Features
New century, old story: War ends as social tragedy, continues as political farce
(This is a slightly modified version of the article published online on May 16.)
by Rajan Philips
Sri Lanka didn’t need a Y2K (shorthand for year 2000) problem at the dawn of the 21st century, indeed, the third millennium. The island of millenniums had enough baggage from the old century to carry over into the new century, if not from the old millennium to the new. Old problems were carried with new mutations and whole new other ones were added. The war that was muddled through the nineties consumed almost the entire first decade of the new century, before ending in 2009. The end of the war did end much of the social tragedy that it created, but it did not end the farcical continuation of war by political means. Mercifully, the killings ended but the agony of the living has persisted with no certainty about the dead and the missing. Not to mention the endless spat over how many died, with nary a thought or hand for the survivors of war and their livelihood struggles.
The war added new mutations to the old national question. The emergence of the Tamil diaspora and with it the phenomenon of diasporic nationalism, are developments that no one could have foreseen even as late as 1982. Equally, at both the state and societal levels, Sri Lanka has not fully come to terms with the rise of new strands of Sinhala Buddhist nationalism outside the ambits of mainstream political parties among the Sinhalese. Add to these, the coming of age of Muslim nationalism after having long been in the shadows of Sinhala and Tamil politics. These developments have defined the 21st century course of Sri Lanka’s never ending constitutional odyssey, especially involving the fate or the future of the 13th Amendment, the Provincial Councils, and even the Executive Presidency. A new dimension to the course of politics was provided by the end of the war itself, rather by the debate over how the war ended and whether or not crimes were committed.
The JVP insurrection and the Tamil separatist challenge that arose soon after, have been interpreted as accusations against (or rejections of) the post-colonial establishment (or ‘imaginary’) that had been taking shape in the two decades after independence. The establishment had its own internal contradictions and contestants: Left vs Right, and ethnic conflicts over language, religion, habitats and constitutions. But the JVP and later the LTTE assaults targeted the whole establishment without discrimination. Insofar as both assaults have ended in defeats, if not failure, a practical question would be – what next? It is also a fact that the post-colonial establishment that was evolving after independence now stands more deformed than reformed, though not wholly as a result of the JVP and LTTE assaults. What was once a reasonably working system of parliamentary democracy has degenerated into caricature as an ineffectual presidential system.
Twelve years after the war ended, there are no answers in sight to the questions that led to the war and have survived the war. There are no permanently correct answers in politics, but the task of every generation is to keep the balance on the side of more correct than incorrect answers. As things are in 2021, and thanks to an untoward juncture of a global pandemic and government incompetence, there are mostly only incorrect answers and hardly any correct answers to the many questions that Sri Lankans are facing. The current juncture will pass one way or another, but there is hardly a positive sign that the national question involving Sri Lanka’s ethnic groups that have been bestirred in the aftermath of the war might likely be answered satisfactorily any time soon.
A Dysfunctional Family
If Sri Lanka is a family of nationalisms, it has been for the most part a dysfunctional one. This is because Sri Lanka’s nationalisms have grown into being more conflictual and competitive than being complementary. The war and its aftermaths would appear to have exacerbated these tendencies and the unfolding of diasporic and Jathika Chinthanaya phenomena would certainly attest to this. At the same time, their emergence also provide insights into the social and cultural roots of the nationalist stirrings among the Sinhalese, Tamils and the Muslims. Identifying and sharing these insights is needed to get rid of the always simplistic, and very often offensive, stereotypes, which have for far too long informed each community’s understanding of the other.
As stereotypes go, “Mahavamsa mindset” apparently sums up the Tamil understanding of Sinhala nationalism. For the Sinhalese, Tamil nationalistic claims are nothing more than a new ruse for Vellala domination. And Sri Lankan Muslim nationalism is simply dismissed as Sri Lankan manifestation of global Islamic fundamentalism. There is more to each nationalism than these stereotypes, and each involves the lives and mores of people that cannot be summarily dismissed in any approach to accommodating them and making them complementary to one another. There are people in each community who do not subscribe to the narrow nationalistic claims that are made on behalf of their community. And stereotyping smudges them as well out of recognition.
It might not be widely known outside the JC universe that the political roots of the two intellectual prime movers (Dr. Gunadasa Amarasekara and Prof. Nalin de Silva) behind JC are traceable more to Marxism and left politics than to any Mahavamsa mindset. In fact, one of them (Prof. de Silva) is known to have been a supporter of the right of self-determination of the Tamil people before 1983. The open economy politics that began in 1977 and its social eruption in 1983 have more to do with the emergence of the Tamil diaspora and the Jathika Chinthanaya soul searching among the Sinhalese intelligentsia, than anything that stereotypical explanations can provide.
The violence of 1983 impacted the Tamils indiscriminately and directly led to the emergence of the Tamil diaspora. On the other hand, the backlash to 1983 from outside Sri Lanka, especially the West and human rights organizations, may have been a factor in the energization of the JC school after 1983. The UNP government of the day wholly owned the 1983 disaster and deserved a great deal more than whatever blame it got and wherever it came from. JC was opposed to the UNP government’s open economy swindle and its cultural sellout, and it resented the government’s cunning approach to the Tamil national question. That was to parley with Tamil politicians in secret, and organize violence against Tamil civilians in the open. When 1983 went out of control, the backlash was not only against the government, but besmirched the entire Sinhalese society, including those who were revolted by the violence and others who were intractably opposed to the government. And there were also backlashes from different fragments in the Sri Lankan social formation.
The fragmentation of the social formation and the creation of multiple political spaces was another outcome of the open economy and the political makeover under the UNP government. Thus, there was a new sociopolitical space for the offsprings of the old, westernized Ceylonese middle class. It is not unfair to characterize the NGOs as being among the occupants of this space. And the children of 1956 were not neglected, at least from the economic standpoint. The more mobile among them easily filled up the economic spaces that the open economy created.
And for their social reproduction outside the vernacular, with a western accent, President Jayewardene gave them international schools. If that was JRJ’s belated rejoinder to the SLFP’s schools’ takeover of the 1960s, and it certainly was, he was not particularly looking to provide reparation to the Churches who lost control over many of their schools in the takeover. Rather, and worse, JRJ snobbishly abandoned caring about the entire national school system, which he had the absolute power to retool anyway he wanted – to provide international education with a national accent to the children of 1977.
There was another aspect to the open economy that the UNP, and every government thereafter, neither recognized nor addressed. It was the orphaning of the state sector at the altar of the open economy. The salaries and compensation levels in the state sector were instantly and massively devalued by the opening of the economy and the aligning of market prices and private sector remunerations to global rates. I am not sure if this anomaly has been satisfactorily addressed to date. If Singapore is the vaunted model, you cannot have a competitive public sector without matching compensation with the private sector. It is no secret that some of the best and the brightest in a whole generation of Sri Lankans, opted not to join the Central Bank, the universities or government institutions.
Political Limitations
The upshot of these changes was the emergence of two contending formations. One of the two, the NGO-formation (to call it loosely with no disparagement intended), wanted to use 1983 as a platform to recast Sri Lanka’s political society fundamentally different from what had led to the catastrophe of 1983. The new society would be plural and secular, would celebrate its diversity and welcome devolution. Intellectually, ethno-nationalism would be called out for what it is not – not an essential human condition.
The other, the JC-formation (so called, for convenience), has diametrically been opposed to any and all of the above. The JC thinking is also indicative of the unique exceptionalism that Sinhala Buddhist nationalism is uniquely constrained to project by virtue of Sri Lanka being the only natal home of the Sinhalese. In this respect, Tamil nationalism and Muslim nationalism are somewhat different, as they have external cultural validations to fall back on by virtue of language (Tamil in South India) and religion (Islam), respectively. The JC response in effect might be seen as a response to a sense of besiegement, after 1983, of the Sinhalese by forces from within (NGOs) and without (the West).
At the political level, the NGO formation found its spearheads alternatingly in Chandrika Kumaratunga and Ranil Wickremesinghe. Their accomplishments fell far below expectations. The JC formation waited patiently for the most authentic Sinhala Buddhist leader in Mahinda Rajapaksa, and had its golden decade from 2005 to 2015. The rest of the Sri Lankan political field, both individuals and organizations and of all ethnic groups, have been scurrying between the two main political polarities at regular intervals. The JVP and the JHU, both beneficiaries of JC affiliations at some point, have been in both political alliances and have also splintered over which side they should be permanently aligned with. The Tamil and the Muslim political parties have had their cracks of affiliations with the two main alliances and have little to show as results for their efforts.
The new forces of Sinhala Buddhist nationalism suffered a setback when Mahinda Rajapaksa was defeated in his attempt to extend his presidency to a third term. They revived resoundingly within five years with the victory of Gotabaya Rajapaksa in the 2019 presidential election. The unfolding of the new Rajapaksa presidency, however, has been anything but prosperous or splendid despite the promised vistas of prosperity and splendour. Rather, the country is living through a dismal record of incompetence and inaction. The ‘young’ SLPP that was seen by some as a permanent incubator of future presidents, is no longer seen as a permanently promising political vehicle.
The alternatives to the regime are less than embryonic. Of the old JC affiliates, the JVP is trying to make a new mark as a sharp opposition party in parliament. And JHU’s Champika Ranawaka, perhaps the only politician with credible presidential ambition but without a political vehicle of his own, is now a member of convenience in Sajith Premadasa’s Samagi Jana Balawegaya (SJB). The debate over where the UNP ends and the SJB begins seems to be never ending.
Fifty years ago, the JVP launched its first abortive insurrection ostensibly to liberate the rural poor through the agency of its youth. Within 20 years, the JVP staged its second coming and the Tamil militants launched their violent struggle. They have all run their course which came to an end in 2009. Political violence used to be justified as the last resort after all other avenues have been exhausted. The violent struggles in Sri Lanka from 1971 to the Easter bombings in 2019 were not launched after all other avenues were exhausted. The question to ask 50 years after 1971 is – what happens when the ultimatums of political violence have all been tried and exhausted as well? Should politics be reduced to a farce as the continuation of war and violence by other means?
Features
Oil prices rise like rockets, fall like feathers (if you’re lucky)
Crude oil is the lifeblood of the global industrial economy, yet the journey from a subterranean reservoir to a litre of petrol at the forecourt involves a cascade of physical transformations, commercial transactions, and fiscal interventions that profoundly shape who bears the cost, and how much. A sudden shift in the world market price of crude, whether triggered by OPEC+ supply discipline, geopolitical disruption, or a demand shock, does not translate uniformly into consumer prices across the globe. The consequences are systematically different, depending on a country’s tax policy, exchange rate, efficiencies in refining processes, distribution processes and dependence on energy imports.
The Refining Process: From Crude to Finished Products
Crude oil is a naturally occurring mixture of hydrocarbons and its chemical composition varies by field: Heavy sour crudes from Venezuela, or Saudi Arabia, require additional processing, raising refining costs by USD 2–5 per barrel. One standard barrel contains approximately 159 litres.
Crude oil is preheated to approximately 370–400°C and the operating principle exploits differences in boiling points. The resulting fractions, collected from top to bottom, include: light petroleum gases (LPG) boiling below 40°C; naphtha and gasoline fractions in the 40–205°C range; kerosene and jet fuel between 175°C and 275°C; diesel and gas oil from 250°C to 350°C; and atmospheric residue above 350°C which is then processed in a vacuum distillation unit to recover further distillates, including lubricating oil base stocks.
Primary distillation alone is insufficient to meet market demand. Gasoline demand far exceeds the natural yield of the distillation cut. A modern complex refinery achieves the following approximate product yields from a light sweet crude: petrol/gasoline ~45%; diesel/gasoil ~25%; kerosene/jet fuel ~10%; LPG ~5%; heavy fuel oil ~10%; and other by-products ~5%. These ratios shift with crude quality and refinery configuration, and response differently to crude price changes.
The Crude Truth: How Oil Prices Punish the Poor Twice
An accounting perspective reveals a waterfall of costs, each layer added by a distinct economic actor and subject to a distinct set of market forces and regulatory interventions. A companion of the approximate cost structure for a litre of petrol at the retail level, assuming a crude oil price of USD 70 per barrel (approximately USD 0.44 per litre of crude equivalent), between advanced and emerging economies, can be explained in four layers:
Layer 1 — Crude Oil Cost (~51% of Retail Price)
The foundation of every fuel product is the crude oil acquisition cost. At USD 70/barrel, the raw material cost embedded in one litre of refined petrol is approximately USD 0.44. This figure includes wellhead lifting costs, field operating expenses, royalties, and sovereign resource taxes paid to the producing country, as well as freight and insurance for ocean tanker shipment.
For emerging economies, without domestic refining capacity, or with currencies that are not freely convertible, this layer is doubly exposed: a crude price increase is compounded by any simultaneous depreciation of the local currency.
Layer 2 — Refining Margin (~20% of Retail Price)
The gross refining margin, measured by the industry’s standard 3-2-1 crack spread;
Crack Spread (gross refining margin) = (2×Gasoline Price) + (1×Diesel Price) − (3×Crude Price)
Critically, this gross figure must not be confused with profit. A refinery typically uses 6–8% of its own crude input as process fuel, and significant variable operating costs. This gross refining margin, the difference between the value of products produced and the cost of crude, varies considerably with market conditions.
In advanced economies with large, integrated refinery systems, these margins are moderated by competition and long-term supply contracts. In emerging economies, dependent on a single import refinery or on product imports rather than crude, refining costs are effectively set by the international product market, leaving little domestic control over this cost layer.
Layer 3 — Distribution and Marketing (~11% of Retail Price)
Refined products must travel from the refinery gate to the consumer through a distribution network involving primary pipelines or product tankers, regional storage terminals, secondary truck distribution, and retail fuel stations. In advanced economies, this infrastructure is mature, privately operated, and highly efficient, contributing a relatively stable USD 0.05–0.10 per litre to the retail price. In many emerging economies, the distribution infrastructure is fragmented, underdeveloped, or state-controlled, introducing additional costs, quality inconsistencies, and opportunities for rent-seeking. In Sri Lanka, for instance, the state-owned Ceylon Petroleum Corporation has historically cross-subsidised distribution costs, masking the true economic cost until subsidy withdrawal forced rapid price adjustments in 2022.
Rent-Seeking is extracting value without creating value; essentially corruption and inefficiency
Licensing corruption:Limited fuel station licenses create artificial scarcity; Licenses sold/traded at premiums; Political connections needed to obtain licenses
Quality adulteration: Consumers pay for “petrol” but get lower-quality mix
Quota manipulation:Subsidised kerosene (meant for poor households) diverted to diesel mixing; Creates black markets during shortages
Phantom costs:
Layer 4 — Taxation (18–60% of Retail Price)
Taxation is the most variable, politically sensitive, and analytically important layer in the cost structure. In advanced economies a high tax bases serve a dual purpose: generating substantial fiscal revenue and acting as an automatic price stabiliser. When crude rises, the absolute tax component remains constant, so the percentage of the price attributable to crude increases less than proportionately at the retail level.
In contrast, emerging economies historically imposed low fuel taxes or active subsidies, particularly for diesel, LPG, and kerosene used by low-income households. Sri Lanka’s fuel tax component, prior to the 2022 crisis, was, they claim, effectively negative in real terms due to administered pricing below cost.
The Impact of a Crude Price Increase: Advanced vs. Emerging Economies
For example, if crude oil rises from USD 70 to USD 85 per barrel, an increase of approximately 21.4%. The mechanisms by which this shock is transmitted to consumers, and the capacity of economies to absorb or redistribute it, diverge dramatically along the advanced/emerging economy divide (Table 1).

Absorb shocks through tax relief
Advanced economies possess well-established fiscal frameworks that enable them to absorb temporary commodity shocks through tax relief, targeted transfers, or direct subsidies without compromising fiscal sustainability. Research by the Center for Global Development (2026) estimates the median fiscal cost of shielding consumers from the crude price increase of USD 15 scenario at approximately manageable cost of 0.4% of GDP for advanced economies.
Emerging economies face median fiscal costs of approximately 0.9% of GDP — effectively double. For Sri Lanka, entering the 2022 energy crisis with near-zero foreign reserves, even a temporary subsidy was fiscally impossible, forcing an immediate and politically destabilising pass-through of the full price increase to consumers. The lesson is stark: the ability to smooth out a commodity price shock across time is itself a function of prior fiscal strength, making the poor more vulnerable precisely because their governments are already under strain.
Inflation Pass-Through and Monetary Policy Credibility
The second transmission mechanism operates through the consumer price index and central bank behaviour. In advanced economies, fuel typically represents 3–5% of the CPI basket, and central banks enjoy high credibility in anchoring inflation expectations.
In emerging economies, fuel and food together often constitute 40–60% of CPI baskets, and central banks have historically struggled to maintain credible inflation targets. A 21% crude price increase translates into a far larger initial CPI shock. Worse, the loss of inflation credibility means that workers and businesses adjust wages and prices preemptively, generating persistent second-round inflation (> Double). To defend its inflation target, the emerging economy central bank must raise interest rates aggressively, simultaneously raising the cost of borrowing for businesses and governments, a painful policy dilemma in an economy already under stress.
Structural Current Account Vulnerability
The third and perhaps most structurally significant difference lies in the current account and foreign exchange dynamics. The advanced economies hold large reserve currencies and deep financial markets that allow them to finance import cost increases without immediate exchange rate pressure.
Sri Lanka, by contrast, allocated approximately 23% of its total import bill to petroleum products. A USD 15/barrel price increase instantly widens the current account deficit of these economies, depleting foreign exchange reserves. As reserves fall, currency markets anticipate further depreciation, precipitating speculative selling of the domestic currency. The resulting exchange rate depreciation, potentially 5–15% in a shock scenario, multiplies the cost of crude imports in local currency terms. A 21% USD price increase thus becomes a 28–39% local currency price increase at the refinery gate, before any refining, distribution, or tax component is added. This vicious cycle; crude price rise → reserve depletion → currency depreciation → amplified import cost → further reserve depletion, is a hallmark of emerging economy energy crises, and Sri Lanka’s 2022 experience illustrated it in extreme form.
Double bind when crude rises and subsidised
Countries that have historically subsidised fuel face a double bind when crude rises: the subsidy bill expands sharply (as the gap between subsidised price and market cost widens), while fiscal space contracts. The International Monetary Fund has consistently recommended subsidy reform, allowing fuel prices to reflect market cost while protecting the poor through direct cash transfers, as the fiscally sustainable path. Sri Lanka’s forced price liberalisation in 2022 (under IMF programme conditions) illustrate both the political difficulty and the macroeconomic necessity of this adjustment.
The Asymmetry of Oil Price Responses: Advanced vs. Emerging Economies
Advanced economies enjoy bidirectional flexibility in responding to oil price volatility; prices rise and fall with crude markets, leaving fiscal positions largely neutral. Emerging economies, by contrast, face a structural trap: when crude rises, subsidy bills explode, draining public finances; when crude falls, governments retain windfall savings to offset accumulated deficits rather than passing relief to consumers. Sri Lanka’s cycle from collapse to liberalisation to renewed subsidies illustrates this vividly. Underlying this is a political economy ratchet, price hikes are unavoidable, but reductions are politically captured, making permanent reform structurally elusive.
(The writer, a senior Chartered
Accountant and professional banker,
is a professor at SLIIT, Malabe. Views expressed in this article are personal.)
Features
Eshan Malinga keeps getting them in the second half
Life keeps throwing hurdles in his way, but Eshan Malinga keeps vaulting over them. Take his February from hell. For several months, Malinga had been building up to his first ever World Cup, a dream for pretty much anyone who ever picks up a cricket ball. But a week before that World Cup, Malinga dislocated his non bowling shoulder while bowling, which the team’s medical staff have since described as a freak injury they had never seen before.
“I was devastated,” Malinga says. “On top of it being my first World Cup, it was also at home and I didn’t know when I would get that chance again. There were a few days there where I did absolutely nothing.”
And yet in mid-May, here he is grinning from atop a pile of 16 IPL wickets, having developed a serious reputation as a reverse-swing operator. Sunrisers Hyderabad’s explosive batters may have seized the spotlight in this frenetic IPL, but on the bowling front, no SRH bowler has neared Malinga’s wicket haul, which is fifth best in the season overall. In a year in which they have not had Pat Cummins for seven of their 11 matches, it is Malinga who has held down the fort, particularly in the second half of the innings.
But trading difficulty for success is just what Malinga does. What he has long been doing. Go back eight years and Malinga had never played a hard-ball cricket match. On top of which his home district of Ratnapura – at the base of Sri Lanka’s central hills – was better known for its gems and waterfalls than cricket, never having produced a men’s international. Malinga, additionally, was not even actively trying to be a cricketer. He had moved from his first school in a village called Opanayake to Ratnapura’s Sivali Central College due to strong academic results, and found, almost by accident, that his new school had a hard-ball cricket team.
But what Malinga knew at that point was that he could bowl fast. That much had been obvious growing up in Opanayaka, where despite his mother’s occasional misgivings, Malinga was highly sought after by the organisers of the village softball team (Sri Lanka has a thriving village-level softball cricket ecosystem). And as had been the case with the better-known Malinga, this one was also aware he possessed a killer yorker – a prized asset in every form of cricket, with any kind of ball.
If he’d been on track to be a softball legend, Malinga found his horizons began to expand at a spectacular rate the moment he got a hard ball in his hands. First, his yorker and his pace began to reap big wickets in the Division Three schools competition for Sivali Central, whose coach had immediately hoisted him into the team upon seeing Malinga bowl at practice one day. Then in mid-2019, about a year into playing hard-ball cricket, came the day he still reflects on as the one that changed his cricketing life. Having missed a fast-bowling competition in Ratnapura because he had been playing for his school that day, Malinga travelled to the hill town of Badulla to bowl in the competition there, and clocked 127kph on the gun, which was enough to win him first place.
This was when he first became a blip, however faint and distant, on Sri Lanka Cricket’s radar. Visions of a cricketing life began to appear as wisps of opportunity began to materialise. The next few years, Covid-riddled though they were, became a crash course into the sport for Malinga. There were coaching camps in Colombo in which the best of the rural talent was trained up and funnelled into a programme at the next level up. There were trials for first-class teams, and eventually a fledgling domestic career.
“I don’t know how many times I came to Colombo from Ratnapura during those times,” he laughs now. “It was a lot! I would leave home at about 3am, and the bus journey to Colombo took about three-and-a-half hours. Then I’d train or play the match, and the bus back home always took longer because of traffic. So every day, I was on the road for more than seven hours.”
The Malinga who made these exhausting daily commutes was, as far as the Sri Lankan cricket system was concerned, a bowler of decent rather than blinding promise. His pace had propelled him to the top of the regional pool, but at the first-class level he was still adapting his yorker and slower ball (another weapon he had developed in his softball days). If he needed another gear, Malinga found it – again almost by accident – sometime in 2022.
“I was playing an Under-23 three-day tournament, and I remember that being the first time I really started reverse-swinging the ball,” he says. “Coaches had anyway told me that with my action and my pace, it should be possible. But it started almost automatically. It’s not something I had to learn.
“But it wasn’t that easy, because it was a long process to learn how to control it. To get reverse swing, you have to release the ball at a different point than a straight ball, because you want it to still hit the stumps when it is swinging. So I scuffed up a lot of balls and trained hard to get that line right.”
And so, the Malinga that emerged at the end of 2022 had sharp enough pace, an excellent yorker, a developing slower ball, mountains of homespun tenacity, and had also discovered that he can naturally reverse-swing the ball earlier in an innings than most. You could have seen where this is going, right? All the ingredients of an ace white-ball bowler were there. And Malinga was already a master of turning wisps of opportunities into tangible advances. Over the next three years, he’d land a spot in the national fast-bowling academy, use that as a trampoline to impress in an Emerging Teams three-dayer against Bangladesh, and from there bounce into a stint at the MRF Pace Academy in 2024, before on the franchise side of things parlaying a trial at Rajasthan Royals at Kumar Sangakkara’s invitation into a decent run at the SA20 for Paarl Royals.
Having leapt up to the fringes of the Sri Lanka team over the past 18 months, Malinga has at this IPL now seized another unusual chance. The square at SRH’s home stadium is among the barest and most abrasive in the league, and Malinga’s reverse swing has prospered upon it. Of his 16 wickets this season, 11 have come at home. In the second half of the innings, when the ball is most likely to reverse, Malinga’s economy rate is 8.37 at a venue where runs have been scored at 9.38 in that period this season.
Malinga had put in a robust 2025 season for SRH as well, so there is a body of work emerging there. Perhaps this is why this year, SRH’s bowling plans have tended to follow the contours of Malinga’s own game.
“After six overs the ball gets damaged here, so we needed to make use of that. When I bowled at practice, the ball reversed, so I think a plan emerged where we were going to use the scuffed up ball and take advantage of that.
“In the first powerplay the ball comes on to the bat nicely here. After that we try to get the advantage of having an older ball. We’ve got bowlers who bowl 140kph-plus, and we have Pat Cummins, who also reverses the ball. So we make sure to look after the ball in a way that will give us reverse.”
At 25, eight years into a serious cricket career, Malinga sees himself as a work in progress. He wants to work on his powerplay bowling. His variations, he thinks, still need some work. He’d like to play Tests, where his reverse swing could really stretch its legs. And, oh, he is still waiting to play that first World Cup.
Even here, his keen nose for opportunity leads him. He points out through the course of our conversation that where the three previous World Cups had been played with a new ball at either end being used right through the innings, the next World Cup, in 2027, will feature rules that seem at least partially designed to enhance reverse swing, an older ball more suited to the craft now available towards the end of the innings.
He isn’t even a sure-fire pick in Sri Lanka’s ODI XI just yet, so this is just a flicker of an opportunity for now. But having made the journey from the village of Opanayaka to the most raucous cricketing showpiece on the planet, Malinga knows just what to do with those.
[Cricinfo]
Features
High Stakes in Pursuing corruption cases
The death of the most important suspect in the Sri Lankan Airlines Airbus deal has drawn intense public speculation. Kapila Chandrasena the former CEO of the heavily loss-making national airline was found dead under circumstances that the police are still investigating.
He had recently been arrested by the Commission to Investigate Allegations of Bribery or Corruption in connection with the controversial Airbus aircraft purchase agreement signed in 2013. Police investigations are continuing into the cause of death and whether or not he committed suicide. The unresolved death brings to light the high stakes involved in accountability efforts of this nature.
The uncertainty surrounding Chandrasena’s death has revived public memories of other mysterious deaths linked to corruption investigations and public scandals. Among them is the death of Rajeewa Jayaweera, a former SriLankan Airlines executive and outspoken critic of the Airbus transaction. He was following in the tradition of his father, the late foreign service officer and public servant Stanley Jayaweera who mentored the younger generation in good governance practices and formed the group “Avadhi Lanka” along with icons such as Prof Siri Hettige. Rajeewa had written a series of articles exposing irregularities in the deal before he was found dead near Independence Square in Colombo in 2020. The CCTV cameras in that high security area were turned off. Questions raised at that time whether or not he had committed suicide were not satisfactorily resolved.
The controversy about the cause of Chandrasena’s death is diverting attention away from the massive damage done to the country by the SriLankan Airlines deal itself. The value of the aircraft agreement was close to the size of the International Monetary Fund bailout package that Sri Lanka desperately needed by 2023 in order to stabilise the economy after bankruptcy. Sri Lanka’s IMF Extended Fund Facility amounted to about USD 3 billion spread over four years. The comparison shows the scale of the losses and liabilities that irresponsible and corrupt decisions have imposed on the country and which must never happen again.
Wider Pattern
The corruption linked to the Airbus transaction came fully into the open only because of investigations conducted outside Sri Lanka. In 2020 Airbus agreed to pay record penalties of more than EUR 3.6 billion to authorities in Britain, France and the United States to settle global corruption investigations. Sri Lanka was identified as one of the countries where bribes had allegedly been paid in order to secure contracts. The Airbus deal involved the purchase of six A330 aircraft and four A350 aircraft valued at approximately USD 2.3 billion. Investigations showed that Airbus paid bribes amounting to nearly USD 16 million in order to secure the contract. According to court submissions, at least part of this money amounting to USD 2 million was transferred through a shell company registered in Brunei and routed through Singapore bank accounts linked to the late airline CEO and his wife.
The commissions involved in this deal may seem comparatively small compared to the overall value of the contracts but devastating in their consequences. But they also show that a few million dollars paid secretly to decision makers could lead to the country assuming liabilities worth hundreds of millions or even billions of dollars over decades. This is why corruption is not simply a moral issue. It is a direct economic assault on the living standards of ordinary people. Money lost through corruption is money unavailable for schools, hospitals, rural development and job creation. In the end the burden falls on ordinary citizens who are left to repay debts incurred in their name without receiving commensurate benefits in return.
The SriLankan Airlines transaction gives an indication of the wider pattern of corruption and misuse of national resources that has taken place over many years. This was not an isolated incident. There were numerous large scale infrastructure and procurement projects that imposed heavy debts on the country while enriching politically connected individuals and their associates. Other projects such as the Colombo Port City, Hambantota Harbour and highway construction reveal a similar pattern.
Less publicised but equally damaging scandals have involved fertiliser medicine and energy contracts. Investigations into medicine procurement in recent years uncovered allegations that substandard pharmaceuticals had been imported at inflated prices causing both financial losses and risks to public health.
Moral Renewal
The present government appears determined to investigate major corruption cases in a manner that no previous government has attempted. Those who ransacked and bankrupted the treasury need to be dealt with according to the law. There is considerable public support for efforts to recover stolen assets and ensure accountability.
In his May Day speech President Anura Kumara Dissanayake stated that around 14 corruption cases were nearing completion in the courts this very month and called upon the public to applaud when verdicts are delivered. Political opponents of the government claim that such comments could place pressure on the judiciary and blur the separation between political leadership and the courts. But the deeper public frustration that underlies the president’s remarks also needs to be understood.
The challenge facing Sri Lanka is twofold. The country must ensure that justice is done through due process and independent institutions. If anti corruption campaigns become politicised they can lose legitimacy. But if corruption and abuse of power continue without consequences the country will remain trapped in a cycle of economic decline and moral decay. Sri Lanka also needs to confront past abuses linked to the war period. There are allegations of kidnapping, extortion, disappearances and criminal activity in which members of the security forces have been implicated. Vulnerable sections of the population suffered greatly during those years. If political leaders turned a blind eye or actively connived in such crimes they too need to be held accountable under the law. Selective justice will not heal the country. Accountability must apply across the board regardless of political position, ethnicity or institutional power.
Sri Lanka has paid a very heavy price for corruption and impunity. The economic collapse of 2022 did not occur overnight. It was the result of years of bad governance, reckless decision making, abuse of power and the misuse of public wealth. If the country is to move forward the focus cannot be diverted by sensational speculation alone. Suspicious deaths and political intrigue may dominate headlines for a few days. But the larger issue is the system that enabled corruption to flourish without accountability for so long. The real national task is to end that system. Sri Lanka cannot build a prosperous future on a foundation of corruption and impunity. Unless those who looted public wealth are held accountable and the systems that enabled them are dismantled, the country risks repeating the same cycle again.
Jehan Perera
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