Features

“I offer to resign” on Premadasa’s allegations of cabinet leaks and the 1962 coup d’etat

Published

3 years ago

2023/10/8

(Excerpted from Memoirs of a Cabinet Secretary by BP Peiris)

At about this time, one Premadasa (later President R. Premadasa), a UNP member of the Colombo Municipal Council, whom I did not know and whom I had not met or seen, made a speech in one of our public parks where he stated that, within five minutes of the conclusion of Sirimavo’s Cabinet meetings, the UNP had a full account of the discussions and the decisions reached at the meeting, but went on to add that they did not get their information from Cabinet officials.

I thoughts it was extremely kind of the gentlemen to pay me and my staff this unsolicited compliment. The next day the Times of Ceylon carried the speech on its front page, including the compliment paid to us. A few days later, a friend asked me whether I had read the attack on me in the Tribune, a paper to which I did not subscribe and did not read. He lent me his copy. The line that the Tribune took was that both Premadasa and the Times of Ceylon were wrong in their information, that Cabinet secrets leaked to the UNP through the top official (myself) in the Cabinet office, who “haunted the pub on the fringe of Colombo 1” – a reference to the Automobile Association of Ceylon of which I was an Honorary Life Member and a member of the Bar and Entertainments Committee – and that it was at this pub that the leaks took place.

The writer went on to add that, if the leaks were to be stopped, the top official should be removed. I was not going to take this insult lying down. A few minutes before the next Cabinet meeting, I told the Prime Minister the gist of the article and that I would not be attending the meeting if she had no confidence in me. I said I would resign. She said “Don’t be silly, Mr Peiris”. I told her that I was not placing on her the burden of coming to a decision and obtained her permission to raise the matter of confidence before the entire Cabinet.

When the Cabinet met, she informed the Ministers that I had a personal matter to raise, and when I finished reading the article aloud and said that I was prepared to go immediately to Queen’s House with my resignation, the following conversation took place between Felix Dias and myself:

F. D. Mr Peiris, why do you assume that the article refers to you?

B. P. Sir, I am the top official of the Cabinet Office, and the reference to the pub on the fringe of Colombo 1 is to the Automobile Association of which I am a member and which I visit fairly frequently.

F. D. Mr Peiris, don’t believe everything you read in the newspapers these days. I speak for the entire Cabinet when I say that we have absolute confidence in your integrity and loyalty.

B. P. Sir, I thank you for that. The matter may therefore be regarded as closed. And so, I continued as an officer of the Cabinet.

Towards the end of 1961, there was a whisper of a series of strikes planned for the new year with a view to paralyzing the Government. Strikes in the public and private sector took place on January 5, 1962. Valuable equipment at Radio Ceylon was damaged and army technicians were put on the job of restoring the radio and transmissions. The strike spread to the Port of Colombo, the Transport Board and the commercial banks, and the Cabinet was meeting almost daily to review the situation to prevent it spreading, particularly to the plantations. The Governor-General, a former Civil Defence Commissioner, was again given complete control of operations.

In the midst of its other problems, the Government had to meet a new situation. In the late Prime Minister’s assassination case, the trial judge had convicted one accused of murder and two others of conspiracy to murder, and had sentenced all three accused to death. On appeal, the Court of Criminal Appeal, on an interpretation of the law, converted the sentence on the charge of conspiracy, from death to one of life imprisonment. The Government was annoyed. It decided that the law should be clearly stated with retrospective effect, namely, that the penalty for conspiracy to murder should be, not life imprisonment, but death.

The Capital Punishment (Special Provisions) Bill was accordingly drafted by the Legal Draftsman under vehement protest and presented in the House of Representatives. It was expected that all three readings would be moved in one day and the item was placed at the top of the Order Paper. A week later this dropped to the bottom because all the accused appealed to the Privy Council. The Crown did the same. Both applications were for special leave to appeal and leave was refused in both cases. The matter became stale and, I believe, the Bill was allowed to lapse.

Another amazing proposal came before the Cabinet in February 1962.1 referred earlier to the continuance in force of certain emergency regulations to enable the detention of certain persons suspected of being connected with a coup to overthrow the Government. It was in the previous month, January, that the proposed coup had failed because someone, at the last moment, got the jitters and spilt the beans. At midnight, a Deputy Inspector-General of Police was arrested. In the succeeding days, other arrests of top ranking officers of the Army, Navy, Police, Civil Service and a few civilians followed. The total number arrested was twenty-nine.

How were they to be tried and what was the punishment to be meted out to them? In some countries today I suppose they would have been shot without trial. But here, Sirimavo had assured the people that she was following the policies of her late husband and that her government was democratic with an admixture of socialism. The Government decided to make drastic and unusual changes in the law.

I have never seen a man more unhappy than Percy de Silva, the Legal Draftsman, who was at this time, preparing, with angry curses under his breath, draft after draft, as fresh instructions, not always consistent one with another, reached him daily from the Government.

Here is a summary of the changes in the law which the Legal Draftsman was directed to put into proper legal form. Instead of a trial by jury, there should be a Trial-at-Bar, that is, a trial before three Judges of the Supreme Court sitting without a jury. There should be no preliminary magisterial inquiry and proceedings should be initiated in the Supreme Court. A Bench is normally appointed by the Chief Justice but, in this case, that power should be vested in the Minister of Justice. The penalty for the offence might be a sentence of death. Bail should be refused unless authorized by the Attorney-General. Confessions made to police officers should be made admissible in evidence.

The trial against any of the accused persons could be commenced and continued in his absence. The judgment of the Court should be declared to be final, and the right of the accused, if convicted, to appeal to the Court of Criminal Appeal should be taken away. The right of the subject to appeal to Her Majesty would also have been taken away if the Government only had the power. And, when everything was over and the accused had been convicted (or acquitted) these new changes in the law should cease to have any effect and the old law should automatically revive.

This atrocious piece of draft legislation shook the lawyers both in Hultsdorp and the outstations who still had respect for the sanctity of the law and for fair play and justice. After these proposals had been discussed by the Cabinet and finally approved, the Legal Draftsman was given two days time to prepare the complicated piece of legislation.

Wild rumours were gathering momentum involving the Governor-General Sir Oliver Goonetilleke, Dudley Senanayake, Sir John and anyone else on whom the scandalmongers desired to use the tar brush. At the Cabinet meeting just referred to, the Prime Minister asked me whether the Governor-General had inquired from me whether he had the power to dissolve Parliament without her advice. How this got out I do not know. I can only assume that the conversation that the Governor-General had with me on the telephone had been tapped. And that was not the first time he had discussed matters constitutional with me.

I told the Prime Minister that that was not what the Governor-General had asked me. He had asked me to look up my books and let him know whether he had the constitutional power to dismiss his Prime Minister and his entire Cabinet and I had advised him that he had such power but would have to find, without going to a general election, an alternative government which would take responsibility for his decision to dismiss. The Prime Minister asked me how long ago that was and I said it was about three months. She asked me what his reason could be for asking me the question.

I told her that when the Governor-General asked me a question, it was not open to me to ask him another, that he had put constitutional questions to me before, and that it was probably because he thought that I knew my subject. In a ruminative mood at home, it struck me that, some months before, W. Dahanayake, M. P. had made a public speech to the effect that the country was going to the dogs because of mismanagement by the Government and that it was time that the Governor-General sacked the whole bunch and formed a National Government. On inquiry from the newspapers, I was told that this speech was published in the Times of Ceylon of October 2, 1961, and I told the Prime Minister so; it did not appear to me have any connection with the coup.

On February 13, Felix Dias, Minister of Finance, made what he called a factual statement on the coup d’etat, He stated that the whole purpose of the coup was undoubtedly to overthrow the Government on the night of January 27. The statement continued: “The Government takes a very serious view of the abortive coup d’ etat. It is a comforting thought that most of the regular units of the army were unaffected by the spirit of disloyalty that manifested itself among certain officers who have been involved. In the Police too, it is fortunate that a large number of loyal officers remain who are capable of giving valuable service to the Government at this critical time. It is particularly satisfactory that the majority of the rank and file, both in the army and in the police remain completely loyal to the Government and the country.”

He added that the opportunity must not however be lost to effect complete and radical reforms in the Police Service, in the Armed Services and indeed in the public service. Many Army officers and Police officers who had participated in the coup had bitterly regretted their action and one army officer committed suicide in consequence of his participation. It was essential that deterrent punishment of a severe character should be imposed upon all those who were guilty of this attempt to inflict violence and bloodshed on innocent people throughout the country for pursuit of reactionary aims and objectives. The investigations would therefore proceed to their logical end. The Government was determined to do its duty by the people.

In view of this factual statement and the floating rumours, Sir Oliver voluntarily submitted himself to interrogation, but the Police did not dare to question Her Majesty’s representative. My own humble opinion at the time was that the step he took was most unbecoming of the office he held and the respect due to him. Efforts were now made to remove him from office. It was said that the Queen’s permission had been sought to question the Governor-General on the part he was alleged to have taken in the coup, and that a reply had been received that such a procedure would be unusual and unconventional. The next move was to have the Governor-General removed from office.

Here, the Queen had to act on the advice of Her Prime Minister of Ceylon and the Prime Minister advised removal. At very short notice, Sir Oliver’s successor was announced from the Palace – Mr William Gopallawa, M.B.E., our Ambassador in Washington. Whatever Sir Oliver’s other faults may have been, there was no doubt that he carried his office with great dignity during his long term of nearly eight years as the Queen’s representative in the land. After a long and unique record of distinguished service to his country in many capacities, he took his final bow and left Queen’s House on March 1, 1962.

The new Governor-General was sworn in the next day. His Excellency announced that he would give up the trappings of office, that is, the official uniform, the helmet and plumes, the sword and medals, and that he would wear a plain cloth and banian.

It was said that the Queen’s permission was again sought to question Sir Oliver after he ceased to be Governor-General and that the Government had received a reply from a constitutional sovereign that she was unable to intervene in a matter between the Government of Ceylon and a private citizen but that she hoped that no steps would be taken which would bring dishonour on the high office of Governor-General in view of possible repercussions in other parts of Her Commonwealth. The Government ordered that Queen’s House staff should be questioned first and that Sir John Kotelawala, Mr Dudley Senanayake, Mr J. R. Jayewardene, Mr Philip Gunawardena and Dr N. M. Perera be also questioned.

I was then asked whether I had any objection to making a statement to the police regarding Sir Oliver’s question to me about his constitutional powers in the dismissal of a cabinet. I said I had none and my statement was recorded on February 28,1962. I was placed in the most embarrassing position because the Prime Minister told me that my statement to the Police had been shown to Sir Oliver, who then had made a statement somewhat as follows:

I have known Peiris from the days when I was Civil Defence Commissioner and he was an Assistant Legal Draftsman. He is a straight and honest man of unquestioned integrity. If Peiris says that I spoke to him on the telephone and asked him this question, I will accept his statement as true. But the fact is that I did not speak to Peiris. It is quite likely that someone else put the question to him imitating my voice.

Sir Oliver, on relinquishing office, left Ceylon on a well-deserved holiday. The Hindu of March 2, 1962, carried the following editorial:

The cryptic announcement from Colombo of the appointment of Mr Gopallawa as the Governor-General of Ceylon in succession to Sir Oliver Goonetilleke only serves to deepen the mystery surrounding the Island’s affairs for some time. Stringent Press censorship has made matters worse and it may be anybody’s guess what is happening and why. There has been no announcement so far that Sir Oliver, an elder statesman commanding considerable respect within the country and outside, had offered to resign. When his name was stated to have been mentioned by suspects interrogated in connection with the recent reported attempt at a coup d’etat, he had offered to be questioned.

The Government spokesman who should have known the facts expressed disbelief in the suggestion that the Governor-General had anything to do with the attempted coup and apparently viewed with disfavour Opposition demands for his removal. He had mentioned that the Queen had been informed by cable of the position. The Governor-General of Ceylon is appointed by Her Majesty, and, under the 1947 Order in Council, may exercise in the Island, during her Majesty’s pleasure, such powers, authorities and functions as are assigned to him. His appointment is also to be made on the advice of the Prime Minister of the Dominion.

Are we to infer that a sufficiently strong case exists for the Ceylon Government to advise the Queen to order the removal from office of Sir Oliver and the appointment of a successor recommended by the Ceylon Prime Minister? Since other prominent names are also said to have been mentioned by suspects, notably Sir John Kotelawala and Mr Dudley Senanayake, former Prime Ministers, the drastic action in one case can only set speculation rife and add to the prevailing uncertainty in the Island.

The long and heated debate in the Ceylon House of Representatives a fortnight ago has been the only source of information from which any inference could be drawn about the attempted coup and its possible ramifications. And sections of the Opposition did not waste this opportunity to make political points of “right” and “left”. With censorship clamped down, and the prolonged emergency, the people of Ceylon are perhaps the most mystified by the extraordinary developments in the country.

From the assassination of Prime Minister Bandaranaike two years ago to the unprecedented removal from office of the Governor-General this week, it has been a crisis to crisis existence for the hard-pressed Island. The people can well see in the recent developments not only a threat to the stability of the Island’s administration, but to their democratic right to choose their Government and remove it. If inflation, unemployment and a strike-wave had struck at their economic well-being, the attempted coup and the subsequent emergency Bill seeking to bypass judicial processes and the rule of law should be causes for even greater disquiet.

It is no doubt the prime duty of the Government to unearth the conspiracy to overthrow the Government by force, if there had been such a one. But in the process, all care should be taken to preserve the spirit as well as the letter of democracy, and also steer the country clear of any kind of involvement in cold war politics. The suggestion of foreign inspiration for the coup has been here, but so many suggestions have been made in this context, some mostly tactical, that one would hope this too belongs to that category.

And now, the Bill to deal with the coup suspects, which the Legal Draftsman was asked to prepare within two days, was presented in Parliament under the title of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Bill. It was severely criticized by all parties of the Opposition. Those in favour of the Bill argued that our former British masters did not foresee a situation where evil men would conspire to arrest the Prime Minister and other ministers and confine them in a dungeon, and that it was necessary to bring the law up to date.

Against this, it was asked why it was proposed to change the law, to empower the Minister of Justice instead of the Chief Justice to nominate the Bench for the proposed Trial-at-Bar. One member of Parliament pleaded that, for the sake of the integrity of our courts of law, the normal process of the selection of the Bench should be left to the discretion of the Chief Justice. The Honourable member for Galle pointed out that you may not be able to stop an appeal to the Queen.

It was also pointed out in Parliament that what the Government was trying to do was to enact a new offence, relate it back to the time of the commission of the offence, and charge the offenders. One remember commented “If this Bill gets into the Statute Book in the form in which it is presented, we would become the laughing stock of the World. It is possible that this matter might be taken up by the United Nations or by the International Jurists or even by our constitutional experts.”

On behalf of the Government, Finance Minister Felix Dias admitted that there were many things in the Bill of an unusual character. He appealed to the members not to oppose the Bill. The debate dragged on.

The General Council of Advocates in Ceylon passed the following resolution:

The General Council of Advocates in Ceylon vehemently opposes the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Bill in that

(1) it removes the safeguards which are designed to ensure as far as possible a fair investigation and a fair trial;

(2) it empowers the Minister of Justice to choose a Bench of Judges for a particular case; and

(3) it deprives an accused person of the cherished and fundamental right of appeal.

The Bill, after a long debate, was passed by both Houses and came on the Statute Book as the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act, No 1 of 1962.

The International Commission of Jurists in Geneva took notice of the new law. They expressed “profound concern” at legislation in Ceylon following the alleged attempted coup. Many of the provisions of this Law, they said, were entirely contrary to the generally accepted principles of the rule of law. The Commission asked permission for an observer to attend the trials, expected shortly, of those arrested in connection with the coup. The Commission noted that investigations into the coup were being conducted by members of the Cabinet themselves with police approval. They added that, apart from the irregularity of this procedure, a specially passed emergency regulation prohibited the persons arrested from being visited by lawyers.

Sir Leslie Munro, Secretary-General of the Commission, commented on some features of the law which were open to criticism. These included the retrospective nature of the law, the provision that hearsay evidence may be taken into account and denial of the right of appeal.

I pointed out to the Cabinet that the validity of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act was likely to be contested in court as the Act

one Official Language from January 1, 1961 ( the point was raised at the first trial). If the point succeeded, all the “culprits” would escape. And, if the point was upheld in one case, it would apply to all the other laws passed since January 1,1961. The Cabinet thanked me for bringing the matter to their notice, left an agenda of forty-two items aside, and discussed the problem.

Ministers said that they could not take a risk in this case and that, if there were any doubts as regards the correctness of the law, the doubts ought to be removed by fresh legislation. After, discussion, the Minister of Justice was told to a have Bill drafted immediately to clarify the position. The Bill was drafted, the Parliamentary Session was about to come to an end, and the Government hesitated to present the Bill because of its serious political implications. The Bill validated all Acts passed in English and proposed to enact that “Notwithstanding anything in any other law, the English language may continue to be used for the purpose of drafting legislation to be enacted after the date of the commencement of this Act until such date as my be determined by the Cabinet of Ministers”.

The Opposition and the Tamil community would have been given a powerful weapon for attacking the Government. Why was the Bill restricted to the English language? Why not the Tamil language? Is the Official Language Act unenforceable, and if it is impracticable to enforce it, why not repeal it? And numerous other arguments with the only object of embarrassing the Government.

The Prime Minister, a blunt and outspoken woman said “This is what happens when we try to go too fast”. Felix Dias said that he had consulted the Attorney-General Jansze who had advised “Let lying dogs sleep” meaning, do not introduce the Bill. Some of the Ministers attacked the bona fides of the Attorney-General in giving that opinion. They thought that the Attorney-General was trying to leave a loophole to allow the coup suspects to escape. One Minister attacked his honesty as being anti-Government.

I have known Jansze for several years. He was an honest, upright and God-fearing man, an honest and honourable lawyer who did not hesitate to give his opinion on a matter of law and did not care whether that opinion suited the party asking it or not. In view of the Attorney-General’s opinion, the Government decided not to proceed with the Bill.

Under the new Act, No. 1 of 1962, the Minister of Justice, named the Judges for the Trial-at-Bar of the coup suspects – T. S. Fernando, L. B. de Silva and Sri Skanda Rajah. Charges were served on the accused and the preliminary steps taken to hold the trial.

At the trial, Attorney-General Jansze led for the Crown with Solicitor-General Tennekoon and several Crown Counsel. For the defence, there appeared G. G. Ponnambalam, E. G. Wickramanayake, H. W. Jayewardene, A. H. C. de Silva, all Queen’s Counsel, supported by an array of juniors. It was rumoured that defence counsel were appearing pro deo. Objection was taken to the jurisdiction of the court on the ground that it was wrongly constituted and the objection was upheld. The Judges proved, if proof were at all necessary, that the Supreme Court is not and never had been, a stooge of the Executive. In upholding the objection, the court said:

For reasons which we have endeavoured to indicate above, we are of opinion that because:

(a) the power of nomination conferred on the Minister is an interference

with the exercise by the Judges of the Supreme Court of the strict judicial power of the State vested in them by virtue of their appointment in terms of section 52 of the Ceylon (Constitution) Order in Council, 1946, or in derogation thereof, and

(b) the power of nomination is one which has hitherto been invariably exercised by the Judicature as being part of the exercise of the judicial power of the State, and cannot be reposed in anyone outside the Judicature, Section 9 of the Criminal Law (Special Provisions) Act, No. 1 of 1962, is ultra vires the Constitution.

(To be continued)

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The NPP Government is more than a JVP offspring:

Published

5 days ago

2026/04/12

Thilina Walpola

Rohana Wijeweera

It is also different from all past governments as it faces new and different challenges

No one knows whether the already broken ceasefire between the US and Iran, with Israel as a reluctant adjunct, will last the full 10 days, or what will come thereafter. The world’s economic woes are not over and the markets are yo-yoing in response to Trump’s twitches and Iran’s gate keeping at the Strait of Hormuz. The gloomy expert foretelling is that full economic normalcy will not return until the year is over even if the war were to end with the ceasefire. That means continuing challenges for Sri Lanka and more of the tough learning in the art of governing for the NPP.

The NPP government has been doing what most governments in Asia have been doing to cope with the current global crisis, which is also an Asian crisis insofar as oil supplies and other supply chains are concerned. What the government can and must do additionally is to be totally candid with the people and keep them informed of everything that it is doing – from monitoring import prices to the timely arranging of supplies, all the details of tender, the tracking of arrivals, and keeping the distribution flow through the market without bottlenecks. That way the government can eliminate upstream tender rackets and downstream hoarding swindles. People do not expect miracles from their government, only honest, sincere and serious effort in difficult circumstances. Backed up by clear communication and constant public engagement.

But nothing is going to stop the flow of criticisms against the NPP government. That is a fact of Sri Lankan politics. Even though the opposition forces are weak and have little traction and even less credibility, there has not been any drought in the criticisms levelled against the still fledgling government. These criticisms can be categorized as ideological, institutional and oppositional criticisms, with each category having its own constituency and/or commentators. The three categories invariably overlap and there are instances of criticisms that excite only the pundits but have no political resonance.

April 5 anniversary nostalgia

There is also a new line of criticism that might be inspired by the April 5 anniversary nostalgia for the 1971 JVP insurrection. This new line traces the NPP government to the distant roots of the JVP – its April 1965 founding “in a working-class home in Akmeemana, Galle” by a 22-year old Rohana Wijeweera and seven others; the short lived 1971 insurrection that was easily defeated; and the much longer and more devastating second (1987 to 1989) insurrection that led to the elimination of the JVP’s frontline leaders including Wijeweera, and brought about a change in the JVP’s political direction with commitment to parliamentary democracy. So far, so good, as history goes.

But where the nostalgic narrative starts to bend is in attempting a straight line connection from the 1965 Akmeemana origins of the JVP to the national electoral victories of the NPP in 2024. And the bend gets broken in trying to bridge the gap between the “founding anti-imperialist economics” of the JVP and the practical imperatives of the NPP government in “governing a debt-laden small open economy.” Yet this line of criticism differs from the other lines of criticism that I have alluded to, but more so for its moral purpose than for its analytical clarity. The search for clarity could begin with question – why is the NPP government more than a JVP offspring? The answer is not so simple, but it is also not too complicated.

For starters, the JVP was a political response to the national and global conditions of the 1960s and 1970s, piggybacking socialism on the bandwagon of ethno-nationalism in a bi-polar world that was ideologically split between status quo capitalism and the alternative of socialism. The NPP government, on the other hand, is not only a response to, but is also a product of the conditions of the 2010s and 2020s. The twain cannot be more different. Nothing is the same between then and now, locally and globally.

A pragmatic way to look at the differences between the origins of the JVP and the circumstances of the NPP government is to look at the very range of criticisms that are levelled against the NPP government. What I categorize as ideological criticisms include criticisms of the government’s pro-IMF and allegedly neo-liberal economic policies, as well as the government’s foreign policy stances – on Israel, on the current US-Israel war against Iran, the geopolitics of the Indian Ocean, and the apparent closeness to the Modi government in India. These criticisms emanate from the non-JVP left and Sinhala Buddhist nationalists.

Strands of nationalism

To digress briefly, there are several strands in the overall bundle of Sri Lankan nationalism. There is the liberal inclusive strand, the left-progressive strand, the exclusive Sinhala Buddhist Nationalist (SBN) strand, and the defensive strands of minority nationalisms. Given Sri Lanka’s historical political formations and alliances, much overlapping goes on between the different strands. The overlapping gets selective on an issue by issue basis, which in itself is not unwelcome insofar as it promotes plurality in place of exclusivity.

Historically as well, and certainly after 1956, the SBN strand has been the dominant strand of nationalism in Sri Lanka and has had the most influential say in every government until now. Past versions of the JVP frequently straddled the dominant SBN space. Currently, however, the dominant SBN strand is in one of its more dormant phases and the NPP government could be a reason for the current dormancy. This is an obvious difference between the old JVP and the new NPP.

A second set of criticisms, or institutional criticisms, emanate from political liberals and human rights activists and these are about the NPP government’s actions or non-actions in regard to constitutional changes, the future of the elected executive presidency, the status of provincial devolution and the timing of provincial council elections, progress on human rights issues, the resolution of unfinished postwar businesses including the amnesia over mass graves. These criticisms and the issues they represent are also in varying ways the primary concerns of the island’s Tamils, Muslims and the Malaiyaka (planntationn) Tamils. As with the overlapping between the left and the non-minority nationalists, there is also overlapping between the liberal activists and minority representatives.

A third category includes what might be called oppositional criticisms and they counterpose the JVP’s past against the NPP’s present, call into question the JVP’s commitment to multi-party democracy and raise alarms about a creeping constitutional dictatorship. This category also includes criticisms of the NPP government’s lack of governmental experience and competence; alleged instances of abuse of power, mismanagement and even corruption; alleged harassment of past politicians; and the failure to find the alleged mastermind behind the 2019 Easter bombings. At a policy and implementational level, there have been criticisms of the government’s educational reforms and electricity reforms, the responses to cyclone Ditwah, and the current global oil and economic crises. The purveyors of oppositional criticisms are drawn from the general political class which includes political parties, current and past parliamentarians, as well as media pundits.

Criticisms as expectations

What is common to all three categories of criticisms is that they collectively represent what were understood to be promises by the NPP before the elections, and have become expectations of the NPP government after the elections. It is the range and nature of these criticisms and the corresponding expectations that make the NPP government a lot more than a mere JVP offspring, and significantly differentiate it from every previous government.

The deliverables that are expected of the NPP government were never a part of the vocabulary of the original JVP platform and programs. The very mode of parliamentary politics was ideologically anathema to the JVP of Akmeemana. And there was no mention of or concern for minority rights, or constitutional reforms. On foreign policy, it was all India phobia without Anglo mania – a halfway variation of Sri Lanka’s mainstream foreign policy of Anglo mania and India phobia. For a party of the rural proletariat, the JVP was virulently opposed to the plantation proletariat. The JVP’s version of anti-imperialist economics would hardly have excited the Sri Lankan electorate at any time, and certainly not at the present time.

At the same time, the NPP government is also the only government that has genealogical antecedents to a political movement or organization like the JVP. That in itself makes the NPP government unique among Sri Lanka’s other governments. The formation of the NPP is the culmination of the evolution of the JVP that began after the second insurrection with the shedding of political violence, acceptance of political plurality and commitment to electoral democracy.

But the evolution was not entirely a process of internal transformation. It was also a response to a rapidly and radically changing circumstances both within Sri Lanka and beyond. This evolution has not been a rejection of the founding socialist purposes of the JVP in 1968, but their adaptation in the endless political search, under constantly changing conditions, for a non-violent, socialist and democratic framework that would facilitate the full development of the human potential of all Sri Lankans.

The burden of expectations is unmistakable, but what is also remarkable is their comprehensiveness and the NPP’s formal commitment to all of them at the same time. No previous government shouldered such an extensive burden or showed such a willing commitment to each and every one of the expectations. In the brewing global economic crisis, the criticisms, expectations and the priorities of the government will invariably be focussed on keeping the economy alive and alleviating the day-to-day difficulties of millions of Sri Lankan families. While what the NPP government can and must do may not differ much from what other Asian governments – from Pakistan to Vietnam – are doing, it could and should do better than what any and all past Sri Lankan governments did when facing economic challenges.

by Rajan Philips

Features

A Fragile Ceasefire: Pakistan’s Glory and Israel’s Sabotage

Published

5 days ago

2026/04/12

Thilina Walpola

Smokes over Beirut: Israel’s Ceasefire Attack on Hezbollah in Lebanon

After threatening to annihilate one of the planet’s oldest civilizations, TACO* Trump chickened out again by grasping the ceasefire lifeline that Pakistan had assiduously prepared. Trump needed the ceasefire badly to stem the mounting opposition to the war in America. Israeli Prime Minister Netanyahu wanted the war to continue because he needed it badly for his political survival. So, he contrived a fiction and convinced Trump that Lebanon is not included in the ceasefire. Trump as usual may not have noticed that Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Shariff had clearly indicated Lebanon’s inclusion in his announcement of the ceasefire at 7:50 PM, Tuesday, on X. Ten minutes before Donald Trump’s fake deadline.

True to form on Wednesday, Israel unleashed the heaviest assault by far on Lebanon, reportedly killing over 300 people, the highest single-day death toll in the current war. Iran responded by re-closing the Strait of Hormuz and questioning the need for talks in Islamabad over the weekend. There were other incidents as well, with an oil refinery attacked in Iran, and Iranian drones and missiles slamming oil and gas infrastructure in UAE, Saudi Arabia, Bahrain and Qatar.

The US tried to insist that Lebanon is not part of the ceasefire, with the argumentative US Vice President JD Vance, who was in Budapest, Hungary, campaigning for Viktor Orban, calling the whole thing a matter of “bad faith negotiation” as well as “legitimate misunderstanding” on the part of Iran, and warning Iran that “it would be dumb to jeopardise its ceasefire with Washington over Israel’s attacks in Lebanon.”

But as the attack in Lebanon drew international condemnation – from Pope Leo to UN Secretary General António Guterres, and several world leaders, and amidst fears of Lebanon becoming another Gaza with 1,500 people including 130 children killed and more than a million people displaced, Washington got Israel to stop its “lawn mowing” in southern Lebanon.

Prime Minister Benjamin Netanyahu agreed to “open direct negotiations with Lebanon as soon as possible,”. Lebanese President Joeseph Aoun has also called for “a ceasefire between Israel and Lebanon, followed by direct negotiations between them.” Israel’s involvement in Lebanon remains a wild card that threatens the ceasefire and could scuttle the talks between the US and Iran scheduled for Saturday in Islamabad.

Losers and Winners

After the ceasefire, both the Trump Administration and Iran have claimed total victories while the Israeli government wants the war to continue. The truth is that after more than a month into nonstop bombing of Iran, America and Israel have won nothing. Only Iran has won something it did not have when Trump and Netanyahu started their war. Iran now has not only a say over but control of the Strait of Hormuz. The ceasefire acknowledges this. Both Trump and Netanyahu are under fire in their respective countries and have no allies in the world except one another.

The real diplomatic winner is Pakistan. Salman Rushdie’s palimpsest-country has emerged as a key player in global politics and an influential mediator in a volatile region. Pakistan’s Prime Minister Shehbaz Sharif and Chief of Defence Field Marshal Asim Munir have both been praised by President Trump and credited for achieving the current ceasefire. The Iranian regime has also been effusive in its praise of Pakistan’s efforts.

It is Pakistan that persisted with the effort after initial attempts at backdoor diplomacy by Egypt, Pakistan and Türkiye started floundering. Sharing a 900 km border and deep cultural history with Iran, and having a skirmish of its own on the eastern front with Afghanistan, Pakistan has all the reason to contain and potentially resolve the current conflict in Iran. Although a majority Sunni Muslim country, Pakistan is home to the second largest Shia Muslim population after Iran, and is the easterly terminus of the Shia Arc that stretches from Lebanon. The country also has a mutual defense pact with Saudi Arabia that includes Pakistan’s nuclear cover for the Kingdom. An open conflict between Iran and Saudi Arabia would have put Pakistan in a dangerously awkward position.

It is now known and Trump has acknowledged that China had a hand in helping Iran get to the diplomatic table. Pakistan used its connections well to get Chinese diplomatic reinforcement. Pakistani Foreign Minister Ishaq Dar flew to Beijing to brief his Chinese counterpart and secured China’s public support for the diplomatic efforts. The visit produced a Five-Point Plan that became a sequel to America’s 15-point proposal and the eventual ten-point offer by Iran.

There is no consensus between parties as to which points are where and who is agreeing to what. The chaos is par for the course the way Donald Trumps conducts global affairs. So, all kudos to Pakistan for quietly persisting with old school toing and froing and producing a semblance of an agreement on a tweet without a parchment.

It is also noteworthy that Israel has been excluded from all the diplomatic efforts so far. And it is remarkable, but should not be surprising, the way Trump has sidelined Isreal from the talks. Prime Minister Netanyahu has been enjoying overwhelming support of Israelis for starting the war of his life against Iran and getting the US to spearhead it. But now the country is getting confused and is exposed to Iranian missiles and drones far more than ever before. The Israeli opposition is finally coming alive realizing what little has Netanyahu’s wars have achieved and at what cost. Israel has alienated a majority of Americans and has no ally anywhere else.

It will be a busy Saturday in Islamabad, where the US and Iranian delegations are set to meet. Iran would seem to have insisted and secured the assurance that the US delegation will be led by Vice President Vance, while including Trump’s personal diplomats – Steve Witkoff and son-in-law Jared Kushner. Iran has not announced its team but it is expected to be led, for protocol parity, by Iran’s Speaker Mohammad Bagher Ghalibaf, and will likely include its suave Foreign Minister Abbas Araghchi. Vice President Vance’s attendance will be the most senior US engagement with Iran since Secretary of State John Kerry negotiated the 2015 nuclear deal under President Obama.

The physical arrangements for the talks are still not public although Islamabad has been turned into a security fortress given the stakes and risks involved. The talks are expected to be ‘indirect’, with the two delegations in separate rooms and Pakistani officials shuttling between them. The status of Iran’s enriched uranium and the reopening of the Strait of Hormuz will be the major points of contention. After Netanyahu’s overreach on Wednesday, Lebanon is also on the short list

The 2015 nuclear deal (the Joint Comprehensive Action Plan) took months of negotiations and involved multiple parties besides the US and Iran, including China, France, Germany, UK, Russia and the EU. That served the cause of regional and world peace well until Trump tore up the deal to spite Obama. It would be too much to expect anything similar after a weekend encounter in Islamabad. But if the talks could lead to at least a permanent ceasefire and the return to diplomacy that would be a huge achievement.

(*As of 2025–2026, Donald Trump is nicknamed “TACO Trump” by Wall Street traders and investors as an acronym for “”. This term highlights a perceived pattern of him making strong tariff threats that cause market panic, only to later retreat or weaken them, causing a rebound.)

by Rajan Philips

Features

CIA’s hidden weapon in Iran

Published

5 days ago

2026/04/12

Thilina Walpola

We are passing through the ten-day interregnum called a ceasefire over the War on Iran. The world may breathe briefly, but this pause is not reassurance—it is a deliberate interlude, a vacuum in which every actor positions for the next escalation. Iran is far from secure. Behind the veneer of calm, external powers and local forces are preparing, arming, and coordinating. The United States is unlikely to deploy conventional ground troops; the next moves will be executed through proxies whose behaviour will defy expectation. These insurgents are shaped, guided, and amplified by intelligence and technology, capable of moving silently, striking precisely, and vanishing before retaliation. The ceasefire is not peace—it is the prelude to disruption.

The Kurds, historically instruments of Tehran against Baghdad, are now vectors for the next insurgency inside Iran. This movement is neither organic nor local. It is externally orchestrated, with the CIA as the principal architect. History provides the blueprint: under Mohammad-Reza Shah Pahlavi, Kurdish uprisings were manipulated, never supported out of sympathy. They were instruments of leverage against Iraq, a way to weaken a rival while projecting influence beyond Iran’s borders. Colonel Isa Pejman, Iranian military intelligence officer who played a role in Kurdish affairs, recalled proposing support for a military insurgency in Iraq, only for the Shah to respond coldly: “[Mustafa] Barzani killed my Army soldiers… please forget it. The zeitgeist and regional context have been completely transformed.” The Kurds were pawns, but pawns with strategic weight. Pejman later noted: “When the Shah wrote on the back of the letter ‘Accepted’ to General Pakravan, I felt I was the true leader of the Kurdish movement.” The seeds planted then are now being activated under new, technologically empowered auspices.

Iran’s geographic vulnerabilities make this possible. The Shah understood the trap: a vast territory with porous borders, squeezed by Soviet pressure from the north and radical Arab states from the west. “We are in a really terrible situation since Moscow’s twin pincers coming down through Kabul and Baghdad surround us,” he warned Asadollah Alam. From Soviet support for the Mahabad Republic to Barzani’s dream of a unified Kurdistan, Tehran knew an autonomous Kurdish bloc could destabilize both Iraq and Iran. “Since the formation of the Soviet-backed Mahabad Republic, the Shah had been considerably worried about the Kurdish threat,” a US assessment concluded.

Today, the Kurds’ significance is operational, not symbolic. The CIA’s recent rescue of a downed F-15 airman using Ghost Murmur, a quantum magnetometry system, demonstrated the reach of technology in intelligence operations. The airman survived two days on Iranian soil before extraction. This was not a simple rescue; it was proof that highly mobile, technologically augmented operations can penetrate Iranian territory with surgical precision. The same logic applies to insurgency preparation: when individuals can be tracked through electromagnetic signatures, AI-enhanced surveillance, and drones, proxy forces can be armed, guided, and coordinated with unprecedented efficiency. The Kurds are no longer pawns—they are a living network capable of fracturing Iranian cohesion while providing deniability to foreign powers.

Iran’s engagement with Iraqi Kurds was always containment, not empowerment. The Shah’s goal was never Kurdish independence. “We do not approve an independent [Iraqi] Kurdistan,” he stated explicitly. Yet their utility as instruments of regional strategy was undeniable. The CIA’s revival of these networks continues a long-standing pattern: insurgent groups integrated into the wider calculus of international power. Israel, Iran, and the Kurds formed a triangular strategic relationship that terrified Baghdad. “For Baghdad, an Iranian-Israeli-Kurdish triangular alliance was an existential threat,” contemporary reports noted. This is the template for modern manipulation: a networked insurgency, externally supported, capable of destabilizing regimes from within while giving foreign powers plausible deniability.

Iran today faces fragility. Years of sanctions, repression, and targeted strikes have weakened educational and scientific hubs; Sharif University in Tehran, one of the country’s leading scientific centres, was bombed. Leaders, scholars, and innovators have been eliminated. Military readiness is compromised. Generations-long setbacks leave Iran exposed. Against this backdrop, a Kurdish insurgency armed with drones, AI-supported surveillance, and precision munitions could do more than disrupt—it could fracture the state internally. The current ten-day ceasefire is a mirage; the next wave of revolt is already being orchestrated.

CIA involvement is deliberate. Operations are coordinated with allied intelligence agencies, leveraging Kurdish grievances, mobility, and ethnolinguistic networks. The Kurds’ spread across Iran, Iraq, Turkey, and Syria provides operational depth—allowing insurgents to strike, vanish, and regroup with impunity. Barzani understood leverage decades ago: “We could be useful to the United States… Look at our strategic location on the flank of any possible Soviet advance into the Middle East.” Today, the calculation is inverted: Kurds are no longer instruments against Baghdad; they are potential disruptors inside Tehran itself.

Technology is central. Ghost Murmur’s ability to detect a single heartbeat remotely exemplifies how intelligence can underpin insurgent networks. Drones, satellite communications, AI predictive modeling, and battlefield sensors create an infrastructure that can transform a dispersed Kurdish insurgency into a high-precision operation. Iran can no longer rely on fortifications or loyalty alone; the external environment has been recalibrated by technology.

History provides the roadmap. The Shah’s betrayal of Barzani after the 1975 Algiers Agreement demonstrated that external actors can manipulate both Iranian ambitions and Kurdish loyalties. “The Shah sold out the Kurds,” Yitzhak Rabin told Kissinger. “We could not station our troops there and keep fighting forever,” the Shah explained to Alam. The Kurds are a pivot, not a cause. Networks once acting under Tehran’s influence are now being repurposed against it.

The insurgency exploits societal fissures. Kurdish discontent in Iran, suppressed for decades, provides fertile ground. Historical betrayal fuels modern narratives: “Barzani claimed that ‘Isa Pejman sold us out to the Shah and the Shah sold us out to the US.’” Intelligence agencies weaponize these grievances, pairing them with training, technological augmentation, and covert support.

Geopolitically, the stakes are immense. The Shah’s defensive-offensive doctrine projected Iranian influence outward to neutralize threats. Today, the logic is inverted: the same networks used to contain Iraq are being readied to contain Iran. A technologically augmented Kurdish insurgency, covertly backed, could achieve in months what decades of sanctions, diplomacy, or repression have failed to accomplish.

The operation will be asymmetric, high-tech, and dispersed. UAVs, quantum-enhanced surveillance, encrypted communications, and AI-directed logistics will dominate. Conventional Iranian forces are vulnerable to this type of warfare. As Pejman reflected decades ago, “Our Army was fighting there, rather than the Kurds who were harshly defeated… How could we keep such a place?” Today, the challenge is magnified by intelligence superiority on the insurgents’ side.

This is not a temporary flare-up. The CIA and its allies are constructing a generational network of influence. Experience from Iraq, Syria, and Lebanon proves these networks endure once operationalised. The Shah recognized this: “Iran’s non-state foreign policy under the Shah’s reign left a lasting legacy for the post-Revolution era.” Today, those instruments are being remade as vectors of foreign influence inside Iran.

The future is stark. Iran faces not simply external threats, but a carefully engineered insurgency exploiting historical grievances, technological superiority, and precise intelligence. The Kurds are central. History, technology, and geopolitical calculation converge to create a transformative threat. Tehran’s miscalculations, betrayals, and suppressed grievances now form the lattice for this insurgency. The Kurds are positioned not just as an ethnic minority, but as a vector of international strategy—Tehran may be powerless to stop it.

Iran’s containment strategies have been weaponized, fused with technology, and inverted against it. The ghosts of Barzani’s Peshmerga, the shadows of Algiers, and the Shah’s strategic vision now converge with Ghost Murmur, drones, and AI. Tehran faces a paradox: the instruments it once controlled are now calibrated to undermine its authority. The next Kurdish revolt will not only fight in the mountains but in the electromagnetic shadows where intelligence operates, consequences are lethal, and visibility is scarce.

by Nilantha Ilangamuwa