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“I offer to resign” on Premadasa’s allegations of cabinet leaks and the 1962 coup d’etat

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(Excerpted from Memoirs of a Cabinet Secretary by BP Peiris)

At about this time, one Premadasa (later President R. Premadasa), a UNP member of the Colombo Municipal Council, whom I did not know and whom I had not met or seen, made a speech in one of our public parks where he stated that, within five minutes of the conclusion of Sirimavo’s Cabinet meetings, the UNP had a full account of the discussions and the decisions reached at the meeting, but went on to add that they did not get their information from Cabinet officials.

I thoughts it was extremely kind of the gentlemen to pay me and my staff this unsolicited compliment. The next day the Times of Ceylon carried the speech on its front page, including the compliment paid to us. A few days later, a friend asked me whether I had read the attack on me in the Tribune, a paper to which I did not subscribe and did not read. He lent me his copy. The line that the Tribune took was that both Premadasa and the Times of Ceylon were wrong in their information, that Cabinet secrets leaked to the UNP through the top official (myself) in the Cabinet office, who “haunted the pub on the fringe of Colombo 1” – a reference to the Automobile Association of Ceylon of which I was an Honorary Life Member and a member of the Bar and Entertainments Committee – and that it was at this pub that the leaks took place.

The writer went on to add that, if the leaks were to be stopped, the top official should be removed. I was not going to take this insult lying down. A few minutes before the next Cabinet meeting, I told the Prime Minister the gist of the article and that I would not be attending the meeting if she had no confidence in me. I said I would resign. She said “Don’t be silly, Mr Peiris”. I told her that I was not placing on her the burden of coming to a decision and obtained her permission to raise the matter of confidence before the entire Cabinet.

When the Cabinet met, she informed the Ministers that I had a personal matter to raise, and when I finished reading the article aloud and said that I was prepared to go immediately to Queen’s House with my resignation, the following conversation took place between Felix Dias and myself:

F. D. Mr Peiris, why do you assume that the article refers to you?

B. P. Sir, I am the top official of the Cabinet Office, and the reference to the pub on the fringe of Colombo 1 is to the Automobile Association of which I am a member and which I visit fairly frequently.

F. D. Mr Peiris, don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers these days. I speak for the entire Cabinet when I say that we have absolute confidence in your integrity and loyalty.

B. P. Sir, I thank you for that. The matter may therefore be regarded as closed. And so, I continued as an officer of the Cabinet.

Towards the end of 1961, there was a whisper of a series of strikes planned for the new year with a view to paralyzing the Government. Strikes in the public and private sector took place on January 5, 1962. Valuable equipment at Radio Ceylon was damaged and army technicians were put on the job of restoring the radio and transmissions. The strike spread to the Port of Colombo, the Transport Board and the commercial banks, and the Cabinet was meeting almost daily to review the situation to prevent it spreading, particularly to the plantations. The Governor-General, a former Civil Defence Commissioner, was again given complete control of operations.

In the midst of its other problems, the Government had to meet a new situation. In the late Prime Minister’s assassination case, the trial judge had convicted one accused of murder and two others of conspiracy to murder, and had sentenced all three accused to death. On appeal, the Court of Criminal Appeal, on an interpretation of the law, converted the sentence on the charge of conspiracy, from death to one of life imprisonment. The Government was annoyed. It decided that the law should be clearly stated with retrospective effect, namely, that the penalty for conspiracy to murder should be, not life imprisonment, but death.

The Capital Punishment (Special Provisions) Bill was accordingly drafted by the Legal Draftsman under vehement protest and presented in the House of Representatives. It was expected that all three readings would be moved in one day and the item was placed at the top of the Order Paper. A week later this dropped to the bottom because all the accused appealed to the Privy Council. The Crown did the same. Both applications were for special leave to appeal and leave was refused in both cases. The matter became stale and, I believe, the Bill was allowed to lapse.

Another amazing proposal came before the Cabinet in February 1962.1 referred earlier to the continuance in force of certain emergency regulations to enable the detention of certain persons suspected of being connected with a coup to overthrow the Government. It was in the previous month, January, that the proposed coup had failed because someone, at the last moment, got the jitters and spilt the beans. At midnight, a Deputy Inspector-General of Police was arrested. In the succeeding days, other arrests of top ranking officers of the Army, Navy, Police, Civil Service and a few civilians followed. The total number arrested was twenty-nine.

How were they to be tried and what was the punishment to be meted out to them? In some countries today I suppose they would have been shot without trial. But here, Sirimavo had assured the people that she was following the policies of her late husband and that her government was democratic with an admixture of socialism. The Government decided to make drastic and unusual changes in the law.

I have never seen a man more unhappy than Percy de Silva, the Legal Draftsman, who was at this time, preparing, with angry curses under his breath, draft after draft, as fresh instructions, not always consistent one with another, reached him daily from the Government.

Here is a summary of the changes in the law which the Legal Draftsman was directed to put into proper legal form. Instead of a trial by jury, there should be a Trial-at-Bar, that is, a trial before three Judges of the Supreme Court sitting without a jury. There should be no preliminary magisterial inquiry and proceedings should be initiated in the Supreme Court. A Bench is normally appointed by the Chief Justice but, in this case, that power should be vested in the Minister of Justice. The penalty for the offence might be a sentence of death. Bail should be refused unless authorized by the Attorney-General. Confessions made to police officers should be made admissible in evidence.

The trial against any of the accused persons could be commenced and continued in his absence. The judgment of the Court should be declared to be final, and the right of the accused, if convicted, to appeal to the Court of Criminal Appeal should be taken away. The right of the subject to appeal to Her Majesty would also have been taken away if the Government only had the power. And, when everything was over and the accused had been convicted (or acquitted) these new changes in the law should cease to have any effect and the old law should automatically revive.

This atrocious piece of draft legislation shook the lawyers both in Hultsdorp and the outstations who still had respect for the sanctity of the law and for fair play and justice. After these proposals had been discussed by the Cabinet and finally approved, the Legal Draftsman was given two days time to prepare the complicated piece of legislation.

Wild rumours were gathering momentum involving the Governor-General Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, Dudley Senanayake, Sir John and anyone else on whom the scandalmongers desired to use the tar brush. At the Cabinet meeting just referred to, the Prime Minister asked me whether the Governor-General had inquired from me whether he had the power to dissolve Parliament without her advice. How this got out I do not know. I can only assume that the conversation that the Governor-General had with me on the telephone had been tapped. And that was not the first time he had discussed matters constitutional with me.

I told the Prime Minister that that was not what the Governor-General had asked me. He had asked me to look up my books and let him know whether he had the constitutional power to dismiss his Prime Minister and his entire Cabinet and I had advised him that he had such power but would have to find, without going to a general election, an alternative government which would take responsibility for his decision to dismiss. The Prime Minister asked me how long ago that was and I said it was about three months. She asked me what his reason could be for asking me the question.

I told her that when the Governor-General asked me a question, it was not open to me to ask him another, that he had put constitutional questions to me before, and that it was probably because he thought that I knew my subject. In a ruminative mood at home, it struck me that, some months before, W. Dahanayake, M. P. had made a public speech to the effect that the country was going to the dogs because of mismanagement by the Government and that it was time that the Governor-General sacked the whole bunch and formed a National Government. On inquiry from the newspapers, I was told that this speech was published in the Times of Ceylon of October 2, 1961, and I told the Prime Minister so; it did not appear to me have any connection with the coup.

On February 13, Felix Dias, Minister of Finance, made what he called a factual statement on the coup d’etat, He stated that the whole purpose of the coup was undoubtedly to overthrow the Government on the night of January 27. The statement continued: “The Government takes a very serious view of the abortive coup d’ etat. It is a comforting thought that most of the regular units of the army were unaffected by the spirit of disloyalty that manifested itself among certain officers who have been involved. In the Police too, it is fortunate that a large number of loyal officers remain who are capable of giving valuable service to the Government at this critical time. It is particularly satisfactory that the majority of the rank and file, both in the army and in the police remain completely loyal to the Government and the country.”

He added that the opportunity must not however be lost to effect complete and radical reforms in the Police Service, in the Armed Services and indeed in the public service. Many Army officers and Police officers who had participated in the coup had bitterly regretted their action and one army officer committed suicide in consequence of his participation. It was essential that deterrent punishment of a severe character should be imposed upon all those who were guilty of this attempt to inflict violence and bloodshed on innocent people throughout the country for pursuit of reactionary aims and objectives. The investigations would therefore proceed to their logical end. The Government was determined to do its duty by the people.

In view of this factual statement and the floating rumours, Sir Oliver voluntarily submitted himself to interrogation, but the Police did not dare to question Her Majesty’s representative. My own humble opinion at the time was that the step he took was most unbecoming of the office he held and the respect due to him. Efforts were now made to remove him from office. It was said that the Queen’s permission had been sought to question the Governor-General on the part he was alleged to have taken in the coup, and that a reply had been received that such a procedure would be unusual and unconventional. The next move was to have the Governor-General removed from office.

Here, the Queen had to act on the advice of Her Prime Minister of Ceylon and the Prime Minister advised removal. At very short notice, Sir Oliver’s successor was announced from the Palace – Mr William Gopallawa, M.B.E., our Ambassador in Washington. Whatever Sir Oliver’s other faults may have been, there was no doubt that he carried his office with great dignity during his long term of nearly eight years as the Queen’s representative in the land. After a long and unique record of distinguished service to his country in many capacities, he took his final bow and left Queen’s House on March 1, 1962.

The new Governor-General was sworn in the next day. His Excellency announced that he would give up the trappings of office, that is, the official uniform, the helmet and plumes, the sword and medals, and that he would wear a plain cloth and banian.

It was said that the Queen’s permission was again sought to question Sir Oliver after he ceased to be Governor-General and that the Government had received a reply from a constitutional sovereign that she was unable to intervene in a matter between the Government of Ceylon and a private citizen but that she hoped that no steps would be taken which would bring dishonour on the high office of Governor-General in view of possible repercussions in other parts of Her Commonwealth. The Government ordered that Queen’s House staff should be questioned first and that Sir John Kotelawala, Mr Dudley Senanayake, Mr J. R. Jayewardene, Mr Philip Gunawardena and Dr N. M. Perera be also questioned.

I was then asked whether I had any objection to making a statement to the police regarding Sir Oliver’s question to me about his constitutional powers in the dismissal of a cabinet. I said I had none and my statement was recorded on February 28,1962. I was placed in the most embarrassing position because the Prime Minister told me that my statement to the Police had been shown to Sir Oliver, who then had made a statement somewhat as follows:

I have known Peiris from the days when I was Civil Defence Commissioner and he was an Assistant Legal Draftsman. He is a straight and honest man of unquestioned integrity. If Peiris says that I spoke to him on the telephone and asked him this question, I will accept his statement as true. But the fact is that I did not speak to Peiris. It is quite likely that someone else put the question to him imitating my voice.

Sir Oliver, on relinquishing office, left Ceylon on a well-deserved holiday. The Hindu of March 2, 1962, carried the following editorial:

The cryptic announcement from Colombo of the appointment of Mr Gopallawa as the Governor-General of Ceylon in succession to Sir Oliver Goonetilleke only serves to deepen the mystery surrounding the Island’s affairs for some time. Stringent Press censorship has made matters worse and it may be anybody’s guess what is happening and why. There has been no announcement so far that Sir Oliver, an elder statesman commanding considerable respect within the country and outside, had offered to resign. When his name was stated to have been mentioned by suspects interrogated in connection with the recent reported attempt at a coup d’etat, he had offered to be questioned.

The Government spokesman who should have known the facts expressed disbelief in the suggestion that the Governor-General had anything to do with the attempted coup and apparently viewed with disfavour Opposition demands for his removal. He had mentioned that the Queen had been informed by cable of the position. The Governor-General of Ceylon is appointed by Her Majesty, and, under the 1947 Order in Council, may exercise in the Island, during her Majesty’s pleasure, such powers, authorities and functions as are assigned to him. His appointment is also to be made on the advice of the Prime Minister of the Dominion.

Are we to infer that a sufficiently strong case exists for the Ceylon Government to advise the Queen to order the removal from office of Sir Oliver and the appointment of a successor recommended by the Ceylon Prime Minister? Since other prominent names are also said to have been mentioned by suspects, notably Sir John Kotelawala and Mr Dudley Senanayake, former Prime Ministers, the drastic action in one case can only set speculation rife and add to the prevailing uncertainty in the Island.

The long and heated debate in the Ceylon House of Representatives a fortnight ago has been the only source of information from which any inference could be drawn about the attempted coup and its possible ramifications. And sections of the Opposition did not waste this opportunity to make political points of “right” and “left”. With censorship clamped down, and the prolonged emergency, the people of Ceylon are perhaps the most mystified by the extraordinary developments in the country.

From the assassination of Prime Minister Bandaranaike two years ago to the unprecedented removal from office of the Governor-General this week, it has been a crisis to crisis existence for the hard-pressed Island. The people can well see in the recent developments not only a threat to the stability of the Island’s administration, but to their democratic right to choose their Government and remove it. If inflation, unemployment and a strike-wave had struck at their economic well-being, the attempted coup and the subsequent emergency Bill seeking to bypass judicial processes and the rule of law should be causes for even greater disquiet.

It is no doubt the prime duty of the Government to unearth the conspiracy to overthrow the Government by force, if there had been such a one. But in the process, all care should be taken to preserve the spirit as well as the letter of democracy, and also steer the country clear of any kind of involvement in cold war politics. The suggestion of foreign inspiration for the coup has been here, but so many suggestions have been made in this context, some mostly tactical, that one would hope this too belongs to that category.

And now, the Bill to deal with the coup suspects, which the Legal Draftsman was asked to prepare within two days, was presented in Parliament under the title of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Bill. It was severely criticized by all parties of the Opposition. Those in favour of the Bill argued that our former British masters did not foresee a situation where evil men would conspire to arrest the Prime Minister and other ministers and confine them in a dungeon, and that it was necessary to bring the law up to date.

Against this, it was asked why it was proposed to change the law, to empower the Minister of Justice instead of the Chief Justice to nominate the Bench for the proposed Trial-at-Bar. One member of Parliament pleaded that, for the sake of the integrity of our courts of law, the normal process of the selection of the Bench should be left to the discretion of the Chief Justice. The Honourable member for Galle pointed out that you may not be able to stop an appeal to the Queen.

It was also pointed out in Parliament that what the Government was trying to do was to enact a new offence, relate it back to the time of the commission of the offence, and charge the offenders. One remember commented “If this Bill gets into the Statute Book in the form in which it is presented, we would become the laughing stock of the World. It is possible that this matter might be taken up by the United Nations or by the International Jurists or even by our constitutional experts.”

On behalf of the Government, Finance Minister Felix Dias admitted that there were many things in the Bill of an unusual character. He appealed to the members not to oppose the Bill. The debate dragged on.

The General Council of Advocates in Ceylon passed the following resolution:

The General Council of Advocates in Ceylon vehemently opposes the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Bill in that

(1) it removes the safeguards which are designed to ensure as far as possible a fair investigation and a fair trial;

(2) it empowers the Minister of Justice to choose a Bench of Judges for a particular case; and

(3) it deprives an accused person of the cherished and fundamental right of appeal.

The Bill, after a long debate, was passed by both Houses and came on the Statute Book as the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act, No 1 of 1962.

The International Commission of Jurists in Geneva took notice of the new law. They expressed “profound concern” at legislation in Ceylon following the alleged attempted coup. Many of the provisions of this Law, they said, were entirely contrary to the generally accepted principles of the rule of law. The Commission asked permission for an observer to attend the trials, expected shortly, of those arrested in connection with the coup. The Commission noted that investigations into the coup were being conducted by members of the Cabinet themselves with police approval. They added that, apart from the irregularity of this procedure, a specially passed emergency regulation prohibited the persons arrested from being visited by lawyers.

Sir Leslie Munro, Secretary-General of the Commission, commented on some features of the law which were open to criticism. These included the retrospective nature of the law, the provision that hearsay evidence may be taken into account and denial of the right of appeal.

I pointed out to the Cabinet that the validity of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act was likely to be contested in court as the Act

one Official Language from January 1, 1961 ( the point was raised at the first trial). If the point succeeded, all the “culprits” would escape. And, if the point was upheld in one case, it would apply to all the other laws passed since January 1,1961. The Cabinet thanked me for bringing the matter to their notice, left an agenda of forty-two items aside, and discussed the problem.

Ministers said that they could not take a risk in this case and that, if there were any doubts as regards the correctness of the law, the doubts ought to be removed by fresh legislation. After, discussion, the Minister of Justice was told to a have Bill drafted immediately to clarify the position. The Bill was drafted, the Parliamentary Session was about to come to an end, and the Government hesitated to present the Bill because of its serious political implications. The Bill validated all Acts passed in English and proposed to enact that “Notwithstanding anything in any other law, the English language may continue to be used for the purpose of drafting legislation to be enacted after the date of the commencement of this Act until such date as my be determined by the Cabinet of Ministers”.

The Opposition and the Tamil community would have been given a powerful weapon for attacking the Government. Why was the Bill restricted to the English language? Why not the Tamil language? Is the Official Language Act unenforceable, and if it is impracticable to enforce it, why not repeal it? And numerous other arguments with the only object of embarrassing the Government.

The Prime Minister, a blunt and outspoken woman said “This is what happens when we try to go too fast”. Felix Dias said that he had consulted the Attorney-General Jansze who had advised “Let lying dogs sleep” meaning, do not introduce the Bill. Some of the Ministers attacked the bona fides of the Attorney-General in giving that opinion. They thought that the Attorney-General was trying to leave a loophole to allow the coup suspects to escape. One Minister attacked his honesty as being anti-Government.

I have known Jansze for several years. He was an honest, upright and God-fearing man, an honest and honourable lawyer who did not hesitate to give his opinion on a matter of law and did not care whether that opinion suited the party asking it or not. In view of the Attorney-General’s opinion, the Government decided not to proceed with the Bill.

Under the new Act, No. 1 of 1962, the Minister of Justice, named the Judges for the Trial-at-Bar of the coup suspects – T. S. Fernando, L. B. de Silva and Sri Skanda Rajah. Charges were served on the accused and the preliminary steps taken to hold the trial.

At the trial, Attorney-General Jansze led for the Crown with Solicitor-General Tennekoon and several Crown Counsel. For the defence, there appeared G. G. Ponnambalam, E. G. Wickramanayake, H. W. Jayewardene, A. H. C. de Silva, all Queen’s Counsel, supported by an array of juniors. It was rumoured that defence counsel were appearing pro deo. Objection was taken to the jurisdiction of the court on the ground that it was wrongly constituted and the objection was upheld. The Judges proved, if proof were at all necessary, that the Supreme Court is not and never had been, a stooge of the Executive. In upholding the objection, the court said:

For reasons which we have endeavoured to indicate above, we are of opinion that because:

(a) the power of nomination conferred on the Minister is an interference

with the exercise by the Judges of the Supreme Court of the strict judicial power of the State vested in them by virtue of their appointment in terms of section 52 of the Ceylon (Constitution) Order in Council, 1946, or in derogation thereof, and

(b) the power of nomination is one which has hitherto been invariably exercised by the Judicature as being part of the exercise of the judicial power of the State, and cannot be reposed in anyone outside the Judicature, Section 9 of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act, No. 1 of 1962, is ultra vires the Constitution.

(To be continued)



Features

Trump’s Venezuela gamble: Why markets yawned while the world order trembled

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The world’s most powerful military swoops into Venezuela, in the dead of night, captures a sitting President, and spirits him away to face drug trafficking charges in New York. The entire operation, complete with at least 40 casualties, was announced by President Trump as ‘extraordinary’ and ‘brilliant.’ You’d think global financial markets would panic. Oil prices would spike. Stock markets would crash. Instead, something strange happened: almost nothing.

Oil prices barely budged, rising less than 2% before settling back. Stock markets actually rallied. The US dollar remained steady. It was as if the world’s financial markets collectively shrugged at what might be the most brazen American military intervention since the 1989 invasion of Panama.

But beneath this calm surface, something far more significant is unfolding, a fundamental reshaping of global power dynamics that could define the next several decades. The story of Trump’s Venezuela intervention isn’t really about Venezuela at all. It’s about oil, money, China, and the slow-motion collapse of the international order we’ve lived under since World War II. (Figure 1)

The Oil Paradox

Venezuela sits on the world’s largest proven oil reserves, more than Saudi Arabia, more than Russia. We’re talking about 303 billion barrels. This should be one of the wealthiest nations on Earth. Instead, it’s an economic catastrophe. Venezuela’s oil production has collapsed from 3.5 million barrels per day in the late 1990s to less than one million today, barely 1% of global supply (Figure 1). Years of corruption, mismanagement, and US sanctions have turned treasure into rubble. The infrastructure is so degraded that even if you handed the country to ExxonMobil tomorrow, it would take a decade and hundreds of billions of dollars to fix.

This explains why oil markets barely reacted. Traders looked at Venezuela’s production numbers and basically said: “What’s there to disrupt?” Meanwhile, the world is drowning in oil. The global market has a surplus of nearly four million barrels per day. American production alone hit record levels above 13.8 million barrels daily. Venezuela’s contribution simply doesn’t move the needle anymore (Figure 1).

But here’s where it gets interesting. Trump isn’t just removing a dictator. He’s explicitly taking control of Venezuela’s oil. In his own words, the country will “turn over” 30 to 50 million barrels, with proceeds controlled by him personally “to ensure it is used to benefit the people of Venezuela and the United States.” American oil companies, he promised, would “spend billions of dollars” to rebuild the infrastructure.

This isn’t subtle. One energy policy expert put it bluntly: “Trump’s focus on Venezuelan oil grants credence to those who argue that US foreign policy has always been about resource extraction.”

The Real Winners: Defence and Energy

While oil markets stayed calm, defence stocks went wild. BAE Systems jumped 4.4%, Germany’s Rheinmetall surged 6.1%. These companies see what others might miss, this isn’t a one-off. If Trump launches military operations to remove leaders he doesn’t like, there will be more.

Energy stocks told a similar story. Chevron, the only U.S. oil major currently authorised to operate in Venezuela, surged 10% in pre-market trading. ExxonMobil, ConocoPhillips, and oil services companies posted solid gains. Investors are betting on lucrative reconstruction contracts. Think Iraq after 2003, but potentially bigger.

The catch? History suggests they might be overly optimistic. Iraq’s oil sector was supposed to bounce right back after Saddam Hussein fell. Twenty years later, it still hasn’t reached its potential. Afghanistan received hundreds of billions in reconstruction spending, most of which disappeared. Venezuela shares the same warning signs: destroyed infrastructure, unclear property rights, volatile security, and deep social divisions.

China’s Venezuela Problem

Here’s where the story gets geopolitically explosive. China has loaned Venezuela over $60 billion, since 2007, making Venezuela China’s biggest debtor in Latin America. How was Venezuela supposed to pay this back? With oil. About 80% of Venezuelan oil exports were going to China, often at discounted rates, to service this debt.

Now Trump controls those oil flows. Venezuelan oil will now go “through legitimate and authorised channels consistent with US law.” Translation: China’s oil supply just got cut off, and good luck getting repaid on those $60 billion in loans.

This isn’t just about one country’s debt. It’s a demonstration of American power that China cannot match. Despite decades of economic investment and diplomatic support, China couldn’t prevent the United States from taking over. For other countries considering Chinese loans and partnerships, the lesson is clear: when push comes to shove, Beijing can’t protect you from Washington.

But there’s a darker flip side. Every time the United States weaponizes the dollar system, using control over oil sales, bank transactions, and trade flows as a weapon, it gives countries like China more reason to build alternatives. China has been developing its own international payment system for years. Each American strong-arm tactic makes that project look smarter to countries that fear they might be next.

The Rules Are for Little People

Perhaps the most significant aspect of this episode isn’t economic, it’s legal and political. The United States launched a military operation, captured a President, and announced it would “run” that country indefinitely. There was no United Nations authorisation. No congressional vote. No meaningful consultation with allies.

The UK’s Prime Minister emphasised “international law” while waiting for details. European leaders expressed discomfort. Latin American countries split along ideological lines, with Colombia’s President comparing Trump to Hitler. But nobody actually did anything. Russia and China condemned the action as illegal but couldn’t, or wouldn’t, help. The UN Security Council didn’t even meet, because everyone knows the US would just veto any resolution.

This is what scholars call the erosion of the “rules-based international order.” For decades after World War II, there was at least a pretense that international law mattered, that sovereignty meant something. Powerful nations bent those rules when convenient, but they tried to maintain appearances.

Trump isn’t even pretending. And that creates a problem: if the United States doesn’t follow international law, why should Russia in Ukraine? Why should China regarding Taiwan? Why should anyone?

What About the Venezuelan People?

Lost in all the analysis are the actual people of Venezuela. They’ve suffered immensely. Inflation is 682%, the highest in the world. Nearly eight million Venezuelans have fled. Those who remain often work multiple jobs just to survive, and their cupboards are still bare. The monthly minimum wage is literally 40 cents.

Many Venezuelans welcomed Maduro’s removal. He was a brutal dictator whose catastrophic policies destroyed the country. But they’re deeply uncertain about what comes next. As one Caracas resident put it: “What we don’t know is whether the change is for better or for worse. We’re in a state of uncertainty.”

Trump’s explicit focus on oil control, his decision to work with Maduro’s own Vice President, rather than democratic opposition leaders, and his promise that American companies will “spend billions”, all of this raises uncomfortable questions. Is this about helping Venezuelans, or helping American oil companies?

The Bigger Picture

Financial markets reacted calmly because the immediate economic impacts are limited. Venezuela’s oil production is already tiny. The country’s bonds were already in default. The direct market effects are manageable. But markets might miss the forest for the trees.

This intervention represents something bigger: a fundamental shift in how powerful nations behave. The post-Cold War era, with its optimistic talk of international cooperation and rules-based order, was definitively over. We’re entering a new age of imperial power politics.

In this new world, military force is back on the table. Economic leverage will be used more aggressively. Alliance relationships will become more transactional. Countries will increasingly have to choose sides between competing power blocs, because the middle ground is disappearing.

The United States might win in the short term, seizing control of Venezuela’s oil, demonstrating military reach, showing China the limits of its influence. But the long-term consequences remain uncertain. Every country watching is drawing conclusions about what it means for them. Some will decide they need to align more closely with Washington to stay safe. Others will conclude they need to build alternatives to American-dominated systems to stay independent.

History will judge whether Trump’s Venezuela gambit was brilliant strategy or reckless overreach. What we can say now is that the comfortable assumptions of the past three decades, that might not be right, that international law matters, that economic interdependence prevents conflict, no longer hold.

Financial markets may have yawned at Venezuela. But they might want to wake up. The world just changed, and the bill for that change hasn’t come due yet. When it does, it won’t be measured in oil barrels or bond prices. It will be measured in the kind of world we all have to live in, and whether it’s more stable and prosperous, or more dangerous and divided.

That’s a question worth losing sleep over.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

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Living among psychopaths

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Bob (not his real name) who worked in a large business organisation was full of new ideas. He went out of his way to help his colleagues in difficulties. His work attracted the attention of his superiors and they gave him a free hand to do his work. After some time, Bob started harassing his female colleagues. He used to knock against them in order to kick up a row. Soon he became a nuisance to the entire staff. When the female colleagues made a complaint to the management a disciplinary inquiry was conducted. Bob put up a weak defence saying that he had no intention to cause any harm to the females on the staff. However, he was found guilty of harassing the female colleagues. Accordingly his services were terminated.

Those who conducted the disciplinary inquiry concluded that Bob was a psychopath. According to psychologists, a psychopath is a person who has a serious and permanent mental illness that makes him behave in a violent or criminal way. Psychologists believe that one per cent of the people are psychopaths who have no conscience. You may have come across such people in films and novels. The film The Silence of the Lambs portrayed a serial killer who enjoyed tormenting his innocent victims. Apart from such fictional characters, there are many psychopaths in big and small organisations and in society as well. In a reported case Dr Ahmad Suradji admitted to killing more than 40 innocent women and girls. There is something fascinating and also chilling about such people.

People without a conscience are not a new breed. Even ancient Greek philosophers spoke of ‘men without moral reason.’ Later medical professionals said people without conscience were suffering from moral insanity. However, all serial killers and rapists are not psychopaths. Sometimes a man would kill another person under grave and sudden provocation. If you see your wife sleeping with another man, you will kill one or both of them. A world-renowned psychopathy authority Dr Robert Hare says, “Psychopaths can be found everywhere in society.” He developed a method to define and diagnose psychopathy. Today it is used as the international gold standard for the assessment of psychopathy.

No conscience

According to modern research, even normal people are likely to commit murder or rape in certain circumstances. However, unlike normal people, psychopaths have no conscience when they commit serious crimes. In fact, they tend to enjoy such brutal activities. There is no general consensus whether there are degrees of psychopathy. According to Harvard University Professor Martha Stout, conscience is like a left arm, either you have one or you don’t. Anyway psychopathy may exist in degrees varying from very mild to severe. If you feel remorse after committing a crime, you are not a psychopath. Generally psychopaths are indifferent to, or even enjoy, the torment they cause to others.

In modern society it is very difficult to identify psychopaths because most of them are good workers. They also show signs of empathy and know how to win friends and influence people. The sheen may rub off at any given moment. They know how to get away with what they do. What they are really doing is sizing up their prey. Sometimes a person may become a psychopath when he does not get parental love. Those who live alone are also likely to end up as psychopaths.

Recent studies show that genetics matters in producing a psychopath. Adele Forth, a psychology professor at Carleton University in Canada, says callousness is at least partly inherited. Some psychopaths torture innocent people for the thrill of doing so. Even cruelty to animals is an act indulged in by psychopaths. You have to be aware of the fact that there are people without conscience in society. Sometimes, with patience, you might be able to change their behaviour. But on most occasions they tend to stay that way forever.

Charming people

We still do not know whether science has developed an antidote to psychopathy. Therefore remember that you might meet a psychopath at some point in your life. For now, beware of charming people who seem to be more interesting than others. Sometimes they look charismatic and sexy. Be wary of people who flatter you excessively. The more you get to know a psychopath, the more you will understand their motives. They are capable of telling you white lies about their age, education, profession or wealth. Psychopaths enjoy dramatic lying for its own sake. If your alarm bells ring, keep away from them.

According to the Psychiatric Diagnostic Manual, the behaviour of a psychopath is termed as antisocial personality disorder. Today it is also known as sociopath. No matter the name, its hallmarks are deceit and a reckless disregard for others. A psychopath’s consistent irresponsibility begets no remorse – only indifference to the emotional pain others may suffer. For a psychopath other people are always ‘things’ to be duped, used and discarded.

Psychopathy, the incapacity to feel empathy or compassion of any sort or the least twinge of conscience, is one of the more perplexing of emotional defects. The heart of the psychopath’s coldness seems to lie in their inability to make anything more than the shallowest of emotional connections.

Absence of empathy is found in husbands who beat up their wives or threaten them with violence. Such men are far more likely to be violent outside the marriage as well. They get into bar fights and battling with co-workers. The danger is that psychopaths lack concern about future punishment for what they do. As they themselves do not feel fear, they have no empathy or compassion for the fear and pain of their victims.

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By R.S. Karunaratne

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Rebuilding the country requires consultation

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A positive feature of the government that is emerging is its responsiveness to public opinion. The manner in which it has been responding to the furore over the Grade 6 English Reader, in which a weblink to a gay dating site was inserted, has been constructive. Government leaders have taken pains to explain the mishap and reassure everyone concerned that it was not meant to be there and would be removed. They have been meeting religious prelates, educationists and community leaders. In a context where public trust in institutions has been badly eroded over many years, such responsiveness matters. It signals that the government sees itself as accountable to society, including to parents, teachers, and those concerned about the values transmitted through the school system.

This incident also appears to have strengthened unity within the government. The attempt by some opposition politicians and gender misogynists to pin responsibility for this lapse on Prime Minister Dr Harini Amarasuriya, who is also the Minister of Education, has prompted other senior members of the government to come to her defence. This is contrary to speculation that the powerful JVP component of the government is unhappy with the prime minister. More importantly, it demonstrates an understanding within the government that individual ministers should not be scapegoated for systemic shortcomings. Effective governance depends on collective responsibility and solidarity within the leadership, especially during moments of public controversy.

The continuing important role of the prime minister in the government is evident in her meetings with international dignitaries and also in addressing the general public. Last week she chaired the inaugural meeting of the Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka in the aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah. The composition of the task force once again reflects the responsiveness of the government to public opinion. Unlike previous mechanisms set up by governments, which were either all male or without ethnic minority representation, this one includes both, and also includes civil society representation. Decision-making bodies in which there is diversity are more likely to command public legitimacy.

Task Force

The Presidential Task Force to Rebuild Sri Lanka overlooks eight committees to manage different aspects of the recovery, each headed by a sector minister. These committees will focus on Needs Assessment, Restoration of Public Infrastructure, Housing, Local Economies and Livelihoods, Social Infrastructure, Finance and Funding, Data and Information Systems, and Public Communication. This structure appears comprehensive and well designed. However, experience from post-disaster reconstruction in countries such as Indonesia and Sri Lanka after the 2004 tsunami suggests that institutional design alone does not guarantee success. What matters equally is how far these committees engage with those on the ground and remain open to feedback that may complicate, slow down, or even challenge initial plans.

An option that the task force might wish to consider is to develop a linkage with civil society groups with expertise in the areas that the task force is expected to work. The CSO Collective for Emergency Relief has set up several committees that could be linked to the committees supervised by the task force. Such linkages would not weaken the government’s authority but strengthen it by grounding policy in lived realities. Recent findings emphasise the idea of “co-production”, where state and society jointly shape solutions in which sustainable outcomes often emerge when communities are treated not as passive beneficiaries but as partners in problem-solving.

Cyclone Ditwah destroyed more than physical infrastructure. It also destroyed communities. Some were swallowed by landslides and floods, while many others will need to be moved from their homes as they live in areas vulnerable to future disasters. The trauma of displacement is not merely material but social and psychological. Moving communities to new locations requires careful planning. It is not simply a matter of providing people with houses. They need to be relocated to locations and in a manner that permits communities to live together and to have livelihoods. This will require consultation with those who are displaced. Post-disaster evaluations have acknowledged that relocation schemes imposed without community consent often fail, leading to abandonment of new settlements or the emergence of new forms of marginalisation. Even today, abandoned tsunami housing is to be seen in various places that were affected by the 2004 tsunami.

Malaiyaha Tamils

The large-scale reconstruction that needs to take place in parts of the country most severely affected by Cyclone Ditwah also brings an opportunity to deal with the special problems of the Malaiyaha Tamil population. These are people of recent Indian origin who were unjustly treated at the time of Independence and denied rights of citizenship such as land ownership and the vote. This has been a festering problem and a blot on the conscience of the country. The need to resettle people living in those parts of the hill country which are vulnerable to landslides is an opportunity to do justice by the Malaiyaha Tamil community. Technocratic solutions such as high-rise apartments or English-style townhouses that have or are being contemplated may be cost-effective, but may also be culturally inappropriate and socially disruptive. The task is not simply to build houses but to rebuild communities.

The resettlement of people who have lost their homes and communities requires consultation with them. In the same manner, the education reform programme, of which the textbook controversy is only a small part, too needs to be discussed with concerned stakeholders including school teachers and university faculty. Opening up for discussion does not mean giving up one’s own position or values. Rather, it means recognising that better solutions emerge when different perspectives are heard and negotiated. Consultation takes time and can be frustrating, particularly in contexts of crisis where pressure for quick results is intense. However, solutions developed with stakeholder participation are more resilient and less costly in the long run.

Rebuilding after Cyclone Ditwah, addressing historical injustices faced by the Malaiyaha Tamil community, advancing education reform, changing the electoral system to hold provincial elections without further delay and other challenges facing the government, including national reconciliation, all require dialogue across differences and patience with disagreement. Opening up for discussion is not to give up on one’s own position or values, but to listen, to learn, and to arrive at solutions that have wider acceptance. Consultation needs to be treated as an investment in sustainability and legitimacy and not as an obstacle to rapid decisionmaking. Addressing the problems together, especially engagement with affected parties and those who work with them, offers the best chance of rebuilding not only physical infrastructure but also trust between the government and people in the year ahead.

 

by Jehan Perera

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