Features
Rookies at the Police Training School, Katukurunda
Excerpted from A Challenge to the Police, a memoir from Snr. DIG (Rtd.) Kingsley Wickramasuriya
(Continued from last week)
The training started soon after appointment as a Probationary ASP at the Police Training School (PTS), Katukurunda, Kalutara. May 1, 1963, was a Wednesday. I reported at 10.30 am at the office of the Director PTS’. It is a large training complex consisting of several facilities located on a 30-acre block of land.
As you enter the school you see the Co-operative Stores, the hairdressing saloon, Director’s office, the administration block on one side, and the school Charge Room on the opposite side. Trainee barracks of the recruit constables called Police Stations are spread over the premises. Some of them are named after a few retired Inspectors-General and others after some of the kings of yore. They were called Jenkins, Campbell, Dowbiggin, Rajasinghe, Elara, Gemunu, Tissa, and Vijaya.
The men are provisioned through the Junior Staff Mess (JSM). Senior Staff Mess (SSM) housed some of the lecturers, trainees coming for the Inspectors’ Promotion Class, and probationary sub-inspectors. The training and administrative staff from the Director Training downward is provided with housing on the premises.
It has its own medical facility and recreational ground called Brindley Grounds and a large parade ground called Aluvihare Grounds and a large assembly hall called the Magul Maduwa. It also has a small-arm firing range and (now) a full-fledged firing range for rifle shooting etc. It is also equipped with tennis courts, stables and riding school, and (now) a swimming pool. It also has a dairy farm maintained under the Farm Development Fund. Curd, one of the products of this farm is available to the trainees and the training staff at the School through the Cooperative Stores at a competitive price. The dagoba which is a new addition was constructed later during the period of Mr. K.D.C. Ekanayake when he was the Director of the PTS.
The School was administered by a Director Training (DT) of the rank of a Superintendent of Police and was assisted by an Assistant Director. Our first (Acting) Director of Training was Mr. K.D.C. Ekanayake. Being a senior ASP near promotion he was acting in the rank of a Superintendent and was a strict disciplinarian. Each Police Station had an Officer in Charge of the rank of at least a Sub-inspector assisted by a Police Sergeant and other staff In addition, there were Drill Instructors, and lecturing staff headed by a Chief Lecturer.
I was the first out of the three probationers to report to PTS. Inspector Boyagoda was there to receive me. He took me to a prefabricated house situated close to the SSM. This was to be the quarters for the three of us for some time until we were shifted to the SSM. Messrs Shanmugam and Gunawardena, the other two colleagues joined me in the prefab later in the day.
Besides the three of us, there were some 20-odd probationary sub-inspectors and 200-odd recruit constables in the batch who reported that day. They were quartered separately: the probationary sub-inspectors in the SSM and the Recruit Constables in eight different single men’s barracks attached to Police Stations.
We were also later attached to three different Police Stations. I was attached to ‘Jenkins’, Mr. Shanmugam to ‘Elara’, and Mr. Gunawardena to ‘Rajasinghe’ Police Stations. In addition, two Probationary Sub-Inspectors (P/SII) were also attached to each of the Police Stations. P/SII Seevaratnam and Wimalasena were attached to my Station, ‘Jenkins’.
We were to be addressed by the Acting Director later in the evening at assembly but this was postponed for the next day. The next day we assembled at Magul Maduwa at 0700 hours to listen to the address by the Acting Director, ASP K.D.C. Ekanayake. He was the ASP Training School and the most senior ASP attached to the Police Training School (PTS) at the time. He was acting until a permanent Director was posted to the School.
In his address, he explained the duties of a police officer, the service expected, and how we should conduct ourselves. This was later followed by another lecture by Inspector Boyagoda giving a general picture of what to be expected in the next few days. The next day we were taken round to the administration block, stores, library, and the Charge Room. We were issued the reference books, notebooks, and the Constables’ Manual.
We soon settled down to a pattern that was to be our daily routine for the next six to seven months at the Training School. It was six months of continuous, strenuous training. We had no access to the outside world during this period except for an occasional visit to places of professional interest such as the CID (Technical Branch), the JMO’s Office in Colombo, the Government Analysts’ Department, and IG’s Stores to order our uniforms and accouterments.
Apart from this, our Drill Instructor (Sub-Inspector Somapala) and the Assistant Director (ASP A.M.E. Jayasena) helped provide us with some limited social space. That was some solace in a cloistered environment.
The day started at 0630 hrs with the parade, riot drill, Physical Training (PT), or horse riding and was followed by lectures and sometimes motorcycle riding. The subjects were law, police orders and first-aid, and general knowledge. Classes were held both in the forenoon and the afternoon. In addition, we also had to be engaged in land development work, gardening, and recreational activities like tennis, rugger, cricket, and films. For 303 firing practice, the whole batch of recruits was taken to the Army Firing Range at Panagoda having booked the range well ahead of time.
From the first week itself, we had to keep a weekly diary in terms of Departmental Order (DO) E 214. They are official documents that ought to reflect a complete and comprehensive record of the daily activities of the officer concerned consisting of his comments and remarks on what he found during his duty. Usually, it is the ASPs and SPs in charge of territorial Districts and Divisions that are expected to keep these diaries.
The ASPs have to submit their diaries to the SP Division by Tuesday and by Wednesday they along with the diary of the SP should be in the hands of the DIG. It is through this diary that the SP Division and the DIG Range will know what is happening in their Divisions and Ranges. Since Weekly Diaries are official documents that could be called in evidence at any time the officers are expected to retain them for a specified period.
The weekly report was submitted through Inspector Boyagoda to ASP Training and Director Training (DT). The diaries would be read -and returned to us with comments and remarks by ASP Training and DT. I used to be very critical about many things in my comments in the weekly diaries. Several shortcomings in the facilities, methods of training, and even behavior of senior residents in the SSM who were there for the Inspector’s Course and even some of the training staff came under my critical comments.
Those who read my diaries took the comments in the correct spirit. In certain instances, they offered explanations and at times they took action to find solutions to what was pointed out and at yet other times I got a knock or two for what they apparently thought were my hasty remarks.
As early as the first week I suggested to the OIC of my station that we arrange a Vesak Carol as we did at Peradeniya University under Dr. Sarachchandra’s leadership. It was a religious cum cultural event. Enthused by this experience I thought it a good thing to start a new tradition since the training school provided the atmosphere of a University Campus. The OIC promised to consult the acting DT, Mr. Ekanayake. Later he told me that the suggestion was not received favorably.
I commented on this in my weekly diary and regretted that the suggestion was not accepted. The Acting DT promptly responded asking: “Is there a place for carol with music in the Buddhist religion?
If the ‘Seela, Samadhi, and Panna’ are the crux’ of the religion I do not think that carols have any place in it.” I was quite deflated and my ego was badly hurt. I did it with all good intentions thinking that it would add color to the drab training routine. Besides, I wanted to give the place a little bit of Sarachchandra flavour being an ardent follower of the Sarachchandra tradition.
Many years later when I heard that a dagoba was constructed in the training school under the aegis of Director Training K.D.C. Ekanayake, I thought what hypocrisy it was to have turned down my suggestion about carols reflecting on his comments about Seela, Samadhi, and Panna. However, I did not know about the correctness of his comments at that time until recently because I had no deep knowledge or understanding of Seela, Samadhi, or Panna and how irrelevant carols and music were to the issue.
Perhaps I had confused these three foundations with Sardha. Mr. Ekanayake had a point. I was just a trainee. Who was I to tell him what he should do? I was hurt because I had an inflated ego and thought I could introduce new traditions in a territory where I was a total stranger and a rookie novice. I think this episode had somewhat of a dampening effect on my assertive spirit. Yet I did not give up making those critical comments when they caught my eye.
In addition to classes, parade, horse riding (for the Probationary ASPs), etc. we also had other duties to attend to. We had to take the night Roll Call or supervise it being done by the Probationary SIs. In addition, we also had to do one night round per week. We had to check patrols and mention times and places visited during the night rounds in the diary. According to the requirement of the Departmental Order, we had to perform an early, middle, and late-night round respectively each week.
Night rounds on Saturday were not looked upon with favor as this would encourage one to get into the habit of postponing the performance of the night round till the last moment. Once I had done a night round on a Saturday and the remark of the DT was ‘avoid Saturday night rounds’. I was to face this remark several times from other officers as well during my career.
Once closer to passing out of the Training School we were exempted from night rounds on a couple of occasions. On one of these occasions we were in Colombo at the Transport Division for the Traffic Course but still attached to the PTS. The weekly diary went to the DIG Central Range in charge of the Transport Division. It came back with his remark about the exemption of the Night Rounds – ‘Should never have been allowed. The hard way at the start is the best’.
We followed classes with the Probationary SIs. Constables had their classes conducted at their respective Police Stations by the OIC and the Drill Instructors. Inspector Boyagoda was in-charge of our class. He appointed a class monitor as we started the classes. IP Boyagoda was like the proverbial village schoolmaster, stern and very strict. The only thing missing was the cane in hand. I felt like a schoolboy myself. He was so strict and relentless that everybody in the class hated him.
Perhaps he knew it but never cared or showed that he cared. I frequently came under his vigilant eye as I used to doze off often in class, particularly in the afternoon. I was tired after the riding classes in the morning. Besides, it was difficult to sit long hours on the benches in the class with injuries on my thighs and buttocks from horse riding. Further, lectures in law were technical and boring to me.
Under those circumstances, it was extremely difficult to keep my head up. So, I had to endure many a frown from him from the head of the class. However, occasionally there would be a crime playlet to liven up the `boring’ classes. I am not quite sure I enjoyed those playlets. If I had I would have commented on that in my weekly diary as I have done on many occasions on many subjects. But I cannot find any such comments in the diaries.
Sub-inspector Somapala who was in charge of our Drill and PT Squads was a very amiable and affable person. He generally had a friendly attitude towards us, the Probationery ASPs in particular, and the Probationary SIs in general. Consequently, he was liked by all in the class. He had a Morris Minor car. Whenever we wanted to visit Kalutara town on our Sundays off, he was always available and would take us in his car.
In addition to classes on law and parade we Probationers as we were called, had to learn horse riding and horsemanship and pass a test before confirmation. This was a departmental requirement set for the Probationers, a distinguishing feature of the Officer Class of those days, a relic of British Colonial Rule. Like Gazetted Officers using cars for their official travel now, in those days of British rule used a horse for their official traveling being the mode of transport at that time.
Difficult situations in the training program
As we started classes, we had no uniforms to wear. As such we were allowed to wear civilian clothes for some time until the uniforms were ready. In the second week after reporting, we were sent along with the Probationary SIs in the police bus to the IG’s Stores at Police Headquarters to collect our accouterments. The journey on the bus created some bonhomie among us as a group as we had an opportunity for informal communication.
This was an early opportunity to find out the talents of the group that we were mixing with. Quite a few showed their talent at singing and some others about their talents at mimicry and yarning. Probationary SIs Jagath Jayawardena and Henry Perera stood out among the singers. They were later to play important roles in the edited version of “Maname’, the mini-drama we organized for our passing-out concert.
Gunasena de Silva was the loudest heard in the crowd. He soon earned a name for his vociferousness amongst his friends to his discomfiture at a later date. We also joined in the singing and generally had a good time. Inspector Boyagoda came in charge of us. By nature, he was a shy character. He was a silent observer during the journey and gave us some leeway although he played an assertive role at other times at the school. We collected whatever was available in the IG’s Stores. We also collected the official issue of our weapon, a .380 revolver, and returned with the issues.
A couple of days later we went once again to Colombo, this time with Sub-Inspector Somapala, to order uniforms. Before we went, we were issued a cheque for Rs.1,000.00 each, the Uniform Allowance we were entitled to. We had to buy all our uniforms with this amount. This included two sets of shorts and shirts, two sets of longs and tunics, one set of ceremonial uniform, a mess dress, jodhpurs and breeches for horse riding, riding boots, two caps with braiding, and a raincoat.
In addition, we also had to buy our Sam Browne and the shoulder chords for the ceremonial dress. These had been earlier ordered at Army & Navy Stores and Millers, Cargills, or Apothecaries. The caps and other paraphernalia were bought from the Army & Navy Stores, a shop owned by a retired soldier named Wanigasekera who was well known to generations of probationers who went to him for their supplies.
However, to our disappointment, we found that none of these establishments undertook the orders anymore. Ultimately, we found that K.D. Jayaratne was willing to accept the order. Except for jodhpurs and breeches for which the material was not available, we ordered the rest and returned somewhat late in the evening. Sometime later we went again to Colombo for the fit-on.
On one occasion when we were visiting the JMO’s office, an interesting episode that we would recall time and later in our careers took place. Among the probationary SIs there was an officer who was boisterous in his behavior, showing off as someone who was fearless of any situation. At the JMO’s office, we were watching a post-mortem examination of a dead body crowding around the table when we suddenly heard a ‘thud’ sound as though a tree was felled. There was our ‘hero’ on the ground having fainted at the scene of the body being cut up. That was the last day of his boisterous behavior as his colleagues made fun of him over this incident at every possible turn. Since then he kept a low profile for the rest of his training period.
Perahera duty was another rare experience we raw recruits were treated to. The whole batch of recruits was deployed on special duty to perform Perahera duty in Kandy during the annual pageant. We traveled by train to Kandy and were there for the whole period of the perehera deployed on street and traffic duty.
Training in motorcycle riding was another phase of our training given at the PTS with the probationary ASPs and Sis being trained.. Initially, the training was done at the Aluvihare Grounds and after a couple of days, the whole batch was taken out on the public road through Kalutara Town up to Moratuwa and back accompanied by our drill instructors. It was a fun trip with each trainee taking a pillion rider on their motorcycles. At the end of the training, we received our motorcycle riding license after being examined by a Motorcar Examiner at the PTS itself.
Another memorable event during the training period was the term-end concert. After the final examinations were over, we had to participate in a concert and each group had to present an item. The probtionary ASPs and SIs had to present one item. After a few rounds of discussions among ourselves, I suggested that we re-enact the play `MANAME NADAGAMA’ by Dr. Sarachchandra and undertook the responsibility of organizing the play.
Having been an active member of the ‘Drama Circle’ of Peradeniya University and a student of Dr. Sarachchandra I was on familiar grounds. The idea being accepted I got on to the task immediately. Auditions were held, the cast was selected and we went into regular rehearsals. It was an all-male cast all coming from the batch of probationary ASPs and SIs. Costumes were borrowed and on the day of the concert I did the make-up. We somehow managed the musical instruments as well. Finally, the play was staged and the audience went into raptures. It was a great success and was the talking point of the PTS for a long time to come. It was said to be the first-ever quality production by a trainee batch. It was a cooperative effort that ultimately bloomed.
Features
The quiet habits behind wealth: Without chasing appearances
by Prof. C. A. Saliya
When people picture wealth, they often imagine luxury cars, large homes and expensive holidays. But financial advisers who work with wealthy clients describe a different picture: people who spend carefully, keep cash aside, invest patiently and understand the risks they take.
A recent Research NZ report, based on interviews with financial advisers, found that many wealthy people are discreet about money. They tend to live within their means, maintain emergency savings, take calculated investment risks and pay close attention to tax and financial structures.
For Sri Lankan families facing high living costs, loan repayments and uncertainty about the future, the lesson is not that everyone must become rich overnight. It is that better financial habits can create greater security over time.
Wealth is often quiet
One of the strongest habits associated with long-term financial stability is controlled spending. Many people with high incomes do not automatically increase their lifestyle every time they earn more. Instead, they decide in advance what they can afford, save consistently and avoid treating every salary increase as permission to spend more.
This does not mean denying life’s small pleasures. It means knowing the difference between a need, a want and a purchase made only to impress others.
In Sri Lanka, where social pressure can sometimes encourage visible spending on weddings, vehicles, clothing or celebrations, this is a difficult but useful principle. A household that earns well but spends everything may look prosperous while remaining financially fragile. By contrast, a family that saves even a modest amount regularly can build options: education for children, a medical reserve, a home deposit or capital for a small business.
The Central Bank of Sri Lanka’s financial-literacy survey found that bank-account ownership is high, but financial behaviour remains a concern. Its later roadmap notes that Sri Lankans show satisfactory financial knowledge compared with other countries, while positive everyday financial behaviour still lags behind.
Knowledge, in other words, is not enough. People also need routines.
Keep an emergency fund before taking bigger risks
The wealthy people described in the RNZ article often kept readily available savings for genuine emergencies and avoided using these funds for ordinary spending.
This is perhaps the most practical lesson for an average family. An emergency fund is not money that “does nothing.” It is money that protects a household from making a desperate decision when illness, job loss, vehicle repairs or an unexpected school expense arrives.
For some, the first target may be one month of essential expenses. Over time, it can be increased. The point is not perfection; it is having a buffer.
Without one, families may turn to costly borrowing, informal lenders or repeated credit-card debt. Research on household finance shows that weak credit knowledge, cross-borrowing and reliance on informal debt can increase the risk of over-indebtedness.
Saving alone may not be enough—but investing requires care
Saving is the starting point, not always the final destination. Money kept entirely in cash or low-return accounts can lose purchasing power over time, especially when prices rise. This is why financially secure people often invest—not recklessly, but with an understanding that long-term returns usually require some level of risk.
The key phrase is calculated risk. That means asking basic questions before investing: What is the business model? Is the institution regulated? How easily can I access my money? What happens if the investment falls in value? Am I being promised unusually high returns? Do I understand where my money is going?
A proper investment plan should not depend on rumours, social-media tips or promises of “guaranteed” profits. It should be diversified where possible—spread across suitable assets rather than placed in a single company, property deal or scheme.
For a young worker, investing may begin with a small, regular contribution. For a business owner, it may mean reinvesting carefully in a viable enterprise. For a family nearing retirement, capital protection and predictable income may matter more than aggressive growth. There is no single plan for everyone.
Debt can build wealth or destroy it

The RNZ article also makes a more controversial point: wealthy people sometimes use other people’s money, through debt or outside equity, to build businesses or buy assets. When investment returns exceed borrowing costs, borrowing can magnify gains. But the reverse is equally true: when returns fall or income is interrupted, debt magnifies losses.
This distinction is crucial in Sri Lanka.
Debt used for a productive purpose—such as a well-researched business, equipment that generates income, or an asset with manageable repayments—can be different from debt used for consumption. Borrowing for status purchases, repeated expenses or a lifestyle beyond one’s income can quickly become a burden.
Before taking a loan, families should calculate the monthly repayment under difficult conditions, not only favourable ones. Could the instalment still be paid if income falls? Is the interest rate fixed or variable? Is there enough emergency savings left after the initial payment? These questions may feel cautious, but caution is often what keeps a financial setback from becoming a crisis.
Pay attention to taxes and paperwork
Another quiet habit of financially successful people is paying attention to tax. They understand that the amount earned is not the same as the amount kept. They keep records, claim lawful deductions where applicable and structure businesses or investments properly.
The quiet habits
For self-employed people and small-business owners, this can be especially important. Clear records of income, expenses, invoices and taxes are not merely administrative chores. They help owners understand whether a business is truly profitable and make it easier to obtain formal finance when needed.
This is not an argument for avoiding tax. It is an argument for understanding the rules, meeting obligations and using legitimate options available under the law. When in doubt, taxpayers should seek advice from a qualified professional.
The human side of money
The most important lesson is that wealth is rarely created by one dramatic decision. It is usually built through repeated small choices: saving before spending, avoiding unnecessary debt, learning before investing, and staying patient when others are chasing quick gains.
A literature review of household finance supports this practical view. Studies consistently associate financial literacy, planning, self-control and budgeting with better saving and investment decisions. At the same time, the research warns that financial outcomes are shaped by income, access to formal financial services and economic conditions—not simply by individual discipline.
That matters in Sri Lanka, where many households are working hard simply to meet daily needs. Advice about wealth should never become blame. Not everyone starts with the same income, family support or opportunity.
But the habits that strengthen financial resilience are available in some form to most people: keep records, build a buffer, question easy-money promises, borrow carefully and make decisions based on long-term goals rather than short-term appearances. (See table)
Wealth may not always look glamorous. Often, it looks like an emergency fund nobody sees, an investment made patiently, a loan avoided, and a family that sleeps more peacefully because it has planned ahead.
(Prof. C. A. Saliya, is a charted accountant, academic, researcher and former banker. He is the author of SAMAJA GAVESHAKAYA and Springer Publication DOING SOCIAL RESEARCH. He can be contacted at saliya.ca@gmail.com. The views expressed in this article are his own and do not necessarily represent those of the organisations with which he is affiliated.)
Features
Tusker Kavantissa’s death exposes Sri Lanka’s wildlife conservation crisis
by Prof. Ranjith Bandara,
Emeritus Professor, University of Colombo
This article examines why community exclusion, excessive bureaucratic control, unequal distribution of conservation benefits, weak institutional accountability, and short-sighted political leadership continue to undermine wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka.
The death of Tusker Kavantissa is more than the loss of one of Sri Lanka’s most remarkable wild elephants. It exposes uncomfortable questions about how we protect our natural heritage, how conservation decisions are made, and why repeated warnings have failed to produce meaningful reforms. His death should compel us to examine not only what happened to one extraordinary animal, but also the deeper weaknesses in our wildlife conservation system.
Tusker Kavantissa, one of Sri Lanka’s most prominent wild tuskers, died on 16 October, 2026, after receiving veterinary treatment for an injury, reportedly caused by gunfire. Although the wound had shown some improvement, his health subsequently deteriorated. The precise cause of death requires confirmation through a proper post-mortem examination. Nevertheless, the circumstances raise serious questions about preventive protection, wildlife management, and institutional preparedness.
The wider picture is equally disturbing. According to recently reported figures, Sri Lanka has lost an average of approximately 402 elephants and 138 people annually, since 2019, due to human–elephant conflict. These figures reflect a continuing national tragedy affecting both wildlife and rural communities.
What Sri Lanka faces today is not merely a wildlife conservation problem. It is also a crisis of environmental governance, shaped by institutional weaknesses, political decisions, and the failure to recognise the economic and social realities of conservation.
Conservation without communities
One of the fundamental weaknesses of our conservation approach is that local communities are often treated as subjects of regulation rather than partners in conservation. They are expected to bear the risks, respect restrictions, and cooperate with government programmes, yet their influence over decisions affecting their lives remains limited.
For rural families living alongside wild elephants, conservation is not an abstract environmental objective. It directly affects their safety, agricultural income, property, and everyday lives.
Farmers frequently possess valuable knowledge about elephant movements, vulnerable locations, seasonal changes, and practical protection measures. Yet conservation interventions are sometimes designed without adequately considering this experience.
When decisions are imposed from above, communities may feel excluded from programmes they are expected to support. This weakens trust, reduces cooperation, and ultimately undermines conservation outcomes.
We must recognise that protecting elephants and protecting farmers are not conflicting objectives. Both are essential. A conservation policy that safeguards wildlife while neglecting human security cannot be considered successful.
The real challenge is to replace conservation imposed on communities with conservation undertaken alongside them. Meaningful participation requires more than consultation meetings. Communities must have a genuine role in planning, implementing, monitoring, and evaluating conservation activities.
Bureaucratic authority versus public accountability
Wildlife conservation requires strong institutions, professional expertise, and effective regulations. However, excessive bureaucratic control can become an obstacle when administrative authority takes precedence over practical outcomes.
Decision-making in Sri Lanka’s conservation system remains heavily dependent on central institutions. Administrative procedures, overlapping responsibilities, and limited coordination can delay responses to urgent problems.
More importantly, excessive centralisation can discourage local innovation and prevent communities from contributing practical solutions.
When administrative authority becomes more important than results, conservation risks becoming an exercise in controlling people rather than protecting nature.
This criticism should not be confused with questioning the dedication of frontline wildlife officers and veterinarians. Many work under difficult conditions with limited resources. The efforts undertaken to save Tusker Kavantissa deserve recognition.
However, individual commitment cannot compensate indefinitely for institutional weaknesses.
We must ask whether our conservation institutions have the capacity to identify risks early, protect vulnerable animals, coordinate emergency responses, and evaluate the effectiveness of their interventions.
Public accountability should, therefore, extend beyond compliance with administrative procedures to measurable conservation outcomes.
Who bears costs, and who receives benefits?
Perhaps the most neglected dimension of wildlife conservation in Sri Lanka is the unequal distribution of its economic costs and benefits.
Wild elephants contribute substantially to tourism, biodiversity, cultural heritage, and the country’s international image. Their conservation generates benefits enjoyed by society as a whole.
Yet the financial and personal costs are concentrated among rural communities living within elephant habitats.
A study published in 2023, involving 300 farming households in southern Sri Lanka, revealed a striking imbalance. Although these households lived near two national parks, none received economic benefits from tourism. Meanwhile, 57 percent had experienced elephant-related crop damage.
The findings raise a fundamental economic question: if the entire country benefits from elephant conservation, why should a relatively small and vulnerable section of society bear a disproportionate share of its costs?
Conservation cannot remain economically sustainable when its benefits are widely enjoyed but its costs are concentrated among those least able to bear them.
A separate study, published in 2024, involving 439 affected farming households, examined the possibility of financing compensation through tourism revenue. It demonstrated the potential for tourism-based financial mechanisms to support human–elephant coexistence.
The policy implications are significant
A proportion of wildlife tourism revenue could be directed towards affected communities through transparent benefit-sharing arrangements. Such measures could support compensation, village protection, local employment, community enterprises, and agricultural improvements.
However, financial compensation alone is insufficient. The 2023 study also indicated that fear of elephants and concerns about crop damage strongly influenced community attitudes. People must feel safe in their homes and farms, not merely receive payment after suffering losses.
Equitable benefit-sharing is, therefore, more than an act of generosity. It is an economic and social requirement for sustainable conservation.
Political decisions and absence of long-term vision
The weaknesses in wildlife conservation cannot be attributed solely to public officials. Political leadership must accept its share of responsibility.
Poor land-use planning, habitat fragmentation, obstruction of elephant movement corridors, and development decisions that inadequately consider environmental consequences have contributed to human–elephant conflict.
Political decisions made for immediate gains can create environmental and economic costs lasting for decades.
Another weakness is the preference for visible, short-term interventions.
Constructing electric fences, relocating elephants, and launching emergency operations can attract considerable publicity. However, such interventions should be evaluated according to their effectiveness, not their visibility.
Political leadership should be judged not by the number of conservation programmes announced, but by the lives protected, conflicts prevented, and long-term improvements achieved.
There is also a serious problem of policy continuity. Conservation cannot be governed according to electoral cycles or changing political priorities.
Elephant habitats, migration patterns, and ecological processes do not change with governments. Successful conservation, therefore, requires consistent national commitments extending beyond individual political administrations.
Without such continuity, public investment may be wasted while the underlying problems remain unresolved.
Problem is not always a lack of policy
Sri Lanka’s conservation crisis cannot be explained simply by a shortage of scientific knowledge or policy recommendations.
In many instances, the greater challenge lies in translating available knowledge into coordinated, adequately funded, and politically supported action.
The National Action Plan for the Mitigation of Human–Elephant Conflict, prepared in 2020, proposed a science-based approach that emphasised community participation, protection of villages and agricultural land, and more effective conflict-management strategies.
Yet an important question remains: how much of this plan has been implemented successfully?
Have implementation difficulties arisen from inadequate resources, weak institutional coordination, administrative resistance, or insufficient political commitment?
An independent assessment of the plan’s implementation would help identify these obstacles and establish clear responsibilities.
We must also recognise that a substantial proportion of Sri Lanka’s wild elephants live outside protected areas. Attempting to confine all elephants within national parks and forest reserves is, therefore, neither realistic nor sustainable.
Effective conservation requires land-use policies informed by elephant ecology, settlement patterns, agricultural needs, and the practical realities of human–wildlife coexistence.
A sound policy that remains largely unimplemented offers little protection to either elephants or people.
Towards more responsible conservation system
Sri Lanka needs a fundamental change in how wildlife conservation is governed.
Four priorities deserve immediate attention.
First, local communities must become genuine partners in conservation management, with meaningful responsibilities and decision-making opportunities.
Second, conservation benefits must be distributed more fairly. Wildlife tourism should contribute directly to protecting the livelihoods and safety of communities that bear conservation costs.
Third, existing national conservation plans should be independently reviewed to identify implementation gaps and establish a realistic timetable for corrective action.
Fourth, conservation institutions must become more accountable for measurable outcomes, including reductions in human deaths, elephant mortality, crop losses, and property damage.
These reforms require cooperation among wildlife, forestry, agriculture, land, irrigation, and local government institutions.
They also demand political leadership willing to prioritise long-term results over short-term publicity.
For exceptional animals, such as Tusker Kavantissa, improved risk monitoring, preventive protection, and timely veterinary responses are particularly important. However, conservation should not be limited to protecting a few well-known animals.
Every wild elephant has ecological value, just as every person living alongside elephants has an equal right to safety.
The objective must be a system that protects both.
Lesson tusker Kavantissa leaves behind
The death of Tusker Kavantissa should not become another moment of national sorrow that gradually fades from public memory. It should mark a turning point in how Sri Lanka approaches wildlife conservation.
A proper investigation into his death is essential. Equally important is an honest examination of the conservation system within which such tragedies continue to occur.
The real challenge is not choosing between people and elephants. It is creating a system in which both can coexist safely, and where the responsibilities, costs, and benefits of conservation are shared fairly.
This requires more than scientific expertise and stronger regulations. It demands accountable institutions, meaningful community participation, economic fairness, and political leadership guided by a clear long-term vision.
Our greatest failure would not be the loss of Tusker Kavantissa alone. It would be allowing the same weaknesses in our conservation system to claim more lives while we continue to avoid the reforms that could prevent them.
Features
Equality before the Law as foundation of Sri Lanka’s recovery
by Jehan Perera
The government appears set to overcome the first major challenge to one of its foundational principles. It has faced down demands from sections of the Buddhist clergy and opposition parties to release Ven. Galagodaatte Gnanasara from his prison sentence for contempt of court.
Ven Gnanasara is best known as the general secretary of the Bodu Bala Sena, a nationalist Sinhala grouping. The government seemed unfazed by a protest march organised by Buddhist monks and the opposition parties and its supporters organised an even bigger march to support the government’s position. It is notable that the general population did not get involved in either march in any substantial number. The issue has now become a test of whether the government will uphold its commitment to apply the law equally, irrespective of a person’s position or status, even when doing so brings it into conflict with a powerful constituency.
The case has a specific legal history. Ven. Gnanasara was sentenced to six years’ imprisonment by the Court of Appeal in 2018 for contempt of court in a case involving former military personnel where he disrupted the proceedings. The Supreme Court rejected his appeal in 2018. Former President Maithripala Sirisena subsequently granted him a presidential pardon in 2019. Last month, the Supreme Court invalidated that pardon. The initial demand by Buddhist monks and their lay supporters was that Ven. Gnanasara should be permitted to wear his Buddhist robes when appearing in public before the courts. The government has indicated its willingness to examine the procedures governing the treatment of Buddhist monks in prison, in consultation with the relevant religious authorities. However, the initial demand has now been escalated into a demand for a presidential pardon.
One of the central promises of the National People’s Power (NPP) during its election campaign two years ago was to apply the law equally to all. This commitment has shaped the government’s approach to allegations of corruption and criminality involving individuals who previously wielded political power. The NPP government was swept into power on a wave of antipathy towards those in previous governments who were perceived to have abused their positions for private gain. The economic collapse Sri Lanka experienced in 2022, and the hardships endured across society, remain vivid in the public memory. The past two years have seen the government pursuing those accused of corruption and other offences. Several high-ranking members of previous governments have faced arrest and legal proceedings and been sentenced to jail.
Religious Concerns
The ability of opposition parties to mobilise widespread resistance against proceedings involving their leaders has been limited, as much of the general population continues to favour accountability for past financial crimes. However, the case of Ven. Gnanasara is different. It does not concern allegations of financial corruption, but the relationship between religious authority, the courts and the law of the land. This is where the distinction between respecting religious traditions and upholding the law becomes crucial. There is a sense among sections of the general population that Buddhist monks should not be treated on a par with others and that requiring Ven. Gnanasara to appear in court without his robes was unjust and contrary to the national ethos. Such sentiments reflect the special place Buddhism occupies in Sri Lanka’s history and society. Sinhala Buddhist nationalism has been a potent political force throughout the country’s history, drawing on a heritage that extends back more than two millennia. The question is whether respect for Buddhism needs to also entail the exemption of individual monks from the ordinary requirements of the law and thereby treat them differently.
The challenge would be to accommodate legitimate religious concerns through rational and lawful procedures without allowing religious status to become a source of legal privilege. The government has been amenable to addressing the issue of monastic robes, but has so far resisted the demand to release Ven. Gnanasara through a new pardon. President Anura Kumara Dissanayake and government members have made it clear that the government would not bend the law to accommodate any individual. They have taken the position that any shortcomings in existing rules should be addressed by changing the rules through proper procedures, rather than by making an exception for a particular individual. If the government holds its position, it will demonstrate that its commitment to the rule of law extends even to constituencies that have historically enjoyed considerable political influence.
This is important not only for the country’s democratic institutions but also for its economic future. Sri Lanka is seeking to recover from its economic collapse and establish the foundations for sustained growth. The International Monetary Fund’s analysis of Sri Lanka’s governance weaknesses has repeatedly emphasised the economic costs of corruption and institutional deficiencies. Its 2024 analysis of governance and growth concluded that comprehensive and coherent reforms could bring significant macroeconomic benefits. The IMF’s 2025 assessment also highlighted the importance of sustained governance reforms in unlocking the country’s growth potential. Investors, both domestic and foreign, need confidence that public institutions function according to predictable rules, that contracts and property rights are protected, and that political connections or social status will not determine how the law is applied.
Sensitive Issue
Sri Lanka has long sought the leap towards prosperity that has proved elusive under successive governments. Economic reform alone will not achieve it. The connection between the rule of law and economic prosperity is direct. Businesses are more likely to invest when they can expect disputes to be resolved fairly, public resources to be managed transparently and regulatory decisions to be made on rational grounds. No country can achieve a durable economic take-off if its institutions are perceived to operate according to political favour, inherited privilege or communal pressure. Sri Lanka cannot afford to return to a political culture in which powerful interests are shielded from accountability while ordinary citizens bear the costs.
Changing a political culture that has evolved over the decades if not centuries is a difficult undertaking, particularly in a country where political leaders have long relied on religious and communal identities to consolidate their support. It requires not only firmness but also sensitivity, dialogue and a willingness to reform laws and institutions where genuine deficiencies exist. The present controversy offers an opportunity to demonstrate that these objectives need not be in conflict. The government can respect the Buddhist clergy’s concerns about the treatment of monks in prison while refusing to grant an individual an exemption from a judicial sentence. It can recognise the importance of Buddhism to the country while maintaining that no religious or political authority stands above the law.
The question is whether national traditions and ethos are interpreted in ways that strengthen justice, responsibility and social harmony, or invoked to defend privileges that undermine them. The country needs a transformation in public expectations from privilege to accountability, from communal claims to equal citizenship, and from personal discretion to institutions governed by law.
The government’s handling of the case involving Ven. Gnanasara is therefore about more than one monk or one sentence. This particular case will determine whether the government can build a system in which no government, religious authority or politically influential individuals can place themselves beyond the law. A just society must be able to honour both its traditions and its commitment to equality before the law.
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