Connect with us

Opinion

Wigneswaran’s tribalist shenanigans

Published

on

By ROHANA R. WASALA

The feature article: ‘False historical perspectives of Wigneswaran’ jointly written by Rienzie and Kusum Wijetilleke (The Island of September 4, 2020) provided the cue for the following comments. The Wijetillekes’ article makes interesting reading, though Wigneswaran’s tribal perspectives are hardly worth talking about, except for the danger of their acquiring a false validity due to halo effect (for, after all, Wigneswaran is a retired Supreme Court judge).

His attempt to falsify the long history of the country of the Sinhalese (the unrecorded part of it is much longer than the recorded part, as being archaeologically established at present) is like trying to chip off a splinter from the Sigiriya rock with his bare head. Be that as it may, the more recent post-independence history of our country is more relevant to the point, I think. The young people today may or may not know that, before our country was made a republic by their heroic parents and grandparents in 1972, our country had been officially regarded as a ‘dominion’ (i.e. ‘a semi-independent state’ under the British Crown) since 1948, the year of independence. So, it was a monarchy until then under the British monarch locally represented by an appointed official called ‘the Governor General’.

In terms of the 1972 Republican Constitution, the last was replaced by a figurehead president. A few years later, the currently operative 1978 Constitution created the post of executive president. But the official naming of the country as ‘Sri Lanka’ in 1972 was a shortsighted, though significant, change introduced as a novelty. The people were heroic; but the leaders were not wise enough to retain the traditional name/s of the island, which were the formal ‘Lanka’ or the informal ‘Lankawa’ (for the Sinhalese majority, and its Tamil version ‘Ilankei’ for the Tamil speaking minorities) and ‘Ceylon’ for foreigners and the English speaking local elite. The important point is that ‘Ceylon’ was a derivation from ‘Sinhale’ (the Land of the Sinhalese), which had been the historic name of the country from time immemorial until 1815. The interior part of the island which had remained independent of the British, known as the Kandyan Kingdom, was still called ‘Sinhale’, while the surrounding littoral part under British imperial occupation was identified as ‘Ceylon’, which means that, actually, the whole island was a single entity known as Sinhale/Ceylon. 

In their opening paragraph, the writers express the view that ‘Archbishop Malcolm Cardinal Ranjith’s recent comments regarding racial and religious politics were most timely. In a climate where religious leaders seek to become political leaders, to hear the Archbishop state so unequivocally that religion and language should not be the basis for a political party is ‘at least mildly reassuring’ OK. But why only ‘at least mildly reassuring’? From my point of view, the Archbishop, who abhors divisive politics, is putting his finger on what is ailing the Sri Lankan body politic today: racial and religious politics and we know what the parties are that depend on race and religion issues.

But the writers seem to have mixed up or equated with each other the extremists following racial and religious politics, and whom they call ‘religious leaders seeking to become political leaders’ (by which they probably mean the three monks who are currently engaged in an unseemly struggle over a national list seat in parliament won by a certain political party, or all monks including the three, who have been agitating against a number of longstanding issues affecting the majority community, the Buddhist establishment, and the unitary status of Sri Lanka, which are aspects of a single entity, but whose approach is apolitical.

 If the writers mean by ‘a climate where religious leaders seek to become political leaders’ the handful of vocal Buddhist monks who are raising a voice for rescuing the country from the aforementioned anomalies, and from what the Archbishop himself is denouncing (pretty much the same as the issues that the former are raising), they need to correct their terminology. These monks cannot be identified as ‘religious’ leaders among Buddhists. The Buddhists’ religious leaders are the Nayake and Maha Nayake monks, who are what the Archbishop is among the Christians. The activist monks feel obliged to do what they are doing because the Maha Nayakes are not seen (as clearly as the Archbishop for some reason) to be doing for the Buddhists what the Archbishop is doing for the Catholics. (The Archbishop is trying to ensure that the government fulfills its obligations to the Catholics for whom he is responsible as their ordained leader, without stooping to politics; but we know that his concern is for the welfare of all Sri Lankans without discrimination. Buddhists also felt protected under his moral leadership in the critical aftermath of the April 21 bombings, because he had won their trust as he had already repeatedly stressed the vital importance of preserving the age-old Buddhist religious cultural heritage our country). The monk-politician-centred episode that is being currently staged should be regarded as the last flicker of the culturally embarrassing Buddhist-monks-in-parliament politics novelty introduced in 2004, which hardly survived the few years of its experimental stage. 

Talking about racial politics, the enduring nationalism that the first prime minister (of post-colonial, at least nominally independent, Sri Lanka) D. S. Senanayake championed was Ceylonese nationalism. That’s why, asked by the Soulbury Commissioners how many Tamils he wanted to have in his cabinet, he replied without hesitation, as H. A .J. Hulugalla, his biographer recorded, ‘I don’t mind the number if they act as Ceylonese’, a non-racist attitude that is still alive among the vast majority of the majority Sinhalese community; although it is not acknowledged by the few real racists who currently have sway among minority politicians. While D. S. Senanayake and other Sinhalese leaders were committed to non-communal nationalism, the racists among Tamil leaders opposed them. S.W.R.D. Bandaranaike left the UNP to form his own party because he found the trust that his and party’s leader D.S. placed in the treacherous Tamil leaders was not being reciprocated by them. Bandaranaike understood that his boss’s expectation that they’d come round to accept his kind of Ceylonese nationalism was not going to be fulfilled. Because of this fact I see no justification for the writers’ apparent treatment of Sinhalese and Tamil leaders of the time as equally guilty of racist prejudice.

Bandaranaike, who was as much a Ceylonese nationalist as DS, was not wrong to speak in terms of the following in the then prevailing circumstances in mid-1950s, as quoted in the Wijetillekes’ article: “… the fears of the Sinhalese, I do not think can be brushed aside as completely frivolous. I believe there are a not inconsiderable number of Tamils in this country out of a population of 8 million. Then there are 40-50 million Tamil people in the adjoining country. What about all this Tamil literature, Tamil teachers, even films, papers and magazines? … I do not think there is an unjustified fear of the inexorable shrinking of the Sinhala language. It is a fear that cannot be brushed aside”. Bandaranaike was opposed by those who did not care about the existence of the native Sinhala and Tamil languages or about the serious anomalies that the Sinhalese majority suffered because they were Sinhalese. 

Maybe there were only 40-50 million Tamils in India (Tamil Nadu) then. But today, there are over 72 million there, and a several more millions of Tamils scattered across the globe. And some ethnic Tamils, not necessarily of Sri Lankan origin, occupy powerful positions in international bodies that can exert adverse influence on Sri Lanka if they wish, though this is unlikely as they are also originally from a non-violent, peaceful, cultural background. However, if unreasonable viewpoints are promoted among them against the beleaguered global minority that the Sinhalese are, it will be nothing short of something genocidal, because Sri Lankans are engulfed in much more dire circumstances than in the 1950s, being constantly threatened by potential exigencies that could become reality in the boiling geopolitical cauldron that is fast emerging in our region.

It is the sort of nationalism that DS believed in that inspires today’s nationalists. Recently, some bogus critics of the founder of the UNP have started promulgating the misconception that the word ‘national’ in the name ‘United National Party’ was divisive, because it was an erroneous recognition of the alleged presence of a plurality of ‘nations’ (based on race, religion, etc.) in Sri Lanka. Nothing could be further from the truth. This sort of thing is nothing but false propaganda spread by the few separatist racists there are and their opportunistic sympathisers. The UNP has been decimated in terms of parliamentary representation, but that is due to the inefficiency and lack of love for the country on the part of its ageing, narrowly self-seeking leaders. This affords a good chance for a vibrant young leadership to emerge who can bring the divided party together, ousting the current squabbling, leadership qualities lacking leaders, and forge it into a strong oppositional force that can work both with as well as against the SLPP government, to make Sri Lanka the kind of prosperous stable country that the traditional Guardians of the Nation, the Maha Sangha, are determined to help forge, with the cooperation of our other spiritual leaders like the Archbishop. This is an urgent need of the hour. The SLMC leader Hakeem’s justification, at the Presidential Commission of Inquiry into the Easter Attack, of a separate administrative unit for Tamil speaking Muslims in a part of the Eastern province is ominous. Are these purveyors of racial and religious politics seeking cooperation or confrontation with other Tamil speakers (Hindus)?

His Eminence Malcom Cardinal Ranjith urged the authorities a few days ago, at an annual religious service held at the Tewatta National Basilica Church at Ragama, to expose and punish, without any further delay or vacillation, the evil extremist forces and their agents who were actually behind the April 21 attacks that left 269 innocent persons killed and over 120 permanently disabled; who provided the perpetrators of those crimes financial and logistical support, he demanded to know. He was unequivocal in condemning religious extremists who believed in killing adherents of other faiths to affirm their faith in their own god. The Cardinal wanted the responsible persons at the highest level under the previous administration, not only the politicians but also the officials, to be dealt with according to the law for failing to prevent, at least in the name of humanity, those heinous crimes, even though they had been previously warned many times by intelligence agencies; and his incidental but no less urgent call for a ban on political parties based on religion and language, still reverberates in our ears.

For so boldly expressing his personal conviction regarding the subject, the Archbishop has already earned the deep respect and gratitude not only of Sri Lankan Catholics but also of ordinary Sri Lankans of other faiths as well, including the majority Buddhists, who are helpless victims of the oppressive trends set in motion by the policies of such parties and the sectarian religious movements behind them. 

The Archbishop’s call needs to be heeded by the leaders of the present administration who have been democratically elected by the pan-Sri Lankan electorate, with overwhelming majorities to rescue the country from, among other things, the undue pressures exerted on parliamentary decision-making by parties based on race and religion, which enjoyed their heyday during the Yahapalanaya, taking cover behind bogus reconciliation politics imposed on the country by external interventionist forces. However, this does not mean that the opposition must step aside and look on passively, leaving everything to be accomplished by the government.

The most recent triumph of nationalism that the patriotic people have achieved (in November 2019, and August 2020) under the SLPP transcends, in its reach, promise and potential, all the previous watershed moments arrived at in 1956, 1972, and 2009, which, unfortunately, were reversed by racists. The same reversal should not be allowed to happen this time. It should not be forgotten that, without the selfless exertions of the Buddhist monk activists, the nationalist triumph would never have been possible. The united Maha Sangha will remain the anchor sheet and guarantor of the wholesome unitary state of Sri Lanka. But that historic role of the monks is intrinsically non-political, and eminently compatible with the principles of modern secular democracy. The Maha Sangha have been the Guardians of the Nation without a break (even during periods of foreign invasion) ever since the official establishment of Buddha Sasana in the island by Arhant Mahinda Thera twenty-three centuries ago. Politicizing the Maha Sangha, despite the existence of the Maha Nayakes, is the surest way to undermine its power.



Continue Reading
Click to comment

Leave a Reply

Your email address will not be published. Required fields are marked *

Opinion

Microfinance and Credit Regulatory Authority Act 2026 fails all affacted communities

Published

on

A protest against exploitation by microfinance companies

The Microfinance and Credit Regulatory Authority Bill was passed into law by the Parliament of Sri Lanka on 4 March. According to Deputy Minister of Finance and Planning Dr. Anil Jayantha, the main object of the Act is to establish an Authority to “license and supervise the under-regulated microfinance and moneylending sector, aiming to protect borrowers from exploitation and ensure financial stability”.

However, the Yukthi Collective is saddened and disappointed that a government which pledged to take “measures to alleviate the burden of predatory microfinance loans with high interest rates on women” (NPP Manifesto, 2024: Page no. 44), will now add to their unbearable weight.

The new Act, as virtually all legislation enacted by Anura Kumara Dissanayake’s government, is a legacy of the anti-working class Ranil Wickremesinghe regime. It evades the root causes of the microfinance trap, and ignores debt justice for women borrowers.

It fails in understanding the connections between household debt and public debt. The vicious cycle of national debt is sustained by lack of growth in economic activity because of poor access to affordable credit.

It fails to make equal representation of women mandatory in the new Authority. If representatives of women borrowers and their self-run organisations are not present in the regulatory body, how will its members know of their lived experiences and make decisions that value women’s unpaid and paid contributions to sustaining life?

System Change

Millions of indebted households voted for the NPP with hope and expectation of ‘system change’. But instead of honouring its manifesto promise to them, the government has let them down in the law-making process; as well as the focus and substance of the new Act.

It is appalling that NPP parliamentarians, including some of its women members, appear not to have read and understood the bill they enacted into law, nor spoke to the rural credit community providers in their electorates for their views.

Predatory lending exists in the formal and informal sectors. Within this ecosystem, the Act fails to understand, identify, and prohibit predatory lending and recovery practices. It is a cover for the Central Bank’s failure to properly regulate ‘Licensed Finance Companies’ in the interests of citizens.

The biggest offenders are the big finance companies, in which some parliamentarians are deposit-holders. Therefore, some lawmakers benefit from excess profitmaking through exploitative practices, at the expense of poor mostly rural women.

Where law reform should discipline the bullies and thugs in credit delivery, it will instead wipe out, through over-regulation, community-based and managed lenders such as death donation societies, farmer associations, and urban and rural women’s collectives, which have been a lifeline for vulnerable working-class women and a defence from harmful recovery practices.

Structural Adjustment Programmes

The motivation for this new law are the market- and capital- friendly structural reforms insisted by International Financial Institutions; not the concerns and needs of those at the mercy of predatory lenders.

From the Microfinance Act 2016, to the 2023 version of the Ranil Wickremesinghe regime, the Asian Development Bank (ADB) through its loans has been a promoter of these regressive reforms.

The 2026 Act, with some changes suggested by the Supreme Court in 2024 and hardly any of the changes demanded by affected communities, has been moved forward by the NPP government in line with ADB loan conditionalities.

The path of de-regulation for banking, finance, trade, and investment; and over-regulation of poor people’s savings and credit institutions, smacks of the bias to big capital, which the NPP in opposition once criticised.

Reforms needed

The financial and banking reforms we want to see are to make credit from state banks and public funds accessible and affordable to women producers in agriculture and micro and small business operators; with decent wages and social protection for workers; that improve household opportunity for a dignified livelihood and decent lives.

Yukthi is a forum supporting working people’s movements and people’s struggles for democracy and justice in Sri Lanka.

by Yukthi Collective

Continue Reading

Opinion

Illegal Bus Halt at Gate Number 11 of NHSL

Published

on

There is an unofficial bus halt at Gate Number 11 of the National Hospital at the 90-degree bend at the Prof. Nandadasa Kodagoda Mawatha (Old Norris Canal Road) which creates traffic jams at peak hours. Especially at the school opening and closing times at Carey College and hospital visiting hours.

Prospective passengers stand by the bend and then the busses stop suddenly on the middle of the road. The motorcycle in the picture is put into danger. The next bus halt is a few yards further near Carey College and Medical College Junction.

The problem is that illegal practices such as these, end up as approved procedure in our neck of the woods!

It must be nipped in the bud.

G. Fernando

 

Continue Reading

Opinion

Naval hostilities close to a neutral coastal state: Legal assessment of a submarine attack on an Iranian warship near Sri Lanka

Published

on

SLN rescue operation to save the IRIS Dena survivors of the US submarine attack. (Handout picture from the government of Sri Lanka)

A submarine attack on an Iranian destroyer proximate to Sri Lanka represents more than a discrete naval engagement; it signals a potential horizontal escalation of conflict into the wider Indian Ocean Region (IOR). Historically, confrontations between Iran and Western powers have been largely confined to the Persian Gulf and adjacent regional waters. A strike near Sri Lanka, however, shifts the operational theatre from a semi-enclosed regional sea into the open Indian Ocean. This globally vital maritime space encompasses critical trade routes, energy supply corridors, and strategically sensitive naval zones.

This geographic expansion carries multiple strategic implications. First, it demonstrates the long-range maritime strike capabilities and blue-water operational reach of the belligerent forces. Second, it functions as a form of deterrence signalling, conveying a willingness to project force beyond traditional conflict zones. Third, it widens the theatre of operations, increasing the probability of third-party entanglement and amplifying regional instability.

Beyond its immediate military and strategic dimensions, the incident raises complex legal questions under both jus ad bellum—the body of law governing the use of force between states—and jus in bello, encompassing international humanitarian law applicable to armed conflict at sea. The central questions addressed in this paper are:

a. Lawfulness of Force:

Whether the use of force against the Iranian warship was lawful under the United Nations Charter, including considerations of self-defence and Security Council authorisation.

b. Compliance with International Humanitarian Law:

Whether the attack adhered to the principles and norms of international humanitarian law governing naval warfare, including the lawfulness of the target, proportionality, distinction, and obligations toward shipwrecked personnel.

c. Neutrality and Coastal State Rights:

Whether Sri Lanka’s rights and obligations as a neutral coastal state were violated, particularly within its territorial sea and Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ).

d. Operational and Geostrategic Implications:

The broader implications of conducting military operations within or near neutral maritime zones, and the interplay between legal permissibility, maritime security, environmental obligations, and regional stability.

These questions form the analytical framework that will guide the discussion throughout this paper, providing a structured lens for examining the legal, humanitarian, and strategic dimensions of the incident.

Jus ad Bellum and Jus in Bello:

Legality of the Use of Force

The legality of a submarine attack against a commissioned warship during an armed conflict must be assessed within a structured framework of international law comprising the jus ad bellum regime under the United Nations Charter, the corpus of international humanitarian law (IHL), and customary principles of naval warfare as reflected in the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea.

At the threshold level, the UN Charter governs the lawfulness of the use of force between states. Article 2(4) establishes a general prohibition on the threat or use of force against the territorial integrity or political independence of any state, subject only to narrow exceptions. These exceptions include the inherent right of self-defence under Article 51 and actions authorised by the United Nations Security Council under Chapter VII.

Accordingly, if an Iranian warship were torpedoed by a submarine, the attacking state would be required to demonstrate that the action was undertaken either pursuant to a valid claim of self-defence, necessitated by an armed attack or imminent threat, or as part of an already existing international armed conflict. Absent such justification, the attack could constitute an unlawful use of force in violation of the Charter’s collective security framework.

Where an international armed conflict is already in existence, the analysis shifts from jus ad bellum to Jus in bello, namely the rules governing the conduct of hostilities.

Jus in bello

: Naval Warfare and Attack Against an Iranian Naval Ship

Where an international armed conflict exists between the United States and Iran, the analysis shifts to jus in Bello. Commissioned warships form part of a state’s armed forces and constitute lawful military objectives. Under customary naval warfare law, as reflected in the San Remo Manual on International Law Applicable to Armed Conflicts at Sea, enemy warships may be attacked, including by submarine-launched torpedoes, without prior warning. An Iranian destroyer operating as part of Iran’s navy would therefore constitute a legitimate military objective in principle.

However, the legality of a torpedo attack by a United States submarine remains subject to the foundational principles of international humanitarian law, including distinction, proportionality, military necessity, and precautions in attack. The principle of distinction requires that the target be military in nature; proportionality prohibits attacks expected to cause incidental harm excessive in relation to the anticipated military advantage; and military necessity demands that the force employed be directed toward achieving a legitimate military objective.

These obligations are particularly significant in maritime theatres characterised by dense commercial traffic, such as the sea lanes south of Sri Lanka. Incidental harm to neutral merchant vessels, offshore installations, or third-state interests must therefore be carefully assessed in relation to the anticipated concrete and direct military advantage.Submarine warfare, though technologically sophisticated and strategically consequential, remains subject to these enduring normative constraints, which seek to balance operational effectiveness with humanitarian considerations in the maritime domain.

Customary humanitarian law further requires that feasible measures be taken to search for and rescue the shipwrecked, wounded, and dead following an engagement. In this respect, any action by the Sri Lanka Navy to rescue surviving sailors and recover bodies from the destroyed vessel represents a prudent and legally consonant exercise of humanitarian responsibility. Such conduct reflects long-standing maritime tradition and aligns with the duties recognised under the law of armed conflict and the broader law of the sea, without compromising Sri Lanka’s neutral status.

Sri Lanka’s Legal Position Concerning the Torpedoed Iranian Vessel

Sri Lanka’s legal position is largely determined by the maritime location in which the submarine attack occurred. Should the hostilities have taken place within Sri Lanka’s territorial sea, defined as extending up to 12 nautical miles from the baseline, such conduct would constitute a breach of Sri Lanka’s sovereignty and a violation of the law of neutrality, which forbids belligerent states from engaging in hostilities within neutral waters and imposes a duty on the coastal state to prevent such actions within its jurisdiction. In that circumstance, Sri Lanka would be entitled to issue a diplomatic protest and potentially pursue reparative claims.

By contrast, as the engagement took place within Sri Lanka’s Exclusive Economic Zone (EEZ), the analysis is more nuanced under the United Nations Convention on the Law of the Sea. The EEZ confers sovereign rights for resource exploitation rather than full sovereignty, and prevailing state practice accepts that military operations, including naval manoeuvres, are not per se unlawful in another state’s EEZ. While such an engagement would not automatically breach international law, it would nonetheless generate significant security concerns, including risks to navigational safety, potential environmental damage, and heightened regional instability. Should the sinking result in oil discharge, hazardous material release, or debris affecting shipping lanes, obligations under UNCLOS to protect and preserve the marine environment would be engaged.

Although the Rio Declaration on Environment and Development does not explicitly regulate armed conflict, its principles highlight an increasing expectation for states to protect the environment during hostilities. Similarly, UNCLOS mandates that states protect and preserve the marine environment. Consequently, should the sinking of the Iranian destroyer cause an oil spill, the release of hazardous materials, or navigational hazards, specific environmental liabilities would be triggered. Strategically, a submarine strike near Sri Lanka signals more than a discrete tactical engagement. It reflects the projection of great-power naval capabilities into a strategically sensitive maritime space through which a substantial proportion of global trade transits.

Sri Lanka occupies a pivotal geostrategic position astride the principal East–West Sea Lines of Communication linking Gulf energy supplies, East Asian manufacturing centres, and European markets via the Suez Canal. A substantial proportion of global container traffic transits south of the island, rendering these waters acutely sensitive to instability. Even a limited naval engagement can elevate war-risk insurance premiums, disrupt commercial routing, and indirectly affect port operations in Colombo and Hambantota.

From a jus ad bellum perspective, geographic expansion does not in itself render hostilities unlawful; yet it complicates assessments of necessity and proportionality and increases the risk of escalation affecting neutral states.

The torpedoing of an Iranian naval vessel in maritime zones proximate to Sri Lanka necessitates a carefully layered legal assessment situated at the confluence of jus ad bellum, jus in bello, and the law of the sea. As this paper has demonstrated, the legality of the incident ultimately turns on four interrelated determinations:

(a) whether a lawful basis for the use of force existed under Article 51 of the Charter of the United Nations, grounded in self-defence;

(b) whether the attack complied with the principles of distinction, proportionality, and military necessity under international humanitarian law;

(c) whether the engagement occurred within Sri Lanka’s territorial sea, thereby infringing its sovereignty and violating the law of neutrality; and

(d) whether the obligations owed to survivors, shipwrecked personnel, and the marine environment were respected in accordance with the law of armed conflict at sea and relevant maritime conventions.

If the attack did not occur within Sri Lanka’s territorial sea, it would not amount to a violation of sovereignty or a breach of the law of neutrality capable of engaging state responsibility on that ground.

By contrast, where the engagement occurred beyond the territorial sea whether within the Exclusive Economic Zone or on the high seas prevailing interpretations of the law of naval warfare, reinforced by consistent state practice, suggest that the operation may be regarded as legally defensible, provided that the cumulative requirements of necessity, proportionality, distinction, and humanitarian obligation were satisfied.

Nevertheless, legal permissibility does not equate to strategic prudence. The deployment of a United States submarine to conduct kinetic operations in proximity to a neutral coastal state within the Indian Ocean underscores the increasingly complex convergence of naval power projection, humanitarian norms, environmental obligations, and coastal state rights within the contemporary maritime domain.

Even where consistent with international law, the extension of submarine warfare into the wider Indian Ocean carries destabilising implications for regional security, commercial shipping, and the safety of neutral coastal states situated along critical sea lines of communication. The geographic expansion of hostilities into this maritime space heightens the risks of miscalculation, escalation, and unintended third-party involvement.

For Sri Lanka, the incident underscores the delicate equilibrium between maintaining neutrality, safeguarding maritime security, and upholding the international legal order. The actions undertaken by the Sri Lanka Navy in conducting rescue and recovery operations for surviving sailors and deceased personnel reflect the discharge of well-established humanitarian duties under international law and exemplify responsible conduct at sea.

Ultimately, this episode illustrates the increasingly complex convergence of naval power projection, international humanitarian norms, and coastal state rights within the contemporary maritime domain. In an era marked by intensifying great-power competition and expanding operational reach in the Indian Ocean, the preservation of legal clarity, strategic restraint, and respect for neutral maritime spaces remains essential to sustaining regional stability and safeguarding the integrity of the international maritime order.

by REAR ADMIRAL (RTD.) JAGATH RANASINGHE
VSV, USP, psc, MSc (DS) Mgt, MMaritimePol (Aus),
PG Dip in CPS, DIP in CR, FNI (Lond), Former Govt Fellow GCSP

Continue Reading

Trending