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How did we become a lawless State?

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Talk given by Rajan Hoole at the release of the book, Democracy Stillborn, at Trimmer Hall, Jaffna, on 11 Nov., 2022. The fellow speakers were Devanesan Nesiah, Ahilan Kadirgamar, Swasthika Arulingam and Kirupaimalar Hoole. The meeting was chaired by Mahendran Thiruvarangan

First, a message from K. Sritharan, who was with Rajani Thiranagama and Rajan Hoole in the University Teachers for Human Rights (Jaffna).

“The rule of law is in decline and has provoked much discussion, even in developed countries, where it has been the norm for over a hundred years. The West, which continually championed democracy and the rule of law itself, is facing a major crisis as populist right-wing politics make inroads into the mainstream. In the US, the legitimacy of institutions, which are crucial for accountability and the rule of law, are questioned, and conspiracy theories of utter distrust of authority become the fare among the masses. This crisis can lead to many upheavals.  We may eventually overcome and stabilize with more meaningful and broadened democratic formations. But the path towards that may not be smooth and the trend shows the moral high ground is ill-defined.

But, as an island nation, we have gone through major crisis after crisis and in the process have ruined and bankrupted our country. Many youths are now looking for the root causes for this plight. Our modern history is one of cohabitation with dominant colonial powers. During the British period, a cause of major social transformation was the colonial state formation. The vested interest of the British Colonial project, brought in institutional mechanisms and nurtured a political class to manage them.  The question is how the ruling elite of Ceylon used those institutions. In the balance, was it to enhance the interest of the people, or in pursuit of their short-term interests? Did their hold on power unleash forces which, of their own nature, created a series of fault lines by a perversion of nation building? In addressing these, we need to charter a new path. Of course, this cannot be done in isolation but it is necessary to identify the internal developments, and form broad solidarities that would get us out of this impasse.” End of message.

About Social Democracy

Arunachalam, was the first civil servant who radically stood for social democracy. He wanted the British officers, responsible for excesses during the Sinhalese-Muslim riots of 1915, punished, according to the law. In 1920, the British authorities, supported by Sinhalese nationalists, undermined the man hitherto deemed indispensable, and put him out to grass. Provoked by the economic collapse of 201, the Aragalaya protesters realised the state of acute lawlessness and got rid of the President and Prime Minister. We have Mahinda Rajapaksa finally admitting his mistakes, all implicitly permitted under the Constitution, and pleaded for another chance. Mahinda Rajapaksa comes in a line of leaders charged with murder, not only of journalists but also of war crimes and robbery. There were, of course, two parties to the war. But the Government’s intransigence made it intractable.

The law was simple, but we have muddled and obscured it. Had we followed it, we could have avoided this present impasse. Article 29 of the Constitution of 1948 had the provision, not to ‘Make persons of any community, or religion, liable to disabilities or restrictions to which persons of other communities or religions are not made liable …’ Quite simply it means treat everyone equally. The Government, being in a minority after the 1947 elections, used threat and bribery to disqualify Plantation Tamils from citizenship. What we may forget today is the Sinhalese opposition, left and liberal, for example H. Sri Nissanka, were united and firm in standing by the Plantation Tamils.

Britain’s gift to the Sinhalese leaders of cancelling the 1941 elections, gave them an eight-year free ride of power without an electoral mandate from 1940, during which time they were allowed to colour the future constitution. It led to indifference and apathy among opponents of the Citizenship Bill. Neither the Government nor the Supreme Court offered a cogent reason for the disenfranchisement of estate workers. The Supreme Court held that since Article 29 had no reference to race, taking away the franchise of a community was not a violation of Article 29, it was administrative. The Government was nervous when the Plantation Tamils appealed to the Privy Council.

The Privy Council first retreated because Parliament by defining citizenship indirectly by ancestry, had evaded the principle of equality in 29 (2). It however passed the Bill misquoting the Soulbury report which actually made clear that over 80 percent of Plantation Tamils were in 1941 either born in Ceylon or had resided over 10 years.

Lanka is a beneficiary of common laws, the Roman-Dutch and English. Good common law whatever its origins is transposable. Lanka learnt nothing from them. Answering the challenge to the Citizenship Act in 1951, Chief Justice Edward Jayatileke rejected equality and ruled that whatever Parliament passes has to be obeyed. However, Chief Justice Abrahams replying to DSG Wijewardene asserting Parliament’s supremacy in 1937 said, that a new law must accord with those that preceded it ‘so that there be no repugnance but a concordancy in all the parts thereof.’

Bills against the Plantation Tamils

We had Roman-Dutch law and English common law, both of which with different emphases, stood for common right. Both sets of law rejected the Citizenship and Franchise Acts from several angles. Having accepted the Donoughmore Bill in 1929 which promised the vote to everyone, we had 19 wasted years, no industrialisation, but demolish the voting rights of the Plantation Tamils. Nihal Jayawickrema gave a potent reason for treating the term community in the citizenship acts with respect: ‘Parliament must not discriminate against a particular community already resident in the country.’

We had in 1937 Chief Justice Abrahams upholding Habeas Corpus, no detention without the order of a judge, and freed Bracegirdle from deportation. The reversal, to detain without warrant, was legislated in the 1947 Public Security Ordinance, the last Bill passed under colonial rule. These were signposts on our march to independence and beyond.

Emergency permitted murder in ‘good faith.’ Although a British precedent was claimed for the Bill, in Britain actions under emergency became judicable once the emergency was lifted. The real fear in Ceylon was strike action by the combined unions over the Citizenship Bill of 1948. However, strike action was deterred by the ‘smash up’ of the 1947 general strike.

Ceylon Constitution and the

Citizenship Bill

Britain co-drafted a very fragile constitution to gain the Sinhalese leaders’ support during the Second World War. They cancelled State Council elections due in early 1941, jailed the Left and as pointed out, allowed Senanayake to rule eight years without a mandate prior to independence and determine the colour of the Judiciary. During this period. Left leaders N.M. Perera and Philip Gunawardena, then vocal advocates of the Indian Tamil equality, were cast into prison. Just before, the State Council in 1941 passed the Registration Bill, the precursor of the Citizenship Act of 1948. All Sinhalese, barring the imprisoned Left, voted for the Registration Bill. It required all qualifying as Ceylonese to have domicile of origin – produce father’s birth certificate – it was impossible for many in Ceylon, be it Sinhalese or Tamil, but Plantation Tamils were singled out for exclusion!

Carrot and stick on minorities to betray a fellow minority

The Muslims and Tamils were goaded to support the Citizenship Bill. Most of the Tamil elite, including prominent Youth Congress veterans, wanted the Tamils to support Senanayake. Out of 13 Ceylon Tamil MPs, a minuscule group of two opposed the Bill, S. Chelvanayakam and K.V. Nadarajah. Ponnambalam, however, voted against to avoid a split in the Congress, the remaining five MPs were absent on his instruction. The two Senators E. Naganathan and S. Nadesan, too, opposed the Bill, tooth and nail. For the Tamil minority it was suicide. Had it shown greater conviction the Muslims and the six government appointed members need not have supported the Citizenship Bill.

What we are left with is the Pollution of Administration of Justice by ignoring the principle of legality. The principle states that when we legislate to the hurt of a minority, it should be stated in clear unambiguous terms, acknowledging the political cost. This was never done in Lanka, although the cost was heavy. The new politics was exemplified in arm-twisting T.B. Jayah, champion of the underdog, to join the Government. But is that a way to build up a united nation?

In the 1950s any bill passed by a simple majority and signed by the Speaker was accepted as law, ignoring the two-thirds majority requirement for bills that violated the Constitution. Thus, Sinhala Only became law with 66 voting for and 29 against, short of a two-thirds majority. No one challenged it in court until Ranasinghe in the early 1960s, over something unconnected, the Bribery Tribunals Act. The Privy Council ruled that the Act required a two-thirds majority the Government did not show, and ruled in favour of Ranasinghe.

Giving judgment on 5th May 1964 for Ranasinghe’s case, nine days after de Kretser’s ruling Sinhala Only unconstitutional in the Colombo District Court as violating Article 29 (2), Lord Pearce reaffirmed the long ignored ‘fundamental conditions,’ or equality, stressing Article 29. By this time the SLFP-Left coalition and the UNP wanted the Privy Council and the Soulbury Constitution out. The mutual embarrassment had become heavy. This was accomplished in the new 1972 constitution, ridding our final toehold on the rule of law.

By the time Lord Pearce ruled for a correction in 1964, the Left and the Sinhalese right had rejected reform. The tested and potent Magna Carta right of detention only on the sufferance of a Judge was gone in 1947 and reaffirmed in the 1972 ‘progressive’ constitution. The erosion of law made communal violence, the worst manifestation of barbarity, to savage and kill an innocent person on the basis of race, acceptable. The State failed to punish and the Sinhalese were apologetic in a half-hearted way – Sinhalese they said protected Tamils.

An uneasy calm prevailed until 1977. The Muslims regarded themselves fairly safe while Jayewardene opened all stops of the 1972 Constitution. As for the criminal intent of our laws, Dr. Rajasundaram, like many Tamils, approved of the militancy only for a defensive purpose, against state-initiated attacks on civilians. The Sansoni Commission report gives several examples of such in 1977. Having committed himself to rehabilitate Tamil refugees, Rajasundaram had to face the violence of the State. What he did was far from terrorism.

He was detained under the PTA on the gossipy charge of trying to make peace between Maheswaran and Santhathiyar. When the tortured victim was produced in court, Judge Bandaranayake, instead of discharging him, announced an indefinite postponement of the hearing. Six days later he was killed in the infamous Welikade Prison massacre on 25th July 1983. While proof will never be found, it is quite certain that the massacre was organised by the Kelaniya mafia, still a major force in government, the seed planted by the PSO. This was about the time the Government viciously accused the JVP of responsibility for July 1983 and forced it underground, just when it democratically contested the Government’s foul play over the 1982 referendum. The damage was far worse than recent scams that provoked protests.

The Tamils professing to fight for liberation were also infected with the vulgar legalism inherited from the State – its constant demand for proof over complaints about missing persons. In Jaffna, the university students spontaneously went on strike in 1986 charging the LTTE with the disappearance of student Vijitharan. The LTTE leader Kittu came to discuss matters in the University of Jaffna common room. When confronted with the allegation, he responded, “Where is the proof?”

The Government tried tactical evasion by introducing a Bureau of Rehabilitation law that was disallowed by the Supreme Court on 20th October 2022. The state of our laws flows directly from the Citizenship Act. No Government has tried to put us right. All worked in the same culture to our detriment. The Language issue is but a by-product of the Citizenship Act.



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International Women’s Day spurs re-visit of unresolved issues

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The forum in progress; (L to R) BCIS Executive Director Priyanthi Fernando, Kumudini Samuel and Raaya Gomez.

‘Bread and Peace’. This was a stirring demand taken up by Russia’s working women, we are told, in 1917; the year the world’s first proletarian revolution shook Russia and ushered in historic changes to the international political order. The demand continues to be profoundly important for the world to date.

International Women’s Day (IWD) is continuing to be celebrated the world over, come March, but in Sri Lanka very little progress has been achieved over the years by way of women’s empowerment, despite Sri Lanka being a signatory to the UN Convention on the Elimination of all Forms of Discrimination Against Women (CEDAW) and other pieces of global and local legislation that promise a better lot for women.

The lingering problems in this connection were disturbingly underscored recently by the rape-assault on a female doctor within her consultation chamber at a prominent hospital in Sri Lanka’s North Central Province; to cite just one recent instance of women’s unresolved vulnerability and powerlessness.

The Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies, Colombo (BCIS) came to the forefront in taking up the above and other questions of relevance to women at a forum conducted at its auditorium on March 7th, in view of IWD. The program was organized by the library team at the BCIS, under the guidance of the BCIS Executive Director Priyanthi Fernando.

It was heartening to note that the event was widely attended by schoolchildren on the invitation of the BCIS, besides members of the public, considering that the awareness among the young needs to be consistently heightened and broadened on the principal issue of gender justice. Hopefully, going forward, the young would champion the cause of women’s rights having gained by the insights which have been surfaced by forums such as that conducted by the BCIS.

The panelists at the BCIS forum comprised Kumudini Samuel of the Women and Media Collective, a local organization which is in the forefront of taking up women’s issues, and Raaya Gomez, an Attorney-at-Law, engaged in women’s rights advocacy. Together they gave the audience much to think about on what needs to be done in the field of gender justice and linked questions.

The currently raging wars and conflicts worldwide ought to underscore as never before, the yet to be substantively addressed vulnerability of women and children and the absolute need for their consistent empowerment. It is plain to see that in the Gaza, for example, it is women and children who are put through the most horrendous suffering.

Yet, women are the sole care-givers and veritable bread winners of their families in particularly times of turmoil. Their suffering and labour go unappreciated and unquantified and this has been so right through history. Conventional economics makes no mention of the contribution of women towards a country’s GDP through their unrecorded labour and, among other things, this glaring wrong needs to be righted.

While pointing to the need for ‘Bread and Peace’ and their continuing relevance, Kumudini Samuel made an elaborate presentation on the women’s struggle for justice and equality in Sri Lanka over the decades. Besides being the first country to endow women with the right to vote in South Asia, Sri Lanka has been in the forefront of the struggle for the achievement of women’s rights in the world. Solid proof of this was given by Ms. Samuel via her presentation.

Schoolchildren at the knowledge-sharing session.

The presenter did right by pointing to the seventies and eighties decades in Sri Lanka as being particularly notable from the viewpoint of women’s advocacy for justice. For those were decades when the country’s economy was unprecedentedly opened or liberalized, thus opening the floodgates to women’s increasing exploitation and disempowerment by the ‘captains of business’ in the Free Trade Zones and other locations where labour rights tend to be neglected.

Besides, those decades witnessed the explosive emergence of the North-East war and the JVP’s 1987-’89 uprising, for example, which led to power abuse by the state and atrocities by militant organizations, requiring women’s organizations to take up the cause of ethnic peace and connected questions, such as vast scale killings and disappearances.

However, the presenter was clear on the point that currently Sri Lanka is lagging behind badly on the matter of women’s empowerment. For example, women’s representation currently in local councils, provincial councils and parliament is appallingly negligible. In the case of parliament, in 2024 women’s representation was just 9.8 %. Besides, one in four local women have experienced sexual and physical violence since the age of fifteen. All such issues and more are proof of women’s enduring powerlessness.

Raaya Gomez, among other things, dealt at some length on how Sri Lanka is at present interacting with and responding to international bodies, such as CEDAW, that are charged with monitoring the country’s adherence to international conventions laying out the state’s obligations and duties towards women.

This year, we were told, the Sri Lankan government submitted 11 reports to CEDAW in Geneva on issues raised by the latter with the state. Prominent among these issues are continuing language-related difficulties faced by minority group Lankan women. Also coming to the fore is the matter of online harassment of women, now on the ascendant, and the growing need for state intervention to rectify these ills.

It was pointed out by the presenter that overall what needs to be fulfilled by Sri Lanka is the implementation of measures that contribute towards the substantive equality of women. In other words, social conditions that lead to the vulnerability and disempowerment of women need to be effectively managed.

Moreover, it was pointed out by Gomez that civil society in Sri Lanka comes by the opportunity to intervene for women’s empowerment very substantively when issues relating to the Lankan state’s obligations under CEDAW are taken up in Geneva, usually in February.

Accordingly, some Lankan civil society organizations were present at this year’s CEDAW sessions and they presented to the body 11 ‘shadow reports’ in response to those which were submitted by the state. In their documents these civil society groups highlighted outstanding issues relating to women and pointed out as to how the Lankan state could improve its track record on this score. All in all, civil society responses amount to putting the record straight to the international community on how successful or unsuccessful the state is in adhering to its commitments under CEDAW.

Thus, the BCIS forum helped considerably in throwing much needed light on the situation of Lankan women. Evidently, the state is yet to accelerate the women’s empowerment process. Governments of Sri Lanka and their wider publics should ideally come to the realization that empowered women are really an asset to the country; they contribute immeasurably towards national growth by availing of their rights and by adding to wealth creation as empowered, equal citizens.

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Richard de Zoysa at 67

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by Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha

Today would have been Richard de Zoysa’s 67th birthday. That almost seems a contradiction in terms, for one could not, in those distant days of his exuberant youth, have thought of him as ever getting old. His death, when he was not quite 32, has fixed him forever, in the minds of those who knew and loved him, as exuding youthful energy.

It was 35 years ago that he was abducted and killed, and I fear his memory had begun to fade in the public mind. So we have to be thankful to Asoka Handagama and Swarna Mallawarachchi for bringing him to life again through the film about his mother. This was I think more because of Swarna, for I still recall her coming to see me way back in 2014 – August 28th it was, for my father was dying, though he was still mindful enough to ask me how my actress was after I had left him that afternoon to speak to her downstairs – to talk about her plans for a film about Manorani.

His friends have in general criticised the film, and I too wonder as to why she and the Director did not talk to more of his friends before they embarked on the enterprise. But perhaps recreating actual situations was not their purpose, or rather was not his, and that is understandable when one has a particular vision of one’s subject matter.

After listening to and reading the responses of his friends, I am not too keen to see the film, though I suspect I will do so at some stage. Certainly, I can understand the anger at what is seen as the portrayal of a drunkard, for this Manorani never to my knowledge was. But I think it’s absurd to claim there was never alcohol in the house, for there was, and Manorani did join in with us to have a drink, though she never drank to excess. Richard and I did, I fear, though not at his house, more at mine or at his regular haunt, the Art Centre Club.

I am sorry too that the ending of the film suggests that the murder was the responsibility of just its perpetrators, for there is no doubt that it was planned higher up. I myself have always thought it was Ranjan Wijeratne, who was primarily responsible, though I have no doubt that Premadasa also had been told – indeed Manorani told me that he had turned on Ranjan and asked why he had not been told who exactly Richard was.

But all that is hearsay, and it is not likely that we shall ever be able to find out exactly what happened. And otherwise it seems to me from what I have read, and in particular from one still I have seen (reproduced here), illustrating the bond between Richard and his mother, the film captures two vital factors, the extraordinary closeness of mother and son, and the overwhelming grief that Manorani felt over his death.

Despite this she fought for justice, and she also made it clear that she fought for justice not only for her son, but for all those whose loved ones had suffered in the reign of terror unleashed by JR’s government, which continued in Premadasa’s first fifteen months.

I have been surprised, when I was interviewed by journalists, in print and the electronic media, that none of them remembered Ananda Sunil, who had been taken away by policemen eight years earlier, when JR issued orders that his destructive referendum had to be won at all costs. Manorani told me she had met Ananda Sunil’s widow, who had complained, but had then gone silent, because it seemed the lives of her children had been threatened.

Manorani told me that she was comparatively lucky. She had seen her son’s body, which brought some closure, which the other women had not obtained. She had no other children, and she cared nothing for any threats against her own life for, as she said repeatedly, her life had lost its meaning with Zoysa’s death and she had no desire to live on.

I am thankful then that the film was made, and I hope it serves to renew Richard’s memory, and Manorani’s, and to draw attention to his extraordinary life, and hers both before and after his death. And I cannot be critical about the fact that so much about his life was left out, for a film about his mother’s response to his death could not go back to the past.

But it surprised me that the journalists did not know about his own past, his genius as an actor, his skill as a writer. All of them interviewed me for ages, for they were fascinated at what he had achieved in other spheres in his short life. Even though not much of this appeared in what they published or showed, I hope enough emerged for those interested in Richard to find out more about his life, and to read some of his poetry.

A few months after he died – I had been away and came back only six months later – I published a collection of his poetry, and then a few years later, having found more, republished them with two essays, one about our friendship, one about the political background to his death. And the last issue of the New Lankan Review, which he and I had begun together in 1983 in the tutory we had set up after we were both sacked from S. Thomas’, was dedicated to him. It included a striking poem by Jean Arasanayagam who captured movingly the contrast between his genius and the dull viciousness of his killers.

After those initial memorials to his life and his impact, I started working on a novel based on our friendship. I worked on this when I had a stint at the Rockefeller Centre in Bellagio in 1999, but I was not satisfied, and I worked on it for a few years more, before finally publishing the book in 2005. It was called The Limits of Love and formed the last book in my Terrorist Trilogy, the first book of which, Acts of Faith, had been written with his support, after the July 1983 riots. That was translated into Italian, as Atti di Fedi, and came out in 2006 in Milan.

The Limits of Love

did not receive much publicity, and soon afterwards I was asked to head the Peace Secretariat, and after that I wrote no more fiction. But when Godage & Bros had published several of my non-fiction works in the period after I was excluded from public life, I asked them to republish Acts of Faith, which they did, and that still remains in print. They also republished in 2020 Servants, my novel that won the Gratiaen Prize for 1995.

I thought then that it would be a good idea to republish The Limits of Love, and was delighted that Neptune agreed to do this, after the success of my latest political history, Ranil Wickremesinghe and the emasculation of the United National Party. I thought initially of bringing the book out on the anniversary of Richard’s death, but I had lost my soft copy and reproducing the text took some time. And today being Poya I could not launch the book on his birthday.

It will be launched on March 31st, when Channa Daswatte will be free to speak, for I recalled that 20 years ago my aunt Ena told me that he had admired the book. I think he understood it, which may not have been the case with some of Richard’s friends and relations, for this too is fiction, and the Richard’s character shares traits of others, including myself. The narrator, the Rajiv’s character, I should add is not myself, though there are similarities. He is developed from a character who appeared in both Acts of Faith and Days of Despair, though under another name in those books. Rajiv in the latter is an Indian Prime Minister, though that novel, written after the Indo-Lanka Accord, is too emotional to be easily read.

Manorani hardly figures in The Limits of Love. A Ranjan Wijesinghe does, and also a Ronnie Gooneratne, but of more interest doubtless will be Ranil and Anil, two rival Ministers under President Dicky, both of whom die towards the end of the book. Neither, I should add, bears the slightest resemblance to Ranil Wickremesinghe. His acolytes may try to trace elements of him in one or other of the characters, for I remember being told that Lalith Athulathmudali’s reaction to Acts of Faith was indignation that he had not appeared in it.

Fiction has, I hope, the capacity to bring history to life, and the book should be read as fiction. Doubtless there will be criticism of the characterisation, and of course efforts to relate this to real people, but I hope this will not detract from the spirit of the story, and the depiction of the subtlety of political motives as well as relationships.

The novel is intended to heighten understanding of a strange period in our history, when society was much less fragmented than it is today, when links between people were based on blood as much as on shared interests. But I hope that in addition it will raise awareness of the character of the ebullient hero who was abducted and killed 35 years ago.

The film has roused interest in his life, though through a focus on his death. The novel will I hope heighten awareness of his brilliance and the range of his activity in all too short a life.

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SL Navy helping save kidneys

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By Admiral Ravindra C Wijegunaratne

WV, RWP& Bar, RSP, VSV, USP,

NI (M) (Pakistan), ndc, psn, Bsc (Hons) (War Studies) (Karachi) MPhil (Madras)

Former Navy Commander and Former Chief of Defense Staff

Former Chairman, Trincomalee Petroleum Terminals Ltd

Former Managing Director Ceylon Petroleum Corporation

Former High Commissioner to Pakistan

Navy’s efforts to eradicate Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD) from North Central and North Western Provinces:

• Navy’s homegrown technology provides more than Ten million litres of clean drinking / cooking water to the public free of charge.

• Small project Navy started on 22nd December 2015 providing great results today.

• 1086 Reverse Osmosis (RO) Water purification plants installed to date – each plant producing 10,000 litres of clean drinking water – better quantity than bottled water.

• Project continued for 10 years under seven Navy Commanders highlights the importance of “INSTITUTIONALIZING” a worthy project.

What you see on the map of Sri Lanka (Map 1) are RO water purification plants installed by SLN.SLN is famous for its improvisations and innovations in fighting LTTE terrorists out at sea. The Research and Development Institute of SLN started to use its knowledge and expertise for “Nation Building” when conflict was over in May 2009. On request of the Navy Commander, R and D unit of SLN, under able command of Commander (then) MCP Dissanayake, an Indian trained Marine Engineer, embarked on a programme to build a low- cost RO plant.

The Chronic Kidney Disease was spreading in North Central Province like a “wildfire “in 2015, mainly due to consumption of contaminated water. To curb the situation, providing clean drinking and cooking water to the public was the need of the hour.

The Navy had a non-public fund known as “Naval Social Responsibility Fund “(NSR) started by former Navy Commander Admiral DWAS Dissanayake in 2010, to which all officers and sailors contributed thirty rupees (Rs 30) each month. This money was used to manufacture another project- manufacturing medicine infusion pumps for Thalassemia patients. Thalassemia Medicine Infusion pumps manufactured by SLN R and D Unit. With an appropriately 50,000 strong Navy, this fund used to gain approximately Rupees 1.5 million each month- sufficient funds to start RO water purification plant project.

Studies on the spreading of CKD, it was very clear of danger to the people of North central and North Western provinces, especially among farmers, in this rice producing province. The detailed studies on this deadly disease by a team led by Medical experts produced the above map (see Map 2) indicating clear and present danger. Humble farmers in “the Rice Bowl” of Sri Lanka become victims of CDK and suffer for years with frequent Dialysis Treatments at hospitals and becoming very weak and unable to work in their fields.

The Navy took ten years to complete the project, under seven Navy Commanders, namely Admiral Ravi Wijegunaratne, Admiral Travis Sinniah, Admiral Sirimevan Ranasinghe, Admiral Piyal De Silva, Admiral Nishantha Ulugethenna, Admiral Priyantha Perera, present Navy Commander Kanchana Banagoda. Total cost of the project was approximately Rs. 1.260 million. Main contributors to the project were the Presidential Task Force to Eradicate CDK (under the then President Mithripala Sirisena), Naval Social Responsibility Fund, MTV Gammedda, individual local and foreign donors and various organisations. Their contributions are for a very worthy cause to save the lives of innocent people.

The Navy’s untiring effort showed the World what they are capable of. The Navy is a silent force. What they do out at sea has seen only a few. This great effort by the Navy was also noticed by few but appreciated by humble people who are benefited every day to be away from deadly CKD. The Reverse Osmosis process required power. Each plant consumes approximately Rs 11,500 worth power from the main grid monthly. This amount brought down to an affordable Rs 250 per month electricity bill by fixing solar panels to RO plant building roofs. Another project to fix medical RO plants to hospitals having Dialysis machines. SLN produced fifty medical RO plants and distributed them among hospitals with Dialysis Machines. Cost for each unit was Rs 1.5 million, where an imported plant would have cost 13 million rupees each. Commodore (E) MCP Dissanayake won the prize for the best research paper in KDU international Research Conference 2021 for his research paper to enhance RO plant recovery from 50% to 75%. He will start this modification to RO plants soon making them more efficient. Clean drinking water is precious for mankind.

Thalassemia Medicine Infusion pumps manufactured by SLN R and D Unit

The Navy has realised it very well. In our history, King Dutugemunu (regained from 161 BC to 137 BC), united the country after 40 years and developed agriculture and Buddhism. But King Dutugemunu was never considered a god or deified. However, King Mahasen (277 to 304 AD) who built more than 16 major tanks was considered a god after building the Minneriya tank.

The people of the North Central Province are grateful to the Navy for providing them with clean drinking and cooking water free of charge daily. That gratitude is for saving them and their children from deadly CKD.

Well done Our Navy! Bravo Zulu!

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