Features
Between Mahara and Burevi, amid anxiety and relief

THE WEEK THAT WAS
by Malinda Seneviratne
Fire and brimstone. That’s one way of talking about the week that has passed. Fire, on account of the tragedy that unfolded at the Mahara Prison, brimstone as metaphor for what was feared (but didn’t transpire) by way of a cyclone, Buravi. Of course we are still caught in the so-called Second Wave of the Covid-19 pandemic and a budget debate.
Let’s first get to the Covid-19 situation. As of December 3, total infections confirmed stood at 26,038 against 19,032 recoveries with 129 fatalities. As such, according to Epidemiology Unit data, there are a told of 6,877 active cases. The relevant authorities impose restrictions and, probably following careful monitoring, relax the same and even lift them completely. Colombo is clearly the hardest hit district. This has obvious implications for economic activity. Most institutions have opted to restrict numbers coming to work and have put in place work-from-home systems. Until when, however, is a question that no one can answer.
‘Let’s wait for the vaccine’ is, in a sense, a sign of resignation. The fact of the matter is that despite promising updates on multiple vaccines, there are none yet that the World Health Organizations have approved. Affordability will probably be an issue that will accompany availability. Meanwhile, as has been the case from the beginning of this story, it is best to assume that YOU ARE INFECTED or, if that’s a bit terrifying, to assume that YOU MAY BE INFECTED. So what do you do? Well, if you can’t stay at home, isolated, and indeed aren’t required to since you’ve not tested positive, limit travel, avoid public places, wear a mask as per mask-protocol, wash your hands and maintain recommended social distance. In short, follow guidelines.
That’s what civic responsibility is all about. Of course, not everyone is responsible. Forget civic responsibility, even basic civility is spat at (literally) by some. Yes, we are talking about the incident in Atalugama (yes, the very same village that’s acquired a poor reputation on account of Covid-19) where an infected individual spat in the face of a Public Health Inspector.
Gross, first and foremost. Irresponsible to the core, moreover. If someone is infected, knows it and knowingly acts in a way that could infect someone else that’s not just irresponsible but criminal. Given the nature of the virus and the possibility of death, it has to be treated as equivalent to ‘attempted murder’.
The Government Medical Officers’ Association (GMOA), which has been offering regular advice to the Government with regard to how the pandemic ought to be handled has, on behalf of health professionals, issued a dire warning. It is mulling ‘very serious decisions regarding the provision of services for people in the area.’
The GMOA is a trade union. It is made of professionals in the medical field. It has every right to air the grievances of its membership and to contemplate collective action in the face of any act(s) that put them at risk of any kind. The GMOA’s advice should be taken in good faith, but this doesn’t mean that decision-makers should take it as the last word on the matter. They have the qualifications to talk about viruses, diseases and treatment, but they are not experts on the social and economic entirety in which the pandemic is located and moves.
In this instance, it’s about protecting members from possible infection. Understood. However, to contemplate what is essentially the punishment of an entire community for the wrongdoing of a single member of that collective is morally wrong.
After the incident of a Covid-19 infected individual spitting in the face of a Public Health Inspector (PHI) in Atalugama in Bandaragama, the Government Medical Officers’ Association (GMOA) said health professionals would have to take very serious decisions in future regarding providing their services for the people in the area. They claim, ‘no one in the village spoke against this person (the spitter)’ nor offered support to the PHI officers. That’s not crime enough for a deliberate denial of health services.
Let’s go to Mahara. The prison riots and the outcome brought back memories of ‘Welikada’ (2012 and 1983). This time around there wasn’t an armory for the prisoners to raid. The target was the pharmacy. There was unrest over PCR rests and here the blame falls squarely on the health authorities of the prison who were either ignorant or mischievous with respect to possible anxieties and alleviating the same.
How did it escalate to a point where arson took place, hostages were taken, prisoners attacking one another and a warranting of the use of force? At the end of it all, 11 persons were dead and over 100 wounded. A prison is all about security but insecurity was what was most evident in this incident.
Whether the victims were in prison for drug-related offenses, petty theft, brigandry or scamming the Central Bank is absolutely irrelevant here. No one subjected to a prison sentence would think he/she would enjoy luxurious accommodation, but neither would they believe they could die there.
The Government has taken responsibility. Inquires are under way. Those responsible for negligence or incompetence or both at every key point in the process need to be held accountable.
It is not illogical to move from prisons to courts, so let’s discuss judicial appointments. A few weeks ago, President Gotabaya Rajapaksa nominated several persons to the Supreme Court. When the 20th Amendment was first proposed, the objectors raised questions about judicial independence. These objectors, nor surprisingly were ardent fans of the 19th Amendment. They applauded the Constitutional Council and decried the Parliamentary Council the 20th would replace it with. The CC was politician-heavy and even the non-politicians were essentially political pals of the then regime, in particular the Ranil Wickremesinghe faction of it. Meritocracy and seniority were shoved aside in favor of the ‘safe’ and ‘loyal.’
Six individuals have now been promoted as judges of the Supreme Court. They were the six most senior judges in line for promotion. A total of 14 have been appointed to the Court of Appeal. Eleven are senior judges of the high courts, two from the Attorney General’s department and the last from the unofficial bar who is in fact a former district judge.
Draconian. Hitler-like. Dictator. Military-mindset. Those were the tags pinned on Gotabaya Rajapaksa. Well, the president seems to have done an immense disservice to his reputation! His detractors, meanwhile, are in thumb-twiddling land on these appointments.
That said, the course of action chosen by Gotabaya Rajapaksa does not necessarily mean that someone else would do the same if in his place. Ranil Wickremesinghe, as Prime Minister, was ‘okay’ with the Near-n-Dear Mode. If he, or someone like him (and there are many in all political camps), was in Rajapaksa’s shoes, there’s no guarantee that meritocracy and seniority would be similarly affirmed.
The President, however, has set a precedent. A good one. Reason has bested emotion and self-interest. We should applaud. Related to all this is of course ‘The Constitution.’ A committee has been appointed to draft a new constitution. The public has been requested to submit recommendations. Well, there’s a set of recommendations which may require constitutional amendment that this committee headed by Romesh de Silva can wipe the dust off and use as a foundational text when deliberating on certain elements of constitutional amendment: The Sectoral Oversight Committee on National Security.
This committee was appointed in the aftermath of the Easter Sunday attacks in 2019. The 17-member committee headed by Malith Jayatilleka, came up with many recommendations on 13 different subject areas which, in their minds, would ‘eliminate new terrorism and extremism,’ or rather threat of the same. It is all about streamlining matters, especially in key areas such as education, religion, media and defence.
The Report was released days before the expected dissolution of Parliament, i.e., on February 19, 2020. That could have been a coincidence. Dissolution was followed by Covid-19 related restrictions and then parliamentary elections. The document was the work of a previous Parliament, true. The movers and shakers of that parliament got creamed on August 5, 2020. Nevertheless, some of the committee members were returned. All this notwithstanding, we don’t have any report that can even come close to this in terms of taking cognizance of relevant factors and recommending corrections with a view to tackling the vexed problem of extremism.
Not all recommendations require constitutional amendment. A simple gazette notification would suffice for most of them to be put into operation. Others may require cabinet approval or acts of parliament. Some, amendment of the Muslim Marriage and Divorce Law and the Waqf Law might require an amendment; no doubt interested parties will petition the Supreme Court to hear their objections. All that, for tomorrow. Today, it makes sense to use the report at least as the basis for conversation if not far-reaching restructuring of institutions and adjusting of processes to ensure reconciliation and peace.
President Gotabaya Rajapaksa, in his election campaign, fervently pledged that he would work towards a system that affirms the notion ‘One-Country, One-Law.’ The Sri Lanka Podujana Peramuna (SLPP) used that slogan in the run up to the August elections. They need to make good on that pledge. They have 6.9 million backing them. In fact they have more, for if they use this Report as a base document for reform that aims for cogency in the law, the constituencies of the authors and the parties they represent would significantly swell those numbers. Let us not forget that Sajith Premadasa’s campaign also insisted that the unitary nature of the state would not be fiddled with. His backers also spoke the one-country-one-law language.
The report can be found online if you go to www.parliament.lk and look for ‘committee reports.’ It’s the one right on top. We recommend a close reading of that text.
Finally, we have the anticlimax. Buravi.
There was much anxiety on account of Buravi. It was heartening to hear that the Governor of the Eastern Province, Anuradha Yahampath, visiting villages considered to be at risk, advising them, offering help and instructing all relevant state agencies to be ready for any eventuality. The Disaster Management authorities were ready. Officials on the ground were on alert.
The devastation feared did not take place. One person has gone missing, four are reported to have been injured and over 12,000 persons adversely affected. The Disaster Management Centre (DMC) has released the following numbers: 2, 252 people in 3, 575 families affected, 15 houses fully damaged and 192 partially damaged. A total of 10, 336 persons in 2, 911 families have been placed in 79 safe locations Mannar, Jaffna, Killinochchi, Mullaitivu, Vavuniya and Trincomalee districts.
The district-wise breakdown of the affected is as follows. Mannar: 7, 749 people in 2, 236 families; Jaffna: 2,986 people in 829 families; Killinochchi: 41 people in 10 families; Mullaitivu: 1, 149 people in 405 families; Vavuniya: 236 people in 74 families; Trincomalee: 91 people in 21 families.
What next? Provincial Councils? Ruling party politicians are making a bit of noise about PC elections. Maybe they are testing waters. It’s in their interest. Political consolidation is part of the story.
PC elections have been repeatedly postponed. This is not a good thing. The democracy-watchdogs, not surprisingly, haven’t uttered a word about this. Interestingly they also happen to be high on ‘devolution.’ Maybe they are punch-drunk. Maybe they were never sober or were unsighted by party loyalty and outcome preferences.
The 13th Amendment, which gave us PCs, was illegally pushed through. However, it is not part of the constitution. As such elections should be held. On the other hand, we are told that a new constitution is on the way. In that case, why waste time and money on maintaining this white elephant which was the issue of an ungainly union between Indian hegemony and a spineless regime way back in 1987? The intended beneficiaries, after all, aren’t lamenting the fact that they haven’t elected representatives to relevant PCs. Administration has not come to a standstill.
The drafters of the new constitution should consider these issues as well. We await word from them on progress made, what we can expect and when. We need to know what they propose to do with the 13th Amendment as well.
One week rolls into another and Covid-19 rolls along. We are relieved that Buravi’s bark was worse than its bite. We are alarmed that ‘Mahara’ happened. We are encouraged by judicial appointments. We remain wary, as is prudent, always.
Features
Politics of Enforced Disappearances in Sri Lanka

In 2016, I participated in research focused on gathering information about reconciliation mechanisms in post-war Sri Lanka. During one of the interviews, a Tamil mother, from the Eastern part of the country, broke into tears as she shared her story. Her son had disappeared, and, according to some of the neighbours, he was apparently abducted by a paramilitary group. Her story goes as follows: After hearing the news, she began searching for her son and went to the police station to file a case. However, police refused to file the case and directed her to a military camp. In the military camp, she was directed to an officer, who took her to a room with scattered flesh and blood stains. Then the officer, pointing to the room has told the lady that, ‘This is your son’.
In another instance, in the same year, while we were working in Kurunegala, an elderly mother, wearing a white saree, approached us and shared her story. She held a stained envelope, and when she carefully took out a piece of paper, related to her son, she broke into tears. She handled the paper with such tenderness, as though it were a part of her son himself. Her son was abducted by a para military group in 1989 and never returned.
These two stories have remained deeply etched in my mind for several years, leaving a lasting impact. Now, with the release of the Batalanda Commission Report, which sheds light on the atrocities committed during a dark chapter of Sri Lanka’s history, coupled with the release of the movie ‘Rani’, there is renewed attention on enforced disappearances. These disappearances, which were once shrouded in silence and denial, are now gaining significant traction among the public. Thus, it is timely to discuss the stories of enforced disappearances and the political dynamics surrounding them.
The Effect
Enforced disappearance is often employed as a strategy of terror, deliberately designed to instil fear and insecurity within a society. The tactic goes beyond the direct impact on the immediate family members of the disappeared individuals. The psychological and emotional toll on these families is profound, as they are left with uncertainty, grief, and often a sense of helplessness. However, the effects of enforced disappearance extend far beyond these immediate circles. It creates a pervasive atmosphere of fear that affects entire communities, undermining trust and cohesion. The mere threat of disappearance looms over the population, causing widespread anxiety and eroding the sense of safety that is essential for the social fabric to thrive. The fear it engenders forces people into silence, discourages activism, and ultimately weakens the collective spirit of resistance against injustice.
Absence of the body
For years, the families and loved ones of the disappeared hold on to a fragile hope, clinging to the belief that their loved ones may still be alive. The absence of a physical body leaves room for uncertainty and unresolved grief, creating a painful paradox where the possibility of closure remains out of reach. Without the tangible proof of death—such as a body to bury or mourn over—the search continues, driven by the hope that one day they will find answers. This absence extends beyond just the physical body; it symbolizes the void left in the lives of the families, as they are left in a perpetual state of waiting, unable to fully mourn or heal. The constant uncertainty fuels a never-ending cycle of searching, questioning, and longing.
Making a spectacle of unidentified bodies
In 1989, as a small child, I found myself surrounded by an atmosphere that was both suffocating and frightening, filled with sights and sounds that I couldn’t fully comprehend at the time, but that would forever leave a mark on my memory. I can still vividly recall the smell of burning rubber that hung thick in the air, mixing with the acrid scent of smoke that lingered long after the flames had died down. The piles of tyres, set ablaze, were a regular feature of the streets where I lived. Yet, it wasn’t just the sight of the burning tyres that etched itself into my consciousness. As the flames raged on, the shadows of bodies emerged—neither completely visible nor entirely hidden.
Though my parents tried their best to shield me from the horror outside our home, I would sneak a peek whenever I thought no one was watching, desperate to understand the meaning behind what was unfolding before me. It was as though I knew something important was happening—something I couldn’t yet comprehend but could feel in the very air I breathed. I understood that the flames, the smoke, and the bodies all signified something far greater than I could put into words.
The burning piles of tyres—and, of course, bodies—which people spoke of in hushed tones, served as a chilling spectacle, conveying the threatening message the government sent to the public, especially targeting the young rebels and anyone who dared to challenge the state
Unable to seek justice
The absence of the body makes justice seem like a distant, unreachable concept. In cases of disappearance, where no physical evidence of the victim’s fate exists, the path to justice is often blocked. Without the body, there is no concrete proof of the crime, no tangible evidence that can be presented in court, and no clear sign that a crime was even committed. This leaves families and loved ones of the disappeared in a state of uncertainty, with no clear answers about what happened to their dear ones. As a result, families are forced to live in a limbo, where their grief is ignored and their calls for justice are silenced.
Undemocratic actions under a Democratic Government
Governments are meant to serve and protect the people who elect them, not to subject them to violence, fear, or oppression. Irrespective of the situation, no government, under any circumstances, has the right to make its citizens disappear. A government is a democratically elected body that holds its power and authority through the consent of the governed, with the explicit responsibility to safeguard the rights, freedoms, and lives of its citizens. When a government starts to take actions that involve the arbitrary killing or disappearance of its own people, it betrays the very principles it was founded upon.
The act of making people disappear and killing represents a fundamental breach of human rights and the rule of law. These are not actions that belong to a legitimate government that is accountable to its people. Instead, they signal a state that has become corrupt and tyrannical, where those in power are no longer bound by any ethical or legal standards. When the government becomes the perpetrator of violence against its own citizens, it destroys the trust between the state and the people, undermining the core foundation of democracy.
In such a scenario, the authority of law collapses. Courts become powerless, and law enforcement agencies are either complicit in the wrongdoing or rendered ineffective. This breakdown in legal authority does not just mean a failure to protect the rights of individuals; it signals the descent of society into anarchy. When the government wields power in such a violent and oppressive way, it erodes the social contract. When this relationship is violated through actions like disappearances, those in power essentially declare that they are above the law, which leads to a breakdown of social order. It no longer becomes a state that works for its people but rather a regime that rules through fear, repression, and violence.
by Dr. Anushka Kahandagamage
Features
Hazard warning lights at Lotus Tower

Much has been written about the use of Hazard Warning Lights at Lotus Tower (LT)
Now it looks as if the authorities have got the day and night in a ‘twist’.
During the day time LT is in darkness. What should be ‘on’ during the day are the High Intensity Strobe Lights. It is observed that the authorities switch them ‘on’ in the night instead!
According to the ICAO recommendations what should be ‘on’ in the night are the low intensity strobe lights. High intensity in the night as is now, can momentarily blind the pilots.
At this time of the year the island experiences afternoon thunder showers which make the LT and the natural horizon invisible. (See picture) in a phenomenon known as ‘white out’ caused by fog (low cloud), mist and rain. However, the LT is kept dark and not lit up and that could be dangerous to air traffic.
In short what is needed are white strobe lights 24/7 (day and night). High Intensity by day and Low Intensity at night. They are known as ‘attention getters’.
The red lights must be ‘on’ at sunset and ‘off’ by sunrise (as correctly carried out currently).
I am aware that the Organisation of Professional Associations (OPA) has written to the LT authorities at the request of the Association of Airline Pilots, Sri Lanka, about three months ago but strangely the OPA has not even received an acknowledgement!
GUWAN SEEYA
Features
Ninth Iftar celebration organised by Police Buddhist and Religious Affairs Association, Wellawatte

Islam is a peaceful religion that guides people to fulfil the five pillars of Islam, namely, Kalima, Prayer, Sakkath, Fasting and Hajj and through them to attain the grace of God.
The fact that the Holy Quran, the sacred book of Muslims, was revealed on one of the odd nights of the month of Ramadan, makes people realize the special importance of the month of Ramadan.
Fasting, the Holy Quran states, “0 you who believe, fasting is prescribed for you as it was prescribed for those before you, that you may become pure.” (2.183)
Muslims observe the first fast in the early hours of the evening when the first crescent of the month of Ramadan is sighted. The special feature of Ramadan fasting is to wake up early in the morning, eat before the sunrise (Sahur) and then fast for 14 hours until the evening prayer (Mahrib), remember the Creator and worship Him five times a day, break the fast at the time of Iftar (Mahrib), eat food with dates and spend the 30 days of Ramadan.
Ramadan fasting increases fear and faith in Allah, and it is not equal for the wealthy to live luxuriously without realizing the poverty of the poor and the poor to die of poverty. Therefore, fasting has been emphasized as the fourth Pillar in Islam to make the rich aware of the nature of poverty and to make the rich aware of the nature of hunger and to give charity.
Ramadan fasting is a shield for Muslims. The main objectives of fasting are the virtues, characteristics, morality and spiritual attraction of a person.
When approaching fasting from a medical perspective, it is said that ‘a disease-free life is an inexhaustible wealth’, so the good deed of fasting provides great benefits to the body.
Generally, it is a universal law to give rest to all the machines that have power. That is, it allows the machines to continue to function well. Similarly, it is necessary to give rest to our bodies. The fasting of the month of Ramadan explains this very simply.
“Historically, fasting has been proven to be very safe for most people,” says Babar Basir, a cardiologist at Henry Ford Health in Detroit, USA. “Ramadan fasting is a form of intermittent fasting that can help you lose fat without losing muscle, improve insulin levels, burn fat, and increase human growth hormone,” he says.
All wealthy. Muslims are required to give 2’/2 percent of their annual income to the poor in charity. This is why Muslims give more charity in the form of money, food, and clothing during Ramadan.
Anas (Kali) reported that the Prophet (Sal) said, “The best charity is to feed a hungry person.” This shows how great an act it is to feed a hungry person.
Fasting during the holy month of Ramadan, one of the most sacred duties of Muslims, is Providing facilities for fasting and breaking it is also a pious act that brings benefits. In that way, the Sri Lanka Police, as a way of receiving the blessings of Allah, have organized the Police Iftar ceremony to break the fast for the fasting people.
The Police Iftar ceremony, which is organized annually by the Sri Lanka Police Buddhist and Religious Affairs Association for Muslim police officers serving in the Sri Lanka Police, will be held for the 9th time this year on the 24th at the invitation of the Acting Inspector General of Police Mr. Priyantha Weerasooriya and will be held at the Marine Grand Reception Hall in Wellawatte under the participation of the Hon. Minister of Public Security and Parliamentary Affairs Mr. K.M. Ananda Wijepala. Muslim members of Parliament, Foreign Ambassadors of Islamic countries, High-ranking Police officers and Muslim Police officers, as well as members of the public, are also expected to attend the Iftar ceremony.
a.f. fUARD
Chief Inspector of Police
International Affairs
Criminal Investigation Department
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