Features
“Reflections on the Life and Times of Lakshman Kadirgamar on the 20th Anniversary of His Death”
From the time I was old enough to cultivate an interest in politics, I have familiarized myself with the life and times of those political personalities I took a liking to. The late Dudley Senanayake (who incidentally died in 1973 a day after Lakshman Kadirgamar’s 41st birthday) was the first I took to and I consider it my loss that I did not have the opportunity to get to know him personally. Of the several politicians that I have subsequently taken note of, there were two I got particularly close to and they were both, coincidentally enough, Oxonians who happened also to be presidents of the Oxford Union in their time. I refer to Lalith Athulathmudali and Lakshman Kadirgarmar. Athulathmudali did not attend a local university prior to going up to Oxford, as did Kadirgamar. The former’s cake, (to borrow a metaphor from Kadirgamar himself) was not baked at home, unlike that of the latter for whom Oxford was only the icing on his superlative, home-produced, academic confection.
Although Lakshman Kadirgamar and I belonged to two different generations, we shared certain commonalities. Though not of Kandy, we both had our early education in that city (he at Trinity, I at Kingswood) and we were both products of the University of Ceylon, Peradeniya. If memory serves, he was a resident of Arunachalam Hall, which was also where I spent my undergraduate years. He was a ‘citizen of the world’, a Sri Lankan and a Tamil. Likewise I, too, prefer to transcend narrow boundaries and take pride in being in that order, a human resident of this planet, a Sri Lankan, and then a Sinhalese.
I liked Kadirgamar’s academic bent of mind. If he and I were given to clichés, I would have called him ‘a voracious reader’. I should, instead, describe him as a man of books. And many were the times when we compared notes on literary texts we both had read and enjoyed. Not infrequently he telephoned me to double check on a quotation from a Shakespearean play that he wished to include in a lecture or a speech he was writing up. He publicly denounced bribery and corruption in public office, a particular aversion of mine, which is not a safe or fashionable public stance for a politician to take and I admired him for his courageous stand. Furthermore, he was unpretentious, charming, mellow-toned and possessed of a fine if often ironic sense of humour.
And there was something else he was proud to be– an outstanding sportsman. The last attribute meant, by definition, that he was by instinct and training, fair-minded. Could one possibly ask for more? My one regret is that I did not get to know Lakshman Kadirgamar as intimately earlier than I actually did. I console myself with the thought that quality ever trumps quantity when it comes to most good things of life. As Ranil Wickremesinghe noted in the course of his tribute to Lakshman Kadirgamar in Parliament, a meal with the late minister offered food for the body as well as the mind. On most occasions a mere chat over a drink with him provided such nourishment for the soul.
Apart from our regular meetings to talk of issues of the day, there were two key projects dear to his heart that brought us together and helped cement our friendship. Given the rich heritage we Sri Lankans are heirs to, Lakshman Kadirgamar was of the view that we should give to the world, as he so aptly put it, ‘something more than just tea, tourism and terrorism’. He thus had a long-term plan to enable Sri Lanka to continue to contribute to the world of culture and the arts as also to the further refinement of international relations and diplomacy. It was his desire to have a book published on a Sri Lankan artist that would be ‘an ideal brand label for Sri Lanka, an image which may be projected all over the world as the face of Sri Lanka in all of its many forms’. The result of his endeavours in this regard is the monumental and exquisite The World of Stanley Kirinde (2005) authored by Sinharajah Tammita-Delgoda.
Having initiated the book project, he next set his sights on the production of an academic journal for the study of politics and diplomacy via the Bandaranaike Centre for International Studies (BCIS) of which he was now chairman. He invited me to serve as editor and together we put in many hours to get International Relations in a Globalizing World (IRGW) off the ground. Lakshman Kadirgamar’s last public act on the evening of that fateful twelfth of August, 2005, was to preside over the ceremony to mark the release of the inaugural issue of IRGW. It was Kadirgamar’s expectation, through the regular publication of IRGW, to raise the level of Sri Lanka’s contribution to diplomacy. All these best-laid plans and goals were shattered on that dreadful August night in 2005. Unfortunately, Lakshman Kadirgamar did not live to see (though he saw the finished product and admiringly flipped through its pages) the release of The World of Stanley Kirinde scheduled for 18 August, 2005.
In this sixteenth year after his death, it is as good a time as any, to assess dispassionately the late foreign minister’s contribution to Sri Lanka and the world, and to imagine the kind of role he might have played had he lived beyond his 73rd year. I consider Lakshman Kadirgamar to be one of the finest twentieth century Sri Lankans and far and away the best foreign minister Sri Lanka has had to- date. He was widely read and intelligent and, at the same time, hard-working and disciplined. He had the courage of his convictions and the inner strength to hold fast to his ideals from his entry into the fickle world of politics in 1994 until his tragic end in 2005.
I tend to view Lakshman Kadirgamar’s performance on the domestic political front less enthusiastically than that of his on the international stage. It is entirely possible that my lukewarm view has less to do with any inadequacy of Kadirgamar’s and more to do with my aversion to realpolitik, especially to its Sri Lankan variety. As I have asserted in an earlier tribute to him (2005), Lakshman Kadirgamar was the quintessential Sri Lankan. Almost a year before his death, in September 2004, he made a profound statement on Japanese National Television (NHK) that encapsulated his credo:
I am first and foremost a citizen of Sri Lanka. I do not carry labels of race or religion or any other label. I would say quite simply that I have grown up with the philosophy that I am a citizen of the world. I do not subscribe to any particular philosophy; I have no fanaticism; I have no communalism. I believe there should be a united Sri Lanka. I believe that all our peoples can live together, they did live together. I think they must in the future learn to live together after this trauma is over. We have four major religions in the country: Buddhism, Islam, Hinduism and Christianity. All these religions exist very peacefully. They get on very well. I see no reason why the major races in the country, the Tamils and the Sinhalese, cannot again build a relationship of confidence and trust. That is my belief.
It is this fervent belief in the essential goodness of his country and fellow citizens that form the cornerstone of his diplomatic labours. It was also the driving force behind his brilliant and spellbinding performance as our foreign minister. I relished in particular the manner in which he finessed the challenge of LTTE terrorism. To say it was primarily Lakshman Kadirgamar’s powers of persuasion and skillful handling of domestic issues and their international ramifications that redeemed Sri Lanka’s sullied image is surely no exaggeration. Needless to say, then President Chandrika Kumaratunga , the Leader of the Opposition Ranil Wickemesinghe and several dedicated, experienced and effective Sri Lankan Foreign Service personnel played their part in this restoration process, but the helmsman was clearly Lakshman Kadirgamar.
In their measured tributes to a book published in honour of Lakshman Kadirgamar (Roberts: 2012), three seasoned American diplomats I know intimately, Karl (Rick) Inderfurth, Peter Burleigh and Shaun Donnelly who interacted closely with Kadirgamar have testified to the latter’s major successes on the international stage, during his lifetime and even posthumously. Chris Patten, the British politician, reinforces this fact when he notes in the same publication that:
Lakshman Kadirgamar spent much of his diplomatic energy and his formidable eloquence in attempting to persuade foreign governments to proscribe the LTTE in their own countries and stop the raising of funds for terrorism in Sri Lanka. He scorned the ‘Nelsonian’ attitude to terrorism of some countries. He was particularly active in supporting the drafting of the 1997 UN Convention for the Suppression of Terrorist Bombings. The respect he enjoyed internationally meant that his assassination nudged some foreign governments into taking a tougher line in prohibiting active support for the LTTE in their own countries.
Peter Burleigh in a recent personal communication reiterated this foremost aspect of Kadirgamar’s achievement when he noted:
I personally believe that his efforts to get important governments like Australia, the UK and the US to ban money transfers to the LTTE was a key contribution to the long-term effort to defeat the group. And his personal efforts, and effectiveness, in that regard were essential to that success.
Although I recognize that politics may well be the art of the possible, my limited experience of it as a practitioner and deeper awareness of it as student, make me conclude that politics is a murky and dismal business. I have often wondered why men of the sensitivity of Neelan Tiruchelvam and Lakshman Kadirgamar ever took to politics. In a statement over national television in 1994, Lakshman Kadirgamar spelt out his reasons for doing so. I quote below the operative paragraph of that statement:
I have had a privileged life by birth, by education, by access to opportunities, and I have always felt that a time must come when you must give something back to the society in which you have grown up and from which you have taken so much. So-called educated people must not shirk responsibilities in public life. I have reached that stage in life when, without being heroic about it, I feel I should participate more fully in public life.
Whilst not taking anything away from his invaluable and splendid contribution as foreign minister, I remain convinced that he could have given more back to the society from which, by his own admission, he had taken so much by opting for a different if less glamorous public role than that of a high visibility politician. As with similarly gifted men as S.W.R.D Bandaranaike, N.M Perera, Pieter Keuneman, Felix Dias Bandaranaike and Lalith Athulathmudali before him, I am left with the nagging feeling that his stint in politics somehow diminished Lakshman Kadirgamar in the end. Such diminution as occurred may well have been due to the corrosive nature of politics and not due to any inherent flaw in Kadirgamar’s character.
Perhaps he permitted his colleagues and his party to exploit his standing in society and his professional stature when he decided ‘without being heroic about it. . . [to] participate fully in public life’. Be this as it may, I remain disappointed by the narrow political role he played in the difficult and often acrimonious days of Sri Lanka’s French-style co-habitation government. This was the period between December 2001 and April 2004, when Kadirgamar’s party leader, Chandrika Kumaratunga, despite her party being out of power, was yet the constitutional head of government whilst Ranil Wickremesinghe as prime minister was in effective control of Parliament. Kadirgamar now was assigned the role of advisor to the president on international affairs, with Tyronne Fernando occupying the portfolio of foreign affairs.
(To be continued)
by Tissa Jayatilaka ✍️
(From The Cake That Was Baked At Home)
Features
Silence of the majority keeps West Asian conflict raging
With no military quick-fix in sight to the ongoing, convoluted West Asian conflict it ought to be clear to the rationally inclined that there is no other way to a solution to the blood-letting other than through a negotiated one. Unfortunately, there are not many takers the world over for such an approach.
Consequently the war rages on incurring the gravest human costs to all relevant sides. Whereas it should be obvious to the Trump administration that Iran wouldn’t be backing down any time soon from its position of taking on the US frontally and with the required military competence in the Hormuz Strait and adjacent regions, the US demonstrates a stubbornness to persist with war strategies that are showing no quick, positive results on the ground.
Clearly, the virtual ‘lock down within a lock down’ situation in the Strait is not proving beneficial for either party. Instead, the spilling of civilian blood in particular continues with unsettling regularity along with an all-encompassing economic crisis that carries a staggering material toll for ordinary people all over the world.
From this viewpoint it is commendable for Pakistan to offer itself as a peace mediator and go ‘the extra mile’ to keep the principal parties engaged in some sort of negotiatory process. But its efforts need to win greater support from the world community. It is a time for peace-makers the world over to stand up and be counted.
It is also a time for straight-talking. To his glowing credit Pope Leo XIV is doing just that and he is the only religious head worldwide to do so. Very rightly he has called on President Trump to end the war through negotiations and described it as ‘unjust’ and ‘a scandal to humanity’.
May this crucial cause be taken up by more and more world leaders, is this columnist’s wish. Instead of speaking fatalistically about a ‘Third World War’, decision and policy makers and commentators, and these are found in plenty in Sri Lanka as well, would do better to help in drumming-up support for a peaceful solution and the latter is within the realms of the possible.
Incidentally, the commonplace definition of the phrase ‘World War’ is quite contentious and it would be premature to speak forebodingly about one right now. The fissures within the West on the Middle East conflict alone rule out the possibility of a ‘World War’ occurring any time soon.
Instead, it would be preferable for the international community, under the aegis of the UN, to take the ‘straight and narrow’ path to a peaceful solution. As implied, this path is no easy avenue; it is cluttered with obstacles that only doughty peace makers could take on and clear.
However, the path to a negotiated peace is worth taking and no less a power than the US should know this. After all, the US ‘bled white’ in Vietnam and had to bow out of the conflict, realizing the futility of pursuing a military solution. A similar lesson should have been learned by Russia which bled futilely in Afghanistan. It too is in an unwinnable situation in Ukraine.
The Pope’s observations to President Trump on negotiating peace have earned for him some snarls and growls of criticism but with time these critics would realize that peace could come only by peaceful means and not through ‘the barrel of a gun.’
For far too long the ‘silent majority’ of the world has allowed politicians to take the sole initiative on working towards peaceful solutions to conflicts and wars. As could be seen, the results have been disastrous. The majority of politicians speak the language of Realpolitik only and this tendency runs contrary to the ways of the selfless peace maker.
Power, which is the essence of Realpolitik, and peace are generally at loggerheads in the real world. Power and self-aggrandizement have to be shelved in the pursuit of durable peace anywhere and it is a pity that the likes of Donald Trump and his team are yet to realize this.
At this juncture the ‘peace constituency’ or the silent majority would need to take centre stage and play their rightful role as the ‘Conscience of the World’. If the latter begins to take on the cause of peace in earnest everywhere, the politicians would have no choice but to pay heed to their cause and take it up, since a contrary course would earn for them public displeasure and votes.
An immediate challenge would be for the ‘peace constituency’ to come together and act as one. Right now, such a coordinating role could be played effectively by only the UN and its agencies. Practical problems are likely to get in the way but these need to be managed insightfully and resourcefully by all stakeholders to peace.
In fact the time couldn’t be more appropriate for the backers of peace to come together and work as one. Right now, economic pressures are increasing worldwide and no less a public than that in the US is beginning to feel them in a major, crushing way.
Going ahead the US public, along with other polities, would find the economic consequences of war to be intolerable. There would be no choice but for governments and peoples to champion peace. Peace makers would need to ‘strike while the iron is hot.’
The success of the above endeavours hinges on the importance humans attach to their consciences. The danger about prolonged wars is that they deaden consciences; particularly those of politicians. The latter deaden their consciences to the extent that they prove impervious to the pain and suffering wars incur.
Thus, the ‘peace constituency’ has its work cut out; it cannot rest assured that politicians would prove sensitive to their demands. The latter would need to be constantly dinned into the hearts and minds of politicians and decision-makers if peaceful solutions to conflicts are to be arrived at.
Likewise, the publics of war-torn countries would need to demand the activation and sustaining of accountability processes with regard to those sections that are suspected of committing war crimes and like atrocities. Those publics that cease to demand accountability from powerful sections among them which are faced with war-time atrocity charges are as good as condemning themselves to lives of permanent dis-empowerment and enslavement.
Features
Don’t take the baby: In the quiet night, mother always returns

Chaminda Jayasekara
There is a particular stillness in Sri Lanka’s forests, after dusk — a kind of hushed expectancy where shadows lengthen, cicadas soften their chorus, and the night begins to breathe in its own rhythm. It is a world that does not reveal itself easily. You have to wait for it. You have to listen.
And then, suddenly, you see them — a pair of luminous, unblinking eyes suspended in the dark.
The Grey Slender Loris, or unahapuluwa, emerges, not with drama, but with quiet precision. Small, slow-moving, and almost impossibly delicate, it is one of Sri Lanka’s most enigmatic nocturnal primates — a creature that has survived millennia by mastering the art of stillness.
Yet, during these months — from late March through July — the forests hold a more tender story. It is the breeding season of the slender loris, and with it comes a scene that is often misunderstood by those who encounter it for the first time: a tiny infant, alone on a branch, barely three inches long, its fragile body silhouetted against the night.

Grey Slender Loris with twin babies
To many, it appears to be a moment of abandonment.
To nature, it is a moment of trust.
“People often act out of compassion, but without understanding what they are seeing,” explains Chaminda Jayasekara of the University of Hertfordshire. “A baby loris left alone is not necessarily in danger. In fact, it is part of a natural process that is critical for its survival.”
According to Jayasekara, when a baby loris is about a month old, the mother begins a remarkable routine. As darkness settles, she gently places her infant on a secure branch and moves off into the forest to forage. Her journey can take her hundreds of metres away — sometimes close to 800 metres — as she searches for insects and other small prey.
In those hours of solitude, the infant is not abandoned. It is learning.
Clinging to the branch, it begins to explore its immediate surroundings. Tentatively, almost hesitantly, it reaches out — testing balance, grip, and instinct. It may attempt to catch tiny insects, mimicking behaviours it will one day rely on entirely. This is its first classroom, and the forest its only teacher.
“Those early nights are crucial,” Jayasekara says. “The baby is developing motor skills, coordination, and the ability to interact with its environment. These are things that cannot be replicated in captivity.”
And yet, this is precisely where human intervention often disrupts the process.
Across rural and even semi-urban Sri Lanka, stories circulate of well-meaning individuals who come across a lone baby loris and assume the worst. Driven by concern, they pick it up, take it home, or attempt to hand-rear it — believing they are saving a life.

Grey Slender Loris
But the reality is far more complex — and far more tragic.
“When a baby is removed unnecessarily, it loses something fundamental,” Jayasekara emphasises. “It loses the chance to learn how to survive in the wild. Without that, even if it survives in the short term, its long-term prospects are extremely poor.”
The forest, after all, is not just a habitat. It is a living, evolving system of lessons — how to detect predators, how to navigate branches, how to hunt silently, how to recognise territory. These are not instincts alone; they are behaviours refined through experience.
And the mother, contrary to assumption, is rarely far away.
“If people simply waited — even for several hours — they would often see the mother return,” Jayasekara explains. “She knows exactly where she left her baby. Her absence is temporary, purposeful.”
The advice from conservationists is clear and consistent: observe, but do not interfere.
If you encounter a baby loris, watch quietly from a distance. Avoid using bright lights or making noise. Give it time — at least 10 to 12 hours — before drawing conclusions. In most cases, the situation will resolve itself, just as nature intended.

35 days old Grey Slender Loris
Only if the animal is clearly injured, or if there is strong evidence of abandonment after prolonged observation, should intervention be considered — and even then, it must be done through the proper channels, particularly the Department of Wildlife Conservation.
Attempting to care for such a delicate animal at home is not only ineffective but often fatal.
Sri Lanka is home to two species of slender loris — the Grey Slender Loris and the Red Slender Loris — each adapted to specific ecological zones across the island. Both are protected under national legislation and recognised internationally as species requiring urgent conservation attention.
Their threats are many: habitat loss, road mortality, illegal pet trade, and, increasingly, human misunderstanding.
Yet, in the midst of these challenges, there are also signs of hope.

In recent years, the slender loris has become the focus of a unique form of wildlife tourism — one that values patience over spectacle. Night walks, conducted with trained naturalists and strict ethical guidelines, offer visitors a chance to witness the loris in its natural environment without disturbing its behaviour.
At places like Jetwing Vil Uyana, this approach has been refined into a model of responsible eco-tourism. Over more than a decade, the property has developed a dedicated Loris Conservation Project, recording thousands of sightings while educating visitors and supporting local communities.
Here, the loris is not handled, chased, or exploited. It is simply observed — a quiet presence in a carefully protected landscape.
“The success of such initiatives shows that conservation and tourism do not have to be at odds,” Jayasekara reflects. “When done responsibly, tourism can actually support conservation by creating awareness and value for these species.”
There is something profoundly moving about encountering a loris in the wild. It does not roar or charge. It does not demand attention. Instead, it exists — quietly, deliberately — as it has for millions of years.
And perhaps that is why it is so easily misunderstood.

In a world that often equates visibility with importance, the loris reminds us that some of the most extraordinary lives unfold beyond the spotlight.
It also reminds us of something else — something simpler, yet harder to practice.
Restraint.
Because conservation is not always about stepping in. Sometimes, it is about stepping back. About recognising when nature does not need our help, but our patience.
So if, on some future night, you find yourself walking beneath the trees, and your light catches a tiny figure sitting alone on a branch — do not rush forward.
Pause.
Watch.
Let the moment unfold.
Because somewhere, moving silently through the darkness, guided by instinct and memory, a mother is already on her way back.
And by morning, the forest will be whole again.
By Ifham Nizam
Features
Kumar de Silva: 40 years of fame and flair
We first saw him on the small screen in January 1986 – a relatively raw, totally untrained and a very nervous 24-year-old presenting ‘Bonsoir’ on ITN.
And now, 40 years later, and as one looks back, one realises what a multi-dimensional journey Kumar de Silva has navigated across the small screen yes, from your television screens to your laptops, and iPads, tabs, and mobile phones.
Says Kumar: “It is the French language I speak that opened the world of television to me, 40 years ago. It was ‘Bonsoir’ alone, and so to my French teacher at Wesley College, Mrs. BA Fernando, to ‘Bonsoir’, and to the Embassy of France in Sri Lanka, I am eternally grateful”.

Promoting the French language, and culture, in Sri Lanka, in a big way
Kumar went on to say that on the heels of ‘Bonsoir” came ‘Fanclub’, on ITN, describing it as yet another resounding success story which saw him as a music DJ on TV.
His inherent talent saw him handle a range of contrasting programmes across ITN, TNL, Prime TV and SLRC with consummate ease – from News Reading, Business Talk Shows, Celebrity Chats, to Dhamma discussions, on Poya Days, to name a few.

Kumar – the 1986 look
Trained in Paris in television production and presentation, the Government of France, in 2012, conferred on him the title of ‘Chevalier dans l’Ordre des Arts et Lettres’ (Chevalier in the Order of Arts and Letters) in recognition of his contribution to promoting the French language, and culture, in Sri Lanka.
In celebration of his four decades on the small screen, Kumar recently launched ‘Bonsoir Katha’, the Sinhala translation (by Ciara Mendis) of his English book ‘Bonsoir Diaries’ (2013), at a gala soiree. at the Alliance Francaise de Colombo, under the distinguished patronage of the French Ambassador in Sri Lanka, Remi Lambert, and francophone President Chandrika Kumaratunga.
He’s now excited about launching the French version of this book, ‘Les Coulisses de Bonsoir’, in Paris, in autumn this year. It is currently being translated by Guilhem Beugnon, a former Deputy Director of the Alliance Francaise de Colombo. This will, co-incidentally, also be Kumar’s 30th visit to Paris.

Chief Guest French Ambassador in Sri
Lanka Remi Lambert
Says Kumar: “The word GRATITUDE means a lot to me and so I always make it a point to spend time with two very special French people every time I go to France. One is Madame Josiane Thureau, formerly of the French Foreign Ministry, who began ‘Bonsoir’ in Sri Lanka. way back in the mid-1980s. The other is Madame Aline Berengier, the lady who designed the ‘Bonsoir’ logo – the Sri Lankan elephant in the colours of the French national flag”.
Kumar is also a much-sought-after Personal Development and Corporate Etiquette Coach in Colombo’s corporate world. Over the past 15 years, tens of thousands of corporates, have been through the different modules of his interactive training sessions. There have also been thousands of school leavers and undergraduates from national and private universities, many of whom will constitute the corporates of tomorrow.

Guest of Honour francophone President Chandrika Kumaratunga at the gala soiree
at the Alliance Francaise de Colombo
The multi-talented Kumar turns 65 next year, and his journey on the small screen still continues – you see him on the (monthly) ‘Rendez-Vous with Yasmin and Kumar’ on the French Embassy’s YouTube Channel, and (every Friday) on ‘Fame Game with Rozanne and Kumar’ on Daily Mirror Online, Hi Online and The Sun Online.
There’s yet another podcast in the pipeline, he indicated, but diplomatically declined to give us details. All he said, with a glint in his eye, was, “It will hit your screens soon.”
Whatever he has in mind, one can be certain that the new programme will continue to showcase Kumar de Silva’s enduring presence in Sri Lanka’s entertainment scene.
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