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My continuing battle against the Tea Hub proposal that would have debased pure Ceylon Tea

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Multinationals have long reduced the content of Ceylon tea in packs branded as such

(Excerpted from the autobiography of Merrill J. Fernando)

The ruthless philosophy of the multinational packer and retail supplier is to buy low and sell high in mass markets in which the consumer, through relentless advertising and promotion, has been compelled to accept a well-packaged mediocrity masquerading as excellence. The intrinsic value of a product such as Pure Ceylon Tea and its inherent value proposition is subordinated to profit. Concepts such as genuine product purity and uniqueness of origin have no place in such a world. Such values do not belong in the base culture of mass-marketing of bland, homogeneous products.

The importation of cheap tea from multiple origins would immediately result in the discounting, at the Colombo Auction, of equivalent grades produced in this country, which would invariably be of a higher value than the import. In fact, the cost of any cheap imported tea would be well below our national cost of production, which, for a number of well known reasons, is the highest in the world.

A glut of such low-priced imported tea would depress auction prices overall and adversely impact the grower and producer, who are already burdened by high production costs and diminishing land and worker productivity. In the meantime, the cheap blend, with its desirability enhanced by the legend ‘packed in Sri Lanka/Ceylon,’ will be perceived as genuine Ceylon Tea by the overseas consumer. That perception will cause irreparable damage to the image of Pure Ceylon Tea and, also, to the exporter of the genuine product.

Despite the many abuses it has been subject to over the years, at the hands of multinationals and other traders, who have no respect for either purity or origins, Ceylon Tea is not a commodity as other teas are. Pure Ceylon Tea, of itself and in itself, is a brand and a specialty in the eyes of the consumer. There is no other tea in the world which is recognized internationally by the country of its origin like Ceylon Tea; nor is any other country globally identified by the tea it produces like Sri Lanka/Ceylon.

Up to about 20 years ago, Ceylon Tea was promoted and marketed on that unique value proposition and that memory still lingers in the minds of the older, middle-aged consumer. It was that memory of quality which ensured the success of Dilmah in Australia, despite it being priced well above its competing brands produced by the big multinationals.

Historically, though, commoditization has been the strategy of the trader, the promotion of the brand on the strength of the quality image of Ceylon Tea and then gradually reducing the latter component, thus deluding the overseas consumer and impoverishing the local farmer. Consumers who purchase blindly on brand loyalty do not perceive the gradual erosion in the quality of the cup of tea they drink every day. They will continue to patronize the debased product as a conditioned reflex to compelling advertising and promotion.

A recent example of the strategy described above is the fate of the Russian market, first serviced by our own traders, who, instead of developing own labels when the opportunity arose, chose the easy path and became servitors of the foreign label. The end result was an ignominious exit from the market when the Russian buyer, having established market share on the strength of Ceylon Tea, took his business elsewhere or established his own packing plants in Russia itself.

Value addition, branding, and marketing have, for long, been the weakest features in our export field. Despite all their arguments to the contrary, increasing the total value of our exports using cheap imported tea is not practically possible. The immediate result would be the decline of the export price of Pure Ceylon Tea.

Value-added tea is already being exported at prices ranging from Rs. 600 per kg to Rs. 1,100 per kg. The availability of Ceylon Tea at those prices, automatically weakens the argument for importation of cheap tea, unless the purpose is simply to devalue the export price.

It is also most unlikely that global players in the tea trade, packing in-market, using cheap, multi-origin tea, would rush to Sri Lanka to establish packing centres with the establishment of a Tea Hub. We are far removed from the main markets of the global packers and the only inducements for them to set up operations in Sri Lanka would be the availability of low-cost labour and cheap tea, at rock-bottom prices, the margin savings overriding other disadvantages, such as additional shipping and distribution costs. Such operators will not buy the high-priced Ceylon Tea, unless the proposed massive influx of imported tea drives the local auction prices down to the floor! Is it necessary to emphasize that such a scenario would be the death knell for the local producer?

Unacceptable comparisons, Garment Sector vs. Tea Export Industry

Blending hubs such as Dubai and Rotterdam, examples frequently used by the Tea Hub proponents as ideal models for replication, cannot be equated with Sri Lanka, which is a major producer. Such hubs are commercial centers which facilitate the recycling of products from multiple origins and owe no allegiance to producing countries.

As for the much-touted increase in employment generated by a Tea Hub, it is a myth, as any new blending or packing plant would be fully automated and designed specifically to minimize manual labour. In an industrialized world relentlessly driving towards robotization of processes, manpower is the first designated casualty in any new venture.

The loss of traditional markets for our tea has not been due to price concerns, but largely due to our inadequacies in value addition, marketing, and promotion. The emergence of ‘Dilmah’ as a premier product in Australia and New Zealand, despite being much higher in price than the corresponding products from large multinationals, is proof of the effectiveness of product promotion on the intrinsic strengths of the product itself. It completely negates the argument that multi-origin, cheap blends will override the uniqueness of Pure Ceylon Tea on cost alone.

Our tea has for long been acclaimed as the ‘cleanest tea in the world,’ meeting the Minimum Residue Levels (MRL) stipulated by some of the most demanding markets in the world, such as Japan. The importation of cheap tea from multiple origins, of unregulated hygiene and cleanliness standards, would immediately defile that image irrevocably.

The garment sector in Sri Lanka and the establishment of special Free Trade Zones (FTZs) have been quoted by the TEA (Tea Export Association) as successful examples of special manufacturing enclaves, equivalent to the proposed Tea Hub. In my view those are most inappropriate comparisons, as unacceptable as a ‘chalk and cheese’ equivalent.

The apparel industry exists almost entirely for the servicing of foreign labels, with 95% of the components being imported, whilst, locally, we simply supply the labor. It is. essentially, a massive labor- intensive operation, dedicated to the concept of maximum production at the lowest cost, but embellished with attractive labels, supported by cutting-edge technology, best manufacturing practices, and compliance with international standards, process hygiene and worker safety.

I am not, even for one moment, belittling the success of the garment industry in Sri Lanka, but those are the realities. Sri Lankans do not own the garment industry and are almost entirely dependent on foreign label patronage for continued existence. In that respect alone, the garment industry in Sri Lanka is very similar to the foreign label service provided by Sri Lankan traders to multi-national tea packers. The establishment of a Tea Hub will relegate our tea industry to that unattractive niche. As long as we are in control of the production of the raw material, we have the power to strategize how and where we sell it and at what price.

The establishment of FTZs was to ensure that the finished product, or the raw material, is not leaked out to local markets. As opposed to that, in the plantation industry, possibly over 95% of the raw material and other components are generated locally. It is a totally home-grown industry where the raw material, in its totality, is produced within.

There are only two sustainable ways of increasing the export value of our tea. One is to improve our land and labour productivity and increase annual production and, thus, send more tea to the auction annually. Another is to increase value addition at source to locally-owned brands, thus enhancing the export price. In fact, simply increasing production without a parallel strategy for adding value is also counterproductive.

Auction prices are determined by supply/ demand dynamics which are outside the producers’ area of control and a combination of both volume and quality will not ensure a sustainable revenue increase. Finally, value addition at source to a good quality finished product, namely ‘Pure Ceylon Tea,’ is the surest method of increasing earnings.

Every kilo of tea produced in Ceylon sells at premium prices and, irrespective of other market dynamics, is still considered as a benchmark for overall quality. In such a scenario, the only objective of devaluing it would be for personal gain, in order to compete with the mass-selling, low-priced, multinational trader.

Example of exploitation

The multinational traders’ exploitative strategy in regard to third world products is best illustrated by coffee, grown in countries such as Brazil, Vietnam, Colombia, Ethiopia, Uganda, and many other countries in Africa. In all the countries where coffee is grown in volume, the per capita income of the farmer is a fraction of that of an average farmer in a developed country and miniscule in comparison to the earnings of the average coffee consumer in the West.

Colvin R. de Silva, as Minister of Plantations, was one of the first politicians to publicly and unequivocally articulate this unacceptable disparity. For every plastic cup of coffee sold for USD 3-4 in affluent societies, the farmer in Africa gets five cents. From a kilogramme of coffee sold at USD 2.75, 110 cups can be brewed, translating to a profit margin of over USD 300 for those in between the poor farmer and the rich consumer.

The story of the tea trade in the hands of the multinational tea trader is no different and the cheapening of Ceylon Tea by importing, blending, and re-exporting will contribute further to that unacceptable social and economic disequilibrium.

It is a cardinal rule of all major packers – multinationals – never to purchase their material from one source or origin. Invariably they operate through two or more suppliers. However, because of the excellent and longstanding quality proposition of Ceylon Tea and the confidence we inspired in all the buyers of the major retailers, for many decades Ceylon Tea used to be, if not the major component, the most important ingredient of multinational packs.

Disappointing indications

During a previous Government’s term, the then Finance Minister, Ravi Karunanayake, deluded by the facile arguments of the Tea Hub proponents, facilitated the importation of tea in one of his budgets.

However, my protests against this provision, supported by the then Minister, Ranil Wickremesinghe, resulted in its removal.

I must also admit to being disappointed by the stance of the Planters’ Association, in regard to the issue of the Tea Hub. I recall a strongly-worded press statement (Daily FT, May 17, 2012), in which the PA declared its opposition to the concept. However, as the umbrella body which primarily represents producer interests, I would have expected it to come out far more strongly, vocally, and actively, against an initiative with the very obvious potential to cause serious damage producer.

Sometime in March 2012, immediately after a meeting of the anvil, chaired by me, certain members of the Tea Council met then Plantations Minister, Mahinda Samarasinghe, and advised him that they would boycott future meetings of the Council chaired by me if I continued to oppose the TEA proposals regarding importation of tea. However, they did not breathe a word about this matter at the meeting itself, though that was the most obvious forum for the issue to have been discussed.

Frankly, I was disgusted by the base conduct of those exporters and, by my letter of March 30, 2012, addressed to Minister Samarasinghe, I resigned from the chairmanship of the Council. In my letter I also clearly stated the reasons for my resignation. The Minister accepted it and appointed Tyeab Akberally, Vice Chairman, to the position I relinquished.

The Tea Council was set up in 1989, under the direction of the then Minister of Plantations, Gamini Dissanayake. Its core purpose was resolving the many problems of the entire industry, in a manner that would benefit the industry in its totality; the plantation worker, the producer, the broker, and the exporter, all included. The very submission of a proposal which only addressed the interests of the exporter, to the obvious detriment of all other stakeholders, was in conflict with the remit of the Council.

Dr. P. B. Jayasundera, then Secretary to the Treasury, has always been a strong opponent of the Tea Hub concept. Addressing the CTTA’s 118th Annual General Meeting in late 2012, ironically flanked at the head table by a couple of ardent proponents of the Tea Hub concept, Dr. Jayasundera stated quite unequivocally that the only manner in which the export earnings from tea could be increased was by “creating a new development framework and promoting Ceylon Tea at a premium, setting aside the idea of making the country a Tea Hub”.

Basically, what Dr. Jayasundera supported was to position Sri Lanka as an exclusive centre for value addition to Pure Ceylon Tea and not to convert it to a trading platform for tea from any and every origin.

Bleak certainties

To any impartial observer, it would be clear that the TEA call for liberalization of imports was driven by the sense of insecurity, generated by the rapidly-diminishing profit margins of the proponents. It is a proposal which reflects, with embarrassing clarity, the mindset of the timid exporter and his submission to foreign label pressure. In my many arguments against the Hub, I have frequently requested its supporters to take a moment to consider why a few exporters from Sri Lanka sell comfortably at USD 10 FOB per kilo, whilst others scramble at the bottom, selling at USD 3 per kilo.

All the multinationals operating in Sri Lanka are now manned entirely by Sri Lankans and the industry’s reliance on the former to market our tea should be minimal. However, I am both baffled and saddened by the still very evident orientation and adherence within the industry to archaic multinational thinking and strategy.

In their hunger for short-term gain, the proponents of the Tea Hub are prepared to sacrifice the long-term potential of Pure Ceylon Tea, as well as consign the hundreds of thousands of low-income earners at the producers’ end to permanent impoverishment. In their pursuit of immediate and short term survival, they are prepared to surrender every natural advantage in ‘Pure Ceylon Tea’. The reality is that it is the locally-owned brands exporting exclusively ‘Pure Ceylon Tea,’ which are the flag bearers of the national product on the global stage.

In total, about 12% of this country’s population is dependent, either directly or indirectly, on the plantation economy. Of that proportion, about 90% toil at the producers’ end; plantation workers and residents, small-holders, their dependents, ancillary service suppliers, bought leaf manufacturers, and so on. A decline in the Colombo tea prices, arising from cheap imports, would result in a permanent adverse impact on the lives of this multitude, whilst temporarily enriching a minuscule proportion at the exporters’ end.

Pure Ceylon Tea was, and still is, this country’s greatest asset. It’s a primary home-grown product and identifies Ceylon/Sri Lanka globally. Its real value and significance have either been misinterpreted by successive governments, and many of our local traders, but fully exploited by the multinational who understood its actual worth. Through Ceylon Tea, the country has a product which can stand alone and compete successfully against any tea grown or manufactured in any other country. The maximization of its inherent value proposition simply requires vision, dedication, and integrity of purpose.

For over a century we have permitted Ceylon Tea, a valuable and attractive ‘finished product’ with enormous potential to this country, to be exported by multinational companies to other countries as a ‘raw material’. The importing countries debase its natural quality by blending with inferior tea from other origins, whilst reducing its cost and, with pretty packaging, claim to add value to a less-than-mediocre mix, but still sell it on its intrinsic value as Ceylon Tea. In the process, the tea that is grown by the farmer in our country enriches a chain which has no real link to his country, at the expense of our producer, our farmer, and our plantation worker.

What the proponents of the Tea Hub are advocating so strongly is the replication of the same odious process, in the country of the orign of Ceylon Tea, though they have clothed the proposal in noble rhetoric, as a panacea for all the ills of the tea industry.

Pure Ceylon Tea is still synonymous with quality in the many countries in which it has been a traditional brew, despite the debasement it has suffered at the hands of multinationals who, whilst devaluing its intrinsic goodness, still leveraged the original quality perception in their marketing. Thus, packers determine the quality that they offer the consumer, as the purchasing choice of the latter is limited to what is available on the supermarket shelf.

This compulsion created by the multi-national marketer appears to have created an illusory perception in the minds of certain exporters, especially the Tea Hub proponents, that the cheap, debased tea is actually a consumer demand or preference. Dilmah, however, convincingly exploded this myth with its success in the marketing of quality ‘Pure Ceylon Tea’ in Australia and New Zealand.

Marshalling the opposition

At the beginning of this chapter I referred to the proposal by the then Trade Minister, Lalith Athulathmudali, in 1979, which, to the best of my knowledge, was the first instance when a leading politician presented tea importation as a strategy with potential for economic benefit to the country. To the best of my recollection, there had been no serious discussion about it before, although I am certain that the idea would have been tossed around in tea trading circles. It is really in the 1980s that wider discussion around the concept commenced, eventually gathering momentum until, within a couple of decades, it became an existential threat to the tea industry in its totality.

When I first opposed Athulathmudali’s proposal, I was, essentially, a bulk tea exporter. Dilmah arrived almost 10 years later. Thus, it must be clear to all readers that my opposition to the concept of a Tea Hub, contrary to the arguments of my opponents, was not to protect my interests or my personal brand, but entirely in the larger interests of the tea industry of Sri Lanka. It is for that reason that in this writing I have explained in considerable detail the likely impact of the implementation of such a proposal.

In the years since 2010, during which the Tea Hub proposal has been canvassed by its advocates at all relevant forums, I have used all the resources that I was able to muster to oppose it. My views have been expressed publicly, via newspapers and the electronic media, whilst concurrently being made known at the highest levels of government. I was also able to enlist the support of the Tea Small Holders’ Association and the assistance of the Private Tea Factory Owners’ Association, whilst the Planters’ Association also endorsed my view. However, as I have said earlier in this writing, from the latter I would have welcomed a far more involved engagement in opposition given that, in the event of unrestricted importation, the producer stood to lose more than any other industry group.

Independent journalists of several newspapers, both Sinhala and English, also published articles in support. My friend Herman Gunaratne, plantation owner and specialty tea producer-exporter from Galle, with his passion for Pure Ceylon Tea and his wide contacts within the smallholder segment and private factory owners of the south, was of immense help to me in marshalling support in resistance of the Tea Hub proposal.

The combined strength of the opposition groups, representing about 12% of the country’s population, eventually succeeded in temporarily suppressing a scheme which would have briefly benefited a few thousand people at most. However, the industry needs to be always aware of and be constantly on guard against a resurgence of the Tea Hub movement. If implemented, it will be, for a short while, very profitable for the proponents who are only interested in short-term gain. Since there is money in it, albeit for a handful of profiteers, I suspect that the idea will never be abandoned altogether, irrespective of opposition.

The Tea Hub proposition is a delusional attempt to bridge the chasm between the supplier of tea and the marketer of tea. It is a futile exercise to conflate these two mutually-exclusive concepts. The supplier furnishes a featureless commodity whilst the marketer markets a branded product with a specific identity. There can never connection between these two extremes. Finally, despite all opposition, if the Hub eventually becomes a dismal reality, and the local tea industry collapses as a result – as it surely will – there will not be one expert at that time to acknowledge responsibility and openly say, “Yes, I supported the importation of Orthodox Tea!”



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Meet the women protecting India’s snow leopards

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These women work with the local forest department to track and protect the snow leopard species [BBC]

In one of India’s coldest and most remote regions, a group of women have taken on an unlikely role: protecting one of Asia’s most elusive predators, the snow leopard.

Snow leopards are found in just 12 countries across Central and South Asia. India is home to one of the world’s largest populations, with a nationwide survey in 2023 – the first comprehensive count ever carried out in the country – estimating more than 700 animals, .

One of the places they roam is around Kibber village in Himachal Pradesh state’s Spiti Valley, a stark, high-altitude cold desert along the Himalayan belt. Here, snow leopards are often called the “ghosts of the mountains”, slipping silently across rocky slopes and rarely revealing themselves.

For generations, the animals were seen largely as a threat, for attacking livestock. But attitudes in Kibber and neighbouring villages are beginning to shift, as people increasingly recognise the snow leopard’s role as a top predator in the food chain and its importance in maintaining the region’s fragile mountain ecosystem.

Nearly a dozen local women are now working alongside the Himachal Pradesh forest department and conservationists to track and protect the species, playing a growing role in conservation efforts.

Locally, the snow leopard is known as Shen and the women call their group “Shenmo”. Trained to install and monitor camera traps, they handle devices fitted with unique IDs and memory cards that automatically photograph snow leopards as they pass.

“Earlier, men used to go and install the cameras and we kept wondering why couldn’t we do it too,” says Lobzang Yangchen, a local coordinator working with a small group supported by the non-profit Nature Conservation Foundation (NCF) in collaboration with the forest department.

Yangchen was among the women who helped collect data for Himachal Pradesh’s snow leopard survey in 2024, which found that the state was home to 83 snow leopards – up from 51 in 2021.

Spiti Wildlife Division A snow leopard looks into the camera
Snow leopards are often called the “ghosts of the mountains” because they are so hard to spot [BBC]

The survey documented snow leopards and 43 other species using camera traps spread across an area of nearly 26,000sq km (10,000sq miles). Individual leopards were identified by the unique rosette patterns on their fur, a standard technique used for spotted big cats. The findings are now feeding into wider conservation and habitat-management plans.

“Their contribution was critical to identifying individual animals,” says Goldy Chhabra, deputy conservator of forests with the Spiti Wildlife Division.

Collecting the data is demanding work. Most of it takes place in winter, when heavy snowfall pushes snow leopards and their prey to lower altitudes, making their routes easier to track.

On survey days, the women wake up early, finish household chores and gather at a base camp before travelling by vehicle as far as the terrain allows. From there, they trek several kilometres to reach camera sites, often at altitudes above 14,000ft (4,300m), where the thin air makes even simple movement exhausting.

The BBC accompanied the group on one such trek in December. After hours of walking in biting cold, the women suddenly stopped on a narrow trail.

Yangchen points to pugmarks in the dust: “This shows the snow leopard has been here recently. These pugmarks are fresh.”

Devesh Chopra/BBC A woman wearing a black and red scarf writes something in her notebook and a camera trap is placed in front of her.
The women set up cameras with unique IDs and memory cards, which capture an image of a snow leopard as soon as it passes through [BBC]

Along with pugmarks, the team looks for other signs, including scrapes and scent‑marking spots, before carefully fixing a camera to a rock along the trail.

One woman then carries out a “walk test”, crawling along the path to check whether the camera’s height and angle will capture a clear image.

The group then moves on to older sites, retrieving memory cards and replacing batteries installed weeks earlier.

By mid-afternoon, they return to camp to log and analyse the images using specialised software – tools many had never encountered before.

“I studied only until grade five,” says Chhering Lanzom. “At first, I was scared to use the computer. But slowly, we learned how to use the keyboard and mouse.”

The women joined the camera-trapping programme in 2023. Initially, conservation was not their motivation. But winters in the Spiti Valley are long and quiet, with little agricultural work to fall back on.

“At first, this work on snow leopards didn’t interest us,” Lobzang says. “We joined because we were curious and we could earn a small income.”

The women earn between 500 ($5.46; £4) and 700 rupees a day.

But beyond the money, the work has helped transform how the community views the animal.

Spiti Wildlife Division A woman looks at a computer screen which has a grab of a leopard.
Images captured by the camera traps are analysed using a special software [BBC]

“Earlier, we thought the snow leopard was our enemy,” says Dolma Zangmo, a local resident. “Now we think their conservation is important.”

Alongside survey work, the women help villagers access government insurance schemes for their livestock and promote the use of predator‑proof corrals – stone or mesh enclosures that protect animals at night.

Their efforts come at a time of growing recognition for the region. Spiti Valley has recently been included in the Cold Desert Biosphere Reserve, a Unesco-recognised network aimed at conserving fragile ecosystems while supporting local livelihoods.

As climate change reshapes the fragile trans-Himalayan landscape, conservationists say such community participation will be crucial to safeguarding species like the snow leopard.

“Once communities are involved, conservation becomes more sustainable,” says Deepshikha Sharma, programme manager with NCF’s High Altitudes initiative.

“These women are not just assisting, they are becoming practitioners of wildlife conservation and monitoring,” she adds.

As for the women, their work makes them feel closer to their home, the village and the mountains that raised them, they say.

“We were born here, this is all we know,” Lobzang says. “Sometimes we feel afraid because these snow leopards are after all predatory animals, but this is where we belong.”

[BBC]

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Freedom for giants: What Udawalawe really tells about human–elephant conflict

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Too many vehicles entering national parks

If elephants are truly to be given “freedom” in Udawalawe, the solution is not simply to open gates or redraw park boundaries. The map itself tells the real story — a story of shrinking habitats, broken corridors, and more than a decade of silent but relentless ecological destruction.

“Look at Udawalawe today and compare it with satellite maps from ten years ago,” says Sameera Weerathunga, one of Sri Lanka’s most consistent and vocal elephant conservation activists. “You don’t need complicated science. You can literally see what we have done to them.”

What we commonly describe as the human–elephant conflict (HEC) is, in reality, a land-use conflict driven by development policies that ignore ecological realities. Elephants are not invading villages; villages, farms, highways and megaprojects have steadily invaded elephant landscapes.

Udawalawe: From Landscape to Island

Udawalawe National Park was once part of a vast ecological network connecting the southern dry zone to the central highlands and eastern forests. Elephants moved freely between Udawalawe, Lunugamvehera, Bundala, Gal Oya and even parts of the Walawe river basin, following seasonal water and food availability.

Today, Udawalawe appears on the map as a shrinking green island surrounded by human settlements, monoculture plantations, reservoirs, electric fences and asphalt.

“For elephants, Udawalawe is like a prison surrounded by invisible walls,” Sameera explains. “We expect animals that evolved to roam hundreds of square nationakilometres to survive inside a box created by humans.”

Elephants are ecosystem engineers. They shape forests by dispersing seeds, opening pathways, and regulating vegetation. Their survival depends on movement — not containment. But in Udawalawa, movement is precisely what has been taken away.

Over the past decade, ancient elephant corridors have been blocked or erased by:

Irrigation and agricultural expansion

Tourism resorts and safari infrastructure

New roads, highways and power lines

Human settlements inside former forest reserves

Sameera

“The destruction didn’t happen overnight,” Sameera says. “It happened project by project, fence by fence, without anyone looking at the cumulative impact.”

The Illusion of Protection

Sri Lanka prides itself on its protected area network. Yet most national parks function as ecological islands rather than connected systems.

“We think declaring land as a ‘national park’ is enough,” Sameera argues. “But protection without connectivity is just slow extinction.”

Udawalawe currently holds far more elephants than it can sustainably support. The result is habitat degradation inside the park, increased competition for resources, and escalating conflict along the boundaries.

“When elephants cannot move naturally, they turn to crops, tanks and villages,” Sameera says. “And then we blame the elephant for being a problem.”

The Other Side of the Map: Wanni and Hambantota

Sameera often points to the irony visible on the very same map. While elephants are squeezed into overcrowded parks in the south, large landscapes remain in the Wanni, parts of Hambantota and the eastern dry zone where elephant density is naturally lower and ecological space still exists.

“We keep talking about Udawalawe as if it’s the only place elephants exist,” he says. “But the real question is why we are not restoring and reconnecting landscapes elsewhere.”

The Hambantota MER (Managed Elephant Reserve), for instance, was originally designed as a landscape-level solution. The idea was not to trap elephants inside fences, but to manage land use so that people and elephants could coexist through zoning, seasonal access, and corridor protection.

“But what happened?” Sameera asks. “Instead of managing land, we managed elephants. We translocated them, fenced them, chased them, tranquilised them. And the conflict only got worse.”

The Failure of Translocation

For decades, Sri Lanka relied heavily on elephant translocation as a conflict management tool. Hundreds of elephants were captured from conflict zones and released into national parks like Udawalawa, Yala and Wilpattu.

Elephant deaths

The logic was simple: remove the elephant, remove the problem.

The reality was tragic.

“Most translocated elephants try to return home,” Sameera explains. “They walk hundreds of kilometres, crossing highways, railway lines and villages. Many die from exhaustion, accidents or gunshots. Others become even more aggressive.”

Scientific studies now confirm what conservationists warned from the beginning: translocation increases stress, mortality, and conflict. Displaced elephants often lose social structures, familiar landscapes, and access to traditional water sources.

“You cannot solve a spatial problem with a transport solution,” Sameera says bluntly.

In many cases, the same elephant is captured and moved multiple times — a process that only deepens trauma and behavioural change.

Freedom Is Not About Removing Fences

The popular slogan “give elephants freedom” has become emotionally powerful but scientifically misleading. Elephants do not need symbolic freedom; they need functional landscapes.

Real solutions lie in:

Restoring elephant corridors

Preventing development in key migratory routes

Creating buffer zones with elephant-friendly crops

Community-based land-use planning

Landscape-level conservation instead of park-based thinking

“We must stop treating national parks like wildlife prisons and villages like war zones,” Sameera insists. “The real battlefield is land policy.”

Electric fences, for instance, are often promoted as a solution. But fences merely shift conflict from one village to another.

“A fence does not create peace,” Sameera says. “It just moves the problem down the line.”

A Crisis Created by Humans

Sri Lanka loses more than 400 elephants and nearly 100 humans every year due to HEC — one of the highest rates globally.

Yet Sameera refuses to call it a wildlife problem.

“This is a human-created crisis,” he says. “Elephants are only responding to what we’ve done to their world.”

From expressways cutting through forests to solar farms replacing scrublands, development continues without ecological memory or long-term planning.

“We plan five-year political cycles,” Sameera notes. “Elephants plan in centuries.”

The tragedy is not just ecological. It is moral.

“We are destroying a species that is central to our culture, religion, tourism and identity,” Sameera says. “And then we act surprised when they fight back.”

The Question We Avoid Asking

If Udawalawe is overcrowded, if Yala is saturated, if Wilpattu is bursting — then the real question is not where to put elephants.

The real question is: Where have we left space for wildness in Sri Lanka?

Sameera believes the future lies not in more fences or more parks, but in reimagining land itself.

“Conservation cannot survive as an island inside a development ocean,” he says. “Either we redesign Sri Lanka to include elephants, or one day we’ll only see them in logos, statues and children’s books.”

And the map will show nothing but empty green patches — places where giants once walked, and humans chose. roads instead.

By Ifham Nizam

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Challenges faced by the media in South Asia in fostering regionalism

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Main speaker Roman Gautam (R) and Executive Director, RCSS, Ambassador (Retd) Ravinatha Aryasinha.

SAARC or the South Asian Association for Regional Cooperation has been declared ‘dead’ by some sections in South Asia and the idea seems to be catching on. Over the years the evidence seems to have been building that this is so, but a matter that requires thorough probing is whether the media in South Asia, given the vital part it could play in fostering regional amity, has had a role too in bringing about SAARC’s apparent demise.

That South Asian governments have had a hand in the ‘SAARC debacle’ is plain to see. For example, it is beyond doubt that the India-Pakistan rivalry has invariably got in the way, particularly over the past 15 years or thereabouts, of the Indian and Pakistani governments sitting at the negotiating table and in a spirit of reconciliation resolving the vexatious issues growing out of the SAARC exercise. The inaction had a paralyzing effect on the organization.

Unfortunately the rest of South Asian governments too have not seen it to be in the collective interest of the region to explore ways of jump-starting the SAARC process and sustaining it. That is, a lack of statesmanship on the part of the SAARC Eight is clearly in evidence. Narrow national interests have been allowed to hijack and derail the cooperative process that ought to be at the heart of the SAARC initiative.

However, a dimension that has hitherto gone comparatively unaddressed is the largely negative role sections of the media in the SAARC region could play in debilitating regional cooperation and amity. We had some thought-provoking ‘takes’ on this question recently from Roman Gautam, the editor of ‘Himal Southasian’.

Gautam was delivering the third of talks on February 2nd in the RCSS Strategic Dialogue Series under the aegis of the Regional Centre for Strategic Studies, Colombo, at the latter’s conference hall. The forum was ably presided over by RCSS Executive Director and Ambassador (Retd.) Ravinatha Aryasinha who, among other things, ensured lively participation on the part of the attendees at the Q&A which followed the main presentation. The talk was titled, ‘Where does the media stand in connecting (or dividing) Southasia?’.

Gautam singled out those sections of the Indian media that are tamely subservient to Indian governments, including those that are professedly independent, for the glaring lack of, among other things, regionalism or collective amity within South Asia. These sections of the media, it was pointed out, pander easily to the narratives framed by the Indian centre on developments in the region and fall easy prey, as it were, to the nationalist forces that are supportive of the latter. Consequently, divisive forces within the region receive a boost which is hugely detrimental to regional cooperation.

Two cases in point, Gautam pointed out, were the recent political upheavals in Nepal and Bangladesh. In each of these cases stray opinions favorable to India voiced by a few participants in the relevant protests were clung on to by sections of the Indian media covering these trouble spots. In the case of Nepal, to consider one example, a young protester’s single comment to the effect that Nepal too needed a firm leader like Indian Prime Minister Narendra Modi was seized upon by the Indian media and fed to audiences at home in a sensational, exaggerated fashion. No effort was made by the Indian media to canvass more opinions on this matter or to extensively research the issue.

In the case of Bangladesh, widely held rumours that the Hindus in the country were being hunted and killed, pogrom fashion, and that the crisis was all about this was propagated by the relevant sections of the Indian media. This was a clear pandering to religious extremist sentiment in India. Once again, essentially hearsay stories were given prominence with hardly any effort at understanding what the crisis was really all about. There is no doubt that anti-Muslim sentiment in India would have been further fueled.

Gautam was of the view that, in the main, it is fear of victimization of the relevant sections of the media by the Indian centre and anxiety over financial reprisals and like punitive measures by the latter that prompted the media to frame their narratives in these terms. It is important to keep in mind these ‘structures’ within which the Indian media works, we were told. The issue in other words, is a question of the media completely subjugating themselves to the ruling powers.

Basically, the need for financial survival on the part of the Indian media, it was pointed out, prompted it to subscribe to the prejudices and partialities of the Indian centre. A failure to abide by the official line could spell financial ruin for the media.

A principal question that occurred to this columnist was whether the ‘Indian media’ referred to by Gautam referred to the totality of the Indian media or whether he had in mind some divisive, chauvinistic and narrow-based elements within it. If the latter is the case it would not be fair to generalize one’s comments to cover the entirety of the Indian media. Nevertheless, it is a matter for further research.

However, an overall point made by the speaker that as a result of the above referred to negative media practices South Asian regionalism has suffered badly needs to be taken. Certainly, as matters stand currently, there is a very real information gap about South Asian realities among South Asian publics and harmful media practices account considerably for such ignorance which gets in the way of South Asian cooperation and amity.

Moreover, divisive, chauvinistic media are widespread and active in South Asia. Sri Lanka has a fair share of this species of media and the latter are not doing the country any good, leave alone the region. All in all, the democratic spirit has gone well into decline all over the region.

The above is a huge problem that needs to be managed reflectively by democratic rulers and their allied publics in South Asia and the region’s more enlightened media could play a constructive role in taking up this challenge. The latter need to take the initiative to come together and deliberate on the questions at hand. To succeed in such efforts they do not need the backing of governments. What is of paramount importance is the vision and grit to go the extra mile.

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