Features
Going abroad with Prime Minister Premadasa: his genius to always maximize possibilities
How he got a place at the high table and rode in state with President Marcos through Manila
Premadasa liked to travel abroad and during his period of 11 years as prime minister, visited many countries. The term ‘prime minister of Sri Lanka’ gave him instant recognition and a status far above what he enjoyed customarily at home since J R was both head of state and head of government.
Constitutionally, he was nothing more than another minister. But abroad, except for the most scrupulous of protocol officers who knew Sri Lanka had an executive president, he was to all intents and purposes the head of government of his country. Our unstated policy was ‘if they don’t ask, don’t trouble to tell them’.
On a visit to the Philippines in 1981 he used a clever stratagem to win a seat for himself at the high table at the international conference convened for ministers of housing. As prime minister he was invited, and stayed at the Malacanang Palace in Manila, within the presidential complex buildings. President Marcos was to open the conference, and Imelda, who was then the Governor of Greater Manila was to receive him at the entrance to the Convention Hall.
Premadasa contrived to pay his courtesy call on Marcos at the Presidential Palace just before the time fixed for the formal opening of the Conference in down-town Manila, and managed to persuade Marcos to allow him to ride to the Convention Center with him in the presidential car. This gained him an unexpected and completely impromptu state drive into the city. It was marvelous to see the aplomb with which he acknowledged the cheers of the crowds who thronged the road to see Marcos with his new and unknown friend by his side.
The two of them, Marcos and Premadasa, marched up to the stage but there was no chair there for Premadasa since his assigned place was with the other ministers of housing in the front rows of the hall. After a hurried consultation on stage, another chair was produced, some shuffling around and space made, and all ended well. Premadasa finally got to make his speech first, from the stage and not from the podium as the other ministers of housing had to do.
I got the distinct impression that General Carlos Romulo, the famous war hero who was Marcos’ foreign minister and mastermind of the opening ceremony – peeved at what was happening – was not too pleased. But Premadasa had stolen the show and received a loud cheer from the small group of Sri Lankan expatriates present in the hall.
But in spite of all the adulation and honour he usually received there were some negatives for him in visits abroad. The basic problem was that it upset his carefully planned daily schedule and his avid preference for Sri Lankan cooking, above all the gourmet dishes and gastronomic delights the host would serve.
His tastes in local cookery revolved essentially around well-boiled red rice, vegetarian dishes with the simple kola mallun as an absolute necessity. So, our ambassadors abroad were to be frequently seen bringing in to the London Hilton, the Waldorf Astoria in New York or wherever he bedded-down for the night, string-hoppers with assorted sambols and other Sri Lankan delicacies in the early hours of the morning in food-warmers. They apparently did not mind it at all as it gave them credits which they could, and did later, cash-in to their benefit. Premadasa also disliked the cold, not only of winter which forced him to encumber his body with layers of socks, scarves, thermal underwear and overcoats, and even the chill of a June morning in London. On his visits to Europe and Canada, especially, he often commiserated with the Sri Lankan diplomatic staff who endured stoically, in his view, the generally miserable weather and could not comprehend their eagerness to seek foreign postings.
Mrs Premadasa, whom he would call Hemawathie – her full name and not the shortened Hema – which most others did, was a great support to him on these visits. She enjoyed making new friends and did not mind at all indulging in the small talk, which is an essential part of diplomatic conviviality. The host country leaders found her inherent charm and good looks appealing and she helped the receptions and dinner meetings go with a swing.
The only part of her which was a problem on foreign visits was her invariable inability to keep to time. This was mostly because of the inevitable last-minute shopping. There was a great deal of good-natured ribbing between husband and wife on this score but once or twice the delay would be serious and Premadasa would be fuming.
On these occasions he would turn to me for help and plead in Sinhala, “Bradman, please ask her to hurry up”, as he walked up and down the hotel lobby, ready for departure with the motorcade revving up.
Needless to say, I was not always successful in getting her down in the next few minutes. I found that she, like Mrs Bandaranaike before her, found the European habit of kissing the back of a lady’s hand when saying welcome or goodbye not very nice, to say the least.
Premadasa too on his day and in his element was a lively conversationalist. He had a fund of anecdotes illustrating some particular quirk in the human personality. He related these with an eye for detail and imagery which was riveting but the joke was usually on someone else. Balasuriya, his private secretary, and Evans Cooray, his press secretary, were often the butt-end of his stories for the crazy situations they sometimes got themselves into.
Between the two of them, Premadasa and Hema on their visits abroad made a host of Sri Lankan friends which led to many exciting projects – to image-building for Sri Lanka abroad and to the building up of a reservoir of expatriate funding for local social projects. One of the most innovative of these was the Sevana Foster Parents Scheme in which a small regular donation from an expatriate could be used to benefit the life of a poor child in Sri Lanka.
President Jayewardene used Premadasa liberally for foreign missions. He became a familiar figure at CHOGM (Commonwealth Heads of Government Meetings). His contributions were listened to with attention and the observations he offered at Lusaka received appreciative notes from both the hosts, Chairman Kenneth Kaunda and Sridath Ramphal.
It was very encouraging and I was happy to have been part of it. The particular item for which Premadasa was lead-speaker was ‘community participation in development’, and with the first-hand local experience we had, we made a good job of it. He received a personal letter from President Kenneth Kaunda acknowledging his contribution.
At this meeting in Lusaka the future of Southern Rhodesia (Zimbabwe) was the controversial issue. Premadasa entered into the spirit of the discussions with gusto and made some useful contacts. But as usual his primary purpose was to win something for Sri Lanka. He set his sights on clinching the British ODA grant from Britain for the Victoria Project.
Premadasa had always had an unreserved admiration for Margaret Thatcher. He respected her directness and the strength of her leadership. She had fought a hard battle to come up to where she was from her often referred to ‘grocer’s daughter’ background. He empathized with people who had got to the top by means of hard work and merit, not birth. Their acquaintance had begun in October 1975 at Blackpool in England at the Annual Conservative Party Conference when Margaret Thatcher was leader of the opposition.
In 1978, soon after forming his government, President Jayewardene had approached the Labour Government in Britain for funding of the Victoria Dam, one of the five projects of the Mahaweli scheme. The preliminary approvals had been given, but soon thereafter Harold Wilson’s Labour Government fell. The Conservative Government of Mrs Thatcher, facing an economic crunch, were not looking at Overseas Development Aid that favourably.
It was then that Premadasa decided to put on the pressure. On the way to CHOGM, he first stopped in London, seeking the customary courtesy call on the prime minister (which was in his case invariably granted). He met Mrs Thatcher and Lord Carrington at her No 10 office and pleaded the case for Victoria. Thatcher was impressed with the way he put forward the case. But try as he might, he could not get a commitment from her in London.
Premadasa knew he was going to have a further chance of meeting Margaret Thatcher in Lusaka. Thatcher was under extreme pressure at CHOGM and the frontline states, Zambia, Tanzania and Kenya, in particular, were cornering her for quickening the pace of Zimbabwe’s independence. Premadasa worked behind the scenes and at the conference table to work for a compromise acceptable to Britain.
He moved closely with Julius Nyerere of Tanzania. The seating order around the table helped since the alphabetical order put Sri Lanka and Tanzania together. Mrs Thatcher was mindful of the support Sri Lanka gave during the meeting.
Each delegation had been provided with a comfortable villa in the Mulungushi enclave, specially prepared for the CHOGM delegates. There was a good deal of inter-villa entertainment and Premadasa invited Mrs Thatcher to have lunch with him, along with a few others on the third day of the conference. Although she was indisposed that day, Mrs Thatcher came for the lunch. On leaving, she handed Premadasa a little card – the size of a post card – on which were typed these words :
Sri Lanka I am glad to be able to tell you that we are now in a position to offer a UK contribution to the Victoria Dam Scheme. This would he in the form of a grant of up to 100 million over six years towards the costs of the design and construction of the dam and power station. It would, of course, be subject to normal UK grant conditions.
Margaret Thatcher
Lusaka 6th Aug 1979
Premadasa’s persistence had paid off. But he was not fully satisfied. There was one more nail to be struck to make the picture perfect. The card had not been signed. Anyone else would have been happy to go home with 100 million pounds. But as usual Premadasa wanted it not only in writing but signed, sealed and delivered as well.
Before the afternoon sessions commenced, he directed me to go around to the UK delegation side of the table and get Mrs Thatcher’s signature on the note. It was with some embarrassment that I pushed through the officials to Mrs Thatcher’s side. But she was all typically British courtesy. “Of course,” she said, pulling out her pen from her handbag, “how forgetful of me!”
(Excerpted from Rendering unto Caesar, Autobiography of Bradman Weerakoon)
Features
Regime change and the vacuum:Strategic lessons of Iraq and Libya
by Col. (R) Nalin Herath
There is a question that the international community must periodically ask itself: What happens to a State after its regime has been ousted?
The question is particularly relevant when examining Iraq and Libya. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were authoritarian rulers. Their governments were associated with political repression, human-rights violations and the suppression of political opposition. None of this should be ignored or excused. But recognising the failures of authoritarian rule does not prevent us from asking another, equally important strategic question:
Did the removal of these regimes adequately prepare for what came next?
The experience of Iraq and Libya suggests that removing a ruler is considerably easier than replacing the political, administrative and security architecture around that ruler.
Danger of confusing regime change with State reconstruction
A state is more than its leader. It consists of institutions, security forces, civil servants, courts, political structures, infrastructure, economic systems and, perhaps most importantly, an accepted monopoly over the legitimate use of force. When an authoritarian system has concentrated enormous power around one individual, removing that individual can expose weaknesses that were previously hidden. The strategic mistake is to assume that once the dictator has gone, a democratic and stable state will naturally emerge. History does not support such an assumption. The aftermath of Iraq demonstrates this particularly clearly. Following the 2003 invasion, the Coalition Provisional Authority issued Order No. 2, formally dissolving the Iraqi Ministry of Defence and the Iraqi Army, among other security institutions. A US congressional report later documented the enormous consequences of this decision, including the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of military personnel from the institutional framework of the state. Whatever the intentions behind the decision, the strategic consequence was that an established security structure had to be rebuilt while the country was simultaneously experiencing political upheaval and growing violence. That is a dangerous combination.
Iraq: Removing the structure before building the replacement
Saddam Hussein’s government was unquestionably authoritarian. It also reflected a complicated sectarian and political structure in which members of the Sunni minority occupied disproportionate positions of power despite being a demographic minority. But the question for strategic planners should not simply be whether Saddam deserved to remain in power. The question should have been:
What institutional structure would replace the system once he was removed?
An army can be politically controlled without being politically representative. A bureaucracy can serve an authoritarian government while still providing essential state functions. A security institution can be reformed without necessarily being destroyed. The distinction between reforming institutions and eliminating institutions is therefore critical. The post-2003 experience demonstrated the consequences of institutional disruption. Security vacuums contributed to insurgency and instability, while the process of rebuilding Iraq’s security forces took place amid an increasingly deteriorating security environment. The lesson is not that authoritarian institutions should never be reformed. The lesson is that state capacity should not be casually destroyed without a credible replacement.
Libya: prosperity, authoritarianism and institutional fragility
Libya presents an even more complicated case. Gaddafi’s government was authoritarian and deeply personalised. Political freedom was severely restricted, and the security apparatus was deliberately structured around regime survival. Yet Libya, under Gaddafi, also used substantial oil revenues to fund education, healthcare, infrastructure and social services. World Bank data from around the end of the Gaddafi era show life expectancy reaching approximately 75 years by 2011, skilled attendance at birth at 100 percent and measles immunisation at 98 percent. This does not prove that Gaddafi’s system was politically legitimate. It demonstrates something different: economic and social outcomes can coexist with authoritarian political structures.
The Great Man-Made River illustrates the scale of Libya’s investment ambitions. The World Bank described the project as one of the world’s largest engineering schemes, involving thousands of kilometres of planned pipelines to transport water from deep desert aquifers toward the populated coastal belt. The original project was estimated at approximately US$ 25 billion over several phases. Again, this should not become nostalgia for dictatorship. It should become a lesson in state capacity.
What happened after Gaddafi?
The post-2011 experience is perhaps the clearest illustration of the vacuum problem. Libya did not simply move from dictatorship to a consolidated democratic state. Instead, competing armed groups, political factions and institutions emerged. A UN economic and social affairs analysis concluded that the fall of the Gaddafi regime exposed weak state institutions and that the post-Gaddafi period was characterised by the proliferation of armed militias and institutional fragmentation.
The World Bank has similarly described how the security vacuum allowed armed groups to expand, while attempts to integrate them into the formal security apparatus produced a hybrid system in which state institutions and powerful armed groups operated alongside one another. This is the heart of the lesson. The consequences of regime change were also evident in Libya. The 2012 Benghazi attack, later portrayed in 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, illustrated the security vacuum that emerged after Gaddafi’s fall. The collapse of central authority allowed militias and competing armed groups to fill the space left by weakened state institutions. The lesson is clear: removing a regime may achieve military victory, but without a credible plan to rebuild the state, victory can quickly become a security vacuum.
When the state withdraws, something else occupies the space. If the replacement is not a legitimate national institution, the vacuum can be filled by militias, tribes, ideological movements, criminal networks or competing political authorities. The vacuum does not remain empty.
Terrorism question
There is another uncomfortable issue. Authoritarian regimes frequently suppress political and armed movements through coercive security systems. When those systems disappear abruptly, previously contained organisations can find new operating space. This does not mean that dictatorship is an appropriate method of counterterrorism. It means that counterterrorism cannot be separated from State capacity. The international community therefore needs to distinguish between defeating a particular terrorist organisation and maintaining the institutional conditions that prevent multiple armed actors from competing for power. The destruction of one regime does not automatically eliminate the forces that created insecurity. Sometimes it creates an environment in which those forces multiply.
Strategic mistake: winning the war but losing the peace
Military intervention can have a clearly defined operational objective. State reconstruction does not. A military campaign may successfully remove a government in weeks or months. Building legitimate institutions can take decades.This creates a fundamental strategic asymmetry. The shorter the planning horizon for intervention, the greater the danger of a long-term vacuum. The international community therefore needs to think beyond the first question: How do we remove the regime?
It must ask: Who governs the country the next morning? Who controls the borders? Who controls the security forces? Who pays government employees? Who maintains electricity, water and hospitals? Who protects critical infrastructure? Who administers justice? Who prevents armed groups from becoming alternative governments? Who provides political legitimacy? And perhaps most importantly: Who possesses the authority to enforce the decisions of the new state? If there are no convincing answers, regime change is only the beginning of the problem.
The lesson should not be that the United States or its allies should never intervene. Nor should it be that Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi should be rehabilitated as models of governance. The lesson is more practical. Regime change must never be confused with state-building.
Before dismantling an established political order, external powers need a credible understanding of the institutions that will replace it. Security-sector reform should normally distinguish between individuals who must be removed and institutions that must be preserved. A national army may need reform. A ministry may need restructuring. A security service may need accountability and civilian oversight. But destroying institutional capacity without having an operational replacement can create consequences far beyond the original objective.
Wider geopolitical lesson
The consequences of Iraq and Libya did not remain within their borders. State fragmentation affects neighbouring countries, migration, organised crime, arms trafficking, terrorism, energy markets and regional power competition. In today’s interconnected world, a failed transition in one country can become a security problem for an entire region. That is why intervention planning should include not only military objectives but also political, economic, humanitarian and security-sector objectives. The most important planning document may therefore not be the operational plan for removing the regime. It may be the plan for Day One after the regime has disappeared.
History should not be written as a simple choice between dictatorship and democracy. The real strategic challenge is more complicated. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were dictators. Their governments committed serious abuses, and their populations had legitimate grievances. But the failures of authoritarian rule do not automatically justify the destruction of state institutions without a credible plan for rebuilding them. The experience of Iraq and Libya demonstrates a fundamental principle of international security: A political vacuum is not neutral space. Someone will fill it. If legitimate national institutions cannot fill that space, armed groups, sectarian interests, extremist organisations or foreign-backed factions may do so. The ultimate lesson for the United States, its allies and the wider international community is therefore straightforward:
Removing a regime may win the immediate battle. Building a legitimate, functioning and secure state determines whether the intervention succeeds in the long term. The world should learn to ask not only “How do we remove the dictator?”. It must also ask:
“What happens to the country when he is gone?”
That may be the most important strategic question of all.
(The writer is the Secretary General of the Ceylon Chamber of Shipping, former Director General of the Institute of National Security Studies (INSS), and former Spokesman of the Ministry of Defence. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow at the London Dialogue. His areas of expertise include international relations, geopolitics, maritime affairs, national security, economic policy, and strategic governance. He is a consultant at JITT Group and a member of World Pace Board.).
Features
‘Death at the Sign of the Rook’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 23
By Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha
As I have noted with regard to the adventures of John Rebus, I am indebted to Dinali Fernando and her husband Steve for whole hosts of thrillers. The latter strongly recommended Kate Atkinson when I borrowed four books. I wondered about this, for I had not been too impressed with her debut novel, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which was amongst the entries I had to judge for the Eurasian section of the Commonwealth Writing Prize. Two decades later, I had forgotten what it had been about.
But I am glad Steve persuaded me to read her. Kate Atkinson is distinctively British, and Death at the Sign of the Rook is set in a country house and the surrounding village, and seems a modern descendant of the laidback Agatha Christies I so much enjoy.
There are, however, many differences in that we have a policeman who can go rogue, like Rebus, with again a female sidekick who has a mind of her own, again like Rebus. But Jackson Brodie has retired and set up as a private investigator, while Reggie, a young lady, is still in the police.
There is a lesbian couple living in the converted dairy of the manor house, as has occurred in Agatha Christie too, in A Murder is Announced. But they are peripheral to the story, unlike Ben, the brother of one of them who left the army after losing a leg in Afghanistan. When he turns up at the Manor House to shelter from a snowstorm, along with its chatelaine, Lady Milton, he is asked to answer the door as various characters turn up, including Jackson and Reggie, who then starts fantasising about him.
The others who turn up are two couples, one from America, who have paid for a murder weekend at the hotel. The family is impoverished, and has sold lots of pictures to survive, but most recently a Turner had been stolen, almost certainly by Lady Milton’s housekeeper Sophie, who vanished one night along with the picture. Reggie had been involved in that investigation, but there had been no trace of either picture or young lady.
Jackson Brodie suspects a connection between that theft and the one he has been called in to investigate, which has not been reported to the police. The picture hung opposite the bed of an old woman whose carer vanished after she died, along with it. Her children, adopted twins, have asked Jackson to investigate and also try to trace the carer, though he suspects something strange in that they did not go to the police.
Brodie, in studying the stolen art, is also struck by the disappearance of a Rembrandt from a house in Scotland, along with a member of the cleaning staff. He thinks the three women might be the same one.
But Brodie’s assumption that the three women who vanished when valuable pictures did were identical would not have helped except that Beatrice, as she was also called, kept turning up, including to the funeral home where the old lady’s body was kept. And then that picture turned up, in the village church, and was found by the local vicar, Simon Cate, whose life story is also a prominent feature of the novel. He was an aspiring actor but then smitten by faith, and became a priest, but in time he lost his faith. His wife left him after the death of their son, and he is now in this backwater, where he feels he is of no use to anyone. But he has a great feel for living beings, and his most successful service has been one in which he blessed pets. And he was deeply concerned about the bees that Ben looks after for his sister and her wife.
He too staggers into the manor house in the midst of the storm, in which everyone concerned loses their way comprehensively. But amongst those Ben lets in is a man in a tracksuit with cuts and bruises, who then vanishes after he has been led to a bedroom, when Ben went in search of brandy. We soon work out that it is the escaped murderer about whom Reggie has been alerted.
Simon also turns up, through the back door, carrying the picture and also a gun, for he has found the dead body of one of his parishioners when he went to her house in search of his mobile phone. She had been shot and he had picked up the gun he found there. But he could not tell the police, for though he called he had lost his voice, and for the last few days had communicated only through writing.
This chaotic mix of characters at the manor house is further complicated by the group of players putting on the murder mystery play though some members have either cried off or died before reaching the venue. So, there is much doubling up and confusion over who is an actor and who is not.
The grand now largely empty rooms of the manor house, and its various odd passages and multiple doors, make it a splendid set for the lunacy that runs on and on. Reggie finds herself in a pantry Atkinsonwith a dead body, though this turns out to be the nanny who fell down the stairs and was put there by Lady Milton’s younger son. And there is high drama on the roof when the murderer nearly kills Ben, but he is saved by Reggie, and when he tries to kill Brody with an axe, he is shot by Beatrice, who has been the maid who served at the dinner before the murder mystery play, and explains to Brody how she has managed all her thefts.
And then in the melee, she vanishes on a motorbike, along with the daughter of the old lady’s adopted daughter, the only person who seemed to grieve at the funeral, and to whom the old lady had left her house in a codicil to
her will, which her children have not known about. She leaves the picture to the carer, but it is brought to Simon Cate as he lies in hospital, recovering from a heart attack which adds confusion to the play.
Wonderfully convoluted, but all very clear, despite the headlong pace of the book and its shifts from one scene to another, from one character to another (or rather combinations of them) and from one-time span to another. A writer and a detective well worth looking out for. e more books by her on Dinali’s shelves.
Features
Safety, security and teamwork in aviation
by Capt. (Ret.).G.A. Fernando, MBA
There are three essential components to a commercial airline operation: safety, security and teamwork.
Aviation and teamwork at the ‘sharp’ end of a commercial aircraft, i.e. the flight deck, is unique. Unlike many other teams, it may be quite literally the first and the last time a particular combination of small teams of two, three, or four individual airmen (or women) will fly together. Sometimes even in the same airline that employs them.
Therefore, to make conditions safe and practical, while understanding and trusting tech other, they have to rely on a series of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), and ‘Normal’ and ‘Emergency’ checklists for every conceivable situation. That is, to be able to do the right things, and do things right. In fact, there is a saying in aviation to the effect that ‘if you make a mistake in aviation, be original and make a new one’.
To ensure that safety standards are constantly maintained, airline pilots’ proficiency is tested every six months, in simulators, under the supervision of examiners from the civil aviation regulator. In Sri Lanka that organisaton is the Civil Aviation Authority-Sri Lanka (CAASL). Three simulator checks are conducted every 12 months in keeping with the tenet that ‘practice makes perfect’. A pithy adage not confined to the world of aviation warns that ‘prior preparation prevents piss-poor performance’.
The simulator exercises include rejected takeoffs, including in cross-wind situations, landings, engine fires and/or engine failures from a variety of causes, cabin pressurisation failure, precision and non-precision approaches, and landings in bad visibility – amongst other conditions that could be expected in actual flight.
In addition, a flight in a real airplane, on a regular passenger service under the supervision of an examiner from the airline, is undertaken to ensure that the company’s standard practices and procedures are carried out and maintained as prescribed in the airline’s manuals. These publications are in turn approved by the national regulator.
Finally, flight crew members must take a written test annually, on emergency equipment locations and procedures, with 90% as the pass mark.
Since the mid-1980s it has been mandatory for airline pilots to undertake a Crew Resource Management (CRM) programme once every two years. This training essentially emphasises what to do and what not to do to, in a specific emergency situation, or even during normal operations, to make the team cohesive and effective. During the course, the CRM facilitators discuss recent incidents and accidents that have occurred. Results of those events are recorded and could be retrieved, when necessary, by the official aviation bodies.
Not unexpectedly, it is demanding on a pilot to fulfill these requirements on a regular basis throughout his/her career, along with presenting for a bi-annual medical examination, all with the objective of retaining one’s licence to operate an aircraft. It may not be understood, therefore, by persons outside the aviation industry, or even some working in other aspects of an airline organisation, that it is often the passion for flight that keeps many pilots doing what they do to earn a living.
Security
Another important factor is the challenge of maintaining security in all aspects of airline operations, not least in the cockpit. The challenges are many, with new ones surfacing almost every day. It is therefore essential to be always prepared for the activities and ‘methods’ of perpetrators seeking to wreak evil on an aircraft and its occupants. As it is impossible for any airline or national security organisation to cover all aspects, systematic management of risks to effect a safe outcome becomes imperative.
Flydubai Incident
In the recent Flydubai incident of 30 September, 2026, a first officer (co-pilot) attacked the captain of the flight with a crash axe to accomplish his sinister motives, into which investigations are continuing. For the time being, it prompts the questions: should the crash axe be easily accessible to the flight crew? Or even be there at all? I believe it is a case of assessing the greater risk.
With regard to that event, and the circumstances that led to it, other deterrents could have been applied more thoroughly. For example, more thorough screening of pilots’ and other crewpersons’ backgrounds, with emphasis on their mental health, ideological affiliations and previous employment history. Separately, during a time of conflict in the Middle East, should Flydubai have even been operating between Dubai and Tel Aviv? Notwithstanding that cost-cutting and profit maximisation are key aims of any business, an airline’s apparent failure to conduct adequate psychological profiling of flight crew members, while continuing to operate ‘profitable’ routes, regardless of potential danger, can only be regarded and condemned as greed and disregard for human lives.
( Captain. Fernando, RCyAF, SLAF, Air Ceylon, Air Lanka, Singapore Airlines (SIA), SriLankan Airlines, Former Chief Pilot, Air Lanka Boeing 737, Former Deputy Chief Pilot, Lockheed L 1011, Former Crew Resource Management (CRM) Facilitator, SIA, Former Deputy Director (Air Operations) CAASL, Former President, Aircraft Owners and Operators Association Sri Lanka (AOAOASL), President, The Colombo Flying Club, Representative for Aviation, Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA), Hony, and Member Sri Lanka Society of Transport and Logistics.)
-
Features4 days agoThe Sri Lankan who made Scottish history
-
Features6 days agoPreventing grievances from becoming communal
-
Sports4 days agoNissanka absence opens door for Sri Lanka’s young guns
-
News5 days agoGnansara Thera to be assigned to prison printing section: Officials
-
News3 days agoNDB fraud Rs 60mn more than reported
-
News3 days agoRemoving monk’s robes matter for Sangha to decide: Mahanayake Theras
-
Features4 days agoFuture of Sri Lanka’s state university system: Should it be shut down and reopened?
-
News5 days agoOIC of FCID summoned before Maligakanda Magistrate



