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Truth and Reconciliation Commission for Sri Lanka: Issues and challenges

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Minister Herath addressing the UNHRC. (File pic)

D. Phil. (Oxford), Ph. D. (Sri Lanka);

Rhodes Scholar, Quondam Visiting Fellow of the Universities of Oxford, Cambridge and London;

Former Vice-Chancellor and Emeritus Professor of Law of the University of Colombo.

I. The Domestic and International Setting

The establishment of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission is a matter of lively interest across our society at this time. Developments a few days ago at the international level make this issue immediately relevant to the national interest of Sri Lanka.

The Minister of Foreign Affairs, Mr. Vijitha Herath, in his address at the 58th Session of the Human Rights Commission in Geneva in February this year, expressed interest in “the contours of a strong truth and reconciliation framework” and committed his government to “strengthening the work” in this field.

Current preoccupation with this concept has both a domestic and an international impetus. Within the country, the overwhelming confidence placed by the people of the North and East, as part of an Islandwide avalanche, in the current National People Power administration, impels the Government to focus, as a matter of priority, on national healing and reconciliation.

Beyond our shores, the expectation is equally urgent. The United Nations Human Rights Council, over the last decade, has adopted no fewer than 6 Resolutions on Sri Lanka. The pivotal Resolution, co-sponsored by Sri Lanka in 2015, called for a Commission for Truth, Justice, Reconciliation and Non-Recurrence. Subsequent Resolutions, expressing concern over lack of progress and the need for international accountability, introduced a new – and potentially hazardous – dimension. This consisted of the creation of a uniquely intrusive mechanism to gather and analyse evidence relating to Sri Lanka as a launching pad for further action in international tribunals.

Against the backdrop of these initiatives, a series of legislative measures have been taken in Sri Lanka – principally the enactment of the Office of Missing Persons Act of 2016, the Office for Reparations Act of 2018 and the Office of National Unity and Reconciliation Act of 2024. However, a hiatus remains with regard to the overarching mechanism of a Truth and Reconciliation Commission.

In attempting to complete the edifice, it is natural that policy makers in Sri Lanka should seek to derive assistance from the experience of South Africa, the home of probably the best-known Commission of this kind in the world. Inadequately and superficially researched, the proposed Sri Lankan legislation, published in the Gazette of 29 December 2023, suffers by comparison with legislation in other countries: it is marred by glaring omissions, and reflects shallowness of understanding of the aspirations which undergird successful instruments of reconciliation in our time.

II. The South African Experience Compared

The overlapping and contrasting features of Sri Lankan and South African legislation warrant close analysis.

(a) Territorial Application

There is a crucial difference in this regard. The mandate in South Africa embraces the whole nation without qualification (Preamble and section 3 of Act No. 34 of 1995). By contrast, the proposed mandate in Sri Lanka is operative throughout the Island, but only where the atrocities in question “were caused in the course of, or reasonably connected to, or consequent to the conflict which took place in the Northern and Eastern Provinces during the period 1983 to 2009, or its aftermath” (section 12(i)).

This is a limitation which cannot but affect the completeness of the Commission’s work. For instance, among the Commission’s powers is that of applying to a Magistrate “to excavate sites of suspected graves or mass graves and to act as observers at such excavations or exhumations” (section 13 (2c)). This is relevant also to areas outside the Northern and Eastern Provinces, and curtailment of the Commission’s mandate detracts from the overall balance and value of its work.

(b) Structural Framework

The South African legislation envisages 3 Committees specifically established alongside the Commission – the Committee on Human Rights Violations, the Committee on Amnesty and the Committee on Reparation and Rehabilitation. Each of these Committees has a statutory mandate and function, the role of each being clearly defined in relation to the Commission.

The Sri Lankan Bill is much less precise and clear-cut.The corresponding provision empowers the Commission to appoint panels consisting of not less than 3 members, the members being assigned to panels by the Chairperson of the Commission (section 7(2)). Unlike in South Africa, there is no indication of either the number of panels, or the subject matter entrusted to each panel. A tighter conceptual scheme, with explicit definition of identity and scope, is desirable at this conjuncture.

(c) Reconciliation and the Judiciary

Investigation which the Commission in Sri Lanka is authorised to undertake encompasses a wide range of activity including “extrajudicial killings, assassinations and mass murders” (section 12(g)(i)), “acts of torture” (section 12(g)(ii)) and “abduction, hostage taking and enforced disappearances” (section 12(g)(iv)). These are grave crimes in respect of which proceedings are instituted before the regular courts. In this event, should judicial proceedings, of a civil or criminal nature, be suspended until conclusion of the Commission’s investigations, or vice versa, or should they take place concurrently?

This is a matter of obvious practical importance which receives detailed consideration in South Africa, but not at all in Sri Lanka. For instance, where the person seeking amnesty before the relevant Committee in South Africa has a civil action in court pending against him, he may request suppression of the proceedings pending disposal of the application before the Committee (section 19(6)). The court may, after hearing all relevant parties, accede to this request. Similarly, a criminal action may be postponed in consultation with the Attorney-General of the relevant Province. These provisions serve the salutary purpose of averting the risk of conflicting orders by the courts and a Committee of the Commission in simultaneous proceedings. The Sri Lankan Bill fails to make any provision against this unacceptable contingency.

(d) Protection and Compellability

Discovery of truth requires the compulsory attendance of witnesses and the production of evidence before the Commission or its delegate. There is a the equally critical need, in subsequent proceedings, to protect witnesses against incrimination by testimony obtained through compulsion. These are competing objectives which need to be reconciled equitably.

This is achieved by the South African legislation: a person will be compelled to answer or produce evidentiary material having the potential to incriminate him, only if the Commission is satisfied that this course of action is “reasonable, necessary and justifiable” (section 31(2)). Moreover, the vital proviso is attached that the incriminating answer or evidence is inadmissible in criminal proceedings against the person providing it. This is a satisfactory result.

The position in Sri Lanka is quite otherwise. There is provision for the Commission to summon any person or to procure material (section 13(t) and (u)). This exists side by side with provision empowering the Attorney-General “to institute criminal proceedings in respect of any offence based on material collected in the course of an investigation by the Commission” (section 16(2)). Vulnerability is enhanced by the removal of protection conferred by the Evidence Ordinance (section 13(y)). In stark contrast with the position in South Africa, there is singular absence of any provision against self-incrimination in Sri Lanka.

(e) Amnesty

The basic purpose of Truth and Reconciliation Commissions around the world is to enable victims to come to terms with a deeply scarred past and to face the future with dignity and self-assurance. This is the gist of the Greek concept of Katharsis, or purging of the soul. Through full and candid disclosure, involving unburdening and relief, comes the expiation of guilt.

This is the context in which the idea of amnesty occupies a central place in the scheme of reconciliation. The Committee on Amnesty is the centrepiece of South African legislation. The primacy of its function is underlined by the provision that “No decision, or the process of arriving at such a decision, of the Committee on Amnesty shall be reviewed by the

Commission” (section 5(e)). The status of this Committee is unique, standing as it does apart from, and indeed above, the other Committees. An application for amnesty succeeds in South Africa if there is genuine contrition manifested in complete disclosure of all relevant facts (section 20(i)).

Sri Lankan law takes an entirely different course. Although the proposed Bill postulates, as one of the main objectives of the Commission “providing the people of Sri Lanka with a platform for truth telling” (section 12(d)), no provision whatever is made for conferment of amnesty in consequence of uninhibited disclosure. At the core of the law, there is a policy contradiction, with practical implications.

III. Political Will

Apart from these infirmities, cumulatively worrying, there is a negative factor of far greater importance.

When the draft legislation in Sri Lanka was published in January 2024, the response was less than unreservedly enthusiastic. This was mainly because of lingering doubts about the strength of political will underpinning this initiative. By no means the initial overture, this was yet another step in a long and disheartening sequence of events. The Lessons Learnt and Reconciliation Commission, the Udalagama Commission and the Paranagama Commission represented together a sterile endeavour, for well over a decade, to address the salient issues. The Bill impliedly concedes this. What is of particular significance is the inclusion, in Part VIII of the Bill, of a set of provisions entitled “Implementation of the Commission’s Recommendations”. The key provision requires the setting up of a Monitoring Committee (section 39) consisting of the Secretaries of 5 Ministries and 6 others, to submit to the President every 6 months reports which “shall include the reasons for non-implementation” (section 40(9)) by relevant entities. This is hardly likely to engender a high threshold of confidence.

A critical component of political will is commitment to community participation. This was much in evidence in South Africa even before Nelson Mandela’s accession to the Presidency. In my academic career, during visits to the University of the Witwatersrand and the University of Cape Town on lecture tours, I observed at first hand, the sustained efforts by leaders of South African academia to convince the corporate sector that structural change is the preferable alternative to unbridled anarchy.

As Minister of Justice, Ethnic Affairs and National Integration in the Government of President Chandrika Kumaratunga, I interacted closely with my counterparts,Dullah Omar, Minister of Justice and Mandela’s personal lawyer and Valli Moosa, Minister of Constitutional Affairs, who even used pictorial images, rather than the printed word, to convey the central message of reconciliation to the vast mass of the people, especially in the rural hinterland. This was very much the wind beneath the wings, and supplied the thrust for intense community involvement.

IV. Role of an Icon

Rising above all these considerations is a circumstance which was brought home to me vividly during my participation, as Minister of Foreign Affairs, in the Commonwealth Summit in Kigali, Rwanda, in 2022. On the sidelines of this event, I had the benefit of a discussion with my South African counterpart, Ms. Naledi Pandor, at the time Minister of International Relations and Cooperation. She shared with me her perspective that, whatever the South African process accomplished, was in considerable measure attributable to the towering stature of Archbishop Desmond Tutu who enjoyed remarkable prestige across the nation. An emblematic figure as the visible symbol of the process is, therefore, vital, the ideal choice probably being a personality bereft of a prominent political profile. Qualities of leadership are, in practice, of even greater value than the structural characteristics of the Commission.

V. Restorative Justice

The abiding inspiration of reconciliation mechanisms arises from the idea of restorative, as opposed to retributive, justice; but this concept has intrinsic limits. In the South African case, pride of place was given to sincere truth telling which would overcome hatred and the primordial instinct for revenge. The vehicle for giving effect to this was amnesty. Not infrequently, however, this opportunity was spurned. Despite the personal intervention of Mandela, former State President P. W. Botha was adamant in his refusal to appear before the Commission which he denounced as “a fierce unforgiving assault” on Afrikaaners. This sentiment struck a compliant chord in many leaders of the security and military establishment under the apartheid regime. Among them were General Magnus Malan, former Minister of Defence, and General Johan van der Merwe, former Commissioner of the South African Police.

Contemptuous refusal to appear before the Commission led to criminal prosecution. Eugene de Kock, commander of a police death squad, was convicted on multiple counts of murder. An interesting case is that of Security Branch officer, Joao Rodrigues, who was charged with murder 47 years after the death of anti-apartheid activist, Ahmed Timol, in police custody. When repentance and amnesty failed, criminal responsibility took over.

At the heart of the discourse is interplay among the ideas of truth, justice and reconciliation. Search for the right balance is the perennial dilemma. The basic conflict is between amnesty and accountability. A legitimate criticism of the South African experience is that it tended, on occasion, to give disproportionate attention to the former at the expense of the latter. It did happen that grave crimes went unpunished, leaving victims, after the trauma of reliving the past, profoundly unfulfilled.

Diverse cultures offer an array of choices. In Argentina, the power to grant amnesty was withheld from the Commission. In Colombia, disclosure resulted not in total exoneration but in mitigation of sentence. In Chile, prosecutions were feasible only after a prolonged interval since the dismantling of Augusto Pinochet’s dictatorship. In Peru, individual sanctions were studiedly relegated to major economic and societal transformation in the wake of the ravaging conflict with Sendero Luminoso (Shining Path).

An eclectic approach, affording the fullest scope for selection and imaginative adaptation, is the way forward. There is no size that fits all.

By Professor G. L. Peiris



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Opinion

M. D. Banda: Memories of our Appachchi

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(The 112th Birth Anniversary M. D. Banda fell on March 09.)

My memories of Appachchi when I was very little are nebulous. Whilst this may be the case with all little children, even ones with fathers who have regular 9-5 jobs, in my case, this was due to two additional reasons: our Appachchi lived mostly at “Shravasthi” the special residence for Lankan parliamentarians and not at our ancestral home home, in our village, Panaliya.

Additionally, we were all at boarding schools and spent nine months of the year in our respective school hostels. Thus, it was just during the holidays that the seven of us (my four sisters, two brothers and I) were at home, in Panaliya.

Looking back on this time, I realise that during most of my childhood my father was a Cabinet Minister, and one who was completely dedicated to his duties. He was conscientious to a fault, attending to ministerial duties, attending parliamentary sittings and cabinet meetings diligently. Appachchi first entered Parliament in 1947 when he was just 29 years old, and

was almost immediately appointed to the post of Parliamentary Secretary (Junior Minister) to the Minister of Labour and Social Services in May 1948. He was Minister of Labour and Social Services in February in 1950 and was again appointed to the same post by Hon Dudley Senanayake in March 1952. He became Minister of Education in June 1952 so that by the time I was born in December 1952, he was a senior member of the Dudley Senanayake Cabinet. I only fully realised how busy he must have been much later in life. As young children, it is our mother who gave us love and a sense of security by being fully present in our lives and seeing to all our needs, even when we were in school hostels.

Pivotal points

Our mother informed us one day, when I was around 3 or 4 years old , that Appachchi would be coming home that evening. Although my memories of this period are quite hazy, I recall very clearly the keen enthusiasm with which we awaited his arrival. Evening moved into night and his arrival was pushed back late and further late into the night. The moment I woke up the next morning I remember asking Amma where Appachchi was. “He came home very late last night but had to leave early this morning. He was a little annoyed with you, Lokka (everyone in the family calls me ‘Lokka’ even now), because you had parked your little car near the stairway, and Appachchi nearly tripped over it’ (this was before we had electricity in our home). My little heart was overwhelmed with sorrow for not only had I not seen Appachchi but I had inadvertently caused him injury with my careless parking of my miniature car.

This incident is indelibly etched in my mind because I believe that this was the first time in my life, that I experienced the agony of shattered expectations. Why I felt such intense pain then as a little child was perhaps because of how much I loved my father.

I was admitted to Hillwood College, Kandy at the age of three and a half and lived in the school hostel for three years. I clearly remember Amma visiting us at least once or twice a month with goodies and treats for us and our friends. I do not however have any clear memory of Appachchi visiting us during this time. At the time I didn’t realise that this was due to the busy life he led. At Hillwood, I had all the love and attention I needed from my four older sisters and my four older cousin sisters (our Lokuamma’s daughters).

My younger brother Senaka and I then entered Dharmaraja College, Kandy in 1961 . We were hostelers and attended school from the hostel. I clearly remember Amma visiting us regularly during this period too. I had my first real and meaningful conversation with Appachchi during this time: One day, our warden Mr Wimalachandra informed me that appachchi had come to take Senaka mallie and me out. We visited a relative of ours in Harispattuwa, had lunch with them and on our return journey to the school hostel, I told appachchi that I was playing cricket for the under 12 team at Dharmaraja College, and therefore needed a bat.

“Are you playing hardball?”

(I didn’t understand the question so I was silent)

“Is it the red ball?”

“Ah, yes.”

“Is it that kind of bat that you need?”

“Yes.”

“What is your position in the team?”

(I was once again silent)

“Are you an opening batsman? Or are you number 3, 4 or 5?”

“I can bat and bowl. I do both”

“Ah! Then you are an all-rounder. Number 6,7 – I will buy you this kind of bat. Play well till then.”

And the conversation continued in the vein but no bat has come to date!!!

Little did I know at the time that Appachchi was himself an outstanding cricketer, who represented the St Anthony’s College.Katugastota team and, later, for the Ceylon University College team, as an opening batsman. This is why he was so well versed with the game and was highly interested in my own cricketing capabilities. His passion for cricket was clear to us later on too because we all recall how he and his nephews, Bertie and Nimal, would listen to cricket commentaries and were glued to the radio when England and Australia played biennially for the famous Ashes trophy.

On the day of this momentous conversation, Bertie aiya (appachchi’s long-time Private Secretary, and his sister’s son; a lawyer by profession) had also come with Appachchi. It is from Bertie aiya that I learnt that day that the car they had driven up to Kandy in (an Austin A 70) belonged to Appachchi. I later learnt that Appachchi had not one but two cars (a Fiat 1400 too). Both cars were driven by Ranbanda, the chauffer, and were in Colombo because there was no one who could drive them at Panaliya. Amma always hired a car for her personal use at Panaliya, and would visit us in school in these hired cars, until her youngest brother Tissa came to live in our home at Panaliya. Tissa maama then drove amma around and would very often drive us to our school hostels. Another rather amusing memory from this same time goes like this: during a school holiday when I was in grade 6 at Dharmaraja College, Appachchi asked for my report card. I was 6 th

in class and therefore promptly and proudly took it to him. Appachchi scrutinised my report card carefully and said, not unkindly, ‘If you are 6 th in class with marks like this, all the other children in your class must be buffaloes’.

A shift in gears

I think I really got to know Appachchi well when Senaka malli and I entered Ananda College in Colombo. Although we first went to school from the school hostel, we would go to Appachchi’s official residence at Wijerama Mawatha every weekend. By this time, Amma too had moved to Colombo. Thus, between 1965 – 1970 , our home was at Wijerama Mawatha, with them. So, that is when I got the chance to interact closely with Appachchi. It was only at this time that it dawned on me that Appachchi was a powerful Cabinet Minister who was loved and respected by his constituents and the people of our country.

During this time, when I needed anything, I would go to his room early in the morning to remind him of what I needed. These requests were for the most part fulfilled.

Once I remember that I asked for track shoes (spikes) and Appachchi bought me a pair from abroad. When I needed money to buy a Tennis racket, he told me to go to the sports-ware store, ‘Chands’ at Chatham Street and select a racket. I received top treatment there and was even offered orange barley!

Then again I urgently needed ‘longs’ (trousers) to wear to school. “How many do you need?” he asked. Without thinking I said, “six”. “Why six?” he demanded. “There are only 5 days in the school week, no? Three would do.” Then he directed me to the ‘West End’ tailors’ shop in Pettah and asked me to get them stitched there.

It was Appachchi’s habit to take us to the Lake House Book shop every year and allow us to buy whatever we wanted. Considering that there were 7 of us, Senaka Malli and I chose just three or four books and took them to the counter, while our Chuti Malli Senerath, would bring a pile of books! “Do you want all these books?” Appachchi asked. Chuti Malli nodded “yes” and Appachchi bought all of them for him! This was probably because Appachchi himself loved books and wished to encourage the reading habit in his children.

When apachchi passed away in 1974, Senerath Malli was only 14 years old and I believe that the loss was greatest for him.

(To be concluded)

Loku Putha,

Gamini Leeniyagolla

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Opinion

Social and Biological Landscape of Kidney Disease in Sri Lanka

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World Kidney Day falls today

The Chronic Kidney Disease (CKD) crisis in Sri Lanka represents one of the most formidable public health challenges of the twenty-first century, manifesting as a complex tapestry of environmental, social, and physiological factors. Unlike the traditional forms of kidney disease seen in urban centres—which typically stem from well-understood comorbidities like long-term diabetes and hypertension—the situation in the Sri Lankan ‘Dry Zone’ is defined by a mysterious and aggressive variant known as Chronic Kidney Disease of unknown aetiology (CKDu). This specific form of the disease has devastated the agricultural heartlands, particularly the North Central Province, for over three decades, yet it continues to evolve in its geographic reach and its socio-economic impact as of 2026. The persistence of this epidemic despite extensive international research highlights a profound gap in our understanding of how tropical environments and traditional occupational hazards intersect to damage human renal systems.

Historically, the emergence of CKDu was first noted in the late 1990s around the Anuradhapura and Polonnaruwa districts. What began as sporadic cases in rural hospitals quickly transformed into a localized epidemic, catching the medical community off guard because the patients did not present with the usual risk factors. These were not the sedentary, elderly populations usually associated with renal failure; rather, they were lean, active, middle-aged rice farmers.

The demographic specificity of the disease remains a chilling hallmark of the crisis today. It predominantly strikes men during their peak productive years, which triggers a catastrophic ripple effect through the family unit. When a primary breadwinner in a subsistence farming household falls ill, the family is thrust into a ‘poverty trap’ where limited resources are redirected toward transport to distant clinics, expensive nutritional supplements, and eventually, the gruelling routine of dialysis. This economic erosion often forces children out of school and into labour, perpetuating a cycle of systemic vulnerability that lasts for generations.

Intense scientific debate

The aetiology of the disease remains a subject of intense scientific debate and is currently viewed through a multifactorial lens. Researchers have moved away from the search for a single ‘smoking gun’ and are instead examining a lethal synergy of environmental triggers. Groundwater quality remains at the forefront of this investigation. The dry zone of Sri Lanka is characterized by high levels of fluoride and groundwater hardness, and it is theorized that the interaction between these natural minerals and anthropogenic pollutants—such as heavy metals from agrochemicals—creates a nephrotoxic cocktail.

The historical reliance on chemical fertilizers and pesticides in the ‘Green Revolution’ era of Sri Lankan agriculture is often cited as a major contributing factor. While direct links to specific brands of pesticides have been difficult to prove definitively, the accumulation of cadmium, arsenic, and lead in the soil and food chain continues to be monitored as a primary catalyst for the slow, progressive scarring of the kidney tubules.

In recent years, the discourse around CKDu has expanded to include the role of heat stress and chronic dehydration, exacerbated by the changing climate. Farmers in the North Central and Eastern provinces work long hours under an unforgiving sun, often without access to adequate quantities of clean drinking water.

There is growing evidence that repeated episodes of acute kidney injury caused by dehydration can lead to the permanent interstitial fibrosis characteristic of CKDu. This theory connects the Sri Lankan experience with similar ‘Mesoamerican Nephropathy’ seen among sugarcane workers in Central America, suggesting that CKDu may be a global phenomenon tied to the physical realities of manual labour in warming tropical climates. As global temperatures rise, the ‘heat stress’ hypothesis gains more urgency, positioning the Sri Lankan crisis not just as a local medical mystery, but as an early warning sign of how climate change impacts the health of the global agrarian workforce.

Geographical expansion of disease

The geographic expansion of the disease is a significant concern for the Ministry of Health in 2026. While Anuradhapura remains the epicentre, new ‘hotspots’ have been identified in the Uva and Northwestern provinces, as well as parts of the Southern hinterlands. This spread suggests that the environmental or behavioural triggers are more widespread than previously thought or that the migration of labour and changing agricultural practices are carrying the risk factors into new territories. The government has responded by shifting its strategy toward a more decentralized model of care. The establishment of the Specialized Nephrology Hospital in Polonnaruwa was a landmark achievement, providing state-of-the-art facilities for transplantation and dialysis. However, the sheer volume of patients means that the burden on tertiary care centres remains unsustainable. Consequently, the focus has shifted toward early detection through mobile screening units and the empowerment of primary healthcare centres to manage the early stages of the disease through aggressive blood pressure control and dietary management.

Water Security

Water security has become the primary defensive strategy in the national fight against CKDu. The widespread installation of Reverse Osmosis (RO) plants across high-risk villages has been a transformative community-led intervention. These plants provide filtered water that is significantly lower in mineral content and potential toxins compared to traditional shallow wells. While the long-term efficacy of RO water in preventing new cases is still being evaluated through longitudinal studies, there is strong anecdotal and preliminary evidence suggesting a decline in the rate of new diagnoses in villages that have had consistent access to filtered water for over a decade.

However, the maintenance of these plants remains a challenge, as rural communities often lack the technical expertise or the consistent funding required to replace membranes and ensure the water remains safe for consumption over the long term.

Beyond the biological and environmental dimensions, the CKD situation in Sri Lanka is deeply tied to the social fabric and the psychological well-being of the rural population. There is a profound stigma attached to the disease; in some areas, families hide a diagnosis for fear that it will affect the marriage prospects of their children or lead to social isolation.

This fear often drives patients toward traditional healers or unregulated ‘cures,’ which can sometimes exacerbate kidney damage through the use of heavy-metal-rich herbal preparations. Addressing the ‘fear factor’ through community education and the normalization of regular screening is as essential as any medical treatment. Furthermore, the mental health of caregivers—often women who must balance farming, household duties, and the intensive care of a bedridden relative—is a neglected aspect of the crisis that requires urgent policy attention.

Need for paradigm shift

As we look toward the future, the resolution of the CKD crisis in Sri Lanka will require a paradigm shift in how the state manages its agricultural and environmental resources. The transition toward organic or ‘low input’ farming is being discussed not just as an ecological goal, but as a public health necessity to reduce the chemical load on the soil and water. Simultaneously, the push for universal access to pipe-borne water is the only permanent solution to the groundwater problem. The current situation in 2026 is one of cautious optimism tempered by the reality of a massive existing patient load. While the ‘mystery’ of CKDu may never be reduced to a single cause, the integrated approach of clean water, early detection, and social support offers a roadmap for mitigating the impact of this devastating epidemic.

The resilience of the Sri Lankan farming communities, supported by robust scientific research and empathetic governance, remains the greatest asset in overcoming a disease that has for too long defined the landscape of the Dry Zone.

The Northwestern Province of Sri Lanka, particularly within the districts of Kurunegala and Puttalam, has emerged as a critical front in the national battle against chronic kidney disease. Unlike the early epicentre in the North Central Province, the Northwestern region faced a delayed but rapid surge in cases, largely attributed to its unique hydro-geochemical profile.

The groundwater in areas such as Polpithigama and Nikaweratiya is characterized by high levels of calcium and magnesium, leading to extreme water hardness that, when coupled with fluoride, has been statistically linked to accelerated renal damage. As of 2026, the strategy for this province has shifted from reactive medical treatment to a massive expansion of safe drinking water infrastructure, reflecting a policy acknowledgment that the quality of the ‘input’ into the human body is the single most controllable variable in the CKD epidemic.

Clean water projects

Central to this effort is the National Water Supply and Drainage Board’s Regional Support Centre for the North-Western Province, which has accelerated its goal of achieving near-universal pipe-borne water coverage. A primary focus has been the Anamaduwa Integrated Water Supply Project, a multi-billion-rupee initiative designed to serve over 80,000 residents across the most vulnerable divisions. By transitioning communities away from shallow, untreated agricultural wells and toward centralized, treated surface water systems, the project aims to bypass the nephrotoxic minerals inherent in the local bedrock. This shift is not merely a matter of convenience; it is a life-saving intervention. Early longitudinal data from 2024 and 2025 suggests that in villages where pipe-borne water has replaced groundwater as the primary source for over five years, the rate of new Stage 1 CKDu diagnoses has begun to plateau, providing the first tangible evidence that infrastructure development can decouple agricultural livelihoods from the risk of kidney failure.

Reverse Osmosis Water Supply Wells and The Reduction of Incidence of CKDu in the North central Province (Source: Kidney disease, health, and commodification of drinking water: An anthropological inquiry into the introduction of reverse osmosis water in the North Central Province of Sri Lanka by de Silva and Albert 2021)

Indispensability of RO plants

While large-scale projects provide a long-term solution, the ‘interim’ role of community-based Reverse Osmosis (RO) plants remains indispensable in the Northwestern hinterlands. These plants, often managed by local community-based organizations (CBOs) with technical oversight from the government, serve as the primary defence for remote settlements that the pipe-borne network has yet to reach. The operational success of these RO plants is increasingly tied to a new model of ‘Water Safety Trust.’

Surveys conducted in 2025 indicate that the reduction of CKD in these areas depends heavily on consistent maintenance; when filters are changed regularly and brine disposal is managed correctly, the resulting ‘soft’ water significantly reduces the metabolic stress on the kidneys of the local farming population. However, the province still faces the challenge of ‘water commodification,’ where the cost of filtered water can occasionally burden the poorest families, highlighting the need for continued state subsidies to ensure that clean water remains a universal right rather than a luxury.

The reduction of CKD in the Northwestern Province is also being driven by a more sophisticated integration of water management and occupational health. Recent initiatives have begun to combine the provision of clean water with ‘cool zones’ and hydration advocacy for farmers working in the intensive heat of the dry zone. There is an increasing understanding that it is not just the quality of water that matters, but the quantity and timing of consumption to prevent the sub-clinical acute kidney injuries that precede chronic failure. By 2026, the regional health authorities have integrated water quality testing with mobile renal screening,

creating a data-driven approach where water projects are prioritized for ‘red-zone’ villages showing the highest incidence of early-stage disease. This holistic strategy marks a transition from viewing CKD as a medical mystery to treating it as a manageable environmental health hazard, with the Northwestern Province serving as a vital testing ground for these integrated interventions.

Biochemical landscape

The biochemical landscape of the Northwestern Province’s water crisis is defined by a sophisticated and lethal interaction between naturally occurring minerals and the human renal system. At the molecular level, the primary concern is the synergistic effect of fluoride ions and water hardness, which is predominantly caused by high concentrations of calcium and magnesium cations. While fluoride is often discussed in isolation, recent research in 2025 and 2026 emphasizes that its toxicity is profoundly amplified when it enters the body through ‘very hard’ water (typically exceeding 180 mg/L of calcium carbonate). When these ions meet in the slightly alkaline environment of the kidney’s proximal tubules, they can form insoluble nanocrystals of calcium fluoride or fluorapatite. These microscopic precipitates act as physical irritants, causing mechanical clogging and chronic inflammation of the delicate tubular basement membranes, eventually leading to the interstitial fibrosis that characterizes CKDu.

Furthermore, the ‘Northwestern profile’ of groundwater often includes the presence of glyphosate—a common herbicide—which scientists now believe acts as a carrier or ‘chelating agent.’ Glyphosate has the chemical ability to bind with calcium and magnesium ions in hard water, forming stable complexes that may protect the toxic elements from being filtered out by the body’s natural defences, allowing them to reach the kidneys in higher concentrations. This ‘Trojan Horse’ mechanism suggests that the disease is not caused by a single pollutant, but by a geochemical cocktail where the hardness of the water essentially ‘primes’ the body to be more susceptible to other environmental toxins. Interestingly, some studies have noted that magnesium-rich water may actually offer a slight protective effect compared to calcium-dominant water, suggesting that the specific ratio of minerals in a village’s well could determine its status as a ‘hotspot’ or a safe zone.

To combat these complex interactions, the maintenance of Reverse Osmosis (RO) plants has become a cornerstone of rural health policy, though it remains fraught with logistical challenges. As of 2026, the Ministry of Health has moved toward a ‘Uniform Regulation and Training’ model to address the high variability in water quality produced by community-managed plants. Without precise maintenance, RO membranes can become ‘fouled’ by the very minerals they are designed to remove, leading to a precipitous drop in filtration efficiency. Policy experts now advocate for a ‘Public-Private-Community Partnership’ where the government provides the technical sensors and remote monitoring technology, while local organizations handle day-to-day operations. This ensures that the Total Dissolved Solids (TDS) levels remain consistently below the 30-ppm threshold required to effectively ‘reset’ the mineral balance for residents who have spent decades consuming the region’s hazardous groundwater.

Fruitful environmental intervention

Ultimately, the reduction of CKD in the Northwestern Province is a testament to the power of targeted environmental intervention. By treating the water supply as a biological variable rather than just a utility, Sri Lanka is creating a global blueprint for managing ‘geogenic’ diseases. The transition from the ‘shallow regolith aquifers’—which are highly susceptible to both natural mineral leaching and agricultural runoff—to deeper, treated surface water sources represents the most significant shift in the province’s public health history. As these infrastructure projects reach completion, the hope is that the next generation of farmers in Kurunegala and Puttalam will be the first in decades to work their land without the looming shadow of a silent, water-borne epidemic.

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U.S. foreign policy double standards and Iran’s Iron theocracy

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The world’s most theatrical stage

Welcome to the Grand Circus

If global geopolitics were a TV show, it would be cancelled after the first season for being too unbelievable. Consider the plot: the world’s largest arms exporter lectures others about peace; a government that executed over 500 people in a single year tells its citizens it governs by divine law; and international bodies created to enforce rules seem to apply those rules with remarkable … flexibility. Welcome to the real world of international relations, where the rules are made up and the principles don’t matter.

This analysis examines two of the most consequential actors shaping global instability today: the United States of America, a democracy that can’t quite decide whether it believes in democracy, and the Islamic Republic of Iran, a theocracy that has perfected the art of punishing its own people for simply existing.

Episode I: The United States, ‘Do as I Say, Not as I Do’

The Democracy Export Business

The United States has, for decades, positioned itself as the global guardian of democracy, freedom, and human rights. It is a noble brand. The marketing budget alone, in the form of military expenditure at $886 billion in 2023, is staggering. And yet, the product being sold and the product being delivered have often been … different things.

The CIA-backed coup of 1953, codenamed Operation Ajax, removed Iran’s democratically elected Prime Minister Mohammad Mosaddegh and reinstated the autocratic Shah Mohammad Reza Pahlavi, primarily to protect Anglo-American oil interests.

Nuclear Exceptionalism: The World’s Worst-Kept Secret

The United States currently holds approximately 5,044–5,177 nuclear warheads (depending on the source and year), while Russia being the largest with a stockpile estimated at approximately 5,580 warheads. yet it leads international campaigns demanding that other nations not develop nuclear weapons. This is a bit like the world’s most heavily armed person standing at the door of a gun shop, telling customers they cannot purchase firearms.

Furthermore, Israel is widely believed to possess 80–90 nuclear warheads. The United States has never imposed sanctions on Israel for this. India and Pakistan, both outside the NPT, were rewarded with nuclear cooperation deals after the tested nuclear weapons.

The Saudi Arabia Paradox

Perhaps, no relationship illustrates U.S. foreign policy hypocrisy more vividly than Washington’s alliance with Saudi Arabia. The Kingdom is an absolute monarchy with no elections, no free press, where women were legally barred from driving until 2018, and where the murder of journalist Jamal Khashoggi, carried out, according to U.S. intelligence, on orders from Crown Prince Mohammed bin Salman, resulted in … arms sales continuing and diplomatic ties intact.

The United States sold Saudi Arabia over $37 billion in arms between 2015 and 2020, weapons used in a Yemen war that the United Nations described as one of the world’s worst humanitarian catastrophes. Yet the U.S. simultaneously held press conferences about human rights. The cognitive dissonance is not a bug. It is the feature.

Iraq: The Weapons of Mass Distraction

In 2003, the United States invaded Iraq on the basis of alleged weapons of mass destruction (WMD) that did not exist. The invasion resulted in an estimated 150,000–1,000,000 Iraqi civilian deaths depending on methodology, the displacement of millions, the destabilization of an entire region, and the rise of the Islamic State, none of which appeared in the original brochure. The officials responsible for this foreign policy catastrophe faced no international tribunal. No sanctions were imposed on the United States. Several architects of the war are today respected media commentators.

Meanwhile, the International Criminal Court (ICC), an institution the United States has never ratified, is expected to hold others to account for far lesser offenses. As of 2024, the U.S. has actively sanctioned ICC officials who attempted to investigate American personnel for potential war crimes in Afghanistan.

Episode II: Iran, The People’s Nightmare

Iran’s political system is built on the concept of Velayat-e Faqih, the Guardianship of the Islamic Jurist, a political-theological doctrine holding that a senior Islamic cleric should govern society. In practice, this means that Supreme Leader Ali Khamenei, unelected by the general public, holds veto power over all branches of government, controls the military, the judiciary, state media, and the powerful Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps (IRGC).

The elected president, whether ‘moderate’ or ‘hardliner’, operates within a system where real power resides with the Supreme Leader and an unelected Guardian Council that vets all candidates and can disqualify anyone it deems insufficiently Islamic. In the 2021 presidential election, the Guardian Council disqualified over 590 candidates out of 592 who applied. The word ‘election’ is being used loosely here.

Women’s Rights: A Systematic Dismantling

Since the 1979 Islamic Revolution, Iranian women have endured one of the most comprehensive rollbacks of rights in modern history. Within weeks of the revolution, mandatory hijab laws were imposed, women were barred from serving as judges, and the minimum marriage age for girls was reduced to 9 years (later revised to 13 in 1982). This was not incidental policy; it was ideological architecture.

Today, Iranian women face legal discrimination across virtually every domain. Under the Iranian Civil Code, a woman’s testimony in court counts as half that of a man’s. Women cannot travel abroad without the written permission of their husband or male guardian. Married women cannot work without spousal consent in many circumstances. The diyeh (blood money) for a woman’s life is legally valued at half that of a man.

In September 2022, 22-year-old Mahsa (Zhina) Amini died in the custody of Iran’s Morality Police, after being arrested for allegedly wearing her hijab improperly. Her death triggered the Woman, Life, Freedom uprising, one of the largest protest movements in Iranian history. The government’s response was to kill over 500 protesters, arrest more than 19,000, and execute at least four people in connection with the protests by early 2023.

The IRGC and State-Sponsored Repression

The Islamic Revolutionary Guard Corps is a military-economic-political entity unlike any other in the region. It controls an estimated 20–40% of Iran’s economy through businesses, construction contracts, and import monopolies. It commands proxy militias across Iraq, Syria, Lebanon, and Yemen. And it suppresses domestic dissent with a ruthlessness that has drawn consistent condemnation from United Nations human rights bodies.

Amnesty International’s 2022-2023 annual report documented the IRGC and security forces using live ammunition, birdshot, and metal pellets against protesters, deliberately targeting eyes, resulting in hundreds being blinded. The UN Special Rapporteur on Iran documented ‘serious, widespread and systematic human rights violations’ constituting potential crimes against humanity.

Episode III: Where the Two Hypocrisies Meet

The relationship between the United States and Iran is, in many ways, a story of two entities who deserve each other in the sense that the behavUior of each government has fed the domestic narrative of the other for decades.

Washington uses Iran as justification for its military presence in the Gulf, its arms sales to autocratic Gulf states, and its general posture as indispensable regional hegemon. Tehran uses American hostility and sanctions as justification for economic failure, political repression, and nuclear advancement. Both governments’ hard-liners need each other to remain in power.

The Iranian people, 85 million of them, majority under 35, highly educated, and overwhelmingly wanting engagement with the world, are trapped between a government that treats them as subjects and an international sanctions regime that punishes them for their government’s choices. The American people, meanwhile, continue paying for a foreign policy architecture that serves arms manufacturers, defense contractors, and geopolitical abstractions more than it serves democratic values or human security.

Some Uncomfortable Truths

The United States is not the villain of every story, nor is Iran irredeemably authoritarian in the hearts of its people. What is consistent, and what this analysis has documented, is that both governments operate by standards they refuse to apply to themselves.

Tehran’s theocratic governance has failed its population economically, politically, and most visibly in its treatment of women and dissidents. The Woman, Life, Freedom movement showed the world what Iranian society wants. The government’s violent response showed the world what the Islamic Republic fears.

The lesson, uncomfortable as it is, is that powerful states, whether wielding aircraft carriers or theology, tend to exempt themselves from the rules they want others to follow. The only antidote is an informed public that refuses to accept these double standards as the natural order of things. Read critically. Follow the money. And remember: when a government tells you it acts in the name of God or democracy.

(The writer, a senior Chartered Accountant and professional banker, is Professor at SLIIT, Malabe. The views and opinions expressed in this article are personal.)

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