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Policy Making and Execution in Agriculture

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By Gamini Seneviratne

HIGHLAND COLONISATION

It’s been a long time since the thought had occurred to me and/or I’ve been asked by concerned people, mostly scholars or would-be scholars to write about our post-Independence experience in policymaking in the various sectors I served in. My friend, the late S B D de Silva, (for those who have no knowledge of his work, I refer to his “The Political Economy of Underdevelopment”, in which he employed Keynesian economics as deconstructed by its application to ground realities – a book that demands translation into other languages), was particularly insistent that I write of the much-maligned industrial policy of the 1970s. He would also, till his last years, phone me at odd hours asking for my views on some aspect of plantation agriculture.

What agitated S B D was that he had been Director of Industrial Policy and Economic Research before moving towards agrarian studies. I was brought into the Ministry of Industries and Scientific Affairs as Director / Regulation of Industries in the late 1972. (My functions there had to do with the disbursement of foreign exchange ‘quotas’ among manufacturing industries to enable them to import raw material and machinery for their operation). Not long after I came there, I was appointed, in addition, to take over the functions (Policy and Research) that had been S B D’s beat. I shall revert to questions of industrial policy later.

My first encounters with agriculture, as a public servant, was in Matara in 1965. As AGA there my primary duties had to do with the development of the Highland Colonisation (HC) Schemes that had been established for the cultivation of tea. (Despite the publicity given here and abroad to ‘the plight of estate workers’, today and for several decades now, such ‘small-holdings’ have produced the bulk of our tea – around 70%. Several years later, I had the task of editing the Bill drafted by Wickrema Gunasekera under which the Tea Small Holdings Authority was set up. More on that is due in the interests of public policy relating to the system of ‘plantations’ the inefficiencies of which S B D exposed in his ‘Political Economy’).

Matara had established several such colonies off Pitabeddara on a roadway that runs towards the district boundary between Matara and Galle. They were serviced by the Derangala factory owned and operated by the State Plantations Corporation (SPC). Another set of colonies was being opened between Morawaka and Hiniduma, supported by Kalubovitiyana, a new factory that was brought into operation during my tenure in Matara. These two factories were quite capable of processing all the leaf produced in the HCs (the SPC had another factory, Delgoda, in Ratnapura District). Private factories, hungry for leaf, had begun to raid the HCs and were offering higher prices than the SPC.

Price per pound [lb] of leaf payable by the factory was determined on a simple formula: the net sale average (NSA) of made tea at auction divided by the out-turn – which was taken to be around 22 %, roughly four and a half pounds of green leaf to a pound of made tea. Prices at auction for low grown teas being low in the mid-1960s, the NSA was usually below one rupee – which meant below 20 cents per pound of leaf. After deducting for water, coarse leaf, weight of gunny bag … the SPC paid 16 – 17 cents – and the private factories cashed in, paying, say, a cent or two more. The producers shifted towards them, the SPC gathered less leaf than could be economically processed, its losses went up – it was all a mess. The SPC claimed the private factories could pay more because they cheated on the weight of the leaf they collected. I asked for a meeting at the SPC – which they were happy to grant.

That didn’t turn out well for them. The price data for the last auction was on the wall in their Board Room – and the prices for Derangala and Delgoda had been interchanged. Recriminations, apologies (the SPC Chairman was an impressive man who had been a top officer at Inland Revenue or a Bank). He agreed to adjust the payment for that week, I agreed that the weighing mechanisms used by the bought-leaf factories should be checked.

That took a bit of doing, getting our transport and personnel (led by the Weights & Measures Inspectors) into place as secretly as possible. The private lorries were ignored as they came in as usual, were stopped on the way out, their weighing scales checked. On average they registered 5 lbs less than the true weight. All were charged, taken to court, tried and fined. All the lorries belonged to a politician of the ruling party, the UNP. There was no change in the verdicts, but it all added up to other unwelcome developments that made my transfer out of the district desirable.

What was most visible to the agitation of bought-leaf factory operators was that the SPC factories began to thrive – and, what was truly annoying, the small-holdings began to improve the quantity and quality of their leaf (that meant better prices at the auction for the SPC and a couple of cents more for leaf).

It had to do also with the economies of scale and when it looked as if more land would be brought under HCs some distance away – that would be good if the SPC didn’t get the leaf. But if the quantities were right the transport would pay for itself.

There was an HCS already at Rotumba on the eastern end of the district; it had been there for a few years but the allottees had not moved in. I happened to go that way on my first day at Matara and the DRO, S E T Jayasinghe, a campus colleague told me about it. The beneficiaries of Rotumba were to be mostly the wrong people led by the previous President of the MPCS and the new President, the mudalali with a paddy mill, a van and the big sillara kade, a natural supporter of the UNP, obstructed the expected influx of people ‘of the other side’. He did this by simply occupying the land allotted to the previous President and refusing to construct the access road to the Scheme. Two years on there were just two allottees on the land meant for 100 and I found the Colonisation Officer (CO) at home rubbing after-shave into his chin.

He chose to move out, a senior OLDO (Overseer for Land Development) who had served in that area and was a CO was brought in. The MP came to protest, along with the mudalali and the law was explained to him. He said it was a political problem for him and his man was given an extra fortnight to vacate the encroachment. When I went there, there had been no change on the ground. The mudalali was ordered to remove the fence to the encroached land, he moved to do so, the Grama Sevaka and others ripped it all off and within a few months Rotumba was active with the land prepared by some 80 families who were ready to move in.

An initiative to establish a Youth Settlement Scheme for the cultivation of tea met with much opposition from politicians, local and at parliament level. It had to do with caste – a factor that had not been taken account of in selecting young men for the project. The settlement was to be located around Ginneliya, above Urubokka in the jungle that extended towards Katuwana (where a fort built by the Dutch still existed).

I discussed the project with senior planters in that area, Douglas Jayawickrema of ‘Berabeula’ and R L Pereira of, I think, ‘Deniyaya’ estate. Gunam Thambipillai of Pitabeddara and Rajah Senewiratne, Superintendent of the SPC factories were constantly at hand for consultation: indeed, they were the primary designers of the lay out for the internal roadways, the wadiyas, the residential and other buildings. Both trudged through the forest with me to work out such detail.

Applications were called from young men in the vicinity, and they were interviewed at a ‘Land Kachcheri’ – one where a Land Officer normally ‘screens’ a hundred applicants in a day. This was different: two teams of a Land Officer and a senior Agriculture extension officer were given that task. So painstaking was their scrutiny of the applicants that they took three days to conclude the selection process. I dropped by for an hour or so each day.

When the selections were made, I submitted the list to the GA, Francis Pietersz, who approved it.

And all hell broke loose. It was alleged that I had selected ‘reds’. The managers of major plantations in the area, including Berabeula and Deniyaya complained to me that I had taken their best workers. But that was of no account; the MPs for Deniyaya and Hakmana sent out telegrams flying everywhere from the Prime Minister down, demanding that I be transferred out of Matara.

So it was done: I was sent to the Ministry of Agriculture ‘with immediate effect’.

And, with no further delay, the first Youth Settlement Scheme in the country was buried before the youth moved in. Evidently, the MPs’ supporters had their own version of a land kachcheri, made their selections – and sent them to the site at Ginneliya to grow cinnamon.

It was the year that straddled mid-1965 and mid-1966.



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BRICS upholds inclusive growth; re-affirms South-South cooperation

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BRICS political leaders at the 2026 New Delhi summit.(BBC)

A principal highlight of the recently concluded BRICS 2026 summit in New Delhi was the grouping’s unambiguous championing of the empowerment of ordinary people everywhere. This was yet another notable coming together of Southern governments over matters of common concern alright but it was the grouping’s people-oriented thinking that struck the impartial commentator as particularly important this time around.

The latter accent merits underscoring in view of the widespread perception that Southern oriented international organizations, such as the Non-aligned Movement (NAM), have had their day, so to speak. However the BRICS summit not only re-affirmed NAM principles but gave proof of its willingness to complement the main undertakings of NAM. Accordingly, causes such as South-South cooperation, international economic and social equity, multilateralism, international peace and the need to uphold the current UN-centred world order received resounding and fresh emphasis.

Particularly encouraging for those espousing Southern development concerns was the stressing of the historic ‘Bandung Principles’ in the New Delhi Declaration which crowned the summit deliberations. As is known, it was the ‘Bandung Spirit’ of 1955 that paved the way for the establishment of NAM and South-South cooperation in a major way. As such the ‘Spirit’ was primary in helping to reshape international development discourse and in giving it a pro-people bent. That is, development correctly conceived was birthed.

The New Delhi Declaration said in this regard: ‘We recall the 1955 Asian-African Conference in Bandung, Indonesia that proclaimed general principles, including equality, independence, non-intervention and mutual benefit. We stress that the Bandung Sprit serves as a reference in the pursuit of a fairer, more inclusive, and representative multilateral system.’

‘Geopolitics’ was not glossed over or ignored in New Delhi, but it is quite forgotten by some sections of opinion in particularly Sri Lanka that BRICS, while being an important Southern counter-balance in terms of power to the global North is also essentially about international economic growth with equity. The New Delhi summit helped to put right this conceptual imbalance in what groupings such as BRICS ought to be thinking and doing.

Even more precisely, people should be at the heart of development and in the exertions and preoccupations of international organizations claiming to represent the South. Southern governments equipped with economic and military might in particular remain important but it is people’s empowerment that ought to be the overriding consideration.

The latter concerns help stress the cruciality of democratic development since it is the latter that facilitates best the well being of people. Unfortunately, BRICS happens to be top-heavy with authoritarian governments that could deliver economic growth but not equity. It is fully representative, participatory governance that could best deliver to the people their essential needs and not totalitarian governments.

This is a complex dilemma for BRICS. It could be resolved somewhat by admitting more and more pro-people, democratic states into the BRICS fold to counter-balance the power and influence of authoritarian states. At present among the principal BRICS countries its only India that meets most of the criteria for democratic development.

Hopefully, more and more Southern democracies would see it fit to join BRICS in consideration of the latter’s potential to be a prime ‘economic powerhouse’ of the world. Equally hopefully, people’s empowerment in the true sense would come to be valued as a crucial merit for BRICS membership. It is relevant to stress that the fulfillment of the fundamental rights of a people is integral to their complete empowerment.

A grave negative fallout from the Trump administration’s current militarism is that more and more states world wide would come to value military heft over people’s empowerment. Consequently, the preference for military power could lead to countries wanting BRICS membership for the wrong reasons. That is, security through collective armed might would come to matter over all else and the world would be rendered an increasingly ‘dangerous place’.

But thinking people would expect from BRICS a more responsible role in world affairs and prefer to have from it inspirational guidance in democratic development, correctly understood.

A commitment by BRICS at the summit of considerable importance to world peace that should not be underplayed is its commitment to the UN system and the strengthening of International Law. The relevant quote from the Declaration spoke of BRICS’ ‘Commitment to strengthening multilateralism and multi-polarity and upholding International Law, including the Purposes and Principles of the Charter of the United Nations.’

Coming at a time when the UN is seen by some as a spent force, lacking effectiveness, the above endorsement of the UN Charter and International Law is of crucial significance. This amounts to solidly upholding the post World War Two order despite current largely rhetorical assertions that it is fast unraveling.

While UN reform remains a compelling necessity, the endorsement of the UN-centred order holds out the possibility of some of the BRICS heavyweights, who are currently acting in violation of International Law, eventually getting back to conduct that would be more in keeping with the requirements of International Law.

The UN could put these developments to constructive use by redoubling its efforts to work out diplomatic solutions to the current conflicts and wars that are showing no signs of being receptive to fresh peace efforts.

Two of these theatres of conflict are the Middle East and the Ukraine. While the US, Israel, Russia and Iran would need to be engaged by the UN with exceptional persuasive power to sort out the conflicts where they have come to feature directly and indirectly, the relevant BRICS members’ commitments to world peace and multilateralism could be used as instruments of moral pressure perhaps to induce them to get onto the path of peaceful conflict resolution.

The wide consensus among the BRICS powers amounts to their scoring a significant political victory over the US and its allies. Their espousal of international peace and the UN Charter exposes the US as being at cross purposes with peace-oriented and democratic sections world wide. Specifically, the moral and intellectual poverty of the Trump administration is being revealed glaringly.

This does not amount to a condemnation of the people of the US perse. It is just that some of them have voted quite unwisely. As a first step towards correcting this situation they could make good use of the upcoming mid term elections to register their strong disapproval of the Trump administration and the political extremists among the US Right. Course correction is not impossible.

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Not I — We: A new uniform will mean nothing if the person inside it is left behind

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by Mahil Dole

Senior Superintendent of Police (Retd.)

Sri Lanka Police has just marked 160 years. The parades were in order. The sentence that should have followed them has not been written with enough force. A police service that is pulled by politics, rewarded for individual glory and tried every night on social media cannot protect a country that is now a maritime hinge for international narcotics and financial crime. The political authority must decide, not in a speech, but in conduct, whether this force belongs to the law or to the loudest faction of the week.

That is not a plea. It is a warning.

The political hierarchy and the police hierarchy now agree that the service needs a new outlook, beginning with the uniform. The cut and the kit are not yet settled. That conversation is overdue. Criminals have moved into containers, encrypted apps and international logistics. An officer equipped for a quieter decade is less able to detect, and less able to come home.

Sophistication of kit is essential. Body-worn cameras, communications and protective equipment that match the threat are not luxuries. They keep a policeman alive.

If the first decision of this compact is only what the officer will wear, the wrapping will be modern and the person untouched. The priority is not a new silhouette. It is a different person inside the uniform.

The officer is a human being

He and she is a product of this complicated society. The fractures that run through the village, the school and the social-media feed run through the recruit. Communal suspicion, religious identity and ethnic memory are not checked at the armoury gate. The question treated as delicate is operational: is this officer mentally geared for ordinary crime and for communal, religious and ethnic conflict?

What is his stand if he belongs to one community and is sent into a dispute involving another? How will the parties look at him? How will the media frame the first photograph? That decides whether a crowd sees the law or “the other side.” We are all Sri Lankans. The sentence is easy on a Police Day banner. It is hard at a junction when rumour is already ahead of the patrol.

Every officer, from constable to gazetted rank, must be trained for these issues as deliberately as for a baton. Not one lecture at Katukurunda: recurring, scenario-based work on mixed neighbourhoods, mixed complainants, and keeping personal faith out of the method of work. The media will hunt the communal angle; parties to a conflict will hunt the ethnic one. The only answer that holds is an officer whose first identity on duty is Sri Lankan and whose first loyalty is the law.

That is “We.” Assuming the uniform dissolves identity is how a single incident becomes a national story.

What they have been is not what they can remain

From the 1866 ordinance this service has been the state’s civilian arm, colonial order-keeping, post-independence law and order, then a wartime partner that buried its dead beside the armed forces. Specialised units were built for terrorism, organised crime and financial intelligence. The same institution was used as a residual army, a political instrument and a promotion marketplace. Loyalty too often attached to a person, not to the law. Easter Sunday made the price visible. So did every file that moved, or stalled, according to who was in office.

A history of sacrifice does not excuse a present of capture. It makes the capture more shameful.

What they are today

On paper the force is large, some 79,000 authorised, 609 stations. On the ground it is thin. More than 4,300 officers have left since 2020. Vacancies exceed 30,000. Shifts of twelve to eighteen hours are still treated as normal. Distress is still logged as discipline rather than welfare. That is waste, not toughness.

Crime has two faces, and both strike national security. Gang violence over narcotics still produces shootings. Sri Lanka also sits on feeder routes moving Afghan and Pakistani product toward other markets. Harbour and high-sea detections in the hundreds of kilograms are no longer rare. Ice hidden in towels at Colombo Port; heroin pulled from multi-day trawlers; scam compounds and frozen assets in the billions of rupees, these are not “ordinary crime.” They buy influence and fund the next consignment.

The third battlefield is information. Reels and anonymous accounts impersonate officers, launder rumour as fact, and reward the man who seeks a following. Inside the service the culture still teaches “I”: my file, my photograph, my briefing. Rank is being treated as a prize. It is a trust.

The container that became a campaign

Late August 2026, officers opened containers at the Colombo International Container Terminal and recovered some 463 to 472 kilograms of crystal methamphetamine, concealed in towels, originating from Pakistan and valued in the billions of rupees. Suspects including foreign nationals were arrested. The United States DEA publicly associated itself with the intelligence. The criminal case sits with the Central Crime Investigation Bureau.

That is a success. It should have been protected as a success.

Instead, an internal process review, ordered by the Inspector General into how information moved between bureaux, was translated on social media into another story: that the IGP and Senior DIG Ranmal Kodituwakku were being “chambered” over the detection. An Opposition MP warned, correctly, that putting the officers who delivered the raid under a public microscope will teach the service the wrong lesson.

State the distinction without apology. A criminal file is about the network and the money. A process file is about timelines and chain of custody. A blog is neither. Collapsing a Senior DIG’s recorded statement into “the hierarchy is in the dock” is not accountability. It is a gift to those who packed the towels. After a half-tonne interdiction, a process review is normal; leaking it as a morality play is not. Complete the inquiry on the record. If negligence is found, deal with it. If not, say so. Half-spoken files let rumour colonise the institution.

Training, technology and a mind that can bear the load

The IGP and the hierarchy must stop treating training as a calendar ornament. Immediate programmes are required, not next year’s paper.

First

, the evolving issues: communal and religious tension, narrative operations, child and women protection, financial and cyber crime, harbour interdiction, the law of arrest.

Second

, the technologies: digital evidence, data protection under the Personal Data Protection Act, disciplined open-source work, body-worn cameras that protect the public and officers alike.

Third

, mental health as operational infrastructure, counselling an Inspector can use without becoming a Legal Division case, and early recognition of burnout before it becomes a headline.

Incentives must follow: allowances for certified competencies, promotion credit for courses applied, not for attendance photographs. Asking for sophistication at the port with no path to acquire it is theatre.

A new uniform that can carry a camera, worn by an officer unprepared for the society he polices, is a costume. The station, the cell, the unseen hour Look next at where this officer lives and works. Many stations are old, congested and unhygienic. Living standards on duty are low. You cannot demand a different person in the uniform and house him as if he were expendable.

Cells are a particular failure of command. Too many sit out of sight of the men on duty. They are dilapidated. What happens inside goes unnoticed until a death, an assault or an escape. That is a design of our own buildings, not a secret of the underworld. A cell that cannot be seen cannot be defended in court or in conscience. Refurbish, fix sightlines, monitor what the Constitution requires, and treat an escape as a failure of supervision before it becomes a press note.

These are not welfare extras. They are the conditions under which evidence is kept, suspects are held, and officers decide whether the job is still worth the family cost.

The health of the officer is the health of the public

One of the first duties of the hierarchy is the health of the policeman and his family. A sick officer with a sick child is not “uncommitted.” He is a risk to himself, to the next raid, and to the citizen at the counter. Police hospitals are few. Officers in rural stations cannot reach them in time. The IGP should not wait for a building programme. Speak to the health authorities now. Arrange priority access for officers and their families at government hospitals. Dedicated wards or reserved beds are not a privilege class. They are the minimum owed to people sent into harm, and into other people’s crises, at every hour.

Good health is a good mind. A good mind is good care for the people. No uniform compensates for an officer who has not slept, has not been treated, and cannot reach a Police hospital.

What they must be tomorrow

The country does not need more decoration. It needs a service the public can approach without fear and that no politician can casually redirect: intelligence-led against networks that threaten the state; digitally capable and legally bounded; trained for communal heat as well as narcotics; housed and treated as human beings; collectively minded. We hold the ground, not I cleared the file.

The constable at the junction and the analyst tracing a hawala chain are the same institution. National security is not a specialist’s private property.

To the policymakers and the political authority

You have agreed with the Police hierarchy on a new outlook. Use it for more than cloth.

Independence is not the IGP’s personal autonomy. It is the institution’s ability to apply the law without fear or favour, and still answer to the law. You cannot have that and also have a Police summoned, transferred or publicly undermined according to the needs of the week.

Appointment and removal of the Inspector General must remain a process, not patronage. The National Police Commission must exercise its powers over promotions, transfers and discipline without being hectored from the gallery. Cabinet sets policy and budget. It does not choose Tuesday’s suspect. Comment from the House on the guilt of named officers while a file is open is not oversight. It is interference under another name.

If you want an apolitical Police, stop using internal inquiry as a factional weapon and social media as a substitute bench. Different treatment of files is the old disease. Naming it only when the officer is someone you dislike is the same disease.

Then fund what a new uniform implies: immediate training, habitable stations, cells that can be seen, and a health arrangement with the Ministry of Health that does not leave a rural sergeant’s family outside the gate. Announcing kit and withholding living conditions is not reform. It is dressing the service for a photograph.

The public has a part. Distinguish error from crime. Cooperate with the officer who is fair; demand consequences where he is not. In conflict, look at the uniform as the law, not as a census of name, faith or village. Do not outsource judgement to an anonymous account.

The stand It is not I. It should be We.

A new uniform will not make an officer Sri Lankan. Training, health, housing, an apolitical file, and a command that treats him as a human being might. A service that thinks in individual glory will be outrun by networks that think in systems. A political class that thinks in capture will keep receiving detections and wondering why the pipeline never closes. A country that argues about the cloth while the person inside it is exhausted, untrained for communal fire, and unseen in a dilapidated cell block is not preparing for tomorrow. It is rearranging the wardrobe.

The law cannot serve two masters. Neither can the uniform, old or new.

(This analysis is offered in the interest of national security, institutional reform, and public safety)

Mahil Dole, SSP (Retd.), served as Deputy Director in charge of the Counter-Terrorism Desk of the State Intelligence Service and later as Intelligence Coordinator to the Inspector General of Police. He is a former Member of the Sri Lanka Wakfs Board and author of Security Beyond Enforcement: Practical Approaches for a Safer Nation. Email – mahildole54@gmail.com

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The Miss World 2026 scene …

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History was made under the lights on 05th September, as Joheirry Mola Dominguez, of the Dominican Republic, was crowned Miss World 2026 by outgoing queen Suchata Chuangsri of Thailand at April 2nd Square in Nha Trang, Vietnam.

It is only the second Miss World title for the Dominican Republic; 44 years after Mariasela Álvarez’s win in 1982. Reports described it as an “emotional and historic moment” for the nation.

Joheirry, 24, beat 110 other delegates to take the crown.

A dedicated educator and community advocate, she holds a degree in Business Management and Administration from Universidad Iberoamericana. She is Founder and President of “Voices of Tomorrow”, an initiative expanding access to English education for children in vulnerable communities. She also teaches Literature and Social Studies in English, and works as a correspondent for Univision New York’s Ventana a Quisqueya.

Her advocacy won hearts

It was her advocacy that won hearts.

“My Beauty With a Purpose is to take English programmes to kids in vulnerable communities,”

she said at the Grand Final. “Because I believe that when they know this language, the opportunities, the doors that can open to their life, it’s huge. English is a tool that will stay with them and benefit them for the rest of their lives.”

Spain’s Elisabeth Reynés finished 1st Runner-Up, while Malaysia’s Taanusiya Chetty, also winner of Beauty With a Purpose, took 2nd Runner-Up.

The Top 6 included Vietnam’s Le Nguyen Bao Ngoc, Eritrea’s Snit Habteab, and South Africa’s Romanda Hombir.

The 75th Anniversary edition, hosted for the first time in Vietnam, was a spectacle before 20,000 spectators. Staged on a 110+ meter outdoor platform by Nha Trang beach, the square was lit up with huge LED screens and high-power sound.

Even heavy rain during the Americas & Caribbean segment couldn’t dampen spirits. Umbrellas and raincoats popped up and the show resumed 15 minutes later. Nobody left. That’s dedication.

With 111 ambassadors, cultural dances, ao dai performances, and the seaside backdrop, officials called it a celebration of beauty, talent, confidence, and social responsibility.

With 20,000 people, rain or shine, screaming, cheering, live-streaming, waving flags… it was, indeed, pure Miss World magic.

For Sri Lanka, Prathibha Liyanaarachchi did not make the Top 40 at the 73rd Miss World Festival, but she reached the finalist stages of four fast-track events — Top Model, Talent, Sports, and Beauty With a Purpose.

Miss World magic: The square was lit up with huge LED screens and high-power sound

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