Features
Recalling the glorious Caribbean
Excerpted from Memories that linger: My journey through the world of disability
by Padmani Mendis
I have visited the islands of the Caribbean on many occasions primarily to introduce Community Based Rehabilitation (CBR) and for field evaluations carried out in St. Lucia and Jamaica. On other occasions, to introduce the concept and the strategy to decision makers – as in Barbados, Grenada and the Bahamas. These islands in the Caribbean were perhaps best known to us in Sri Lanka as the West Indies. The song sung by Harry Belafonte had of course made one of them, namely Jamaica, known the world over as his “Island In The Sun“.
The West Indies, one might say, was like India, a creation of the British as an approach in granting independence. In India, the British brought together princely states to form one country and in spite of the vastness, succeeded. But with these small islands, the same tactic failed. Within a few years each of the 10 countries that formed the federation became independent. The name West Indies however stuck and the countries share some things in common – like their cricket team. This has not changed, and we still know them best for their skills in the game of cricket as well as for their enjoyment of the game.
They had perhaps, inherited their interest in cricket through their link with the British, having been conquered by those colonials and then, like us, been part of the great British Empire. I cannot say however that the skill and the enjoyment of the game of cricket were inherited from the British.
The skill looks inborn and the enjoyment inherent. Both were of a singularly and uniquely Caribbean nature. No international player can match the cricket played by Walcott, Weekes and Worrell, or more recently by Brian Lara at the wicket. No bowler has yet come on par with “those two little pals of mine, Ramadhin and Valentine”.
I first went to the West Indies with this cricket calypso ringing in my years:
Cricket luvverly Cricket,
At Lord’s where I saw it;
Yardley tried his best,
But Godard won the test,
With those two little pals of mine,
Ramadhin and Valentine
.‘Lord Beginner’ 1950
The people of the West Indies had their own style of music and of dance. And they broke into song and dance at the slightest provocation, as it were. Both descending no doubt from their mixed African and Spanish heritage.
For the people of the Caribbean were of an exceptionally mixed race. I saw this at once when I first met them. Their skin was of all hues of brown, black and white – and sometimes the white face even had that pink tint in it. Their hair similarly ranged from being frizzled to straight and all waves of in between. But one feature I missed – I never saw any native blondes, or red heads for that matter. They varied in body-build from the African to the Caucasian.
I recall the first time I walked into a bank in Barbados. It was new and spotlessly clean. With a distinct air of discipline about it. The radio was on and it was playing – calypso music of course. And to that infectious rhythm, the staff all dressed alike in light and dark shades of blue, each in their seats and focused on their work, were moving smoothly to the rhythm of it. It mattered not whether it was unconsciously or subconsciously. It was just such a delightful scene.
Jamaica
On my first visit to Jamaica I was surprised to meet an old friend, Marjorie Forrester, Director of the School of Physiotherapy.
I was happy to meet Marjorie on this first brief visit to Jamaica. She and I had come to know each other in London. We had followed together the Two-year Diploma Course in the Teaching of Physiotherapy some 20 years earlier. While I was at Guy’s Hospital in London, she was in Nottingham. But we met during our four semesters at the Polytechnic of North London and had become friends. Even on this visit, she invited me to her home so I could meet her husband Huntley. He was a very active leader in the Disability Movement in the Caribbean, and one who was full of fun with many jokes he shared generously.
I was a frequent visitor to their home on subsequent visits to Jamaica. In her home Marjorie arranged for me to meet many friends of Huntley’s, all with experience of disability. So we enjoyed healthy discussion and debate. And they needed some persuasion to accept CBR. But persuaded they were.
But one evening at Marjorie’s turned out to be rather embarrassing. Marjorie wanted me to meet someone who was doing some work also in disability and also as a Consultant for the WHO. She was from Canada. She specialised in sexual concerns in people who had paraplegia and other such paralyses.
She was very much against the idea of CBR which she believed to be giving a very poor quality of rehabilitation to poor people in poor countries. She challenged me with this her belief. And I was foolish enough to take her on. An unnecessarily heated argument ensued for which I later apologised profusely to Marjorie and Huntley. But what was done was done. Defending CBR was not new to me. But getting so worked up about it was. I knew I should have had better control of myself.
But worse was to come, as Marjorie informed me later. Marjorie had driven her to the airport the next day. On the way she wanted Marjorie to stop at the General Hospital in Kingston. There she went to the Physiotherapy Department, called all the therapists together and asked them to look out. She warned them that Padmani Mendis had come with some low-quality care and they would all soon be out of a job.
As I said earlier, criticisms by specialised professionals was not new. I did face this occasionally. I was happy when soon, as a profession, they would accept CBR when their global professional body, the World Confederation of Physical Therapy, stopped resisting, and finally did recognise it.
Where to Stay in Lucea, Jamaica
After introducing the project in St. Lucia, I realised that CBR development in so many islands of the West Indies would need guidance and support from someone like me for quite some time. I suggested to Dr. Hindley-Smith and Dr. Harold Drayton that it may be prudent to find me a counterpart from within the region rather than get me down each time from far away Sri Lanka. It should be a professional who could work with me when I went next to Jamaica. She or he should have the capacity to continue the tasks that I was presently doing.
So when I went to Jamaica the second time, I was joined by Geraldine Maison, later Maison-Halls. She was a physiotherapist and one with a charming personality. We got on famously with each other and were of immense mutual help. Geraldine thereafter did work in CBR for many years, both as a staff member of WHO, Geneva and in her own country, Guyana.
When we went to Lucea in Jamaica the question was where we would stay. We could have found a home prepared to keep us as paying guests in this small town. But no, someone from the health centre had a better suggestion, “How about Miss Katie?” We were told that Miss Katie was an elderly Jamaican who lived on her sugar plantation. A message was sent to Miss Katie to ask if she would have us. Geraldine and I moved in with Miss Katie that evening.
Miss Katie’s sugar plantation was not an active one. It was not profitable to grow sugar any more, she told us later. The sugar land was overgrown and was taken over by masses of grass. The uneven dirt roadway was just about clear enough for us to drive through. Then suddenly we came upon this caricature-like two-storied wooden house, appearing to be almost as if it were crumbling from age. And in this we found Miss Katie – a warm, generous and motherly “old lady”.
I had to use those words “old lady”. The word “elderly” was too cold to describe Miss Katie’s warmth – a warmth that oozed through her every pore. And her majesty. This small-made lady on the verge of bending in two – majesty, no other word but that.
And so Geraldine and I had a wonderful stay in Lucea. It was a 20-mile drive each way from our work but what was that? I will tell you more about it soon. Miss Katie had not known any guests for quite some time. She derived so much pleasure from just fussing over us and feeding us. In her garden Miss Katie had a chillie plant bearing green chillies that soon turned red. Every evening by my dinner plate I would find on a little silver tray one of her precious home-grown chillies. She knew that coming from Sri Lanka I appreciated that added taste in my food.
A car to drive
When I was at the WHO office on my first day in Kingston, a logistical problem that was difficult to solve was my transport. It was clear that the WHO had to provide me with a chauffeur-driven vehicle to take me to Lucea and back, a distance of over 200 miles taking over four hours of driving. And the chauffeur had to stay on to drive me around Lucea too. I waived immediately the requirement of a chauffeur. I could drive myself. But I did require a car.
Listening in to the discussion was a professional from Denmark employed on a WHO project in Jamaica. He had just been given for his use a new Toyota saloon purchased by his project. We had conversed previously and I had told him about my experience working as a physiotherapist in Denmark and how much I had enjoyed it. With that, we had accepted each other. We would not meet again because he was going away the next day and was not expected back for two months.
After much discussion and even then with a great deal of reluctance, the young man from Denmark had no choice but to offer me the use of his brand-new vehicle for the duration of my stay. But he laid down a condition. The vehicle could only be driven by me. I had to make a solemn promise that I would not let anyone else drive this precious thing. It was an easy promise to make, because I could not see any reason to have to break it.
So in this little beauty, Geraldine and I drove between Kingston and Lucea when we had to. And 20 miles there and back from Miss Katie daily. The 20-mile stretch was a winding beach road. The beach was made of a continuity of little coves and the scenery from the road was too beautiful to describe in words. Although we had beautiful beaches back in my own country all round our coastline, these were different.
These coves made the coastline small and intimate. Ours was a smooth coastline with wide, sandy beaches. Geraldine and I kept our sea-bathing attire in the car. And every evening after work we would stop by a different cove and stay in its calm sea until dusk had almost fallen. Then home to Miss Katie. This was indeed the life.
Problems with the Car
Our peaceful life was disturbed by two incidents with the car. One day while we were travelling along a narrow stretch of road, I came too close to another car. The wing mirror on Geraldine’s side was smashed to pieces. My thoughts flew to my Danish colleague. What had I done to his new car? What could I do now? Miss Katie had the answer. She had friends in Kingston. We went down there as soon as we could. Helped by Miss Katie’s contacts the car agency got down a wing-mirror for me from a neighbouring island. I had it fitted. Everything was now as good as new.
I faced the second incident when Dr. Hindley-Smith came to spend a few days with us to see how the work was progressing in Jamaica. One evening after we had come back to Miss Katie’s, he said to me, “Padmani, could you give me the keys of the car? I think I will go down to the beach for a dip”. Oh my goodness, what could I say. He was the boss. He was The WHO. How could I not give him the keys?
So I replied in as friendly a manner as I could, “It’s alright Dr. Hindley-Smith, let me drive you down”. And this offer and its rejection went on to and fro for so long that one of us had to put a stop to it. And since that had to be me, I had to tell him of the promise I had made to that hulk of a Viking. The Englishman went not just a darker shade of pink, but quite red with anger. But that was that. I was never asked for the keys again. Promises, promises.
Features
Regime change and the vacuum:Strategic lessons of Iraq and Libya
by Col. (R) Nalin Herath
There is a question that the international community must periodically ask itself: What happens to a State after its regime has been ousted?
The question is particularly relevant when examining Iraq and Libya. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were authoritarian rulers. Their governments were associated with political repression, human-rights violations and the suppression of political opposition. None of this should be ignored or excused. But recognising the failures of authoritarian rule does not prevent us from asking another, equally important strategic question:
Did the removal of these regimes adequately prepare for what came next?
The experience of Iraq and Libya suggests that removing a ruler is considerably easier than replacing the political, administrative and security architecture around that ruler.
Danger of confusing regime change with State reconstruction
A state is more than its leader. It consists of institutions, security forces, civil servants, courts, political structures, infrastructure, economic systems and, perhaps most importantly, an accepted monopoly over the legitimate use of force. When an authoritarian system has concentrated enormous power around one individual, removing that individual can expose weaknesses that were previously hidden. The strategic mistake is to assume that once the dictator has gone, a democratic and stable state will naturally emerge. History does not support such an assumption. The aftermath of Iraq demonstrates this particularly clearly. Following the 2003 invasion, the Coalition Provisional Authority issued Order No. 2, formally dissolving the Iraqi Ministry of Defence and the Iraqi Army, among other security institutions. A US congressional report later documented the enormous consequences of this decision, including the disappearance of hundreds of thousands of military personnel from the institutional framework of the state. Whatever the intentions behind the decision, the strategic consequence was that an established security structure had to be rebuilt while the country was simultaneously experiencing political upheaval and growing violence. That is a dangerous combination.
Iraq: Removing the structure before building the replacement
Saddam Hussein’s government was unquestionably authoritarian. It also reflected a complicated sectarian and political structure in which members of the Sunni minority occupied disproportionate positions of power despite being a demographic minority. But the question for strategic planners should not simply be whether Saddam deserved to remain in power. The question should have been:
What institutional structure would replace the system once he was removed?
An army can be politically controlled without being politically representative. A bureaucracy can serve an authoritarian government while still providing essential state functions. A security institution can be reformed without necessarily being destroyed. The distinction between reforming institutions and eliminating institutions is therefore critical. The post-2003 experience demonstrated the consequences of institutional disruption. Security vacuums contributed to insurgency and instability, while the process of rebuilding Iraq’s security forces took place amid an increasingly deteriorating security environment. The lesson is not that authoritarian institutions should never be reformed. The lesson is that state capacity should not be casually destroyed without a credible replacement.
Libya: prosperity, authoritarianism and institutional fragility
Libya presents an even more complicated case. Gaddafi’s government was authoritarian and deeply personalised. Political freedom was severely restricted, and the security apparatus was deliberately structured around regime survival. Yet Libya, under Gaddafi, also used substantial oil revenues to fund education, healthcare, infrastructure and social services. World Bank data from around the end of the Gaddafi era show life expectancy reaching approximately 75 years by 2011, skilled attendance at birth at 100 percent and measles immunisation at 98 percent. This does not prove that Gaddafi’s system was politically legitimate. It demonstrates something different: economic and social outcomes can coexist with authoritarian political structures.
The Great Man-Made River illustrates the scale of Libya’s investment ambitions. The World Bank described the project as one of the world’s largest engineering schemes, involving thousands of kilometres of planned pipelines to transport water from deep desert aquifers toward the populated coastal belt. The original project was estimated at approximately US$ 25 billion over several phases. Again, this should not become nostalgia for dictatorship. It should become a lesson in state capacity.
What happened after Gaddafi?
The post-2011 experience is perhaps the clearest illustration of the vacuum problem. Libya did not simply move from dictatorship to a consolidated democratic state. Instead, competing armed groups, political factions and institutions emerged. A UN economic and social affairs analysis concluded that the fall of the Gaddafi regime exposed weak state institutions and that the post-Gaddafi period was characterised by the proliferation of armed militias and institutional fragmentation.
The World Bank has similarly described how the security vacuum allowed armed groups to expand, while attempts to integrate them into the formal security apparatus produced a hybrid system in which state institutions and powerful armed groups operated alongside one another. This is the heart of the lesson. The consequences of regime change were also evident in Libya. The 2012 Benghazi attack, later portrayed in 13 Hours: The Secret Soldiers of Benghazi, illustrated the security vacuum that emerged after Gaddafi’s fall. The collapse of central authority allowed militias and competing armed groups to fill the space left by weakened state institutions. The lesson is clear: removing a regime may achieve military victory, but without a credible plan to rebuild the state, victory can quickly become a security vacuum.
When the state withdraws, something else occupies the space. If the replacement is not a legitimate national institution, the vacuum can be filled by militias, tribes, ideological movements, criminal networks or competing political authorities. The vacuum does not remain empty.
Terrorism question
There is another uncomfortable issue. Authoritarian regimes frequently suppress political and armed movements through coercive security systems. When those systems disappear abruptly, previously contained organisations can find new operating space. This does not mean that dictatorship is an appropriate method of counterterrorism. It means that counterterrorism cannot be separated from State capacity. The international community therefore needs to distinguish between defeating a particular terrorist organisation and maintaining the institutional conditions that prevent multiple armed actors from competing for power. The destruction of one regime does not automatically eliminate the forces that created insecurity. Sometimes it creates an environment in which those forces multiply.
Strategic mistake: winning the war but losing the peace
Military intervention can have a clearly defined operational objective. State reconstruction does not. A military campaign may successfully remove a government in weeks or months. Building legitimate institutions can take decades.This creates a fundamental strategic asymmetry. The shorter the planning horizon for intervention, the greater the danger of a long-term vacuum. The international community therefore needs to think beyond the first question: How do we remove the regime?
It must ask: Who governs the country the next morning? Who controls the borders? Who controls the security forces? Who pays government employees? Who maintains electricity, water and hospitals? Who protects critical infrastructure? Who administers justice? Who prevents armed groups from becoming alternative governments? Who provides political legitimacy? And perhaps most importantly: Who possesses the authority to enforce the decisions of the new state? If there are no convincing answers, regime change is only the beginning of the problem.
The lesson should not be that the United States or its allies should never intervene. Nor should it be that Saddam Hussein or Muammar Gaddafi should be rehabilitated as models of governance. The lesson is more practical. Regime change must never be confused with state-building.
Before dismantling an established political order, external powers need a credible understanding of the institutions that will replace it. Security-sector reform should normally distinguish between individuals who must be removed and institutions that must be preserved. A national army may need reform. A ministry may need restructuring. A security service may need accountability and civilian oversight. But destroying institutional capacity without having an operational replacement can create consequences far beyond the original objective.
Wider geopolitical lesson
The consequences of Iraq and Libya did not remain within their borders. State fragmentation affects neighbouring countries, migration, organised crime, arms trafficking, terrorism, energy markets and regional power competition. In today’s interconnected world, a failed transition in one country can become a security problem for an entire region. That is why intervention planning should include not only military objectives but also political, economic, humanitarian and security-sector objectives. The most important planning document may therefore not be the operational plan for removing the regime. It may be the plan for Day One after the regime has disappeared.
History should not be written as a simple choice between dictatorship and democracy. The real strategic challenge is more complicated. Saddam Hussein and Muammar Gaddafi were dictators. Their governments committed serious abuses, and their populations had legitimate grievances. But the failures of authoritarian rule do not automatically justify the destruction of state institutions without a credible plan for rebuilding them. The experience of Iraq and Libya demonstrates a fundamental principle of international security: A political vacuum is not neutral space. Someone will fill it. If legitimate national institutions cannot fill that space, armed groups, sectarian interests, extremist organisations or foreign-backed factions may do so. The ultimate lesson for the United States, its allies and the wider international community is therefore straightforward:
Removing a regime may win the immediate battle. Building a legitimate, functioning and secure state determines whether the intervention succeeds in the long term. The world should learn to ask not only “How do we remove the dictator?”. It must also ask:
“What happens to the country when he is gone?”
That may be the most important strategic question of all.
(The writer is the Secretary General of the Ceylon Chamber of Shipping, former Director General of the Institute of National Security Studies (INSS), and former Spokesman of the Ministry of Defence. He is also a Non-Resident Fellow at the London Dialogue. His areas of expertise include international relations, geopolitics, maritime affairs, national security, economic policy, and strategic governance. He is a consultant at JITT Group and a member of World Pace Board.).
Features
‘Death at the Sign of the Rook’
Tales of Mystery and Suspense – 23
By Prof. Rajiva Wijesinha
As I have noted with regard to the adventures of John Rebus, I am indebted to Dinali Fernando and her husband Steve for whole hosts of thrillers. The latter strongly recommended Kate Atkinson when I borrowed four books. I wondered about this, for I had not been too impressed with her debut novel, Behind the Scenes at the Museum, which was amongst the entries I had to judge for the Eurasian section of the Commonwealth Writing Prize. Two decades later, I had forgotten what it had been about.
But I am glad Steve persuaded me to read her. Kate Atkinson is distinctively British, and Death at the Sign of the Rook is set in a country house and the surrounding village, and seems a modern descendant of the laidback Agatha Christies I so much enjoy.
There are, however, many differences in that we have a policeman who can go rogue, like Rebus, with again a female sidekick who has a mind of her own, again like Rebus. But Jackson Brodie has retired and set up as a private investigator, while Reggie, a young lady, is still in the police.
There is a lesbian couple living in the converted dairy of the manor house, as has occurred in Agatha Christie too, in A Murder is Announced. But they are peripheral to the story, unlike Ben, the brother of one of them who left the army after losing a leg in Afghanistan. When he turns up at the Manor House to shelter from a snowstorm, along with its chatelaine, Lady Milton, he is asked to answer the door as various characters turn up, including Jackson and Reggie, who then starts fantasising about him.
The others who turn up are two couples, one from America, who have paid for a murder weekend at the hotel. The family is impoverished, and has sold lots of pictures to survive, but most recently a Turner had been stolen, almost certainly by Lady Milton’s housekeeper Sophie, who vanished one night along with the picture. Reggie had been involved in that investigation, but there had been no trace of either picture or young lady.
Jackson Brodie suspects a connection between that theft and the one he has been called in to investigate, which has not been reported to the police. The picture hung opposite the bed of an old woman whose carer vanished after she died, along with it. Her children, adopted twins, have asked Jackson to investigate and also try to trace the carer, though he suspects something strange in that they did not go to the police.
Brodie, in studying the stolen art, is also struck by the disappearance of a Rembrandt from a house in Scotland, along with a member of the cleaning staff. He thinks the three women might be the same one.
But Brodie’s assumption that the three women who vanished when valuable pictures did were identical would not have helped except that Beatrice, as she was also called, kept turning up, including to the funeral home where the old lady’s body was kept. And then that picture turned up, in the village church, and was found by the local vicar, Simon Cate, whose life story is also a prominent feature of the novel. He was an aspiring actor but then smitten by faith, and became a priest, but in time he lost his faith. His wife left him after the death of their son, and he is now in this backwater, where he feels he is of no use to anyone. But he has a great feel for living beings, and his most successful service has been one in which he blessed pets. And he was deeply concerned about the bees that Ben looks after for his sister and her wife.
He too staggers into the manor house in the midst of the storm, in which everyone concerned loses their way comprehensively. But amongst those Ben lets in is a man in a tracksuit with cuts and bruises, who then vanishes after he has been led to a bedroom, when Ben went in search of brandy. We soon work out that it is the escaped murderer about whom Reggie has been alerted.
Simon also turns up, through the back door, carrying the picture and also a gun, for he has found the dead body of one of his parishioners when he went to her house in search of his mobile phone. She had been shot and he had picked up the gun he found there. But he could not tell the police, for though he called he had lost his voice, and for the last few days had communicated only through writing.
This chaotic mix of characters at the manor house is further complicated by the group of players putting on the murder mystery play though some members have either cried off or died before reaching the venue. So, there is much doubling up and confusion over who is an actor and who is not.
The grand now largely empty rooms of the manor house, and its various odd passages and multiple doors, make it a splendid set for the lunacy that runs on and on. Reggie finds herself in a pantry Atkinsonwith a dead body, though this turns out to be the nanny who fell down the stairs and was put there by Lady Milton’s younger son. And there is high drama on the roof when the murderer nearly kills Ben, but he is saved by Reggie, and when he tries to kill Brody with an axe, he is shot by Beatrice, who has been the maid who served at the dinner before the murder mystery play, and explains to Brody how she has managed all her thefts.
And then in the melee, she vanishes on a motorbike, along with the daughter of the old lady’s adopted daughter, the only person who seemed to grieve at the funeral, and to whom the old lady had left her house in a codicil to
her will, which her children have not known about. She leaves the picture to the carer, but it is brought to Simon Cate as he lies in hospital, recovering from a heart attack which adds confusion to the play.
Wonderfully convoluted, but all very clear, despite the headlong pace of the book and its shifts from one scene to another, from one character to another (or rather combinations of them) and from one-time span to another. A writer and a detective well worth looking out for. e more books by her on Dinali’s shelves.
Features
Safety, security and teamwork in aviation
by Capt. (Ret.).G.A. Fernando, MBA
There are three essential components to a commercial airline operation: safety, security and teamwork.
Aviation and teamwork at the ‘sharp’ end of a commercial aircraft, i.e. the flight deck, is unique. Unlike many other teams, it may be quite literally the first and the last time a particular combination of small teams of two, three, or four individual airmen (or women) will fly together. Sometimes even in the same airline that employs them.
Therefore, to make conditions safe and practical, while understanding and trusting tech other, they have to rely on a series of Standard Operating Procedures (SOPs), and ‘Normal’ and ‘Emergency’ checklists for every conceivable situation. That is, to be able to do the right things, and do things right. In fact, there is a saying in aviation to the effect that ‘if you make a mistake in aviation, be original and make a new one’.
To ensure that safety standards are constantly maintained, airline pilots’ proficiency is tested every six months, in simulators, under the supervision of examiners from the civil aviation regulator. In Sri Lanka that organisaton is the Civil Aviation Authority-Sri Lanka (CAASL). Three simulator checks are conducted every 12 months in keeping with the tenet that ‘practice makes perfect’. A pithy adage not confined to the world of aviation warns that ‘prior preparation prevents piss-poor performance’.
The simulator exercises include rejected takeoffs, including in cross-wind situations, landings, engine fires and/or engine failures from a variety of causes, cabin pressurisation failure, precision and non-precision approaches, and landings in bad visibility – amongst other conditions that could be expected in actual flight.
In addition, a flight in a real airplane, on a regular passenger service under the supervision of an examiner from the airline, is undertaken to ensure that the company’s standard practices and procedures are carried out and maintained as prescribed in the airline’s manuals. These publications are in turn approved by the national regulator.
Finally, flight crew members must take a written test annually, on emergency equipment locations and procedures, with 90% as the pass mark.
Since the mid-1980s it has been mandatory for airline pilots to undertake a Crew Resource Management (CRM) programme once every two years. This training essentially emphasises what to do and what not to do to, in a specific emergency situation, or even during normal operations, to make the team cohesive and effective. During the course, the CRM facilitators discuss recent incidents and accidents that have occurred. Results of those events are recorded and could be retrieved, when necessary, by the official aviation bodies.
Not unexpectedly, it is demanding on a pilot to fulfill these requirements on a regular basis throughout his/her career, along with presenting for a bi-annual medical examination, all with the objective of retaining one’s licence to operate an aircraft. It may not be understood, therefore, by persons outside the aviation industry, or even some working in other aspects of an airline organisation, that it is often the passion for flight that keeps many pilots doing what they do to earn a living.
Security
Another important factor is the challenge of maintaining security in all aspects of airline operations, not least in the cockpit. The challenges are many, with new ones surfacing almost every day. It is therefore essential to be always prepared for the activities and ‘methods’ of perpetrators seeking to wreak evil on an aircraft and its occupants. As it is impossible for any airline or national security organisation to cover all aspects, systematic management of risks to effect a safe outcome becomes imperative.
Flydubai Incident
In the recent Flydubai incident of 30 September, 2026, a first officer (co-pilot) attacked the captain of the flight with a crash axe to accomplish his sinister motives, into which investigations are continuing. For the time being, it prompts the questions: should the crash axe be easily accessible to the flight crew? Or even be there at all? I believe it is a case of assessing the greater risk.
With regard to that event, and the circumstances that led to it, other deterrents could have been applied more thoroughly. For example, more thorough screening of pilots’ and other crewpersons’ backgrounds, with emphasis on their mental health, ideological affiliations and previous employment history. Separately, during a time of conflict in the Middle East, should Flydubai have even been operating between Dubai and Tel Aviv? Notwithstanding that cost-cutting and profit maximisation are key aims of any business, an airline’s apparent failure to conduct adequate psychological profiling of flight crew members, while continuing to operate ‘profitable’ routes, regardless of potential danger, can only be regarded and condemned as greed and disregard for human lives.
( Captain. Fernando, RCyAF, SLAF, Air Ceylon, Air Lanka, Singapore Airlines (SIA), SriLankan Airlines, Former Chief Pilot, Air Lanka Boeing 737, Former Deputy Chief Pilot, Lockheed L 1011, Former Crew Resource Management (CRM) Facilitator, SIA, Former Deputy Director (Air Operations) CAASL, Former President, Aircraft Owners and Operators Association Sri Lanka (AOAOASL), President, The Colombo Flying Club, Representative for Aviation, Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA), Hony, and Member Sri Lanka Society of Transport and Logistics.)
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