Features
Speech writing for Mrs. B, mischievous Felix and 1965 general election
Governor General Gopallawa was a pillar of rectitude
(Excerpted from Rendering unto Caesar, by Bradman Weerakoon
Making speeches and preparing for them, was a constant occupational hazard for the prime minister and her staff. The international speeches were clearly the most important from a personal as well as country’s image-building point of view. Sirimavo gained immense credit from a statement she made in Belgrade at the Nonaligned Summit in 1961, when as the first woman prime minister of the world she used the phrase — As a woman and a mother, I call upon the nations of the world to desist from violence in their dealings with each other …’This phrase,was unique as no other world leader up to then could have used it, and was carried in headlines across the world giving Sirimavo and Ceylon a tremendous boost.
The trouble with great phrases is that once they are made, they cannot be used again, or if so, very sparingly. We faced this problem acutely in Cairo in 1964, at the next Non-aligned Summit. Once again, the drafting team was Felix, Glannie and myself Sirimavo had told us in advance that we must try to make it as powerful as the speech that she had done in Belgrade. We tried as hard as we could, but could not come up with any extra-bright ideas as we struggled through the draft for the rest day, a day before the opening. As a break from our labours, that afternoon we went to visit the Cairo Museum. It was eerie, being so physically close to the Pharaohs, dead and mummified, some three thousand years ago.
Late that evening we were still at it trying to find the magic breakthrough. At 9.30 that night Sirimavo peeped into the room on her way to bed and asked, “How are you doing? Have you found anything exciting to say?” At which point, Felix, at his most mischievous, softly said, “No, not yet Sirima. But how would you like to start it like this, now that you are in Cairo, As a woman and a mummy, I call upon, etc, etc.’ Sirimavo yelled at him, “Felix!” as if she could have strangled him and chuckling softly to herself, turned away closing the door behind her.
The Indo-Sri Lanka Agreement
The question of the citizenship rights of the Tamils of Indian origin who worked on the plantations was something always high on Sirimavo’s agenda. She was well aware of the political implications of the issue. She had personal knowledge of the condition of the people working on estates and the sad quality of their lives, from her childhood in the province of Sabaragamuwa, which had a large number of plantations in both tea and rubber. The Federal Party too, had included citizenship of the Indian Tamils as part of their basic four-point minimum agenda.
The Tamils of recent Indian origin, as a group, had been disenfranchised through the Citizenship Acts of 1949. They had little representation in Parliament, and since the 1950s had been represented only through one or two nominated members of Parliament. Soon after independence, in the first Parliament of 1947, they had had as many as 11 representatives in a House of 101 MPs. The legislation of 1949 had removed most of the Indian Tamil voters from the electoral lists in the up-country areas and their representation by Tamil members of Parliament had declined.
This had enabled, what were referred to as the `Kandyan electorates’, to be represented thereafter more by boomiputras – sons of the soil – rather than by representatives who were deemed to have only a marginal interest in Ceylon and a greater loyalty to India. This was the prevalent feeling among a section of the population who were proud to refer to themselves as Kandyan Sinhalese and the last to be brought under British rule in 1815. But, it had left behind a feeling of having been discriminated against, in the minds of the plantation Tamils and was to be a constant factor in their political agenda.
The Federal Party had been quick to make common cause with the plantation Tamils on this account using it as another example of the domineering character of the majority Sinhalese state.
Sirimavo realized that the critical issue in this very complex she had serious concerns, was to come to agreement with India on the specific numbers as to who would become Ceylon citizens and those who would become Indian citizens. On a visit to New Delhi in October 1964, she arrived at a historic settlement of this problem which had long evaded resolution. The Indo-Ceylon Agreement or the Sirima-Shastri Pact, it was popularly called, was undoubtedly the high point during this period of her two terms as the prime minister of the country.
I recall her telephoning me from Delhi to inquire what the reactions were in Colombo about the Agreement which stated that Ceylon would accept 300,000 of these persons as citizens. I believe she was bothered as to whether this number might be regarded as too large. I assured her that considering that there were at the time many as 975,000 persons of Indian origin in Ceylon and that India had accepted to take 525,000 as citizens of India, we had come out rather well in the negotiations.
It would mean in effect that for every four persons of recent Indian origin we took in as citizens, India would take seven. If the Agreement worked out according to plan around 15,000 persons of Indian origin would be repatriated annually over a spread of about 15 years. Things finally did not work out precisely as planned on schedule. But after a while, a regular flow of repatriation took place and the problem which had strained relations between India and Ceylon, and also become a domestic political issue for long, was resolved. It was one of the most notable political and diplomatic achievements that Sirimavo could take credit for.
Her personal touch in foreign relations
Sirimavo evinced great interest in events occurring around the world and brought a personal touch into her dealings with world leaders. Unexpected and dramatic change would affect her in a very personal way. I recall the evident sadness with which she spoke to me on the morning of President Kennedy’s assassination. Her thoughts were of the grieving widow, Jacqueline and the two children Caroline and John junior. It must have brought memories of what she herself had experienced in September 1959.
Frances Willis, the US ambassador had broken the news to her in the early hours of the morning. Frances was the first of a long line of female Heads of the Foreign Missions who came to be appointed for duty in Ceylon at the time on the assumption that they being female, would have easier entry to a woman prime minister than a male ambassador. It did not always work that way, but between Frances and Sirimavo, who were both very dignified in behaviour, there was an excellent rapport.
This certainly helped with all the actions we were taking at the time which were considered adverse to US interests, like the take-over of the oil distribution business which was then shared by the giant transnationals – Shell, Caltex and Mobiloil. At Kennedy’s death, Sirimavo wanted a well-drafted message of sympathy to Jacqueline Kennedy, which was sent by cypher to our ambassador in Washington for handing over. Similarly, the death of Feroze Gandhi, her friend Indira’s husband, also evoked a long and supportive letter of sympathy. She was very good about keeping in touch with her wide circle of friends abroad especially at moments of personal grief
President Tito and his wife Jovanka Broz were also special friends after the many occasions they had been together on the Non-aligned circuit. Yugoslavia was a favourite country of hers, and Sirimavo went as often as she could, both officially and privately, because there she had found a place for effective treatment of the knee problem which troubled her often. She liked the ‘alternative medicine’ method of therapeutic mud-packs, somewhat reminiscent of our own ayurveda which was practised in the clinic in Bratislava on the Adriatic coast. This was the only health problem that she had, throughout the four and a half years of her first premiership. I believe the lift at Temple Trees was installed at this time as she found it very painful, at times when the knee became inflamed, to climb the stairs to her bedroom upstairs. Once or twice, I even had to carry the official files into her room and she would attend to the papers quite cheerily, while propped up in bed.
Administrative Reform at home
Sirimavo made some important changes in public service administration both at the top and the bottom of the ladder. I had a feeling that Felix was very much behind all this. In 1963 after much consideration, the Ceylon Civil Service was abolished and replaced by the Ceylon Administrative Service constructed on broader recruitment base. The writing had been on the wall for a while. The primary reason for the change seemed to be that, Felix particularly, and a few of the other ministers, were not too comfortable with having their chief administrative advisors being people with their own individual minds and opinions.
They would have preferred less debate and more action once the political decisions had been taken. It was not so much obstruction, as the perceived continuing challenge to their authority, which was galling. How much easier it would be if one had more obedient, less intellectually inclined, and less argumentative people to take their orders and carry them out, seemed to be the basic reasoning which the Cabinet accepted.
There was some truth in these suppositions. The Ceylon Civil Service (CCS) which was very much an elite club with its own subculture, still tried to maintain the tradition of the impartial, learned, and omnicompetent advisor. Raw entrants to the service in the post-independence period, were increasingly academically brilliant young men coming in from the rural Maha Vidyalayas. But they were quickly schooled by their peers in the CCS who largely came from the traditional urban public schools, which had earlier produced the base of the service, into the ‘culture’, and became ofttimes stronger keepers of the tradition than their mentors.
After the political revolution of 1956 and the emergence of a new breed of politicians, all this had been under attack. The CCS seemed to be supremely indifferent to the profound changes going on, unless the changes affected their own interests. Radical change in the objectives and methods of governance were afoot. The accent being on delivering what the people at the grassroots wanted, and delivering it quickly. Felix seriously felt that many of the Ceylon Civil Service administrators were too ‘dyed in the wool’ in old-school ways and methods.
What he thought of them was that there was too much of the observance of the letter of the law and not enough sensitivity to the spirit of the new times. In a way there was much truth in what he was saying because the civil servants had the independence of doing things the way they wanted to because of the levels of education and achievement they possessed academically, and also since most of them had independent means. A civil servant was a prized catch for the daughter of a successful businessman or a rich land owner. There were many CC S men of acute intellectual brilliance who had been snared by very rich bus magnates or owners of vast acres of coconut and rubber land. Felix’s point was that with all this acquired wealth behind them would they be able to implement the programme of socialistic reforms the government had in mind?
So without much ado in 1963 all of us civil servants were given the option to retire immediately ‘on abolition of office terms’, or of retiring within the next 10 years on the same generous terms. Several of the older ones left pretty soon while some of the younger ones, like myself, remained to exercise the option at a later stage of our career. Similarly, Sirimavo with Felix’s help, made a strategically important structural change at the bottom of the administrative chain of the highly centralized structure of government in place at the time. This was the abolition of the office of the ‘Village Headman’ and his replacement by the more homely grama sevaka – the servant of the people.
The role of the Governor-General
The results of the general elections called by Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike in 1965 were inconclusive. The SLFP-led front had not obtained an outright majority of parliamentary seats. The UNP, among the parties that had contested, had won the most number of seats. Sirimavo who always wanted to scrupulously observe the rules and procedures asked me to prepare the usual letters of resignation of her government.
However there were other political forces at work attempting to persuade her to consider other options, before resigning. One such, put forward by Dr Colvin R de Silva, the astute legal brain of the LSSP, was to hold on and face a vote of confidence when Parliament met in ten days time. The debate was fast and furious and tempers ran high. As usual much was at stake. I recall very clearly the alignment of forces. Those of the Left were arguing for the prime minister to stay on, and let the issue be decided by
Parliament when it met. Others, mainly her family members, like her Private Secretary Mackie, Felix and Lakshmi Bandaranaike and James and Siva Obeysekere, were for her doing, what she wanted to do, which was to resign and allow the governor-general the opportunity to call whomever he thought could form a government, to do so.
The delay in the prime minister resigning was leading to unruly behaviour in the city. Outside in the city. Outside Temple Trees a crowd of people gathered at the gates in support of Sirimavo. I saw my university colleague, the diminutive Stanley Tillekeratne, then an SLFP back-bencher, orating before the restive crowd. Through all this William Gopallawa, the governor-general acted with impeccable integrity.
At times like these, the role of the governor-general in terms of the constitution came into its own. At normal times although the highest in the land protocol-wise, he had no effective power to act on his own. After a general election however, and one which was indecisive, he was endowed with wide discretionary power. He could in his discretion, when informed by the prime minister that she had resigned, summon a leader of a political party to form a government, if in his view that political leader could command the confidence of Parliament. He could also, in circumstances that nobody else could do, call on the resigned prime minister to try to win the support of other parties and produce proof that he/she could command the confidence of the House.
It was an excruciatingly difficult time for Gopallawa. It was Sirimavo who in the aftermath of the failed coup d’etat in 1962, and the removal of Sir Oliver, recommended his name to the Queen for appointment as governor-general. There were links of kinship between the Bandaranaikes and the Gopallawas. The other party, in the wings – the UNP – might deal harshly with him if they came in, since he had been appointed by the SLFP.
None of these considerations bothered Gopallawa when it came to doing his duty. During those critical hours when the country’s fate, hung in the balance as it were, Gopallawa was unshakable in his devotion to duty. Almost every hour he would call me to ask whether the prime minister had made up her mind. Once, in exasperation, he asked me whether he should send over Erskine May, the authoritative book on parliamentary procedure and practice, with the relevant portions highlighted. I begged for time.
I was being given a difficult time by the left members. They resented my advice to Sirimavo that she resign and leave it open to the governor-general to take the matter further. Finally Colvin ordered me to leave the room. I countered that I worked for the prime minister and would only leave if the prime minister asked me to do so. Sirimavo remained calm and said nothing. So I remained.
That night dejected and disappointed at the delay, my car was stoned as I drove down Cotta Road to my home in Rajagiriya. I announced tearfully to Damayanthi that I would be resigning the next day if there was not a proper outcome. Around seven the next morning I had a call from Mackie asking me to come to TT (Temple Trees) as soon as possible as the prime minister had decided to sign the letter. I got back to TT, had the letter signed and was coming down the stairs when I met a small group of those who had been trying to persuade the prime minister to stay on, coming up.
I ignored their rather black looks and went over to Queens House. Gopallawa was much relieved and immediately sent for Dudley to see whether he had the required majority. The hero of the story for me was Gopallawa. His had been a supreme act of patriotism; an act of loyalty to the state which transcended party, kinship and even personal obligation.
Features
Rebuilding Sri Lanka Through Inclusive Governance
In the immediate aftermath of Cyclone Ditwah, the government has moved swiftly to establish a Presidential Task Force for Rebuilding Sri Lanka with a core committee to assess requirements, set priorities, allocate resources and raise and disburse funds. Public reaction, however, has focused on the committee’s problematic composition. All eleven committee members are men, and all non-government seats are held by business personalities with no known expertise in complex national development projects, disaster management and addressing the needs of vulnerable populations. They belong to the top echelon of Sri Lanka’s private sector which has been making extraordinary profits. The government has been urged by civil society groups to reconsider the role and purpose of this task force and reconstitute it to be more representative of the country and its multiple needs.
The group of high-powered businessmen initially appointed might greatly help mobilise funds from corporates and international donors, but this group may be ill equipped to determine priorities and oversee disbursement and spending. It would be necessary to separate fundraising, fund oversight and spending prioritisation, given the different capabilities and considerations required for each. International experience in post disaster recovery shows that inclusive and representative structures are more likely to produce outcomes that are equitable, efficient and publicly accepted. Civil society, for instance, brings knowledge rooted in communities, experience in working with vulnerable groups and a capacity to question assumptions that may otherwise go unchallenged.
A positive and important development is that the government has been responsive to these criticisms and has invited at least one civil society representative to join the Rebuilding Sri Lanka committee. This decision deserves to be taken seriously and responded to positively by civil society which needs to call for more representation rather than a single representative. Such a demand would reflect an understanding that rebuilding after a national disaster cannot be undertaken by the state and the business community alone. The inclusion of civil society will strengthen transparency and public confidence, particularly at a moment when trust in institutions remains fragile. While one appointment does not in itself ensure inclusive governance, it opens the door to a more participatory approach that needs to be expanded and institutionalised.
Costly Exclusions
Going down the road of history, the absence of inclusion in government policymaking has cost the country dearly. The exclusion of others, not of one’s own community or political party, started at the very dawn of Independence in 1948. The Father of the Nation, D S Senanayake, led his government to exclude the Malaiyaha Tamil community by depriving them of their citizenship rights. Eight years later, in 1956, the Oxford educated S W R D Bandaranaike effectively excluded the Tamil speaking people from the government by making Sinhala the sole official language. These early decisions normalised exclusion as a tool of governance rather than accommodation and paved the way for seven decades of political conflict and three decades of internal war.
Exclusion has also taken place virulently on a political party basis. Both of Sri Lanka’s post Independence constitutions were decided on by the government alone. The opposition political parties voted against the new constitutions of 1972 and 1977 because they had been excluded from participating in their design. The proposals they had made were not accepted. The basic law of the country was never forged by consensus. This legacy continues to shape adversarial politics and institutional fragility. The exclusion of other communities and political parties from decision making has led to frequent reversals of government policy. Whether in education or economic regulation or foreign policy, what one government has done the successor government has undone.
Sri Lanka’s poor performance in securing the foreign investment necessary for rapid economic growth can be attributed to this factor in the main. Policy instability is not simply an economic problem but a political one rooted in narrow ownership of power. In 2022, when the people went on to the streets to protest against the government and caused it to fall, they demanded system change in which their primary focus was corruption, which had reached very high levels both literally and figuratively. The focus on corruption, as being done by the government at present, has two beneficial impacts for the government. The first is that it ensures that a minimum of resources will be wasted so that the maximum may be used for the people’s welfare.
Second Benefit
The second benefit is that by focusing on the crime of corruption, the government can disable many leaders in the opposition. The more opposition leaders who are behind bars on charges of corruption, the less competition the government faces. Yet these gains do not substitute for the deeper requirement of inclusive governance. The present government seems to have identified corruption as the problem it will emphasise. However, reducing or eliminating corruption by itself is not going to lead to rapid economic development. Corruption is not the sole reason for the absence of economic growth. The most important factor in rapid economic growth is to have government policies that are not reversed every time a new government comes to power.
For Sri Lanka to make the transition to self-sustaining and rapid economic development, it is necessary that the economic policies followed today are not reversed tomorrow. The best way to ensure continuity of policy is to be inclusive in governance. Instead of excluding those in the opposition, the mainstream opposition in particular needs to be included. In terms of system change, the government has scored high with regard to corruption. There is a general feeling that corruption in the country is much reduced compared to the past. However, with regard to inclusion the government needs to demonstrate more commitment. This was evident in the initial choice of cabinet ministers, who were nearly all men from the majority ethnic community. Important committees it formed, including the Presidential Task Force for a Clean Sri Lanka and the Rebuilding Sri Lanka Task Force, also failed at first to reflect the diversity of the country.
In a multi ethnic and multi religious society like Sri Lanka, inclusivity is not merely symbolic. It is essential for addressing diverse perspectives and fostering mutual understanding. It is important to have members of the Tamil, Muslim and other minority communities, and women who are 52 percent of the population, appointed to important decision making bodies, especially those tasked with national recovery. Without such representation, the risk is that the very communities most affected by the crisis will remain unheard, and old grievances will be reproduced in new forms. The invitation extended to civil society to participate in the Rebuilding Sri Lanka Task Force is an important beginning. Whether it becomes a turning point will depend on whether the government chooses to make inclusion a principle of governance rather than treat it as a show of concession made under pressure.
by Jehan Perera
Features
Reservoir operation and flooding
Former Director General of Irrigation, G.T. Dharmasena, in an article, titled “Revival of Innovative systems for reservoir operation and flood forecasting” in The Island of 17 December, 2025, starts out by stating:
“Most reservoirs in Sri Lanka are agriculture and hydropower dominated. Reservoir operators are often unwilling to acknowledge the flood detention capability of major reservoirs during the onset of monsoons. Deviating from the traditional priority for food production and hydropower development, it is time to reorient the operational approach of major reservoirs operators under extreme events, where flood control becomes a vital function. While admitting that total elimination of flood impacts is not technically feasible, the impacts can be reduced by efficient operation of reservoirs and effective early warning systems”.
Addressing the question often raised by the public as to “Why is flooding more prominent downstream of reservoirs compared to the period before they were built,” Mr. Dharmasena cites the following instances: “For instance, why do (sic) Magama in Tissamaharama face floods threats after the construction of the massive Kirindi Oya reservoir? Similarly, why does Ambalantota flood after the construction of Udawalawe Reservoir? Furthermore, why is Molkawa, in the Kalutara District area, getting flooded so often after the construction of Kukule reservoir”?
“These situations exist in several other river basins, too. Engineers must, therefore, be mindful of the need to strictly control the operation of the reservoir gates by their field staff. (Since) “The actual field situation can sometimes deviate significantly from the theoretical technology… it is necessary to examine whether gate operators are strictly adhering to the operational guidelines, as gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site”.
COMMENT
For Mr. Dharmasena to bring to the attention of the public that “gate operation currently relies too much on the discretion of the operator at the site”, is being disingenuous, after accepting flooding as a way of life for ALL major reservoirs for decades and not doing much about it. As far as the public is concerned, their expectation is that the Institution responsible for Reservoir Management should, not only develop the necessary guidelines to address flooding but also ensure that they are strictly administered by those responsible, without leaving it to the arbitrary discretion of field staff. This exercise should be reviewed annually after each monsoon, if lives are to be saved and livelihoods are to be sustained.
IMPACT of GATE OPERATION on FLOODING
According to Mr. Dhamasena, “Major reservoir spillways are designed for very high return periods… If the spillway gates are opened fully when reservoir is at full capacity, this can produce an artificial flood of a very large magnitude… Therefore, reservoir operators must be mindful in this regard to avoid any artificial flood creation” (Ibid). Continuing, he states: “In reality reservoir spillways are often designed for the sole safety of the reservoir structure, often compromising the safety of the downstream population. This design concept was promoted by foreign agencies in recent times to safeguard their investment for dams. Consequently, the discharge capacities of these spill gates significantly exceed the natural carrying capacity of river(s) downstream” (Ibid).
COMMENT
The design concept where priority is given to the “sole safety of the structure” that causes the discharge capacity of spill gates to “significantly exceed” the carrying capacity of the river is not limited to foreign agencies. Such concepts are also adopted by local designers as well, judging from the fact that flooding is accepted as an inevitable feature of reservoirs. Since design concepts in their current form lack concern for serious destructive consequences downstream and, therefore, unacceptable, it is imperative that the Government mandates that current design criteria are revisited as a critical part of the restoration programme.
CONNECTIVITY BETWEEN GATE OPENINGS and SAFETY MEASURES
It is only after the devastation of historic proportions left behind by Cyclone Ditwah that the Public is aware that major reservoirs are designed with spill gate openings to protect the safety of the structure without factoring in the consequences downstream, such as the safety of the population is an unacceptable proposition. The Institution or Institutions associated with the design have a responsibility not only to inform but also work together with Institutions such as Disaster Management and any others responsible for the consequences downstream, so that they could prepare for what is to follow.
Without working in isolation and without limiting it only to, informing related Institutions, the need is for Institutions that design reservoirs to work as a team with Forecasting and Disaster Management and develop operational frameworks that should be institutionalised and approved by the Cabinet of Ministers. The need is to recognize that without connectivity between spill gate openings and safety measures downstream, catastrophes downstream are bound to recur.
Therefore, the mandate for dam designers and those responsible for disaster management and forecasting should be for them to jointly establish guidelines relating to what safety measures are to be adopted for varying degrees of spill gate openings. For instance, the carrying capacity of the river should relate with a specific openinig of the spill gate. Another specific opening is required when the population should be compelled to move to high ground. The process should continue until the spill gate opening is such that it warrants the population to be evacuated. This relationship could also be established by relating the spill gate openings to the width of the river downstream.
The measures recommended above should be backed up by the judicious use of the land within the flood plain of reservoirs for “DRY DAMS” with sufficient capacity to intercept part of the spill gate discharge from which excess water could be released within the carrying capacity of the river. By relating the capacity of the DRY DAM to the spill gate opening, a degree of safety could be established. However, since the practice of demarcating flood plains is not taken seriously by the Institution concerned, the Government should introduce a Bill that such demarcations are made mandatory as part of State Land in the design and operation of reservoirs. Adopting such a practice would not only contribute significantly to control flooding, but also save lives by not permitting settlement but permitting agricultural activities only within these zones. Furthermore, the creation of an intermediate zone to contain excess flood waters would not tax the safety measures to the extent it would in the absence of such a safety net.
CONCLUSION
Perhaps, the towns of Kotmale and Gampola suffered severe flooding and loss of life because the opening of spill gates to release the unprecedented volumes of water from Cyclone Ditwah, was warranted by the need to ensure the safety of Kotmale and Upper Kotmale Dams.
This and other similar disasters bring into focus the connectivity that exists between forecasting, operation of spill gates, flooding and disaster management. Therefore, it is imperative that the government introduce the much-needed legislative and executive measures to ensure that the agencies associated with these disciplines develop a common operational framework to mitigate flooding and its destructive consequences. A critical feature of such a framework should be the demarcation of the flood plain, and decree that land within the flood plain is a zone set aside for DRY DAMS, planted with trees and free of human settlements, other than for agricultural purposes. In addition, the mandate of such a framework should establish for each river basin the relationship between the degree to which spill gates are opened with levels of flooding and appropriate safety measures.
The government should insist that associated Agencies identify and conduct a pilot project to ascertain the efficacy of the recommendations cited above and if need be, modify it accordingly, so that downstream physical features that are unique to each river basin are taken into account and made an integral feature of reservoir design. Even if such restrictions downstream limit the capacities to store spill gate discharges, it has to be appreciated that providing such facilities within the flood plain to any degree would mitigate the destructive consequences of the flooding.
By Neville Ladduwahetty
Features
Listening to the Language of Shells
The ocean rarely raises its voice. Instead, it leaves behind signs — subtle, intricate and enduring — for those willing to observe closely. Along Sri Lanka’s shores, these signs often appear in the form of seashells: spiralled, ridged, polished by waves, carrying within them the quiet history of marine life. For Marine Naturalist Dr. Malik Fernando, these shells are not souvenirs of the sea but storytellers, bearing witness to ecological change, resilience and loss.
“Seashells are among the most eloquent narrators of the ocean’s condition,” Dr. Fernando told The Island. “They are biological archives. If you know how to read them, they reveal the story of our seas, past and present.”
A long-standing marine conservationist and a member of the Marine Subcommittee of the Wildlife & Nature Protection Society (WNPS), Dr. Fernando has dedicated much of his life to understanding and protecting Sri Lanka’s marine ecosystems. While charismatic megafauna often dominate conservation discourse, he has consistently drawn attention to less celebrated but equally vital marine organisms — particularly molluscs, whose shells are integral to coastal and reef ecosystems.
“Shells are often admired for their beauty, but rarely for their function,” he said. “They are homes, shields and structural components of marine habitats. When shell-bearing organisms decline, it destabilises entire food webs.”
Sri Lanka’s geographical identity as an island nation, Dr. Fernando says, is paradoxically underrepresented in national conservation priorities. “We speak passionately about forests and wildlife on land, but our relationship with the ocean remains largely extractive,” he noted. “We fish, mine sand, build along the coast and pollute, yet fail to pause and ask how much the sea can endure.”
Through his work with the WNPS Marine Subcommittee, Dr. Fernando has been at the forefront of advocating for science-led marine policy and integrated coastal management. He stressed that fragmented governance and weak enforcement continue to undermine marine protection efforts. “The ocean does not recognise administrative boundaries,” he said. “But unfortunately, our policies often do.”
He believes that one of the greatest challenges facing marine conservation in Sri Lanka is invisibility. “What happens underwater is out of sight, and therefore out of mind,” he said. “Coral bleaching, mollusc depletion, habitat destruction — these crises unfold silently. By the time the impacts reach the shore, it is often too late.”
Seashells, in this context, become messengers. Changes in shell thickness, size and abundance, Dr. Fernando explained, can signal shifts in ocean chemistry, rising temperatures and increasing acidity — all linked to climate change. “Ocean acidification weakens shells,” he said. “It is a chemical reality with biological consequences. When shells grow thinner, organisms become more vulnerable, and ecosystems less stable.”
Climate change, he warned, is no longer a distant threat but an active force reshaping Sri Lanka’s marine environment. “We are already witnessing altered breeding cycles, migration patterns and species distribution,” he said. “Marine life is responding rapidly. The question is whether humans will respond wisely.”
Despite the gravity of these challenges, Dr. Fernando remains an advocate of hope rooted in knowledge. He believes public awareness and education are essential to reversing marine degradation. “You cannot expect people to protect what they do not understand,” he said. “Marine literacy must begin early — in schools, communities and through public storytelling.”
It is this belief that has driven his involvement in initiatives that use visual narratives to communicate marine science to broader audiences. According to Dr. Fernando, imagery, art and heritage-based storytelling can evoke emotional connections that data alone cannot. “A well-composed image of a shell can inspire curiosity,” he said. “Curiosity leads to respect, and respect to protection.”
Shells, he added, also hold cultural and historical significance in Sri Lanka, having been used for ornamentation, ritual objects and trade for centuries. “They connect nature and culture,” he said. “By celebrating shells, we are also honouring coastal communities whose lives have long been intertwined with the sea.”
However, Dr. Fernando cautioned against romanticising the ocean without acknowledging responsibility. “Celebration must go hand in hand with conservation,” he said. “Otherwise, we risk turning heritage into exploitation.”
He was particularly critical of unregulated shell collection and commercialisation. “What seems harmless — picking up shells — can have cumulative impacts,” he said. “When multiplied across thousands of visitors, it becomes extraction.”
As Sri Lanka continues to promote coastal tourism, Dr. Fernando emphasised the need for sustainability frameworks that prioritise ecosystem health. “Tourism must not come at the cost of the very environments it depends on,” he said. “Marine conservation is not anti-development; it is pro-future.”

Dr. Malik Fernando
Reflecting on his decades-long engagement with the sea, Dr. Fernando described marine conservation as both a scientific pursuit and a moral obligation. “The ocean has given us food, livelihoods, climate regulation and beauty,” he said. “Protecting it is not an act of charity; it is an act of responsibility.”
He called for stronger collaboration between scientists, policymakers, civil society and the private sector. “No single entity can safeguard the ocean alone,” he said. “Conservation requires collective stewardship.”
Yet, amid concern, Dr. Fernando expressed cautious optimism. “Sri Lanka still has immense marine wealth,” he said. “Our reefs, seagrass beds and coastal waters are resilient, if given a chance.”
Standing at the edge of the sea, shells scattered along the sand, one is reminded that the ocean does not shout its warnings. It leaves behind clues — delicate, enduring, easily overlooked. For Dr. Malik Fernando, those clues demand attention.
“The sea is constantly communicating,” he said. “In shells, in currents, in changing patterns of life. The real question is whether we, as a society, are finally prepared to listen — and to act before silence replaces the story.”
By Ifham Nizam
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Midweek Review6 days agoYear ends with the NPP govt. on the back foot
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Sports6 days agoLife after the armband for Asalanka
