kurds are no longer instruments against Baghdad; they are potential disruptors inside Tehran itself.

Technology is central. Ghost Murmur’s ability to detect a single heartbeat remotely exemplifies how intelligence can underpin insurgent networks. Drones, satellite communications, AI predictive modeling, and battlefield sensors create an infrastructure that can transform a dispersed Kurdish insurgency into a high-precision operation. Iran can no longer rely on fortifications or loyalty alone; the external environment has been recalibrated by technology.

History provides the roadmap. The Shah’s betrayal of Barzani after the 1975 Algiers Agreement demonstrated that external actors can manipulate both Iranian ambitions and Kurdish loyalties. “The Shah sold out the Kurds,” Yitzhak Rabin told Kissinger. “We could not station our troops there and keep fighting forever,” the Shah explained to Alam. The Kurds are a pivot, not a cause. Networks once acting under Tehran’s influence are now being repurposed against it.

The insurgency exploits societal fissures. Kurdish discontent in Iran, suppressed for decades, provides fertile ground. Historical betrayal fuels modern narratives: “Barzani claimed that ‘Isa Pejman sold us out to the Shah and the Shah sold us out to the US.’” Intelligence agencies weaponize these grievances, pairing them with training, technological augmentation, and covert support.

Geopolitically, the stakes are immense. The Shah’s defensive-offensive doctrine projected Iranian influence outward to neutralize threats. Today, the logic is inverted: the same networks used to contain Iraq are being readied to contain Iran. A technologically augmented Kurdish insurgency, covertly backed, could achieve in months what decades of sanctions, diplomacy, or repression have failed to accomplish.

The operation will be asymmetric, high-tech, and dispersed. UAVs, quantum-enhanced surveillance, encrypted communications, and AI-directed logistics will dominate. Conventional Iranian forces are vulnerable to this type of warfare. As Pejman reflected decades ago, “Our Army was fighting there, rather than the Kurds who were harshly defeated… How could we keep such a place?” Today, the challenge is magnified by intelligence superiority on the insurgents’ side.

This is not a temporary flare-up. The CIA and its allies are constructing a generational network of influence. Experience from Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon proves these networks endure once operationalised. The Shah recognized this: “Iran’s non-state foreign policy under the Shah’s reign left a lasting legacy for the post-Revolution era.” Today, those instruments are being remade as vectors of foreign influence inside Iran.

The future is stark. Iran faces not simply external threats, but a carefully engineered insurgency exploiting historical grievances, technological superiority, and precise intelligence. The Kurds are central. History, technology, and geopolitical calculation converge to create a transformative threat. Tehran’s miscalculations, betrayals, and suppressed grievances now form the lattice for this insurgency. The Kurds are positioned not just as an ethnic minority, but as a vector of international strategy—Tehran may be powerless to stop it.

Iran’s containment strategies have been weaponized, fused with technology, and inverted against it. The ghosts of Barzani’s Peshmerga, the shadows of Algiers, and the Shah’s strategic vision now converge with Ghost Murmur, drones, and AI. Tehran faces a paradox: the instruments it once controlled are now calibrated to undermine its authority. The next Kurdish revolt will not only fight in the mountains but in the electromagnetic shadows where intelligence operates, consequences are lethal, and visibility is scarce.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa

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