Features

Insurgency 1971: Memoirs of then PM’s Secretary

Published

2 years ago

2024/08/11

(Excerpted from the autobiography of MDD Peiris)

From about the end of 1970 there was persistent and disturbing information surfacing of a youth uprising. Intelligence was coining in about secret meetings in the night; clandestine classes on far left ideologies; weapons training; the manufacture of hand bombs, etc. By the beginning of 1971 it was becoming clear that something dangerous was afoot.

All this information related to the gradual development of a situation that was unprecedented. In retrospect it could perhaps be said, that because it was unprecedented, the government did not, in those early months, accord to it the serious attention, that in hindsight, it could be said that it warranted. The intelligence services themselves, were able to unearth considerable material, but nobody developed a coherent and comprehensive picture of the ramifications and the magnitude of the problem.

The government reacted to the progressively increasing information that was coming in by setting up a special unit at Temple Trees headed by Mr. S.A. Dissanayake, a former Deputy Inspector General of Police. This unit was gradually staffed with a core of officers drawn from the three services and the police. and it was progressively strengthened with the necessary equipment. During this period the Prime Minister was residing in her own home at Rosmead Place. Temple Trees was only used

for state occasions. Apart from its use for receptions and dinners, visiting dignitaries like Prime Minister Lee Kuan Yew were lodged there.

On the afternoon of April 4, 1971, I had gone to see the Prime Minister with a whole lot of papers. We were working at the dining table at Rosmead Place, when one of the servants came and announced that the Army Commander General Attygalle had come, and that he wished to see the Prime Minister urgently. He was ushered in, and what he had to relate was alarming. Security officers had raided a small meeting of insurgents at Vihara Maha Devi Park in Colombo a few hours before, and the subsequent interrogation of suspects had revealed a plot to storm Rosmead Place, and kill the Prime Minister that very night.

This had been confirmed by another, who had relented at the last moment and given information to the authorities. General Attygalle wanted the Prime Minister to immediately move to Temple Trees, which could be adequately secured. The Prime Minister with her customary calm said “I am not leaving my home, you protect me here.” But the general was adamant. He pointed out the vulnerability of the location of Rosmead Place right at a junction with roads all around it, and with its boundary walls abutting these roads.

In the developing context, he rightly urged that the Prime Minister should leave. I too added my voice to the General’s and Dr. Mackie Ratwatte, her brother and Private Secretary, who came in whilst this conversation was going on added his own weight. We proposed that she stop her work, and get ready to leave immediately. But she was very reluctant to leave the comfort of her home, and it required more effort to get her to at last agree.

All this was to be kept absolutely secret. I gathered my papers and said I was going to office, and that I would be there if needed. The staff at Temple Trees were not informed about the Prime Minister coming there to reside. She was to make the necessary arrangements after she got in. I finished my work and went home late as Usual. I had no role to play in the technicalities of security arrangements. I was on call if necessary. I had a parallel line in my bedroom upstairs from the telephone downstairs, which I used to keep on a low stand near my bed, so that I could reach out and take a call without getting out.

I was fast asleep when the telephone rang. It was around four o’clock in the morning of April 5. At the other end was Mr. Amarasinghe, Additional Private Secretary to the Prime Minister. He was telephoning from Temple Trees. He related in dramatic fashion the information that was coming in about the attack on a number of police stations by the Janatha Vimukti Perumuna. He said that lists had been discovered, with names of prominent people, to be assassinated. He was also kind enough to say that my name “had not yet been found,” on such a list.

This was a great deal to absorb when woken up from deep sleep. I requested Mr. Amarasinghe to inform the Prime Minister that I would be coming to Temple Trees early in the morning, and that until then I would be at home. I knew difficult, and even dangerous days lay ahead; that all normal hours of work and rest were at an end; and that no program of any sort could be planned. One had to adjust to the developing situation.

My little son was just over two years old. Given the uncertainties, I did not want my wife and son to be at home. I knew that if they were away, I would have greater ease of mind. In any case they were unlikely to see much of me. My parents were at home, and we had a servant. We could manage. My wife suggested that we send our son to her parents in Negombo, and that she stay. I firmly rejected this and packed both of them off to her parent’s place later in the day.

When taking these decisions there was the thought at the back of my mind that if I happened to be on some hit list, it was best that I sallied forth to the after-world alone. In any case the contract of marriage with my wife pertained only to this world, and I saw no point in her being put at risk of such a journey to another world. There was also now an innocent two year old without any contract, but possessing only a birth certificate. Now began almost two months of intense work and activity, where any kind of time management was impossible.

The country had to be under curfew for a considerable period of time. At the beginning the curfew hours were quite severe. Normal office and work hours had to be substantially curtailed. I had now to work from Temple Trees. The focal point of administration and security was there. Very senior security personnel including the Navy Commander Admiral Hunter and Chief of Staff Basil Goonesekera, worked from the operations room at Temple Trees. Some Ministers also spent a great deal of their time at Temple Trees.

One of them whom I remember vividly was Dr. N.M. Perera the Minister of Finance. He had a look of shock and disbelief on his face. Much of the time he had a far away look. It was evident that he had been deeply shocked by the turn of events. He was struggling to comprehend something, which at the time he did not understand. I tried occasionally to talk to him, and also ask him whether I could order a cup of tea. Most of the time he just grunted. Conversation seemed to be the last thing on his mind.

Underlying the shock and the gloom from his point of view was the despair that a set of reckless adventurers were jeopardizing a socialist government which had been returned with such a strong mandate, even before the government was one year in office. Most of the Ministers were in a state of fear. They thronged Temple Trees and stayed there. After a while, this constituted a disturbance to the Prime Minister, who thereupon urged them to go and stay in their Ministries.

The security forces and the police were stretched to the limit. The country did not spend any significant amount on defence and security in those times, and was generally unprepared both in equipment and human resources to meet the kind of insurgent threat that they were now suddenly faced with. Therefore, the security that was afforded to Ministers at the time when compared with the security they receive now, was rudimentary. It was no wonder therefore that they tended to congregate at Temple Trees, the safest place available.

A discussion with the Army Commander

The first three or four days were particularly difficult. In addition to combating the sudden attack on about 25 police stations, with intelligence being received of more attacks to come, the Government was in a most difficult situation. Police stations had to be strengthened; troops had to be deployed against identified JVP centres, as intelligence began coming in; main roads, and most importantly bridges had to be secured: public offices had to be guarded; and Ports, harbours and above all airports, including the international airport had to be secured.

With inadequate personnel and equipment. the security forces and the police were under severe strain. Most of them had not slept for days, and some were on the verge of breakdown. The country was under extended hours of curfew, and rumours abounded of an attack on Colombo; about the prospect of some of the main bridges in the city being blown up; and about possible raids on reservoirs and pumping stations like the one at Maligakande.

It was in this environment and background that General Sepala Attygalle the Army Commander telephoned me one morning at Temple Trees. This would have been around the third day of the insurgency. He sounded seriously overwrought. He said that the situation was very bad and that he wanted to see the Prime Minister. This was chilling news. But one had to discipline oneself not to get excited or panic. I told Sepala, that I would certainly arrange for him to see the Prime Minister, but that first I needed to talk to him.

I was working in the administrative building situated to the north of the main building, where the Prime Minister worked from. On top of the administrative building were some bedrooms. Pending the Army Commander’s arrival, I went into the situation room, and got myself briefed on the latest information. It was clear from the briefing that the initial assault had been to an extent countered, although some police stations were lost or had to be abandoned.

The wave of attacks had petered out and the security forces were consolidating. The volunteer forces of the three services had been called up and the increased manpower coming in were helping both operations and morale. The curfew was being strictly enforced, and orders had gone out to shoot any deliberate curfew breakers. The government had already appealed to countries such as India, Pakistan, The United Kingdom and the USA for urgently needed arms, ammunition and equipment.

There were very positive responses from all these countries as well as later China. India and Pakistan were sending helicopters, in addition to other supplies. They were also sending some of their troops to secure the Katunayake and Ratmalana airports, so that our troops could be released from static duties. Our two neighbouring countries acted very fast. I remember Pakistan responding to our request by immediately cabling “Helicopters loading, please indicate landing details.” They were sent in military cargo planes.

We were also urgently buying ammunition and equipment from Singapore. I knew that all this was in the pipeline, and some had actually arrived. The Indian High Commissioner had met the Prime Minister, and after discussions, the Indian Navy threw a naval cordon around the country and intensified naval patrols. I was most keen therefore to talk to Sepala, because I was certain that he did not know of these details. When he arrived, I took him upstairs to one of the bedrooms, and shut the door. We sat on two beds and talked. It was abundantly clear that he had not slept for almost three days. The strain was visible. He was chain smoking and his hands were trembling, a sign of tension, fatigue and sleeplessness. I calmly narrated the briefing I had received from the situation room.

I then updated him on the arrival of the helicopters, troops and equipment. We talked for almost 45 minutes. At the end Sepala decided he did not need to see the Prime Minister. I suggested that he sleep in the room for a few hours. But he had work to do, and left in a much better frame of mind.

Operation Rescue

One of the main problems initially was the inadequacy of personnel, even for static security duties. The Minister of Public Administration and Home Affairs, Mr. Felix Dias Bandaranaike decided that a number of selected senior public servants, who in any case did not have much to do, due to the long curfew hours, could assist security personnel at some of the check points in the city. A roster had been drawn up and they were to report for duty at various places during early evening.

Unfortunately, under the pressure of events someone forgot to co-ordinate this with the security authorities. Some kind of letter was issued to them. But some had not received their letters by the time they were asked to report. We had no national identity cards those days, and there was now the prospect of a number of senior public servants wandering into military check points in the dark, without a shred of identification in a situation when those manning those points were completely unaware of this arrangement, and were themselves tired, tense and edgy.

Very fortunately the Prime Minister came to hear of this at the last moment. She was furious. Already there were deaths enough, and the last thing she wanted to see was a number of senior public servants added to those numbers. On her instructions therefore, we had to quickly organize a fleet of vehicles to send to the various check points and bring these public servants to Temple Trees.

Getting vehicles at such short notice was also not easy. We had to drop everything and engage in operation rescue. To the great relief of all however operation rescue was successfully carried out and a number of bewildered public servants brought to Temple Trees, where most of them spent the night, some of them seated on the steps at the back, overlooking a beautiful lawn and shady trees.

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Features

Power crept into the Sangha and is now tearing it apart

Published

19 hours ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

A file photo of Buddhist monks engaged in a protest

For more than a century, Sri Lankan society has lived with a quiet contradiction at the heart of its religious life. On the one hand, the Buddhist monk is revered as the embodiment of moral discipline, selfrestraint, and renunciation. On the other, the modern monk has become a public figure, political actor, administrator, media personality, and in some cases power broker whose influence extends far beyond the temple. This contradiction has been tolerated, even celebrated, for decades. But recent events, most notably a widely publicised case involving a senior monk accused of grave moral misconduct, have forced the country to confront a painful truth: the institutional conditions that make such scandals possible are not new. They are the predictable outcome of a long historical process that H. L. Seneviratne described with remarkable clarity in The Work of Kings. The moral deterioration visible today is not an aberration. It is the culmination of a centurylong transformation in the identity, function, and authority of the Sangha.

To understand how we arrived at this moment, it is necessary to revisit the argument Seneviratne made nearly three decades ago. His thesis was simple but profound: the modern Sri Lankan monkhood has taken on the ‘work of kings.’ By this he meant that monks, instead of confining themselves to the renunciant life prescribed by the Vinaya, have assumed the secular responsibilities once associated with precolonial kingship, such as protecting the religion, organising society, guiding the nation, and enforcing moral order. This shift, he argued, was not a natural evolution of Buddhist tradition but a modern invention shaped by colonialism, nationalism, and the anxieties of a society struggling to redefine itself in the face of foreign domination. The monk became a symbol of national identity, a guardian of cultural authenticity, and a leader in the struggle for political autonomy. In the process, the boundaries that once separated the monastic from the worldly began to dissolve.

Transformation

The consequences of this transformation were not immediately visible. For decades, the activist monk was celebrated as a patriot, a reformer, and a moral guide. His involvement in education, social welfare, and nationalist mobilisation was seen as a necessary response to colonial pressures and missionary competition. But beneath the surface, the foundations of monastic discipline were slowly eroding. The Vinaya, which had served for centuries as a rigorous framework for regulating monastic life, was increasingly overshadowed by the demands of public engagement. The communal structures that once ensured accountability, senior supervision, collective confession, and the daily rhythms of monastic routine, were weakened by the pressures of modernity. Monks who travelled constantly, managed institutions, or lived independently in urban temples found themselves outside the traditional systems of oversight that had long protected the integrity of the Sangha.

Scandal

It is within this historical context that the recent scandal must be understood. The case shocked the nation not only because of the severity of the allegations but because it shattered the public’s assumption that the monkhood remains a bastion of moral purity. Yet the shock itself reveals a collective denial. For years, Sri Lankan society has been aware, sometimes quietly, sometimes openly—of the growing gap between the ideal of the monk and the realities of modern monastic life. Stories of misconduct, financial irregularities, political manipulation, and abuse of authority have circulated with increasing frequency. But each incident has been treated as an isolated failure, a personal weakness, or an unfortunate exception. What has been missing is recognition that these incidents are symptoms of a deeper structural problem.

Seneviratne’s analysis helps illuminate this problem. When monks take on the work of kings, they inevitably enter domains of power that expose them to temptations the Vinaya was designed to avoid. Handling money, managing institutions, cultivating political patrons, and exercising authority over laypeople create opportunities for ego, ambition, and moral compromise. The monk who becomes a public figure is no longer shielded by the anonymity and humility of the renunciant life. Instead, he becomes a celebrity, a leader, and in some cases an object of uncritical devotion. This elevation brings with it a dangerous form of immunity. Laypeople who revere a monk for his public achievements may hesitate to question his behaviour. Politicians who rely on monastic support may protect him from scrutiny. The media, which often treats monks as moral authorities, may be reluctant to investigate allegations that challenge the sanctity of the robe.

The recent scandal illustrates how these dynamics can converge. The monk at the centre of the case was not an obscure figure. He was a respected preacher, charismatic leader, and head of a prominent institution. His public image was built on years of service, teaching, and community engagement. Yet it was precisely this public stature that allowed him to operate without meaningful oversight. The institutional structures around him, administrators, lay supporters, and junior monks, were either unwilling or unable to challenge his authority. The very qualities that made him a respected figure in the eyes of the public also made him untouchable within his own institution. When allegations finally emerged, they revealed not only personal wrongdoing but a systemic failure of accountability.

Failure that is not unique

This failure is not unique to one temple or one monk. It reflects a broader pattern within the modern Sangha. As monastic institutions have grown in size, wealth, and influence, their internal governance has struggled to keep pace. Many temples operate as semiautonomous entities controlled by a single monk or a small group of monks. Financial transparency is limited, administrative oversight is weak, and the mechanisms for addressing misconduct are often informal or ineffective. The traditional structures of monastic discipline, such as the Sangharama procedures for adjudicating offences, are rarely used in modern contexts, partly because they require collective participation and partly because they are illsuited to the complexities of contemporary institutional life. In practice, this means that monks who wield significant authority can act with little fear of internal sanction.

The politicisation of the Sangha has further complicated matters. Since the midtwentieth century, monks have played an increasingly prominent role in electoral politics, nationalist movements, and public policy debates. This involvement has given them access to political networks that can be mobilised to protect their interests. It has also created a culture in which monks are valued not for their adherence to the Vinaya but for their ability to influence public opinion, mobilise voters, or lend moral legitimacy to political causes. In such an environment, the monk who is politically useful may be shielded from criticism, while the monk who adheres strictly to the renunciant ideal may find himself marginalised or ignored.

The result is a profound distortion of monastic identity. The monk who once sought liberation from worldly attachments is now encouraged to cultivate influence, authority, and public recognition. The monk who once lived under the strict supervision of senior elders now operates in a world where independence is celebrated and oversight is minimal. The monk who once relied on laypeople for basic sustenance now controls vast resources, manages institutions, and commands the loyalty of thousands of followers. This inversion of traditional roles has created a fertile ground for moral deterioration.

Yet it would be a mistake to interpret this deterioration as evidence that the Sangha as a whole is corrupt. Many monks continue to live lives of remarkable discipline, humility, and spiritual dedication. In remote forest monasteries, small village temples, and meditation centres across the country, monks quietly uphold the ancient ideals of the renunciant life. They are not the ones who appear on television, lead political rallies, or manage large institutions. Their work is invisible, their influence subtle, and their commitment unwavering. The crisis facing the Sangha today is not a crisis of individual morality but a crisis of institutional identity. It is the product of a centurylong transformation that has blurred the boundaries between the monastic and the secular, the spiritual and the political, the renunciant and the worldly.

If Sri Lanka is to address this crisis, it must begin by acknowledging the structural nature of the problem. The temptation to treat each scandal as an isolated incident must be resisted. Instead, the country must confront the uncomfortable reality that the modern configuration of monastic life is fundamentally at odds with the principles of the Vinaya. The Sangha cannot simultaneously function as a political force, a social service provider, a media institution, and a spiritual community without compromising its integrity. The more monks are drawn into the world, the more vulnerable they become to the moral dangers that the Buddha warned against.

Reform, therefore, must focus not only on punishing individual offenders but on rethinking the institutional structures that enable misconduct. This includes strengthening internal governance, enhancing financial transparency, restoring the authority of senior elders, and reestablishing the communal practices that once ensured accountability. It also requires a broader cultural shift in how laypeople relate to monks. Blind devotion must give way to informed respect. Reverence must be balanced with responsibility. The robe must be honoured, but it must not be used as a shield against scrutiny.

Seneviratne’s work offers a valuable starting point for this rethinking. His analysis reminds us that the crisis facing the Sangha is not the result of moral decline alone but of historical forces that reshaped the identity of the monkhood. By tracing the evolution of the activist monk, he shows how the Sangha became entangled in the political and social structures of the modern nationstate. This entanglement has brought both benefits and dangers. It has allowed monks to play important roles in education, social welfare, and national development. But it has also exposed them to the corrupting influences of power, wealth, and public acclaim.

The challenge now is to disentangle the Sangha from these influences without undermining its ability to serve society. This will not be easy. The activist monk has become deeply embedded in the cultural and political fabric of the country. Many laypeople expect monks to be leaders, reformers, and guardians of national identity. Politicians rely on monastic support to legitimise their agendas. Media institutions depend on monks for content, commentary, and moral authority. Reversing this trend will require a collective effort from monks, laypeople, and political leaders alike.

Ultimately, the future of the Sangha depends on its ability to reclaim the renunciant ideal that lies at the heart of Buddhist monasticism. This does not mean withdrawing from society entirely, but it does mean reestablishing the boundaries that protect the monk from the dangers of worldly involvement. It means recognising that the true strength of the Sangha lies not in its political influence or institutional power but in its moral authority, its spiritual discipline, and its commitment to the path of liberation. The recent scandal, painful as it is, may serve as a catalyst for this reevaluation. It has exposed the vulnerabilities of the modern monastic system and forced the country to confront the consequences of a centurylong transformation.

To understand how the Vihara Devalegam Act relates to the perceived moral deformation of the clergy, it is necessary to examine how property management, state law, and monastic discipline intersect in the modern era. Historically stemming from the Buddhist Temporalities Ordinance No. 19 of 1931, this act serves as the primary legal framework governing the ‘temporalities’—meaning the secular wealth, extensive landholdings, and material donations belonging to Buddhist temples and shrines. While ancient kings granted these vast tracts of land to support the monkhood’s spiritual pursuits, the modern codification of this law has inadvertently fostered a system where property rights frequently supersede spiritual accountability.

The core of the crisis lies in the commercialisation of the monastic order that this legal framework enables. By treating temple lands as economic assets and vesting absolute administrative power in individual chief monks or lay trustees, the act has contributed to the rise of what critics term a monastic middle class. Access to vast, unregulated financial resources, rent from lands, and corporate donations has fundamentally shifted the focus of certain segments of the clergy away from the traditional path of worldly renunciation and spiritual guidance. Instead, it has driven a preoccupation with business investments, the accumulation of private capital, and luxury lifestyles, which deeply alienates a public looking to the Sangha for moral leadership.

The institutional flaws embedded in the Vihara Devalegam Act find a stark, real-world manifestation in the recent criminal case involving Venerable Pallegama Hemarathana Thero. As the chief priest of Anuradhapura and the custodian of the Atamasthana—the eight highly venerated Buddhist shrines, including the sacred Jaya Sri Maha Bodhi—Hemarathana Thero occupied one of the most powerful and wealthy positions within the Sri Lankan Sangha. His arrest on charges of sexual abuse of a minor girl perfectly illustrates how the structural defects of the Act facilitate not only moral decay but also the systemic obstruction of justice.

The core of this intersection lies in the vast, unaccountable wealth generated by the temporalities of the Anuradhapura shrines. Under the Vihara Devalegam Act, the chief custodian exercises immense, virtually unchecked control over temple revenues, state-backed land management, and millions of rupees in daily donations from millions of global pilgrims. It is precisely this immense financial liquidity that enabled the alleged deployment of vast sums of money to the victim’s family.

Furthermore, the situation underscores the profound policy failures cited regarding the helplessness of the monastic hierarchy and state enforcement. When child protection authorities initially attempted to act, the National Child Protection Authority noted severe delays and institutional resistance, stating they practically had to force the police to execute the arrest. The monk’s immediate retreat to a private hospital in Colombo upon the advancement of the criminal probe, followed by his release on bail, mirrors the exact loop described where wealthy monastics deploy high-priced legal defence teams funded directly or indirectly by their institutional positions. Because the Vihara Devalegam Act does not provide a mechanism for the immediate, unconditional forfeiture of temporal administrative rights upon a criminal indictment, the accused retains his structural power throughout the legal process. The Pallegama Thero scandal stands as definitive proof that without a fundamental overhaul of how temple wealth is legally governed and disciplined, the material benefits guaranteed by ancient temporalities will continue to shield the worst elements of moral deformation from the rule of law.

If Sri Lanka can learn from this moment and if it can recognise the structural roots of the crisis and commit to meaningful reform, then the Sangha may yet emerge stronger, more disciplined, and more faithful to its ancient ideals. But if the country continues to treat each scandal as an isolated failure and if it continues to ignore the deeper institutional problems that Seneviratne identified, then the moral deterioration we see today will only deepen. The work of kings, when performed by monks, carries a heavy price. It is time to decide whether that price is worth paying.

by Professor Amarasiri de Silva

Features

Kondachchi wind farm and battery storage project to boost energy security, says Power Ministry Secretary

Published

19 hours ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

The Power and Energy Ministry’s drive towards energy security and renewable energy expansion received a major boost yesterday with the signing of a tripartite cooperation agreement for the development of the 150 MW Kondachchi Wind Power Project and an integrated Battery Energy Storage System (BESS) in Mannar.

The agreement was signed at the Ministry of Power auditorium under the patronage of Power Minister Anura Karunatilaka and Deputy Power Minister Arkam Ilyas.

Speaking at the event, Ministry Secretary G. M. R. D. Aponsu described the project as a transformative investment that would strengthen the country’s electricity network while supporting Sri Lanka’s transition towards cleaner energy sources.

“The Kondachchi Wind Power Project represents a significant milestone in Sri Lanka’s renewable energy journey. By combining large-scale wind generation with advanced battery energy storage technology, we are creating a more resilient and reliable power system capable of meeting future energy demands while reducing dependence on imported fossil fuels,” Aponsu said.

The project will be developed at Silavathurai in the Kondachchi area of Mannar on lands owned by the Sri Lanka Cashew Corporation. It is expected to utilise some 31 modern wind turbines with a total installed capacity of at least 150 MW.

Aponsu said the inclusion of an integrated battery storage facility would help address the variability associated with wind power generation and ensure stable electricity supply to the national grid.

“The battery energy storage component is a key feature of this project. It will enable the efficient integration of renewable energy into the grid and enhance overall system stability, which is essential as Sri Lanka increases the share of renewables in its energy mix,” he said.

According to the Ministry, the wind farm is expected to generate nearly 525 gigawatt-hours of electricity annually, significantly reducing the country’s expenditure on imported fuel and strengthening national energy security.

The project is also expected to contribute to Sri Lanka’s climate commitments by reducing carbon dioxide emissions by an estimated 372,750 tonnes annually.

“This investment delivers both economic and environmental benefits. It will reduce greenhouse gas emissions, support sustainable development objectives and help Sri Lanka move closer to achieving its renewable energy and climate targets,” Aponsu noted.

The project will be implemented under a Public-Private Partnership (PPP) arrangement using the Build, Own and Operate (BOO) model. The Asian Development Bank is providing technical and financial advisory support through its Transaction Advisory Services programme.

The signing ceremony was attended by Pradeep Perera, Chairman of the National System Operator (Pvt) Ltd., and Takeyo Koike, Head of Market Development and Public-Private Partnership Division of the ADB, among other distinguished guests.

The Ministry said comprehensive Environmental Impact Assessments and avifaunal studies have been undertaken to ensure minimal impacts on bird populations, nearby communities and agricultural lands. A dedicated 220-kilovolt transmission system will also be constructed to connect the project to the national grid.

“The Kondachchi Wind Farm is a strategic national project that will help secure Sri Lanka’s energy future while accelerating the country’s transition towards sustainable and affordable electricity generation,” Aponsu said.

Energy sector experts view the project as one of the most important renewable energy initiatives currently being pursued in Sri Lanka, combining utility-scale wind generation with modern energy storage technology to enhance grid reliability and long-term energy sustainability.

By Ifham Nizam

Features

Saudi Arabia sets new benchmark in Hajj management as 1.7 million pilgrims complete sacred journey

Published

19 hours ago

2026/06/5

Thilina Walpola

Ambassador Al-Kahtani

Interview with Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka

Saudi Arabia has once again demonstrated its unparalleled capacity to manage one of the world’s largest annual religious gatherings, with this year’s Hajj pilgrimage concluding successfully despite extreme temperatures and the immense logistical challenge of accommodating more than 1.7 million pilgrims from around the world.

In an exclusive interview with The Island, Khalid Hamoud Al-Kahtani, Ambassador of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia to Sri Lanka, described the 2026 Hajj season as a resounding success, crediting the achievement to the visionary leadership of the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques, His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister, and the coordinated efforts of multiple government agencies working around the clock to serve pilgrims.

The Ambassador noted that nearly 3,500 Sri Lankan pilgrims participated in this year’s Hajj under the quota allocated to Sri Lanka, benefiting from enhanced healthcare services, sophisticated crowd-management systems, expanded shaded areas and cutting-edge digital solutions introduced by the Kingdom.

With Saudi Arabia continuing to invest heavily in infrastructure, technology and pilgrim services under Vision 2030, Ambassador Al-Kahtani said the Kingdom remains committed to ensuring that pilgrims from around the world perform their religious duties in safety, comfort and tranquility.

The Saudi envoy also highlighted the growing partnership between Saudi Arabia and Sri Lanka, emphasising expanding cooperation not only in Hajj affairs but also in trade, investment, education, culture and institutional exchanges.

Following are excerpts of the interview:

Q: How do you assess this year’s Hajj season?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: This year’s Hajj season was a resounding success, thanks to the Almighty Allah and the integrated efforts of the government of the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia, led by the Custodian of the Two Holy Mosques and His Royal Highness the Crown Prince and Prime Minister. This success was reflected in the efficiency of crowd management, the quality of services provided to the Hajj pilgrims and the effective coordination among the various relevant authorities, which enabled pilgrims to perform their rituals in an atmosphere of security, tranquility and ease.

Q: How many Sri Lankan pilgrims performed Hajj this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The number of Hajj pilgrims from the Democratic Socialist Republic of Sri Lanka reached approximately 3,500, within the quota allocated to Sri Lanka for this season.

Q: Are there any discussions regarding increasing Sri Lanka’s quota in the future?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:Hajj quotas are determined according to approved regulatory mechanisms that take into account a range of considerations. The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continue to study various aspects related to developing Hajj services and accommodating the allocated numbers for all countries, in coordination with the concerned parties.

Q: What were the most prominent special arrangements implemented this year?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The operational plans for this season focused on enhancing the safety and comfort of the Hajj pilgrims, especially given the climatic conditions and high temperatures. Measures included expanding shaded areas, increasing water distribution points and enhancing health and ambulance services, in addition to developing the transportation system and traffic management within the holy sites.

Q: What are the most prominent digital systems and smart services that were provided?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani:The Kingdom continues to implement its digital transformation objectives for the Hajj and Umrah system. The scope of electronic services offered through the Nusuk platform and application has been expanded, along with the development of digital systems for issuing permits, managing crowds, guidance and health services. This contributes to increasing the efficiency of services and improving the pilgrim’s experience at all stages of their journey.

Q: How were the challenges of overcrowding and heat addressed?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities adopted an integrated crowd-management system based on modern technologies and real-time data analysis. This was coupled with intensified health-awareness campaigns, expanded organised movement routes and increased deployment of field, medical and emergency teams. These measures support the safety of the Hajj pilgrims and reduce the risks associated with crowd density and climatic conditions.

Q: Were there special services for the elderly and sick?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Yes. The Kingdom paid special attention to the elderly and people with special health needs by providing specialized medical services, assistive transportation and facilities equipped to meet their needs, in addition to field teams working to provide humanitarian support and necessary healthcare throughout the Hajj period.

Q: How successful was the Kingdom in combating irregular Hajj permits?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The relevant authorities in the Kingdom continued to rigorously implement the regulations and instructions governing Hajj, utilising modern technologies and advanced monitoring procedures to reduce violations related to irregular Hajj. These efforts contributed to enhancing the safety of pilgrims, improving crowd-management efficiency and maintaining the smooth flow of movement within the holy sites.

Q: How would you describe Saudi-Sri Lankan cooperation in organising Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Cooperation between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka is characterised by continuous and constructive coordination in all matters related to Hajj. The relevant authorities in both countries work jointly to ensure the provision of the best services for Sri Lankan pilgrims and enable them to perform their rituals with ease and peace of mind.

Q: How many Hajj pilgrims were there globally, and what were the main challenges?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: According to official statistics, the number of Hajj pilgrims this year reached 1,707,301 from various countries around the world. The main challenges included managing large crowds, ensuring public safety and providing health, transportation and accommodation services within a specific geographical and temporal scope. These challenges were addressed through advanced and integrated operational plans, which contributed to the smooth and successful completion of the Hajj season.

Q: Are there any future expansion projects?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: The Kingdom continues to implement strategic development projects within the framework of Vision 2030, including developing the infrastructure in Makkah and the Holy Sites, and enhancing transportation networks and smart services. This contributes to raising the quality of services provided to pilgrims and Umrah performers and improving their long-term experience.

Q: How are Saudi-Sri Lankan relations strengthened outside the context of Hajj?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: Relations between the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia and the Republic of Sri Lanka are witnessing continuous development in many areas, including political, economic, trade, cultural and educational cooperation, in addition to developing exchanges between institutions and the private sector. This reflects the two countries’ keenness to strengthen the bilateral partnership and achieve common interests.

Q: What message would you like to convey to Sri Lankan Muslims?

Ambassador Al-Kahtani: We extend our sincere congratulations to the Hajj pilgrims who have completed their Hajj rituals, and we ask Almighty Allah to accept their pilgrimage. We also assure Muslims in Sri Lanka that the Kingdom of Saudi Arabia places serving the Two Holy Mosques and the guests of Almighty Allah at the forefront of its priorities and continues to develop the Hajj and Umrah system to achieve the highest standards of quality and safety.

By Ifham Nizam