Connect with us

Features

Herbert Cooray’s life lessons – from St. Benedicts to St. Joseph’s College

Published

on

Herby’s political idols were Philip Gunaawardena and N. M. Perera. Here he is seen accompanying them in a protest parade in 1953. The photograph appeared in the newspaper the next day and got Herby into a lot of trouble at home. accompanying them in a protest parade in 1953. The photograph appeared in the newspaper the next day and got Herby into a lot of trouble at home.

(Excerpted from A Man in his Time – the Jetwing story and the life of Herbert Cooray by Shiromal Cooray)


The end of the war brought changes to the Cooray clan, as it did to the lives of many. Jeramius for reasons that are not recorded, decided to return to his hometown of Heenkenda near Ragama, Northeast of Colombo. His family had property here, including a large house and grounds belonging to his uncle, who having no children of his own, made heirs of his brother’s sons. The boys still being children, Jeramius and Lucy moved into the Heenkenda house and made it their home. By then there was another addition to the family by way of a girl, Lilian who was studying at Good Shepherd Convent, Kotahena.

Herbert fondly called Herby and Neville now lived within the bosom of family they had only occasionally known hitherto; there were uncles, aunts and cousins all down the street, the Mahagedera and Medagedera were all a mere five minute walk away. This abrupt transplantation must have been a significant, perhaps in some measure traumatic, experience for boys now in the initial stages of adolescence. Meanwhile, they continued their education at St. Benedict’s, which had resumed its former premises at Kotahena.

The boys would cycle to Ragama railway station, leave their bikes at the nearby house of a family friend and catch the train to Colombo. It was a long commute for those days, though not unbearably so. The friend who looked after their bicycles for them was also the owner of a radio set, still something of a rarity in Ceylon at the time. At his house, Herbert an ardent cricket lover, first heard commentaries on international cricket matches played in Australia, England, South Africa and the West Indies.

The radio became another window to the vast world outside. Herbert would often reminisce fondly about those adolescent listening sessions, remarking on how bad the signal had been, how hard one had to concentrate in order to follow even the gist of the commentary. It did not help that the little room with the radio was full of other cricket fans, all equally excited to hear the action described as it happened, and usually far more vociferous in their appreciation than Herbert! But all were friends together – and when there were no Test matches being played, the aficionados would turn cricketers in their own right.

Herby joined in the innumerable games that were played in an empty lot by the railway station, and when he mounted his bicycle to pedal home, it was often nearly dark. If radio was an occasional supplement to his education, reading was a constant one. He had picked up the habit as a youngster, voraciously devouring whatever came his way.

As with most of his educational influences, this too, could be traced to his mother, an avid lifelong reader herself. On Saturdays, Herbert would often make the long trudge back to the city, where the Colombo Book Club in the Fort displayed recent issues of foreign magazines and newspapers, not freely available elsewhere.

He would spend the entire day at the Club, reading. His appetite was for sporting tales and biographies, the classics and the riches of English poetry, and throughout life his conversation would be loaded with quotations from what he had read. Later, he developed an interest in politics and business and read everything he could find on these subjects. The Club librarian was so impressed by his thirst for knowledge that he began saving books and old magazines due for disposal and presenting them to the boy on his visits.

Herbert’s penchant for reading persisted throughout his life, and he actively cultivated it in his children and grandchildren. His travels abroad always included a book-buying expedition or two on their itineraries. On his first overseas visit, he shipped one big trunk-load of books for his collection. Later on, when he became a hotelier, he educated himself by reading every book or article on the subject he could lay his hands on.

The war years were instructive in another way: they gave Herbert Cooray his first lessons in hardship. This was not merely a matter of frequent changes of address, makeshift schoolrooms and improbably long commutes; there were also the very real deprivations of food and rationing suffered by all. Everybody managed somehow, but the period left lasting impression on Herbert, bringing home the lesson that nothing in life is permanent or to be taken for granted. It was an insight he often, later, repeated to his own children, advising them that they should “learn to sleep as well on a mat in a thatched hut as in a soft bed in a palace, just as the situation demanded”.

Wealth and leisure, he told them, were fleeting gifts; the only dependable treasure was a good

education, which was both the royal road to personal independence and the only treasure of which one could never be dispossessed. The period also taught him not to put stock in material comforts, but to make the most of the simple pleasures of life.

In due course, the Cooray brothers left St. Benedicts for St. Joseph’s College in Maradana in order to prepare for their university entrance examinations. Though St. Joseph’s was an unabashedly elite institution, Herby soon found a way to win the respect and admiration of his contemporaries. The eager listener to Test-match broadcasts had become an accomplished cricketer, and was quickly selected to play for the college, as he had earlier for St. Benedict’s.

Despite having won the acceptance of his peers, he did not lose his hatred of injustice and inhumanity, whether he himself or another was the victim of it. His cricketing career thus came to an abrupt end when he was dropped from the college team at the eleventh hour under circumstances he deemed unfair. Having spoken his mind out to the master in charge, he resigned from the team for good, never to play another match.

The incident however, did not sour him against the sport; he retained a lifelong interest in it, and became a proud supporter and cheerleader at college matches when his son Hiran became a member of the St. Joseph’s First XI. However, the incident was an example of the difficulty Herbert would always have in conforming to the formal expectations of society and authority.

The Rector of St. Joseph’s in his time was a strict disciplinarian, named Rev. Fr. Peter Pillai who often chided Herbert for his waywardness. ‘You will never qualify to enter university,’ predicted the good Reverend, who often compared him with his studious and “proper” brother Neville. He was however proved wrong when the examination results were published and Herbert Cooray was found to have passed within the upper division, an outcome which surprised the young scholar almost much as it did those who knew him.

Amusingly, Rev. Peter Pillai had summoned Herbert’s father to complain about yet another misdeed of his rebellious son on the very same day that the results arrived. Fortunately for Herbert, they were posted minutes before his father’s arrival rather than after! It was a case of being saved, almost literally, by the bell.



Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Features

Pay attention or pay the price: Sri Lanka’s maritime imperative in a fractured ocean

Published

on

An AFP photo of people queuing up for LP gas in Colombo

Sri Lanka stands at a geopolitical crossroads where geography is both its greatest asset and its most vulnerable liability. Sitting astride the Indian Ocean’s critical east-west highway, the waters, south of Dondra Head, channel nearly 30% of the world’s maritime trade. This route is the arterial vein connecting Asia, Europe, and the Middle East. Yet, as tensions flare in the Middle East and great power competition intensifies, Sri Lanka finds itself guarding a highway it does not own, with an economy too fragile to absorb the shocks of collateral damage.

Recent analyses, including insights from the Financial Times on the fragility of global ocean governance, offer a stark warning: international treaties alone cannot guarantee security. The newly enacted UN Biodiversity Beyond National Jurisdiction (BBNJ) treaty may be a diplomatic triumph, but as major powers, like the US, sidestep commitments, while China seeks strategic influence, the high seas are becoming increasingly lawless. For Sri Lanka, relying on international law to protect its 600,000 km² Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), is a strategy destined to fail. The moment demands a shift from passive reliance to active resilience.

The Naval Imperative: Sovereignty requires strength

The first pillar of survival is a robust Navy. The FT report highlights that without enforcement mechanisms, marine protected areas become “paper parks.” Similarly, an EEZ without patrol capacity is merely a line on a map. With Sri Lanka’s Navy having just rescued 32 Iranian sailors from the sunken frigate IRIS Dena, following a US submarine strike in nearby international waters, and additional Iranian vessels now seeking assistance, or operating in the region, amid major powers vying for influence, the risk of direct incidents at sea remains very real.

Sri Lanka must accelerate investment in blue-water naval capacity and EEZ surveillance. Strengthening patrols, south of Dondra Head, is not just about conservation, it is about sovereignty. The ability to manage rescue operations, grant diplomatic clearances, and monitor traffic, without external coercion, is the definition of independence. “Might is right” remains the operating principle for some superpowers. Sri Lanka cannot afford to be a bystander in its own waters. A strong Navy acts as a deterrent, ensuring that the 30% of global shipping passing nearby does not become a theatre for proxy conflicts.

Statecraft: Balancing economics and sovereignty

The second pillar is nuanced statecraft. Sri Lanka imports nearly 100% of its fuel, making it hypersensitive to disruptions in the Strait of Hormuz. Prolonged conflict in the Middle East will spike oil prices, reigniting inflation and threatening the hard-won economic stability following recent crises. However, economic desperation must not drive diplomatic misalignment.

The smartest priority is strict neutrality. Sri Lanka cannot afford to alienate any major partner – the US, India, China, Iran, or the Gulf states. Coordinating quietly with India for maritime domain awareness is prudent given proximity, but joining any military bloc is perilous. Recent discussions highlight how the US aggressively prioritises resource extraction in international waters, often at the expense of broader environmental protections. Sri Lanka must navigate these competing agendas without becoming a pawn. Publicly urging de-escalation, through forums like the Indian Ocean Rim Association (IORA), allows Colombo to advocate for safe passage without picking sides.

Securing the economy and energy future

The third pillar is economic shielding. The immediate threat is fuel security. The government must build emergency fuel stocks and negotiate alternative suppliers to buffer against Hormuz disruptions. The Central Bank must be prepared to manage rupee pressure as import bills swell. Furthermore, monitoring secondary effects is crucial; higher shipping costs will hit exports like tea and garments, while tourism warnings could dampen arrival numbers.

Long-term resilience demands energy diversification, prioritising solar power. Sri Lanka’s abundant sunshine offers huge potential to cut reliance on Middle Eastern oil and shield the economy from geopolitical shocks. Accelerate rooftop/utility-scale solar with incentives: duty exemptions on equipment, enhanced net-metering, subsidies/loans for households and businesses, and fast-tracked approvals plus battery storage support. This attracts investment, creates jobs, and boosts energy security. Secure financier confidence for sustainable blue economy initiatives without compromising sovereignty.

The bottom line

The message for Sri Lanka is clear: This is a “pay attention or pay the price” moment. The country is geographically positioned on the critical Indian Ocean highway but remains economically fragile. The smartest priorities are to protect people first, secure the seas second, and shield the economy third, all while staying strictly neutral.

Any misstep, whether getting drawn into naval incidents or visibly picking sides in a great power struggle, would be far costlier than the fuel price hike itself. The global oceans treaty may offer a framework for cooperation, but as experts warn, we need “systems of co-operation that go beyond the mere words on the page.” For Sri Lanka, those systems must be built on national capacity, diplomatic agility, and an unwavering commitment to neutrality. The ocean is rising with tension; Sri Lanka must ensure it does not drown in the wake.

Reference:

“The geopolitics of the global oceans treaty”https://www.ft.com/content/563bef02-f4a7-42c3-9cfa-7c3fe51be1eb

By Professor Chanaka Jayawardhena
Professor of Marketing
University of Surrey
Chanaka.j@gmail.com

Continue Reading

Features

Winds of Change:Geopolitics at the crossroads of South and Southeast Asia

Published

on

Asanga Abeyagoonasekera

Asanga Abeyagoonasekera’s latest book is a comprehensive account of international relations in the regions it covers, with particular reference to current rivalries between India and China and the United States. It deals with shifting alliances, or rather alliances that grow stronger or weaker through particular developments: there are no actual breaks in a context in which the three contestants for power in the region are wooing or threatening smaller countries, moving seamlessly from one mode to the other though generally in diplomatic terms.

The area is now widely referred to as the Indo-Pacific. Though that term was coined over a hundred years ago by a German keen to challenge the Anglo-American hegemony that triumphed after the First World War, it gained currency more recently, following a speech by the hawkish Japanese Prime Minister Shinzo Abe, who was instrumental in developing the Quad Alliance between Japan, India, the United States and Australia.

This marked a radical change in Indian Foreign Policy, for India had prided itself previously on being Non-Aligned, while the West saw it as close to the Soviet Union and then to Russa. But as Abeyagoonasekera constantly reiterates, India’s approach is governed now by nervousness about China, which in the last couple of decades has made deep inroads into the Indian Ocean. Now many states around this Ocean, relatively far from China, are being closely connected, economically but also otherwise, with China.

Instrumental in this development is the Belt and Road Initiative, which China has used to develop infrastructure in the region, designed to facilitate its own trade, but also the trade of the countries that it has assisted. Abeyagoonasekera is clear throughout the book that the initiative has been of great assistance to the recipient countries, and contests vigorously the Western claim that it was designed as a debt trap to control those countries.

I fully endorse this view. To supplement his perspective with a couple of anecdotes, I recall a British friend in Cambodia telling me how the country had benefited from Chinese support, which developed infrastructure – whereas the West in those days concentrated on what it called capacity building, which meant supporting those who shared its views through endless seminars in expensive hotels, a practice with which we are familiar in this country too.

Soon afterwards I met a very articulate taxi driver in Ethiopia, who had come home from England, where he had worked for many years, who described the expansion of its road network. This had been neglected for years, until the Chinese turned up. I remembered then a Dutchman at a conference talking about the sinister nature of a plane full of Chinese businessmen, to which an African responded in irritation that the West had applauded the plunder of the continent by their own businessmen, and that the Africans now knew better and could ensure some benefit to themselves as the owners of the commodities the West had long thought their own birthright.

Abeyagoonasekera contrasts with the Chinese approach the frugality of the Indians, a frugality born of relative poverty, and appends the general suspicions with which Indian interventions are treated, given previous efforts at domination. And while he is himself markedly diplomatic in his accounts of the different approaches of the three players in this game, time and time again he notes the effortless ease with which the Chinese have begun to dominate the field.

His research has been thorough, and the statistics he cites about trade make clear that the Chinese are streets ahead of the other two, both in terms of balances as well as in absolute terms. And he notes too that, whereas the Western discourse is of Chinese restrictions on freedom, in Sri Lanka at any rate it is the others who are wary of transparency.

Though he notes that there is no clarity about the agreements the current government has entered into with the Indians, and that contrary to what might have been expected from former Marxists it has not resumed the tilt towards China of earlier left wing regimes, he shows that there has been no break with China. He seems to believe that the groundwork China laid still gives hope of more economic development than what the other two countries have to offer.

We cannot after all forget that the Rajapaksa government first asked India to develop the Hambantota port, and I still recall the Indian High Commissioner at the time, Ashok Kantha, wondering whether India had erred in not taking up the offer. In a marked example of how individuals affect bilateral relations, I have no doubt his predecessor, the effusive Alok Prasad, would have taken up the offer.

It was Rajapaksa hubris that made the cost of the port escalate, for when the rock inside the breakwaters was discovered, before the harbour was filled, and Mahinda Rajapaksa was told it would not cost much to get rid of it, he preferred to have the opening on his birthday as scheduled, which meant the waters then had to be drained away for the rock to be dynamited. And unfortunately, planning being left to the younger brother, we had grandiose buildings in the town, instead of the infrastructure that would have ensured greater economic activity.

This error was repeated in spades with regard to Mattala. Though not in the right place, which was not the case with the Hambantota development, nothing was done to take advantage of the location such as it was and institute swift connections with the hill country, the East Coast, and the wildlife so abundant in the area.

The last section of the book, after its thorough examination of the activities of the three major players in the region as a whole, deals with Sri Lanka’s Domestic Political Challenges, and records, politely but incisively, the endless blunders that have brought us lower and lower. But while highlighting the callousness of politicians, he also notes how efforts to appease the West weakened what he describes as core protections.

Though there has been much speculation about what exactly brought down Gotabaya Rajapaksa – not his government, for that in essence continued, with a different leader – perhaps the most far-reaching revelation in Abeyagoonasekera’s book is of Gotabaya’s conviction that it was the CIA that destroyed him. As so often when the hidden hand of the West is identified, the local contributions are ignored, as Gotabaya’s absurd energy policy, and the ridiculous tax concessions with which his rule began. But that does not mean there were no other players in the game.

Ironically, Gotabaya’s accusations against the United States occur after a startling passage in which Abeyagoonasekera declares of that country that ‘The fatigue gripping the nation is deeper than weariness; it is a spiritual exhaustion, a slow erosion of belief. Rising prices, policy paralysis, and a fractured foreign policy have left America adrift. Inflation haunts them like a spectre, while the immigrant crisis stirs frustrations in communities already stretched to their limits’.

This he claims explains the re-emergence of Donald Trump. Now, in the midst of the horrors Trump has perpetrated, this passage suggests that he is desperate to assert himself in denial of the fatigue that has overcome a nation initially built on idealism, now in the throes of ruthless cynicism. What will follow I do not know. But the manner in which India’s slavishness to the bullying of Netanyahu and Trump has destroyed the moral stature it once had suggests that Abeyagoonasekera’s nuanced but definite adulation of Chinese policy will be a hallmark of the new world order.

By Rajiva Wijesinha

Continue Reading

Features

Human–Elephant conflict in Sri Lanka

Published

on

Human–elephant conflict (HEC) in Sri Lanka results in significant loss of human life, elephant deaths, and extensive damage to crops and property. Despite numerous interventions over the decades, the situation continues to deteriorate. The reasons for the breakdown of what was once a relatively tolerant coexistence—albeit one dominated by humans—into an increasingly confrontational relationship must be clearly understood by both the public and policymakers. Immediate measures are required to minimise losses, alongside long-term solutions grounded in sound ecological and governance principles. It must also be recognised that this is a complex problem; effective mitigation and sustainable solutions require a multidisciplinary approach integrated into the country’s overall development planning. This article examines several cost-effective methods that have been successfully implemented in other countries and may apply to the Sri Lankan context.

Key Challenge: Lack of Reliable Data

The primary reason for the escalation of human–elephant conflict (HEC) is the shrinking of wildlife habitats in the country due to poorly planned development and uncontrolled, unwise land encroachment. A major barrier to effective intervention is the lack of accurate and comprehensive data in two key areas: (a) land and land utilisation, and (b) the elephant population and their range.

It became evident after the Ditwah cyclone disaster that the lack of readily accessible, reliable data on land and its use, is a major obstacle to a wide range of project planning and implementation efforts. Regardless of how HEC is mitigated, the government must take immediate action to establish a digital land-use database, as this is a key component of long-term planning for any development initiative. Using modern aerial mapping technologies, it should be possible to catalogue the geography and utilisation of every square metre of the island’s landmass.

Crossing a railroad in the North Central Province (File photo)

Wild elephant near an electric fence (File photo

Chilli-grease fence

Similarly, accurate data on the number of elephants, their age and gender distribution, and the extent of their habitat range, are essential for data-driven decision-making. Here, too, modern technology offers practical solutions. Land-based digital cameras have been successfully used to count elephants, identify individual animals, and monitor their range. Research has shown that the pigmentation patterns of Asian elephants—particularly those on their ears—can serve as a “fingerprint” for identifying individuals. The same technique can also be used to study elephant movement patterns and habitat range. Computer programmes already exist for such cataloguing purposes; however, developing a similar programme, locally, could be both economical and educational, for example, as part of a university IT programme. Since data-driven decision-making is key to the success of any long-term strategy, data collection must begin immediately while short-term mitigation measures are implemented.

Root cause

There must be a general understanding of how this problem has worsened. Sri Lanka is considered an anomaly in island biogeography for supporting a high density of megafauna—including Asian elephants, leopards, and sloth bears—on a relatively small landmass of about 65,000 square kilometres. This is further complicated by the country’s high human population density, estimated at about 356–372 people per square kilometre, ranking among the highest in the world. The human population has increased more than fivefold between 1900 and 2024, from about 4.5 million to nearly 22 million.

The corresponding expansion of land use for human settlement, agriculture, and infrastructure development has placed enormous pressure on wildlife habitats. Habitat loss, together with imbalances in predator populations, has resulted not only in escalating human–elephant conflict (HEC) but also in increasing crop damage caused by peacocks, monkeys, giant squirrels, and feral pigs. The Sri Lankan elephant has no natural predators; its only significant threat arises from human activities. Restoring balance within this complex ecological system is no easy task, yet it must remain the long-term objective if the country is to safeguard its unique biodiversity.

Short-term Measures

Since the current situation has developed over an extended period, practical and humane solutions will also take time to implement. In the short term, several interventions can reduce direct interactions between humans and elephants while ensuring the safety of both:

* Strict prohibition of roadside feeding and improved waste management.

* Public education on safe deterrence methods and the promotion of ethical and sustainable practices in forests, national parks, and sanctuaries.

* The use of proven, non-lethal deterrent methods implemented in a coordinated and systematic manner.

* Anti-depredation squads (ADS): well-trained response teams tasked with implementing and monitoring these measures.

* The use of AI-based technologies to prevent train–elephant collisions.

Several countries have successfully used chilli as a deterrent to keep elephants away from farms and settlements. While cultivating chilli as a crop may contribute to this effort, it alone is not an effective deterrent; the pungent compounds in chilli, which act as an irritant to elephants, must be delivered effectively. One widely used and economical method is chilli-grease fencing, an alternative to electric fencing. In this method, rags soaked in a mixture of ground chilli and used motor oil are hung from ropes in strategic locations to create a deterrent barrier.

More advanced deterrence techniques have also been tested. For example, compressed-air launchers that fire chilli-filled projectiles have demonstrated effectiveness in safely redirecting elephants from a distance without causing harm. In some countries, locally made projectiles containing chilli powder, sand, and firecrackers enclosed in flexible sheaths, such as rubber balloons, are ignited and launched ahead of approaching animals. When combined with strobe lights, air horns, or other noise-making devices, these methods have been found to be even more effective. Over time, elephants may learn to associate irritation with light and sound, allowing these signals alone to act as deterrents. The main limitation of this approach is the need for well-trained personnel available throughout the day. Therefore, the involvement of existing national services—such as the armed forces—in developing and implementing such systems should be considered.

Technology can also play an important role in reducing train–elephant collisions. Night-vision cameras mounted on trains, combined with artificial intelligence, could be used not only to detect elephants but also to identify patterns in elephant movements near railway tracks. Once such high-risk locations are mapped, additional cameras could be installed along the tracks to transmit warning signals to approaching trains when elephants are detected nearby. As a further step, this system could be integrated with the Driver’s Safety Device (DSD)—the “dead man’s” handle or pedal—so that trains can be automatically stopped when elephants are detected on or near the tracks, thereby reducing reliance solely on driver response.

Sustainable Long-Term Solutions

A lasting resolution depends on strategic land-use planning and coexistence-based management. This must form part of a broader national discussion on the sustainable use of the country’s limited land resources.

* Protection and restoration of elephant migration corridors.

* Data-driven placement and maintenance of fencing, rather than attempting to confine elephants within fixed areas.

* Strengthened management of wildlife reserves, including the prevention of human encroachment and uncontrolled cattle grazing.

* Habitat improvement within forests to reduce the attraction of elephants to agricultural lands.

* Introduction of drought-resistant grass varieties such as Cenchrus purpureus (commonly known as elephant grass or Napier grass) and Pennisetum purpureum in wildlife refuges and national parks to alleviate food shortages during the dry season.

* Population control measures, including vaccine-based methods, supported by reliable population data.

Public education on the importance of maintaining ecological balance—especially amid environmental change and expanding economic development—must also be a key priority. Basic principles of environmental management should be incorporated into higher education across all disciplines. At the same time, difficult but necessary questions must be asked about the long-term sustainability and economic return of certain land-use patterns, particularly those shaped during the colonial period for plantation crops. Inefficient agricultural practices, such as chena cultivation, should be phased out, and the clearing of wilderness—especially in ecologically sensitive highland areas for tourism development—must be strictly regulated.

Elephants typically travel between 15 and 50 kilometres a day. Therefore, restoring uninterrupted elephant corridors, linking existing wildlife reserves, must be a central component of long-term planning. In some cases, this may require carefully considering the relocation of human settlements that have developed within former elephant corridors.

Unfortunately, rural communities often bear a disproportionate share of the burden created by these conservation measures. It is, therefore, essential that policies ensure they receive a fair share of the economic benefits generated by wildlife-based industries, particularly tourism. Such policies should aim to help these communities transition from subsistence livelihoods toward improved standards of living. In this context, a critical evaluation of existing agricultural systems must form part of a broader national land-management strategy. Put plainly, the long-term viability of plantation industries, such as tea and rubber, should be assessed in terms of their return on investment—particularly the investment of scarce land resources.

Finally, all ecosystems have a carrying capacity, meaning there is a limit to the number of people and animals that a given area of land can sustain. This issue extends beyond Sri Lanka; many scientists argue that, given current levels of malnutrition and resource depletion, the planet may already have exceeded its sustainable carrying capacity. Others suggest that technological advances and lifestyle changes may increase that capacity. In either case, significant changes in human consumption patterns and lifestyles are likely to become inevitable.

For elephants, however, the absence of natural predators means that humane human intervention may be required to manage population growth sustainably. If elephant populations were allowed to increase unchecked, food scarcity could lead to malnutrition and starvation among the animals themselves. At the same time, a nation, already struggling with child malnutrition, must carefully balance its limited resources between human welfare and wildlife conservation.

One promising approach is immunological sterilisation using the Porcine Zona Pellucida (PZP) vaccine, a reversible and humane form of immunocontraception used in wildlife population management. By stimulating antibodies that prevent sperm from fertilising eggs, this dart-delivered vaccine controls reproduction without significantly altering the animals’ natural behaviour. Once accurate data are obtained on the age and gender distribution of the Sri Lankan elephant population, the systematic application of such methods could become feasible.

Moreover, the development of local capacity to produce such vaccines should be encouraged. Similar technologies could also be applied to manage populations of other animals—such as monkeys and stray dogs—whose numbers can become problematic if left unchecked. Local vaccine production would not only address domestic needs but could potentially create opportunities for export and scientific collaboration.

Conclusion

Human–elephant conflict (HEC) in Sri Lanka is intensifying due to habitat fragmentation, unplanned development, and weak governance. Elephants require large, connected landscapes to survive, and when traditional migration corridors are blocked, conflict becomes inevitable.

Current ineffective practices—such as the mass translocation of elephants, fragmented fencing that obstructs migration routes, and policies that overlook the livelihoods of rural communities—must be reconsidered and replaced with more effective strategies. Mechanisms must also be established to ensure that the economic benefits of environmental protection, particularly those generated by wildlife tourism, are fairly shared with rural populations who bear the greatest burden of living alongside wildlife.

A shift toward data-driven planning, protection of ecological corridors, community partnerships, and stronger institutional accountability is essential. The human–elephant conflict is not solely a wildlife issue; it is fundamentally a land-use and governance challenge. Sri Lanka would benefit from establishing a dedicated Human–Elephant Coexistence Organisation, or from strengthening an existing Wildlife Commission with the authority and capacity to implement long-term, science-based management strategies.

With informed policies and genuine support for affected communities, peaceful coexistence between humans and elephants is both achievable and sustainable. Ultimately, educating future generations and equipping them to face emerging environmental challenges with knowledge and responsibility is the most effective long-term strategy.

BY Geewananda Gunawardana and Chula Goonasekera
on behalf of LEADS forum
Email admin@srilankaleads.com

Continue Reading

Trending