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When grit prevails over disability

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Wheelchair tennis 

His life didn’t flash before his eyes when the mine exploded under his feet. The only thought that crossed his mind was a sense of regret at his tour of duty coming to an abrupt end while his work was left undone. It was the year 2008 and in another year the war would be over. However, Lasantha Ranaweera didn’t know that. He was in the thick of it, having turned down multiple training opportunities so he could witness the end of the war. But while returning to base in Periyamadu, in the wee hours of May 18, 2008, which happened to be Vesak Poya day, he stepped on the mine. His leg was amputated, but it didn’t snuff out his spirit. Ranaweera went on to become a wheelchair tennis pro. This is his story and that of his comrades.

By Sajitha Prematunge

Pics by Kamal Wanniarachchi

When Jagath Welikala went to the airport on the request of Sri Lanka Tennis Association, presumably to pick up a tennis player, a Brit lugging a wheelchair, instead of a tennis racket, was the last thing the veteran tennis coach expected. Englishman Mark Bullock arrived in Sri Lanka in 2002 to introduce a special kind of sport; wheelchair tennis.

The programme kicked off with 50 all military amputees. The number was later cut down to 20. Welikala was elected to coach the team and Australian coach Kathy Fahim conducted a two-week crash course in wheelchair tennis. “Then I simply followed it up,” said Welikala. By mid-September the same year, a four-member team won the D Division in the Thailand Open 2002. Bullock, then the International Tennis Federation, Wheelchair Tennis Development Officer, facilitated Welikala’s one-month training in the Netherlands with world’s number one coach at the time, Aad Zwan. The International Tennis Federation (ITF) donated three wheelchairs and funded Australian and New Zealand wheelchair tournaments.

Two received ‘wild card’ entries into the Para Olympics 2004 in Athens, Greece. The SLTA team also won the Indian Open 2007, Australian B Division 2004, New Zealand B Division 2004, Belgium Open 2016, Malaysian Open 2017, Thailand Open 2017, Taipei Open 2018 and World Cup qualifiers 2018, held in Malaysia, along the way. Over the years, the Sri Lankan team has beaten US, Spainish, German, Italian, Slovakian Moroccan, Israeli, Swiss, Argentinian, Croatian, Russian, Canadian, Malaysian, Thai and Japanese players during World Cup matches. Their winning streak culminated in Lasantha Ranaweera and Suresh Dharmasena winning the bronze at the 3rd Asian Games, Indonesia in 2018.

War injuries break people, consequently, Welikala often had to double as a counsellor to the soldier-tennis players training under him. “But, all, after they became a part of the programme, wound up married.” This, no doubt, stands testimony to the success of the programme. “There’s a definite improvement in psychology.” Welikala ventured that, in a way it is therapeutic. “It’s something to look forward to in life.” But more importantly, Welikala points out that they are not friendless. “They are rated international and have friends all over the world.”

Welikala’s own achievements include being elected a member of Coaches’ Commission for the term between 2010 and 2012 and placed second best coach of the year. He started coaching regular tennis in 1985. Now he is the only Sri Lankan coach who specializes in wheelchair tennis, having trained 40 players so far. What’s unique about the Sri Lankan wheelchair tennis programme is that the players are all amputees, wounded in action, competing with players, most of who have been disabled by birth or childhood and have been playing wheelchair tennis for many decades, in A-grade wheelchairs.

“Back when we started, we didn’t have proper equipment. All the wheelchairs were locally assembled, until ITF donated the first three wheelchairs,” said Welikala. The team recently received three Malaysian-made wheelchairs at the cost of Rs. 500,000 each, courtesy of SLTA. “A state-of-the-art wheelchair would cost somewhere around three million. With that kind of equipment players can play well into their 50s,” said Lasantha Ranaweera.

The 36 -year-old, originally from Makandura enlisted in August 2003 and was assigned to Gajaba Regiment. After stepping on a landmine, his leg was amputated on May 19, 2008. From Anuradhapura he was brought to Colombo, where he recuperated for three months. Ranaweera spent four more months in Ranaviru Sevana and returned to service at his regiment. He spent two years with the sports team, during which he tried every sport available for an amputee like him, from basketball, badminton, table tennis, archery to the 24 kilometre marathon. Considering the zeal with which he applied himself to sport, it is quite surprising that he has not played any sport prior to his amputation.

He joined the SLTA wheelchair tennis team in 2011 and by 2013 he was in such fine form that he was able to bring home a medal on his first tour, coming third in Thai Open doubles. He has played seven Thai and nine Malaysian tournaments. Ranaweera placed eighth in the World Cup 2016 held in Japan. He has beaten every other local player in the game, although he is the third highest ranking Sri Lankan in ITF ranking.

Ranaweera admits that he couldn’t have come this far if it weren’t for the support of his family. He was married in 2007. But due to complications resulting from the blast the Ranaweeras could not have kids for 12 years. “It was a huge sacrifice on my wife’s part to stick around. But with treatment, it finally paid off. She always knew I’d make a name for myself in sports, so she was always encouraging.” Today Ranaweera is happy that the others finished the war for him, so his now one-year-old kid could live in peace.

After the war we had to face a more formidable enemy, this time in the form of a pandemic. As in any other field, COVID-19 has been a huge setback for these wheelchair tennis players. The longer they remain idle and the less tournaments they play, the higher the risk that other playing opponents may overtake them in the ITF ranking. “Training is not the issue, we need more tournaments, we need to travel,” pointed out Welikala. “If we don’t do tours, our ranking goes down,” added Ranaweera. “Age is irrelevant when it comes to wheelchair tennis,” said amputee Suresh Dharmasena. Take Stéphane Houdet for example, not only do such players have the best of equipment to their advantage, they also play often as possible to keep their ranking up. “Houdet is 49, yet he’s ranked in the ITF top 10. If we can manage at least 17 or 18 tours a year we can stay in the world top 20. This year we’ve played only three so far.”

Thirty-one-year-old Dharmasena from Kahatagasdigiliya has been playing Wheelchair Tennis since 2011. Unlike Ranaweera, Dharmasena was wounded during the latter part of the war. Dharmasena enlisted in July 2007 and was assigned to the Artillery Regiment. At the height of war, he was stationed in Puthukkudiyiruppu. It was February 21, 2009. Civilians were fleeing the war zone in droves, for two days, by boat across the Chalai lagoon, when the LTTE infiltrated the area and opened fire. Most were killed or injured. Dharmasena and others were pulling the wounded out when they were hit by mortar. Dharmasena was able to jump out of the way, which saved his life, but he fell on an anti-personnel mine.

“When four of your friends are down with various wounds, ranging in degrees of seriousness, and another lying dead a few feet away, your own predicament tends to escape you. Violence becomes mundane in war.” Wise words for a still young soldier. He was patched up at a makeshift hospital, but he knew that his foot was badly damaged all the way to the boot line. It had to be amputated. Dark thoughts of never being able to marry, have kids and make a family did cross his mind but had to be kept at bay for the sake of his family. After recuperating for four months at the Ranaviru Senvana, Dharmasena was fitted with a prosthetic. A month of training later, he was stationed at Panagoda Camp.

“I’ve always liked sports,” said Dharmasena, on the merits of which he got into the army. “After the amputation I used to watch kids in the village play volleyball.” Before his injury volleyball was his forte. Watching them, Dharmasena remembers being dejected at the prospect of never being able to play again. It was Brigadier Shiran Abeysekara who suggested that Dharmasena try his hand at wheelchair tennis. He joined the SLTA wheelchair tennis team in October 2011. “It looks easier than it is, but it uses only the upper body and on the first day your hand starts to blister. Any civilian would have quit. But the Army had my back. The word ‘can’t’ is not in the Army dictionary.” Wheelchair tennis, backed by the discipline that was inculcated in him by the Army, presented him with something he couldn’t refuse – the idea that he was not an invalid, that he could play any sport. He trained well into the night, woke up early and trained some more, till his ITF ranking shot up to Sri Lanka’s highest.

With 30 tours behind him and between 40 to 50 trophies stacked away back at home, Dharmasena readily admits that he couldn’t have done it without his wife. It takes courage for a traditional Sri Lankan woman to accept a disabled person for husband. And Dharmasena’s wife, Samurdika, did it with grace, maintaining that she would marry no other, until the in-laws had to budge. “Now they can’t do without me,” snickers Dharmasena. Like the typical traditional Sri Lankan wife, she makes a vow every time he is to play a tournament. However, she also makes it a point to go over each match, why he lost, the opponent’s weak points and notes it all down with the expertise of a seasoned coach. Whenever he is to face the same opponent again, they pore over this ‘playbook’, just so to know how to defeat his opponent’. And after a win she never fails to welcome him back home with much fanfare.

Gamini Dissanayake, aged 42, is the only remaining player out of the original 50. He took part in the two-week training course conducted by Kathy Fahim at the inception of the programme. Originally from Ampara, Dissanayake commutes daily from home in Awissawella for training. As the other players, Dissanayake could not have devoted such time and energy without the unstinting support of his family. Dissanayake has three kids; a 16 -year-old daughter and two sons, 14 and 11 years old.

He joined the Army in 1996 and was wounded in action in 2000, when he stepped on a mine in Muhamalai.

 

Dissanayake has played wheelchair tennis for 15 years. He said tennis had helped him to overcome his injury, both physically and psychologically.

Dharmasena said that his titles were many including SSC Open 2010, AITA Open Wheelchair Tennis Tournament 2011, Westende Wheelchair Tournament 2016, Malaysia Open 2016, Labuan Open 2018, Sri Lanka Open in the years 2013, 2018 and 2020 in singles and BII Indonesia Open 2011, AITA Open Wheelchair Tennis Tournament 2011, Westende Wheelchair Tournament 2016, Labuan Open 2018, Sri Lankan Open in the years 2008, 2009, 2010, 2013, SSC Open in the years 2010, 2011, 2012, 2013 and 2017 in doubles and bronze in World Cup 2012. He has some 130 trophies attesting to his formidability.

Ranaweera and Dharmasena look forward to the next Paralympics, slated for August 2021, and the Asian Games in 2022. Dissanayake hopeS to retire after the Paralympics and Asian Games. This is the last generation of wheelchair tennis players that the military might produce. Dharmasena is concerned about what will happen to the sport after they retire. He hopes that someone would come forward to provide food and lodging to children from remote corners of the country, interested in picking the game up. Because unlike them, who were provided for by the ASrmy, children from low income households may not be able to afford the equipment.

In fact, SLTA has already launched a low key programme to track down potential talent. “Until the end of the war, we had a steady influx of players, through the intervention of the Army,” said SLTA Director Administration, Gayanga Weerasekara. Since the war ended, there have been no disabled willing to take up the sport. Now the SLTA is venturing into remote areas and orphanages in search of talent. “If anyone’s interested call up SLTA,” said Weerasekara. “People with any kind of disability could take up the sport.” He explained that internationally the sport is categorized according to the disability and as such, there is a lot of scope for aspiring wheelchair tennis players. Weerasekara said that they were actively looking for funding and that they have been lucky so far, to have received funding from companies such as the Colombo International Container Terminals (CICT). He is also hopeful that the new Sports Minister, Namal Rajapaksa would support the sport.

Weerasekara pointed out that players like Ranaweera, Dharmasena and Dissanayake would have wasted years of youth in some Army camp office and later been dependent on a pension, had they not discovered the sport. “We were able to provide them with a whole new career. Grand slam players are paid in dollars.” Weerasekara explained that wheelchair tennis provides endless opportunities for disabled children. “There is a certain therapeutic aspect to wheelchair tennis, that disabled children can benefit from. For example, it is an outdoor game. It is a very social game, too when it comes to doubles.

Weerasekara said that the local players had not known anything about the sport before their injuries as opposed to most international players who are disabled by birth or at a young age. Moreover, due to funding issues they had not been able to do as many tours as they needed. “Under such circumstances, it is to their credit that they were able to qualify for world events such as the Paralympics. These players have sacrificed their limbs for this country, and the least anyone could do is sponsor them,” said Weerasekara, inviting any interested party to sponsor the players.



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RuGoesWild: Taking science into the wild — and into the hearts of Sri Lankans

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Visiting Komodo

At a time when misinformation spreads so easily—especially online—there’s a need for scientists to step in and bring accurate, evidence-based knowledge to the public. This is exactly what Dr. Ruchira Somaweera is doing with RuGoesWild, a YouTube channel that brings the world of field biology to Sri Lankan audiences in Sinhala.

“One of my biggest motivations is to inspire the next generation,” says Dr. Somaweera. “I want young Sri Lankans to not only appreciate the amazing biodiversity we have here, but also to learn about how species are studied, protected, and understood in other parts of the world. By showing what’s happening elsewhere—from research in remote caves to marine conservation projects—I hope to broaden horizons and spark curiosity.”

Unlike many travel and wildlife channels that prioritise entertainment, RuGoesWild focuses on real science. “What sets RuGoesWild apart is its focus on wildlife field research, not tourism or sensationalised adventures,” he explains. “While many travel channels showcase nature in other parts of the world, few dig into the science behind it—and almost none do so in Sinhala. That’s the niche I aim to fill.”

Excerpts of the Interview

Q: Was there a specific moment or discovery in the field that deeply impacted you?

“There have been countless unforgettable moments in my 20-year career—catching my first King cobra, discovering deep-diving sea snakes, and many more,” Dr. Somaweera reflects. “But the most special moment was publishing a scientific paper with my 10-year-old son Rehan, making him one of the youngest authors of an international peer-reviewed paper. We discovered a unique interaction between octopi and some fish called ‘nuclear-forager following’. As both a dad and a scientist, that was an incredibly meaningful achievement.”

Saltwater crocodiles in Sundarbans in Bangladesh, the world’s largest mangrove

Q: Field biology often means long hours in challenging environments. What motivates you to keep going?

“Absolutely—field biology can be physically exhausting, mentally draining, and often dangerous,” he admits. “I’ve spent weeks working in some of the most remote parts of Australia where you can only access through a helicopter, and in the humid jungles of Borneo where insects are insane. But despite all that, what keeps me going is a deep sense of wonder and purpose. Some of the most rewarding moments come when you least expect them—a rare animal sighting, a new behavioural observation, or even just watching the sun rise over a pristine habitat.”

Q: How do you balance scientific rigour with making your work engaging and understandable?

“That balance is something I’m constantly navigating,” he says. “As a scientist, I’m trained to be precise and data-driven. But if we want the public to care about science, we have to make it accessible and relatable. I focus on the ‘why’ and ‘wow’—why something matters, and what makes it fascinating. Whether it’s a snake that glides between trees, a turtle that breathes through its backside, or a sea snake that hunts with a grouper, I try to bring out the quirky, mind-blowing parts that spark curiosity.”

Q: What are the biggest misconceptions about reptiles or field biology in Sri Lanka?

“One of the biggest misconceptions is that most reptiles—especially snakes—are dangerous and aggressive,” Dr. Somaweera explains. “In reality, the vast majority of snakes are non-venomous, and even the venomous ones won’t bite unless they feel threatened. Sadly, fear and myth often lead to unnecessary killing. With RuGoesWild, one of my goals is to change these perceptions—to show that reptiles are not monsters, but marvels of evolution.”

Q: What are the most pressing conservation issues in Sri Lanka today?

“Habitat loss is huge,” he emphasizes. “Natural areas are being cleared for housing, farming, and industry, which displaces wildlife. As people and animals get pushed into the same spaces, clashes happen—especially with elephants and monkeys. Pollution, overfishing, and invasive species also contribute to biodiversity loss.”

Manta Rays

Q: What role do local communities play in conservation, and how can scientists better collaborate with them?

“Local communities are absolutely vital,” he stresses. “They’re often the first to notice changes, and they carry traditional knowledge. Conservation only works when people feel involved and benefit from it. We need to move beyond lectures and surveys to real partnerships—sharing findings, involving locals in fieldwork, and even ensuring conservation makes economic sense to them through things like eco-tourism.”

Q: What’s missing in the way biology is taught in Sri Lanka?

“It’s still very exam-focused,” Dr. Somaweera says. “Students are taught to memorize facts rather than explore how the natural world works. We need to shift to real-world engagement. Imagine a student in Anuradhapura learning about ecosystems by observing a tank or a garden lizard, not just reading a diagram.”

Q: How important is it to communicate science in local languages?

“Hugely important,” he says. “Science in Sri Lanka often happens in English, which leaves many people out. But when I speak in Sinhala—whether in schools, villages, or online—the response is amazing. People connect, ask questions, and share their own observations. That’s why RuGoesWild is in Sinhala—it’s about making science belong to everyone.”

‘Crocodile work’ in northern Australia.

Q: What advice would you give to young Sri Lankans interested in field biology?

“Start now!” he urges. “You don’t need a degree to start observing nature. Volunteer, write, connect with mentors. And once you do pursue science professionally, remember that communication matters—get your work out there, build networks, and stay curious. Passion is what will carry you through the challenges.”

Q: Do you think YouTube and social media can shape public perception—or even influence policy?

“Absolutely,” he says. “These platforms give scientists a direct line to the public. When enough people care—about elephants, snakes, forests—that awareness builds momentum. Policymakers listen when the public demands change. Social media isn’t just outreach—it’s advocacy.”

by Ifham Nizam

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Benjy’s vision materalises … into Inner Vision

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Inner Vision: Only keyboardist to be finalised

Bassist Benjy Ranabahu is overjoyed as his version of having his own band (for the second time) is gradually taking shape.

When asked as to how the name Inner Vision cropped up, Benjy said that they were thinking of various names, and suggestions were made.

“Since we have a kind of a vision for music lovers, we decided to go with Inner Vision, and I guarantee that Inner Vision is going to be a band with a difference,” said Benjy.

In fact, he has already got a lineup, comprising musicians with years of experience in the music scene.

Benjy says he has now only to finalise the keyboardist, continue rehearsing, get their Inner Vision act together, and then boom into action.

“Various names have been suggested, where the keyboard section is concerned, and very soon we will pick the right guy to make our vision a reality.”

Inner Vision will line-up as follows…

Anton Fernando

Benjy Ranabahu:
Ready to give music
lovers a new vision

(Lead guitar/vocals): Having performed with several bands in the past, including The Gypsies, he has many years of experience and has also done the needful in Japan, Singapore, Dubai, the Maldives, Zambia, Korea, New Zealand, and the Middle East.

Lelum Ratnayake

(Drums/vocals): The son of the legendary Victor Ratnayake, Lelum has toured Italy, Norway, Japan, Australia, Zambia, Kuwait and Oman as a drummer and percussionist.

Viraj Cooray

(Guitar/vocals): Another musician with years of experience, having performed with several of our leading outfits. He says he is a musician with a boundless passion for creating unforgettable experiences, through music.

Nish Peiris

Nish Peiris: Extremely talented

(Female vocals): She began taking singing, seriously, nearly five years ago, when her mother, having heard her sing occasionally at home and loved her voice, got her involved in classes with Ayesha Sinhawansa. Her mom also made her join the Angel Chorus. “I had no idea I could sing until I joined Angle Chorus, which was the initial step in my career before I followed my passion.” Nish then joined Soul Sounds Academy, guided by Soundarie David. She is currently doing a degree in fashion marketing.

And … with Benjy Ranabahu at the helm, playing bass, Inner Vision is set to light up the entertainment scene – end May-early June, 2025.

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Can Sri Lanka’s premature deindustrialisation be reversed?

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As politicians and economists continue to proclaim that the Sri Lankan economy has achieved ‘stability’ since the 2022 economic crisis, the country’s manufacturing sector seems to have not got the memo.

A few salient points need to be made in this context.

First, Sri Lankan manufacturing output has been experiencing a secular stagnation that predates external shocks, such as the pandemic and the Easter Attacks. According to national accounts data from UNIDO, manufacturing output in dollar terms has basically flatlined since 2012. Without a manufacturing engine at its core, it is no surprise that Sri Lanka has seen some of the lowest rates of economic growth during this period. (See graph)

Second, factory capacity utilisation still remains below pre-pandemic levels. Total capacity utilisation stood at 62% in 2024, compared to 81% in 2019. For wearing apparel, the country’s main manufactured export, capacity utilisation was at a meagre 58% in 2024, compared to 83% in 2019. Given the uncertainty Trump’s tariffs have cast on global trade, combined with the diminished consumer sentiment across the Global North, it is hard to imagine capacity utilisation recovering to pre-pandemic levels in the near future.

Third, new investment in manufacturing has been muted. From 2019 to 2024, only 26% of realised foreign investments in Board of Investment enterprises were in manufacturing. This indicates that foreign capital does not view the country as a desirable location for manufacturing investment. It also reflects a global trend – according to UNCTAD, 81% of new foreign investment projects, between 2020 and 2023, were in services.

Taken together, these features paint an alarming picture of the state of Sri Lankan manufacturing and prospects for longer-term growth.

What makes manufacturing so special?

A critical reader may ask at this point, “So what? Why is manufacturing so special?”

Political economists have long analysed the transformative nature of manufacturing and its unique ability to drive economic growth, generate technical innovation, and provide positive spillovers to other sectors. In the 1960s, Keynesian economist Nicholas Kaldor posited his famous three ‘growth laws, which argued for the ‘special place’ of manufacturing in economic development. More recently, research by UNIDO has found that 64% of growth episodes in the last 50 years were fuelled by the rapid development of the manufacturing sector.

Manufacturing profits provide the basis on which modern services thrive. London and New York could not have emerged as financial centres without the profits generated by industrial firms in Manchester and Detroit, respectively. Complex and high-end services, ranging from banking and insurance to legal advisory to logistics and transport, rely on institutional clients in industrial sectors. Meanwhile, consumer-facing services, such as retail and hospitality, depend on the middle-class wage base that an industrial economy provides.

Similarly, technologies generated in the manufacturing process can have massive impacts on raising the productivity of other sectors, such as agriculture and services. Indeed, in most OECD countries, manufacturing-oriented private firms are the biggest contributors to R&D spending – in the United States, 57% of business enterprise R&D spending is done by manufacturing firms; in China it is 80%.

It has become increasingly clear to both scholars and policymakers that national possession of industrial capacity is needed to retain advantages in higher value-added capabilities, such as design. This is because some of the most critical aspects of innovation are the ‘process innovations’ that are endemic to the production process itself. R&D cannot always be done in the comfort of an isolated lab, and even when it can, there are positive spillovers to having geographic proximity between scientists, skilled workers, and industrialists.

Produce or perish?

Sri Lanka exhibits the telltale signs of ‘premature deindustrialisation’. The term refers to the trend of underdeveloped countries experiencing a decline in manufacturing at levels of income much lower than what was experienced by countries that managed to break into high-income status.

Premature deindustrialisation afflicts a range of middle-income countries, including India, Brazil, and South Africa. It is generally associated with the inability of domestic manufacturing firms to diversify their activities, climb up the value chain, and compete internationally. Major bottlenecks include the lack of patient capital and skilled personnel to technologically upgrade and the difficulties of overcoming the market power of incumbents.

Reversing the trend of premature deindustrialisation requires selective industrial policy. This means direct intervention in the national division of labour in order to divert resources towards strategic sectors with positive spillovers. Good industrial policy requires a carrot-and-stick approach. Strategic manufacturing sectors must be made profitable, but incentives need to be conditional and based on strict performance criteria. Industrial can choose winners, but it has to be willing to let go of losers.

During the era of neoliberal globalisation, the importance of manufacturing was underplayed (or perhaps deliberately hidden). To some extent, knowledge of its importance was lost to policymakers. Karl Marx may have predicted this when, in Volume 2 of Das Kapital, he wrote that “All nations with a capitalist mode of production are, therefore, seized periodically by a feverish attempt to make money without the intervention of the process of production.”

Since the long depression brought about by the 2008 financial crisis, emphasis on manufacturing is making a comeback. This is most evident in the US ruling class’s panic over China’s rapid industrialisation, which has shifted the centre of gravity of the world economy towards Asia and threatened unipolar dominance by the US. In the Sri Lankan context, however, emphasis on manufacturing remains muted, especially among establishment academics and policy advisors who remain fixated on services.

Interestingly, between the Gotabaya Rajapaksa-led SLPP and the Anura Kumara Dissanayake-led NPP, there is continuity in terms of the emphasis on the slogan of a ‘production economy’ (nishpadana arthiakaya in Sinhala). Perhaps more populist than strictly academic, the continued resonance of the slogan reflects a deep-seated societal anxiety about Sri Lanka’s ability to survive as a sovereign entity in a world characterised by rapid technological change and the centralisation of capital.

Nationalist writer Kumaratunga Munidasa once said that “a country that does not innovate will not rise”. Amid the economic crises of the 1970s, former Prime Minister Sirimavo Bandaranaike popularised a pithier exhortation: “produce or perish”. Aside from their economic benefits, manufacturing capabilities are the pride of a nation, as they demonstrate skill and scientific knowledge, a command over nature, and the ability to mobilise and coordinate people towards the construction of modern wonders. In short, it is hard to speak of real sovereignty without modern industry.

(Shiran Illanperuma is a researcher at Tricontinental: Institute for Social Research and a co-Editor of Wenhua Zongheng: A Journal of Contemporary Chinese Thought. He is also a co-Convenor of the Asia Progress Forum, which can be contacted at asiaprogressforum@gmail.com).

By Shiran Illanperuma

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