Features

More on Wilpattu, natural systems and exotic flora

Published

3 years ago

2023/05/21

Excerpted from the authorized biography of Thilo Hoffmann
by Douglas B. Ranasinghe

During the years that followed 1985, the Park was closed and abandoned. Animals in it were slaughtered, especially buffaloes, wild pig, sambhur and deer. All the visitors’ and staff bungalows were ransacked and largely destroyed by roaming poachers, criminals and timber thieves.

In 2005 the Park was reopened, with a hardworking Park Warden, Wasantha Pushpananda. At his request and the urging of Geepal Fernando, Thilo spent nearly two million rupees on the reconstruction of the Talawila bungalow, in memory of his wife.

Only two years later the Park was again abandoned with the re-emergence of incursions from surrounding areas. Warden Pushpananda was killed. Again wildlife was depleted, and the re-built bungalows ransacked. After the fall of the LTTE, the Park was opened for visitors again in 2010. Once more, Thilo restored the bungalow.But pressure to open the coastal tract for through-traffic to Mannar persists. An easy alternative from Nochchiyagama via Nikawewa and Tantirimalai to Cheddikulam is ignored.

While this was being written, certain authorities have illegally and arbitrarily cut a new road along the coast within Wilpattu, and developed and opened for public use the Army road, damaging the ecology of the National Park on an unprecedented scale. The matter is being contested in court. Several conservation bodies, including the WNPS and Ceylon Bird Club – Thilo’s roles in these are described later – have been battling to uphold the law and save the Park. At their initial meeting and first press conference Thilo, now retired and in Sri Lanka for an annual stay of several months, was an invited speaker.

Natural systems and exotic flora

A `patana’ (sometimes anglicized as ‘patna’) is a grassland of Sri Lanka in the hills or mountains without trees or shrubs but typically intersected by sholas, described below. A `talawa’ is a savanna-type grassland with trees or groups of trees spaced some distance apart; these are mostly fire-resistant species. (Both are traditional Sri Lankan terms).

The afforestation of patanas and talawas with the exotic Pinus caribaea trees was a major point of contention between Thilo, representing the WNPS, and the Forest Department (the ‘FD’).

The FD claims that both patanas and talawas are man made systems whose lands had originally been under forest. Thus they misname the establishment of sterile pinus or eucalyptus plantations as “re-afforestation”. One Conservator of Forests had even proposed the “re-afforestation” of the open plains in the National Parks of the Yala complex, on the same reasoning. Thilo observes:

“When the advocates of pinus claim that under it indigenous species can freely develop, they think of infillings and plantings in degraded wet zone forests, e.g. around Sinharaja. Consider the biological (floral and faunal) composition of ‘dry patanas’ and talawas, and the indisputable fact that in both systems plants and other living organisms have evolved which are confined to these systems as their exclusive habitat.

“One example is the daffodil orchid (Ipsea speciosa) which is endemic to the patanas. It takes a very long time for a species to evolve and establish itself, wherefore the presence of endemics in a system is a strong indication that it is natural and not man-made. The existence of sholas also tends to support this view. It can further be assumed that prehistoric man at the relevant time had neither the means nor the need to clear such large areas permanently.

“By establishing the alien monocultures the FD has practically destroyed climax-type natural systems which only 50 years ago and for at least one hundred thousand years before have characterized the hill country, especially the Uva Plateau and the adjoining foothills.”

Against strong majority opinion, Thilo thus maintains that patanas, typically with sholas (see below), are a natural system, considering other factors, too, such as climate, soil conditions, exposure and topography – not man-made, although during the last three centuries selected patanas were seasonally burnt by the few thinly-spread inhabitants of the area.

Today there are few remnants of typical patanas and none of any sizeable extent. During the last half century patanas have been degraded and destroyed not only by the Forest Department but also through systematic State-sponsored settlement and the subsequent opening for cultivation of even the steepest slopes. The State has failed to recognize and appreciate patanas as a national system of value and to protect at least one typical and sufficiently large extent of these original grasslands. Patanas covered about 160,000 acres or 250 square miles (650 square km) of land, mainly in Uva.

Thilo condemns the establishment of pinus plantations not only because these destroy such natural systems and diversity but also for aesthetic reasons. He explains:

“There are no conifers native to Sri Lanka. Any plant belonging to the family with needles instead of leaves is a ‘double alien’ also because of its utterly out-of-place appearance in our scenery and environment. Pinus plantations alter the landscape massively – dark, nearly black, brooding patches in an otherwise bright and pleasant world.

“These are alien monocultures which exterminate the rich fauna and flora of the patanas and talawas. They might well be characterized as ‘man-propagated invasive foreign flora’, a term which has recently been much talked and written about. [See below.]”

Another important fact was overlooked, and seems to be largely unknown. Thilo points out that healthy, natural Sri Lankan forests do not catch fire even under extreme conditions. In order to clear the land the vegetation consisting of trees and undergrowth has to be felled and at least partly dried before a fire can be started.

Decades ago when he was traveling at night in the dry zone during the annual drought, dozens of chena plots would be ablaze, the fire having being fanned by the strong kachan wind. But when it was over, and only white ash remained, the surrounding forest at the very edge of the clearing was hardly singed, the fire being unable to spread.

On the other hand, pinus plantations, which are supposed to “re-afforest” the patanas, burn out easily and completely due to their resinous nature. All too often this happens. Thilo remembers this unique region as it was in his early years:

“In the late forties and the fifties of the last century the Uva Basin was very thinly populated. Traditional ways of life prevailed in much of the Uva Province; pack bulls were yet a common sight in its remoter parts.

“In the Uva Basin, large tracts of open patana covered most of the undulating area, with villages and paddy lands confined to and hidden in the river valleys. These patanas were then the main habitat of the painted partridge which is now restricted to a small area near Bibile. The endemic daffodil orchid was present in most of the Uva patanas, including those at Chelsea Estate and along the road from Bandarawela to Welimada.

“There were no forests except the so-called sholas, which are narrow strips of forest along the small water courses that have cut their way into the hillsides. These sholas are rich systems with many plant species and animals. Muntjac, mouse deer, pangolin, porcupine, hare and a great variety of birds found suitable habitats in them. Where patana and forest meet the dividing line is sharp, clearly defined and permanent; there is no “creeping” of the forest or shola in to the patana grasslands.”

(‘Shola’ is a word of Indian origin. With regard to the Uva plateau see also Thilo’s description in W.W.A. Phillips’s Handbook of the Mammals of Ceylon, Second edition, 1980.)

Early in the last century Bella Sidney Woolf, sister of Leonard, in her book How to See Ceylon aptly describes the Uva Plateau as “one of the great open spaces of the world that gives one a sense of freedom”. G. M. Henry, the ornithologist, who was active in Ceylon up to the middle of the last century refers to “the great Uva patna basin” in his publications. Today it is as cluttered up as most parts of Sri Lanka. Thilo says:

“At that time sholas were also present in many tea estates and were protected by law as stream reservations. Plantation managements strictly maintained these reservations, not only ensuring a high biodiversity in the hillsides, but also a regular supply of clean water for the villages in the valleys below and for their paddy fields.

“Later, as the political situation in Colombo changed and the population increased, these very useful and progressive reservations were gradually encroached upon and cleared by villagers and eventually disappeared, many being finally ‘regularized’ i.e. officially given to the illegal occupants.

“The result in many cases was scarcity of water in the villages, and often landslides. In the mid 20th century there were practically no landslides in Uva; today they occur regularly. The state then did nothing at all to enforce the law on these stream reservations, which still exists as a ‘dead letter’.

“Soon the Government also decided to settle people in the large extents of patana State land in Uva, and the Forest Department began to establish on the grassy slopes monoculture plantations of eucalyptus and pinus species. First as a trial at Palugama (now Keppetipola), and then on a large scale on every hillside in the area, they planted these exotic trees on the basis that the grasslands had originally been forest. These activities radically changed the character of the Uva Plateau, and today it bears no comparison to what it was in the 1930s to 1950s and historically.”

As an agronomist Thilo had soon noted that the soils of patana lands are shallow, gravelly, excessively drained, and very erodable if cleared of the original vegetation, especially the steep hillsides. The continuing clearing of such land is the opposite of development, and it has caused untold harm to the areas concerned.

Similarly, Thilo and the WNPS were not happy about the establishment of extensive teak and eucalyptus plantations in the dry zone where large extents of indigenous forest were cleared for the purpose.

In the intermediate and wet zone Thilo advocated afforestation with mixed mahogany and jak trees. This had been done during the Second World War when State forest was given out to private enterprise for the growing of papaya. He explains:

“This was for the production of papain, then a valuable export commodity in worldwide short supply during the war. The planting of the other trees together with the commercial crop was a condition. These mixed plantations allow the development of indigenous species amongst the jak and mahogany. They have formed marvellous and majestic forests, and now yield valuable timber. They can be seen where the Kurunegala-Dambulla road passes through two of them, and also in many other locations.

The growing of teak in the right places is undoubtedly justified, but generally suitable indigenous trees should be preferred even for the commercial production of timber. The Forest Department seems to have a predilection for exotics, as in the Knuckles, which often are as easy to grow as weeds, like pinus, and thus preferred. Thilo observes:

“On the other hand, repeated efforts are being made to eradicate so-called invasive exotic species. Most such campaigns are not only futile but extremely costly, as in the case of the Lantana (gandapana or katu hinguru) plant. This was introduced to Ceylon nearly 200 years ago as an ornamental plant and is a weed only in neglected and waste lands, e.g. chenas. Lantana takes over where man has destroyed the natural vegetation, and under its protective cover and shade native trees can re-emerge over long periods.

“The most harmful invasive plants in Sri Lanka are aquatic species such as the water hyacinth and salvinia. Others become harmful only where the natural system and order have been disturbed. Some of the plants listed as invasive are indeed a threat to the existing ecosystems, such as the untidy Eurium odoratum (podisingho maram) and Prosopispato is julfliora, which is spreading like wildfire in the Bundala area and elsewhere.

“Others are long established and have found niches without causing harm, such as Opuntia stricta, Clusia rosea or even the pretty gorse which has existed in the Nuwara Eliya area for one-and a-quarter centuries. It found its way to the Horton Plains only in the wake of massive visitation. With minimal attention it could have been kept in check, which is also the case with black wattle (Acacia mollissima) that has spread in from neighbouring tea fields.”

Cloud forests

Cloud forest is tropical mountain forest shrouded in cloud for much of the year, with short trees, rich in epiphytes. In the last quarter of the last century Thilo Hoffmann and a few other observers noted and commented on a strange and disturbing phenomenon in the hill country. The cloud forests of Sri Lanka, it appeared, were dying.

It was Hoffmann who did most to draw attention to the matter, and to analyze it carefully. This he did mostly in reports and papers appearing in Loris’ and the Ceylon Bird Club Notes’. Diligent observations across half a century of the Horton Plains placed him in a unique position to discern the changes.

An article by him submitted in 2005 to Loris is reproduced as Appendix II. There, as before, he attributes the damage to air pollution, and also proposes a remedy in the form of a plan to control it. In the text, as published by Loris, certain critical remarks are omitted and there are some distortions, hence the original script is given here.

In November 2006 Hoffmann observed possible signs of recovery of the cloud forest, apparently the first time this was recorded. He confirmed the recovery during subsequent visits and reported on it in more detail in 2009′.

Shortly before the publication of the present book, according to a newspaper report, a research team of the University of Sabaragamuwa had also come to the conclusion that the decline of cloud forests was due to air pollution.

All News Advertisement

Up Next

Condolences, warnings and admonition never to forget

Don't Miss

Urbanization In The Low-And-Middle-Income Countries:

Click to comment

Features

Sri Lanka’s rice conundrum: Time to stop managing crises and start fixing the system

Published

3 hours ago

2026/09/4

Thilina Walpola

Prof. Ranjith Senaratne,
Emeritus Professor in Crop Science and former Vice-Chancellor,
University of Ruhuna and General President of the Sri Lanka Association for the Advancement of Science (2023) and
Prof. Prasad Jayaweera,
Dean, Faculty of Computing, University of Sri Jayawardenapura

Rice is not merely another crop in Sri Lanka. It is our staple food, an integral part of our history and culture, and a foundation of the civilisation that flourished around our ancient hydraulic systems. Revered as Buddha Bhogaya, the Buddha’s crop, rice has sustained our people for more than two millennia. Yet, remarkably, a country with such a profound relationship with rice continues to lurch from one rice crisis to another.

At one time, we have a surplus. At another, we face shortages. Prices rise sharply, consumers complain, farmers struggle to obtain remunerative prices, millers and traders become the focus of public attention, imports are hurriedly arranged, and governments announce yet another set of measures to contain the crisis. Then, after the immediate problem subsides, the matter recedes from the national agenda, until the next crisis arrives.

Why does this keep happening despite decades of agricultural research, policy interventions, expert committees and public debate?

Perhaps because we have been asking the wrong question. The fundamental problem is not simply how to produce more rice. Nor is it merely a question of prices, imports, fertiliser, farmers, millers or markets. The rice conundrum is a complex national systems problem.

We cannot solve a system by fixing its parts in isolation

Sri Lanka’s rice sector is an intricate web of interconnected systems involving agriculture, land, water, climate, technology, finance, energy, transport, markets, trade, governance, institutions and consumer behaviour. A decision made in one part of this system can have consequences, sometimes unintended, in another.

A change in fertiliser policy, for example, can affect productivity and production costs, which in turn influence farmer profitability, market prices and the need for imports. Irrigation decisions affect not only production, but also water availability, energy use and environmental sustainability. Guaranteed prices influence farmers’ cropping decisions, while import policies can simultaneously protect consumers and weaken incentives for domestic production. Likewise, market concentration can affect both the price received by farmers and the price paid by consumers. This is precisely why isolated interventions so often produce disappointing results. We keep treating symptoms while leaving the underlying system largely untouched.

For decades, we have generated valuable scientific knowledge on individual aspects of rice production and marketing. But knowledge generated within disciplinary and institutional silos does not automatically translate into solutions to complex real-world problems. What is needed now is a fundamentally different way of thinking.

From a “rice crop” to a “rice system”

The first step is to stop looking at rice simply as something that is grown in a paddy field.

The rice system begins with land, water, seed, inputs, technology and finance. It extends through cultivation, harvesting, drying, milling, storage, transport, wholesale and retail marketing, and finally to the consumer’s table. At every stage, there are different interests, incentives, constraints and actors: farmers, farmer organisations, input suppliers, machinery operators, millers, traders, wholesalers, retailers, financial institutions, government agencies, researchers and consumers.

And hovering over the entire system are climate change, changing consumer preferences, technological transformation and national economic conditions. A weakness anywhere in this chain can compromise the performance of the whole system.

Consider post-harvest losses. If significant quantities of rice are lost because of inadequate drying, storage or processing facilities, increasing production alone cannot solve the problem. Similarly, if farmers produce efficiently but face weak markets and poor bargaining power, productivity gains may not translate into improved livelihoods.

The question, therefore, should not be “How much rice can we produce?” but “How can we make the entire rice system work better?”

That requires us to see the connections.

The missing ingredient: reliable, real-time information

There is another fundamental weakness that deserves urgent attention: we still lack a comprehensive, integrated, interoperable and reliable national information system for rice. Information is scattered among different institutions, often collected using different methodologies and not necessarily available when decisions need to be made.

How much rice will actually be produced? How much is in storage? What is the likely demand? Where are the emerging production shortfalls? What are the stocks held by different actors? How are prices moving along the value chain? What are the likely consequences of climate conditions? Without timely and reliable answers to such questions, policymakers are forced to make critical decisions with incomplete information. This is not merely an administrative inconvenience. It is a national food-security vulnerability.

Sri Lanka should therefore seriously consider establishing a National Rice Intelligence and Decision Support System (NRIDSS), an integrated digital platform that brings together relevant real-time information from agriculture, meteorology, irrigation, markets, trade, statistics and other institutions. Such a system could support production forecasting, market monitoring, import decisions, early warning and evidence-based policy formulation. In an increasingly uncertain climate and volatile global economy, this should no longer be regarded as a luxury. It is becoming an essential component of national food-system governance.

The deeper problems cannot be ignored

A systems approach would also force us to confront some uncomfortable structural realities. Why does productivity remain relatively low despite decades of research? Why are so many holdings too small to achieve economies of scale? Why are modern technologies and precision agriculture not being adopted more rapidly? Why do farmers often have limited bargaining power? Why do substantial losses occur after harvesting? Why can market power become concentrated in a relatively small number of actors? Why are guaranteed prices sometimes announced too late to influence farmers’ production decisions? Why are policy interventions so often reactive rather than proactive? And how will droughts, floods, temperature extremes, changing rainfall patterns and emerging pests affect the stability of rice production in the years ahead? These are not separate questions. They are parts of the same system.

From crisis management to systems governance

Sri Lanka does not need another isolated discussion about rice. What is needed is a national policy dialogue and action forum that brings all relevant actors together, not merely to exchange speeches, but to develop a shared understanding of the system and agree on what needs to be done. Such collaboration must go beyond consultation or the exchange of views. The different parties need to work together from problem definition through to implementation, bringing their diverse knowledge, perspectives, interests and practical experience into a common process.

Farmers bring contextual and experiential knowledge; industry actors understand market realities and operational constraints; scientists contribute evidence and analytical capabilities; policymakers bring institutional and regulatory perspectives; while technology and data specialists can provide new tools for understanding and managing the system. When these different perspectives are brought together systematically, they can reveal interdependencies, challenge assumptions, identify feasible interventions and generate solutions that are evidence-based, practically implementable and socially acceptable.

This is the essence of a transdisciplinary systems approach: not simply working across disciplines, but bringing together multiple stakeholders and multiple forms of knowledge to co-create solutions and share responsibility for outcomes. The process should therefore go beyond presentations and speeches. It should involve systems mapping, causal analysis, stakeholder dialogue, scenario planning and the participatory identification of the critical bottlenecks and leverage points in the rice system. Most importantly, it should distinguish between what is urgent and what is important, and between interventions that merely alleviate symptoms and those capable of changing the underlying behaviour of the system itself.

We need an implementation roadmap, not another report

There is, however, one important caveat. Sri Lanka has no shortage of reports, recommendations and policy documents. What we often lack is sustained implementation. Any national initiative on the rice conundrum must therefore end not with another set of broad recommendations but with a prioritised national action roadmap. It should identify short-, medium- and long-term actions, assign institutional responsibilities, establish timelines and define measurable indicators of progress. The ultimate objective should be to move Sri Lanka from reactive crisis management to proactive systems governance.

A national opportunity

The rice conundrum may, in fact, provide Sri Lanka with an opportunity that extends well beyond rice to deal with other important crops. If we can demonstrate that a complex national problem can be addressed by bringing together science, policy, stakeholder knowledge, real-time information and systems thinking, the approach could become a model for addressing other persistent challenges, from climate resilience and water security to energy, food systems and disaster risk.

The choice before us is therefore quite stark. We can continue responding to each rice crisis as it emerges, adjusting prices, arranging imports, appealing to millers, reassuring consumers and supporting farmers, only to repeat the cycle later. Or we can step back and ask a more fundamental question:

What is it about the way our rice system is structured and governed that continually produces these crises?

That is the question that needs to be answered. Sri Lanka has the scientific expertise, institutional capacity and stakeholder knowledge required to do so. What is needed now is the willingness to bring these fragmented sources of knowledge together and examine the rice sector as one interconnected system.

Our ancient civilisation understood the importance of interconnectedness: land, water, agriculture and society were organised as parts of a larger whole. Perhaps, in confronting the modern rice conundrum, we need to rediscover that systems wisdom, this time supported by modern science, technology, real-time data and transdisciplinary thinking. The time has come to stop merely managing the rice crisis. It is time to fix the system that keeps producing it.

It is against this backdrop that the Sri Lanka Association for the Advancement of Science (SLAAS) proposes to convene shortly a “National Policy Dialogue and Action Forum on the Rice Conundrum in Sri Lanka”, bringing together the key stakeholders across the rice system. The Forum is intended to provide a platform for moving beyond piecemeal and reactive interventions towards a coordinated, evidence-based and transdisciplinary systems approach, one capable of generating lasting and pragmatic solutions to what has become an “island-shaking national issue”.

Features

This curse of partisan politics in Sri Lanka

Published

3 hours ago

2026/09/4

Thilina Walpola

78 Years of Demagoguery, Not Democracy

by Brigadier Ranjan de Silva
rpcdesilva@gmail.com

On the 4th of February every year, we raise the lion flag and speak of democracy. We speak of 78 years of “self-rule.” But honesty demands we ask: what kind of rule have we actually had? It was not democracy. Democracy is government for the common good, constrained by law, informed by reason, and accountable to truth.

What Sri Lanka has had for 78 years is demagoguery — government by manipulation, by party, and by passion.

Defining the Curse:

The dictionary defines demagoguery as “political activity that seeks support by appealing to the desires and prejudices of ordinary people rather than by rational argument.” Its tools are simple: divide the people, promise the impossible, demonize the opponent, and govern for the next election, not the next generation. That is the political culture we inherited in 1948 and perfected since.

78 Years of Evidence:

The record is not ambiguous. Policy by Pendulum – 1948–2024. Instead of a national development plan, we got a partisan wrecking ball. 1956: The “Sinhala Only Act” was passed not after linguistic study, but as an election mobilization tool. 1970-77: The SLFP nationalized private enterprise and imposed import controls. 1977: The UNP reversed course with an open economy overnight. 2005-2014: Mega infrastructure was built on Chinese loans with no feasibility transparency. 2015-2019: Those same projects were called “white elephants” and stalled. 2020-2021: The organic fertilizer ban was announced as a populist “green” policy, reversed 6 months later after it collapsed agriculture and food prices. The Colombo Port City, Hambantota Port, and the Central Expressway all followed the same pattern: started, stopped, rebranded. The country pays twice. The party takes credit once. Economics as Election Candy. Demagoguery is expensive. 1960s: Subsidized rice to win rural votes, leading to the 1971 food crisis.

2005-2014:

Fuel subsidies and public sector hiring sprees that doubled the wage bill. 2019:

Unfunded tax cuts that removed Rs. 500 billion in annual revenue with no offset. By April 2022, external debt hit $51 Billion and we defaulted for the first time. The party that cut taxes was not in power to manage the IMF program. The party that inherited it was blamed for the austerity. This is the cycle. Institutions captured. A democracy needs referees. We turned them into party cadres. The 17th Amendment 2001 created independent commissions. The 18th Amendment 2010 abolished them. The 19th 2015 restored them. The 20th 2020 gutted them again. Police transfers, university vice-chancellors, and state bank chairmen have all been decided by party headquarters, not merit.

When the institution serves the party, the citizen gets leftovers.

Identity over Ideas: From 1956 to 1983 to 2009 to 2022, our elections have been won on fear, not spreadsheets. “They will erase your language.” “They will sell the country.” “Only we can protect Buddhism/the minorities/the nation.”

Rational debate on debt, productivity, or climate adaptation never wins a rally. Prejudice does. That is demagoguery by definition.

Party Interest subverted the National Interest. The core damage of 78 years of partisan politics is this: the nation became secondary to the party. Need power sector reform? Impossible, because our unions will strike. Need to cut 300,000 ghost employees? Impossible, because our voters will defect. Need a 20-year education and export plan? Impossible, because it won’t show results before the next election. So, we borrowed. We patched. We lied. The result: a railway system that still runs on 1950s engines, hospitals without paracetamol in 2022, and a brain drain of 300,000+ skilled workers since the crisis. The parties rotated. The country declined.

The Opposition’s Original Sin and here, all parties share guilt equally. In opposition, the job is not to govern. It is to destroy. The UNP in the 60s called the SLFP “communist.” The SLFP in the 70s called the UNP “imperialist.” The JVP called both “traitors.” The SJB, SLPP, and NPP today use the same script with new logos. Every tax is “anti-people.” Every reform is “a sell-out.” Every crisis is proof the other side is evil and must be removed at any cost. Then they win. And implement 80% of what they opposed. Because demagoguery has no principles, only positions. 78 years of unmerciful, bad-faith criticism has not produced accountability. It has produced cynicism. The public now believes all politicians are the same — because for 78 years, they have behaved the same.

Breaking the Curse:

Changing the party in power will not end this. We must change the incentives that reward demagoguery. Three reforms are non-negotiable: Bind future Parliaments to national policy. Pass 10-year frameworks for energy, education, and public debt with 2/3 majority protection. Infrastructure and fiscal rules should outlast one government, as they do in Chile and New Zealand. Depoliticize the state. Independent commissions for police, elections, public service, and bribery must have constitutional budgets and appointment panels that exclude MPs. No more 18th/20th Amendment style rollbacks. Demand better from voters We must stop rewarding the best slogan and start demanding the best spreadsheet. Town halls over rallies. Costings over promises. A 5-year plan over a 5-minute speech.

In 1948, we did not inherit democracy. We inherited an election. For 78 years we have used that election to choose our favourite demagogue. The prize has been debt, division, and decay. The curse of partisan politics will only end when citizens and leaders agree on one principle: Party second. Country first. Until then, February 4th will remain a ceremony, not a celebration.

Features

Developing markets for fruits, vegetables and flowers in the Gulf

Published

3 hours ago

2026/09/4

Thilina Walpola

Image courtesy Export Development Board)

Export diversification – Missing the wood for the trees – Part II

by Gomi Senadhira

Sri Lanka established its diplomatic presence in the Gulf region only in the early 1980s. First, a small embassy was opened in Abu Dhabi, covering the UAE. Then in 1982, embassies were opened in Jeddah and Kuwait. The embassy in Jeddah covered Saudi Arabia while Kuwait was responsible for Kuwait, Oman, Qatar and Bahrain. Commercial Diplomats were also assigned to these two embassies. A senior private sector executive, with experience in marketing, was posted to Jedda as the commercial counsellor. I was posted to Kuwait as a second secretary (Commercial). Our instructions were very clear. Focus not only on traditional exports. Product diversification was a priority.

Developing Markets for Agricultural Products

At that time, Minister Lalith Athulathmudali had just launched his Export Production Villages (EPV) programme. He believed that the EPVs working closely with the exporters would provide an ideal opportunity for rural households to directly benefit from the government’s new open trade policy. Agricultural products, particularly fruits and vegetables, were a key component of this approach and the ministry thought that the Gulf countries, with large Sri Lankan communities, would have a ready-made market for these items. Thus, from day one we were compelled to explore the market for nontraditional exports; fruits and vegetables (F&Vs) were on the top of our priority list.

From cane baskets to cardboard boxes

Fortunately, the market for the F&Vs products in the region was at a very early stage of development. That provided an opportunity for Sri Lankan exporters, who were also inexperienced, to work with the importers and grow together. For example, in Kuwait, one of our first customers for F&Vs was a small supermarket where the manager was a Sri Lankan. After the first shipment arrived, he invited me to inspect the shipment. I visited the supermarket and was shocked by what I saw. While produce from other countries was packed nicely in cardboard boxes, our packaging mirrored transport to Manning market, cane baskets! As a result, fresh produce had suffered significant damage. A long report, with photographs, to the trade ministry produced an immediate response. After all, this was a pet project of the Minister. Within weeks, shipments were packed in cardboard boxes. Immediately afterwards, an expert on packaging from the Commonwealth Secretariat was sent to Kuwait with an official from the EDB to study the problem.

By then, we had also managed to develop a friendship with the management of the Salmiya supermarket, a large upmarket supermarket patronised by wealthy Kuwaitis and expats. It was a cooperative and the chairman was a Kuwaiti public servant. I could only meet him after 6 PM when his large office functioned as a diwaniya, a cherished cultural space in Kuwaiti society. Guests moved in and out the room. I had to spend time with them sipping many cups of tea. Though that meant at least two hours on each visit, it helped greatly to develop a close relationship. The general manager was an efficient and friendly Palestinian. After many visits we had succeeded in getting an order for F&Vs. The day after the first shipment arrived, I got an urgent call from the GM to come and inspect it. Once again, I was in for a surprise. Inside the cold room, the consignments from other countries were stacked neatly on top of each other, while vegetable boxes from Sri Lanka had collapsed once placed on top of each other, crushing the produce within.

Fortunately, our packaging experts arrived in Kuwait soon after this incident. They spent two days in the Salmiya Supermarket, studying the packaging from other origins. We were also successful in assuring the GM our packaging would improve. After that, packaging improved and exports moved smoothly. With that, Sri Lanka emerged as a small but reliable supplier to the mainstream market, not just the ethnic segment of the market.

Export of Fresh Vegetables by Sea

Towards the end of my tour, a Sri Lankan businessman requested me to find a buyer for cabbages, which he was prepared to export in large quantities by sea. I introduced him to the largest fruit and vegetable importer in Kuwait. Their regular suppliers of similar vegetables were Jordan, Lebanon and Syria. Luckily, the company was keen to diversify the supply sources. A few weeks later, the first container load of cabbages from Sri Lanka arrived in Kuwait. Immediately after the arrival of the container, I visited the company. They were pleased with the quality and the price and were looking forward to importing more fruits and vegetables. Unfortunately, that turned out to be a one-off event. Later on, when I was back in Sri Lanka, the exporter informed me that he couldn’t continue with it due to the problems with the local supply chains.

Floriculture

During the period I was asked by the EDB to explore the market for floricultural products, more particularly for cut flowers. At that time Kuwait was a relatively large importer of cut flowers and live plants. The main suppliers were the Netherlands and Colombia. Importers were also reluctant to move out of the established supply chain, particularly due to “snob value” associated with the product from Europe. However, after some difficulties, one importer agreed to place a pre-paid trial order. After the arrival of that shipment, he was impressed by the quality of the product and the orders expanded rapidly. As a result, by the end of 1985 Kuwait had become a major buyer of Sri Lanka’s floricultural products.

From village to global markets

As a result of the proactive promotional work undertaken by the EDB and the embassies in the region, by 1985, Sri Lanka had managed to acquire a small but significant share of the F&V and floriculture markets in the GCC countries. We had also identified domestic supply chain issues that hindered exports. All that was done, long before Southeast Asian or African countries even entered into that market. In fact, my Southeast Asian colleagues used to contact me often to reserve “durian” for them at the “Sri Lankan supermarket”.

Most importantly, a substantially large share of produce from Sri Lanka in Kuwaiti supermarkets originated in the EPVs. Of course, that didn’t just happen. The ministry (or the minister) using the carrot and stick approach “encouraged” exporters to buy the produce directly from the newly established EPVs. (The writer can be reached at senadhiragomi@gmail.com)