Features

WARTIME IN SRI LANKA

Published

5 months ago

2025/07/27

CHAPTER 11

The wheels of the vehicles of war with which Nazism [was] halted came from the latex of rubber trees collected on thousands of rubber estates in Ceylon. The millions of cups of tea that cheered troops on freezing battlements [came from] our plantations… When we talk of aid to developing countries… let us… remember that small countries like Ceylon helped Britain, the United States… and Russia when they were most in need of aid.

(Oliver Goonetilleke, as quoted in Jeffries,1969, p.63)

NU and State-run Industries A more confident NU returned to Sri Lanka in December 1939. Already the only qualified economist in government service, he now had expertise in the new field of business administration, along with an enhanced worldview from his year abroad. His value as an officer in the government had vastly increased, and his career would soon reach a new launching point – in 1942 – when Sri Lanka was beginning to mobilize for war. Wartime called for the marshalling of clear thinkers and effective administrators, persons with good judgment, unafraid to take quick decisions amid crisis conditions. NU had all these qualities in full measure. His discipline and organizing capacity equipped him to deal with the challenges presented by wartime emergencies. During this period, NU would be called upon to fill several posts linked to wartime contingencies.

Upon his return from London, NU resumed his position as Commercial Assistant in the Department of Commerce and Industries, and continued in this post for another three years with greater responsibilities. The government had sent NU to London for training in business administration primarily because it wanted to give “a lead to private enterprise by starting certain state-aided concerns on commercial lines” (J.C.W. Rock, in N.U. Jayawardena Personal Files, emphasis added). This policy was given further impetus as wartime created shortages of materials and goods, especially those required for the shipping of exports.

NU was placed in charge of the Model Coir Yarn Factory, which was the first commercial factory established by the Department of Commerce and Industries. According to NU, this was the first occasion he had of applying the knowledge acquired from his training in London. As NU explained:

In the space of 2 months work, engaged mostly part-time, I was able to reorganize the factory, introduce an efficient system of production control, execute a successful sales programme, and convert the factory from a loss to a profit-earning basis. (N.U. Jayawardena Personal Files)

NU applied for the post of Assistant Director (Factories) in December 1943.( A job application in his Personal Files shows that NU applied for this post. However, he did not take it up. There are no records to show whether this was because he was not selected, or because he was selected and decided against taking up the post. ) After having observed at first hand the latest production techniques used in British factories, NU would have been eager to apply the management principles he had studied and witnessed abroad.

The responsibility of organizing the sales section of the Department of Commerce and Industries was also entrusted to NU. This section was established to market the Department-run factories’ products, which were sold through a sales outlet on Chatham Street, known as the Marketing Department. Products are still sold under the Marketing Department’s “MD” label, though the operation was privatized some time ago.

Although NU was involved in the running of the government’s first factory, and later in the marketing of goods produced by the various government-run factories, the experience demonstrated to him the pitfalls of state involvement in industry, stemming from political expediency as well as from leaving decision-making to inexperienced and impractical civil servants. Years later, he would draw on this experience on many occasions when stating his aversion to state enterprises. He had particularly sarcastic words for D.H. Balfour, the Ministry Secretary whom he termed as “an infectiously imaginative civil servant… [graduating] from Cambridge, specializing in Chemistry, and now turned industrial entrepreneur,” whom NU noted, “displayed enthusiasm but less business judgment.” Balfour had set up a cement factory in Kankesanturai, a chemical factory in Paranathan, a paper factory in Valachchenai, a plywood factory in Galle, a steel factory in the suburbs of Colombo and a ceramics factory in Negombo, and an ilmenite factory in the Eastern Province, some of which were in some state of survival even in the 1980s. NU further noted that many of the factories set up by the government were located in the electorates of influential politicians (de Zoysa manuscript, p. 12).

NU during this time also served as the editor of the Ceylon Trade Journal, published by the Department of Commerce and Industries based on the work of the Commercial Intelligence Department. His involvement in other areas began to branch out. In November 1940, he was appointed to serve as Secretary to the Ceylon Delegation at the Eastern War Materials Conference, which was held over the course of a month in New Delhi.

Lecturing at University

In 1941, NU at age 33, the self-taught student of economics, became the teacher, when he was appointed visiting lecturer for the diploma course in Economics at the University College, Colombo. He gave lectures on Sri Lankan trade, commerce, industry and transport. The professor of Economics at that time was B.B. Das Gupta under whom NU had served earlier on the Banking Commission in 1934. In spite of his busy schedule, NU would have readily welcomed this opportunity, which brought him into contact with the intellectual community.

NU would have no doubt taught many future academics and public servants of Sri Lanka. Das Gupta commented favourably on NU’s contribution as a lecturer, noting that NU’s “official work… kept him in constant touch with economic problems,” adding that he was “a wide reader and balanced thinker.” NU’s association with the university exposed him to a different milieu, where intellectual discourse and access to a library of scholarly books were some of the advantages. S.A. Pakeman, Professor of History and Economics and acting Principal of the University College at the time, praised NU’s lectures as “most stimulating and valuable” (N.U. Jayawardena Personal Files). NU would have felt some sense of achievement when, a few years later, he was requested by the University College of Ceylon to set and be co-examiner of the two question papers in Economics for entry into the prestigious Ceylon Civil Service – of which he was never a member.

It is hard to imagine where NU found the time and energy tofulfil his diverse responsibilities, such as organizing factories and sales sections, editing a journal, preparing lectures, setting papers on Economics, and teaching. The war years were a frantically busy and tense period with its recurring crises, when many demands would be made on NU’s expertise in a variety of areas.

Wartime Sri Lanka

World War II reached Asia’s doorstep in July 1941, when the Japanese entered the conflict, by launching a surprise attack on Pearl Harbour, Hawaii. The Japanese forces made speedy advances spreading their grip in every corner of Asia, including Indonesia, Malaysia, the Philippines, Burma (now Myanmar) and Singapore. After the fall of Singapore, it was inevitable that Sri Lanka, too, would soon be targeted by the Japanese.

In January 1942, Sri Lanka was put on a war footing, and Admiral Sir Geoffrey Layton was appointed Commander-in-Chief. A Civil Defence Department was also established. Oliver Ernest Goonetilleke (OEG), who had already established his credentials as Auditor General, was appointed Civil Defence Commissioner. Ivor Jennings, newly arrived on the island, served as OEG’s deputy.

The city and country had to be prepared for any contingency. Staff had to be quickly recruited, fire-fighting and emergency workers trained and equipped, and food provisions and distribution systems established. Fire gaps, wardens’ posts, trenches, shelters and water tanks were constructed; buildings protected by sandbags, and emergency kitchens and hospitals had to be set up to prepare the city in the event of bombing. An Air Raid Precautions (ARP) unit was formed to mobilize local leaders to act as wardens of civil defence. The department recruited 4,000 regular defence workers and 64,000 men and women part-time volunteers, who were “most of the more prominent leaders from Dondra Head to Point Pedro” (Jennings, 2005, p.126). Another task of the Civil Defence Department was to prevent the spreading of rumours and panic, and the leaking of information to the enemy. Posters reminding citizens that, “careless talk costs lives” were displayed throughout the city. Hoarding by black-marketeers was another serious problem of that period of shortages and rationing.

For those living in Colombo along and other parts of the country,there were many hardships, including food shortages, blackouts, and regular air-raid drills. Due to the shortage of rice, alternative forms of grain, such as bhajiri from India had to be imported and popularized. (A network of co-operative stores helped in the distribution of bhajiri and other rationed goods. The Communist Party, which supported the war effort, joined in supervising the distribution of food. Hedi Keuneman (Viennese wife of CP leader Pieter Keuneman) wrote: “I remember this as perhaps the most satisfying work I did because it made a genuine contribution to help the local population to get a fair supply of foodstuffs with their coupons.

Loading tea crates for shipment

The chief enemies were the blackmarketeers, and I remember arriving at our Co-op very early, long before opening time every morning, in order to prevent illegal black market dealings in food” (personal communication to K. Jayawardena, December 1990). One Sri Lankan recalled Hedi and Pieter Keuneman, surrounded by a crowd outside the main railway station of Colombo, when they were promoting alternative cereals to rice as a part of the war effort: It was not the usual pavement astrologer, musician or the snake-bite specialist, but a diminutive lady clad in a cheap cotton sari and… a tall young man in shirt and shorts. They were serving a steaming cereal to the people around them… I was simply thrilled and spent a considerable length of time watching the humanitarian drama.” (G. Nanayakkara, Sunday Island, 20 Jan. 1991) According to an eyewitness account of Hyacinth Mahendrarajah, who as a young girl lived through this time:

The cost of living rocketed sky-high. Food was scarce as no ships called at Colombo, which was normally an important port of call in the East. Ships were being bombed before they reached the various ports. This resulted

in a struggle to exist on a ‘meal a day’ that consisted mainly of yams and vegetables grown in the countryside.

The tension of imminent attack by the Japanese also created some anxiety, as Hyacinth further recounts:

At school they dug trenches for the children to go into, for protection during an air raid. We were given instructions on air raid precautions and whenever the siren sounded we had to observe them. These were carried out frequently to help us remember exactly what to do in the event of a genuine air raid. ( Mahendraraja, Hyacinth, Schoolgirl’s Memories in Ceylon, WW2 People’s War – An archive of World War II memories – public writings gathered by the BBC, entry contributed on 9 July 2004, http://www.bbc. co.uk/ww2peopleswar/categories/c54629/)

NU’s daughter Neiliya, who was a small child at that time, also recalls the air raid drills: “When the air raid sirens went off, both my brothers and myself had to run with our pillows to the dining room table under which our mats were laid” (Neiliya Perera, 2006).

The Japanese Attack on Sri Lanka

When the Japanese finally did attack Sri Lanka, the government was not caught completely off-guard – they had received advance notification that a fleet of Japanese ships was advancing southeast of Devundara, from a patrolling British pilot who had been able to radio news back to base before his plane was shot down. According to OEG’s account, the island was “wide open for attack” since “our own military resources were negligible… to meet an invasion” (Jeffries, 1969, p.58).

On Easter Sunday, 5 April 1942, the attack on Sri Lanka began. A fleet of Japanese aircraft raided Colombo, targeting the harbour and Ratmalana airport, followed by an attack on Trincomalee harbour. In both attacks, only a few ships were destroyed, and there were relatively few civilian casualties. ( In Colombo there had been 85 civilian casualties, about 50 of which were patients who were killed in the bombing of the Angoda Mental Hospital, which the Japanese had mistaken for a power station.

Two ships in the harbour – a destroyer and an armed merchant vessel – and two cruisers at sea were sunk. The harbour engineering workshops were severely damaged as well. One bomb fell in the Pettah on a Muslim hotel, completely destroying it. It opened a road in the Pettah known as “Oeeji’s Way” (Jeffries, 1969, pp.53- 54; and Jennings, 2005, p.130). In the Trincomalee attack, the HMS Hermes and two tankers were sunk, and the harbour installations and wharf were badly damaged (Jennings, 2005, p.132). The attack on Colombo, which was short but intense, turned the city into a ghost town overnight. Jennings described the panic:

As soon as the raid ended, a procession of cars… started moving out of Colombo by all the main roads… Those who had bullock carts piled up their baggage, packed in their families, (others carried) their worldly goods upon their heads. One-third of the population of Colombo left the city that day, some back to their villages but many knew not whither. (Jennings, 2005, p.131)

The evacuation caused more problems than the bombing. Apart from the serious shortage of food, there was a breakdown in distribution, as many shopkeepers had fled the city. Much of the local labour force necessary to carry out essential services, too, had disappeared. OEG managed to avert a crisis when he ordered the closed shops to be opened and “called out the whole staff of the Audit Department and put them to serve in boutiques” (ibid, p.131). NU, like many government servants, sent his family off to the countryside for a short period during this time, but himself stayed back in the city. His daughter Neiliya recalls being sent off to Koskandawela, a village in Gampaha, with her mother and two brothers, to live with a family who were known to her mother’s parents and that NU would visit them on weekends.

Accounts from this period reveal how close Sri Lanka came to being captured by the Japanese. It was a combination of luck and circumstances that saved Sri Lanka – Winston Churchill would later famously remark that the attack on Sri Lanka had been his “most

dangerous moment.” ( An account of the attack on Sri Lanka is given in a book entitled, Most Dangerous Moment: Japanese Assault on Ceylon, 1942, Mayflower (Sept. 1979), by Michael Tomlinson.) Although we know with hindsight that the Japanese had been halted in their advance and would not return to attempt further assaults on the island, at the time this was far from certain. ( Only 25 aircraft fighters were still serviceable the day after the attack on Sri Lanka, and only 4 were still

serviceable after the attack a few days later on Trincomalee (Jennings, 2005, p.133). Several fortunate circumstances averted disaster, including the fact that

the Japanese fleet did not have enough fuel to prolong the attack and had to return to Singapore for refuelling (Jeffries, p.58; and Jennings, 2005, pp.128-30).

The country would be kept on a war-footing for another three years until the Japanese were defeated in 1945. In spite of the threat of war, these were idyllic days for Neiliya

and her brothers. As she recalls:

It was here [Koskandawela] that we as children discovered the joys of fishing in streams, playing with calves, collecting eggs from chicken coops, playing with goats and their kids. Our whole life and activities centred around a mother who exposed us to all the beautiful things of the world. (Neiliya Perera, 2006)

Their stay in the village seems to have made a lasting impression on the children, for on returning to Colombo and their home in Police Park Avenue, “a single story beautiful colonial house with a large back and front garden,” Neiliya noted that:

The first thing my mother got us was a nanny goat for milk with three little kids and the three of us adopted one each. Then came a stream of animals thereafter – dogs which we had always had, two cows for milk, rabbits in numbers, a series of deer and even a baby bear and over the years we had parrots. One of the parrots called Polly would call out the names of her favourite people: ‘Nimal, Nanna’. The more exotic birds and animals belonged to my brother Nimal, who even today has as his hobby collecting

exotic birds and fish. (ibid)

On the other hand, these years when his young children were growing up were extremely busy ones for NU. Neiliya recounts an anecdote:

My father was as usual always busy at work. My mother was both father and mother… The story goes that my father worked so hard – seven days of the week, that he left home before my second brother Nimal was awake and came home after he was asleep. The most regular male visitor was the postman, and Nimal used to call the postman ‘Daddy.’ (ibid)

Oliver Goonetilleke

It was during wartime when, according to NU, he was “discovered” by Oliver Goonetilleke (OEG). It was upon OEG’s recommendation that he would be seconded to the Department of Commodity Purchase as Deputy Commissioner; and OEG was listed as a referee by NU on a job application in 1943.

OEG was one of the key figures in the colonial administrative service and also dominated the political scene during the war and post-war periods. NU was associated with him when OEG was Civil Defence and Food Commissioner, and would work closely with him as they both moved up the career ladder. There were many parallels in their lives. Oliver Goonetilleke, born in 1892, was the only son amongst the eight children of Alfred Ernest Goonetilleke, a postmaster from Kotte who was a Christian. OEG was educated at Wesley College, Colombo. Journeying by train, he walked to school from the station to save the tramcar fare of 5 cents, as his father was economically hard-pressed. Like NU, he took an external London University degree (BA), and also taught for a time at Wesley College. In 1924, OEG was Assistant Colonial Auditor, a post previously filled by British officials. In 1926 he did a postgraduate course at the London School of Economics, and in 1931 became the Colonial Auditor (renamed Auditor-General), an office he held for 11 years. As OEG’s biographer, Sir Charles Jeffries wrote:

The appointment was acclaimed as a new departure in policy and a new triumph for the Ceylonese people. The satisfaction was justified, for Goonetilleke’s promotion marked the beginning of the end of the traditional assumption that Ceylon, like other colonies, should be staffed, in the higher grades, from the general British Colonial Service. (Jeffries, 1969, p.38)

Although NU worked closely with OEG during the next several years, he would have disagreements with OEG regarding his policy on food subsidies – particularly rice subsidies. NU believed that these should have been gradually reduced following the war and warned OEG about the economic consequences of not doing so; political turmoil would end up being one of the results

(To be continued)

(Excerpted from N.U. JAYAWARDENA The first five decades)

By Kumari Jayawardena and Jennifer Moragoda ✍️

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Features

Wishes, Resolutions and Climate Change

Published

22 hours ago

2025/12/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

Exchanging greetings and resolving to do something positive in the coming year certainly create an uplifting atmosphere. Unfortunately, their effects wear off within the first couple of weeks, and most of the resolutions are forgotten for good. However, this time around, we must be different, because the nation is coming out of the most devastating natural disaster ever faced, the results of which will impact everyone for many years to come. Let us wish that we as a nation will have the courage and wisdom to resolve to do the right things that will make a difference in our lives now and prepare for the future. The truth is that future is going to be challenging for tropical islands like ours.

We must not have any doubts about global warming phenomenon and its impact on local weather patterns. Over its 4.5-billion-year history, the earth has experienced drastic climate changes, but it has settled into a somewhat moderate condition characterised by periods of glaciation and retreat over the last million years. Note that anatomically modern Homo sapiens have been around only for two to three hundred thousand years, and it is reasoned that this stable climate may have helped their civilisation. There have been five glaciation periods over the last five hundred thousand years, and these roughly hundred-thousand-year cycles are explained by the astronomical phenomenon known as the Milankovitch Cycle (the lows marked with stars in Figure 1). At present, the earth is in an inter glacial period and the next glaciation period will be in about eighty thousand years.

(See Figure 1. Glaciation Cycles)

During these cycles, the global mean temperature has changed by about 7-8 degrees Centigrade. In contrast to this natural variation, earth has been experiencing a rapid temperature increase over the past hundred years. There is ample scientific evidence from multiple sources that this is caused by the increase in carbon dioxide gas in the atmosphere, which has seen a 50% increase over the historical levels in just hundred years (Figure 2). Carbon dioxide is one of the greenhouse gases which traps heat from the sun and slows the natural cooling process of the earth. This increase of carbon dioxide is due to human activities: fossil fuel burning, industrial processes, deforestation, and agricultural practices. Ironically, those who suffer from the consequences did not contribute to these changes; those who did contribute are trying their best to convince the world that the temperature changes we see are natural, and nothing should be done. We must have no illusions that global warming is a human-caused phenomenon, and it has serious repercussions.

(See Figure 2. Global Temperature and Carbon Dioxide Levels)

Why should we care about global warming? Well, there are many reasons, but let us focus on earth’s water cycle. Middle schoolers know that water evaporates from the oceans, rises into the atmosphere where it cools, condenses, and falls back onto earth as rain or snow. When the oceans warm, the evaporation increases, and the warmer atmosphere can hold more water vapour. Water laden atmosphere results in severe and erratic weather. Ironically, water vapour is also a greenhouse gas, and this has a snowballing effect. The increased ocean temperature also disrupts ocean currents that influence the weather on land. The combined result is extreme and severe weather: violent storms and droughts depending on the geographic location. What is happening on the West coast of the USA is an example. The net result will be major departures from what is considered normal weather over millennia.

International organisations have been talking for 30 years about limiting global temperature increase to 1.5oC above pre-industrial levels by curtailing greenhouse gas emissions. But not much has been done and the temperature has risen by 1.2oC already. The challenge is that even if we can stop greenhouse gas emissions completely, right now, we have the problem of removing already existing 2,500 billion tons of carbon from the atmosphere, for which there are no practical solutions yet. Scientists worry about the consequences of runaway temperature increase and its effect on human life, which are many. It is not a doomsday prediction of life disappearing from earth, but a warning that life will be quite different from what humans are used to. All small tropical nations like ours are burdened with mitigating the consequences; in other words, get ready for more Ditwahs, do not wait for the twelve-day forecast.

Some opined that not enough warning was given regarding Ditwah; the truth is that the tools available for long-term prediction of the path or severity of a weather event (cyclone, typhoon, hurricane, tornado) are not perfect. There are multitude of rapidly changing factors contributing to the behavior of weather events. Meteorologists feed most up to date data to different computer models and try to identify the prediction with the highest probability. The multiple predictions for the same weather event are represented by what is known as spaghetti plots. Figure 3 shows the forecasted paths of a 2019 Atlantic hurricane five days ahead on the right and the actual path it followed on the left. While the long-term prediction of the path of a cyclone remains less accurate, its strength can vary within hours. There are several Indian ocean cyclones tracking sites online accessible to the public.

Figure 3. Forecasting vs Reality

There is no argument that short-term forecasts of this nature are valuable in saving lives and movable assets, but having long term plans in place to mitigate the effects of natural disasters is much more important than that. If a sizable section of the population must start over their lives from ground zero after every storm, how can a country economically develop?

The degree of our unpreparedness came to light during Ditwah disaster. It is not for lack of awareness; judging by the deluge of newspaper articles, blogs, vlogs, and speeches made, there is no shortage of knowledge and technical expertise to meet the challenge. The government has assured the necessary resources, and there is good reason to trust that the funds will be spent properly and not to line the pockets as happened during previous disasters. However, history tells us that despite the right conditions and good intentions, we could miss the opportunity again. Reasons for such skepticisms emerged during the few meetings the President held with the bureaucrats while visiting effected areas. Also, the COPE committee meetings plainly display the inherent inefficiencies and irregularities of our system and the absence of work ethics among all levels of the bureaucracy.

What it tells us is that we as a nation have an attitude problem. There are ample scholarly analyses by local as well as international researchers on this aspect of Sri Lankan psyche, and they label it as either island or colonial mentality. The first refers to the notion of isolated communities perceiving themselves as exceptional or superior to the rest of the world, and that the world is hell-bent on destroying or acquiring what they have. This attitude is exacerbated by the colonial mentality that promoted the divide and conquer rules and applied it to every societal characteristic imaginable; and plundered natural resources. As a result, now we are divided along ethnic, linguistic, religious, political, class, caste, geography, wealth, and many more real and imagined lines. Sadly, politicians, some religious leaders, and other opportunists keep inflaming these sentiments for their benefit when most of the population is willing to move on.

The first wish, therefore, is to get the strength, courage, and wisdom to think rationally, and discard outdated and outmoded belief systems that hinder our progress as a nation. May we get the courage to stop venerating elite who got there by exploiting the masses and the country’s wealth. More importantly, may we get the wisdom to educate the next generation to be free thinkers, give them the power and freedom to reject fabrications, myths, and beliefs that are not based on objective facts.

This necessitates altering our attitude towards many aspects of life. There is no doubt that free thinking does not come easily, it involves the proverbial ‘exterminating the consecrated bull.’ We are rightfully proud about our resplendent past. It is true that hydraulic engineering, art, and architecture flourished during the Anuradhapura period.

However, for one reason or another, we have lost those skills. Nowadays, all irrigation projects are done with foreign aid and assistance. The numerous replicas of the Avukana statue made with the help of modern technology, for example, cannot hold a candle to the real one. The fabled flying machine of Ravana is a figment of marvelous imagination of a skilled poet. Reality is that today we are a nation struggling with both natural and human-caused disasters, and dependent on the generosity of other nations, especially our gracious neighbor. Past glory is of little help in solving today’s problems.

Next comes national unity. Our society is so fragmented that no matter how beneficial a policy or an idea for the nation could be, some factions will oppose it, not based on facts, but by giving into propaganda created for selfish purposes. The island mentality is so pervasive, we fail to trust and respect fellow citizens, not to mention the government. The result is absence of long-term planning and stability. May we get the insight to separate policy from politics; to put nation first instead of our own little clan, or personal gains.

With increasing population and decreasing livable and arable land area, a national land management system becomes crucial. We must have an intelligent zoning system to prevent uncontrolled development. Should we allow building along waterways, on wetlands, and road easements? Should we not put the burden of risk on the risk takers using an insurance system instead of perpetual public aid programs? We have lost over 95% of the forest cover we had before European occupation. Forests function as water reservoirs that release rainwater gradually while reducing soil erosion and stabilizing land, unlike monocultures covering the hill country, the catchments of many rivers. Should we continue to allow uncontrolled encroachment of forests for tourism, religious, or industrial purposes, not to mention personal enjoyment of the elite? Is our use of land for agricultural purposes in keeping with changing global markets and local labor demands? Is haphazard subsistence farming viable? What would be the impact of sea level rising on waterways in low lying areas?

These are only a few aspects that future generations will have to grapple with in mitigating the consequences of worsening climate conditions. We cannot ignore the fact that weather patterns will be erratic and severe, and that will be the new normal. Survival under such conditions involves rational thinking, objective fact based planning, and systematic execution with long term nation interests in mind. That cannot be achieved with hanging onto outdated and outmoded beliefs, rituals, and traditions. Weather changes are not caused by divine interventions or planetary alignments as claimed by astrologers. Let us resolve to lay the foundation for bringing up the next generation that is capable of rational thinking and be different from their predecessors, in a better way.

by Geewananda Gunawardana

Features

From Diyabariya to Duberria: Lanka’s Forgotten Footprint in Global Science

Published

22 hours ago

2025/12/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

Snakes and their name origins in Sinhala

For centuries, Sri Lanka’s biological knowledge travelled the world — anonymously. Embedded deep within the pages of European natural history books, Sinhala words were copied, distorted and repurposed, eventually fossilising into Latinised scientific names of snakes, bats and crops found thousands of kilometres away.

Africa’s reptiles, Europe’s taxonomic catalogues and global field guides still carry those echoes, largely unnoticed and uncredited.

Now, a Sri Lankan herpetologist is tracing those forgotten linguistic footprints back to their source.

Through painstaking archival research into 17th- and 18th-century zoological texts, herpetologist and taxonomic researcher Sanjaya Bandara has uncovered compelling evidence that several globally recognised scientific names — long assumed to be derived from Greek or Latin — are in fact rooted in Sinhala vernacular terms used by villagers, farmers and hunters in pre-colonial Sri Lanka.

“Scientific names are not just labels. They are stories,” Bandara told The Island. “And in many cases, those stories begin right here in Sri Lanka.”

Sanjaya Bandara

At the heart of Bandara’s work is etymology — the study of word origins — a field that plays a crucial role in zoology and taxonomy.

While classical languages dominate scientific nomenclature, his findings reveal that Sinhala words were quietly embedded in the foundations of modern biological classification as early as the 1700s.

One of the most striking examples is Ahaetulla, the genus name for Asian vine snakes. “The word Ahaetulla is not Greek or Latin at all,” Bandara explained. “It comes directly from the Sinhala vernacular used by locals for the Green Vine Snake.” Remarkably, the term was adopted by Carl Linnaeus himself, the father of modern taxonomy.

Another example lies in the vespertilionid bat genus Kerivoula, described by British zoologist John Edward Gray. Bandara notes that the name is a combination of the Sinhala words kiri (milky) and voula (bat). Even the scientific name of finger millet, Eleusine coracana, carries linguistic traces of the Sinhala word kurakkan, a cereal cultivated in Sri Lanka for centuries.

Yet Bandara’s most intriguing discoveries extend far beyond the island — all the way to Africa and the Mediterranean.

In a research paper recently published in the journal Bionomina, Bandara presented evidence that two well-known snake genera, Duberria and Malpolon, both described in 1826 by Austrian zoologist Leopold Fitzinger, likely originated from Sinhala words.

The name Duberria first appeared in Robert Knox’s 1681 account of Ceylon, where Knox refers to harmless water snakes called “Duberria” by locals. According to Bandara, this was a mispronunciation of Diyabariya, the Sinhala term for water snakes.

“Mispronunciations are common in Knox’s writings,” Bandara said. “English authors of the time struggled with Sinhala phonetics, and distorted versions of local names entered European literature.”

Over time, these distortions became formalised. Today, Duberria refers to African slug-eating snakes — a genus geographically distant, yet linguistically tethered to Sri Lanka.

Bandara’s study also proposes the long-overdue designation of a type species for the genus, reviving a 222-year-old scientific name in the process.

Equally compelling is the case of Malpolon, the genus of Montpellier snakes found across North Africa, the Middle East and southern Europe. Bandara traced the word back to a 1693 work by English zoologist John Ray, which catalogued snakes from Dutch India — including Sri Lanka.

“The term Malpolon appears alongside Sinhala vernacular names,” Bandara noted. “It is highly likely derived from Mal Polonga, meaning ‘flowery viper’.” Even today, some Sri Lankan communities use Mal Polonga to describe patterned snakes such as the Russell’s Wolf Snake.

Bandara’s research further reveals Sinhala roots in the African Red-lipped Herald Snake (Crotaphopeltis hotamboeia), whose species name likely stems from Hothambaya, a regional Sinhala term for mongooses and palm civets.

“These findings collectively show that Sri Lanka was not just a source of specimens, but a source of knowledge,” Bandara said. “Early European naturalists relied heavily on local names, local guides and local ecological understanding.”

Perhaps the most frequently asked question Bandara encounters concerns the mighty Anaconda. While not a scientific name, the word itself is widely believed to be a corruption of the Sinhala Henakandaya, another snake name recorded in Ray’s listings of Sri Lankan reptiles.

“What is remarkable,” Bandara reflected, “is that these words travelled across continents, entered global usage, and remained there — often stripped of their original meanings.”

For Bandara, restoring those meanings is about more than taxonomy. It is about reclaiming Sri Lanka’s rightful place in the history of science.

“With this study, three more Sinhala words formally join scientific nomenclature,” he said.

“Who would have imagined that a Sinhala word would be used to name a snake in Africa?”

Long before biodiversity hotspots became buzzwords and conservation turned global, Sri Lanka’s language was already speaking through science — quietly, persistently, and across continents.

By Ifham Nizam

Features

Children first – even after a disaster

Published

22 hours ago

2025/12/29

Sahan Weerasooriya

However, the children and their needs may be forgotten after a disaster.

Do not forget that children will also experience fear and distress although they may not have the capacity to express their emotions verbally. It is essential to create child-friendly spaces that allow them to cope through play, draw, and engage in supportive activities that help them process their experiences in a healthy manner.

The Institute for Research & Development in Health & Social Care (IRD), Sri Lanka launched the campaign, titled “Children first,” after the 2004 Tsunami, based on the fundamental principle of not to medicalise the distress but help to normalise it.

The Island picture page

The IRD distributed drawing material and play material to children in makeshift shelters. Some children grabbed drawing material, but some took away play material. Those who choose drawing material, drew in different camps, remarkably similar pictures; “how the tidal wave came”.

“The Island” supported the campaign generously, realising the potential impact of it.

The campaign became a popular and effective public health intervention.

“A public health intervention (PHI) is any action, policy, or programme designed to improve health outcomes at the population level. These interventions focus on preventing disease, promoting health, and protecting communities from health threats. Unlike individual healthcare interventions (treating individuals), which target personal health issues, public health interventions address collective health challenges and aim to create healthier environments for all.”

The campaign attracted highest attention of state and politicians.

The IRD continued this intervention throughout the protracted war, and during COVID-19.

The IRD quick to relaunch the “children first” campaign which once again have received proper attention by the public.

While promoting a public health approach to handling the situation, we would also like to note that there will be a significant smaller percentage of children and adolescents will develop mental health disorders or a psychiatric diagnosis.

We would like to share the scientific evidence for that, revealed through; the islandwide school survey carried out by the IRD in 2007.

During the survey, it was found that the prevalence of emotional disorder was 2.7%, conduct disorder 5.8%, hyperactivity disorder was 0.6%, and 8.5% were identified as having other psychiatric disorders. Absenteeism was present in 26.8%. Overall, previous exposure to was significantly associated with absenteeism whereas exposure to conflict was not, although some specific conflict-related exposures were significant risk factors. Mental disorder was strongly associated with absenteeism but did not account for its association with tsunami or conflict exposure.

The authors concluded that exposure to traumatic events may have a detrimental effect on subsequent school attendance. This may give rise to perpetuating socioeconomic inequality and needs further research to inform policy and intervention.

Even though, this small but significant percentage of children with psychiatric disorders will need specialist interventions, psychological treatment more than medication. Some of these children may complain of abdominal pain and headaches or other physical symptoms for which doctors will not be able to find a diagnosable medical cause. They are called “medically unexplained symptoms” or “somatization” or “bodily distress disorder”.

Sri Lanka has only a handful of specialists in child and adolescent psychiatric disorders but have adult psychiatrists who have enough experience in supervising care for such needy children. Compared to tsunami, the numbers have gone higher from around 20 to over 100 psychiatrists.

Most importantly, children absent from schools will need more close attention by the education authorities.

In conclusion, going by the principles of research dissemination sciences, it is extremely important that the public, including teachers and others providing social care, should be aware that the impact of Cyclone Ditwah, which was followed by major floods and landslides, which is a complex emergency impact, will range from normal human emotional behavioural responses to psychiatric illnesses. We should be careful not to medicalise this normal distress.

It’s crucial to recall an important statement made by the World Health Organisation following the Tsunam

Prof. Sumapthipala MBBS, DFM, MD Family Medicine, FSLCFP (SL), FRCPsych, CCST (UK), PhD (Lon)]

Director, Institute for Research and Development in Health and Social Care, Sri Lanka

Emeritus Professor of Psychiatry, School of Medicine, Faculty of Medicine & Health Sciences, Keele University, UK

Emeritus Professor of Global Mental Health, Kings College London

Secretary General, International society for Twin Studies

Visiting Professor in Psychiatry and Biomedical Research at the Faculty of Medicine, Kotelawala Defence University, Sri Lanka

Associate Editor, British Journal Psychiatry

Co-editor Ceylon Medical Journal.

Prof. Athula Sumathipala